Pretty Dark Nothing (29 page)

Minutes passed. Twigs and other debris floated by in a never-ending parade, hypnotizing with their constant swirl of water and objects speeding past. All hope of home and bed were lost with the realization that the light had been an illusion, some strange trick of the eye.

The shadows crept closer, beating their wings in rhythm with her heart. She let them surround her, let them curl up next to her like unwanted strays begging for food, stroking her drenched hair with sharp talons, purring, hissing, whispering, compelling her to slip into the water. And why not? Neither of her parents wanted to be around her. Grades meant nothing to her anymore. Jeff belonged to Kerstin now, and Aaron hated her. Life would never go back to those happy moments she’d had when she was younger, so why try anymore? Everything she touched turned to rot and ruin, and she wanted to sink into a dark and everlasting nothingness. Quinn unfolded a leg and dipped one foot into the swift water, feeling the resistance as it flowed past her ankle, colder than she’d imagined. She pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them close.

I wish.

“What?”

I don’t know.

A sense of
déjà vu
overwhelmed her, and she tried to catch the memory that flitted past her conscious mind.

“Tired?”

Yes.

“Of life?”

Of dealing with it.

“With life?”

She caught the
déjà vu
feeling again, her dead, gray flesh, heavy and cumbersome in life, sinking into oblivion beneath the water—a lake, not a river.

I guess.

“We know.”

I know.

“How to help you.”

To never wake up?

“To never wake up again.”

Quinn, perfect and luminous, floated above the lake, free of her body, beautiful, like a firefly or an angel. She could soar far away—free from the guilt, the pain and heartache this terrible world had to offer. All trust in this world had shattered like ice under a chisel. She stood, wind whipping at her tattered dress as she approached the edge where the boulder met the stream. Light mist turned to heavier drops as another storm cloud hovered overhead.

No more pain.

“No more confusion.”

No Kerstin.

“No Jeff.”

No affairs.

“Or stepmothers.”

Or unwanted baby brothers.

“No more tests.”

No more suspensions.

“It will end the gossip.”

End the anger.

“End the hate.”

Bring me peace?

“If you want.”

What about you?

“You will be free of everything.”

Quinn couldn’t control how she lived, but maybe she could control how she died. There was nothing left to keep her here.

Yes.

***

Mud and grime coated the hems of Aaron’s pants. Even his shoes were flooded with the oozing mire as he slogged his way to the back alley. He searched the field house, the tennis courts, and every inch of the practice fields. No sign of Quinn. No call from Marcus or the girls.

“She’s probably home by now, warm and dry,” he mumbled to himself. “Why am I out here again?”

The asphalt of the oval track shone silver as Aaron panned the beam over it. Quiet and empty. He continued on to the back ally, waving the flashlight in an arc, seeking out every dark corner to make sure Quinn wasn’t curled up in one of them. He found nothing but a Dumpster, rank with the smell of rotten eggs and old vegetables. Gagging, he covered his mouth and nose with a wet sleeve and moved farther down the path.

“Which way did you go?”

Right, down the alley and to the main road? Or left, to the south parking lot? Or did she go through the small gap in the fence and into the woods? He pulled at his once-white shirt, now sticky from the starch, inviting the air to separate it from his damp skin. With no clear answer, Aaron placed the flashlight on the ground and gave it a good spin. The light played over the fence, building, Dumpster, trees, and road. When it stopped, the clear beam cast light upon the narrow alley.

“Right it is.”

Cloud cover hid the moon. In the darkness, Aaron felt as if he might be squeezed to death between the building and the wooden fence. He sucked at the cold night air, hurrying to the wider opening of the asphalt drive. A downed power line had wrapped itself around the pole, leaving its sputtering end dangling a foot from the ground. Aaron hugged the fence. Easing his way around the electric line, he followed the road as it curved around the back of the school until it dead-ended into Mustang Avenue.

