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Chapter Fourteen
Dark. Night, maybe? A room with no light seemed a possibility...but no, no, she had a sense of being out in the open...
And it was uncommonly cold. Too cold for it to be indoors. A breeze brushed her cheeks and she deeply breathed in the fresh air. She heard...water. Wavers lapping at a shore, smacking rocks. The ground beneath her, however, was hard, even, and solid--not a beach, not natural ground.
Focusing her thoughts, her feelings next, she dug through the tangle of emotions and grabbed one thread to start.
Desire. Her skin flushed and body tingled with heat. She...wanted. Craved. This wasn't normal desire. It seemed heightened and stronger. She felt the overwhelming need to...to consume.
Onto a new thread now. Pain. Screams. Flesh tearing from bone. She sought the old thread but it was lost to her--she was lost, abandoned to the mess of terror...
Merri opened her eyes.
Sweat dripped from her forehead, her heart hammered in her chest, and all her limbs trembled.
She rose from her couch and went straight for the bathroom, where she splashed cold water on her face. Several minutes of deep breathing later, she felt her nerves ease considerably.
The same vision had been plaguing her thoughts recently. Since that day at Thad's in November when she'd had a brief flash, every few weeks it would invade her dreams again, or disrupt her during her day...
Three months later, however, the visions had grown more and more frequent. She was done ignoring them; it seemed the only way to deal was to face them head on.
She crossed her apartment and grabbed a can of Pepsi from the fridge. After an episode like the one she'd just experienced, a rush of sugar usually made her feel better.
Her phone rang from where she'd left it on the coffee table. The bit of extra cash from tutoring Peyton for two months gave her enough to pick up a cheap cell phone and supply of phone cards. The money Lexie sent still paid for rent and the few utilities rent didn't cover. If she got another tutoring job, maybe she actually afford something above basic cable.
"Hello?" she said as she answered.
"You ready yet?"
Merri swung around to glance at the clock on the microwave. She'd lost an hour. Shit.
"Will be shortly."
"I could swing around and get Gen and Peyton first to give you more time?" Thad suggested.
"That would be appreciated."
"Okay, but this means I'll be in the car alone with your hot lesbian friends. I may be awhile if I can coax them to pose for the camera."
"I won't be waiting out front, then. See you soon."
Merri slipped into a new pair of jeans and a dressy shirt, both of which she had shoplifted on separate occasions. Going out with Thad had its drawbacks: mainly that she couldn't shop solely at the Salvation Army Thrift Store as much. She did tend to eat better than the no-name instant dinners she was used to, however, so it seemed a fair trade off.
Twenty-five minutes after he called, Thad pulled up at the building where he thought she lived, and Merri waited for him out front.
Once she'd slipped into the car, Thad leaned over and kissed her cheek.
"That was a quick photo shoot," Merri remarked dryly.
Thad held up his camera phone to show her a grainy picture of Genevieve and Peyton in the back kissing. Merri cast a glance back at them and they giggled in response.
"He asked nicely," Gen replied with a grin.
"I'll bet."
The girls held hands in the back, whispering and laughing about something. They looked happy and Merri was glad of it, for Gen's sake.
"Levi's going to meet us there, by the way," Gen said.
"With Kourtnee?"
"No, thank god. I think they had a fight. Probably 'cause she's a skank."
"She's not a skank," Peyton said.
"She might as well be. Present company excluded, but why are all the guys we know dating skanks?"
"Uh, think about that question for a sec, Gen," Thad pointed out.
"Who else do we know dating a skank?" Peyton asked.
"Oh, possibly Michael, though I don't know if whatever they're doing can really be called dating."
Merri rolled her eyes. Michael would kill Gen if he knew how often she casually reference things around Peyton that she really shouldn't be referencing.
"Who?" Peyton asked.
"He's a friend of mine," Thad said quickly.
"Yeah, he's seeing this real witch," Gen added.
God, she's going to get herself into trouble one of these days...
"So I guess with Levi coming alone, Sage wouldn't have been a fifth wheel?" Merri said, changing the subject. "She might have come along."
"I don't think she wanted to," Gen replied. "She's been real quiet the past...well, forever."
Merri had noticed a difference in her as well, as if she were even more melancholy. But she seemed to have accepted something, as if she were content in her sadness and grief.
Still, Gen had tried to get her to go out with them. It was a Saturday, just a few days before Valentine's Day and almost two weeks before Genevieve's birthday. Thad knew a place outside of town that had great Italian food, and though Merri originally proposed a double date, Gen had wanted to bring Levi as well. Merri pointed out that would mean Kourtnee too, but Gen grudgingly invited him anyway. Sage flat out refused to go, however.
