Chapter 22 #2
A muted clang and an animal screech stole my attention.
One of the officers had tripped over the barn doorway and dropped the crate they were carrying.
Through the wire I saw the groundhog, the one David helped me bandage—I’d planned to release her any day, as soon as she told me she was ready.
She was backed defensively into the corner of the crate, sides heaving and mouth gaping, panting in distress.
I lunged to the crate before the officer could recover and ripped the door open, the spring-loaded hinges creaking violently. The groundhog shot out without hesitation, winding her way through the forest of legs and disappearing into the dark.
“Hey!” the officer shouted, scrambling up. He was heavyset and baby-faced, blond curls stuck to his forehead.
I stepped in close, close enough to smell the fear-sweat under his body spray, close enough to see the pulse point beating in his neck. “You better watch your step,” I said. “Hospital’s a long way from here.”
“You can’t set them loose!”
It was so stupid of a protestation that it was nearly innocuous, as obvious as it was useless, a waste of the air it spent, and yet the words opened a depthless well of cold, black hatred inside me.
It was as old and dark and malevolent as the pond, as if the water I swallowed the day Norman Abdee drowned me had been sitting in the bottom of my chest since then.
Every slight from my friends and every move from the pastor had dug away the thin veneer of civility that covered it, and those words were what finally broke through.
There was no searing flash of rage, no simmering anger—there was only frigid black, and it froze my heart solid.
I reached into the ether and seized the remaining threads of my magic. I wove them tight. I dragged them over his head like a suffocating bag and cinched it hard enough to choke.
“Then why don’t you go chase her?” I said.
His face registered only the barest glimpse of surprise as his will was stolen from him, and then he went slack. He jerked around like a poorly handled puppet and stumbled after the groundhog, nearly colliding with another officer.
“Jeff, don’t!” she said. “You’re never going to catch it. Just let it go.”
He moved on without any sign of hearing her, quickly disappearing into the dark, the reflective DEC lettering on his jacket winking out like a candle. The female officer glared at me and then chased after him, the empty carrier in her hand banging against her leg.
Long minutes passed, and they didn’t come back.
The magic began to creak and strain in my grip, the wards unable to sustain this sudden demand on them while they continued to work against the intruders. I poured my own energy into it instead, until my very skin felt shrunk against my bones and my eyes went blurry with exhaustion.
Dawn still did not arrive, and even above the general noise of the operation, the intruders began to notice there was no other sound in the sanctuary.
There were no bird calls to herald morning, no insects chirping or buzzing in the grass; it was as if the barn and house existed in a void.
I saw them staring anxiously into the unyielding night, or turning suddenly, as if they’d felt a hand on their shoulder.
One of them reeled out of the feed room in horror, pointing with a shaking hand: “There’s a huge snake in there! Behind one of those bins!”
One of his braver partners went in, and he emerged a few minutes later with something on the end of a stick. “It’s just an old sweatshirt.”
“No, no!” the first one insisted. “There were eyes, I saw them. And it hissed at me.”
“Then it’s not there now,” the second said doubtfully. Nonetheless, he raised his voice so the other officers could hear him. “Everyone keep your eyes peeled for a snake.”
There was a murmur of relief when Shim and his lackey returned, but Shim was glowering. “Can’t see a goddamn thing out there,” he said. He checked his watch. “Sunrise is supposed to be in twenty minutes.”
Just then, the female officer who had chased after the baby-faced one returned, soaked with sweat and with a rim of white visible around her dark irises.
“Something’s wrong with Jeff,” she panted.
“One of the animals got loose and he’s looking for it, or something—I don’t really know what he’s doing, he just keeps walking straight ahead, not looking around or talking or anything.
I think he’s having some kind of episode.
I couldn’t get him to stop or come back, he’s still out there walking!
He’s off the property now, I’m pretty sure. ”
Shim swore and motioned at the officer who just returned with him. “Mike, go with her and see what the hell’s wrong with Jeff. Take your car. Where are Ken and Jaime?”
“Here,” someone said, and everyone turned to see the other pair coming back up the drive.
