THE SHADOWED ONYX: A DIAMOND ESTATES NOVEL (36 page)

A vicious battle raged in the space around Stella’s body. On the outside, she looked mostly normal—like a widow. But in the spirit, Stella was being ravaged from all sides.

How could she not feel the vile creatures clawing at her? They whispered lies into her ear and shouted insults at her body.

“You’re worthless.”

“You shouldn’t be allowed to live.”

“He’s with his better wife.”

“That preacher was wrong.”

But bright beings, though fewer in number and in a weakened state, spoke truth.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Jesus loves you.”

“You’re an amazing, worthwhile creation of God.”

Listen to them, Stella. Listen to the good voices
. By why were there so few? And why were they losing? They were batted away or pummeled by the evil spirits whenever one got too close to Stella. Yet they persisted.

Stella took a bite of egg. Trying to look normal, though Joy watched her hands shake. Her head lifted, and she searched for Joy, her eyes wild with fear.

Blood flowed in the battle for Stella’s soul. Good had taken blow after blow. Powerful, mighty angels, like those she’d seen in the prayer room at Diamond Estates, fell to the ground in defeat.

Evil grew and its strength intensified as Stella pulled at Joy’s consciousness from the flesh. “Never mind. I changed my mind.”

“No!” Joy shouted to Stella. “Fight back.”

No one in the room flinched at the sound of Joy’s screams that merely blended in with the battle cries filling the room. Were her shouts audible to Stella?

Was Joy destined to watch this war until its bitter end? How to get a message to Stella? If only she’d fight.

The remaining warriors, with their vicious faces, glistening with sweat and blood, parted and bowed their heads.

What was happening? Joy frantically searched the air, looking for the head demon.

Joy gasped.

With slow, regal steps, the grandest, most beautiful tiger Joy could ever remember seeing approached Stella. He watched her spirit weep and tremble. The gleam in his eyes revealed the pleasure he took in her misery.

The tiger circled Stella like stalking its prey. Could she see him?

With all of its muscular glory, the tiger reared back and roared inches from Stella’s ear. Her hair waved in the breeze from the tiger’s breath. Couldn’t Stella hear that?

But she didn’t move. No one noticed.

Joy lifted her foot, but couldn’t. She was paralyzed in-between.

Stella locked eyes with Joy and shook her head. “Never mind, Joy. I didn’t mean it.”

But she
had
meant it. Joy saw the truth in her eyes when she’d asked for help. Would they leave her alone if she backed down? Exactly what Joy had been trying to do.

Stella lifted the deviled egg to her mouth, and she took another bite, pretending all was fine. Unaware of the bloodthirsty predator at her back. Stella’s eyes flew open. She shook her head.

The tiger crouched low to the floor then leaped with a mighty roar. It dove for her neck and sank his long teeth into her artery.

Stella grabbed her throat, coughing, gagging, her eyes wild with pain and fear.

“Someone help her. She’s choking.”

“Anyone know the Heimlich maneuver?”

“Pound on her back.”

Sue rushed to Stella’s side and slipped her arms around from behind. She squeezed with all her might.

The tiger didn’t let go. Blood and saliva dripped from his mouth. He twisted his head and clamped tighter one last time with his powerful jaws.

Sue squeezed again, short, tight bursts against Stella’s sternum. “Maybe we need someone stronger over here. Has anyone called 911?”

Stella locked eyes with Joy.

In one world, the tiger let go, and Stella slumped to the spiritual earth in a pool of her own blood.

In the other world, Stella fell into her chair, clutching her throat as she convulsed.

A plate of deviled eggs clattered to the floor.

Bea covered her mouth and screamed.

T
hat’s it. That’s it. That’s it
. Joy searched for the quickest way out that would require her to plow down the fewest people. Joy took one last look at Stella then shifted her gaze to Beatrice being ushered out the side door by her mom and a few of the aproned church ladies. No one was looking at Joy. It was now or never.

