Authors: Jools Sinclair
He sat down again and held his head in his hands.
“The smell was so bad. So bad. I could smell it before I even got to the door.”
He looked up at me.
“It was sick. I wanted to puke right there, but he comes up to me and pulls at my shirt like really hard and makes me go inside.”
I inhaled slowly, trying to shake the feeling that was building inside me. Spenser started touching his fingers together over and over as he watched the family running around on the grass.
“What was in there, Spenser?” I asked after a long silence. “What was in the shack?”
“Cats,” he said finally. “Five, maybe more. All laid out on this long table. All without heads. Devin had decapitated them and nailed their heads up on the wall.”
Chills ran up and down my back and I struggled to breathe.
“What did you do?”
“I think I screamed. No, I’m sure I did. And he just started laughing. He says to me that this was his sport. That he played games, too. Not soccer, but ‘games.’ And then he says he wants me to join him. And he pulls out a bag from the corner and I hear the meowing.”
“Oh, my God,” I said.
“He hands me the bag and tells me he wants me to do it. Slice off the head for the collection. It’s the best feeling in the world he says. ‘I want this for you, McSorley.’”
Spenser shook his head. He was crying. I didn’t know what to say.
“I’m like, you’re sick man. And he’s laughing and I’m backing out of that shed and he’s following me with the bag. And then he pulls out a knife. And he says that he’ll just do it himself, that he’ll show me how it’s done.”
I had seen my share of evil, but Spenser’s story showed me that I wasn’t finished learning.
“I didn’t know what else to do. I grabbed the bag and ran. I ran as fast as I could across the field. I could hear him laughing behind me, but I knew he couldn’t catch up. No way. But then I tripped. By the time I got up, he was on my ass. And he was crazy mad, calling me all these names and waving that knife around. I wasn’t just scared for the cat I was holding anymore. I thought…”
He stopped mid-sentence.
“You thought he was going to kill you,” I said.
Spenser looked over at me.
“No,” he said. “I
knew
he was going to kill me.”
He sat quiet for a moment and I waited. I didn’t want to rush him. I knew that it took everything he had to be here, telling me his story. But I worried he would disappear before he had a chance to finish.
I cleared my throat and he started again.
“But something happened inside me. Even when I tripped and fell and I could hear him getting closer and closer, I decided that I wasn’t going to let him have the cat. I was holding onto that bag with all my strength and I was going to fight to save it. I ran and ran in the dark, across the open field. I had no idea where I was anymore. Everything was so dark and still. All I knew was who was behind me.”
I nodded.
“I ran right out onto that road. And that’s when the car hit me. The next thing I know I’m mangled in some bush, and in a lot of pain. I taste blood in my mouth. And I can’t move.”
“That’s terrible,” I said, thinking the story was over. It wasn’t.
“Devin found me. He found me and he walked up to me and saw that I was having trouble breathing. And then he takes out his cell phone and I’m thinking, good. Help is on the way. I’ll be all right. I’m coughing up blood, but I can hold on. But no. The sick bastard isn’t calling anyone. He’s taking pictures. He’s taking pictures of me. He says in a sweet, soft voice that he’s always been curious about it. And then he asks me, Abby. He asks me how it feels to die.”
“Oh, my God,” I said. “My God.”
I didn’t have any words. None. My mind was sludge and I just sat there next to Spenser, wanting to scream or yell or hit something. It was beyond horror, this story he told me. I wasn’t expecting it. I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t have anything to comfort him with. I just stared out in front of me, seeing nothing, unable to speak or think or react.
Numb.
“I want you to tell Mo,” he said. “Maybe it will help her to know.”
“I will,” I said. “I’ll tell her.”
“But Abby, that’s not why I’m here. There’s—”
A soccer ball suddenly flew between us and I jumped up and caught it in mid-air, throwing it back to the girl who was running in my direction. I knew before looking. Spenser McSorley was gone.
I stood up and stumbled in Ty’s direction, feeling sick. Everything was spinning, Spenser’s voice echoing in my head, the light leaving the world.
