Scratch, page 23
“The dining room, I guess.”
“Where is it?”
“In the back of the house, off the kitchen,” Shelley said. “Listen, Billy, I think I changed my mind…”
“About going with me when I leave?”
“No,” she said. “I want to go with you, just not to dinner. I don’t want to see my family. They’ll… try to talk me out of it. Are you going to be long?”
“Not if I can help it,” Billy said. “If they’re in the dining room, will they see me if I just walk in the front door?”
“No. Why?”
“I want to surprise them.”
“Do you mind if I wait here?” she asked. “You can have dinner, but I don’t want them to see me.”
“That’s exactly what I have in mind,” he said. “You wait here. I’ll be right back.” Billy opened the car door and got out into the rain. Shelley turned to look at the house. She didn’t see Billy reach under the drivers seat and pull out Carol’s kitchen knife. The door shut softly and Shelley watched as he crept up the hill. When he got to the porch she crouched low in her seat and took a deep breath.
Just a little while longer, she thought. Then I’ll be gone from here.
And what is that smell?
* * * * *
Billy held the knife against the side of his leg as he made his way up the yard. His feet were wet and a couple of times he felt them start to slide under him. He walked up the porch steps, wincing when the old boards squeaked under his feet. He moved quickly to the wall of the house next to the door. He wiped an arm across his brow, smearing the rain and sweat. Water banged on the roof of the porch like a million tiny drums. There was another low rumble of thunder over the hills. He leaned to the side and cautiously peered through the window in the door. He saw nothing except an empty hallway and a set of steps.
And Holly’s damn angel paintings everywhere.
He tried the doorknob with a wet hand and it turned freely. He slowly pushed the door open and stepped into the house. Water dripped from the knife blade onto the hardwood floor. He pushed the door until it was almost closed, making sure it didn’t latch. He might have to make a sudden exit.
He heard voices from the back of the house, and the distinctive clatter of silverware and china. Music played low, a classical piece he recognized but couldn’t name.
“I don’t want carrots,” came Michaela’s voice over the din, and he smiled. He would never make her eat carrots when she was his.
And she would be his soon.
He knew he couldn’t just rush into the dining room. There were too many people. Maybe he should have waited, killed Adam and Holly in their sleep and spirited Michaela away. Not as much fun, but quicker.
It was a big house. He could hide somewhere until all the guests were gone. Except, they would see his car and Shelley, so that wouldn’t work.
He was still weighing options when he heard footsteps running down the hall. He stepped back into the shadows of the sitting room, his heart pounding with adrenaline and fear. Michaela appeared, clutching a stuffed bear in one hand. Another little girl was with her. Both of them had the residue of half-eaten dinners on their cheeks. Billy watched as the girls ran up the steps, giggling and playful. He waited after they disappeared until he was sure no adults were following. Then, leisurely, followed them up the stairs.
* * * * *
Scratch sat in the car with Shelley. The budding guilt of running away, coupled with her nerves, was a meager meal for him, but that was not why he was here. She had unwittingly opened the gate to his freedom. Just a crack, yes, not enough to be completely free yet, but she had turned the key. He felt grateful, and more powerful than he had in decades. He caressed her thoughts, bathed in her fears, and gathered them about himself like strings that he could pull.
In spite of the rain the night was warm. Shelley huddled in her seat in the humid interior of the car, trying to make herself small in case someone looked out. She rolled her window down an inch to get some fresh air, but the smell of rotten meat still hung in the air. She looked around inside the car to see if Billy had left part of sandwich or some KFC that had begun to spoil, but she found nothing. She wondered if there were groceries in the trunk. Maybe he had forgotten about some hamburger or something.
Do something, Shelley, Scratch whispered. Do something about the smell.
She wrinkled her nose. Her nerves were making her a little queasy anyway, but the added stench was going to make her ill.
Look in the trunk, Scratch said. It will make you feel better. Get rid of the smell.