She speed walked to the fellowship hall entry then bolted down the hallway and up the stairs toward the front doors. She tumbled against the crash bar, threw the doors open, then ran across the parking lot. Her legs pumped, and her chest heaved as she sprinted toward nowhere.

Silas stayed right at her heels. Joy glanced back every few seconds to make sure he wasn’t getting angry, but he simply ran. Anyway, if he were chasing her, it would have been over by then.

She could never turn back to God. All Stella had done was look toward Jesus. That was it. And it cost her life in the most vicious way Joy could imagine.

Joy was guilty of the same search. She’d experienced the same longing. But she had to put that out of her mind for good now, or the same thing would happen to her. She’d already had some close calls. No, she could never go back.

But where could she go? She ran past Hoke’s. No, they’d look for her there. She passed the street to Melanie’s house. Mom said Maggie had moved. The memories must have become too much for her. Joy would have moved, too. In fact, she had.

She could go to Austin’s, but he played too much by the book. He wouldn’t turn her away, but he’d turn her in. No. Worse than that. He’d convince her to turn herself in.

A fugitive running from everyone, hiding both flesh and spirit.

She came to a stop on a familiar patch of sidewalk and looked up at the movie theater marquee. Why not? It sure wouldn’t solve all her problems and she couldn’t live there, but it would buy her a couple of hours to sort out what she could.

Let’s see … what was playing? Anything lighthearted, a little funny. Nothing heavy, scary, or sad. Ever again.

Joy bought her ticket and entered the theater. She picked her favorite seat, three quarters of the way to the left and three quarters of the way back.

What was she going to do?

One part of her screamed to try to fight her way out. The survivalist in her demanded that she find a way. That there had to be someone out there who could help her. She wasn’t the first person to go through something like this, and she wouldn’t be the last one. It had been going on since Bible times, and it would continue on forever.

Why couldn’t she talk to someone she trusted and just turn the whole thing over? She could say, “Here, Ben or Mom or Ginny. This is what’s going on with me. I’m scared. I need help.” And then sit back and let the help come. But she’d never do it because they’d all be at risk, too. No matter how many times Joy tried to devise a new scenario, she arrived back at the same conclusion.

And the fatalist inside her brain simply laughed at the survivalist.

The credits rolled, and the lights came up.

She watched people gather their empty popcorn buckets and cups of soda and shuffle out of their seats, squinting as their eyes adjusted to the light.

Time for her to go, too. But where could she go that she wouldn’t be putting others at risk? Best to just watch another movie, buy a couple more hours. She gathered her things to move to another theater, maybe something a little longer.

“Joy?”

“Mom?” Joy spun around. “How did you find me?”

Silas appeared under Joy’s feet.

“Oh, a little birdie told me where you might be. Even the seat you’d have chosen.” She offered a worn smile.

Joy nodded. Austin. “Did he come to the funeral?”

“No, I went to his house. He’s worried about you.”

“Yeah.”

Mom took a step closer. “Why did you run?”

“I just can’t face any more, Mom. Death and loss, the fear. I’m tired of being afraid. I just needed a break.”

She nodded. “Makes perfect sense to me.” She moved in one more step. Like she was cornering a skittish rabbit. “Tell me. What can I do for you? How can I help you?”

Joy eyed her. Could she be honest with her mom? No. For Mom’s sake, Joy had to get rid of her. She had to. “At the risk of sounding completely ungrateful and rude, could you leave me alone? Just let me be here by myself and figure out things by myself. No offense, really.”

The corners of Mom’s smile drooped a bit, but she recovered quickly. “Sure, I can do that. I actually expected you to say it.” Mom dangled Joy’s keys. “Dad’s waiting for me outside. We brought your car.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Joy pocketed the keys.

Mom left as the lights dimmed.

If she could just figure out what had happened in those last moments with Stella. When she was trying to bring Joy back, saying she’d changed her mind after crying out for help, why didn’t they let her live? They must have known her heart wasn’t true—that was the only explanation. So if Stella wasn’t matching her actions up with her heart and mind, and they knew, and they killed her for it … then Joy was doomed.

