Текст книги "Dead River"
Автор книги: Cyn Balog
Соавторы: Cyn Balog
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Chapter Twenty-Two
When I reach for the body, Vi makes a move like she’s going to try to topple me again, but I jump back before she can touch me. “Relax. I’m helping you,” I explain. “Let’s pick it up, though. I’ll take the head.”
I slide my arms under it, trying not to look, but the feeling alone is enough to make me want to throw up. This cannot be happening. My hair is already brittle, and the whole back of my jacket is damp, yet pieces are crumbling off, either mud or dried blood. I steal a look at my face; my eyes are closed, but my mouth is slightly open, and I realize that I don’t look dead, merely asleep. I squeeze my eyes shut and hoist the body up to my waist, and Vi does the same. I wondered why, with all her strength, she was having such a hard time dragging my body, but now I know. I weigh a ton. My clothes are probably waterlogged and my hair must be harboring twenty pounds of mud. It smells like wet leaves. I choke and cough and bury my face in my shoulder so I don’t breathe in the smell as we begin to move toward the building. It’s hidden from view, and though I know it’s not far, after ten steps I feel light-headed. But Vi moves on, a determined look on her face, and so I keep going until the red cedar front of the Outfitters is visible among the trees. Vi must see it, too, because she picks up the pace and I struggle to keep up with her.
We break out of the woods, near the service entry to the building. I’m about to say that this looks like a good place to dump the body when a voice calls, “Stop!” I know who it is before I turn. Trey. At once he’s beside me. He doesn’t touch me, just stares at me long and hard. “What in the Sam Hill do you think you’re doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I say, not making eye contact. “We’re leaving the body near the Outfitters. So it can be found.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but he’s so furious that all he does is shake. Finally, he takes a breath and exhales slowly, and a Zenlike calm washes over him. “Kiandra. Didn’t we just … That’s a bad idea, and you know it.”
“Oh, and destroying your entire kingdom is a good idea?” I shoot back, putting the body down so roughly that my shirt gets caught on a branch and rips, exposing the strap of my lacy black bra. By the time I realize how stupid it is, I’ve already reached down and made myself more presentable. Like someone finding my dead body would think, Her bra is showing!
He sighs. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you the whole story,” he mutters, running his hands through his hair. “You’re stubborn.”
“Maybe you can, but I would never be able to live knowing my mistake caused pain for so many people. No way. Sorry,” I say, turning my back on him.
But I can feel his eyes staring through me. “I know what this is about,” he says. “Your momma. You think you got to go against everything she tells you, or else you’re afraid you’ll start forgiving her. Maybe she deserves to be forgiven.”
“Enough with worshipping my mom!” I shout, turning back to him. I want to strangle him. “It’s getting really old.”
He looks down at the ground. “About that … I spent a lot of time doing things I shouldn’t have. That’s why my shine is still strong. Your mom should’ve punished me but she let me go. She saved my hide. So call it pathetic if you will.” He shrugs. “I call it honor.”
“I’m sorry about that,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to call you that.”
He motions me to follow him, and at first I don’t want to leave the body, but I suppose off on this path, not twenty yards from civilization, is a good a place as any. It’s not as if we can parade the body into the front lobby. I rub my hands on my jeans and walk after him, first toward the river, then around, toward the picnic benches outside the Outfitters. It’s busy here. People I’ve never seen before are milling about with serious faces. Some are walking out through the woods. Everyone seems hyperalert. Is this for me?
Trey says to me, very softly, “I know your momma hurt you. If you want to stay mad at her, it’s up to you. You ain’t got to do nothing for her if you don’t want to.”
