Sudden Independents (33 page)

There was nothing to be done about the blood on the steps and the carpet. Scout brought a candle, shielded with his hand, and walked halfway down the hallway before reaching a pair of doors on opposite sides. One might lead to Raven. Another probably led to the lion’s den.

The door on his right was locked when he tried the knob, but the other on his left pushed open and he peeked inside. Sunlight cascaded down a steel window-well into the empty room. Scout left the door ajar for the added light and proceeded to the end of the hallway.

He entered another large room and lit more candles. Several loaded bookshelves lined the wall to the left. To his right, tall racks contained dusty wine bottles with their corks still intact.

Straight ahead, two doors were spaced ten feet apart, barred with two-by-fours. Scout grew excited, guessing that inside each room he’d find his girlfriend and the little girl. He chose the left first and lifted the board out of its braces. The door swung wide on silent hinges.

“Finally,” Catherine said from inside pitch-blackness.

Scout moved forward filling the big closet with candlelight. Startled by an unbelievable sight, the candle slipped from his hand, bounced off the floor and the flame winked out.

“Well that’s not very helpful,” Catherine said.

Scout flicked his Zippo and relit the wick. He stared at Catherine with her arms and legs tied to a large wagon wheel propped against the wall.

She waved her tiny fingers at him. “Please untie me. I really don’t want to roll out of here on my own.”

Scout placed the candle on the floor. He unsheathed his ankle knife and quickly sliced the little girl’s bonds. “Why did they tie you up like this? Did they torture you?”

“Hardly, I’m always getting tied to those things.” She wrapped her arms around Scout in a crushing hug. “I knew it would be you.”

For someone who had been living like a mushroom, Catherine still looked and smelled like sunshine He brushed back her blonde hair and kissed her forehead.

“We have to find Raven before the house wakes up.”

“Someone’s got a girlfriend. I’m jealous.”

Scout offered her a small grin. “She must be behind this other door.” He reached for the bar, but Catherine pushed his arm aside.

“Nice try, hotshot,” she said to the door. “Did you really think you had a fifty-fifty chance of getting him to open your door? I’ve been drawing him here ever since I felt his presence outside.”

Heavy thudding shook the bar in its braces. “Your little group won’t leave town alive!”

Catherine grabbed Scout’s hand and tugged. “Let’s go. Chase will eventually breakthrough and come after us.”

Scout asked, “Is he really some kind of demon?”

“Not exactly,” Catherine answered. “Demons have pointy ears and teeth.”

Scout stared in confusion and shook his head. “We need to find Raven, fast.”

Twisted laughter echoed from behind the door.

Catherine frowned and said, “Follow me.”

She led Scout back down to the middle of the hallway and the locked door. Catherine gripped and turned the doorknob, snapping the locking mechanism. She pushed the door inside and Scout moved past her, lighting the way with his candle.

Raven covered her head and screamed, cowering in the corner of another empty room. Scout approached her speaking gently, but her screaming only grew louder and more desperate. Catherine knelt next to her and with one touch to the head, Raven’s frantic cries stalled. After another moment, the girl’s eyes closed, her faced relaxed and she slumped over to the floor.

Catherine said, “You’ll have to carry her.”

Scout scooped Raven up and held her close. He followed Catherine to the stairs, through the kitchen and out to the garage where a black Cadillac Escalade was parked. The bright sunshine washing over the driveway was a welcomed sight.

Scout opened the backdoor of the Escalade. “Climb in before someone spots us,” he told Catherine

Scout lifted Raven’s unconscious body into the backseat and rested her head on Catherine’s lap. He crawled up behind the steering wheel, using the keys he took from Patrick, he cranked the engine over and sped past the two wide-eyed teenagers circling around the side of the house.

“A
re you sure it’s safe to be outside?” Molly asked. She wasn’t exactly thrilled, and a little grossed out, when Jimmy explained what they were about to do.

“No, but I’m sick of being indoors.” Jimmy said. He tested the ground in the backyard with a shovel. “Frozen solid. This isn’t going to be easy.” Jimmy spit into his hands and rubbed them together. He pulled his hat down tight and a giant smile stretched across his face. He drove his foot down hard on the shovel and broke ground.

Molly followed Ginger to the second floor and checked out what it was they were supposed to do. In silence, they viewed the pictures on the dresser and the decomposing couple lying in their bed. They read the note and they cried and they hugged each other.

Carefully they bundled the couple into their blankets and secured them together with rope that Ginger had found. They carried the couple downstairs.

Jimmy tossed the shovel out of the grave he had just completed. He smiled at them before running his sweaty arm across his face, leaving a streak of mud on his cheek.

