by Dia Reeves
“I said maybe. I’m beginning to think they’re more trouble then they’re worth.”
Chapter 18
Rue herded the Westwood children to the square, the downtown area of Portero. St. Teresa Cathedral was its highest point, the gray spire easily visible from anywhere in the square. The giant tearing apart the insurance building in the distance, however, was bucking for second place.
Such a pretty day, despite cobblestone streets gummy with blood and the length of intestine hanging from a wrought iron balconet over one of the shops. The smell of fresh bread from the Miss Bitsy factory mingled as ever with the smell of blood, an uneasy perfume. But the sun was finally out. Karissa had removed her bunny ears because it was too warm for them, though Stanton insisted she remain buttoned up in her velveteen coat.
The sheriff’s deputies had put down cones to block off Claudine Street, but people ignored them, especially shop owners still open for business. The streets were as full as ever, maybe fuller because of the spectacle. A couple of people wore gas masks like it was the end of the world, but the atmosphere was more carnivalesque than apocalyptic.
It took a lot more than one monster to shut down Portero. Even a giant one.
Sterling stepped over a strip of inconveniently-placed police tape and weaved among the bodies lying in the street.
One of the deputies yelled. “Kid! Get away from that body!”
Sterling ignored him and said to Rue, “Want it?” The corpse he’d found had had its chest ripped open, and the heart was exposed.
“What would I do with it?”
“Needs to be fresh, huh? What a waste.” He looked around. “Maybe some of them are still clinging to life.”
“Sterling that’s weird. Now come back here where I can keep an eye on you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He crossed back over the police tape as another body went sailing overhead to land with a splat near the other bodies sprawled in the street.
Rue positioned the Westwood children so that she was between them and the street of death. And the monster who was reenacting that scene from Alice in Wonderland and was now wearing a three-story building as a dress.
“Maybe we should try an alternate route,” Rue suggested.
“Why?” asked the twins.
“We could die.”
“Isn’t that always true?”
“I wanna see the monster.” Karissa pulled on Rue’s hand.
“You are seeing it,” Stanton said. “Just stay close to us.”
“Close to me. I’m the lethiferist.”
Rue knew she was being mean, but she got like that when she was hungry. So hungry, and getting hungrier every day, but she couldn’t risk going into the dark park yet. She hadn’t heard from Nettle, and if her family caught her, they might think she was “interfering” and send more Mortmaine after her. Real Mortmaine. Like the ones swarming toward the giant, a wave of green poison.
Karissa and several other lookers-on began to cheer as the Mortmaine went to work, climbing the giant and the building it wore, hacking away at boulder-sized muscle and redwood bones. Rue knew she was lucky they hadn’t come for her instead of initiates.
“Are you okay?” Stanton asked.
“Better than him.”
“That’s a him?” Sterling shielded his eyes from the sun, better to see the giant. “If we hurry and get that X-ray vision figured out, we could tell its sex too.” He took Rue’s elbow, trying to lead, so she pulled away and marched ahead.
“X-Ray vision?” she asked.
Sterling grabbed her again, pulled her off course to a street vendor. “Dad thinks he can get glowfish to work, but seems to me you’d have fewer side effects with actual radiation, up to and including explosions. But backstabber corneas are perfect; no side effects.” Sterling bought a box of petit fours from the vendor and gave it to Rue.
“Now feed them to us.”
“Why?”
“Because you like to take care of us. Isn’t that what you’ve been screaming all afternoon?”
“I don’t scream.”
A box of nine miniature square cakes. Lemon and lavender and peach colored. Topped with glazed flowers that didn’t look edible. Until she held one near Stanton’s mouth and he devoured the whole thing in one bite.
“Why do you need X-Ray vision?”
“Backstabbers are specialists,” Stanton said. “They only eat human kidneys, and so they use X-ray vision to make sure they’re getting the best quality. No scrawny or diseased ones.”
“That’s why backstabbers need it. Why do you need it?”
“For the spectacular. At the one last year, Dad demonstrated that it was possible to witness the last thing a person saw before he or she died. And after the spectacular, in his lab, he proved that it was possible to alter whatever had been seen before death. If the person was murdered, you could replace the murderer with a different murderer, or erase the murder altogether and make it look like an accident.”
Karissa said, “And the year before that, Daddy rearranged DNA to make something into something else. He made a bird into a lizard! But then he killed the lizard. I don’t know why he did that. Me next!”
Rue fed her a little cake.
Stanton said, “That was afterward, in the lab. He tried to turn the lizard into a dog. It didn’t work the first time, but he’s figured out how to do it. Sort of.”
“Those dogs in the kennels used to be lizards?” said Rue.
“Yes. Changing mammalian DNA into reptilian DNA doesn’t produce a seamless result.”
“Mammalian to mammalian works really well,” said Sterling. “As long as it’s not human. Dad’s tried to do certain things with humans—turn them into ants or X-Men type superhero mutants—but they all failed. Those were all lab experiments, not anything he did during a spectacular. The spectacular is a test; the real experiments he does in his lab.”
“This year we’re trying to see inside the body, see the soul. There are ways already, but nothing consistent or reliable. We’re trying to mechanize the process.”
“So at this year’s spectacular, you want to see someone’s soul, determine what quality it has, like whether it’s NDE, and then you want to use the bone machine to rip it to pieces? That doesn’t make sense.”
“Not rip it to pieces: separate it into disparate elements to see what it’s made of.”
Rue fed the others, but when it was Sterling’s turn again, he bit into her finger as well as the cake.
She nearly dropped the box, unable to believe he’d done something so blatant in front of everyone, in front of his sister, but no one seemed to have noticed, least of all Sterling. She had begun to think it was an accident, but when she fed Sterling the final petit four, he bit her harder, and held her finger in his mouth as they walked along before releasing her.
A release that left her ensnared. Entangled. He smiled at her, like he knew.
Did he know?
The giant’s head hit the street and rolled to a stop just ahead of them. Such sad eyes.
“Say,” said Karissa, pointing. “If they chop the giant into real little bits, could you eat it?”
“Why do you keep trying to get me to eat disgusting things?”
“You’re getting sick. Peppermint gets sick if he doesn’t eat right.”
“Am I a snake?”
“When was the last time you ate?” Stanton asked.
Sterling felt her forehead. “Are you sick?”
“It’s not your job to look after me. You think I need you to do my job? If you could do my job, I wouldn’t be here. I don’t need people worrying about me, so stop it.”
“You need something. You’ve been bitchy all morning.” He mouthed the word at her, one eye on Karissa. “For no reason. I mean, look around. It’s the first pretty day in forever.”
They were surrounded by the rubble of collapsed buildings. Corpses. Dust, pools of blood. A giant severed head. But she knew what he meant, had been thinking it herself earl
ier.
“Sterling’s right. Put on a happy face. Fake it if you have to. I don’t want Adele to see us fighting.”
They watched her, waiting for the kind of happy face they could believe in. When she finally produced one, they led her around the corner.
One of the buildings down the street had a blank door with a hand-lettered sign bearing the single word APOTHECARY. They pushed inside and followed the stairs down into what would have been darkness except for a dull yellow gleam. Fuzzy lichen and mushrooms flourished in the dampness, the only source of light until Stanton opened another door at the bottom of the stairs.
The light in the shop was electric, highlighting the dense jungle of herbs and jars of chicken feet and other grotesqueries. The air was heavy and cold enough that Rue was glad of her coat. There was no low roar of air conditioning, either; only the mausoleum chill of damp walls.
“Adele!” Karissa raced to the woman who’d stepped from behind the counter, and leaped into her arms.
“How’s my Kissy Face?” Adele said. Everything about her was tidy and crisp—her side bun, her pressed blue smock. The glow of the mushrooms growing in the cracks of the floor stained her white shoes yellow.
The twins guardedly allowed Adele to kiss their cheeks, like she was a relative they hadn’t seen in years, whose touch they’d forgotten and were no longer sure they wanted.
“Sterling, your face looks like it healed nicely. And fast!”
“Yeah. I used her tooth, instead of a bone,” he said, pointing at Rue.
“After Mr. Westwood knocked it out of her face? Good substitute.” Adele gave Rue a professional smile. “I have a salve if you need it, for the pain. On the house.”
“I’m stronger than I look,” Rue said, flattered that Adele seemed to know who she was.
“I can believe it.” Adele kissed Karissa’s cheek. “Another hardy pioneer woman like my Kissy Face. Did you ask about our camping trip?”
“They said no.” Rue took a moment to admire that singular mix of tragic pitiful cuteness. A hard look to pull off, but Karissa nailed it.
“Why?”
“Because we said so.”
Adele looked like she wanted to argue with Stanton, but the twins’ faces discouraged further discussion. She shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to find something else to do for your birthday.”
“Can we do love spells?”
“Love spells?” said the twins.
“Adele’s got this book in the back, and it’s full of all kinds of spells.”
“You don’t want to be casting spells on people,” Sterling said. “First of all, there’s no such thing as magic. And second of all love spells? Love is awful. Why would you afflict someone with that?”
“Love isn’t an affliction.” Adele gave the twins the strangest look. “Y’all don’t know the first thing about love.”
“What is it then?” the twins asked, curious.
“Yeah,” Karissa said, “How do you get somebody to love you if they hate you? Can you turn hate into love like lead into gold?”
“What about when you’re disowned and nearly killed?” Rue asked. “Because your love is too weak. Can you turn weak love into something stronger?”
The flurry of questions drove Adele to retreat behind her counter. “Humans understand love organically. It’s something to be experienced, not intellectualized.”
“What if you’re not human?”
Rue’s question seemed to stump, even frighten her. “I don’t know about…nonhumans.” She took refuge behind professionalism, behind a mask. Proffered a jar of eyeballs to the twins. “Did y’all still want these?”
“Is that all you have?” Stanton said, disappointed by this new turn of conversation but willing to let it go.
“There’s more in the store room.”
“We’ll wait.”
“Can I help, Adele?”
“You bet, Kissy Face.”
As they disappeared into the back, Rue weaved through a mix of tall orderly shelves and low battered tables with brightly colored pills on display. Powders in dark jars with the ingredients handwritten on neat labels. A bunch of charms were on sale: necklaces for luck, candles to repel danger, patchwork quilts stitched with blessings.
Rue bypassed it all and sat on a wide bench, careful not to upset the jars lining its edge. Sterling joined her.
“Karissa would be safe here. Safe with that woman. You ever thought about leaving her here?”
“We asked Adele to take Kissy when Mother died. Adele knows what it’s like for Kissy back at the house, but she refused. Adele’s great and we like her a lot, but she’s one of those types who wants to have all the fun with none of the work.”
“Like the Little Red Hen; no one helped her bake the bread, but everyone wanted a slice.”
“Exactly! You at least will crack a few eggs for us. Or teeth. Thanks for saving my life.”
Rue almost said it was her job, but they didn’t treat her like staff, so she decided not to treat herself that way.
She touched Sterling’s back. “Do you still feel like I’m gnawing your pancreas?”
“Not exactly.” He pinched her on the finger he’d bitten.
“Is that why you keep biting me? In revenge?”
“What is your brain even like?” he said, amused like he didn’t know what she was talking about. “That reminds me. I still need to open you up and look in your chest. Learn your dimensions.”
Rue didn’t know what face to wear to counteract something that bold, so she wore her own face. Something she usually shared only with people right before she ripped out their hearts.
“Stanton says you should hurry up and kiss me.”
