A Life of Death: Episodes 9 - 12 (15 page)

Eighteen

Madness

September 17, 2011

A gunshot rang out ahead, reverberating through the trees.

“Hector,” I hissed.

Jamie and I pushed faster. Hoping we weren’t too late, we barged into the trees, only slowing as the small clearing with the burning building came nearer. We ducked down to survey the scene for a moment. My eyes were drawn to the burning outbuilding, its walls and inner cargo growing into an inferno.

“How long has it been burning?” I whispered.

Jamie shook his head. “They only took Mom a few minutes before you arrived. Maybe fifteen minutes total.” His lowered voice didn’t sound certain.

Movement in the trees near the burning building some ten yards away caught my attention. In the foliage-covered darkness, even starlight was unable to penetrate, but I could discern the dark shape of a body lying on the ground, still and unmoving.

“Where the hell? I know I saw something.”

Jamie pointed further beyond. A shape flitted through the trees, staying outside the firelight. A sudden crack of a branch from behind startled me, and I spun around, only to hear another gunshot sear the crisp night air. Before I could see who or what was behind us, something tore into my shoulder, bowling me over onto dead leaves and limbs.

“You’re not taking my grandbaby,” hissed an aged woman’s voice from years back. Her words quaked, but whether from hatred or old age, I couldn’t tell.

I rolled over, again forcing the pain into a far corner of my mind as I searched the night in the direction of the voice. Her figure stood beneath a tree, shadows crisscrossing her silhouette and hiding any distinct features beyond her bed of curls encircling her head.

“You and your cursed blood will die today,” she promised. Her arms were extended toward me, embracing a gun. A strip of moonlight broke through the branches overhead, illuminating the crocheted, white sweater covering the arms and the butt of the gun. I recognized it as Hector’s. He took pride in the forty-five caliber Heckler and Koch. He’d even replaced both sides of the grips with a customized etching of the Virgin Mary in prayer. Faint floral designs played off the arms of her sweater in a failed attempt to compete with the design. It was a sweater like any grandmother might wear when welcoming home her darlings, and never one you’d expect to find on someone while they aimed a gun at you. She stepped forward, and the light shone across her face and spectacles. She still had the stony face, but it had gained more wrinkles, even grown splotched and pale in places. Behind her glasses, her eyes pledged murder. She swiveled, and the forty-five caliber sought out Jamie, who stood frozen a few feet away. “Including you, you little demon,” she said. “I hear tell that you’re just like your demonic father, speaking with ghosts and doing Satan’s bidding.”

I stared from her to Jamie, my world tumbling apart at the trembling pistol in the woman’s hands. The flames engulfing the building beckoned to me, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from this threatening woman or my son. A sudden bloodcurdling scream broke the silent night, stopping the distant sound of crickets better than the gunshots had. “Paige!” I shouted. My gaze swept over to the building, and again Paige’s voice rang out in an unintelligible yell, paining my very soul.

“Don’t you worry about that harlot,” Mrs. Easely said. “My baby’s takin’ good care of her. She’ll get the comeuppance she deserves, cavorting with demons like you and giving birth to more hell spawn.”

Tears threatened, and my heart felt like it was ripping in two.
Time… not enough time. She might shoot Jamie if I make a move, but if I do nothing… Paige.

“Mrs. Easely,” Jamie said, holding a hand up, palm first, “you don’t wanna do this. We’re not what you think. Your granddaughter killed fourteen people. If you do this, you’ll be no better than her. We won’t be the one’s goin’ to hell, you will.” He gave her a moment to think, but her jaw tightened. His other hand’s fingers curled around something invisible, but remained lowered at his side. “Don’t do this.” He took a slow step forward, and panic entered my old teacher’s eyes.

“Boy, you better watch your step,” Mrs. Easely growled. “It’s just like one of Satan’s minions to try and turn me against my blood. Those boys raped my baby. Those horny sinners had it comin’.”

Jamie took another step, closing the distance between them to under ten feet. “You’re a good woman, Mrs. Easely. You taught children for years, helped them to grow up and be model citizens. I know you won’t do this. Andrew wouldn’t have allowed this. It’s wrong.”

