Dirt (The Dirt Trilogy) (18 page)

“
Taylie?’
“This is Taylie.”
I pause for a response, uncertain of what to say. I’m going to

shock the crap out of her and that
’s all there is to it.
“Who is this?”
“Taylie, it’s me, Ashe.”
“This can’t be Ashe. She’s dead! Who is this? Why are you

calling me?
” She becomes hysterical and then I hear a dial tone.
“That didn’t go so well. She freaked out and hung up.”
“My car may still be at my house. We can walk there if we go

through the woods. I can
’t take the risk of anyone seeing me.” We
wait for the sun to set before we venture out. We don’t use
flashlights to limit the risk of being noticed.

The moon glows over every bit of moisture that glazes the
forest. I’ve walked through these woods many times before without
a care in the world. I’m always at peace with my surroundings here,
a peace that soaks me to the bone, a peace that makes me glad to be
in Montana, a peace that makes me glad to be human, when I
thought I was human. Now, as I weave in and out of the paths of the
trees and brush, I sense the presence of evil following me with
blood shot eyes of loathing.

“
What?
I’m
fine,”
I
respond
attempting
to
hide
my
apprehension.
“I can sense a fear building in you.”
I stop in my tracks. I jerk away from his grip and look at my
hands as if they’re some kind of lethal weapon. I realize that
whatever I’m feeling can kill him. “I’m sorry, I forgot. I would
never forgive myself if I hurt you.”
He reaches for my hand and gently puts it back into his. His
palm is warm and soft. “You’re not going to hurt me. Remember, I
have the gift of resistance. We’ll have to see how much I can
resist.”
“It’s not worth the risk,” I tell him.
“I would risk everything to touch you. I can’t live my life
without being able to feel. Holding you makes me alive. It reminds
me how real we are,” he says slowly, gracefully tracing his finger
from the soft part of my wrist, down my palm, marking his path to
the tip of my finger. A sensual warmth covers me.
I smile. “I love you,” I say.
“I know.” His eyes glisten along with the dampness of the
forest.
“We better catch up with your brother. He looks like he’s
wandering.” Coll is ahead of us and has no idea where he’s going.
We pick up our pace. “This way,” I say as I move ahead still
sensitive to a foreboding feeling of evil lurking in the trees.
After about an hour of walking we make it to my house of
ashes. My car and Dad’s truck are gone. The shed is empty.
Nothing’s left except for some yellow tape surrounding the area,
reading“Crime Scene. Do Not Enter.”
I tread through the charred remains of my home and find a
picture of my mother scorched around the edges lying underneath
some metal sheets that barely survived the blaze. I pick it up, black
soot
covering
my
hands. Smoke has
taken
its toll on the
photograph, fading the beautiful eyes that used to graciously look at
me.
“What is it?’ Rowen asks. I hand him the picture. “Nuin,” he
says.
I nod.
“Where is the serum?” Coll paces around the yard.
“It should be buried in this area here,” I point to the edge of the
yard, close to the forest wall. “I’m not sure exactly. I never really
paid much attention to where Dad dug,” I say thinking I probably
should have.
We have nothing to use to dig.“Let’s head back to the Birches
and we’ll try and get Taylie. I don’t know what else to do.” I agree
with Rowen. We don’t have any other choice. We have to be as
inconspicuous as possible. No one can to know I’m alive. I’m better
off dead. At least, it’s better for everyone to think I’m dead.
We make it back to the house. I try to think of a way to keep
from upsetting Taylie.
As the phone rings, I feel the anticipation of Taylie’s reaction.
“Taylie, Taylie, don’t hang up.”
“Who is this?” she says her voice shaking.
“It’s me. It’s really me, Taylie.” There’s nothing, but sudden
silence. “Taylie? Taylie? Are you there?”
“Ashe….is it really you?” she whispers.
“It’s really me. But you can’t tell anyone I’m here. You can’t
say a word to anyone. Not even your parents.”
“Where are you?”
“We are at the Birches.”
“We? Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“Come over as soon as you can. But Taylie, don’t tell anyone.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
I know Taylie will keep her word, but I’m worried she might
freak when she sees me. There’s no easy way to do this.
About thirty minutes later the doorbell rings. I open the door
and Taylie gets weak at the knees and all color runs from her face.
She’s about to go down when Coll comes out of nowhere, catching
her, breaking her from the fall.
“You’re alive. What happened? Where have you been? And
who is this?” she says as she looks up and catches the steel blue of
Coll’s eyes. She gathers her strength after a brief moment of
discombobulating surprise. Coll helps her to her feet, never saying a
word. Rowen stands behind me. “What’s going on?”
“Sit down, Taylie.”
Coll leads her down two steps into the den and then to the
couch. Her bewilderment gives her an intoxicated appearance.
“This is Coll, Rowen’s twin brother.”
Taylie tries to absorb the surrealistic news that I’m alive. I
don’t think she really understands it all. I don’t understand it all.
“Ashe, this is all a bit much.”
Coll watches Taylie, almost gawking, never saying a word. I
know Taylie is beautiful, but Coll always acts as if he’s beyond
that, beyond anything human. He’s out of character, at least the
Coll I know.
Rowen and I explain everything that’s happened: Straif, The
Dark Thorn, who I am, who my mom was and where she came
from. We tell her everything. Taylie sits motionless on the couch
trying to reach beyond unbelievability.
“So, what happens now?” she asks.
“We need your help.”
“Of course.” She doesn’t hesitate, even after everything she’s
heard.
Rowen explains to her that the serum is necessary to keep me
alive and he and Coll need it while they’re here. “Without it she’ll
die, well, more like disappear.”
“Where’s the serum?”
I’m surprised how well Taylie is holding up. She is accepting
all of this better than I did, but then again, she isn’t being hunted.
“Buried in the backyard at my house.”
Taylie starts to giggle. “What’s so funny?’’ I can’t believe
she’s laughing.
“Your dad. He’s not so crazy after all.”
“No, I guess he isn’t,” I say as I give her a big hug. She holds
on for a minute.
“Don’t ever do this to me again,” she whispers in my ear
squeezing me tighter.
“Never again. I promise.”
“Everyone thinks you and your dad are dead and they think he
killed you.” She points to Rowen.
“Why
would they
think that?
No one
here
Rowen.”
“W…w…well, probably because of me. After
burned down, I told them he was stalking you, so I gave them his
description. They did a sketch. They’re looking for him. I’m so
sorry. I didn’t know. I thought you were dead, too. I thought he
killed you.” Regret fills the spaces between her words.
“It’s alright, Taylie.”
even knows

