Sorceress' Blood (6 page)

Rebecca pulled off to the side of the road and turned the engine off.

“What’s going on?” Ashley asked.

“We’re just stopping for a while. I need to rest.”
Rebecca sat back in her seat and closed her eyes. Ashley let her head
fall gently against the window and let herself be taken by
unconsciousness. A visit to the Land of Nod. Rebecca soon followed
suit.

Dawn came at an early hour the next day. The sun rose over the empty
horizon and spread its light over an uninteresting little silver
sedan, parked at a rest stop along the highway. It was the sort of
car you could easily go by without ever really seeing it. Rebecca
awoke to the first rays of the sun striking her eyes and piercing her
sleep, pulling her from a bleak, dreamless rest. When Ashley woke a
full half hour later, Rebecca was sitting outside on the front of the
car. Her face was thoughtful but her mind was drifting through a
random collection of concepts, giving each less than a second at the
front of her thoughts and then passing on. She could think of as many
things as she wanted like that without ever having to think about a
thing. Mostly she just didn’t want to think about what she was
going to do today. Ashley stared at her with the disorientation of
having just woken up and for a second she didn’t know who
Rebecca was or where she was. Then it all came back to her, much the
way horrible realisations always do: she gave a heavy sigh, breathing
out all hope of happiness. Rebecca noticed that Ashley was awake and
looking at her. She slid off the car and opened her door.

“Morning,” Rebecca said. She didn’t bother to offer
the patronisation of a feigned smile to the little girl. She didn’t
even go the measure of saying it was a good morning. That morning
wasn’t a good morning. Ashley nodded.

“No cars have passed us,” Rebecca started. She waited
for a response but when she got none, she went on. “None at
all. That means if they’re looking for us, they’re
looking the wrong way. We’re safe.” There was a distinct
lack of optimism in her voice.

Neither of them had a smile in them and silence had started to flood
the air between them. Ashley had no words for anyone and Rebecca
didn’t want to say what she was thinking. The silence grew
thick and awkward and the longer it remained between them the more
Rebecca wanted to make any noise at all to break it. A scream would
have been better than that quiet.

“We should tell your parents that you’re okay.”
Rebecca finally let it out but it didn’t seem to take any
weight off her shoulders.

“I don’t have any parents,” Ashley responded and it
sounded all too familiar.

“Ashley, you must have parents. Everyone has parents and I’m
sure yours are worried sick about you.”

“No, they’re not, because I don’t have any.”

“Well, where do you live?”

“In a house.”

“Then where’s your house? We’ll go there and not
tell your parents.”

“No, we won’t.”

“Then where do we go?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ashley!” Rebecca’s cry was full of frustration and
she glared at the little girl. Ashley glared straight back with equal
measure of frustration. Rebecca wanted to believe it was simple,
childish stubbornness. The same sort of stubbornness you get when a
child doesn’t want to go to bed or finish her vegetables. But
there was something so grown up about Ashley that she just couldn’t
shrug it off like that. It was in her eyes. Ashley wasn’t
glaring at Rebecca with the wide innocent eyes of a child. They were
different. They were a cynic’s eyes. The hard, narrow eyes of
someone who had seen too much of the world through a bleak, selfish,
bitter tint. Ashley wasn’t just being a stubborn brat. She
genuinely didn’t want Rebecca to take her home or to tell her
parents. Maybe she really didn’t have any parents either.
Stranger things had happened in the past week alone. Rebecca started
the car.

“Forward, then.”

“What about your home?”

“Maybe I don’t have one either.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. Sort of. We’re better off not going back that way.
If the Thralls haven’t come this way looking for you then they
must have gone that way.”

“So where are we going?”

“First, we’re going to get some breakfast. How does bacon
and eggs sound to you?” Ashley nodded the way she always did.
Words didn’t seem to come naturally to her like they did for
others. Rebecca wondered how much she spoke before all this had
started and she’d nearly been run over. She didn’t
imagine she’d ever know but hopefully the girl would crawl out
of her shell eventually.

Breakfast came as a kind relief and for the brief moment in time,
when they were busy eating their fill, things were alright. In fact,
the sudden loss of their silk bed sheets and silver platters gave
their breakfast a comforting normalcy that they could cherish for
just that brief moment in time. Then Rebecca paid the bill and they
were driving again. No, not just driving. They were running. They
were running from someone they didn’t know to somewhere they
couldn’t see.

