Read It Begins Online

Authors: Richie Tankersley Cusick

It Begins (16 page)

BOOK: It Begins
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Here I go again
, Lucy thought ruefully, watching the dock glide farther and farther from view—
getting myself into another dangerous situation.
And yet, out here in this pristine wilderness, surrounded by such stillness, watching Byron rhythmically work the oars, she felt a sense of peace that she hadn’t felt for days.

“Don’t ruin it,” she said suddenly, and felt her cheeks flush as Byron gave her a curious look.

“What?”

“The mood. The minute.”

He cocked his head … lifted an eyebrow. A playful wind tugged at his hair, streaming it back from his face. “I’ll just keep rowing, then.”

“So much has happened,” she tried to explain, her words tumbling out in a rush.
“Too
much—too much to comprehend and understand and try to believe. And from what you’re telling me—and maybe from what you’re
going
to be telling me—things might be getting worse.”

He didn’t answer, but still, she could see the seriousness in his eyes.

“So just give me this one minute, okay? To breathe? And be away from everything that’s
bad? And see the world in a way that makes some sense to me.”

Lucy’s voice caught. She turned from him abruptly and fixed her gaze on the distant shoreline … on the woods and the hills and the endless blue sky above. For a long time there was only the sound of the oars dipping water … the music of the birds … the soft sigh of pine-rich breezes. Lucy shut her eyes and pretended wishes came true, and she wished this could last forever.

But wishes never come true. At least not mine. At least not the good ones.

As she felt the boat jar, her eyes came open. A second later the dinghy was scraping up onto a narrow stretch of beach, and Byron was out of the boat, anchoring it securely between a small shelter of trees.

“Grab those blankets under your seat,” he said, reaching for her hand. “We’ll go this way—I think you’ll like the scenery.”

“What is this? Some kind of island?”

“No, just another side of the lake. We could have driven—there’s a road off that way about half a mile—but I think the boat ride’s much nicer.”

“How do you know about these places?” Lucy asked, as he pulled her up a steep rise and on to a stretch of level ground.

“I grew up here, remember? And I take care of a lot of these cabins off-season. And in the summer I do some maintenance work.”

“What kind of maintenance work?”

“Handyman stuff, mostly.”

“So that’s how you had that key.”

“I have all the keys.”

Taking the blankets, he led her along the beach for another five minutes, then suddenly veered off again toward the shore. After maneuvering several more rocky slopes, Lucy found herself in a small, wooded cove with a breathtaking view of the lake.

“You’re right, it is beautiful,” she said appreciatively, gazing out across the shimmering expanse of water.

“And private.” Byron shook out a blanket and spread it over the ground. “Sit down … wrap this other one around you. It’s pretty cold out here.”

Lucy did so. She watched as he sat beside her, his eyes narrowed intently on the opposite
horizon. She hugged her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees.

“Do you believe in evil?” Byron asked.

Lucy turned to him in surprise. Somehow, surrounded by all this peaceful beauty, his question seemed almost laughable … and far more than ominous.

“Evil?”

“An evil that can transcend time and space? An evil so obsessive that you can’t escape it, no matter how hard you try?”

Her brow creased in a frown. She drew back from him and stared harder. “You’re really serious.”

“You told me you thought you were being stalked the other night, when you ran from the church. Do you remember how you felt?”

“Of course I remember. I was terrified.”

“Well, that’s how Katherine felt all the time … like she was being stalked by someone. Except she couldn’t outrun him. And she couldn’t hide. Because he was in her visions and in her dreams.”

“Byron—
what
are you talking about?”

But he wouldn’t look at her, just kept staring
out across the water, at the play of light and shadow off the woods across the lake.

“They started about three years ago,” he said gravely. “When she was sixteen. And they weren’t like the other visions she’d had her whole life. These were like the worst kind of nightmares. Nightmares she couldn’t wake up from. Nightmares she couldn’t escape. Things more horrible than you could ever imagine.”

With an unconscious gesture, Lucy pulled the blanket closer around her. The breeze off the beach had nothing to do with the sudden chill in her veins.