Billy had left the keys in the ignition. She wanted to do something, get rid of the odor, but she also wanted Billy to trust her. She turned away from the keys and looked out the window again.
I said to look in the trunk! Scratch said again. He tugged on the strings of her mind and felt her head turn in response. Scratch saw the keys through her eyes. He tugged again. It was difficult, but he was determined. With a surge of will he lifted Shelley’s hand toward the keys.
She pulled them out and put her hand on the door latch. It felt impulsive, and somehow out of her control, but if she was going to wait here she had to do something about the smell. She looked up the hill at the house to make sure no one was looking and then opened the car door.
Shelley pulled the hood of her jacket over her head and stepped out into the rain. She walked around to the back of the car, mud soaking her sneakers. If she could find whatever was making the smell she could just toss it over the hill into the woods behind the barn. Something would eat it. She chose a key and tried to stick it in the latch.
Scratch rode with her, no longer controlling her actions. Once he had set her in motion she would continue.
“Shit,” she muttered when the key didn’t fit. She held the key ring up to get a better look and chose another. This one slid right in. The key turned, the lock clicked, and water slid down the waxed metal of the trunk as it opened.
Shelley stepped backwards and screamed as the tiny trunk light illuminated the bloody remains of Suede.
* * * * *
Billy tiptoed until he reached the hallway at the top of the stairs. He could hear Michaela and the other child laughing in a room at the other end. He crept slowly, careful not to make a sound, pausing whenever a floorboard creaked, listening for any noise that would warn him that someone was coming.
He peered into an open door and saw that it was Michaela’s room. Toys were scattered around the floor, though it was obvious that Holly had cleaned and straightened before guests arrived. His eyes settled on the painting above the bed. Adam’s face, on the body of a guardian angel, stared back at him.
Billy began to shake, his calm determination replaced by a red rage. His hand tightened around the handle of the knife. He turned and looked down the hallway toward the room where his daughter played, then turned back to her bedroom and stepped inside. He walked to the bed, all of his attention focused on the painting. The room around him was an indistinct haze. He lifted the painting from its hook and laid it across the bed. He saw Holly’s signature, and below it, in a small hand-lettered script, was the painting’s title: “Michaela’s Guardian.”
Calmly Billy placed the point of the knife on the angel’s chest and plunged it through the canvas.
Michaela screamed.
She stood in the doorway of the room, pale and beautiful, stuffed bear clutched in her hand. Tears slid down her cheeks. Terror of the Big Bad Wolf of her nightmares rooted her to the spot. Stephanie stood behind her, and though she was unsure of what was happening, her tears joined those of her friends.
Billy jumped, the guilt of being caught constricting his throat. There was no time left for planning. Michaela had sounded a warning and there was a house full of people. He had to act now.
He raced across the room and picked Michaela up under one arm. Stephanie ran away and started down the steps with Billy right behind her. She was slow, too slow for him. A woman he didn’t recognize stepped into the downstairs hallway, and Billy heard others close behind. Michaela screamed in his ear.
Billy surged forward and shoved Stephanie out of his way. She tripped and tumbled down the steps, banging her head against the wooden dowels as she fell. Blood spurted from her forehead and the unknown woman in the hallway screamed. Billy swung the knife at her as he ran past, missing her face by a fraction, then he was out the door and pounding down the steps into the rain.
“Damn!” he screamed. This was not what he wanted. This was a repeat of his botched attempt to grab her in Pittsburgh. He was running again, and as his feet slipped in the mud of the steep yard he heard the house door slam open and Adam’s voice yelling for him to stop. He didn’t want to run, but there were too many people here. He was on the defensive again, instead of in control. If he could make it to the car he might have a chance. He could use Shelley as a hostage to ensure his escape.
Then he heard her screaming over top of the child in his arms. He hit the mud road with a jar and saw Shelley standing by his open trunk. Her eyes were wide with shock and there was vomit on her blouse.
