Shiver the Whole Night Through (9 page)

I gulped painfully and supressed a squeak. Oh man, this was heavy. I was out of my depth. I wanted to run, I wanted to stay. I wanted to hear the rest of the story. I told myself to grow a pair and managed to hold my position without running off, wailing like a baby.

‘I don't remember anything else for a while after that. I must have blacked out or something. Don't even remember falling to the ground, which I must have. When you die, you fall down, isn't that how it goes? No memory of my body being brought to that tree, near the entrance. No memory of being buried or rising from the dead. No Jesus-style resurrection stories to tell, I'm afraid. I was dead, I knew I was  …  and then I was still dead but also awake, lying on that wall where we first met. It was night. I felt as cold as before, but like I said, I didn't mind now. I didn't seem to feel things in the old way. That was all gone.
I
was gone, and yet I was right there. Looking like this.'

She gestured down her body, pointed to her face, tilted her head and smiled distantly. I chanced a joke, to lighten the mood for me if not her: ‘Well, you look pretty good for it, I must say. For a dead girl, you look grand.'

‘Thanks. And that's it. You wanted to know; now you know. Bet you're glad you asked, huh?'

‘I
am
glad.'

‘Thanks again. Sorry, though: it doesn't really answer your questions, does it? I mean I still don't fully know what happened. Or why.' Sláine shrugged. ‘But at least you know as much as I do.'

‘So basically – you
did
die of hypothermia? Like the autopsy said.'

‘No. That would suggest a natural physical reaction to extreme conditions. This wasn't just low temperatures, Aidan. This cold, it – it almost had a mind. It
wanted
me. And I think it came for me.'

‘Why?'

‘I don't know that either. But I'm convinced of it. Something, someone, I don't know – it drew me here that night, from my home. It
lured
me.'

I had something then, an idea, a theory: ‘Maybe  …  hypnotised you? Persuaded you to come out here. Like how you can sort of do it to others.'

‘Maybe. Yeah, that's possible. Anyway, it got me here, then it took me. Took my life and changed me into this. Tch. Whatever this is.'

She looked a bit disgusted saying that. I retorted, ‘Hey,
this
is you. You're not some monster or ghoul. You're just a girl. And a pretty cool one at that.'

‘Really?' she drawled, totally sceptical.

‘Yes. You're still Sláine. Just  …  I don't know, in a different package. Same you. I
know
it. I didn't know you before – this is all gut instinct but shit, gut instincts are usually right. You're a good person with a big heart. Even if you've got trouble believing it yourself.
I
believe it.' I muttered to myself, ‘You
couldn't
be a monster, cos if you were a monster  …  '

I stopped myself. She smiled and diplomatically changed tack, saying, ‘Why did
you
come here? We can come back to my story, but just answer this for me. You were here a few times after I died. Why? That night we met, you looked like you were on stakeout.'

‘I sort of was  …  I'm not sure. Something drew me here. Not like with you, I don't mean some presence. I just wanted to see where you'd been found, that was the start. I was curious. Also I felt shitty for what'd happened to you. You always came across as all right – it didn't seem fair. I came back, decided to try and find out exactly what had happened. Facts didn't seem to stack up, you know? And then  …  you left me the message and I thought, oh she was murdered, and basically at that point I was trying to catch the killer. That's why I was here the night we met. I'd read that killers often return to the scene of their crimes, so  …  ' I chuckled. ‘Christ. As if I'd've been any good anyway! Like, me? Bringing down a murderer one-handed? Anyway, that's it. End of report.' I looked at Sláine. ‘So was it  … 
were
you murdered, then? Sorry, that's – I'm sorry, can't think of a better way to put that.'

‘It's all right. The answer is, I don't know. Something made this happen to me. But was it a some
one
? There, my lad, lies the question.'

I grimaced and swallowed hard again. This was getting crazier by the minute. I felt ever more out of my depth.

She said, putting some cheerfulness into it, ‘Ah, it's not
that
bad. Being dead. Hey, I probably would have never met you if I was still alive.'