“She said it was like looking at the world through the essence of evil … as though
she
were inside his head, thinking out through his thoughts and seeing things through his eyes.”

“Sort of”—Lucy was struggling to understand—“like a camera taking pictures?”

“Yes, capturing every gory detail as it happens.”

Despite the blanket, Lucy felt even colder. “Did she tell you what these things were?”

“Never. Only that they were inhuman. So violent and hideous, she couldn’t bear them
anymore. Never knowing when they’d come … or how long they’d last. And worst of all, never being able to stop them. Just having to stand by and watch, over and over again.”

“So where were these visions coming from?”

“From the mind of a monster. From someone sick and twisted, who enjoyed causing pain and watching his victims suffer.”

“My God … so you think … you think this person was
real?”

Byron’s expression turned grim. “Katherine did. And she was convinced he’d keep right on killing and brutalizing people, and that he’d never get caught. Because
she
was the only one who knew about him.”

“And she didn’t have any idea who he was?”

“None. She never saw his face. Because she was always seeing things from
his
perspective.”

Lucy could feel goose bumps along her arms. Could feel a cold, stealthy uneasiness gnawing at the back of her mind. Determinedly she tried to force it away, tried to concentrate on what Byron was saying.

“—a connection,” he continued. “But why? We never knew.”

“You mean, a connection between their minds? Between their thoughts? Like the bond
you
had with Katherine?”

Byron’s face went rigid. “How can you even compare the two? That’s—”

“No, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant,” she said quickly. “I’m just trying to understand this. So Katherine could see these … these
atrocities
this guy was committing.
As
he was committing them?”

“Yes.
Forced
to watch him. But
helpless
to stop him.”

“Then … was it someone she knew?”

“Impossible.”

“Someone she met just one time, maybe? Someone with psychic abilities as exceptional as hers, who was somehow able to lock into her mind?”

“You mean … sort of like a psychic parasite?”

“Exactly.”

“She hardly left the house. And this is a small community—people tend to know each other around here. I can’t think of anybody who fits into an evil mode like this one. And believe me … I’ve tried.”

“But you said she sensed things—
saw
things—by touching. So maybe she bumped into him in a crowd … I mean, he could have just been passing through town, or visiting somebody nere. Maybe he dropped something … or … or accidentally left something of his behind. And Katherine just happened to pick it up.”

Byron sounded weary. “I’ve thought of that, too. And I guess it
is
possible … except I think she’d only have felt a connection to it when it was in her hands. Just when she touched it.
Not
on and on for three years.”

“But maybe she kept it. Maybe she found something, and took it home with her and didn’t realize.”

“She’d have realized, Lucy, believe me.”

Lucy went silent. She watched as he leaned back on the ground, propping himself on his elbows. He stared far out at the opposite bank, and his gaze narrowed, hard as steel.

“Katherine was such a gentle person. Probably the only truly good person I’ve ever known in my life. And that’s what made it so much worse. The way she suffered … her fear and her pain … There were times she really thought
she was losing her mind. And sometimes I think …” His voice faltered … softened. “I think maybe … finally … in a way …”

A shadow seemed to cross his face. After a moment of uncertain silence, Lucy gently touched his shoulder.

“Wasn’t there anyone she could talk to? Someone who could help her?”

“And who would that have been? How do you explain something like that—especially in a town like this? Hell, everybody here
already
thought she was crazy.”

“But maybe someone who has experience in—”

“Ssh!” Jerking upright, Byron grabbed her shoulder. “Did you hear something?”

Lucy’s heart took a dive to her stomach. As she slowly followed the direction of his gaze, she listened hard through the quiet.

Wind sighing through trees … water lapping gently at the shore … her own pulse pounding in her ears …

“What?” she mouthed silently. “What is it?”

But she could feel his grip relaxing now … his body easing back down beside her. His hand
slid away from her arm, though his expression remained wary.

“What?” she asked aloud, but Byron only frowned and turned his attention back to the view.