“Stanton can go to hell, and while he’s there, he can wait his turn. I like having you all to myself.”
“That’s petty.”
“Very. But I’m okay with that.”
She rescued her finger from him and picked up one of the jars on the bench. Was stunned to see a heart inside floating in a broth of some kind.
“You want that?” Sterling asked. “Hey, Adele, is this human?”
“What kind of shop do you think I’m running here?”
“I told you it needs to be fresh.” It was so beautiful though. Big and meaty.
“Have you ever tried the other kind? Maybe the jarred kind lasts longer. Like pickles or peanut butter.”
The one in her chest skipped a beat, excited or malfunctioning. Probably both.
“Is that possible?”
“Isn’t everything? When I make you a heart, will you share it?”
“What do you know about sharing? You won’t even share your sister with people she cares about. You’re more interested in punishing Adele for not caring enough, than rewarding your sister for surviving as long as she has. Don’t ask me to do what you can’t.”
She’d barely finished speaking when:
“Kissy. We changed our minds. You can go camping.”
Karissa, who’d been in the middle of pouring a stream of eyeballs into a glass jar, spilled a few to the floor in her excitement, where they rolled stickily to a stop at Stanton’s feet. He ignored them, too busy scowling at his brother.
“I know,” Sterling said. “But Rue and I think it’s for the best. Majority rules, man.”
Stanton’s gaze softened in surprise. “If they say it’s okay, then fine.”
Karissa threw herself at Adele. “I can go!”
“I heard!”
“So when I make your heart,” Sterling asked, ignoring the squealing and camp planning happening across the shop, “will you share it?”
“Yes.”
“A yes? For me? Finally?”
He was so happy, Rue felt bad. She hadn’t been that mean to him, had she?
“After I finish making your heart, I’m gonna carve an inscription into it: Property of Sterling Westwood. Of Sterling and Stanton. Of Sterling and sometimes Stanton Westwood.”
Or maybe she hadn’t b
een mean enough. “That’s not sharing; that’s owning.”
“Different branches, same tree.”
“A tree you want to tie me to? Like a dog?”
He looked shocked. “Not a dog. A boat. A boat can sail around the world, but when the journey’s over it needs to be tied up, so it doesn’t get lost at sea. That’s all I mean. We know when to let go.
“And we know when to use rope.”
Chapter 19
Rue sat in her room by the fireplace, hands folded in her lap. The twins sat opposite her on the padded bench at the foot of her bed. They’d brought a camera bag, sketch pads, huge lights that Stanton was aiming at her. When the lighting was optimal, he asked his brother:
“What is that?”
“A camera, genius. Borrowed it from Jimi.”
“A Rolleiflex? This is for science, not art.”
Rue said, “Why can’t it be both?”
“Thank you!” Sterling beamed at her. “People always want you to choose.”
“I hate choosing.”
“You don’t have to.” Stanton rolled his eyes at the both of them. “Just sit there.”
“This is strictly professional,” Sterling told her, screwing a lens onto the camera. “No need to be nervous or shy.”
Rue peeled her uniform down to her waist.
Sterling’s borrowed camera hit the floor. “What was I saying?” he asked Rue’s breasts.
“Something about how professional you are. Sit down!”
Sterling scooped the camera from the floor and sat next to his brother.
Stanton stared into Rue’s eyes, patiently. “You can open up anytime.”
“I know.” Rue’s hands were folded again, fingers digging into her flesh. The slit in her chest was clenched so tight, it was nearly invisible.
“We won’t touch you or come closer than we are. We don’t need to. I don’t know about Sterling’s piece of junk, but this camera has a terrific zoom lens.”
“My Mom would kill me if she knew…we don’t do this.”
“We won’t tell anyone. Don’t you trust us? It’s just us.”
Rue nodded. “You won’t stand up? You’ll stay over there?”
“We promise.”
Rue softened and relaxed all over. Took a deep breath. On the seventh breath, the slit slowly parted.