Hawthorn (16 page)

Danny is asleep, ‘cept it’s not Danny, not really. They got Danny. They got Danny and it’s all my fault, all my stupid fault. I want to tell mummy but I’m scared. I can’t tell her what they did ‘cos then I got to tell her what I did, and I can’t do that. Instead I pretended to be sick like Danny so I could stay home, so I could fix it.

I watch the pretend Danny sleeping and my stomach hurts real bad because all I can think about is what they’re doing to the real Danny, my Danny, my little brother ‘cos I am bigger than him, older by three minutes, mum says. I should have protected him, I promised to protect him and I didn’t. I was mean and selfish and now he’s gone.

Then I have an idea, a real good one. I run to my room and find all my bestest toys and things. I empty out my toy basket of all the dolls and fill it with my favourite stuff and then I drag it to the smelly room. I open the wardrobe and call to Elsa. I tell her she can have all my favourite stuff, whatever she wants, as long as she gives Danny back. I wait but all I see is me. The mirror doesn’t change.

The mirror is just a mirror.

“I’m taking him to the hospital if he doesn’t wake up soon.” I pace the kitchen floor.

Jules watches me from her spot at the kitchen table. “He woke up, right?”

“He woke up but he just stared at me, he didn’t say anything.” I have this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach and I can’t explain it, but it is clearly dread.

“He doesn’t have a fever,” Jules says.

“Exactly, he should have a fever, it doesn’t make sense.” My mind is made up. I head for the hallway and my car keys dangling off the hook by the door, then I change direction and head up the stairs. I have to get Danny first after all. Jules joins me.

“Mary, calm down. Look, call the doctor in, I’m sure she could be here in a few minutes.”

“Seriously? You want me to call that…that superstitious freak? She’ll probably tell me that my son was out dancing with pixies all night and needs his sleep!” I storm up the stairs and into Danny’s room.

“Oh my god!” Jules pushes past me coming to kneel by his bed.

His skin is sallow, with a greenish tinge. Jules smoothes his hair back from his brow. “Get the car,” she says.

A few minutes later I am carrying Danny down the stairs, Jules hot on my heels. We are almost at the door when, “Mummy? Where are you going?”

Heather stands at the top of the stairs, her hair a tangled mess, Buster clutched to her chest. Jules and I exchange shocked glances. I can’t believe we almost forgot about Heather.

“I’ll stay with Heather,” Jules says.

“Or we could take her with us. I… I really need you with me, Jules.”

Jules nods and heads back up to Heather. “I’ll meet you in the car in a minute, strap him in.”

“Where are we going?” Heather asks again.

“The hospital,” Jules says. “Danny’s sick.”

Heather bites her lip then shakes her head. “There’s no point.” Her eyes fill with tears.

“Come on, honey.” Jules takes her elbow to guide her back to her room, but Heather shrugs her off.

“I’m trying to tell you, Danny’s gone. They tooked him and I helped them. It’s all my fault, mummy. I’m so sorry. That’s not Danny, not the real Danny. He tried to tell me, but I didn’t listen and the Darklings got him. They kept him, mummy, and I was too scared to stop them.”

She slumps to the ground sobbing, as if her heart will break, but I am too stunned to react because her words resonate within me. I sense their sincerity, their truth and I look down at Danny, asleep in my arms, and I see the cracks. Thin fractures like the grain on the bark of a tree. The eyes are knots, the hair is leaves and twigs and… Oh god. I drop him and he tumbles down the final steps and smashes into a thousand pieces.

Jules draws a horrified breath and screams and screams and screams.

We drive through the village of Learmonth, out to the bridge where Justin pulls over and parks.

“You think it’s a good idea to park here?” I ask.

“It’s the safest place. Running water, they can’t cross it. You won’t find one of them on a bridge.” He points to the railings. “Iron, it hurts them.” He falls silent.

I swallow, waiting for him to say something more, something about Jen. Instead he pulls out a pack of ciggies from his pocket and peels off the cellophane. He opens the packet and offers it to me.

“I don’t smoke.”

He looks at the packet. “Yeah, me neither.” He sighs and puts the packet back in his pocket. “I thought…after what happened. It’s what people do, right? They smoke, drink a shot of whiskey for the shock, or something.”

“You’ve been watching too many films.”

“Or not enough… I mean, Saturday night, that was…if it was a movie it would be a horror, you know, unsuspecting teens throwing a wild party that turns into an orgy which turns into a massacre.”

“It wasn’t a massacre.”

“Wasn’t it? You have any idea what went on after you left with…with that thing.”

Sam, he was referring to Sam.

“They fed on us like cuppa soups. I could feel it in the air, the pull, the allure, but I could see the truth. I don’t know why, maybe ‘cos I’ve danced with them before. I don’t know, but I saw them fucking and sucking the blood and life force out of us. I could see it shimmering in the air and sinking into them, and then I was scared, so scared for you. I came to find you and I found Jen. She was outside being fed on by this tall lanky thing like a human stick insect. I knocked it out and we ran, we came to find you, but we found your clothes first and then there you were with him and he was…oh god, he was on you.” Justin shakes his head and pulls out the pack of ciggies, turning it over in his shaking hands. “I saw those things take Jen, I saw them and I was a pussy, too scared to do anything. I cowered, Gem, I cowered up against the rocks, praying they wouldn’t see me. I let them have her.” He begins to sob softly. There is something terrible about those silent sobs. They top the loud gulping sobs every day of the week because they speak of a pain that runs too deep to be fully expelled.