Thad stopped the car in the parking lot and the group got out.
"I'm going to have a quick smoke," Merri said. "Meet you inside?"
Thad looked as though he was about to say something--her smoking bugged him, she knew--but instead he nodded.
A man stood outside the restaurant as well, cigarette poised between his lips and newspaper in hand. He offered her a light when she withdrew a pack of smokes from her pocket, but she declined. He might be just acting polite, but Merri always found the act insulting, as if men assumed either she was incapable of lighting her own cigarette, or they thought her stupid enough to be travelling with smokes but no way to light them.
Though attempting to mind her own business, the front of the newspaper caught her eye.
Body found at local motel.
The touch of dread coating her stomach after her earlier vision seemed to thicken.
"Hey, you done with the front page?" she asked.
The man shrugged and handed her the outside page.
She scanned the article for the pertinent details: a motel on the water, young male found dead, killed sometime during the night...
Near the end of the article, the reporter mentioned the deaths of Warren Humber, Hayden Greene, and another guy Merri hadn't heard about. Though the article didn't say the deaths were connected, a police officer was quoted as saying the murder rate in the general area had been strangely high as of late.
Hayden, of course, had nothing to do with it, but the others did seem strange. The next page continued on, suggesting perhaps the increased homicides were a greater trend trickling in from Toronto.
Something felt wrong, however. Excluding Hayden, all the other murders took place near the same stretch of road, all young men, and no one had any suspects. It had to be connected to her dreams and visions.
She stomped out her cigarette, but didn't go inside quite yet. Instead, she pulled out her phone and dialled Michael's cell phone number. Luckily, he picked up.
"I need to talk to you," she said.
"What about?"
"Did you see today's paper? The Newhaven Daily?"
"You really think I follow stories about local craft fairs and little league tournaments?"
"I'm serious--there's...look, I don't want to do this over the phone. I'm on a double date right now, but I'll drop by when we're done--"
"I won't be home."
Damn him. "This is important."
Silence followed for a moment. "I'm on the road right now. If I'm going in your direction, I'll stop there briefly. Where are you?"
She gave him the address of the restaurant, but not before warning him not to disrupt their dinner. There was no sense worrying the others, and it would probably be best if Peyton and Levi didn't see Michael.
He told her he'd be there in twenty minutes, so Merri returned to the restaurant--with the newspaper article folded in her pocket--and found Thad's table easily. Gen, Peyton, and Levi were crowded into one side of the booth, while Thad and Merri had the other.
Gen nattered on about something, though Merri wasn't really listening. Her eyes strayed around the restaurant, glancing out windows and checking out the patrons around them. She almost expected Michael not to show up at all and tell her later she had been stupid for bothering him in the first place. But as her waiting neared the half hour mark and the plates of hot Italian food arrived, a glance at the bar showed a familiar profile.
Though Merri tried to excuse herself from the table to meet with him, Gen insisted on accompanying her, so Merri pretended to have to hit the washroom. No one would buy another smoke break so soon.
"This was such a good idea to go out tonight," Gen said as they stopped at the bathroom sinks. She hopped onto the counter and swung her long legs back and forth. "I thought for sure my mom would have some lame ass party idea, so I didn't bother planning anything, but I'm pretty sure she's not going to bother."
"Your birthday's still two weeks away," Merri said, playing with her hair and pretending to seem as if she actually had anything to be doing in there. "It could just be a surprise."
"I don't think so. My mom buys shit like party supplies way in advance. I already found where she stashed my present and there aren't any party favours in there. I was just going to whine that I didn't want a party anyway--not after last year's winter hell known as my sweet sixteen party--but she could have at least made an effort. I'm glad I got to go out with you guys anyway and that Peyton's evil mother let her out for an evening. Did I tell you she's the devil?"
"Several times," Merri replied.
"Yeah, well, she's awful. And I think she hates me. She doesn't want Peyton drinking, so she won't let her go out to anyone's birthday party if it's at a home. 'Cause apparently sleepovers equal Jello Shooters and body shots or something in her warped brain."
"So she hasn't told her mother yet about the two of you?"
Gen's gaze dropped. "No. Not yet. I mean, it's no big deal and all. Her parents are a little nutty, though, so she can't tell them, but she doesn't mind being open around you guys, so it's okay."
Merri had noted when she came to the table that for some reason Levi was sitting between Gen and Peyton, so she wasn't certain Peyton really was that "open" as Gen seemed to hope, but it seemed far too hurtful to point that out while they were supposed to be celebrating. Meredith kept her silence, though vowed to sit down with Gen and speak to her about it at some point.
"Ready to go back? I don't want the tortellini to get cold."
