The Way Home (16 page)

Houdini had continued to walk as the thoughts overwhelmed his mind, realizing he had no idea which direction he'd gone in or where he was. The trees were thick overhead, with the sky the way it was it was as dark as it had been the night before. He nearly turned around but saw something out of the corner of his eye. Wait, it wasn't something. It was someone. It was Susan.

She was simply standing there, staring at him.

Houdini took a step forward, saw her body stiffen as she took a step back. Desperate not to spook her but needing more than anything to be close to her, he raised his hand in a gesture of peace. “Don't run, Susan. Please, don't run away from me. I'm not going to hurt you. I've got clothes for you. Clothes and food.” It was a struggle to keep his voice even and happy, because the only way to describe the look in her eyes was feral.

For what seemed like an eternity, they just stood there with her ready to bolt and his hands held up. Houdini felt a glimmer of hope when she finally took a step forward. It took a long time for her to get close to him, long enough for him to see that for the most part, she'd healed. The bruises and wounds that had covered just about every inch of her weren't there, but he saw several scars she had't had before. Rick had died way too fucking easy.

“I'll get the clothes and food out. They're in my backpack.” Again he spoke in the same easy cheerful tone, a tone one would use with a child. “I bet that you're hungry.” She pressed her lips together, nodded and kept her eyes on him as he took off the backpack and undid the zipper. Houdini took the towel he'd added to the bag once rain was obviously on the way and held it out to her. “Go on, dry off. Wait, do you need help?”

“No!” The word came out as a shout and seemed to shock both of them. “No.” She repeated in a softer tone. “Please don't touch me. Please.”

“Okay,” Houdini said after a pause to stop the tears which had started to burn his eyes. “I won't. I promise. I keep my promises, Susan. You know that.” The thing was, all he wanted to do was touch her, to hold her, feel her and know that she was real.

“You came for me.”

“Yes.”

“You shouldn't have.” She grabbed the towel, wrapped it around herself. “May I please have the bag?”

“Of course,” Houdini held it out. “I can turn around if you want some privacy.”

“Yes, please.” Her words were like a knife to the throat; he turned away and was glad that she couldn't see his face. It wouldn't put her at ease, not at all. As hard as it was, he needed her at ease. To relax, so that she could remember just who she was.

<#<#<#<#

The towel was soft and a sunny yellow that almost hurt her eyes. Susan wrapped it around her body and watched as Houdini turned his back like she'd asked him to. She hadn't missed the hurt, or hope, in his eyes since the second he'd seen her.

What he didn't realize was that she'd been following him for the last five minutes. At first, she'd thought that he was a mirage, but then it became clear he was real. Susan felt shame that she was just about to blend back in the trees when he saw her. It seemed like it would be easier for him. She was almost sure now it would have been. She wasn't the same anymore. She was different, because she knew now what she hadn't before. There was so much blood on her hands it would never wash off, there was no way to redeem herself.

Underneath the towel was the food he'd promised. Susan's stomach rumbled. Shifting always left her hungry, and it had been days since she'd eaten anything. A brief battle raged between digging into one of the protein bars or putting on the clothes in the bag. They looked soft and warm and most definitely clean. The only good thing about the rain was that she was now clean enough to not feel strange about putting on clean clothes, though she could still use an hour or so underneath a hot shower spray and would kill for bottles of shampoo and conditioner.

Finally Susan decided just to cram as much of the protein bar into her mouth as she could and chew while she got dressed. The pants were actually a decent fit thanks to a drawstring; the shirt was way too big but soft in the way that old clothes got after they'd been washed often. It was a great feeling against her skin.

When she looked up, Houdini had turned around and was staring at her. Susan slid her feet into the flip flop style sandals and didn't meet his eyes. She couldn't. “So, where are we exactly?”

“The State Park,” he replied.

“Where's Rick?” Susan swallowed hard, her heart in her throat even just saying and thinking his name.

“He's dead.” He replied. “He'll never hurt you again.”

“I don't believe you. It's probably a trick. He's very determined.” Susan couldn't stop herself from looking around, at the woods. He could be out there right now. He could be ready to strike. Fear washed over her.

“Trust me, he's dead,” he repeated. Susan stepped back as he moved forward. Houdini held his hands up again. “I'm not going to touch you, but I want you to look at me.”

Susan met his eyes. Emotions that she didn't want to feel rushed through her; tears stung her eyes and she blinked furiously to avoid shedding them. “Did you kill him?”

“Yes, I did. Did you think I wouldn't?”

“I didn't think about that,” