Grace Lost (33 page)

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Authors: M. Lauryl Lewis

Tags: #Fiction, #Horror

BOOK: Grace Lost
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Her contractions were on top of
one another now.  Her body took over somehow, even though her mind was
unwilling to let go of her baby. 

“Louisa,” said Gus firmly. 
“You have to open your legs.  Pull your thighs back darlin.’”

Emilie and I helped hold her legs
up and back, not knowing what else to do.  Louisa began moaning in Spanish
as her abdomen tensed.  A heavy gush of blood came out of her vagina,
soaking both her legs and a towel that Gus had placed on the mattress by her
bottom.  My eyes widened as I saw a tiny foot hanging out from between her
legs.  I felt faint.

Gus sat close to Louisa’s bottom,
prepared to catch the baby who promised to come at any moment.  He reached
behind him and grabbed one of the bath towels I had brought in.  Louisa’s
body tensed again, and a tiny little human slid from her body.  My vision
was blurry from tears, but I watched in amazement as Gus held the amazingly
small baby in the faded green towel.  It looked so fragile.  It was
limp and had skin that looked almost translucent.  It was a deep shade of
purple.  A thin umbilical cord still connected baby to mother. 

“It’s a boy,” said Gus quietly as
he used the towel to wrap the newborn. 

Louisa’s body shuddered with her
crying, which intensified once the baby’s gender was announced.

“Louisa, do you want to hold him?”
asked Gus.

She nodded, and Gus placed the
little bundle on her chest.  Emilie and I both let go of her hands so she
could hold the wee babe.  One of his little hands lay limp on her chest,
sticking out from the towel.  She touched his tiny fingers with the tips
of her own, and then traced his tiny brow with her index finger.  His eyes
were closed.

“He’s so tiny,” she
whispered.  “He’s so still,” she said as fresh tears began to fall. 
She
unwrapped
his little body and stroked his tiny
back with her palm.  “Julio,” she whispered.  “Baby Julio I love
you.”

The new baby squeaked, the tiniest
human cry I’ve ever heard.  He gasped for air, and cried one more
time.  Gus hung his head.  I looked at Emilie, hopeful, but she just
shook her head back and forth slowly.  I looked back to the baby, who was
once again still and a deep shade of blue.  Gus covered Louisa’s hand and
the infant with another towel, allowing her to stay in contact with him. 
Gus began using more of the towels to sop up blood that still escaped from
Louisa.

“Louisa,” he said.  She
didn’t answer.

Isa.

Louisa’s eyes flickered
open. 

“Isa, listen to me.  You’re
bleeding.  We need to get the placenta out, darlin.’  I need you to
push this time.  It won’t hurt baby Julio.”

Louisa tried to push, but was too
weak.  Her usual glowing copper skin was pale.  Gus wore a grave look
on his face.  He held the umbilical cord with the towel and applied gentle
traction.  A small clump of tissue slid out, attached to the umbilical
cord, producing a sloppy suction-like sound.   I cringed
quietly.  Following the lump of tissue was a large dark blood clot. 
I had seen enough, so looked away.

Gus sighed loudly.  “You can
relax her legs, girls.”

“Don’t we need to do something
else?” I asked, sincerely not knowing. 

Gus shook his head.  “No
darlin, they’re both gone.”

I looked at Emilie, not quite
understanding.  My red-headed friend had bloodshot eyes and looked pale.

“Gone?” I asked.  “What do
you mean
gone
?”

Emilie sniffled.  “They’re
with Julio now,” said Emilie, who choked on the words.

“Why?” I asked, not knowing what
else to say.

Gus looked up.  I think it
was the first time I’d seen him really crying.  “There was nothing I could
do, Zoe.  Louisa bled too much.  The baby was too young to
live.  There’s just no way I could have saved either of them.  You
both need to go downstairs,” he added solemnly.  “Zoe, leave your revolver
with me?”

“Why?” I asked again.

Emilie stepped around the bed and
came up beside me.  “Go down with Boggs,” she said softly.  I’ll be
down soon.  I need to stay here with Gus.”

“You don’t have to, Em,” he said

“I want to,” she said back. 
“I need to.”