At least here was hopefully a moment to slip away. "You go on ahead." She faked a weak smile and wrapped her arms around her stomach. "I'm actually not feeling very well--I just want to splash some water on my face and sit here where it's quiet for a second."
"Are you all right?" Gen asked immediately with concern. "We can go home or--"
Dammit, I don't want her to think I'm sick for her birthday dinner. "No, no, I'm fine. It's just a cold, but sometimes all the screaming kids out there get to me."
"I'll order you some ginger ale," Gen promised before leaving. Merri held the bathroom door open a crack and watched her disappear in the direction of the booth. Now she just had to slip out and get over to the bar.
Thankfully, the restaurant was considered to be a "family friendly" one, and the bar lay in a completely separate section from the dining area. Merri ducked out of view of her own table and made her way around to the bar where Michael sat sipping a beer. She slid onto the barstool next to his.
The bartender immediately looked her way. "I'm not serving you."
"And I didn't fucking ask you to, now did I?" she snapped. He visibly backed off, so she and Michael were left with a bit of privacy.
"This had better be good," Michael said as he turned to her.
Merri pulled out the newspaper article folded in her pocket and handed it to him. He scanned the article, then passed it back to her.
"So?"
Of course he wouldn't see the connection. "So something's going on. Young men don't just randomly get murdered."
"Apparently they do."
"Look, I've been having...visions or something about this. That tells me we should be looking into it."
"Christ, you're as paranoid as Genevieve."
"She brought this up too?"
"Back when the kid died at the club the night you were there." He continued to sip his beer as if nothing was wrong and the reaction--or lack thereof--annoyed her.
"And you don't think this is important?"
"Had the other two died at the same location one of you had just visited, then maybe. But this," he gestured at the paper, "is nothing."
"And the fact that I keep having visions...?"
"Read the article again. It says, several times, that there is very little crime in this general area, let alone homicide. You've only lived here for what, six months or so? Logically, you'd probably have visions of some of the only crime occurring here."
"And how does that change the fact that it looks like a serial killer? That this is all connected?"
"It doesn't. The police can handle it."
"And what a fine job they're doing," she snapped.
Michael sighed and set down his glass, as if annoyed he had to patiently explain something simple to a stupid child. "You aren't a superhero. Neither is Sage or Gen. The three of you aren't heading off to stop killers or monsters and rescuing civilians. Your job is to stay alive, not play Scooby-Do."
"But--"
"But nothing. I'm not having any of you risking your lives for something that doesn't even concern you. If visions are bothering you, we'll work at blocking them."
"And what if this isn't something the police can handle?"
"For example?"
"The..." She had to check herself and ensure she didn't use 'The Brethren' to describe the assassins from before, as Michael still didn't know she and the others had found out about them. "The people who came after us before. That wasn't the kind of situation where we could just let the police handle it when they came after Hayden."
"That was different. They were directly threatening your lives. Now, by all means, should you encounter some proof--while not doing anything at all that could conceivably endanger your life--that this serial killer is going to come after you, by all means let me know and we can gang up on him and kill him. Until then, I'm not worrying about it."
There seemed no use bringing up the "innocent lives" thing, as Michael clearly didn't give a damn about any of that, so Merri bit her tongue. Annoyed, she stuffed the article back in her pocket and stood to leave the bar.
She froze as her eyes met those of Genevieve, who stood in the archway.
Fuck.
Merri quickly moved to meet her and though Gen opened her mouth to speak, she silenced her by raising her hand.
"I just had to talk to him about something," she explained.
"So you're sneaking off--"
"I didn't think I should invite him to sit with us in case Peyton had questions, and then there's the matter of Levi thinking Michael is your creepy stalker whom he had chased off months ago."
"Fine, but you couldn't have met him later?"
"He said he wouldn't be home."
"Ah, right--he and Finn are probably off being man-whores or something. I like Finn and all, so I'm guessing Michael's just a bad influence on him."
Merri was pretty sure at least Michael wasn't whoring with anyone but that witch still, but she didn't say anything.
"So you had to drag him here to ruin our night?" Gen continued.
"I didn't want to ruin anyone's night, which is why I snuck over here to meet him. And with any luck, he's leaving, so no worries."
"So why'd you invite him here?"
Damn, she was hoping Gen might have forgotten that she hadn't actually answered that question yet.
"I wasn't really lying when I said I wasn't feeling well," Merri said quickly, making it up as she went along. "I had a vision and it kind of weirded me out. I'm supposed to call Michael when it happens, and I guess he wasn't that far from the restaurant."
"You two were arguing."
"Um, yeah--have you met Michael before?"
"Good point. Well, come on--Thad was asking for you."