I reach for his hand, clasping it tight. “You couldn’t have saved her, Justin. You would have gotten yourself killed.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, yes I do. I saw them close up, they were…terrifying and powerful and not of this world.” I bow my head, squeezing my eyes shut as the image of her face fills my mind. “She tried to save me. She could have run, but she tried to save me and that’s what got her killed. I got her killed. I should have cancelled the party. I should have listened to my fucking gut.”

We sit in silence for a long time, both lost in our own thoughts. What else is there to do? We can’t get her back, the dead stay dead. This thing, these creatures, are bigger than us. They are simply more and we are minute. I feel it in my bones, the new against the ancient; it would be a short, unsatisfying battle.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, pulling me from my thoughts. I lift my butt off the seat to slip my hand into my back pocket and pull out my phone.

It’s mum. I consider ignoring the call, but then remember that Danny is sick.

“Gemma, honey, you need to come home. Come home now.” It’s not mum, it’s Jules.

Her voice is calm, but I hear the slight tremor.

Oh god! Please don’t let anything have happened to Danny! “I’ll be there in five.” I hang up.

I turn to Justin, my fear reflected in my eyes. “Take me home.”

I am awake during the day. I can feel the sun even though my world is dark. I can’t help but flinch. I have to fix this. I have to protect my own. I can sense something terrible has happened. Shame’s words come back to haunt me. They have something of mine. I recall the bargain and my blood is ice.

Standing in the foyer of my home I conjure up my wreath of mistletoe and my crossbow. The rowan stakes nestle in my weapon belt. It’s time to get some answers.

The door opens for me and I run outside and into the woods. The sky is moonlight and sunshine, side by side. It hurts my eyes which are made for shadow, not the warm rays of yellow sunlight that lie across my new landscape like golden fingers. I step over them, clinging to the darkness and make my way deep into the sanctuary of the hawthorn woods. I come to the portal and step through and out into true night, all silver light and revelry.

They are celebrating, it seems. I’m not sure what the occasion is, but I’ve got a sick feeling that the joke’s on me.

I brush away the razors as they buzz around my face, eager for a bite. The little shits are vicious and, although some of the Darklings enjoy the pain, I’m not one of them. My arrival elicits a few giggles and a few sadistic smiles, but on the whole I’m ignored. Good. When I make my move they won’t be expecting it.

“They’re expecting it alright,” Trickster’s voice is in my ear, but his visage is absent.

“Don’t do that.”

He laughs, his insight into my thoughts is disturbing, but it’s one of his tricks, one he uses as a weapon. I wonder why he’s using it on me. I wonder what it is he wants off me.

“A place at your side, of course.”

I have no idea what he’s talking about. Before I can figure it out I see the boy, a babe, wide eyes, cheeks tear-streaked, and yet he sits in his cage suspended above the revelry, his jaw set in determination. There is courage in his frame and I yearn to hold him, to whisk him from this place but it is not my place to do so. This is our way. He isn’t the only one, there are others, older, faded in cages of their own, suspended from the same great hawthorn.

This boy is fresh meat.

They reach for him with claws and teeth snapping and snarling, sniffing. I close my eyes and inhale and I can taste the delicious aroma in the back of my throat, the scent of his soul.

His eyes scan the crowd and fall upon me and they light up like fireflies.

My gut clenches. Please, no…

“Mum! MUM!” He pushes his arms through the bars toward me, his face filled with hope and joy and I finally understand my loss. This is the boy, the boy that should never have been born. The son I promised to them, confident that I would never bear him. I take a step toward him, toward the cage and the tree from which it is suspended.

“She won’t give him up, not to a wraith.”

I lock eyes with the boy, try to communicate my determination. Try to give him hope.

“Cruel, so cruel.”

“Fuck off!” I hiss and then I turn and walk away.

I hear his wail of despair and it tears at my heart.

This is my child and I am powerless to save him.

I watch the doctor examine Mary. She is peaceful and serene in sleep. She takes her pulse and blood pressure, but it is as if she’s going through the motions.

Heather is curled up on the armchair, knees up, arms wrapped around her legs. She watches the doctor warily.

Finally, she sits back and snaps her briefcase closed. Her lips are pressed together, she looks annoyed.

“I think the best thing for everyone would be if you packed up your things and left.”

“Excuse me.” I honestly don’t think I’m hearing her right.

“I warned you to be wary of our ways, to respect them, and it’s obvious from the green bark in your foyer, and the state of your…your partner, that you did not heed my warnings. We’ve lived in relative peace with the little folk for as long as I can remember. They do not take what is not offered, what does not belong to them. But they can be tempted, and it’s obvious you’ve done something to draw their attention.” She stands and heads towards the door, stepping over what’s left of Danny. “This house, it has its history, but your family always seemed to understand what faith was required to coexist. I believed when you moved in that you would have done your research, but you haven’t, and now you’re in danger. You should leave.”

I want to scream at her, tell her she’s chatting shit, but the evidence of her words is sitting at the foot of my staircase. Danny is gone. They have him. I have no choice but to believe, so instead I grab her elbow. “Please, you have to tell me how to get him back. There has to be a way.”

She looks at me pityingly and it takes everything I’ve got not to smack her in the face. “There is no getting him back. I’m sorry, so sorry.”

She lets herself out the house, leaving me staring after her open-mouthed and empty.

I’m still standing there when the door opens and Gemma walks in. She looks down at the floor then up at me.

“What’s that?” she asks.

There’s a boy with her, Justin something or other. I recognise him from the other night.

“Jules?”

I look at the floor, at the green shattered bark. “That’s Danny,” I say.