I knew in my heart what was going
on, but was too numb to process it.  I left my revolver with Gus and
walked to the door.  I turned to look back one last time.

“Zoe?” asked Gus.  He sounded
exhausted.  “Shut the door behind you?”

I didn’t answer, but stepped into
the hall and quietly closed the door.  The dim hallway spun around
me.  I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, and breathed. 
Just breathed.

I started trembling and forced
myself to walk down the hall, down the stairs, and into the living room where
Boggs and Susan sat beside each other.  Susan leaned against Boggs. 
They looked up at me.  Boggs stood immediately, rushing to my side.

“Zoe?  What’s going
on?”  His voice was full of concern and fear.

I felt myself starting to fall,
and Boggs caught me in his arms.

“Susan, help me…”

Susan stood and came to our
side.  She wrapped an arm around me and she and Boggs helped me to the
loveseat.  I slumped into it, frozen in sadness and from the surreal
situation. 

“The baby was born alive,” I
said.  My voice sounded distant.  “They’re both gone now.”

“Zoe?” Boggs asked. 
“Dead?”

“Ya,” I whispered.  I looked
down at Boggs, who knelt in front of me.  The baby was too early. 
She named him Julio.  Gus said Louisa bled too much.”  I started
sobbing.  “She got to hold him before she died, Boggs.  He was so
tiny.”

           
Susan was sitting beside me, and she tenderly had an arm around me.  How
she could be holding me, her competition for Boggs, was beyond my
understanding.  How Louisa and her baby could be dead was beyond my
understanding.  How the dead could be walking the earth and devouring the
living was beyond my understanding.

Chapter
17

 

I was able to hear Emilie moan in
anger above over my own sobbing.  Immediately after she cried out, I heard
the sound of my revolver firing overhead.  I felt my stomach drop, my skin
went ice cold, and Susan began sobbing beside me. The flicker of intrusive
thought in my head had been mercifully brief.  Boggs stood and walked up
the stairs slowly, leaving me and Susan to comfort each other.

“What was that?” she asked me, her
voice full of fear and disgust.

“Louisa woke up,” was all I could
choke out. 

I knew the door upstairs opened
because Emilie’s crying got louder.  I could hear Boggs’ muffled talking,
and I could hear when Gus broke down for the first time since I had met
him.  The sound of a grown man weeping is in itself a frightening and
heart wrenching thing. 

Gus’ expression of grief got
louder for a brief period while he walked through the hall.  I heard his
bedroom door close and knew he had shut himself in the room as a way to
cope. 

“I have to go to Boggs and
Emilie,” I whispered to Susan.

I stood, shakily.

“Don’t leave me alone?” she
begged.  Her face was a mess of tears and grief.

I held a hand out to her, and she
took it.  She stood and we walked the stairs together.

“Susan, go into my room and
wait?  I’ll be back soon.”

She nodded and let herself into
the room I shared with Boggs.  I hesitantly walked to the room where
mother and baby had died and entered.  The many candles that Emilie and
Susan had lit earlier in the day still flickered.  Boggs was standing at
the foot of the bed, looking at the mother who in death still clung to her
baby. 

“Where’s Emilie?” I asked quietly.

He turned to me, his eyes
threatening to spill tears of their own.  “She’s with Gus.  They’re a
mess.”

“I sent Susan to our room,” I
said. 

Boggs nodded.  “Louisa came
back, Zoe.  Gus had to…”

I interrupted to spare him from
having to explain.  “I heard. 
The baby?”
 
I asked.

He shook his head.  “It’s
just been still.  I told Gus I’d watch for awhile, though.”

I noticed Boggs held my revolver
in his right hand.

“Maybe it won’t happen,” I said,
hopeful.

“Maybe not.”

They say a watched pot never
boils, but talking about it makes it happen.  It was then that I heard
that faint tiny cry again, and felt the dead baby invade my mind. 

Boggs looked at me for
confirmation.

I nodded once.  “It’s
turned.”

He sighed.  “What should we
do?”

“I think a gun is overkill, pardon
the pun,” I said through fresh tears.

“I’ll do it, Zoe.  I’ll make
it quick.”