She could have just told Gen the truth; it would have been simple, and Gen would undoubtedly be on her side about it. But at the same time, she had to agree with Michael. So what if there was a serial killer? Were they really supposed to go and stop him? Not everyone could be saved, and she knew that was probably something Gen wouldn't understand. She'd want to help, want to do something to stop people from being killed. And if they foolishly ran off like a regular Scooby-Gang to save the day, Merri would never forgive herself if something happened to Gen--or Sage, for that matter. It would be better to just ignore all of this for the time being, and should any future visions reveal something more--something that could be of use--then she would go to Michael then and demand he help her do something about it.
Thad drove Peyton home first, then Gen, then swung around towards Merri's apartment--or at least the building he thought was hers. She expected a few heated moments and then a goodbye, so it surprised her when he cut the engine and turned her way.
"What was up with Michael tonight at the restaurant?"
Jesus Christ, she was getting bad at keeping secrets from people.
"I guess I suck at having secret meetings with people. Did Gen tell you?"
"I told her. I saw the two of you at the bar, and then asked her if you were done in the bathroom yet."
"I just had to talk to him about some things. Seer things. He happened to be in the area. Okay?"
It didn't seem to be okay, but he didn't argue. Instead, he reached across her to the glove compartment, popped it open, and withdrew a small, flat box wrapped in white paper with a single red bow.
"Happy Valentine's Day," he said with a smile as he met her eyes. "I would have saved it for Thursday, but since I'm working..."
She hadn't actually expected anything from him, and held the gift for a few moments after he handed it to her.
"Well now I feel bad," she said with a grin. "You got me something and all I had planned was a blow job."
"I couldn't ask for a better Valentine's Day present than that. Or any day present, for that matter."
She ran her thumbnail along the paper and tore into it, leaving her with a plain box. She opened it and gazed at the tiny book within, no larger than her hand.
"Aw, isn't that sweet--you think I'm literate," she joked.
"It's a book of poetry. When Shaw moved rather abruptly--and I think you know why--he told me to take whatever books I wanted. This one," he nodded to the book, "was one Natalya apparently gave him way back when."
Merri gazed up at him in confusion. "He didn't want to keep it?"
Thad shrugged. "I think it bothers him--not the book, but the memory of her. I get the distinct impression he doesn't like the idea of her coming and messing with his head and life every lifetime, then disappearing again."
"Destiny be damned?"
"Apparently. I guess I don't blame him. But anyway, I thought you'd like it."
Never in her life had someone given her a book of poetry. Or any kind of book, for that matter. She wasn't sure anyone had ever thought of her being intellectual enough for that.
She flipped it open, scanning through the crisp, yellowed pages. Her eyes came to a dark red ribbon bookmark placed near the end of the book. "Did he leave the bookmark in, or you?"
"That was me. Lame attempt at being romantic, I guess."
She gazed up at him. "Your attempts aren't lame."
"You can say that all you want, but right now I feel like an idiot."
Flipping to the bookmarked page, Merri read the poem.
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
"It's Lord Bryon," he explained. "One I really like--I was glad to see it there."
The final line of the poem stuck out at her. Innocent. About the least likely adjective that could be used to describe her.
She glanced up at him and smiled quickly. "I love it. Thank you."
He reached out to brush the hair from her face, then leaned forward and kissed her. "Don't suppose you're going to invite me up?"
"I can't--I told you before, my mom isn't great with the idea of me seeing anyone. Especially not an older someone."
"Ah, right." He sat back in his seat, but kept his steady gaze on her. "Your mom. Whom I've never met. And Gen's never met. And whom you never talk about."
"Okay, why don't you just figure out what you want to say rather than insinuate it."
"I don't think you live with your mom."
"Well, I wish you were right, but you're not."
"What's her name?"
She wasn't ready to give in yet, and continued grinning, as if it was all a joke. "Loretta. What's your mom's name?"
"Where does she work?"
"One of those General Motors subsidy plants that employs half of the town. Where does your mom work?"
"Why do you never, ever talk about her?"
"Because we have a really shitty relationship. Satisfied yet or would you care to try water boarding to pry some more answers from me?"
"I'm not going to push you to tell me anything you don't want to," he said. "But I want you to know you can trust me." He squeezed her hand gently. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"I know--and there's nothing to tell, I swear." She leaned forward and kissed him. "I'll talk to you later this week? To exchange a few more Valentine's Day gifts not in a public parking lot?"
"Sure."
Merri gathered her gift, then stood outside her fake apartment building with a cigarette while Thad drove away.
It's not you hurting me that I'm worried about...
© 2008 Skyla Dawn Cameron
Reader discretion advised.
At some point there will be sex, violence, coarse language, and mature themes (if there hasn't been already).
Not for readers under 18.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 License.
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