Jackal

by Jackal in the Mirror (retail) (epub)

  Terrified, Karla retreated to the opposite side of the room. She bumped into the door between the bookshelves, found a small knob, and grasped it.

  Behind the door Andrew whispered, “Karla, I’m here behind this door.”

  Karla gasped.

  Daryl froze, listening intently. “Did you hear that?” His eyes scanned the room.

  Karla shook her head. “What?”

  “That voice. Whispering.”

  “No,” she lied. “I didn’t hear a thing.”

  For a brief moment the room fell into complete silence.

  Karla tightened her grip on the doorknob and waited for Daryl’s next move.

  He turned and glowered at her. “It must’ve been Daryl telling you to get away. Don’t listen to him. Bye, bye, Daryl. Be a good boy and go. I’ll take care of her.” He released the chair and straightened up. “He won’t bother us anymore. He’s always trying to take love away from me. But he’s gone. No more Daryl. Come to me.”

  He moved toward her.

  She turned the knob and pulled the door slightly open. “Where did Daryl go?” she asked, attempting to seem calm.

  “I told him to go outside. Forget him.”

  “I need to understand, so I can help you keep him there. Outside of what?”

  “Outside of me,” he roared. “Where he hides.” He leaped across the room toward her.

  She kicked a side chair in his way to slow him down, opened the cellar door, and disappeared, slamming it shut behind her.

  22

  The Jackal in the Mirror

  Andrew had descended a couple of steps and was leaning on the handrail in preparation for Karla’s escape. Sarah had stepped to one side as well. The moment Karla burst into the cellar, Andrew reached for her, and Sarah bolted the door.

  “What—”

  “Hush,” Andrew whispered. “Come down here with me.”

  “Andrew? Is it really you?” she mumbled.

  “It is.”

  Daryl slammed a chair against the door. Sarah wavered with the force of the hit, but held on.

  “Let’s go, Sarah,” Andrew said.

  Sarah turned on her phone, and aimed the flashlight down the steps.

  “I don’t like your games, Karla.” Daryl yelled from the other room. “Karla? Can you hear me? There’s no way out, only this door. That’s it and it’s dark down there.” He stopped yelling.

  The sudden silence halted their descent.

  Sarah handed her phone to Karla and whispered, “I’ll go see what’s happening. Help Andrew down. He’s seriously injured.”

  Karla nodded and continued down the steps.

  Sarah returned to the door and peered through the crack between the wooden planks. What she saw unnerved her even more.

  Daryl’s entire demeanor shifted back and forth between meekness and rage as he carried on an incoherent conversation with himself. “What did you say?” he whispered and turned toward an empty space before him. “Don’t cry to me about being alone, you pathetic coward,” he growled, “Go back and hide where you’re safe. You’re a wretched weakling!”

  He paced back and forth across the living room, shaking his head and muttering incomprehensibly to himself. Abruptly, his face turned expressionless for a second or two as he assumed an entirely different appearance. “The women? No, you’re wrong. I didn’t kill them,” the meek personality responded.

  The dominant self sneered back, “You certainly didn’t. I did. You lack the strength, you lack the guts.”

  Sarah listened as he engaged in a dialogue between his two personalities.

  “But you are me.”

  “I most certainly am not.”

  “Why did you kill them?”

  “They were suffering. They needed peace. I gave that to them.”

  “You gave them nothing but death.”

  “Enough of this! Be a good boy and die!”

  Daryl jerked back as if hit by an invisible blow. Then, he threw a punch, wavering with the effort. As the violent exchange escalated with increasing ferocity, Daryl kicked over several of the votive candles, lighting the rug on fire.

  He ignored it.

  Turning back to the door where Karla had disappeared, he stared at it, and drew close. He leaned his head against it and listened. Then he said, “Karla, my dear, I’m coming for you.” He banged on the door.

  Sarah stepped back, turned, and made her way down the steps guided by the light Karla held up to illuminate them.

  “What’s he doing?” Andrew asked.

  “He’s arguing with himself. He said he’s coming,” Sarah answered in a trembling voice.

  Daryl banged on the door, but it didn’t budge. Infuriated, he stepped back. “You’ve made your choice.” He stormed out, leaving the unattended flames to spread.

  “C’mon, you two, we need to get out of here before he comes,” Sarah said, urging them toward the cellar steps that led to the outdoors.

  “Who are you?” asked Karla.

  “I’m Sarah, a friend of their mother. Long story. Help me with Andrew.”

  They each grabbed one of his arms and supported him.

  “I can walk on my own,” Andrew protested weakly.

  “Just the same,” Sarah insisted.

  As they reached the steps to the outdoor exit, the door above them slammed open.

  “Quickly,” Andrew cried, “go to the wall cabinet, grab a hammer, or any tool. And turn off the phone.” He pointed behind them.

  Sarah turned off the phone, and the two sprinted to the cabinet. As the cellar darkened, Andrew disappeared behind one of the wine shelves.

  “Karla!” Daryl called out as he stepped down into the cellar, leaving the door open to the night sky. An electric lantern in hand, he made his way down the steps. He reached the cellar floor and hung the lamp on a hook screwed to a post next to him.

  Thanks to the glow from the lantern, Karla and Sarah were able to discern the tools. Karla grabbed a hammer and Sarah reached for a crowbar. They stepped away from the light, concealing themselves behind one of the shelves.

  “Where’s Andrew?” Karla whispered. Sarah shrugged.

  “We love things for their beauty,” Daryl called out. “We destroy them when they’re suffering, so they can find peace. That’s the nature of true love.” He spotted the ropes that had kept Andrew captive. “Where’s my brother? I had him tied up here.” He glanced feverishly around the cellar. “What have you done with him?”

  The women tiptoed down an aisle perpendicular to their assailant.

  “Where did you hide him?” Daryl screamed into the gloom.

  Karla peeked between the dusty bottles of wine and spotted her aggressor as he crept along several feet away. Without losing sight of him, she moved quietly in the opposite direction until her foot kicked an empty bottle that lay on the floor.

  Daryl spun around and spotted her. “Karla, my darling girl, there you are.” He charged around the shelf and faced her. He froze when he glimpsed Sarah standing behind her. “Who are you?” He stared at her and cocked his head. “I don’t know you.”

  Sarah stepped up beside Karla. “Daryl, your mother sent me.”

  He shook his head. “Liar! Mother is dead!”

  “That’s true,” Sarah, answered calmly. “She sent me, nonetheless.”

  Unsure what to make of this new person, he examined Sarah top to bottom. “Why?”

  “To stop you from hurting Karla.”

  He laughed. “Liar. She never met Karla. I’m sure of that.”

  “But she knows you, and she knows what you’ve done.”

  He advanced toward her as a sardonic scowl came over him. “No, she doesn’t.”

  “She confronted you. Remember?”

  Daryl tilted his head to one side, staring at
Sarah as if she were some strange creature that required careful examination. “How did you find out?” he asked calmly.

  “She told me.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “No, no, no. She died. She didn’t talk to anyone.”

  Sarah stood her ground. “She talked to me. She told me how you showed up at this cabin, how she confronted you, how she reached out for you, and how you—”

  Stop! Don’t say more! Please don’t tell Andrew what Daryl did! Martha’s voice exploded inside Sarah’s head.

  Daryl stared at her. “And how I what?”

  “You’re perfectly well aware of what.” The disdain in her voice flooded the room.

  Daryl turned, marched to the woodpile, and grabbed an ax. Turning back, he advanced toward Sarah. “I don’t give a shit! Whoever you are, you’ll never live to tell another soul.”

  Andrew stepped unsteadily out from between two wine racks and shouted, “Stop!”

  Daryl spun to face his brother, eyes full of rage. “I wondered where you’d gone. Using women to fight your battles again. Just like you used Mother against me. You sniveling little—”

  “Listen to me. Whatever this other you inside does, you are still Daryl, and you’re responsible for it. Only you can stop him.”

