Trap Page 17

  The sky began to darken from gray to black, like someone turning down a dimmer switch. I dropped to my knees and tore at the back of the picture frame, snatching the photo from the shards. I gazed on the life I would never have and pressed it to my broken heart. My last cry came out a desperate whisper. “Finn!”

  And then the perfect world we could’ve shared faded to black.

  Thirty-Three.

  Blueberry Rhubarb

  I didn’t dream for the longest time. Whole blankets of dark nothingness stretched out before me, separating me from time and awareness. My arm started to burn, and the only thing I saw was the mark of loyalty Kabayo had given me. The swirling Xs lit up in a brilliant blue that awakened me from my muted existence.

  But that was all. I saw and felt nothing else. I was alone in my dark world, and though there was nothing to occupy myself with, the solitude felt like a warm blanket I couldn’t bring myself to part from. I rolled over on the floor of my mind and ignored anything that resembled reality.

  I’d been through too much, lived too many lives of war. My hands were coated in Finn’s slick blood, so I clutched them to my chest, feeling the crinkle of the photo paper I couldn’t let go of. I couldn’t see our faces of adoration, gazing into each other’s eyes, but I knew they were there. I knew a whole life had existed in some alternate plane, and I’d lost it all. I’d lost Finn forever, and when I awoke, I knew I would lose Von for all the reasons I should.

  The blood between my fingers was precious to me, so I clenched my fists to make sure I kept as much of Finn with me as I could. For all the handwashing I’d done in my life, I would swear off the obsessive habit forever if it would give me just a little more time with Finn.

  He’d loved me, and I’d let him die. The logical side of my brain argued that I couldn’t have known that Philip had installed that failsafe in himself. But looking back at the many conversations Philip and I had shared, the hints were there. What megalomaniac wouldn’t use a failsafe? My rational side was gentle with my ocean of pain, assuring me that there was no way I could’ve leaped to the reality of the situation from that logic.

  But I wasn’t logical, and holding onto Finn’s picture as tight as I was, I knew I wasn’t rational. I was in a world unto myself, drowning in guilt I knew I would never escape from. I shouldn’t have come to Finn’s country. I should’ve gone on my own, or taken a guide only so far. There was something in me I hadn’t been able to squelch that chased after Finn. Then as soon we finally caught each other, we were separated forever.

  I’m sure life was going on, and the world still spun, but I wanted no part of it. I’d killed the thing I loved. The world didn’t need me muddying up the place.

  So I stayed in my darkness, clutching the photo of Finn to my chest, and praying it was all a dream.

  TIME PASSED – I’M NOT sure how much, and the oddest thing about it was that I didn’t care. I felt my body being jostled at one point, nose flooded with the barn-ish smell of Kabayo intermingling with the ocean.

  I clung to my photo, my fingers locking when someone or something tried to pry my hands open. I screamed and protested when the picture fell away from me as a wet rag swept over my hands, taking Finn away from me forever. I wondered if my protests were only in my mind. Perhaps my physical body was compliant with whatever fate had left to dole out in punishment for my many, many sins.

  I searched for the picture, but as I suspected, the second I let go of Finn, he disappeared. I cursed myself for tripping over the entrance, pitching forward and dropping his hand. Maybe if I hadn’t, he’d still be here with me.

  I heard a jumble of voices – explaining and then shouting. I heard the ocean, and then cars. More shouting.

  I wanted no part of it – any of it. I wanted to sleep without Philip, without Finn, without Mason and even without Von. For once in my life, I held tight to my solitude, not letting anyone infiltrate it.

  The abyss was my very best friend, muting all that I couldn’t face with my precious darkness that kept me warm. When I felt my body being shifted, I clung to the darkness, fighting with everything in me not to understand the voices that were aimed in my direction.

  I didn’t want to hear any of it. I wanted to be alone, so the darkness was where I stayed.

  I DON’T KNOW WHY I let Mrs. Brady’s can-do chipper voice infiltrate my solitude, but suddenly there she was. She sat next to me in the darkness, lit by her sunny personality and all the parenting goodness she emanated even without a script.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked her, sitting up for the first time in... I’m not exactly sure.