your house
“We’re
going
to have
to be
really
careful. We
can’t
be
discovered. We need to retrieve the serum, but we’ll have to do this
at night,” Rowen says. “How soon can you take us?”

“
Tonight. I’ll give my parents some excuse. Don’t worry. I’ll
be here.”
Taylie gives me another squeeze as she walks out of the door.
“See you tonight. Thanks so much for helping us,” Rowen says
standing behind me as we walk Taylie out. Coll stands in the back
of the room, silent and out of his element.
“Nice to meet you, Coll,” she says peeking around me. He nods
awkwardly in response to her subconsciously flirtatious tone.
“See you at sunset.”

She picks us up as the sky turns pink and the Montana air
develops the sharp edge of a cooler breeze. We take shovels from
the Birches’ shed and a few empty boxes in which to place the
muck along with a couple of flashlights. The ground is still wet
from an earlier rain. I have a vague remembrance of Dad digging on
the north side of the yard so that’s where we start looking. Coll and
Rowen move dirt like it’s nothing. Even though the ground is soft
from a rain days earlier, I make no real difference in the process.
Most of the time, I watch Rowen, admiring every piece of him.

I
’m a little worried because I haven’t had muck for a couple of
days and I might start dissipating soon. Coll and Rowen will start to
age. We have to find something. As they dig, I see the vapor from
the warmth of their breath touching the midnight air with the
slightest elegance.

