Dark Series, The Color of Seven and The Color of Dusk (Books We Love Special Edition) (35 page)

* * *

Cain watched sunrise from the railings of the covered bridge
spanning
the Ocmulgee River down below Fifth Street.
After fleeing the clearing with Joshua’s determined shout ringing in his ears, he
’d
raced through the woods, back to the civilization of Wharf Street, back to the streets of the city proper.
He
’d
wandered those streets all night and now barely remembered his wanderings.

For years,
he’d
perched precariously on the border
lands between sanity and lunacy. A
megalomaniac of great power, secure in his strength, confident of his special gifts.
It was inconceivable
he could be l
ess than the
supreme being he envisioned himself to be
.
In his mind, the huge figure of the nightmarish thing he
’d
called forth
shrank and
modified until it was n
o
thing but a
larger version of the creatures
that
create
d
his sentries.

A
trick of the shadows, that was
it. That was
all.
And his followers, his acolytes,
had
dared to break and run fro
m
the
illusions.
Intolerable. Unacceptable.
Tonight at the clearing they’d
feel his wrath.
They
’d
never dare desert him again.
It did
n
’t cross his mind his
following was no more
. That no one would ever come
to
the
clearing
again
,
no matter how badly t
heir nerv
e endings
screamed for the artificial nirvana his concoctions dispensed.
Of course they’d be there. And they’d be so
sorry
they
’d
abandoned him.

Cain threw back his head and
laughed, startling
the pigeons
nesting i
n the rafters of the covered bridge
.
Rest.
He needed rest.
He turned and headed back to his rooming house
,
a great wolf returning to his lair.
He
’d
sleep the daylight hours through and this evening he
’d rise, refreshed. His
followers, the cowards, and their city, would feel his righteous wrath.

E
arly morning travelers on their way to work
fell back from h
is huge shadow as he passed
, sensing darkness in the strange light
glaring
from his eyes.
Cain
no longer
perch
ed
on the borders of sanity and lunacy.
He
’d
passed that border, never to return.
He was to
tally, hopelessly, irrevocably
insane.

* * *

Tamara
slept.
Everett
rested
as comfortably as possible in the back bedroo
m of the house on Orange Street under Janie’s supervision
. He
was clinging
ste
adfastly to Tamara’s explanation—Paul wasn’t
dead,
he was m
erely changed.
Sadie didn’t think
the full consequences of Paul’s change had
made an impression on Everett
yet but since he was coping with the situation
far better than she’d hoped,
she was grateful for any small crumb
falling her
way.

While those loved ones rested, Sadie implemented the first of the tasks she and Tamara had determined must be done.
She knocked on N
ona Gorley’s
door
. Nona came up behind her, almost startling her into a faint.

“Isaiah.
He made me spend de night wid our oldest girl.
Say he doan want me here alone.”
Nona sank down to her top step.
“Ain’t never worried ‘bout me spending de night alone,
never, not in thirty year,
do he need to be out with sick folks and such.
But dis time, he be right, didn’t he?
Dey ain’t coming back.
Is
dey?”

“Nona, I’s
so sorry.
An’
I can’t tell you everything—”

“I heard ‘em.
Whilst I was in the kitchen.
Talkin’ ‘bout
dat
man. D
at
debil spawn, whut he done?”

“He
goan
pay, Nona.
Isaiah, h
e
goan
be foun’ behind
de
c
hurch
. Sorta, anyway
,” Sadie explained
.
“An’
de
police,
dey
goan
think some crazy person did it.
An’
dey
ain
’
t never
goan
find out who.
But he
goan
pay.
D
oan
you worry none over
dat.”

Nona sat.
For a minute, Sadie was afraid the shock was too great.
Then Nona spoke, her voice strong.
“
‘
Ve
nge
a
nce is mine, sayeth the Lord.’
Dat’s whu
t Isaiah say.
But I ain’t near as good as Isaiah.
Mist’ Paul?”

“He ain’t never
goan
come home aga
in neither, Nona.
But his body ain’t never
goan
be found.”

“Is it over?”

“Not yet.
But it will be.
Tonight.
I promise you, Nona.
I promise.”

* * *

Back at the cottage, Joshua woke on Tamara’s bed.
Mid-afternoon by the light streaming in through the windows. The Blood Drinker had stalked his dreams. Paul.
What changes were going on, down there in the cellar Tamara had forbidden him to enter without her? And did he dare slip through the cellar doors to see?