Her arms stiffened, and the trembling stopped. “You are a wily one,” she said, her voice quaking this time. “Bringing up my dead husband, I should shoot you right where you stand.”

Jamie didn’t take his eyes off her, and now only eight feet separated them. His voice was calm and soothing. “I know you miss your family, but you can’t bring them back this way. Like you said, I can speak with them. You know I can.”

“Uh, Jamie, admitting to that’s probably not a good idea,” I hissed, lifting myself on my good elbow and working my hand down to my waist.

“Quit movin’!” she shouted, glancing at me, then back at Jamie. “And you… you should be ashamed.”

Jamie shook his head. “I’m not ashamed. I help people just like you. Andrew wants you to stop.”

A tear ran from under Mrs. Easely’s wire-rimmed glasses. “Don’t you talk about him,” she hissed, her arms shaking.

“He’s holding my hand right now, Deborah, whispering in my ear,” Jamie explained, taking another step, his hand still curled at his side. “Remember the good times. Even when things were hard and budgets were getting cut, y’all made it through by supporting each other. I know he wasn’t a believer in the afterlife. He told me, but he’s here for you now. You just have to accept him.”

Mrs. Easely stepped to the side, placing space between her and us. “No, that’s not right. He’s in heaven.” Another lance of light illuminated her more clearly as she shook her head, her gray curls quivering as though an uninvited spider had gotten into them.

“He’s right here.” Jamie held up his hand, maintaining the invisible hold. Smoke from the fire drifted through the trees, and I could have sworn it parted around a large, form standing next to Jamie. “He’s with me. He’s here for you,” Jamie added.

“S-stop. P-please stop,” Stone Face Easely pleaded, her façade finally breaking. The gun lowered to the ground, and I grasped mine, flicking open the leather fastener. However, they were now mere feet apart, with Jamie standing almost directly between us.

“Deborah, Andrew wants to show you something, but he has to use me to communicate. Please, take my hand.” Jamie took another step forward, extending his free hand toward her.

“It c-can’t be,” she stammered. “He’s in heaven.”

“There are many places and states in the afterlife, Mrs. Easely. Andrew’s here for you.”

Freeing one shivering hand from the pistol’s grip, Easely lifted her hand to his. She hesitated over his fingers, and Jamie grasped hers, wrapping his fingers around her small palm and wrist.

“It’s okay, Deborah,” he said, an older, much lower voice underlying his words. “I’m here for you.” The other voice was more pronounced in the final words, using Jamie’s lips as though he were a ventriloquist’s dummy.

Easely’s eyes widened behind her silver spectacles. “Andrew?” Her tone was unsteady, but held an element of disbelief.

“Darlin’, you can’t do this. What would Elmore think? Your daddy would’ve strapped you good for even thinkin’ about something like this,” Jamie said, his voice now completely lost in the ghost’s. “And I’m ashamed. I love you, doll, but this has got to stop.”

More tears ran down her face, dripping onto her floral sweater. She dropped the gun to the leaf-covered ground and placed her other hand in Jamie’s, staring into his eyes.

“Now, darlin’, I’ve gotta show you somethin’,” Jamie said. Deborah’s deceased husband’s baritone voice held a mountain drawl like many of the locals in the area. “This is for the best.”

Mrs. Easely nodded her head and licked her lips, gripping Jamie’s hand as though it were her lifeline. A burst of light flashed in their hands, growing until it coursed through both their bodies. Mrs. Easely’s head flew back, her glasses spinning into the shadowy night. Her mouth and face contorted as though in silent anguish, highlighted by the bright light. Her mouth attempted to scream, but not even a croak emerged. Her hands began to vibrate then shake, growing more pronounced as it spread through her body like the light had. Soon her entire body seized as though suffering an epileptic fit. When it could not be controlled anymore, her hands slid out of Jamie’s and she collapsed to the ground. The light dimmed and vanished, leaving her huddled form contorted and shivering. Jamie stared at her, panting and taking a teetering step to steady himself.

Another scream echoed through the forest. This time Paige wailed, “It
burns
. Help!”