  She shrugged, her hair perfectly coifed. She wore a cheery orange dress with a row of white sunshines decorating her slender waist. “What are you doing here?” she echoed.

  I glanced around at the darkness that had become the best thing in my life. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m done. I’m not going back to that mess. This is my home now.”

  Mrs. Brady looked around, appraising the nothingness. “I’m not sure this is fit to be anybody’s home. Don’t you want to go back to your life? Even with the bad spots, it’s got to be better than this.”

  I shook my head and gathered my knees to my chest. Part of me felt a little bad that Mrs. Brady was sitting on the floor. I mean, I was a kid, but she was a lady, lowering herself so I didn’t have to hide alone. Mrs. Brady was good like that. “I don’t belong there. I keep breaking people.”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing a little pie won’t fix. Alice told me she’s whipping up something good for you right now.”

  I sighed dejectedly. “Thanks, but you’re not real. You probably shouldn’t be here. This isn’t really your scene. I’m like, nine kinds of depressed right now, and no amount of pie can fix that.”

  “Not even blueberry rhubarb?” Her smile was always chipper and kind. It made me want to rally one in return, but I couldn’t muster a good enough representation.

  “Not even blueberry rhubarb.”

  Mrs. Brady stood, her knee-length dress never creasing. I don’t know how she did it. “Well, I tried. The next guy isn’t as pleasant as I am. I don’t think he’s baked a pie in his life.”

  “You can tell whoever the next guy is that I’m not interested. I like this world best. There’s nothing I can break here, no one I can kill.”

  “Suit yourself. I’ll save you a slice of pie, in case you change your mind.”

  I waved her off, feeling a pang of guilt that I’d dismissed Mrs. Brady like she was an equal to me. She was light-years above me in every way, but I just couldn’t take the cheer-up smile that only depressed me further.

  My chin lowered to rest on my knees that were still clutched to my chest. I didn’t think I could feel any lower, but there we were.

  I’d let down Mrs. Brady.

  Thirty-Four.

  Chainsaw and Chin

  I sat in the darkness, hugging my knees as I replayed Finn’s last moments, then Mariang’s, then Bishop’s, and then September’s. My love was toxic, so I knew it was best for the world that I stayed locked up. My mind was the perfect prison, and I accepted my punishment with grace, knowing I deserved every bit of it.

  “I thought your mind would be more adventurous, that there’d be more to do here. This is it? This is all there is? We gotta get out of here, sweetheart.”

  Despite the fact that I wanted to be alone, my head jerked up in surprise at the voice I’d heard no less than a zillion times. A sudden beam of stage light shown down on the man sitting next to me, illuminating his cocky can-do attitude and the best chin of my life. “Bruce Campbell? What are you doing here?”

  He was older than he’d been in Evil Dead, but no less glorious. Hints of salt and pepper brushed back from his temples, and the boyish playfulness in his eyes enraptured me as it always had. “What am I doing? I’m boring myself to death, I guess. Really? This is your imagination? Where’s the tree fort? Where are the fast cars? Give me a blank canvas like this, and I’ll do somethin
g crazy with it.”

  “I bet you would, but this is my world, and I’ve had enough crazy.” Bruce Campbell was the shiz, and this was the best I could offer, as far as a shared adventure went. I was ashamed.

  He waited a whole five seconds before letting out an exasperated sigh. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go dig a tunnel and see how far down this thing goes.” He stomped his boot to the black floor.

  “You’re not real, and I don’t have a shovel.”

  Bruce’s face soured, his chin dimpling in time with the space between his eyebrows. “Of course I’m real! I would never say something so mean to you.”

  I picked at a thread on the knee of my jeans. “You know, I used to think that you were my guardian angel. That if you could fight the evil dead, the army of darkness and all that, somehow I could make it through a normal day. Now I’m not so sure.”

  Bruce held up his hands and shook his head. “Oh, no. Don’t blame this place on me.”

  I glared at him. “Well, if you don’t like it, then you can leave.”

