Twenty-two
Vivian wandered the empty house alone for the balance
of the day, not knowing whether to grieve Leon's death or to rejoice. The
silence was deafening. Every few moments her memory would lapse, and she
would imagine she heard Leon's footsteps on the porch.
In time, she grew accustomed to the new reality.
Leon's absence began to penetrate through to her stream of consciousness
and make itself at home. Leon Biggs was dead. The constant tension of
waiting for his arrival home every night had been lifted from her
shoulders forevermore. She felt as if she might rise from the floor and
float away in a delirium of happiness. At the same time, the world
teetered on the brink of catastrophe.
What had killed Leon? Why were the phones and the
radios out?
Vivian went to bed at dusk, too frightened to wander
the dark house alone waiting for Caitlin's return. When she heard the
back door downstairs open and close and the creak of footsteps on the
stairs, she pulled the sheet covering her to her chin. Caitlin's approach
in the dark terrified her as much as the thought of Leon's ghost returning
to haunt her.
The bedroom door creaked open. "It's me," Caitlin
said softly.
Vivian pulled the covers to her chin. "I'm in bed,
child. How can you see in the pitch dark?"
The bedsprings at the foot of the bed creaked with
Caitlin's weight. Despite the hour, Caitlin was wide awake and alert.
The metallic sweetness still clung to her. "I'm sorry about Leon,"
Caitlin said softly. "I wished he would have just left me alone."
Vivian's teeth chattered in fear. "Please tell me
what happened?"
"I didn't do anything, Aunt Vivian. I have a friend,
is all. It protected me."
Vivian couldn't imagine the kind of friend Caitlin
was talking about. She sensed that Caitlin wasn't talking about a man.
"I don't understand what you mean."
"Leon got bit by an animal," Caitlin said.
Vivian went cold with dread. "Oh, I see."
"It's better that he's gone," Caitlin said. "I can't
remember a time when I wasn't afraid of him. And now I'm not afraid
anymore."
Vivian felt it as well. For the first time in as
long as she could remember, the house felt safe and secure.
"Are you angry with me, Aunt Vivian?"
"I'm not angry with you, child. But it's late. You
should be in bed sleeping."
Caitlin laughed. "Oh, Aunt Vivian, I can't sleep."
She bounced to her feet. "I can't stay too long. My friend is waiting
outside."
Vivian bolted upright in bed. "Caitlin, please.
You're all I have left now. Where will you go? What will you do?"
Caitlin sighed hard. "I can't think about those
things right now. Auntie, I just have to go."
Without a sound, she was gone.
"Caitlin?"
Vivian threw the covers back. She hurried
downstairs, feeling her way along the wall, and parted the blinds in the
living room in time to watch Caitlin pause on the highway out front,
burning with a strange energy Vivian had never seen before.
Caitlin picked a dark fur off the front fence and put
it around her neck, just as she had seen her do earlier in the day. This
time, Vivian saw the fur move, and her breath caught in her throat.
Caitlin walked nonchalantly away and vanished from view, undisturbed by
the cold, wet wind blowing in from the northwest.
Isolation closed upon Vivian Kingsley like the jaws
of a vice. Be careful what you pray for that you might be blessed with
your wishes, her mother had once warned her. In the secrecy of her
thoughts, she had prayed more than once for Leon's death. She had yearned
for it almost daily.
She had not expected to lose Caitlin as well. In
leaving the house, Caitlin had emptied it completely. And to be alone was
to be without purpose and to be a plaything of predators, the human kind
of predator, and maybe something new unleashed into the world.
She fled back up the stairs to the safety of her bed
and tried to fight fire with fire by closing her eyes to darkness. Fear,
however, was not a thing to be held at bay by closed eyelids. It fed upon
itself, preying upon her imagination and growing in an ever expanding
cycle into a nightmare of mind-destroying proportions.
Her screams filled the house. Caitlin heard them a
quarter mile away. She paused, but could do nothing to help Aunt Vivian.
As helpless as anyone else in the world, she bowed her head to the wind
and picked up her pace until the awful noise faded away in the roar of
thrashing treetops.