CHAPTER 27
Ty put his arm around me as we walked back over to his truck.
“You’re shaking, Abby,” he said. “Are you okay? What happened over there?”
“I’m fine,” I said, breathing in the cool air. “Really. Just give me one minute.”
We walked in silence as he took off his jacket and put it around me. He pulled me close.
“You sure you’re okay?”
I stopped and hugged him.
“I’m okay,” I said. “Do you have any water?”
He opened the door.
“Yeah, sit down. I’ll get it out of the back.”
“You weren’t really meditating back there, were you?” he said while I took a long drink.
“Ah, the hell with it,” I said after a long pause. “I suppose this is as good a time as any. You’re right, I wasn’t meditating. There’s something you don’t know about me.”
He smiled.
I tried to smile.
“Hit me,” he said.
“I see ghosts.”
I just put it out there. The smile left his lips.
“What?”
“You know. Ghosts. Dead people.”
His light eyes looked like balloons being filled with helium.
“No way,” he said. “You’re kidding, right?”
I shook my head.
“There’s a boy I keep seeing. He’s the brother of someone I work with. He was over in those trees and I had to go talk to him.”
I stared into his eyes, trying to read his mood. Ty was always the same. Not too much ever affected him. But this time he looked different, waves of dark energy dancing around him.
“I know it’s a lot to take on,” I said. “And I want to tell you more. But I can’t right now. I have to get home. There’s something I have to do.”
“All right,” was all he said, turning the key in the ignition.
We drove back to town in silence. The 20 minutes felt like 20 hours.
When he dropped me off and disappeared down the street, I stood there wondering if the truth was overrated, if I would see him again. If he would ever look at me the same. I wanted him to come back and hold me and tell me that it didn’t matter. That he loved me anyway. That it didn’t matter one bit to him that I walked in two worlds.
After I realized he wasn’t coming back, I unlocked the door and went inside.
I took a shower, letting the water carry away my tears, and then I called Mo.
CHAPTER 28
It was after three, but when she picked up it sounded like she was still in bed.
“Yeah,” she said, making it sound like a salutation.
“Mo, it’s Abby.”
“I know,” she said, followed by a long pause.
“Can you meet me?”
We agreed to meet at Thump. Mo said she needed caffeine but didn’t want to deal with “the people I spend my life with.” I headed downtown.
It was pretty quiet in the café. Only a few small groups of people were scattered at tables as soft jazz music played in the background. It felt a lot different than Back Street, but maybe that was just because I didn’t work there.
I found a table in the back. Kate and I used to come here a lot. They had good coffee and I always liked the employees and as I sat there waiting, I realized how much I missed it.
It didn’t take Mo long to show up. She flung the door open and got in line. I wasn’t sure if she saw me, but after she got her drink she came straight over.
“Hey,” she said.
She kept her sunglasses on. Her clothes were a little wrinkled. She sat down, gulping the coffee that must have been too hot to drink.
“Hey,” I said.
“So what did he say?” she asked, taking off her glasses and throwing them down on the table. Her eyes had dark circles under them.
“He told me about that night,” I said. “And some other things.”
“Tell me,” she said. “I’m ready.”
CHAPTER 29
After I told Mo everything Spenser had told me, she sat in a stupor, deep in thought or something more primal.
There wasn’t much to do but sit there with her.
“I’m going to kill him,” she said finally, controlled rage in her voice.
“No, Mo,” I said. “That’s not why I told you.”
“He’s dead already,” she said, standing up.
I followed her outside and stopped her on the sidewalk.
“Mo, listen. Please. It’s not like you can go over there and beat him up. He’s not normal.”
“This isn’t your concern anymore. Thanks for what you did, but this is about my family. My brother. Devin killed him and he’s going to pay.”
We were standing in front of the Oxford Hotel and I was trying to keep my voice down, hoping she would do the same. There were a lot of people around.
“You’re wrong, Mo. It is my concern. Spenser came to me. You can’t just go over there and pummel Devin into the ground. We need to be smart about this.”