  “I don’t believe this.” Bruce stood in frustration, offered his hand to me and yanked me up. “This isn’t how I raised you to be.”

  I looked around incredulously. “Um, you didn’t raise me. I don’t even know you in real life.”

  “How many of my movies have you seen? TV shows? Didn’t you do a paper on my autobiography for your great American hero assignment? I raised you better than this.”

  I think it was when he slapped the back of his hand into his left palm that I started to smile. The upward turn of the corner of my mouth felt foreign to my features, but I couldn’t help it. Bruce Campbell always made me smile. He had that way about him that charmed me every time. “Whatever. You couldn’t pick me out of a lineup of two.”

  “So what? Do you think Ash would’ve rolled over and taken a nap when the Candarian demons started attacking?” He waited for my answer, his arms crossed over his chest. “That wasn’t a rhetorical question. Would you have watched that movie if I wussed out in the second act?”

  I hugged my middle and hung my head glumly. “No. I guess not. But this is different. This is reality. I’ve buried too many people. I need a break.”

  “Then go watch the friggin’ Brady Bunch.” He shook his head in disgust. Part of me felt the deep shame that Bruce Campbell had finally shown up in my dream, and I was blowing it all over the place. “You’re losing your fight, and that’s not you. Only one way to fix it.”

  I lifted my chin and raised my eyebrow, waiting for his miraculous cure. My body jumped back when he pulled a chainsaw out from the darkness that was somehow already wet with blood. “What are you doing?”

  “Giving you a head start because I’m a nice guy. You want to stay here? You’re gonna have to fight me for the space. You may’ve given up on you, but I haven’t.”

  I cast him a dubious look as I backed away slowly. “You’re not going to chase me with that chainsaw.”

  “Well, first I’m going to chase you, then I’m going to catch you. Then you die. So either wave your white flag now, or start running.”

  “Put that thing down.”

  Bruce’s eyes were wild, as I’d seen hundreds of times before when he got super passionate in a scene. He had the best crazy eyes. “You want a life worth going home to? Then you have to fight for it, sweetheart!” He pulled back the string on the chainsaw, starting up the rickety engine on the first try.

  I’d expected nothing less from my own personal superhero.

  Bruce took a bold step toward me, raising the chainsaw to shoulder height.

  I knew that look in his eyes. He wasn’t stopping for nothing. I’d seen him cut off his own hand with that very chainsaw. Dude wasn’t messing around.

  I shrieked and ran through the darkness, wishing I’d taken Mrs. Brady up on that pie. More unnerving than the roar of the chainsaw was that while I was running with everything in me, Bruce was walking, his footsteps somehow echoing around me in time with my pounding heart.

  I searched for something – anything to hide behind, but Bruce traveled with his own spotlight, so wherever I hid, I was revealed whenever he got close. “Stop it! Just let me be alone!”

  “Oh, you’ll be alone, but you’ll also be in pieces.”

  I was furious as I ran, that this was the best my imagination could give me when Bruce Campbell showed up in my dream. “You’re a jerk! I’m allowed to grieve, you know. I’m allowed to be sad.” My muscles started to feel the exertion, but I didn’t slow down.

  “Nobody’s stopping you from being sad. I’m telling you that the world’s still moving out there, so staying here’s not an option. Checking out’s not an option. Donating your hands to science? That, I can help you with.”

  I screamed as I ran through the nothingness, not seeing anything, but feeling a breeze that started to grow colder. “Leave me alone!”

  “You’re already alone!”

  His words hit me like a ton of obvious bricks. I was alone. I was fighting and running and hiding not just from the horrible things, but from the good things as well. I was running from Ollie, who didn’t deserve that. By giving up on myself, I was giving up on Allie, who needed me even if I was broken. I was running from Ezra, from Mason, from my friends who, flawed as they were, loved me each in their own ways.

  I was running from Von, who’d earned the chance to tell me off once and for all.

  I was running from myself, but no matter how far Bruce Campbell chased me, I would always have me – for better or worse.

  “Okay! Okay, I’ll go back! Just put the chainsaw down!”