“Nothing. Just jumpy, I guess.”

Lucy glanced nervously over her shoulder. Strange … she hadn’t really heard anything, yet she could feel a tiny sliver of dread at the back of her neck.

“It’s okay,” Byron reassured her again. “This is one of my secret places … and nobody’s around here this time of year anyway.”

Lucy wasn’t entirely convinced. She picked up a broken twig and nervously began scratching circles in the dirt.

“What about your grandmother?” she asked then. “Does she know about Katherine?”

His mouth twisted in a rueful smile. “There’s not much Gran doesn’t know. But I haven’t told her, if that’s what you mean.”

“So … do you think
she
believes Katherine’s dead?”

Byron fixed her with a calm stare. “When Katherine left home a year ago—that was before
Gran had her stroke—Gran told me I’d never see Katherine alive again. I didn’t want to believe that, of course. I should have known better. Maybe if I’d tried harder to stop Katherine from going … or maybe if I’d gone with her, maybe she’d still be alive now. That’s why you have to listen to me—maybe we can stop it this time—before you get hurt—”

“Before I get hurt?” Lucy shrank back in dismay. “What do you mean—”

“Because maybe he hasn’t realized it yet—”

“Byron—”

“—hasn’t realized yet who you are—”

“Stop it! You’re scaring me!”

“You
should
be scared, Lucy—you
need
to be scared! It might be the only thing that keeps you alive if—”

He broke off abruptly, his body tensing, his glance shooting once more toward the trees. As Lucy followed the direction of his focus, she felt that fine prickle of fear again, though now it was creeping down the length of her arms.

Very slowly Byron got to his feet. As Lucy started to follow, he shook his head at her and held a finger to his hps.

“No,” he whispered. “Wait here.”

“Where are you going?” Thoroughly alarmed now, Lucy watched him disappear into the woods. She stood there, heart pounding, listening to the faint rustle of branches as Byron moved away from her. But even that sound faded within minutes.

All that remained was silence.

Dangerous silence.

Should she call his name? Ignore what he’d told her and go after him? Lucy didn’t know what to do. With the lake on one side and the woods on all others, this spot that had seemed so idyllic just five minutes before, now seemed more like a …

Trap.

That’s it. I’m going.

Lucy started toward the trees, toward the exact spot where Byron had gone in. Surely he couldn’t be that far ahead of her—it should be easy to catch up. But what if she got lost? She’d be of no use to him then, and someone had to be able to go for help.

She wished she had a weapon. Quickly her eyes scanned the shore, coming to rest on a
large branch dangling over the water. With some effort, she managed to wrestle it loose; she could use it as a club if she had to.

“Lucy!”

Lucy froze. She hadn’t imagined it, had she? That voice calling through the trees …

“Byron?” she yelled back.

It had sounded so faint, that call—distant and muffled.
Oh God, maybe he really
is
hurt.
Why had he just gone off like that, anyway—what a stupid thing to do!

Lucy squinted off through the shifting shadows of the forest. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted as loud as she could. “By-ron!”

No answer.

I didn’t
imagine it

I’m
sure I
didn’t imagine it!

Yet at the same time the hairs lifted at the back of her neck, and her nerves went taut as wires.
Just like I didn’t imagine that voice in the confessional, that voice behind the tent at the fair …

She wished now that she’d told Byron about that voice—
why
hadn’t she told Byron about it?

“Byron!”
she called frantically. “Byron, where
are
you?”

The wind blew a long cold breeze in off the lake.

It wrapped around her like a damp caress.

“Lucy!” the voice seemed to echo, ghostly through the hills. “Please, Lucy! I need you!”

“Oh, God … oh God …” She knew then that something
must
have happened to him—something bad—something terrible—and it was all she could do to hold her panic in check.

“I’m coming!” Lucy shouted.

And ran headlong into the woods.

23

“Byron! Where are you?”

But she hadn’t heard him call in several minutes now, and she knew she’d be hopelessly lost if she went much farther.

BOOK: It Begins
3.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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