Both our heads spun to see the building glowing like an enormous torch in the night. I couldn’t see my wife’s form since the front of the building stood in the distance, facing us. Jamie and I scrambled toward it, going as fast as our bodies would allow.
Paige… Paige… my beautiful, Paige,
was all I could think. Sirens and a woman’s scream echoed in the distance, but barely registered in my conscious thoughts. Hurtling around the burning shed, I moved back until I could see Paige, still tied to the tin roof. Parts of it glowed reddish-orange.

She squirmed against the heat and held her head up, eyes wide and pleading as they met mine. “Alex, help,” she croaked.

I didn’t realize I was still holding my coat until I began beating at the burning wall with it, determined to make my way up. The heat was incredible, and sweat emerged from everywhere as I approached the scorched logs. Grasping the searing-hot wall, the pain in my fingers was but a distant thought compared to the need to save Paige, the love of my life. Throwing the coat across the roof of the shed, I pulled myself up and onto it. “I’m comin’, baby. I’m comin’,” I whispered.

Her hair hung in sweaty tendrils, but she’d been able to spit out the dirty cloth that was shoved in her mouth. “Alex, help,” she whispered and coughed, pain-filled tears streaming from her red-rimmed eyes. Lengths of thick rope secured her to the roof like hospital-bed straps, and her wrists were zip-tied like the other victims.

I jerked on one rope and felt it give and snap, probably fraying at the end from the fire. It loosened, but didn’t completely give way. I pulled harder, placing my shoulder underneath and standing, forcing it up and away from the roof. Paige’s body shifted, lifting, but weighing me down since the cord was wound under her right arm and over her torso, then under the next arm. It finally gave way, and I almost lost my balance on the slanted roof. Paige sat up and rolled her upper body onto the coat at my feet while I steadied myself. I pulled at the one binding her legs. It held tight.

“Here,” Jamie shouted from below and threw me a folding knife, the one with the faux-wooden handle I’d given him last Christmas.

I flipped the blade out and began sawing at the rope.
Should… have… sharpened… it,
I silently swore with each sawing stroke. Seconds passed like years. Clouds of smoke billowed from around the roof edges, and small tendrils emerged from nail holes and cracks. I blinked at my watering eyes, focusing on the taut rope wound around Paige’s feet. After what seemed like an eternity, it snapped and I untangled her feet, lifting them onto the overcoat. I stood over her, my legs straddling her bruised and burnt body while I used the knife on the zip-tie. “Don’t move, baby,” I whispered.

She panted and closed her eyes, but her trembling hands and arms revealed the willpower it must have taken to remain still in that inferno. I stared down as she curled her hands out, away from the binding and Jamie’s knife. Inside, each palm held a fresh brand to match Jamie’s forehead. I cursed Liz in silence yet again, but worked at the plastic tie. Her hands came free a moment later, and pained, watering eyes opened to stare at me.

“We’re goin’ home, honey,” I said, positioning myself on the metal roof so I could lift her in my arms. The soles of my shoes stuck at first, then squished with each step, but I lifted her, and she looked into my eyes with relief and love.

“Jamie, you down there?” I asked, unable to see him as I moved closer to the roof’s edge.

“Yeah, right below you. Just drop her a few inches from the roof, and I’ll catch her.” Paige’s eyes flew wide at his words.

I whispered, “It’ll be okay, love. Trust in me… and your son.”

She nodded. “I do.”

Holding her out, I doubled-checked my distance from the edge and let go. She plummeted down, her mouth clamped shut, until Jamie caught her in his arms and carried her a few yards away into the trees. There he laid her on the ground while I grabbed my overcoat and leapt to the ground, wincing as the jolt enraged the gunshot wound and my broken ribs. The pain in my burnt fingers filtered to my mind. I gritted my teeth and shuffled the coat, draping it over my left forearm.

“You two okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Jamie replied, helping Paige to her feet and placing her arm over his shoulders.

They followed me around the corner of the building just as an enraged woman’s voice bellowed, “You!” Lifting Hector’s gun from next to Mrs. Easely’s shivering body, Liz stalked forward, aiming it at not me, but Jamie. “What did you do to her?”