Chapter 12 #3
“We’ll find the bones and either bless or burn them.” Rae looked at me as she explained. She held her hand up like she was going to touch me but placed it on the armrest of my seat instead. “And then monitor our readings, hang out for a couple of days to make sure it worked.”
“What constitutes a blessing or burning?” Esther asked.
“How peaceful or troubled the spirit is,” Rae said. “Restless and mourning spirits work well with blessings.”
“And nine times out of ten, vengeful ones call for burning,” Nico noted. “Between Octavia’s nightmare and the ranch hand’s accidents, something tells me Arnold’s not chill enough for a blessing.”
Rae took a deep breath and handed him back the logbook. “Burn without question.”
We exited the library with two separate missions: Rae and Co. would desecrate a grave, and I had to get back to the ranch to help with dinner.
“Sun’s setting,” I said once we were at the bottom of the library steps. “I’m going to head straight home.”
Rae nodded, letting me go ahead on my own to grab the horses. I left, assuming she’d go with her team to the cemetery, but was shocked to find she only exchanged a few words with them before returning to my side.
“Forget something?” I watched as Nico and Jonah piled into the RV with Esther in tow. My ranch hand had volunteered to be their tour guide through the maze of Alpine’s cemetery.
“I was hoping you and Wilson could teach me the recipe for that soup we had.” Rae scratched behind Kat’s ear, earning a sweet huff from the horse.
“You’re not going to burn the bones of some unfortunate murder victim?” I asked. “Isn’t this the part you signed up for?”
Rae’s smile waned. “We don’t do this for the hell of it.”
“No, I know…you’re doing it because you think it’s going to help. But it still feels very disrespectful.”
“You know, I wish sometimes I could be more like people like you. I wish I didn’t know that monsters in closets could be real.
I don’t find joy in unearthing dark history.
But someone has to do it. We do it so people like you have a choice to remain oblivious.
So people like you don’t have to worry about how dark the world continues to become. ”
The sharpness in her tone could cut ice. I considered what she lost by being born into this profession, inheriting the expectation of service instead of choosing it. Bearing all that responsibility on her shoulders and still maintaining a smile while doing so.
“I’m trying to make the best of it,” she continued, voice lower, exhausted.
“Most days, it’s okay, but some days include hard parts like finding out that some guy was murdered and perhaps is now trapped in a loop of that pain.
I’m lucky enough to have a team that allows me to step back sometimes and cook dinner with a client. ”
She grabbed hold of Kat’s reins as she climbed on. “So, are we ready?”
I nodded numbly and followed her lead all the way home. Rae didn’t glance back at me once. Her confession rang through my head the entire ride, echoes of her honesty and notes of pain louder than the waves of silence between us.
Wilson greeted us at the door with his cheery smile and unfettered excitement when Rae mentioned his soup. December wore one of my aprons, bragging to her cousin about learning how to make bread.
“I’ll take them in,” I offered when Rae hesitated to leave me tending to the horses on my own. “You guys get started.”
“You sure?” Rae asked, meeting my gaze for the first time since we got back. Her eyes reflected my regret about the assumptions I’d made about her.
“I’ll see you later” was what I said, instead of the paragraph that offered, sorry, I’m sure dealing with death, time and time again, is one of the hardest things ever. Of course, you never get used to it. No sane person would get used to the darkness.
Rae, December, and my brother disappeared inside, already talking about the joys of butter before the front door shut behind them.
It took me around half an hour to get Kat and Frog fed and settled in for the night.
By the time I went back inside, the house was sweltering from the oven.
The air smelled of tomatoes and ground beef.
“Want to help snap some green beans?” Wilson peeked his head around the kitchen’s doorway.
“Sure, I’ll be down in a second.” I started upstairs to change out of my clothes and wash up.
The temperature on the second floor was jarring, goose bumps rising across my skin from the chill.
I shivered, checking the thermostat. There was no way it was eighty degrees Fahrenheit, like the dial said. It had to be broken.
Lovely.
Another way to spend money I didn’t have.
I dug through my drawers for a sweatshirt before going to the bathroom.
After scrubbing my hands and nails clean, I splashed water on my face.
My skin was sticky with sweat and dust from the ride.
When I stood back up to reach for my face soap, I did a double take in the mirror.
My reflection didn’t have a speck of water on it.