“I can do what I want. And I’m not afraid of that little psycho. I told Spenser way back he was bad news. I saw it a million miles away, but he still was friends with him. Now, get out of my way.”
“You’ve got to listen to what I’m saying. Devin isn’t like us. I know what I’m talking about. I’ve dealt with this kind of thing before.”
She pulled out a cigarette.
“Let’s walk over to the park and talk for a few minutes,” I said. “Please. Just give me five minutes.”
She didn’t say anything but took off toward the river and I followed, breathing the white stream of smoke that flowed behind her. We walked quickly, taking shortcuts across alleys and parking lots.
There was an empty bench not too far from the water. We sat down at opposite ends and stared at a large swan floating in the distance.
“Don’t tell me I don’t understand,” she said. “I’ve dealt with plenty of freaks in my life. And I know how to put them in their place. I’ve never had a problem with that.”
“I’m sure that’s true. But I’m willing to bet you’ve never dealt with any murderers, have you? Real ones? Well, I have.”
I hadn’t planned on telling her about Nathaniel, but I did. I told her about what had happened to me on that island near the Canadian border, about the scientists who did experiments on me, and about Nathaniel trying to kill me so he could bring me back to life.
Mo’s eyes grew wide when I told her the part about being strapped to a gurney and lowered down into a pool of water to drown.
“You can’t go straight at him. As long as he doesn’t know we know what really happened that night, we have the upper hand. But we lose that if he finds out. The brief satisfaction you’d get from hurting him won’t be worth it. He’s evil. Probably smart. We’ve got to be smart too. We need to think about this.”
She sighed, a trace of reason returning to her eyes.
“Okay. So what do you suggest then?”
I sat back. I tried to think of a solution, something that would sound like justice being served. But I drew a blank. I had nothing.
“I don’t know yet. I need some time to figure this out. All I know is that if you go over there now, you’ll just tip him off that we know something. We don’t want that.”
She blew out a cloud in front of her.
“I can see that,” she said, sucking down more smoke.
We watched as a group of goths went by. I saw her nod to one of them and he nodded back.
I didn’t know what else to say to Mo. I was out of words. I wasn’t even sure how we could convince the authorities that Devin was the one who was at least partially responsible for Spenser’s death.
“I’ll give you some time to think on it,” she said. “I’ll do the same.”
She stood up and walked away, catching up with the group that had passed by. I sat there looking at the dark water.
CHAPTER 30
We were on the sofa watching a show when I told Kate about Spenser. She muted the TV at first and then turned it off. By the time I had finished, she had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
“I don’t even know what to say,” she said. “It’s too awful for words.”
I just nodded.
Each of us alone with our thoughts, we sat quietly for a few minutes as the light left the sky outside. Then she got up and headed to the kitchen. I followed her.
“The granite is going to be nice,” I said, running my fingers across the old, white tiles on the counter. We had lived in this house since we were kids and I remembered sliding little plastic race cars across them.
“Yeah, they’re coming out next month,” she said, opening up a cupboard. “You were the one who inspired me to order them, Abby. I thought that you might like to work in a really kicked-up kitchen.”
“I didn’t know that you were doing it for me,” I said. “That was nice.”
The kettle started whistling and she poured the boiling water over tea bags into two large mugs and handed me one.
“You know, back when you were up there on that island, I kept thinking that if I could just get you home everything would be okay.”
I held the cup, letting the heat warm my hands.
“And then, when we were on the plane and I was looking out at the clouds at the pinks and blues of the sunset as we were landing, I thought about how there was nothing more important in the world than you making it back here. Nothing. And how lucky it was that I was sitting next to you, heading back to our little house.”
I looked up at her, words stuck in my throat.
“I’m just so grateful that you are still here,” she said, pulling out the barstool and sitting down next to me. “And every time I hear terrible stories like that, it chills me to the bone. But it reminds me again how lucky we are.”
She tapped my arm with her hand and I patted her shoulder.