The Butcher and the Butterfly (14 page)

‘How could he have
known? How could he have known?’ Cathy muttered to the hardpan.
‘How did you know?’

John moved his
hand over to Cathy as if to silence or bring comfort, Stephen was
unsure of which.

‘How did you
know?’ John mirrored as the situation sunk in. ‘Answer her
question, Stephen. You owe us that, at least.’ John watched Stephen
turn the three bodies over onto their bellies and knew that this
was one of the old ways; though John couldn’t remember which
one.

‘I owe you two
nothing. You have broken the laws I was sworn to protect and for
that you shall rot in a cell for the rest of your miserable
lives.’

6

From the other
side of the hill and hidden in darkness Susie sat with her back to
Stephen; her head in her hands and tears rolling down her cheeks.
She struggled to control them. Struggled to stop screaming. She had
watched the man she knew she loved take down three hardened killers
without taking a hit. She had watched Stephen effortlessly move
between them like a ghost; like death, and cutting them down before
they even knew it.

She heard
footsteps coming her way and she pulled herself together. Susie
quickly stood and ran off into the darkness and back toward
Rockfall. The wind was cold against her skin and her eyes stung
with the tears that still poured form them. She couldn’t believe
what Stephen had done. What had she fallen in love with? How could
such a kind man be so ruthless?

Above her, the Old
Lady and her Nine Daughters winked with what looked like starry
laughter.

From his vantage
point Stephen watched Susie run off and on the breeze he could hear
her sobs. He cared little for them. He could hear the mutterings
between Cathy and John and cared little for those too.

He waited there
for some time, in perfect silence until the Sheriff and a few of
his townsfolk showed up. He answered their questions well enough
leaving much to the imagination. Saying that he made them argue
between themselves and taking advantage of the three brothers
whilst they were distracted.

As he went to
leave he heard Cathy scream at the Sheriff for forgiveness. Her
screams were cut short by a slap to the side of her face and
Stephen walked down Hangman’s Hill with a smile upon his mouth. He
looked up to the stars and saw the Old Lady surrounded by her nine
daughters and wandered if his King could see the same stars.

Thank you Stephen
and as promised I shall remain quiet.

And Jonah was good
to his word. He was quiet. But Jonah had other tricks up his
sleeve, deadlier tricks, one that Stephen didn’t know about, ones
that Stephen couldn’t even feel. It was these tricks that would, in
a matter of hours, turn Stephen into the ruthless killer he needed
to be.

7

Stephen walked
back into Rockfall alone. The streets weren’t busy, time had raced
on. The moon was high; halfway through its eternal cycle. It was a
quiet evening, the scent of lavender was carried on the soft
breeze. Somewhere far off he could hear the harsh tones of a banjo
twanging out an odd tango.

As he passed a few
sleeping homes, looking like blackened teeth in a mouth of yellow
gore, his eyes were drawn to a lower window where a candle
flickered brightly. A woman beckoned him over to her. As he
approached Stephen noticed that she was naked, her bare body
dazzled in moonlight and the flickering red of the candlelight. She
was slim, underfed, with a face that was plain, hard and shone
echoes of better days.

‘I heard what you
did, Cowboy.’ She said, her voice low and dull – enticing. There
were two purple lavender orchids tied into her ebony hair. In the
distance a wounded dog yelped its end.

‘News travels
fast.’ He was next to the window now, her sweet scent –wooden and
cherry- filled his nostrils. ‘And you are?’

She smiled, a soft
smile, one that hadn’t seen much light of the many days she had
spent here. ‘An admirer. A woman that knows what a Cowboy needs. A
woman that dreams of dreaming of you.’ She leant out and stroked
his cheek – his stubble sounding like sand paper against marble.
‘The night is young, Cowboy and still full of wonders. You but only
need to reach out a little to grab one. Or three if ya fancy.’

The air was wet
with her voice, the candle light entrancing as it shone on her fake
pearl necklace. His eyes and her eyes met, both wide; full of their
sexual intent. Underneath it all, in the darkness that Jonah swam
in, he smiled a wretched smile.