I frowned, running my fingers across my cheek.
Are you really that exhausted?
Short answer: Yes. Between last night and a full day of being on my feet, I could barely keep my eyes open.
I turned up the hot water and splashed my face a couple more times.
My stomach pinched when I met my gaze once more, my skin as dry as ever. I stared down at my palms where droplets of water fell from my fingertips.
Relax.
My fingers trembled. But somewhere in the peculiar, there would be an explanation.
As I bent over again, I caught my reflection in my peripheral vision. My torso was unmoving. The doorway behind me remained blocked by my reflection standing upright.
I jerked back up, pulse pounding as I studied myself in the mirror. There was a delay when I blinked. I poked my cheek, and that movement was also a second or so too slow, as if I was playing Simon Says.
My mouth parted, breathing hitched as my reflection pinched my cheekbone.
I hadn’t moved an inch.
My reflection continued to pinch, pulling the skin as if testing its bounds. Once satisfied, it tried the other cheek. I tasted bile on my tongue. Oxygen became impossible to claim; my lungs froze.
Noise from Wilson, December, and Rae moving pots and pans, and trying to decide what to listen to on the radio, found its way upstairs.
My jaw ached from the pain of wanting to call for them but not being able to scream.
The paralysis extended from my mouth to my legs.
The reflection leaned forward, pushing itself through the glass.
Its mouth curled into a strained smile. There were too many teeth, gums as black as midnight.
Right as it got close enough to breathe on my skin, it grabbed my neck.
The grip tightened, wringing as if I were a hand-washed item ready for the line. I thought breathing had been impossible before, but this restraint introduced me to a new world of torment.
The hands burned as they squeezed, a hot coal against my throat. Its face didn’t look much like mine anymore. The same structure was there, but it’d melted, the clay shaping into something new.
I willed my hands to move and got them to my neck. I clawed, trying to grab on to something as slippery as time.
Think. You can’t afford to keep panicking; think.
I scrambled, reaching for something on the bathroom counter.
I couldn’t die, not yet. Not like this. Wilson didn’t need me, but he wanted me around.
I knew that much for sure. And Kat and Frog definitely needed me.
Esther loved working at the ranch; without it, she’d be back at the antique shop—fun, but not her speed.
Elmwood was ours. We were building it. I was finally building my home. It couldn’t end for me this soon.
But what made me so special? Why should I survive?
This ranch would be here with or without me.
And my brother would figure it out. Esther would, too.
Besides them and the horses, no one knew I existed.
Before Rae and Co., no one knew me outside of a name on a piece of paper.
No one of note. Nothing to offer. I was the ghost that’d floated from town to town.
Except I never made a mark on anything. Never had the gall to haunt.
“Agreed. You’re no one, really,” the reflection spoke, voice distorted and low. “I’d be doing you a favor, wouldn’t I?”
Maybe.
I grabbed the wet bar of soap. It nearly slipped out of my hand, so I had to dig my nails into it. With all my strength, I shoved it into the reflection’s eyes, dragging it back and forth.
The reflection hissed as the bar made contact. Its grip loosened enough for me to snatch away. I fell back on my ass but didn’t stay there for long. The reflection snarled at me as I scrambled back to my feet and pushed out of the bathroom.
My throat burned as if I had strep. I tried to yell out for Rae, but there wasn’t enough air in my lungs. The side of my dresser banged into my hip; a few books tumbled to the floor.
Someone called from downstairs. I continued to the bedroom door, too afraid to look when a hot breath burned the back of my neck.
“Octavia?” Rae ran into me in the hall, catching me as I stumbled out of my room. Her hands tightened around my forearms, holding me steady as I forced a few words out.
“It’s in the bathroom.” I rubbed my throat with both hands, trying to assure myself the hands weren’t still around me.
Rae snatched her gaze to my room, and with her here, I was brave enough to look back. Instead of my dimly lit bedroom, a floor-to-ceiling wall of dark shadow met us. The darkness covered my bathroom, creeping forward like a cloud of smoke.
I pinched myself on the inner arm because maybe I’d passed out after coming upstairs.
“Oh, Octavia,” the distorted voice taunted. “You still truly believe you’re not seeing this?”
It was in my head, reading my thoughts.
“Since the beginning, yes,” it confirmed.