I’m about to say thank you, to explain that, really, I know I should forgive her, but that I just need time. It’s like spending a decade loving the color blue, only to suddenly realize my favorite color is red—it doesn’t seem real or right to change so soon. But then I notice that he’s staring at something between the trees, something away from the river, toward the road. I follow his gaze and, among the police cars, see a very familiar gray Honda Civic, and that’s when the world stops for me. The first thing I think of is how I spilled chocolate ice cream, speckled with rainbow-colored bits, on the front seat not two hours after he picked the car up from the dealer, and how he laughed and wiped it up and said, “Nice job, Sprinkles.”
My dad.
Trey hitches a thumb toward the man sitting behind the steering wheel, knuckles white. “You can’t undo this decision, Kiandra,” Trey says. “So even if you don’t want to think on your momma, you might want to think on him.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
It’s like the world suddenly shifts, and all the brilliance of this new world fades to darker than the old. In seconds, the allure, the beauty of this place is gone.
I was deluding myself. I’d gotten so good at forcing him out of my mind during the rafting trip—too good. But it’s so easy to commit to something life-altering when you’re not in the presence of the person whose life you’re going to alter the most. And in a blur, every moment I’ve spent with him, no matter how trivial, flashes in front of my eyes, carrying weight it never did before. The same words echo in my ears: You’re my everything. You’re my everything. Suddenly I’m dizzy. Trey notices me losing my balance and props me up before I can slump to the ground, a defeated mass. Just like my father, who, behind the wheel of his Civic, looks so small and alone.
I turn to Vi, but words won’t come out. There’s a crushing, suffocating pain in my chest, like my heart is breaking into a thousand pieces. Finally, something comes, the only thing I can manage. “I’m sorry.”
My dad steps out of the car and he’s wearing his trademark wrinkled tweed blazer and L.L.Bean hiking boots. His hair is sticking up, which is a usual thing in the morning before he showers. He has a stack of flyers in his hands; I can see the word MISSING in bright red on top. There’s a picture underneath and I bet with everything I am that it’s the one of me last Christmas, wearing the Santa hat he always forced on me. I look about ten in the picture, which is why he loved it and put it on his desk at school. I’m sure that in the next half hour, half the trees in Forks will have that picture tacked to their trunks.
I turn to Trey. “What do you want me to do?” I ask, ignoring Vi’s expression. She begins to shake her head, first slowly, then building up momentum.
“We got to get that body in the boat,” Trey says. “We got to take it back.” When Trey reaches for the body, Vi moves to block his way. The way she stares at him, she looks seven feet tall.
I whisper to her, “I can’t leave my dad. I’m sorry. I have to go back.”
Her face, marred with dirt, doesn’t change. She crosses her arms in front of her ruffled dress, and despite the ruffles and lace, she looks fierce, like an ancient warrior. I’m surprised that with her strength and bravery, she could be so afraid of someone like her sister, Lannie. Suddenly I realize something. “That’s what you wanted,” I say to Vi, softly at first. “You become the thing that you wanted most in life. When she held you down in the mud, you wanted to be stronger than her. And you are.”
She just stares at me, her face stone.
“And don’t you see? She was in line to become Mistress. You’re her sister. You’re a member of our family. That means that you have the same powers we do. Right?” I turn to Trey. “We can fight her ourselves. Right?”
Trey laughs. “Whoa, cowboy. You ain’t fighting nobody. Not if you want to get home.”
“Okay, but she can, right? She’s more powerful than Lannie, so …”
Vi is shaking her head vehemently.
I stare at her. “What are you saying? I wish you could talk, already.”
Suddenly she begins to choke. She doubles over, but when she straightens, her mouth is clear. And suddenly I don’t wish it anymore, because the next thing that comes out is a whine. “I am not doing that,” she pouts. “Never ever ever.” Then she realizes what she’s done, and grins for half a second before she sneers at me. “Took you long enough, Miss All-Powerful. I’ve been begging you to do that for only a million years or something.”
I step back. “Wait. What just … Did I do that?”
Vi rolls her eyes and wipes the remaining mud from her chin. “For a Mistress, you’re really not that smart.” She leans against a tree, pouting.