“Will you tell me a story?” Rebecca asked. The
bewildering question seemingly came out of nowhere.

“What?”

“I told you a story before so it must be your turn to tell me a
story.”

“What story should I tell you?”

“Your story.”

“But I don’t have a story.”

“Sure you do.” Rebecca assured her.
Her mother had
always said everyone had a story.

She’d always said that she would write down her life and it’d
be a best-selling novel.

“Everyone should do it. When I get so old I can count the years
I've got left on my fingers, I’ll write down my life. Everyone
has a story worth reading and, if they’d just write it down,
people would buy it and read about it. Being a writer is easy if you
know a secret like that.” She never did though. She never got
the chance to write it down. That made Rebecca wish she had written
something though. Anything to answer those questions she was left
with. She probably would have had an interesting story – One
worth reading.

“Everybody has a story.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Will you tell me yours?” Ashley looked up at
Rebecca, wondering why she wanted to be told a story. Rebecca had her
eyes locked on the road as tight as her hands were locked on the
wheel. She was smiling though. Rebecca was smiling a cool, confident
smile. This would get the kid talking.

“I don’t have a story.” Ashley repeated. Rebecca
felt that familiar feeling of defeat again. She couldn’t even
outsmart a little girl.

“If you say so.”

“Do you have a story?”

“No. I guess I don’t have one either.” Ashley gave
her a sceptical look. Rebecca didn’t notice it.
Everybody.
The thought stuck with her. She could hear her mother saying it even
now.

Everybody!
Of course she had a story.
But she wouldn’t
tell Ashley her story. She wouldn’t write it down either. She
didn’t know if anyone would want to read it but, the truth was,
she didn’t want anybody to read it. Her story was hers alone.
Everybody could concern themselves with their own little stories.
Rebecca didn’t even want to think about hers. She didn’t
want to
.
But Rebecca could no more escape the details
of her life than anybody else. Not that it was a bad life. She was
never abused, she was never starved, and her father never raped her.
In fact, she didn’t even have a father. And that’s where
it began. Rebecca Williams had a story; of course she did.
Everybody has a story.
She was no longer aware of the road. She
could see it and her hands kept the wheel steady, but Rebecca was
walking through her life, her story.

She didn’t have a father. Not that she knew about, anyway. She
had a mother though. She was a good woman. Rebecca only had fond
memories of her mother. A headstrong and determined woman who
excelled at everything she ever tried. Rebecca wasn’t sure what
her job was. She had vague memories of her being various things at
various times. She was always a mother though. She put being a mother
before her career, even before being a woman. Rebecca never had a
father or a step-father or any memory of her mother getting cosy with
men. There was just Rebecca and her mother. That never seemed to
bother either of them though. Everything was pretty good, actually.
Rebecca even tried to think about something bad about her life with
her mother. There was only one bad memory. That damned memory. That
damned memory where the story suddenly became a tragedy. Except it
wasn’t a memory at all. Rebecca didn’t remember it ever
happening. Rebecca’s memories just went from living with her
mother to living with Aunty Stephie. She was seven, or maybe eight,
years old.

Rebecca didn’t remember, she just knew. She knew her mother had
killed herself. One day, somehow, she just did it. There was no will,
no note and no word to anyone about it. Suddenly it just happened and
Rebecca was living with her aunt who wasn’t even her aunt at
all. Aunty Stephie was her mother’s best friend, practically
family but not actual family. Then everything was okay again. Aunty
Stephie wasn’t a bad woman and her uncle always drank a little
too much but Rebecca remembered him being a very entertaining drunk.
He’d sooner fall down the stairs than throw anyone down them.
In fact, he probably would have fallen down them trying to help
someone. They were good people who cared for her as if she was their
own child. Was there any more to her story Was it just one tragedy
that she didn’t even remember? Just a dull historical account
of something that no one can account for?
She hated not
knowing why her mother died. What had happened to her? She was there
one minute and gone the next. Did life get too hard? Did she learn
some horrible secret that she couldn't bear? Maybe her mother just
wasn’t as happy as she always thought she was.