With no sign of Quinn, Aaron decided to return to the Jeep, making his way to the front of Westland High by way of Bluebonnet creek. He walked at the top edge of the overflowing stream, shining his flashlight down the craggy sides.

Forty feet upstream, he saw her: arms outstretched, hair blowing behind her like a mad witch. His heart leapt in joy and trepidation. Aaron felt for the cell phone in his pocket, dialing Marcus without moving his eyes from Quinn. “I found her. Yes, behind the school on the bank of the creek, about a quarter of a mile upstream from Mustang. Yes, tell the girls. Hurry.”

Aaron ended the call and scrambled down the bank. She turned around; his heart blanched. Gravity pulled her backward into the rapids, entombing her in a casket of water.

***

Quinn hit the hard swirling water, her head going under first. The cold water shocked her as it rushed up her nostrils. She fought her way to the surface as her body tumbled under the rolling waves. The liquid stung her nose and throat as she expelled a silty mouthful into the waiting air. One breath. The current dragged her under again, stronger than she ever imagined, and she regretted her death wish.

The demons took the plunge with her, fluttering around her face every time she surfaced, cackling, landing on her head, pushing her under before she could scream. She gasped, bobbing to the surface from another dunking, and found a log floating next to her. Two demons swooped down, claws extended. They went for her eyes. She pushed with her legs, submerging herself to avoid the flying wisps around her. She stretched her arm to grasp the rough bark from below and scrambled up onto it, catching her breath as she raced downstream.

“Please, God, somebody, help!” she screamed as the beasts hopped along the log, making their way to peck on her hands.

The demons erupted into hideous screams, hissing and spitting at her.

“Even God can’t help you now.”

Pain exploded in the back of Quinn’s head, and she sank under the water, her limbs paralyzed and useless as she floated down the churning river, drifting into unconsciousness.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Aaron dropped the flashlight. Running farther downstream, he jumped over rocks and limbs like an Olympic track star, the adrenaline of fear pumping through his blood, propelling him forward. He stopped at a place where the water touched the top of the bank, readying himself for an attempt to rescue Quinn as she rushed downstream. The river ran fast, and it shouldn’t take long for her to reach him. He strained to see Quinn in the dark rapids and finally spotted her twenty feet upriver, clinging to a floating limb.

The currents steered her away from his reach. A land rescue wasn’t possible. Swallowing hard, he paced the shore, scanning for any sign of Marcus. Where was he? Pressure pressed on his lungs at the thought of water creeping past his waist, over his chest, into his lungs. He cleared his mind, meditating to slow his heart.

You can do this. Don’t let the fear consume you. You can do this. She needs you. You couldn’t save them, but you can save her.

He stripped off his shirt and shoes, ready to dive into the roiling river. Tense, he watched her log spin, pushing Quinn backward toward a downed tree. The upper half of its long trunk protruded out into the raging creek like an evil hand, waiting to shove Quinn under and hold her there.

“Quinn!” Aaron cupped his hands around his mouth, pleading with her to watch out, but the words were sucked out of his mouth and into oblivion. Tremors rocked through Aaron.
Please, Marcus, hurry. I don’t know if I can do this.

Quinn screamed seconds before the log silenced her, and she slipped beneath the inky rapids. His mind spun into the depths of his memory of Ruth, screaming as the car hit the water, her body sinking beneath the waves, her hand reaching for his.

Now. Do it now.

Calm strength filled him. He breathed in and jumped. As he hit the cold surface, lightning crackled in his mind. His perception changed as he reached for her energy. The world disappeared, and all his senses zeroed in on Quinn. Maybe it was his urgency, his fear for her life, but for the first time ever his ability transcended physical touch and catapulted through time and space until it collided with her unconscious. The void he’d sensed after their night in the field gone, and he could feel her again, not physically, but mentally. She whirled under the water, but he knew where she was.