Brat. I almost wish I hadn’t done that. Whatever it is I did, which I don’t know. I stare at my hands. Did I do anything with them? No, I clearly remember them being in the pockets of my jacket. All I’d done was say that I wished she could talk. I turn to Trey, confused. “I just say it, and it happens?”
He shakes his head. “We went over this. You don’t even got to say it. You just got to want it.”
Right. I do remember him saying something like that. I’ve wanted so many things, but I never just got them. I try to think of something, but nothing comes to mind.
She shrugs. “Anyway, don’t ask me to do that. To my sister. I can’t fight her.”
“Don’t give her that, little girl. I seen what you can do,” Trey says to her. Then to me he whispers, “Look, she’s eight. She don’t get things like you and I do. Her sister is the only family she knows. She don’t want to be alone.”
She rolls her eyes. “I can hear every word you’re saying!” she shrieks. “You think you know so much because you’re older than me?” She stares at me. “I’ve been around years longer than you. I know a thing or two.”
“Your sister isn’t nice to you. She killed you,” I say.
She looks from Trey to me and crosses her arms. Her face sours.
“Then why were you trying to hide my body?” I ask.
Trey studies her and says, “Because if her sister becomes Mistress, she ain’t gonna be just her sister.” And it makes sense. If her sister can weaken my mother and become Mistress, then she’ll be busy with other things. Vi won’t have her sister. “You afraid of being on your own, is that it?”
Vi doesn’t answer, so I just shake my head. “Right. Her brain’s still eight.”
Trey shrugs. “That don’t mean nothing. No fun being alone, whatever age you are.” He walks in front of the body and stands there, arms crossed. “We’re taking this body across the river, little girl, whether you like it or not. So scram.”
She stares at him, her nostrils flaring with rage. At first I think she’s going to challenge him. Instead, she turns and runs back down the path.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I say. “She’s going to come back and bring her sister.”
He says, “You forget. This is what they want us to do.” He must realize I’m about to feel guilty again, because he squeezes my hand. “Kiandra. Everything’ll be okay. Now let’s get out of here.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
By the time we get back to the rowboat, the sun, orange and lazy, is sliding down behind the tall pines. Trey’s quiet as he rows across the river. Though we’re facing each other and our knees are only a foot apart, he rows with his head down, never looking at me. I watch the muscles of his arms strain as he rows the boat, which is the only indication he’s working at all. His breath comes slow and steady, and the rowing seems so effortless for him, like he must do it all the time.
Trey exhales and he arches his arms back, and the oars smack against the surface of the water, propelling us forward. “Your boyfriend must be real worried about you.” I can tell the gears in his head are turning, though, because he moves his mouth in about a hundred different ways but no words come out. Finally, he says, “When I was alive I thought I’d have all sorts of time for that kind of thing. Girls, I mean.”
“You didn’t have a girlfriend?” I ask.
“Nah. Not even close.” Trey shrugs. “Thought I’d have the time. But guess we never have as much time as we think we’re going to. Missed out on a lot.”
From the look on his face, a sad, distant longing, it’s obvious he’s thinking of something in particular. “What do you regret the most?”
I think he’s going to say something about his mom. Instead, he gives me a sheepish look. “Well, I ain’t asking for nothing, but I wished I’d kissed a girl.”
I raise my eyebrows. He looks away. I feel heat in my face and he looks over his shoulder, away from me, but I know he’s blushing, too. Talk about awkward. “Is that all?” I finally say.
“Well, maybe if you done it before, ain’t no big deal. But I ain’t, and I had a whole mess of years to think on it. And yeah, it may be a little thing to you, but it’s not when someone’s had that long to think it over.”
“No, I didn’t mean to … I wasn’t making fun of you. I just thought you’d say something else. Something about your mom.”
“Yeah, well. I hate dying in a way that she didn’t know what happened to me, but that wasn’t my doing. But kissing. Hell. I could have done that. I could have kissed the socks off a dozen girls at school. They all gave me looks. I was pretty hot stuff, I should imagine.”