Joy slouched down in her seat as a new batch of moviegoers entered the theater. No one knew she was there. Hey, maybe that’s what her tombstone should say. No O
NE
K
NEW
S
HE
W
AS
H
ERE
.

Maybe it should say that sooner rather than later.

Joy had watched Stella die. Sure it had been painful, probably, but it didn’t last very long, and there were other ways. She didn’t have to pick suicide by demon tiger, but maybe some pills or a rope.

She felt the roots of an idea spread through her body as the layers of logic grew. Yeah. That’s what she’d do.

Joy would kill two birds with one stone … or three if she counted herself. Silas inched closer.

Where could she buy a rope this time of night? Oh, no need.

She’d go to Grandpa’s.

J
oy steered the car onto the half-shoveled driveway. The lights were off at the house. Of course they were.

She looked at the ridges in the snow where Grandpa had last pushed the shovel. The mounds of snow he’d scooped to the side. The scuffled area where he’d fallen.

She walked past the house to the garage out back and used her key to open the seldom-used side door. She batted away the rake handles and roasting sticks that fell toward her as she pulled the door open then stepped inside and flipped on the light.

As her eyes adjusted, Joy searched for a ladder. Oh. Easy. Right in front of her. She popped it open in the center of the space.

Now, where was the rope? Grandpa had plenty; she’d seen him use it a ton of times.

There it was. Coiled on a peg on the wall opposite the door. Too high to reach, she’d need the ladder. Or … she grabbed a rake. This would work.

Joy stuck the rake handle through the coil and lifted it off the peg. It slid the length of the handle until it circled her arm.

Okay. Now. She had to think about knots. She used to know all that stuff, but not anymore.

Oh, her phone. So long without it, she’d almost forgotten that she had it. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the display. Could Google tell her how to tie the knot?

How to tie a noose
. S
EARCH
.

Apparently so. Dozens of references popped up. She’d pick the one with the diagrams.

Joy looped the rope and wrapped the end around the loop just as the diagram showed then threw it over the beam across the middle of the garage and secured it just like in the picture. She wiped the tears from her eyes as her vision blurred.

She needed to rehearse the words she’d pray. She’d call out to God. That would bring forth the evil spirit. Silas would turn on her and then war would rage on. But it wouldn’t be over yet. She would pray, give her life to Jesus, and ask Him into her life. The question was, how much time would she have between that moment and when Silas attacked? Not
if—when
. Because, if she was going to die, it was going to be on her terms.

Silas watched her closely, his tail wagging. He seemed happy to see what Joy was doing. As though he understood. Was that good or bad? She had no idea what the difference was anymore.

She moved the ladder into position and got ready to climb. Wait. Should she leave a note? She really had nothing to say. But, then again, the note wasn’t really about her, it was about them … the people she’d leave behind.

Joy rummaged in Grandpa’s drawers and found a stubby pencil and a paper bag from the grocery store. She ripped the bag and opened it flat.

She drew a line on the paper and moved her pencil beneath the line.

Okay that was it. Nothing left. Joy put the letter on the workbench and shifted the ladder a few inches. She climbed to the third step, tears pouring from her eyes. Her hands shook as she slipped the noose over her head and around her neck. She tightened it just enough to feel it.

Time for her prayer. Was she ready for this? There would be no turning back.

She clenched her fists and opened her mouth. Here goes …

Lights flickered through the tiny window over the workbench, and a car squealed into the driveway. The garage door began to rise.

Joy stared into the night as headlights from Dad’s car shone spotlights on the scene. If only it were a scene in a movie, rather than real life. She’d receive an Academy Award for sure. She’d stand on that stage, with the Oscar in her hand, and thank her parents for not coming unglued in this moment. Why was no one moving?

The bright beams prevented Joy from seeing their faces, but she could imagine. She had destroyed them. There was no doubt. They were forever changed. All of them.

Dad climbed slowly from the car, expressionless. He stepped toward Joy.