Chapter 16: Rachael
By 7:00 the skies had become pitch black and Sam had lost consciousness again. They really were quite delicate these humans. I knew not only from my capacity to end lives so easily, but because living in corporeal form had taught me. I might be something a whole lot greater, but as long as I needed to eat, sleep, repair, I felt weaker than in my natural state. Sure, I healed faster, was infinitely more powerful, and barely required sleep, but the vulnerabilities still felt like they were weighing me down.
Perhaps that’s why it had been harder to hurt Sam as I had needed to. He had this inner strength I admired – even as I cut into him he was looking for ways to escape, trying to influence me to let him go, though never begging. I had heard a lot of begging, bargaining and pleading in my time, but not Sam. Poor Sam I caught myself thinking. I realized I was griping the steering wheel hard. I liked his soul. Maybe I could come back and claim it someday – if he lived. These feelings were not usual in my kind, in fact they were a distinct weakness and very unhelpful.
Poor Sam indeed! What had come over me, sympathizing for one of them? It would look bad enough that I left him alive. I really couldn’t understand that I had done that, and had left a message for Sabian to come and find him. If any of my peers found out I would never live it down. The last wraith that sympathized had a hellish time – literally – trying to make up for the shortcoming. Still, I had spared Sam as best as I could, but maybe he would still die from the wounds. Even though I cut as shallow as possible for maximum benefit, he might still bleed out. There was that hope. The fact I found myself liking the guy was abhorrent and made me want to retch as the sickly sweet feeling sat with me.
Even though I did like Sam, to be honest with myself, truthfully, Sabian was the investment. Blind faith, corruptible values, temperamental mindset and a blinding obsessive streak– A perfect mix.
As I drove up the winding and ever more country road I realized I was headed towards Sabian’s house – the one I had come to that fateful night Amber had convinced me to join her for her brother’s party. Strange how fate brings things together. One minute I was a weakling with no decent memory of who I was, where I was going, and the next I was finding myself all over again. For that I was thankful. If I had spent much more time mooching I may have just had to kill myself after all. Disgusting habit, self pity, and one I was grateful to have let go with my physical life so many years ago. How quickly 3,000 years passes. And yet, how slowly the last few weeks seemed to have crawled.
I could actually remember escaping after Uther severed my direct connection with the body. I could recall running, still feel the fear as Uther gained on me. How embarrassing – running from Uther. How glad I was that part of me had remained strong enough to still be able to fight him, to pull his head from his torso and walk away to leave him to rot. They all deserved to rot. Damned irritating do good protectors. Once they used to be just like us, like me, until they became all judgmental. That’s what happens when you get caught up in emotional connections with humans. No fucking good. You end up like Uther, headless and decaying in the sands somewhere south of nowhere.
Uther and I had actually been friends at one stage, well Rachael had been anyhow. He had been ‘working’ with a team of scientists on sleep disordered patients out in the desert – the idea being less disturbances and background sounds. The only place they could source though was the abandoned mine which they had converted underground areas of for the study of the patients sleeping and living habits. Rachael had been one of the patients, not that they had seemed to be able to help her at all. Uther had taken the job ‘undercover’ to source potential wraith hosts. The ones that slept poorly seemed to be able to see the other side more clearly, making it easier for us to take them. Uther was working, and had been for almost a century on means of detection, and trying to address sleep disorder sufferers symptoms to reduce the risk of habitation by my kind. A more passive approach to some of his counterparts. They usually just liked to find, slash and slay.…Just like how they got me in Mississippi 70 years ago. After that rueful experience I had willingly taken a break from this plain of existence to stay in my natural, more ghostly form, to regenerate and take time to reflect over what I wanted. But then, I was commissioned again, and since taking Rachael had had a nearly unmarred record of fulfilling tasks. I preferred to think of myself as being a more rogue candidate this time. Last time in Mississippi, I had worked as part of a team, which proved to make up much more easily detectable, and easier to circumvent. Too many Type A personalities working together meant other things too, jealousy, showing off skills, more lives than necessary had been lost to us, not that I minded the lives so much, but the attention drew us away from our core duties and into frequent affrays with the others – usually other Wraith like myself who worked for the other side now, or even worse, witches and half walkers who knew enough to see us, avoid us and warn others about us.