I burst out laughing. “Oh yeah?”
He sticks out his lower lip, then sucks it in. “Well, maybe back then. Maybe girls these days want something else. I don’t know. Girls always kind of befuddled me.”
That word makes me laugh even more. “Befuddled?”
“Yeah. What? That not a word they use these days? Girls are befuddling. With a capital B. It means that one day they like the rain and the next they’re crying about it. They don’t know what they want but they expect you to know it. Be. Fud. Ling.”
“I don’t think girls are befuddling. I think guys are. What’s with the whole wanting-to-be-outdoors-in-subzero-temperatures? Cooking on an open fire? Who wants to be at one with nature? I’d rather not be, thank you very much.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I mean, hunting? Fishing? Gross.”
“You used to fish. You never minded holding them wriggling worm bodies in your hands then. You liked getting mussed up. You used to scrape up the fish scales and put them on your thighs and watch the sun dance on them.”
“Yeah, but I …” “Grew up” is on my tongue, but it doesn’t come out, because suddenly I’m transported to that day I met him, on the river outside my house. I didn’t catch a fish then, didn’t hold one in my hands. Sure, I’d caught plenty before, and I was so angry at him for catching so many and letting them go. But how did he know I liked the mess? How did he know what I did with the scales? “You … watched me?”
“You’re the next Mistress. I’m a guide. Of course I watched you. Up till you left. Then I couldn’t watch you no more.”
“Oh, right,” I say, feeling disappointed, though I’m not sure why.
He laughs a little to himself. “You know, the funny thing was, I had a picture of you in my mind, all this time, of what you would look like grown up. And it was right.”
“That’s … Really?” I wonder what I look like to him. I wonder if he’s disappointed that I don’t like to fish anymore.
“Most days I wondered if I’d ever see you again. Thought you were gone for good. But I’m glad I got the chance to before I …” He looks away. “I’m glad I got the chance to.”
He grips the oars tighter, and I realize that there’s something on his mind. Something he’s not telling me. “Before you what?” I ask.
“Ain’t nothing.” And by the way he says it, I know it’s something. Something big.
By this point we’re at the shore. He jumps out of the boat and pushes it onto land.
I grab his arm. “You have to tell me. You’re sending me back and telling me not to get involved. But I am involved.”
He throws the oars back into the boat. “You’re a Mistress. We protect our Mistresses. End of story.”
“But you said it’s going to weaken my mother if she gives me life. How’s that going to protect her?”
“It would weaken her, yeah. But just as some things weaken her, other things can make her strong again. And I know you don’t get my allegiance to your momma, but I got to do this. For the kingdom.”
I stand there staring at him, uncomprehending. “Do … what, exactly?”
“I’ve been here long enough as it is. I made this decision long time ago. I’m giving her my power. My shine. I got a lot to give, you’ve noticed.”
“But … what? And then what happens to you?”
“I move on. Somewhere else.” He’s silent for a minute, studying me. “Look, Kiandra, I been here too long. And this, it’s a good thing. Something I should’ve done a while ago.”
“But so you’re saying that when I finally do come back here, as Mistress … you won’t be here?”
He raises an eyebrow. “That matter?”
“Well … I mean, yes. I like having a friend here.”
I don’t realize until he shakes it that he’s been extending his hand to me, to help me out of the boat. Even with his support, I stumble awkwardly, my boots sinking up to the laces in mud. Somehow, though Vi, with her unnatural strength, and I had a hard time carrying the body, Trey is able to heft it over his shoulder like it’s nothing. My hair, greenish and greasy, hangs down past his knees, its ends nearly scraping the ground.
I hear footsteps, and my mother is running down the path. “Hurry,” she says. “We have to do this now.”
Sure, Mom, you wouldn’t want to spend one more minute with me than you have to. I step forward and mumble, “Fine. What do I have to do?”