“Stupid bitch!” he yelled, then realized he didn’t have time for this. “Give me the keys!” he screamed as water ran down his face. Michaela squirmed and kicked in his arms. She hit him repeatedly with the stuffed bear.
Shelley stood still, shock and revulsion warring for prominence in her head. She barely understood what Billy had said, but then saw Mike in his arms, struggling to be free. Her gorge began to rise again, but she forced it down. Billy took a step toward her and held his hand out expectantly. Shelley saw Adam running down the yard. April and Raz, along with Jack, were just stepping onto the porch.
She pulled the keys out of the trunk and threw them as hard as she could into the woods.
The disbelief on Billy’s face was quickly replaced by a screech of rage. He lifted the knife and took a step toward her.
Then Adam reached the road.
* * * * *
Holly had just suggested dessert when they heard Michaela scream. It took a second for them to register that her cry was one of genuine distress and not just another playful shriek. Abigail was closest to the dining room door and was the first to get up. Adam heard heavy steps running down the stairs, then the thumping of someone falling. Abby screamed in fear and Adam rushed into the hallway, pushing Ed and Raz out of his way.
He saw the back of Billy’s head as he ran out the front door.
“Sonofabitch!” he yelled. He saw Stephanie lying very still at the foot of the steps, cradled in Abby’s arms.
“Adam!” Holly screamed.
“I know,” he said. “Help Abby. I’ll get that bastard.” He turned and rushed out the door. He saw Billy was nearly at the road already and leapt over the steps into the yard.
He hit hard and his feet nearly went out front under him. He threw his arms out and regained his balance. A scream of primal fury echoed up his throat from the deepest parts of his soul. This was it, it was over, and Adam was going to stop Billy from threatening his family once and for all.
No matter what sacrifice had to be made.
He saw Shelley throw something, and didn’t even have time to wonder what was happening or why she was here. His feet hit the road and mud splashed up his legs like thick blood.
Billy turned and Adam saw the knife blade gleaming dully in the gloom. Michaela’s voice was turning ragged from her screams. He reached forward to grab her away from Billy and saw the knife swing forward.
There wasn’t pain at first, just disbelief and shock. Adam saw the little finger from his right hand fly away from him in a spurting arc. It landed in a thick clot of mud and disappeared from view. Adam looked at his damaged hand, unable to accept the bleeding nothingness where his finger had been. He clasped it with his other hand as the pain shot up his arm. The blood, thinned by the rain, poured through his fingers and onto the road.
He looked up and saw Billy’s cold smile as he stepped forward and plunged the knife. It cut through Adam’s shirt and slid into his stomach, slicing the skin and parting the muscles as it pierced his gut and angled upward.
Billy saw the look of shock on Adam’s face and felt the weight of his body sag on the knife in his hand. It had been so easy. Just like cutting the painting, only far more satisfying. He pulled the knife back. Adam fell to his knees in the mud and then collapsed onto his side.
Billy’s sense of elation and triumph was short lived. More people were running down the yard toward him. He had get away.
Adam felt the cool mud on his suddenly feverish face. His hand ached, but it was dull and inconsequential compared to the fire in his belly. His vision blurred and he heard Michaela, or was it Holly, screaming his name. Billy was a silhouette above him. He thought he saw Shelley reach for Michaela, but Billy struck out with the knife again and Shelley recoiled. Billy ran and Adam tried to put an arm out to stop him, but his body didn’t respond. Billy leapt over him and something fell into the road in front of Adam, splashing water and grit on his face.
He tried to focus, and gradually the blurry images resolved. The small black bead eyes of Buggly stared into his own.
Then darkness climbed out of his pit of pain and washed over him.