  The cold breeze started to slow my muscles, growing arctic and painful. A needle-like chill infiltrated my skin and started to seep into my bones, rendering my body clumsy, and not fit for a chase. I stumbled, tripping over my own two feet. I held my arms out, bracing myself for the fall, but steady hands caught me before the floor did.

  The noisy chaos of the chainsaw was gone, and I found myself righted by my superhero who had like, the best chin in the whole world. He looked down on me with something akin to pride and gave me half a smile – which as it turns out, was just enough. He released me, chucked my shoulder and said, “See? Told you I was real.”

  I let out a short laugh, but it was marred by the cold that swirled through me. With rapidly stiffening arms, I reached up and looped my hands around his neck, squeezing him tight to thank him for the tough love. I silently begged him not to leave me when I returned to my life, and it all fell apart. “Tell me it gets better.”

  “Candarian demons haven’t killed me yet. I’ve got high hopes for your ending, too.” He wrapped his arms around me, and somehow that simple motion gave me just enough of my bearings to hold my head up, no matter how grim my ending turned out. He gave me another tight squeeze, flooding my icy limbs with optimism I needed at least one of us to feel. “You did good, kid. Now go on home.”

  Thirty-Five.

  Wasting his Love on Me

  The ice in my veins wasn’t unfamiliar, but it was painful. The first sound I heard when the world started coming back to me with all its lights and colors was my own scream – not a totally reassuring sound that I’d made the right choice.

  “It’s working! I knew it! I’m here, love. Don’t worry. We just had to do something to wake you.”

  I winced at the leap from total darkness to too many lights and sounds. My eyes squinched shut as the ice tore at my insides, raking a path along my ribcage that froze me in my supine position.

  “Take the corroded soul out slowly,” I heard Ezra command Von. “Work in layers, otherwise you’ll put her under all over again. We need her awake, even if she’s in pain.”

  It was as if the cold was being peeled back like single pages from a notebook, not giving me much relief as I shouted incoherently.

  Von’s hand was warm, spreading heated honey through my arm that slowly trickled into my torso, taking over the real estate the ice had claimed. Mason’s grip on
my other hand was reassuring, letting me know that no matter where I ran, they would come for me.

  It was incredible, and I didn’t deserve it. “No,” I protested, trying to slide my hand out. The pain was my penance, and I wouldn’t beg out of it.

  “It’s me, October! You’re safe here. We’re in the hospital, and everything’s going to be alright.”

  More warmth. More honey. More love that only made me feel sick inside that someone so wonderful was wasting his love on me. Two someones I didn’t deserve.

  When I was sat up, I found myself in the same hospital room as Allie. Through the too many bodies jammed into the space, I could see her still lying motionless in her bed. She’d done nothing wrong, but I was the one who got to live. I couldn’t think of a worse injustice.

  I STAYED AS QUIET AS I could throughout the examination performed by too many doctors and nurses, answering the bare minimum and staying in the bed while my limbs tried to figure out what the crap was going on. Ollie, Mason, Levi, Ezra and Von stayed with me throughout, asking plenty of questions that I didn’t care about the answers to.

  “A coma?” I asked in disbelief. I fiddled with the thin blanket that covered my lap. The hospital gown was drafty, but I welcomed the discomfort of the chill. “Are you sure?”

  “For a week,” Ollie confirmed. He had a haunted look in his eyes, his hair was sticking up in the back and he smelled like he hadn’t showered in days. He was sitting in the chair next to my bed, leaning forward to face me with his elbows on the edge of my mattress.

  “Oh, Ollie. I’m sorry!” My heart broke for my brother who’d buried his mother and had to watch both his sisters lie lifelessly in the same hospital room. I was encumbered by an IV sticking out of my hand, but somehow I managed to hug him when he stood to grip me.

  Ollie’s rare display of tears fell into my hair, his words coming out angrily through gritted teeth. “Don’t you ever put me through that again! You left in the dead of night, and no one knew where you’d gone! Then you come back half dead? I don’t deserve that!” His hug shook my body so I could feel his frustration with the cards I’d dealt him.