He kicked hard against the current, his muscles straining to cut through the rapids. She ebbed farther away from him. Propelling himself downward, his lungs burned. The pressure intensified, a band around his chest, squeezing the last bit of air from his body. He felt light-headed as he reached for a ribbon of lavender silk. His fingers found the hem of her dress, and he pulled on the lifeline to reel her in. When she was close enough, he grabbed her arm and with one hard kick, shot upward.

He broke the surface, and they were back into the raging storm. He coughed and gulped at the damp air, filling his body with fresh oxygen. Quinn wasn’t breathing, not even shallow breaths. He needed to get them both to shore, and fast. Land disappeared in the rainy darkness. The creek carried them around a small bend, and he spotted an outcropping. He used his right arm to hold her and his left to pull himself toward the rocky finger, his legs pumping scissor-like under the water. Rushing waves pushed them under every few seconds, blinding him, tiring him. He struggled to stay afloat as her weight dragged him down, the water resistant to letting them out of its grasp. They were being swept downstream at an alarming speed, and the more Aaron fought to make it to shore, the less progress he made.

Another downed tree skimmed the water on the left side of the shore. Aaron switched arms, dragging Quinn toward their one chance. Reaching out with his hand, he grasped the extended branch, tightening his fingers around the rough bark, and pulled with unearthly strength.

Water rushed passed, tugging at her dead weight. His hand ached as the rough wood dug into his palm. He gritted his teeth and pulled forward to secure his arm around the branch. He fought a mighty battle between water and flesh, and the water was winning.

Aaron’s hope soared when Marcus appeared with the girls at the outcropping. Marcus didn’t hesitate. He dove into the icy water. His steady stroke carved a straight path to them in seconds. He grabbed the branch, treading water as if it were just another day at the pool.

“Take Quinn.” Aaron shouted over the roaring of the currents. Marcus nodded and pulled her into the crook of his arm.

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.” Energy drained from Aaron with every second, but he wanted her safe. “She needs medical attention. I’ll be right behind you.” He gave Marcus a reassuring smile.

Marcus nodded and made it to shore, pulling Quinn behind him with powerful strokes. In seconds, they were on the bank.

At least she was safe, that’s all that mattered. Cramps knotted the muscles in Aaron’s arm; he would never make it back to shore on his own. Marcus left Quinn and dove back into the river, but Aaron didn’t think he would make it in time. His palm slipped as the water dragged at his limbs. He scrambled to regain his grasp, but the wood ripped past his hand as he fell back into the raging river. He struggled for shore as the last of his energy seeped from him. Marcus screamed his name, he could see him cutting through the water like a torpedo, and then he disappeared around a bend as the water carried Aaron further and further away.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Aaron woke to the light of a full moon shining down on him, illuminating calm water. The river appeared as a mirror. It no longer pushed and shoved its way around the rock. The smooth, silvery liquid hugged the giant outcropping, ice-like, but warm to the touch. Was he dead? Dreaming? The world stood still, its silence oppressive. Quinn, lifeless and pale, lay next to him.

He scrambled to her, wondering where Marcus and the girls had gone. He cradled her in his arms and pushed the wet hair out of her face, revealing blue lips. He groped for a telepathic link, but Quinn’s brainwaves had gone out. He checked for breath. Nothing.

“No.” Tears streamed down his cheeks, dripping onto her lifeless body. He pulled his cell from his pocket. The blank screen stared back at him, and he chucked the phone away. It shattered to pieces as it hit the rocks.

Aaron pressed his lips to hers, breathing air into her lungs with one long exhale, crying as he pumped her heart with his fists.

“The blood of her soul is on your hands.”

Aaron whirled around, shading his eyes from the brightness that accompanied the being that stood before him. He blinked, adjusting to the distinct glare.

Coal-black hair hung straight and long around his ears, and his bright, silver eyes pierced the darkness. His olive skin glowed from the inside out, a lampshade muting the brilliant bulb underneath. He was bare-chested, a warrior from another time. Slender and tall, he stood, hands clasped in front of him, waiting. Two curved, runed swords hung at his hips, one ablaze with blue, the other with golden light.

Azrael. The name burned through him like fire.