Rebecca was so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t
realised Ashley was staring at her. She didn’t realise she had
been crying until Ashley asked her if she was okay.

“What?” Rebecca felt the wet streams down her cheeks and
wiped them away. She sniffed. “Oh, yeah. I was just thinking
about things.”

“Sad things?”

“Yeah. Kind of. I’m fine though.” Rebecca turned on
the radio. The station was playing classical music by a composer
Rebecca figured she had probably never heard of who probably died
more than a hundred years before she was born. “Find some music
you like.” She said to Ashley. Ashley began to tune through
static. They kept on running.

Ashley found a station that was playing a Johnny Cash song and stuck
with that. When the song ended, it went smoothly into another country
song. Rebecca gave the radio a look of dismay. Ashley seemed to be
enjoying the music though. Her eyes were stuck on the speaker and she
was listening intently. Her left foot twitched a little and Rebecca
thought it was the first sign of real life in the girl she’d
seen. She wasn’t just going through the motions; she was
actually reacting out of enjoyment. That little twitch in her foot
was the closest thing to emotion that she’d ever seen from
Ashley.

“Maybe we’re near Tamworth,” Rebecca commented.

“Tamworth?”

“Yeah. They’re supposed to really like country music
there.”

“Are we going there?”

“I don’t know. I’ve just been driving. I don’t
even know what direction we’re going. We’re sure to find
somewhere to stop by tonight, though.” Ashley’s response
was her usual silence. Rebecca glanced at her then back to the road.

“Don’t worry though. I’m sure we’ll figure
something out. Maybe we’ll even come across Tamworth. I think I
have some family there. They can help us.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Can’t put anything past you. Maybe I need to say it to
make me feel better too.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure we’ll be fine
though.” Rebecca was aware of how stupid she was sounding. She
was always uncertain about how to act with children. Ashley hardly
seemed like a normal child, either. She wasn’t sure if she
should be delicate and sensitive towards her or just talk to her like
an adult. Whether it was good fortune or bad, Ashley didn’t say
another word. Her face didn’t tell if she was worried and
Rebecca thought maybe Ashley was just amused by her awkward attempts
at talking to her. Rebecca decided it was best to just shut up and
listen to the music. For now, they could keep running until they ran
out of steam. They would just keep running until they had a better
plan.

They eventually found a petrol station along the highway. Rebecca
pulled in to refuel and they were fortunate enough to be able to get
a cheap lunch there. Rebecca asked the man working at the station
what the closest city was.

“That’d be Tamworth.” He told her. He snorted
deeply and ran a hand over his face. “Just keep following the
road.” he finished. Rebecca paid him and returned to the car.
Ashley was waiting quietly in the front seat. Rebecca told her what
she'd learned and handed her a paper bag, soggy with grease.

"It's not five star dining, but it's lunch. Food is food,
right?" Ashley nodded without any real interest.

They ran for the rest of the day, silent, letting the sound of the
radio substitute for talking. The sun set around the same time hunger
set in again and Rebecca stopped at a motel off the highway on the
Tamworth outskirts. Ashley went into their room and sat down on the
edge of one of the beds.

“Hungry?” Rebecca asked her. Ashley replied with a nod.
“Wait here then. I’ll go and find us something to eat.”
Rebecca put the room keys in her pocket and went outside. She checked
the deep pockets of her jeans for her purse and for a second panicked
when she couldn’t find it. She went over to their car and
opened it, finding it sitting on the passenger seat. She breathed a
sigh of relief and stuffed it into her pocket. Then she remembered
what else was in the car. The glove box opened with a click. The gun
was still sitting where it had always been. Rebecca tried to assure
herself that no one had followed them. They were alright. It wasn't
helping. Something about the weapon sitting there so close made the
danger of their situation more real. They weren’t just on a
road trip. She and Ashley weren’t two friends on a holiday to
the home of country music. They were running. More than that, they
were two strangers, locked together by a cruel twist of fate and they
had nowhere to go. Rebecca pulled the gun out and turned it over in
her hands. She noticed something engraved along its length. She held
it up to the light and looked closely, trying to make out what it
said.
Is fhearr fheuchainn na bhith san duil
.
Rebecca tried to read it aloud but didn’t know where to even
begin pronouncing the mess of letters. She shrugged and placed it
back in the glove box.