Stephen spent the
night there and had himself some wonders – three of them.

Just outside,
peeping through the window, Tommy unzipped his trouser and gave
himself a quick wonder before running off into the dark night.

8

In the Travellers,
Susie spent the night in her room, crying at first, and then
remembering how much she loved Stephen and wanted to be with him.
She thought about how she would go out tomorrow, to the small
valley where the lavender grew and pick herself some of the orchids
and decorate her hair for him. All for him. Always it would be for
him no matter what he was or was capable of. What was important was
that she loved him. Loved him.

She fell asleep
with that thought.

Your Lives Are Coming
To An End

1

Electrical
impulses stimulate areas of our brain millions of times a day.
These electrical currents control who we are, what we do and what
we feel. They learn, they remember and they help store things away.
They have the ability to link two completely separate senses
together so that a smell can remind you of a place or an event. In
times past, men could control these electrical currents and
manipulate the wires of the mind so that memories could be wiped
away, new ones made, even changed. Jonah had those gifts. In the
past, men had used this marvel for good, but Jonah did not. Whilst
Stephen slept, a good sleep – a deep sleep – Jonah had set about
his task and rewired parts of Stephens mind. Like an errant child
throwing toy blocks from his cot, Jonah showed little care for what
he was doing and what he was making.

As the sun
breached the horizon and bathed Rockfall in its mighty glory, Jonah
stepped back from his creation his mouth agape.

Wake up, Stephen.
Wake up.

Stephens’s eyes
opened abruptly.

2

He couldn’t
remember what he had dreamt about, why he had awoken with a jolt,
but it mattered not now that he was awake. He pulled back the dirty
bed sheets and gathered his belongings together dressing as he went
about it. He had done this pitiful act many times. This time though
he didn’t have to leave a coin. The room he was in was familiar,
much like all the others - small, fancy for a trick, adorned with
cheap paintings and a beaten mirror. It smelt of sweet lavender and
salty, stale sex.

He grabbed his
boots and eased them on, his feet groaning. He glanced at the
woman. She was not what he remembered. Her skin was pallid, blotchy
and full of scars and lumps and bruises. Her tits, which he was
sure were plump not six hours ago, were flat, like empty water
skins. He rubbed his eyes, hoping that the woman he had seen last
night would reveal herself like a poor magic trick – but she did
not.

Stephen chuckled,
stood and went to leave almost reaching into his pocket but then
remembering not to.

Kill her.

Stephen turned and
drew Jonah.

With your hands,
Stephen.

Stephen
re-holstered the gun and did what he was told. The woman’s eyes
opened as the grip around her neck tightened. As she struggled the
bed creaked and groaned much like it had the night before but this
was a different dance. It wasn’t long before froth appeared from
her wasted mouth. Her eyes were wide, sucking in the light, begging
for him to stop. Her arms flailed wildly like out of control
windmills in a winter’s gale.

Her body heaved up
and down – up and down – up and… and then her eyes closed, her arms
fell and the struggles eased. There was one last struggle for
breath, like a distant sob after a good cry and then she was
gone.

Stephen lifted
away his hands and rubbed them clean on the dead woman’s only dress
as he left.

3

Susie met Tommy
outside of the Travellers and they both headed off to valley
together. The morning was cool and quiet. There were the usual
cackles from the crows, the bleats of sheep and of goats. Dogs
would bark and then yelp as their masters reminded them who was
boss but soon even those were a distant echo as they ventured
further from Rockfall. The two moved in silence which would have
puzzled Susie under different circumstances, but today she didn’t
mind.

She had spent the
night dreaming of Stephen and had awoken with the memories of the
night be fore’s atrocities almost wiped clean. They were there, she
could remember them whenever she wanted, but as love is blind, so
too can be our memories and she would only be reminded of them when
the end was coming.

‘Not too fars now,
Susie.’ Tommy was a few meters ahead and veering down the steep
slope to the valley floor.