“Please hurry, Boggs?  Send
him to be with his mom and dad?”

He nodded.  I left the room
and went to sit with Susan.  I got to our doorway.  I never heard
anything, but knew it was over when the spark in my mind died.  I hoped
I’d never come to learn how Boggs had gone about it.

I took a deep breath, and walked
into our room.  Susan was sitting on the bed, her back resting on our
headboard.

She looked up at me, her face
illuminated by the glow of a single candle.

“It’s over,” I said. 
“They’re all together now. 
A family of three.”

“Can I stay in here tonight?”
asked the other woman through her tears.

I nodded. 
“Of
course.”
  I couldn’t send her to be alone downstairs or expect her
to return to her room where the corpses of our friend and her baby
remained. 

I walked over to the bed and sat
down beside her.  “Why don’t you climb under the covers?  Try to
sleep.”

She nodded.  “Ok.”

I tucked the woman in.  “I
need to use the bathroom for a little while, Susan.  I’ll be back in
awhile.”

She nodded.  “Zoe?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for being nice to me.”

I smiled at her, but didn’t put
much effort into making it seem sincere.

I walked alone to the bathroom,
where I intended to draw a hot bath and try to soak many layers of evil off of
myself.  I was filthy.  I lit a large candle that we kept on the
counter.  I studied myself in the mirror.  My clothes were mucky from
our trek through the woods.  I wasn’t sure if the blood smeared on my arm
was from Louisa, the faceless little girl in pigtails, or something I wasn’t
even aware of.  Dirt was smeared on my face.  I took my clothes off
and piled them near the sink.  I walked to the claw foot tub and started
the water.  Once it was warm, I put the stopper in the drain and climbed
in.  I sat upright and drew my legs up, curling into a ball.  I cried
openly, hoping the sound of the water running would drown out my sobs.  I
wanted to be alone.  I ached from head to toe, inside and out.  I was
tired of living in a Hell on Earth and tired of losing friends.  I was
tired of being afraid day and night.  The tub eventually filled and I shut
the water off.  I let myself slip under the water and hoped to soak my
troubles away.  I came up for air and let myself just lay there with my
eyes closed.

I was only aware of the passage of
time by the water cooling.  I drained the bath and got out.  Chilled,
I wrapped in one of the last towels in the closet.  The house was
quiet.  I tiptoed back across the hall to our room and slipped inside
quietly.  I could hear Boggs snoring softly and saw that he was lying on
the bed beside Susan.  He was on top of the covers, so I figured it was
fine.  I was too exhausted to worry about worrying.

I rummaged through the armoire and
put on an undershirt and a new pair of men’s boxers.  With nowhere to lie
down, I opted to move downstairs and sit by the fire.  I crept back out of
the room, careful to be quiet so as to not wake up Boggs or Susan. 

Once back in the dark hall, I used
my hand to guide my way, feeling the wall.  As I passed Gus and Emilie’s
room I could hear them making love.  It sounded almost violent, and I
assumed it was their way of coping with their grief and recent
separation.  I could hear Emilie crying gently as Gus grunted and
groaned.  I didn’t imagine he’d be the type to hurt the woman he loves, so
I left well enough alone and let them be. 

I treaded lightly on the stairs
and walked to the living room.  I took my time crossing to where the
fireplace should be, avoiding bumping into furniture in the pitch black. 
I finally got to the fireplace, which I found with an outstretched hand. 
I fumbled for the ignite button and pressed it.  There had always been a
delay between hitting the button and the flames jumping to life.  I
waited, and was glad when the room was finally illuminated. 

I wrapped myself in the afghan
from one of the couches and walked to the kitchen.  I didn’t bother
lighting a candle since the firelight from the other room reached well enough
to see by.  My stomach growled.  I wasn’t sure how long it had been
since I’d eaten last.  I opened a cabinet and looked inside without much
enthusiasm.  I found a jar of green olives and a bottle of flavored water
and set them on the counter while I continued to rummage through a second
cabinet.  I settled on the last little foil pouch of Pop Tarts and carried
the three items back to the living room where I set them on the small coffee
table.  I plopped on the couch and sipped at the water.  Before long
I was guzzling and it was gone. 

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