  “Why don’t you die and let me be?” he bellowed, and then lunged at this brother, the ax clenched over his head. At the same moment, Karla stepped forward and threw the hammer as hard as she could. It hit Daryl in the back, stopping his advance. Before he could recover, Andrew leaped upon him and grasped the ax with both hands.

  The two identical men struggled frantically for control of the weapon like reflections in a mirror, their birthmarks each turning purple with the pressure of their grip.

  The flames from the fire above had burned the door and now licked the wooden walls down the stairs, reaching for the empty wooden crates on the floor.

  Karla retrieved the hammer from the floor and lunged toward the men. Sarah held her back. “Give them a second.”

  “But Andrew’s hurt.”

  “Yes, but he needs to—”

  “Okay, but I’m getting close just in case,” Karla said.

  They both moved in. Through the struggle they heard Andrew’s voice. “Daryl, if he kills me, he’ll kill you, too. You’ll be alone again. Please help me stop him.”

  Daryl stopped struggling and looked at his brother as if for the first time. Letting out a deafening scream, he pulled backward as if some unseen force had wrenched him off his brother. He struggled and groaned in a fight with his invisible foe. He buckled over as if hit in the stomach, the ax clenched in his hand. Then he flung himself against a post, slumped to the floor, his eyes shut, motionless. He appeared to be unconscious.

  Andrew crawled to him. After a few seconds, Daryl opened his eyes to find his twin kneeling next to him. He moaned, “You shouldn’t have left. You shut the door. You stayed outside and left me alone with Aunt Jenny. You sang with the animals. You were so happy outside. Free and happy.”

  “No. I wasn’t happy, Daryl. I was cold and scared. I wanted more than anything in the world to be inside with you, warm and safe, but you wouldn’t open the door.” Tears trickled from his eyes.

  “The bolt. It was too high. I couldn’t reach the bolt,” Daryl muttered, his face wracked with pain.

  The brothers embraced.

  “I should’ve tried harder,” Daryl said. “But you scared me, yelling and threatening me from outside.”

  “I get it, it wasn’t your fault.”

  Daryl’s head dropped, tears streaming down his face. “Andrew, I didn’t understand…all those things you said I did to you…he did them, not me. I didn’t. I really didn’t do them.”

  “Yes, Daryl, he did them. We understood.”

  “We?”

  “Mother and I. We both understood. But she didn’t have the courage to do anything about it. She hoped you’d be able to cope, clear your head, and stop pretending to be me.”

  “But he is you!”

  “No, he’s not me. He only lives inside of you, and you’re the only one that can get rid of him. You’ve got to stop him. I’ll do anything to help you. Please, Daryl, try.”

  “I can’t control him. He takes over and I lose track of what happens to me. He told me about Aunt Jenny. How she was lying there in pain, crying, how she couldn’t move, and then she fell asleep and wouldn’t wake up. But she didn’t hurt any more. She was quiet, peaceful. I loved Aunt Jenny and she loved me. He told me to cuddle with her, so I did. She liked it. I liked it.”

  “I understand.”

  “Mother didn’t understand. She didn’t understand that all those women hated their lives and suffered. But after he helped them, they were quiet, peaceful. He cuddled with them like I did with Aunt Jenny. Mother didn’t understand. She kept asking why.”

  The ceiling of the cellar, engulfed in flames, snapped loudly. Several pieces of burning wood fell to the cellar floor.

  Karla crawled over to the brothers, hammer clenched in her hand. “We need to leave. Now!”

  Daryl swung his head to one side as if answering a call. “I can’t hold him any longer. He’s angry.” In a flash he hit Andrew with the ax handle, knocking him unconscious.

  Karla screamed and smashed the hammer into Daryl’s shoulder, causing him to drop the ax.

  “If you come close to him,” Karla shouted, “I’ll kill you.”

  “No you won’t,” Daryl answered.