Mind you keep dem doors closed tight. Doan crack ‘em, doan look, doan need to let in no mo’ light den can be hepped come daylight.
..
you doan go back down into dat cellar
…
.

Did he dare disobey?
If intruding light might hurt his brother, he shouldn’t risk it. If she was worried about any p
otential danger to Joshua,
Joshua didn’t give a damn.
And he’d move quickly and crack the door the bare minimum.

He slipped
into the cellar
through the barest crack po
ssible. He moved slowly, feet leaden, across the hard-packed dirt floor. His brother lay in exactly the same position they’d settled him in last night. But something was different. His bruised face was unmarked.
The huge cuts
on his chest
were—was he seeing things? No. The huge cuts were closing
as he watched, changing into white, ropey scar tissue.
And the gaping tears on his throat were completely closed. Closed as though they’d never been. Without a single marring scar.

* * *

Sadie returned
to the Orange Street house after her
sorrowful
visit to Nona
and the two sisters made the journey, yet again, to Tamara’s cottage
. They
arrived near
four
o’clock in the afternoon.
Joshua sat, carved of stone, at Tamara’s table.

Sadie
hugged him, pulling him hard against her body. He did
n
’
t return the hug.
“I killed
him, Mama. I killed
Paul.
But I’m
goan
kill Cain, too.
Tamara promised.”

Sadie looked over Joshua’s head toward her sister.

“
You and Paul, Josh.
You and Paul together.
Yes, I promise.”

“
I went in the cellar when I woke up.
I was real careful
.
No light got in. And t
hey’re gone
. All gone.
” said Josh.

“What, son?”

“The marks.
His face.
The bruises. Now his face is clear. The cuts, Cain cut him
so bad, Mama, and
now they’re just old
scars.
All white and raised, like the one on my leg where I fell on Miz Bennett’s picket fence when I was little.
And his neck, where the
Blood
Drinker, where it—it’s
gone.
It’s just gone.
Ain’t even no scar.
Nothing.
”

“Sadie.”
Tamara’s voice broke into the blackness of Sadie’s thoughts.
“Le
t Josh sit
.
Won’t be
dat
much longer ‘til
dark fall.
Got things to do.”

“You al
l
right, son?”
Sadie asked.

“Ain’t never
goan
be alright again,” Joshua stated flatly.
No. It wouldn’t.
There
being no
thing to say to that, Sadie dropped her arms and followed her sister out.

* * *

The three of them sat in
the cellar in
lantern light
vigil
by Paul while
twilight edged down over the lingering colors of sunset
.

“What’s
goan
happen?”
Joshua asked
.
“When?”

“Time gettin’ close, boy.
Real close.
We jest have to watch, can’t really judge without no windows.
But soon, now.
Real soon.

Heaviness hung in the air.
Joshua saw the blanket stir and moved closer, leaning over Paul’s body.

“Josh, doan do
dat
!
Go
an
take him a minute or two
, he ain’t goan know whut he doin’!
”

Paul’s eyes flew open.
His hand raised and flashed upward. He
caught Joshua by the throat and pulled him down.
Joshua stared at his brother’s mouth, at the sharp fangs replac
ing the
incisors
. He
offered no resistance.
If Paul needed
Joshua’s
blood,
it was his and welcome.

Tamara and Sadie, moving as one, grabbed Joshua’s arms from either side and pulled
.

“Paul!
No!”

H
e loosened his grip enough for them to pull Joshua away.
Tamara’s feet scarcely touched the floor as
she
flew to the supplies waiting at t
he ready. Her flock of chickens was sorely depleted.

P
aul sat up
.
He threw the blanket back
, his coordination jerky, and tried to rise. A man regaining consciousness after a severe illness.

“Hurts.
”
His voice mimicked the rough growl of an animal.
“Thirsty.
So
thirsty
!”
He
move
d
forward.

Tamara
li
fted the glass jar in her hands in offering.

“Drink!” she said.

Paul stared at its
ruby-red contents.
L
antern light reflected off the glass
in
jewel-like points of color.
His mouth
twisted into revulsion and
then, snarl
ing in an
ticipation
and despair, he grabbed it and
raised it
high
. L
ike a man lost in
the desert for three days,
he drained it dry.