The Ultimatum Ethan
Another double exposure. An aching overflow. It almost felt like his mind was trying to record two memories in the same place at the same time.
Those double exposures persisted, here, in the motel’s office. He could hardly concentrate on what the twins were saying. Thank God he heard it twice, then.
“A grave crime has been committed on our land,” Thomas said.
“Against our family,” Tabitha said.
“Against our blood.”
“We will see justice done,” Tabitha said.
“Even if it means watching all of you die.”
Ethan heard it, then heard it again. His head throbbed. He had to sit down. Fernanda stood near the door. Stanley sat in the office’s other chair, his head in his hands, quivering like a child. A child with an enormous handgun strapped to his hip.
Kyla was near the fireplace, examining some sort of carved stone she’d plucked from the mantel. She didn’t seem to be paying the twins any mind at all. Hunter appeared out of the shadows to crouch at Ethan’s side. He murmured in Ethan’s ear, “What’s wrong?”
Ethan didn’t know where to start.
“At midnight,” Thomas said, “three things will happen.”
“The door will open,” Tabitha said.
“The lights will go out.”
“And anyone who’s not with us will—”
It started over again, their little speech, but before the twins could finish, Ethan raised his throbbing head, looked from Thomas to Tabitha, and said, “You’re lying.”
Thomas couldn’t have looked more shocked. After an agonized silence, he said, “Excuse me?”
“You’re lying. You don’t have a place to hide us. You’ll die at midnight if the lights go out, just like everyone else.”
Stanley stared at Ethan, at the twins. “What are any of you people talking about?”
“I—” Ethan broke off. “I don’t know.”
Was he crazy, or did Tabitha have to suppress a small smile?
When they lapsed into silence again, Thomas said, cautiously:
“We’ll make you a deal.”
“An ultimatum.”
“Tell us who killed our cousin, and…” He faltered. “And we’ll take the innocent to safety.”
Stanley scowled. “That boy just said you’re lying.”
“You want us to solve a murder? With what tools?” Fernanda crossed the office to toss a log on the fire. In the new light, she studied the twins. “How can you be serious? We are not detectives.”
She looked to Kyla, probably for backup, but the girl’s attention was still riveted to the egg-shaped rock in her hand. Kyla’s thumb navigated the grooves that whorled its surface. Her lips were moving, silent.
A terrible BANG shook the walnut door in the back of the office. A furious clawing came from the other side, a SHRIEK like the scream of a massive owl that made the hairs on Ethan’s neck rise.
Stanley recoiled in his seat. “What the fuck is in there?”
Thomas said, “The same as the things that are out there.”
Tabitha raised a finger to the desert outside. Glints of yellow eyes, dark feathers in the black, more SHRIEKS echoing through the void.
And then Ethan heard it all again.
Thomas said, “We have a hiding place. Somewhere safe from the creatures of the dark.”
“A place we use, on nights like this,” Tabitha said.
Fernanda shook her head, pointed at Ethan. “How many times must we say it? You are lying. Where would you even keep such a place here? Why could we not just find your hiding spot for ourselves?”
Thomas gawped at her. He reminded Ethan of nothing so much as an actor whose performance has gone radically off-script.
It was Tabitha who improvised. “Let me put it a different way. If you want any hope of seeing tomorrow, you’ll learn who killed our cousin. You have until midnight.”
Ethan met her eye. The woman didn’t look away.
She was clearly expecting something from him, but before he could begin to guess what it could be, the office’s front door opened, letting in a rush of cold air and the smell of menthol cigarettes.
A man stepped inside, a familiar face. He was in his forties, Asian, dark hair, a splinted nose, a bright sneer.
He wore leather riding boots. Ethan found himself staring a long time at those boots.
It was Ryan Phan, the man Ethan had seen staring into room 4 from the back porch.
But how did Ethan know his name?
“I think we can clear all of this up right now,” Ryan said, his sneer widening. “Can’t we, Stanley?”