PART THREE
DEEP in the WOODS
CHAPTER ONE
Adam clung to the side of the great tree of his dream. The vibration against his back, the great heart song of the world, grew weak and dim. There was agony in his side and a wound had opened in his stomach. Rust-colored water poured out of the gash and ran down his body. It bled onto the trunk, over the rough bark and down to the deep roots, watering the tree with Adam’s pain.
Great clouds gathered among the infinite branches above his head. Adam saw the beings of light leaping between the boughs like lightning, leaving glowing embers behind upon the leaves. Thunder, the voice of God speaking a language Adam would never comprehend, reverberated down the tree. Leaves, shaken loose by the tumult, glided on the winds and fell toward the earth.
Adam looked down and saw the world had grown dark. The fires of hope were dim and sparse. The Deep Woods had grown, choking the world with its shadowy depths.
Down there, in the Deep Woods, Michaela needed him. She was afraid, and in danger, and all alone. She needed him, whatever his pain, and he needed to go to her.
Adam took one last look above him where Heaven waited, and then relaxed his grip on the tree and spread his arms. He plummeted like rain back toward the earth. The wind lifted his hair and cooled his wounds as he fell. It roared in his ears. As the ground swept up to meet him he felt a sense of freedom. It wasn’t the freedom of flying that Holly sought, for he had no wings. He felt the simple freedom of letting go, of accepting whatever fate awaited him, knowing that this leap, this fall, would take him wherever he was meant to be.
He passed through the treetops and plunged into a pool of clear, cool water. He instinctively arced his back and swam back to the surface. His face broke through and he gulped air into his lungs. He struggled to stand and clumsily made his way to shore.
The dream man stood at the edge of the pool. Grease and soot smeared his body. The necklace of bear claws rattled hollowly when he moved.
“Your path has led you here?” he asked.
“Yes,” Adam replied. He grasped the single bear claw that dangled around his neck.
“Do you know where you are?” the dream man asked.
“No.”
“Look at your hands.”
Adam held his hands in front of him. The spirals he had seen before were gone, replaced by a single spot of blue, glowing and pulsating in his palms.
“I’m at the center of the spiral?” Adam asked.
The dream man nodded.
“Now what?” Adam said.
“Do you wish to go around again,” the dream asked, “or do you wish to go on?”
“Michaela needs me.”
“You wish to help your cub?”
“Yes.”
“Then you must enter the Deep Woods.”
Adam started to respond, but the dream man began to change. He grew larger and black hair sprouted from his body as he changed into the bear that Adam had seen before. The necklace of claws shimmered and changed, becoming a string of human fingers. Before Adam could react the bear lunged forward. He clawed Adam in the side and knocked him to the ground. Adam screamed as the bear pounced on him. Saliva flew from its open jaws as it roared and hot wet breath misted Adam’s face. He threw an arm up to protect himself and felt the bear bite down on his hand and rip off his little finger. The teeth clamped on his throat and tore at his flesh.
Adam felt himself being torn piece-by-piece and swallowed by the bear. At the same time, he was the bear, ripping and chewing, and when there was nothing left to consume he stood by the clear lake, whole and healed, except for the little finger, which was still gone.
He turned to face the woods and the dream man stood before him, holding the finger in his hand. He smiled, then tied the finger to the necklace around his throat.
“A sacrifice?” Adam asked.
“You leave a piece of yourself behind wherever you go,” the dream man said. He stepped aside and motioned to a small path that led into the Deep Woods.
“Be careful,” he said as Adam stepped by him. “A wolf awaits.” Adam nodded. He had to do this alone. He took a deep breath and stepped on the path.
The trees closed above him, blocking out the sky, but the spirals on his arms told him where he had to go. In front of him he saw a pale blue light, and he thought he could hear a voice.
“Adam!”
It sounded like Holly, and he plunged on through the darkness to reach her, and still she called his name…
CHAPTER TWO
“Adam!” Holly cried, cradling his body against her own. His breathing was shallow and thick black blood oozed out of his mouth and mingled with his beard. His eyes were showing white against his mud-covered face.