“It’s not quite six feet, but it’ll do,” he said. “You guys did a nice job wrapping them up like that. I think Jonathan would be pleased.”

Molly exchanged smiles with Ginger. For such a grizzly task, Jimmy’s compliment left Molly satisfied about what they were doing for Jonathan and his Jane.

The sun heated the day from straight overhead, making the world bright. Molly found it odd that she felt happy when everything else going on around them was out of control, and for some strange reason that was okay. She peeled off her sweater, leaving behind her white T-shirt; the day having grown too hot for layers. She enjoyed the warm sun on her skin again. This winter had been the longest one ever, even longer than the winter when everyone died.

“I have an idea,” Ginger said, and ran back inside the house.

Jimmy settled the remains gently into the bottom of the hole, and then reached up so Molly could help him climb out. He grabbed the shovel and began burying the couple together in their grave.

Ginger walked out with her arms full of boards, a hammer, a screwdriver, and a can of paint. She set everything on the wooden deck.

“Can I help?” Molly asked.

Ginger handed her the small can of paint. “Shake that up.”

Molly shook the paint as though it were a birthday present. “Wasn’t that the sign hanging over the bed in the guestroom?”

“Yep,” Ginger said, sawing a board at one end.

Molly watched amazed at how confident Ginger handled the tools. The other girl was always trying something new and that’s what made her so good at everything. Molly wasn’t jealous over Ginger’s many talents any longer, she just felt inspired. Ginger finished sawing off two corners so now the four-foot board had a pointy end.

Molly switched hands and continued shaking. The sound of Jimmy shoveling added a nice steady rhythm. Scoop-plop-scoop-plop-scoop-plop. That and the gentle swooshing of her paint can maraca reminded Molly of “The Little Mermaid” they had watched last month on “Generator Movie Night.” Now all they needed were some singing fish.

Ginger hammered a nail through the sign, attaching it to the board. She pounded in a couple more for a sturdier connection.

“Okay. Now it’s your turn.”

A thrill raced through Molly. “What do I get to do?”

Ginger produced a paintbrush from her back pocket. “You get to paint.”

Molly pried the lid up with the screwdriver. A thick, navy soup waited inside. She dipped the narrow bristles into the can and allowed the excess to drip off.

“What do I paint?”

“Just change that one word to read ‘From,’” Ginger said.

Molly smiled with understanding. She made the changes with careful brush strokes and then sat back, happy with her work.

“Perfect,” Ginger said. “Now we wait a minute and let the sunshine do its job.”

Jimmy scooped on the last load of dirt and started smoothing out the mound with the back of the shovel. When he finished, he leaned the shovel against a tall tree whose limbs were speckled with green buds and grabbed his water bottle. He took a long drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Then he washed the dirt off his hands and face. When he looked up and caught Molly staring, he gave her a little wink. Her cheeks flared with warmth and she tried to think of other things—like Hunter. It wasn’t too difficult.

“Are we ready?” Jimmy asked.

Ginger handed the grave marker to Molly. “You do the honors.”

Molly carried the cross to the head of the burial mound. She pushed down on top, sliding the pointy end into the turned earth.

Jimmy read, “From Our Guest, A Place to Rest.”

“You should keep this.” Ginger handed Jimmy the note that Jonathon had written.

He nodded, read the note aloud for them to share one last time, and pocketed it. “I’m thankful for my time well spent,” Jimmy said.

Ginger followed. “I’m thankful we found this house so we could bury Jonathan and Jane together the way he wanted.”

Molly knew what she was thankful for right away. The old Molly would probably laugh and say she was being a stupid bitch. “I’m thankful for my friends,” Molly said. The old Molly never knew what it meant to have friends, because she never took the time to be one.

Ginger wrapped her soft arms around Molly in a tight embrace. Jimmy joined them and kissed Molly’s forehead.

He said, “Not just friends, Molly…”

“…We’re family now,” Ginger finished.

Molly found it funny, discovering true joy at the foot of a grave. Finally, she felt complete. This was the perfect moment.

“They’re over here. This way,” Catherine’s voice floated over the fence.

“How do you know?” They heard Scout call. He sounded tired and strained.

Catherine opened the gate from the alley and led Scout into the backyard. He carried Raven’s unconscious body in his arms and a large amount of worry in his eyes.

“Because, silly, my friend told me so,” Catherine said.

She headed straight for the tree and hugged the trunk. All the thousands of buds dotting every limb, branch, and twig suddenly unraveled and expanded into a brilliant green canopy that spread its comforting shade over the silent grave. Everyone gasped in shock and awe as Catherine appeared to be listening to something the rest of them were unable to hear.