Half walkers I could almost overlook, as even if they saw us for what we really were, they rarely got involved in any harmful or irritating ways – only because they knew also the inherent danger of being stupid enough to try anything on one of us, let alone a group. Witches though, good, bad, or fence sitters, were nearly always painful. The good ones felt like they had to stand up for the grace of humanity, The bad ones always wanted to butt heads to try and prove their power, and the grey, the fence sitters were so irritating in their lack of commitments, it just made me want to throttle them out of principal. Still there was one Gray that had surprised me, a friend of Rachael’s though I doubt Rachael would have known what she was. Kitti – clearly short for something else, given her age. I could sense she had been around nearly as long as I had. I watched from the shadows one day as Kitti gave Rachael a ring. I had hissed in the dark expecting it to be something to protect her, but it had just been this piece of silver, inert, with the inscription ‘To Rachael, Stay cool’. Why she hadn’t stopped me from taking her I had never been sure of. She could have, or at least made it harder for me. Kitti had mumbled about not resisting fate, no matter the consequences…or something just as fatalistic. Anyhow, couldn’t say I hadn’t been grateful for the witch’s oversight there. Rachael was a perfect match. Another 20 year or so and I would have to start looking for another though.
As I drove to one of my safe houses to stock up on passports, tools, clothes, money and supplies, I kept thinking of the time I spent in the mine. Of Uther, me contorting in the chair, trying as best as I could to break free from the chains he had bound me with, the feeling of helplessness as he pressed a headpiece to my skull and ran a current of electricity through it after he forced me to swallow an herbal mix. There had been sigils, combination marks of runes designed to bring forth incantations and magic, all over the walls under my chair and then above me on the roof. That had kept me bound and unable to move until he had released me, believing me to locked away from Rachael’s conscience. He hadn’t known of course that he had wiped her mind at the same time. If there was even anything left of substance.
Flitting in and out of recollection, I could remember picking up the chair and smashing it over Uther’s back, freeing Jonah and holding him to me as I ran down the short tunnel into the daylight. I saw in my mind’s eye running, bare feet on the sand, throwing Jonah to the ground, the first blow to Uther’s head. Even Uther had given up trying to save me, and had fought to kill. I recalled managing to jump on his back, tear at his head….then walking with Jonah to the road in the hot desert sun.
We had found Uther’s car and drove it until it’s full tank of petrol ran out and it was dark again. I was so weak, so disoriented that when I had seen the small town police station, I had headed for it, but hadn’t stopped the car. I drove straight into the building, before climbing out of the car door, taking Jonah by the hand and continuing to walk down the road. There were a hundred people out of their homes in an instant of course, all watching in shock and surprise as the two of us just kept walking as if
on automatic pilot. I had known I was headed somewhere, needed to take Jonah there to be safe, and I knew in my gut I had to protect him, but had not known where, why or how.
The police, less than impressed, had called for an ambulance for us, called the fire brigade, but the car had been leaking what little petrol it had in it since colliding with the police station. In the rush of the flames and sirens a man in his sleep pants and slippers had snapped the two of us mid stride as ambulance personnel were trying to stop us.
I was pulled from my memories by the loud horn of an oncoming car. I straightened the wheel again and shifted my focus to the road. I still wanted to last the 20 years give or take this body had to offer. A head on collision wasn’t something I could likely fix all that well.
I recognized that I had just driven past Sabian’s turnoff, and I decided against my better judgment to stop off on the way to my next destination. I just had to send my regards. I smiled evilly to myself as I performed the worlds least legal U turn on the turn of a hill and doubled back.
When I pulled up outside the front of the house, there were three cardboard boxes filled with what looked like Sabian’s belongings. Curious. I had traded the black leather and red shirt, now drenched in dirt and blood for, shimmying green silk all in one suit. The pants clung to my legs before dropping to my red high heels. The low open neckline dropped past my breasts so they were hinted at on either side, while nothing was truly given away, and I had procured gold chains that lightly bounced against my chest as I got out of the car and strolled to the door. I rang the bell feeling every inch of the svelte perfection that I looked. I swept my hair out of my face and tucked it behind my ear as I heard a woman, Natasha, coming to the door.
As Natasha opened the door I noticed her blood shot eyes and reddened nose. She had been crying, crying while she packed up his stuff. Ah. So it really was finished for them.
When she saw me Natasha’s body became defensive immediately. She crossed her arms, pursed her lips and glared at me. It was kind of amusing. Given I knew I could tear her apart should I wish. But what was the point of shooting fish in a barrel. I smiled at her instead which caused the vein on her forehead to pulse and I could practically hear her teeth grinding.
“Hello Natasha. Long time no see.” A fake sweetness accompanied my words.
“Don’t you look different.” Natasha responded snidely.
“I’m just trying to keep up appearances,” I leaned forward and whispered for dramatic effect. “I’m really dying on the inside.” I loved this. I could almost hear her heart breaking, smell her anger towards me. It was delicious.