In the midst of it all, I get a strange foreboding someone is
watching me. An unsettling feeling, how you would feel when you
are about to go into the dentist’s office whom doesn’t numb you up
and you know it’s going to hurt. The air is thick. I don’t know if the
memories of Durt make Darby seem less fresh and wholesome, but
something isn’t right. My skin tightens as my eyes follow the edge
of the yard that meets the national forest. This feeling of discomfort
continues to grow. I feel as if my nerves are being removed from
my body, one strand at a time, and being knitted into a sweater. I try
to focus on finding the muck.

Taylie keeps an eye out as we continue searching. After a
couple of hours of digging, Coll hits something in the ground. A jar
of muck burst as it meets the shovels edge. “Careful,” Rowen says,
but beside it are several more jars. We load them up and head back
to the Birches. Rowen and Coll are tired. So am I, even though I
haven’t done much to contribute.

When we get back to our temporary residence, Rowen and Coll
bury the muck in the Birches immaculate backyard among all of the
flowers and florathat doesn’t normally grow in Montana. I guess
leprechauns have green thumbs along with red hair. The nights are
getting colder and the leaves starting to fall. Still, their yard goes
beyond nature.

After our tiring night, Taylie and I go into the kitchen to make
popcorn and drinks along with our dose of muck, things Coll has
never had. The guys take showers while Taylie and I catch up on
things.

“
You look different somehow, Ashe.”
“Different? I don’t look different.”
“Yeah, you do. You look happy.”
“It’s been crazy. One minute I’m living in Montana going to

college. The next, I
’m fighting for my life in world unlike anything
I’ve ever known. Finding out I’m not who or what I thought I was.
And, well, then there’s Rowen. He’s the best thing that’s ever
happened to me. He’s
had to give up everything
for
me.
Everything.”