  “Try me,” she retorted in anger.

  Sarah leapt forward and snatched up the ax.

  More burning embers dropped from the floor above as the intensity of the fire increased. Smoke filled the cellar, curling along the wine racks like an angry storm cloud.

  Daryl howled and rolled furiously about, gripping invisible hands around his neck and fighting with himself.

  “Sarah, help me with Andrew!” Karla screamed.

  They grabbed Andrew’s unconscious body, dragging him to the steps that led outside.

  A loud crack preceded several burning planks that fell at once onto a shelf filled with wine bottles. It toppled, smashing the bottles and igniting the alcohol.

  Daryl screamed. Then he laughed.

  “Oh, God. Now what?” Karla stopped.

  “Don’t stop! Keep pulling!” Sarah yelled.

  The two women began a desperate climb up the steps, dragging Andrew’s limp body.

  “C’mon, Andrew, wake up,” Karla begged.

  “Let us have some order here.” Daryl rose to his feet and called out. “We can’t have us both doing this all the time. One of us has to go.”

  From the top of the steps they caught sight of Daryl. A calm sneer crept onto his lips as he headed toward them.

  The women redoubled their effort and sped up their ascent. They reached the top, and dragged Andrew out of the cellar. They managed to get him a few feet from the cellar before slumping to the ground, exhausted, struggling to catch their breath.

  The contact with the cold night air reanimated Andrew. The three lay sprawled on the dirt, staring expectantly at the exit from the cellar. The only sound was the crackling of fire and the explosion of bottles. Smoke billowed from the cellar door.

  Daryl emerged from the smoke. Soot mixed with tears streaked his face with hideous black lines. His hands were black with burns. He glared at them with eyes full of hatred as he took step after deliberate step in their direction. He froze unexpectedly and began walking backwards jerkily as his invisible alter ego wrenched him back into the cellar.

  Andrew crawled to the door of the cellar.

  “Stay out Andrew! Don’t come in!” Daryl screamed from below.

  But Andrew didn’t heed his twin’s plea and slid down the steps.

  “Andrew!” Karla screamed and ran to the top of the ste
ps.

  “I’m right behind you.” Sarah called out.

  Surrounded by smoke, backlit by flame, Daryl rose to his feet and approached Andrew.

  “Daryl, please don’t hurt him.” Karla pleaded.

  Daryl knelt beside him. “Please, forgive me.”

  Andrew held firmly on to his brother’s arm and sat up. The two brothers embraced.

  Daryl rose, swung his brother over his shoulder, and headed toward the steps.

  “Get away!” he yelled at Karla and Sarah. “Let me take him out. I need to save him.”

  The women retreated hesitantly, and stood by as Daryl carried his brother up from the cellar. With unexpected gentleness, he lowered him to the ground. “Take care, brother,” he whispered.

  Andrew reached up to grab Daryl, but he yanked himself away. He stood for a moment staring down at his twin with all the love he had failed to show before. A moment later he spun about and threw himself down into the burning cellar.

  “Daryl—no!” Andrew reached for his brother, but he was gone.

  Karla seized Andrew and held him back. Sarah also took hold of him, and together they gradually drew him away from the inferno.

  Once they’d reached a safe distance from the burning cabin, Andrew stopped resisting the two women. The three stood silently, staring back at the blazing structure.

  “Strange isn’t it?” Andrew said at long last. “It ended the way it all started. He’s locked inside, and I’m locked outside.”

  Karla looked into Andrew’s eyes. “Only this time the choice was his.”

  Sarah heard distant sirens.

  A moment later, the floor succumbed to the flames and collapsed into the cellar, sending clouds of smoke and embers out into the night air.

  Clutching Karla, Andrew watched the cabin disappear in a conflagration that lit up the surrounding forest and the edge of the lake, where a weathered dock anchored an old rowboat.

  Sarah watched as Andrew’s face gradually relaxed, clear evidence that a heavy burden had been lifted from him, and peace had taken its place.