She stands in front of me. “Oh, Kiandra, it isn’t like that. Your father moved you away because he was afraid of losing you. He knew that the river consumed me, and that it called to me, and that I had visions that would wake me up screaming at night. He must have seen the same signs in you, and he couldn’t stand to have it happen to you, too. But what he doesn’t know is that it saved me. Coming here, I knew I could still be with you. You can see visions of us on the river, right?”
“Yes, but—” Suddenly I understand what she’s saying. I cover my mouth with my hand. “You mean …”
“But your father took you away. Now, I don’t blame him, but I wished every day that he hadn’t, and that you would come back to me. What I’m saying is that you don’t have to be alone. If you come to the river, I will find a way to see you.”
Tears spring to my eyes. She puts her hands on my shoulders and leans in to kiss my forehead.
She puts a hand on my forehead, like she used to do to check whether I had a fever. Her skin is clammy and cold, everything I remember. But suddenly I am feeling feverish and dizzy and breathless all at once. The edges of my sight blur and soon all the colors are swirling together, like some child’s finger painting. Then everything dims to a murky black, and all I can feel and hear is the beating of my heart.
Maybe it’s only seconds later that I spring upright, still feeling dizzy as things settle around me. I’m in the boat again. Trey is rowing, his back to me. Black water, topped with yellow foam, is swirling around us. The sky is thick with clouds, as if a storm is threatening. I feel different, but it’s a familiar difference. My heart flutters in my chest. I lift the folds of my jacket and check my stomach. No wound. I know what this is. This is life.
“I’m alive again?” I ask softly.
Trey doesn’t stop rowing.
“Where are we going?”
“Where do you think? I’m rowing you ashore, and you got to get to your daddy and get away from here.” He turns and gives me a hard stare. “Got it?”
“Yes,” I say. “But what about—”
“None of that,” he groans. “You need to get. Don’t worry about the rest.”
“But what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to get back to your mom and give her my shine. That’ll restore some of her power. Otherwise she won’t be strong enough to stop Lannie.”
“But … Oh.” Somehow this tugs at my heart in ways I didn’t think existed. I can’t help but ask, “But then you … I’m never going to see you again, right?”
He rolls his eyes at me. “I told you, quit worrying. There ain’t nothing you can do. This is the way it needs to be. You go on back to that boyfriend of yours.”
“He’s not, anymore,” I mumble. “It’s a long story.”
He pulls the boat ashore and stands, hands on hips, waiting for me. I sit there, stunned. Why do I get to live while everyone else suffers? It seems so unfair. I’m about to tell him this when he speaks.
“You ain’t getting any more alive. Now get.”
I climb out of the boat, feeling strange on my feet, like every step is unsure and my ankles might give out at any moment. I’m cold again, so I wrap my arms around my body. “Thank you,” I say softly, feeling like I should say more, do more. So that is why I open my arms and reach them around him, pulling him into a hug.
After a moment, his body relaxes, and I feel his arms around me, too. It feels nice. I know he needs to be going, but I don’t want to let go. I press the side of my face against his chest, and he must be reading my mind because he says, “Aw, Kiandra, don’t you worry.”
I tilt my head back and he’s looking down at me, trying to smile, but I can see the heaviness in his eyes. So I push myself up on the tips of my toes and press my lips against his. Mine are cold and his are so blazing hot, but it’s not his warmth that makes me cling to him. It’s something else. Maybe it’s that in all my time with Justin I never felt this complete bliss, his body making me feel whole. Trey holds me closer, his lips on mine, and soon everything else is forgotten and we’re lost in each other. Finally, breathless, I pull away from his mouth, and he nibbles along my jaw until he finds my earlobe. “Kiandra,” he whispers, and then he says something that sounds very much like “I love you.”
But before I have a chance to respond, to look into his eyes and see if he really meant it, the world dims. And everything disappears.