“
What do you mean?”
“In Durt, he’s held in high esteem. He was chosen at five years
old to be my protector, a sentry. They have a vow of celibacy; a
vow to never be in a relationship.”
“That sucks.”
“He’s given up everything to be with me. He’s been exiled
from his brethren.”
“His what?”
“His brethren. The group of sentries he was bound to. Now, he
really has no home.”
“He has you, Ashe.”
“I hope he doesn’t wake up one day and look at me and realize
I’m not worth all of this.”
“He never would have given up everything unless he was
getting more than he had. He loves you. He chose you. Now, get
over it.”
It’s nice to sit and watch TV. Coll is out of his element. His
idea of the human world seems to be changing. Although there’s a
sharpness in his voice
at times, his angry
edge
has
dulled
somewhat.
As Rowen and I sit on the couch watching
Casablanca
, Coll
sits on one side of the room and Taylie on the other. Awkward.
Taylie has never been awkward with guys, never, but Coll is no
ordinary guy.
There’s still a part of me that’s agitated, unsettled.
“What is it?” Rowen asks.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Liar,” he whispers loud enough for me to hear.
“Okay, I’m not fine. I don’t know what it is. Maybe, I’m
worried about Dad. Or finding more muck.” I don’t divulge to him
that I thought we were being watched. I don’t tell him I was totally
creeped out while we were digging.
“We’ll find more. We’re just getting started. And Henry is
exactly where he needs to be. He’s doing what has to be done.”
“I don’t know. I have a feeling something is wrong.”
“Stop worrying. Everything is fine.” He presses his lips against
my forehead and then glues his eyes on Humphrey Bogart. His arm
wraps around me like a shawl molded for my body.
It’s three in the morning, Taylie has gone home. Coll is asleep
in one of the guest rooms, and Rowen is sound asleep. I stare at the
ceiling. I can’t sleep. A vision of my mother with a tall blond guy
keeps resurfacing in my mind. She’s holding his hand, as they talk.
“You can’t go back,” the young man says to her.
“But I have to. I love him.”
“You can’t love him. He’s merely human. Stay here with me
and be my wife. There is nothing there for you. You won’t survive
it. You belong here.”
The voices sound so near, and yet, unreachable.
She pushes his hand out of hers gently, but with insistence. “I
have to go back to him. I...I...I’m with child.”
“You’re what?” he yells at her as he steps back. “You’re
pregnant with a human’s child? Do you know what this means?”
“I have to go,” she says and she runs from him leaving curtain
of despair and worry.
He looks vaguely familiar. I know I’ve seen him somewhere
before. It troubles me that I can’t figure it out. Maybe it’s a memory
given to me by the cube. It all makes me rather uncomfortable. I
love the gift Ivy
gave
me, but sometimes the
memories are
disturbing. She told me there would be good recollections along
with bad. The fact that I don’t understand them causes frustration.
I don’t want to disturb Rowen so I lift his arm from around my
waist and sneak away.
I get a glass of water, something to settle me down. As I stand
over the sink filling my glass, I take in a few deep breaths while
looking out of the picture window providing a perfect view of the
backyard. The moon shines over the lawn, dancing on each dewcovered leaf, embracing them. I remember the times I watched my
Dad toiling in our yard with his shovel. Those were peaceful days. I
was ignorant to everything then. If I’d only known before what all
of his efforts meant. He was trying to protect me. How many people
could tell their own child that at age eighteen they would be hunted
or vanish? It had to have been so hard for him.
A sudden burst of cold shoots through me when out of the
stillness a dark shadow floats across the backyard; a smooth,
elegant movement of black that isn’t supposed to be there. I put my
face up to the glass to see if there’s something there or if I’m
imagining things.
The warmth of my breath leaves its fog mark on the freezing
window pane. Without forewarning Straif’s face meets mine. He
looks straight at me with an evil, yellow tainted smile filling the
pane.
“AHHHHH! Oh my God!” I yell waking the house. Straif is
gone in a split second.
“What’s wrong?” Rowen is in the kitchen by the time I turn
around. My heart beats so hard it hurts and I try to catch my breath.
Coll, rubbing his eyes, follows in right behind him,“What’s
going on?”
“Str...Stra...Straif. He’s here.” I can hardly get the words out.
“Impossible,” Coll says.
“You’re seeing things. Your imagination is getting the best of
you,” Rowen says placing his hands on my shoulder.
“I’m not seeing things. It’s not my imagination. He’s here.
Why is that impossible? Bran was here when all of this began. Both
of you are here. So, Straif could be here too.” I’m abashed even
though I know what I saw.
Coll wears dubiety. “Straif would never risk himself coming
here.”
“But the serum was stolen from Ivy’s. He probably has it. He
has what he needs to be here. We didn’t see him riding with The
Thorn. So, he must have come through the portal before us.” They
begin to reconsider their doubt.
“He isn’t going to give up on getting Ashe. He wants her more
than anything,” Rowen adds running his hand through his hair
trying to make sense of it all while pacing the floor.
Suddenly, Rowen and Coll look at one another as if they’ve
been discovered with live bombs in their pockets. Rowen bolts out
of the back door and Coll is right behind him. I follow. Rowen
kneels down and peers into the unearthed graves of muck. “He’s
taken it.” We only had a small supply and we couldn’t afford to
lose another drop. I’m not losing my mind after all, but now we
have bigger problems. He’s taken all we’d found.
“He must have slipped in through the portal before us. Ruis
stood there watching us walk through the doorway knowing Straif
was here.” Rowen picks up a handful of fresh loose dirt and
watches it fall grain by grain through his fingers.
Coll pats him on the shoulder. “We’ll get more tonight.”
“And I will guard it with my life,” Rowen says.
We go back to bed and I lie there staring at the ceiling. All of
this is my fault. Again, everything about who I am hurts everyone I
care about. It has been a horrible day. Sometimes I think it would
be best if I went to sleep and never woke up.
I turn to Rowen. I study each line of his face, each curve. I
realize
waking
up will
be
another
day
with
him, and that’s
something I’ll never give up freely.
My
mother’s memories continue
to resurface. I
see
her
standing in a field of lush grass with blades brushing up against her
slender calves, the wind touching her hair enough to brush it away
from her face, the sun painting her skin with hues of peach and
bronze. Standing beside her is the beautiful blond man I’d seen in
previous memories, his face still haunting me with familiarity. Déjà
vu deluges me. The sun gleams against his skin giving him a rich
glow on his smooth complexion. His lips arched slightly at the edge
attempting
a
smile, but something
sinister
lurks
beneath his
expression.