Caterpillar, a Paranormal Romance With a Touch of Horror (28 page)

“No reason to worry about me, Punkin’,” she assured.  I thought her voice had never sounded sweeter.  “When you coming for supper?”

My first thought was to put it off, but I realized that I needed to cherish her as much as I could while I had the chance.  I had no idea what the future held and how it might affect her role in my life.  “How ‘bout I bring some fried chicken over tonight after work.”

“Why, I believe that’d be alright.  I’ve got some apple cobbler for dessert.  I used some of the apples that we canned.  It’s a new recipe. I thought it turned out just fine.”

“That sounds good, Mamaw.”  I smiled at her inane commentary.  She had no idea what kind of hell I’d just suffered.  “It’ll probably be around six-thirtyish, ok?”

“That’s fine, honey.” 

We said our goodbyes and hung up.  I held my position for a few more seconds before testing my legs to carry me back to the kitchen.  Tegan was walking around, presumably cataloging clues.

“Find anything?”

He looked intently around the room for a minute or two before answering.  “I think this ritual calls for the seven churches in the Book of Revelation to invoke Amon.  Obviously you can’t sacrifice a church, so you find representatives of that church instead.  Mistee was a seminary student who was obviously torn between her spiritual convictions and…other things.  Ken Wallace was tortured for ten days, just like Smyrna.  In fact, the name of his church was even Smyrna.  I’m not sure how Jessica fits in yet, but Tira, the prostitute you found in the tub at Carter’s, fits.  Thyatira was also a church in the Bible.  I think its main problem was being seduced by sin, seduced into fornication.

“The problem is identifying which church will be next and how the victim will be selected.  There’s only two left, which means we don’t have much time.  And the victim could be virtually anybody.”

“Then we’ll have to find the killer first.”

“If only it were that easy,” Tegan said, his tone hinting at his mounting exasperation.

“Maybe it will be.  I think I might have another suspect.”

“Well, I hope it’s not the bald guy from the club again.  His alibi checked out.”

“No, it’s not him.  It’s a guy I work with.  His name is Marvin Dennison.” 

I explained to Tegan how I’d come to suspect Merv of the killings.  He looked like he legitimately thought I might be onto something. 

“It’s worth checking out anyway.  Don’t try to touch him.  In fact, don’t go near him if you can help it.  I’ll take it from here.”

“But I can help.  I can—”

“It’s too dangerous, Cat.  And this is all too new to you.”

“But, I have to catch him to break the curse.”

“I know, I know.  We’ll get him.  Don’t worry,” Tegan said, but I was still skeptical.  I didn’t know how comfortable I was putting the resolution of my family’s curse in the hands of someone I didn’t know that much about.  Even though, somewhere deep in my soul, I felt I could trust Tegan, I hadn’t yet learned how to use all my feelings and instincts to my advantage. 

Tegan must’ve noticed the look of skepticism.  He said, “Just trust me, Cat.  Can you do that?”

He looked so sincere and I wanted so, so much to believe in him, to follow the urgings of my heart, but…there was just so much I didn’t yet know.

“I’ll try,” I said honestly.

Although I could tell it wasn’t the answer he was hoping for, he shook his head and must’ve decided it was as good as he was going to get.  So far.  “Good enough,” he said.

The sound of engines and doors opening and closing pulled our attention back to the stove and what it held.  I knew, to some extent, what was coming so I turned off the stove eyes and walked into the living room to await the inevitable interrogation.

Remembering my upcoming showing, I walked out to get my purse and my phone so I could call and reschedule.  The man that I was supposed to be meeting was very agreeable about the change and agreed to postpone it until the following morning at nine.

I spent the next couple of hours repeating the hideous routine I’d fallen into.  When my part was finished and I was released, I changed clothes then drove out for some chicken to take to Mamaw’s. 

I was driving to her house when my phone rang.  It was Tegan.

“We’re about to get things wrapped up here.  Why don’t you give me a call when you’re ready to leave your grandmother’s.  Just a precaution.”

Although I wanted to be a brave adult and assure him I’d be fine, I wasn’t crazy and I didn’t have a death wish.  “Will do,” I agreed, then, “Tegan,” I said, wanting to catch him before he hung up.

“Yeah.”  My emotions were a tangle, my head was a tangle, my life was a tangle.  I had so much I wanted to express, but I just couldn’t seem to find the words.  “Are you there?”  He prompted.

“I’m here.  Sorry.  It was…nothing.  It’s just that…” 

“It’s alright, Cat.  I know,” he said.  Then, his voice dropped a little lower and he repeated, “I know.”  I could sense emotion in him, hear something in his voice, some kindred spirit and I realized that it was likely he
did know
what I was trying to say, what I was feeling.  Somehow, he understood me and I felt like I was beginning to understand him.

“I’ll see you later,” I said finally, feeling better even though I really hadn’t said anything.

“Yep.” And with that he was gone.

I ate dinner with Mamaw, which was a pleasant distraction from…everything.  It amazed me how easy it was becoming to put certain horrific things out of my mind and continue on with my life, as if it were normal, as if
I
were normal.  I suspected that it was part of the gifting to do what I was destined to do.  I imagined that it was essential to be able to compartmentalize if I had any chance of surviving so much death, so much evil.

