* * * * *
Abby watched the Camry crash into the guard rail, her stomach heaving into her chest. She’s been on 495 heading home, head held high as she ignored the cars, their drivers’ stares eating into her flesh. A few men had stopped and asked if she needed a lift, but the look on their faces had made her keep walking, eyes straight ahead, fists clenched at her sides
She hadn’t said much, hadn’t needed to really. Just one strong no and they stepped on the gas, their lips pinched tightly as they sped down the highway, sensing the danger they’d narrowly missed.
But then there came Brian, speeding by. She’d felt him before she saw anything. A familiar presence, then she’d turned her head. “Brian!” she’d screamed, waving her arms, flapping them as if she were trying to fly. She’d watched as he spun toward the shoulder, the cars behind squealing, drivers pounding their breaks. There was a terrible sound, a metallic squeal. Then the Camry’s hood folded like an accordion, and the car finally came to a stop.
Now Abby was running toward the Camry. Oh god, she thought. The wreck had started to smoke, and the sharp stench of gas filled the air, burrowing into her lungs.
“Brian,” she moaned when she was finally there, her sneakers skidding over the blacktop as she slammed into the driver’s side door. “Come on, open!” she pleaded, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Brian!” she screamed, giving the door another yank. She could see him in there, through the glass, his head resting against the billowing air bag. But he didn’t look up; he didn’t respond. “Please,” cried Abby, “somebody help me!” But no one was stopping. The traffic flew by. There were no good Samaritans out today.
Abby raced over to the other side of the car. The front passenger side was completely unscathed, and she was able to open the door and slide in.
“Brian!” she screamed. He still didn’t move. His head was cradled in the airbag, his face completely covered in its cloth.
“Brian,” she whispered, touching the back of his head, pushing it slightly, so she could see his face. “Brian, wake up!” He didn’t respond.
Oh God, she thought. What are you doing? You can’t touch him now, he could have broken his neck.
“Brian please,” She searched for his hand. It was hard to find under all the fabric. “Come on Brian, please wake up!”
Suddenly, she heard him moan. It was creaky and small, but she heard it all the same. “Brian?” she whispered, stroking his hair. “Brian, you have to wake up now.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she didn’t even realize she was crying. The whole world felt like it was underwater, like this was a dream. It had to be.
“Brian,” she begged. He opened his eyes.
“Abby,” he whispered, his voice rusty and thin. “Abby, is that you?”
“Brian,” she cried, and she squeezed his hand. She wanted to hold him, pull him over to her, but she was afraid to try and move him right now.
“You’re going to be okay,” she whispered. “Everything’s going to be all right. Let’s just wait for the paramedics, okay? Somebody’s coming. Somebody will help.” She reached into the back seat to search for her purse, knowing her cell phone was in it somewhere. But then she remembered Matilda had made her leave it at home.
“Abby, why did you do this to me?” said Brian. His voice was so soft it was hard to hear. “Abby, why do you want me to die?”
“I don’t,” Abby said. The smell of gas was growing stronger. Change of plans, she thought. You have to get him out now.
“Brian, we have to get out of the car. We can’t talk now. We have to go.”
“You killed me,” he whispered. “You made me close my eyes and drive. I tried to stop you, but you were too strong. Why did you do it? Why did you want me dead? My dad warned me about you, but I didn’t want to believe it. He told me never to open the box. He said that you’re one of the monsters. You’re with the snakes. I didn’t think it was true!”
“Brian, what are you talking about? I never tried to hurt you.” But Abby wasn’t sure he heard. He was staring off in the distance now, like he’d forgotten she was there. “Listen,” she said, touching his face. Finally, his eyes swung back to her. “Brian, come on. We have to go. The car’s leaking gas. We have to get out.”
“No,” Brian whispered. “I want to sleep.”
“I’m getting you out.”
“Don’t touch me!” he screamed, his dark eyes burning into her skin. “You aren’t allowed to touch me ever again.”
“Too bad,” said Abby, leaning over him and pressing the release button on his seatbelt. Then she roped her arms around his chest. She hoped she wasn’t hurting him even more as she she eased him toward the open passenger door.
“Come on,” she whispered. “We’re almost there.” But he didn’t look up. He didn’t even move.
“Brian?” she whispered. His lips were blue. “Oh god,” screamed Abby. He wasn’t breathing anymore. “Brian please. Someone help me now!”
And then something sharp cut through her mind, a biting voice she knew so well.
“Get the box, Abby. Get it now.”
“Eleanor,” said Abby. “Help me, please. What do I do?”
“Leave the boy, and get the box. You can save him later. I’ll show how.”
“But he’s not breathing.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“What do you mean? Of course it does!”
Something was burning into Abby’s right heel. At first she thought her foot was on fire, but when she checked she saw that it was Eleanor’s feather. Somehow it had slipped out of her pocket and ended up on the floor. Quickly, Abby stuck her sleeve over her hand, picked up the feather, and shoved it into her coat.