We smiled at each other, bittersweet. Sláine added, ‘I didn't choose it and I'd prefer if it hadn't happened. But it's not so bad. Honestly.'

‘Do you feel – sad? About it all.'

‘I don't think so. Not happy, but  …  no. Not sad. Although it kind of feels as if I've gone past all that altogether. Those simple emotions. Happy, sad. They don't seem to apply to me any more.'

‘Okay. I won't pretend to understand that, but I can accept it.'

‘Actually,' she said, ‘it's funny. After the first day or so, once the mental shock of it wore off and I'd adjusted to my new  …  life, whatever this is. Once I accepted that this was how it was now, there was nothing I could do about it. A change came over me. I realised that I felt different. It wasn't scary or depressing so much. It started to feel  …  as if I was
returning
in some way. Coming back to something, some previous state of being. It almost felt like going home.'

I looked around the old hunting lodge and smiled. I kind of knew what she meant by that.

Then I turned back to Sláine and was shocked – not the usual ‘how can this be happening?' stuff I'd got accustomed to, but in a far more normal,
human
way. For the first time since I'd met her, she looked tired, despondent, even a little afraid. Her shoulders were slumped, her gaze landing at a spot on the wall or some distant point in the uncertain future. If I hadn't assumed it to be impossible, I would have sworn she was about to start crying.

I said, concern making my voice shake, ‘Sláine. What is it?'

She didn't reply for what seemed an age. Finally she said, barely above a whisper, ‘I need your help, Aidan. You have to help me.'

She
needed
my
help? This was unexpected. If I'd been asked to summarise the Sláine I'd come to know, it'd probably be along the lines of ‘capable, unflappable, self-reliant, self-contained'. It hadn't occurred to me that she could need anything. She liked me, I knew that, and appreciated whatever our friendship gave her; but actually
needed
me? I was dumbfounded.

There it was, though. Sláine had asked for my help, and I guessed it hadn't come easy to her, either: some kick of simple pride making the words stumble in her mouth; some trace of the mortal ego she once possessed lingering on in this new incarnation. She'd asked for help, and I'd give it, no hesitations.

‘Of course,' I said. ‘Anything I can do – what, tell me what.'

‘I'd hoped to work it out for myself: who killed me, why they did it. What this all means. It must mean something. And I want to know, I
need
to. But I  …  I can't do it by myself, I'm not able, I need you to help.'

I moved closer to her, sitting on the bed but leaving her some personal space. ‘Sure. I told you, whatever I can do, I will.'

‘I can't enter buildings, right? Properties. Except your house, for whatever reason, and here. And I can't be everywhere at once. I can't go into town during the day, in case someone sees me – I don't think they would, but the risk isn't worth taking. I can't be away from the forest for too long. Not really sure why, it just  …  draws me back. Like a magnet, I'm not able to stay away for long. So, you have to do some of that for me. Going into specific places. Being my eyes and ears out there.'

‘Cool. What are you thinking exactly?'

‘Research. Investigation.'

Sláine sort of shook herself down then, stood and began pacing around the room as she mentally worked it through. ‘As far as I can see, there are only two possible explanations for what's going on, essentially. One, this thing, this presence I felt: it's some weird force of nature, beyond human control. Or two, it's being manipulated by someone. A person.'

‘Who lives in our town.'

‘Almost certainly. There isn't another for miles in all directions.'

‘And it'd make sense, wouldn't it? If you were up to some black magic bullshit, then you'd want to be right there, where the action is.'

She nodded. ‘So those're our two options. There may be more, but we have to be practical. We have to assume all this is down to one or other. Otherwise it's needle-in-a-haystack stuff.'

I nodded too. ‘Okay. Makes sense. It's a start, anyway.'

‘Right. We have to start somewhere.'

‘So, what? You want me to check stuff out in the library? Bookshops? Maybe second-hand shops. Like, research into local folklore, legends of supernatural events, stories, rumours.' I clicked my fingers. ‘
Specifically
, any mentions of people dying from the cold, under mysterious circumstances. I could look at microfiche of old newspapers, that sorta thing.'