I was way too full and feeling utterly exhausted as I drove home.  I had already parked at the curb when I realized I’d forgotten to call Tegan.  I looked at my house, now empty, looking deceptively peaceful and quiet.  I saw the shine of the cat’s eyes on the front porch railing.  I hadn’t had any flashes from him so, if I was right about our connection, it was likely safe in there.

I got out and went inside, stopping to scratch the cat’s head on the way.  He purred and arched up into my hand.  He didn’t growl at me.  Apparently we’d made peace with our situation. 

Once inside, I called Tegan and went to get the cat some milk.  I flipped on the light and stood, staring at the disaster in my kitchen.  At least the pots were gone, as were the accompanying body parts.  I suddenly dreaded the evening, knowing that it would be spent cleaning.  I stopped at the fridge and added cat food to my grocery list then proceeded to take a saucer of milk out to the front porch.

Resigned, I changed into some old sweats and a paint-spattered t-shirt, ready as I’d ever be to tackle the kitchen. 

I was gathering trash bags and old rags when I thought I caught a whiff of smoke.  I looked at the stove, but the eyes were all off.  I listened and didn’t hear anything strange. 

The next thing I heard was a loud whoosh.  Then another.  And another.  As my mind struggled to identify the sound, I got another flash from the cat.  He had run into the front yard and was looking back at the house.  It was on fire. 

Chapter Twenty-Five

A little confused by what I saw, I ran into the living room.  The entire front of the house was one big wall of fire.  The curtains were aflame, as was my furniture.  Smoke was quickly filling the room and I could hear the crackling of wood.  I didn’t know how it happened so fast, but I figured that whoever had been in the house earlier had prepared it for incineration before he left. 

I ran back into the kitchen, thinking I’d go out the back, but the back porch was already burning.  I ran into the bedroom, but the bed and the curtains at the window were on fire, too.  I checked the other two bedrooms and they were in similar shape. 

I tried to remain calm and remember what I’d learned about house fires.  Stop, drop and roll wasn’t going to help me—at least not yet.  I recalled something about closing the doors to suffocate the fire, but the fire was already in every room so that wouldn’t help either.  I ran back into the living room and stood before the windows, now bare, wondering if I could run and jump through one and land on the front porch. 

Then I saw Tegan.  He was standing in the yard, looking at me through the glass.  His expression was completely blank.  At first I felt relief.  But the longer he stood there staring at me with that empty look, the more the relief was replaced with something else, something fearful. 

I screamed at him.  “Tegan!”  He didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge me in any way.  I could feel panic rising up to choke me.  “Tegan, help me!”  And still there was nothing.

Smoke was stinging my eyes.  My lungs felt like they were on fire.  The heat scorched my skin, coming at me from every direction. 

The flames licked higher and higher on the walls and crawled across the ceiling.  I stood in the center of the room, staring out at Tegan, my heart aching inside my chest.  It felt too small to contain the overwhelming sense of betrayal and loss I was feeling. 

Once more I tried to reach him.  “Tegan!  Please!”  And still he only stared at me with those blank, dead eyes.

And then I saw him bow his head and raise his arms toward the house, like he’d done the night someone was controlling my car.  I felt the spark of hope kindle in my belly. 

Through the window, I saw the trees outside sway as if strong winds were tugging at their branches.  I felt tension on my body, pressure, as if the walls were closing in on me.  I looked around me and saw the fiery walls warp and wobble, flexing under the strain of…something.  Then I felt a drop of moisture dampen my cheek.  It wasn’t a tear, as was my first thought.  It was a raindrop—inside the house.

And then, like a cloudburst, rain poured from my ceiling.  It ran down the walls and puddled in the floor.  It pounded at the flames until, slowly, they began to recede.  I spread my arms and spun in a circle, reveling in the miracle of the water.  I tipped my chin up and gloried in the drops as they cooled the burning skin of my face.  A laugh of sheer delight bubbled up in my throat. 

I looked up to where Tegan stood in the yard and he raised his head.  Our eyes met across the yard.  Something deep and eternal in his gaze seared my heart and etched his name, his
being,
onto my very soul.  And then he fell.   And my heart fell with him.

I ran to the door and flung it open, making my way to Tegan where he lay in the yard.  I knelt beside him.

“Tegan!  Tegan!”  There was no response.  I cupped his face in my hands and patted his cheeks.  “Tegan!  Look at me!” 

His eyes fluttered open and I met the dark depths.  Much as they had the last time he had been injured, the color was a deep dark red that pulled me into a world of bliss.  Before I could lose myself to the feeling, however, he closed them and turned his head away.  I patted his cheeks again. 

“Go.  Just leave me.”

“Are you crazy?  I’m not leaving you.”

“Go,” he said a little more forcefully.  “It’s too dangerous.”

“What is?”

“Here.  With me.”

“What do you—“

“Cat, go!” He interrupted as forcefully as he could.

“I’m not leaving you,” I repeated.

“I can’t hold on much longer and I-I…”

“What?  You what?”

It took me a second to realize that he must need blood.  Before I had time to rethink my offer, the words were out.  “But I want you to drink from me.”