“The box,” cried Eleanor, her voice growing louder. “Abby, you need to get it now!”
“No,” screamed Abby, slipping her arms back around Brian. He was heavier than she thought he’d be, but she managed to drag him out of the car and onto the side of the highway, his feet bouncing over the blacktop as they moved. All the while she ignored Eleanor’s pleas, focusing only on what she had to do.
When she was far enough away, she lowered him to the ground and slid her mouth over his, tilting his head back like they were taught in health class. She only hoped she remembered what the teacher had said. Oh please, she prayed. Please let this work. She breathed hot air into his chest, felt it rise, then did it again.
“Get the box,” screamed Eleanor. “They’re almost here.”
Shut up, thought Abby. I can’t do that right now! Chest compressions, she thought. That’s what I’m supposed to do. Abby yanked up Brian’s shirt, momentarily remembering how she’d imagined things would be. Stop it, she thought, as the tears started to come. Keep it together. She locked her arms. “One, two.” She started to count, pressing down on his chest, while ignoring Eleanor’s howls in her mind.
“The box!” shrieked Eleanor. “Get the box!”
“Be quiet!”
“You can’t save him this way!” Eleanor’s voice was like broken glass
“Shut up!” screamed Abby. Her arms felt like lead. She had no idea how long she’d been pumping, but her throat was raw and her chest was starting to hurt. Just a little longer, she thought. Someone will come. Just a little longer. Then you can go.
“Get the box!” screamed Eleanor. “There’s another way!” And then Abby heard the ambulance.
“It’s your last chance,” cried Eleanor, pleading with her now. “Forget what you’re doing. It’s not going to work. Just get the box. It’ll save his life.”
Abby stopped in the middle of a chest compression, her throat scraped raw, blood pounding in her ears.
“How?” she whimpered, pumping again. But it wasn’t working. Nothing was.
“Get it from the car, and I’ll show you the way. Get it, and I’ll take you to save him now.”
Abby stopped and listened, her ear on Brian’s chest. His skin was still warm against her
cheek, but there was nothing there: no breathing, no heartbeat. “Oh god,” she whispered. “He’s not coming back.”
“Go!” Eleanor’s voice burned through her mind, holding its promise. She had to obey.
“I can’t leave him,” said Abby.
“Here’s already gone. I can feel it already. His spirit has left. Get the box and I’ll help you find him again. Get the box, and you can bring him back.”
Abby arm’s fell to her sides, and she forced herself up off the ground. Don’t do this, she thought. But it was no use. This was the only way.
“Get it,” said Eleanor. “Do it now.” Abby took one last look at Brian’s face, his eyes closed as if in sleep, then made herself jog back over to the Camry.
“The back seat!” Eleanor’s voice sounded frantic. “Hurry, he put it in his pack.” Abby leaped into the car, and started scanning the seats, searching for Brian’s bag. It reeked inside. She could barely breath, and the smell of gasoline seared her lungs. But she saw the red pack on the floor behind the driver’s seat. She grabbed it and raced out of the car.
She was about to sprint over to Brian, when she saw the paramedics pull to the side of the road.
“Run,” screamed Eleanor, her voice sharp as a crow’s. “Don’t let them catch you. They’ll slow you down!”
“But Brian!” cried Abby. “I can’t leave him like this.”
“Yes, you can. It’s the only way. Now go. Run, before they see. You’ve got to go before it’s too late.
Abby stood, immobilized, her eyes locked on Brian.
“It’s the only way,” said Eleanor, pleading again. “It isn’t too late. You can still get him back. Just go to the water, your usual place. I’ll find you there. I’ll show you what to do.”
“But I have to see,” whispered Abby, moving closer now. Maybe they’ll bring him back, she thought. Maybe he’ll be okay.
“They won’t!” insisted Eleanor. “You have to go now.” And then the sound of a thousand gun shots exploded through the air, and Abby found herself skidding over the ground, arms extended as she hit the earth, smashing into gravel and dirt.
When she looked up, the Camry was a ball of fire, burning away at the side of the road.
“Oh god,” moaned Abby, “Why is this happening to me? Please, oh please let him be okay.”
“It’s up to you,” said Eleanor. “All of it is. Get to the water, and I’ll show you the way. We can save your beloved before it’s too late.”
Abby pushed herself onto her feet. Her body felt drained, and she swayed as she stood, but she made herself stumble away from the car, and half run, half crawl toward the woods. As she moved, she pictured Brian’s face in her mind. Not like he’d been on the side of the road, but with smiling lips, eyes wide and bright. Please, she prayed as she broke into the trees. Please make sure that no one saw me. Please let me help him before it’s too late.
Black Waters (Book 1 in the Songstress Trilogy) Page 21