‘Yes. But not just local. Anything along those lines, anywhere in the world.'

‘Like Bella in
Twilight
. Yeah? That scene where she's reading about vampire mythologies across the planet cos she suspected yer man of being one, the guy with the hair.'

Sláine smiled for the first time in ages. ‘Big
Twilight
fan, are you?'

I scowled. ‘
No
. It was, uh  …  one of the girls in school was on about it. Go on, what's next?'

‘What's next is the possibility that someone is behind it. Controlling this force of  …  coldness, whatever it might be. But the person we could be looking for, we've got to narrow it down. Can't just interrogate everyone in the town and ask them, “Are you a murderer?”'

‘Agreed.'

‘The way I see it, our hypothetical killer fits the following criteria.' She ticked off the list on outstretched fingers. ‘One, a man, almost certainly. Because most killers are men – that's a statistical fact. But more than this, I felt something  … 
masculine
. That night, when I died. When he – he, it – lured me out here. There was something male in the air. Something sour and cold and male.'

I chanced a joke: ‘Could describe virtually every asshole I go to school with, to be honest.'

Sláine smiled again, thank God. She went on. ‘Two: living locally. Three: with an interest in the occult. Paranormal, supernatural, stuff like that. Sorry, I can't be any more specific – my mind feels like it's on go-slow or something. You know what I mean anyway.'

‘I do.'

‘And four  …  Screw it. I don't really have a four.'

She looked tired once more, plonking back onto the bed beside me.

I felt this mad urge to raise her spirits again, cheer her up, say
something
. ‘Well, well, four could be, like  …  anyone acting suspiciously. I'll keep my eyes and ears open for anything dodgy. Get on to Podsy again too, see if the Guards heard something.'

‘He can't know about this. About me, I mean.'

‘I'll be discreet, don't worry  …  Sláine, did you
really
feel this? That there was someone out here that night, a man, a human being. Or is it some kind of retrospective thing?'

She shrugged. ‘I'm not sure. You might be right. Look, let's assume there was. Again, we need to fix on a start point. Let's make it that.'

‘Good enough.' I asked, nearly as an afterthought, ‘You reckon it's anything to do with this weird weather we've been having?'

Sláine raised her eyebrows, as if the thought hadn't struck her, which surprised me. ‘
Yeah
,' she said. ‘Good spot.'

‘Well it's so feckin'
freezing
, you know? It's not normal for Ireland to be this Baltic. And then what happened to you, the cold  … 
Ergo ipso facto
: possible connection.'

‘Definitely. Good spot, Aidan. Bad Latin, but good spot.'

‘Yep. It ain't easy being this brilliant.' I stretched my back out. ‘Should I go now? You want me to go?'

‘No, just  …  stay here. For a while longer, stay with me. I don't  …  ' She sighed deeply, a sorrowful sound that set my nerves on edge. ‘It's not just the logistics of it. Asking you to help me: that wasn't the only reason. I do need your help, the practical stuff I mean. But I also need
you
. Someone to share all this with, another  …  Heh. Another
person
, if that's even what I am any more. I don't want to feel I'm in this thing by myself, you know? That I'm all alone.'

‘Whoa. You are
not
alone. I'm here for you, Sláine. Always.'

She smiled at me and it was even sadder than that sigh. I thought my heart was going to crack. My mind scrambled around for some words of comfort, anything to salve her spirit. Providence or blind chance landed on these: ‘On that third day, you said you were lonely; you knew I was lonely, like that purple star glowing on the rail track. Could we rupture the fabric of space and time again? We are hearts talking across continents.'

My voice trailed off. I felt embarrassed, and knowing that I'd no reason for it didn't make me feel it any less. Sláine caught my hand; hers was freezing but I left mine there.

She said, ‘That was beautiful. I don't know it. Where's it from?'

‘You don't know it cos I wrote it. Unpublished poet, thus far anyway.' I grinned crookedly and looked away.