“I somehow doubt I could be that lucky.” Natasha’s face remained unchangingly serious.
Moving back to stand tall I became more firm. “No need to be nasty now, I just came to say hi to Sabian and leave him a token of my appreciation. Something to remember me by.”
“You should already know he doesn’t live here anymore – seeing as the two of you have become so close.” Infidelity. I loved he hadn’t shared any of his theories or assumptions with her. She had no idea, and still thought this was some kind of lovers tryst, or triangle. No sense leaving her tortured by that, especially since I could pain her with the possibility she had made a mistake – infinitely worse.
“I think you have misread the situation Natasha. He might be my type, but he never strayed from you. Don’t get me wrong, all the terribly divine things I thought about doing to him, for him….you don’t give him enough credit.” I smiled wickedly when I saw her fingers clench until they whitened on the doorframe. I was surprised she didn’t slam it in my face, but then the temptation to kick the door in and strangle her on the floor of her own home might have been too great.
Through gritted teeth she hissed at me and I knew it was time to leave before I went too far. “He chose you over me, isn’t that enough? You want to come here and gloat? Go roast in hell.?” I polished my nails on the material of my blouse, undeterred.
“You have no idea.” I smiled, and she blankly stared back at me. “Anyhow, lovely as it might have been catching up, I have to head off. Places to be, people to see – as they say.” I started to walk off the porch when she called after me.
“You said you wanted to leave him something. He’s coming by to pick up his things any minute now…He was supposed to be here hours ago….just put it with his things if you want.” I turned on my heel and produced a coin in my hand. I tossed it to her and she caught it just before it connected with her forehead. It had a Triskele, a three sided swirling pattern, on one side and a Rune marking for ‘wish’ on the other.
“Tell him I owe him one…..he’ll know what I mean.” With my last remark I resumed my path back to the car, climbed in and circled back out of her driveway. At least Sabian couldn’t say I didn’t follow the rules, I did owe him. He had offered me protection, assistance and money since I met him and I intended to repay him in kind, or at least however he wanted. My instincts told me that now he would know the truth, he would he would wish for something sensible, safe, like Natasha falling back in to his arms. I could imagine it now, he would wipe her mind of anything painful, take her away to Germany or wherever it was she romanticized about going and live the rest of his life trying to forget he aided and abetted an underling. A Wraith, a demon, whatever the language was of the time…
I sighed, I would kind of miss his unwavering adulation, curious obsession with me and enthusiasm about my ‘good’ nature. That’s another thing that amused me. Even though he would see me for what I really was, the fact I sent him to help Sam would confuse the heck out of him. The one last favour I would ask of him.
I did hope he got there in time. I had taken Sam’s car, then ditched it outside of the school Jonah was attending, so there would be no clear marker in the dark for Sabian to find. I wondered if, as Sabian pulled up, the utter darkness, and the fear of what might be waiting would cause him to turn around. Or perhaps his undying need to know would get the better of him and he would wonder into the dark with little else than the torch he kept in his glovebox to guide him with. He would pick through the grass and ruts in the earth, creep into the barn and by the light of the torch and not much else find Sam’s body hanging there. Dead or alive – only fate would say at this stage. Either way Sabian would throw the torch to the ground and cut Sam down with the knife I left there, then call the authorities, go with him in the ambulance. Then there would be the awkward explanation to the police. What would Sabian say I pondered. What would Sam say? Interesting. Assuming Sam even made it of course.
Of everything though, it bothered me most that there was still a loose end, and not Sam or Sabian – they could say whatever they wanted. What did get under my skin was that when I had tortured that dealer on Smith Street, I had hurt him in ways that usually made people spill every last detail, but he hadn’t, not about the location of the box. In the end, his heart had given way and I hadn’t had the chance to find out what he had done with it. After searching his shop and rummaging through everything, I hadn’t been able to find it. Not that it was the only one of it’s kind, but it bothered me that there had been one left near me, and I hadn’t had the chance to destroy it. Those stupid medieval devices had caused enough havoc with my kind over the last few centuries and we all dreaded being trapped by one. If we were trapped and God forbid buried or otherwise displaced we would remain conscious, but trapped in the tiny box of mirrors until someone opened it. Whoever opened it would automatically accommodate out presence in their body, but it could be an eternity before someone found us. That could drive any spirit mad. We had all decided, whenever one was found, for the greater good, we would have to destroy it, and I had let one sit on my coffee table, unknowing for days. Another thing I would have to live down. In the meantime, I was going to have a little fun with my downtime before working on my next project, and I thought a good place to start was going somewhere far enough away from here, somewhere cold. I was thinking Canada.
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