“Find anything?” Shim asked.
“Not a thing, but it’s practically a jungle down by the road. The thorns are like knives in there—Jaime got pretty cut up trying to get through it.”
The shorter one, who must’ve been Jaime, rolled up a shredded sleeve to reveal bloody tracks from his shoulder. There was cotton fill hanging from the rips in his jacket, and I glimpsed more scratches through the tears in his pants.
“Why’s it still so fucking dark?” he asked, sounding plaintive and unsettled. “Shouldn’t the sun be coming up?”
“Probably just cloudy,” Shim grunted.
“Not supposed to be.”
“I don’t know, Jaime, I’m not a goddamn meteorologist.”
“Can we go?” someone else asked loudly. “This place is giving me the creeps, especially with her standing there smiling like that.”
Every head turned toward me again, and I realized I was the “she” they were talking about. I hadn’t felt the smile on my face, but I did now, an alien stretch of my lips. Worst of all, I couldn’t seem to stop.
“Listen,” Shim said, stepping into the center of the gathered headlights in an attempt to get everyone’s attention. “The report we got specifically mentioned a fawn that may or may not be rabid. The animal was the number one concern. We can’t just—”
There was a strangely loud clink as he took a step, something that clearly wasn’t gravel. He bent down to pluck it from the ground, then held it up to the light.
At first I thought it was a shard of glass, but then I realized: it was a lens. I recognized the shape, could almost see the stone-blue eye that was once behind it. There was a spidering crack in the center, and even from here I could tell the clouded stains on it were an unmistakable rusty red.
“Don’t wear glasses, do you, Tess?” Shim asked.
“The trucks are loaded,” said another officer, a note of urgency in his voice. “Barn’s empty. If there’s another animal here, we’re not going to find it now.”
A murmur of assent went up, and everyone started to edge toward their vehicles. Shim must’ve sensed his control of the group waning, because he made a disgusted noise and waved a hand at them. “Fine, fine! Let’s go.”
He turned back once and pointed a finger in my face. “This is not finished.”
“You’re fucking right it isn’t,” I snarled back. “You better keep good records of every single one of my animals, because the instant my license is reinstated, I’m coming for all of them. If there’s a single T that isn’t crossed, it’ll be your ass.”
His cheeks bulged, spittle showing at the corners of his mouth like he was about to shout at me, but then he spun away.
As the car door slammed behind him, half a dozen engines revved, gravel and grass churning beneath their tires.
There was nearly an accident as they all tried to peel out at once, and sinuous shadows chased them down the drive, lurking at the edges of the taillights’ glow.
I stood alone in the driveway for a long time, unable to face the echoing hollowness of the barn, afraid I would feel it mirrored in myself.
The darkness began to lift, revealing the reddish tint of sunrise that had been creeping at the horizon unseen for an hour or more.
The remains of the gate were barely visible, multiple pieces strewn at the edges of the drive, the concrete-set posts listing drunkenly toward the road.
Shim took the lens.
It seemed like the wrong thought to have at this moment, when my animals had been ripped from me and were on their way to who knew where.
Some of them would injure themselves in the stress of the journey, and Shim would have them euthanized without any attempt to treat them.
The ones who weren’t killed would be scattered to the first rehabilitator or sanctuary who put their hand up, and no one would bother to check if they really had the room or the food or the funding.
Even knowing all that, the thing I kept seeing was Shim sliding the lens into his pocket, the ovoid outline it created in the denim.
I was imagining him pulling it out, handing it to Broder: “No fawn, but I did find this.” It could be happening now, and all I had for Shim were empty threats and a few impotent shadows.
I was left to wonder when my magic became so toothless—had it ever been strong enough to truly protect me, or had I been lying to myself all along?
I had no answers. I had no defenses. I had no time. I had just one thing now, and I’d left her in a thicket of thorns.
I walked back across the destroyed yard, the soles of my feet finding splintered dahlia stalks and crushed petals slick with mud.
The soaked fabric of my jeans dragged at me like a ball and chain, and for a moment I longed to strip down to my skin, to walk in the woods and simply keep walking until my body gave out.