‘Yep. Good thing
as well, feels like it is going to be another scorcher.’ Susie
wiped some sweat from her brow and took in a deep breath. The air
was stale, much like it always was but there was something else –
hidden beneath the stink – another scent, like decaying flesh or
the smell of a dead dog. She swallowed and spat, trying to rid
herself of the stink but it wouldn’t go. She reached the top of the
rise the Wastelands stretching as far as the eye could see - the
sky a massive blue sheet of glass, the ground a wash of yellow and
white with the occasional speck of bush or cactus breaking up the
monotony. She stepped cautiously from the hardpan to the loose soil
of the steep slope and headed down to where Tommy stood at the
bottom. It wasn’t far, perhaps fifty feet but the sheerness of the
fall made it treacherous.

But the orchids
would be worth it. Keeping her feet sideways on Susie clambered
down, sometimes skidding on the loose soil. She looked up from time
to time, making sure she was headed in the right direction and that
Tommy was still there. Her legs were beginning to tire and the
sweat was running into her eyes.

She glanced down
to see how far she had to go, the sun hindering her vision. Holding
up her hand to shield her eyes from the yellow glare she a black
garbed figure raced from a stack of rocks over to where Tommy stood
unaware of what was heading his way. Whatever it was moved fast and
seemed to be holding some kind of weapon.

She leant forward
to hurry her climb and as she was about to shout her concerns to
the young man, the ground beneath her feet crumbled and she went
tumbling down – floor to sky floor to sky floor to sky. Over and
over again she went grunting as her body hit the deck. Her legs and
arms banged against rocks, her back grazed upon needle bush. At
some point she thought that eventually she would pass out or crack
her head against a blade rock and that would be that. Dust flew up
her nose and she began to believe that this tumble would never come
to an end.

Finally, with one
last deep thud to the side she hit the valley floor and Susie
screamed, coughed and cried as she expected the worse.

As the dust
settled, matching the muddle of her mind, she eased her breathing
and waited for the agony of broken bones to set in - but it didn’t.
She hurt, really hurt but everything felt intact and attached.
Slowly, she knelt on all fours and spat out a wad of dusty phlegm.
Her side hurt something rotten and she could taste blood. Her head
was still spinning and she felt sick but Susie couldn’t help but
feel amazed. Amazed and lucky.

An image of the
garbed figure running at Tommy flashed before her eyes.

She was still
knelt on all fours like a dog when a rough pair of boots stood
between her dirty cut and bloodied hands.

‘Christ, Tommy,’
Susie gasped, ‘that was fucking close.’

There was no
response. But that smell had come back, only this time a thousand
times worse. It filled her nose and the air grew heavy. She found
it hard to breath and slowly Susie tilted her head up to see what
was in front of her. What was causing the smell?

‘Patience…’

And then the world
went black.

4

It had been a
struggle, well for Tommy anyway, and taken longer than had been
anticipated but finally Susie was propped up in an old wooden chair
her hands and feet bound to the chair – naked. Tommy had been told
to wait outside for the time being and much like the night before;
he peered through gaps in a window only this time his cock was kept
in his pants.

Patience went
about her business mumbling and grumbling as she waddled about her
home. What Patience had to do to Susie was probably best done when
the girl was out of it, but Patience didn’t want that. She wanted
Susie to be looking her in the eyes as she did the deed and then
found out the truth. Giggling to herself Patience scratched at her
scabby scalp and kicked out at an errant rat as it darted from one
hole to the next.

In preparation for
today she had opened the main kitchen window and the sunlight burst
through highlighting the filth that Stephen had only previously
glanced. Years of clutter and waste were piled high. Paintings hung
crooked, wet and decayed - their original imagery lost to time.
Alabaster white bones were strewn across the floor, some were
bestial others human like. Her tatty dress would make waves in the
dust only for it to settle and the floor lost once again. The
dappled sunlight tried to shine on glass jars but their age and
tattiness made it impossible. A leak from the old boiler room in
the roof above the kitchen sent a constant trickle of water down
the wall near the sink and green moss grew from its edges. In fact,
on closer inspection, though you wouldn’t want to get that close,
the walls were alive with a green best left alone in our darkest
nightmares.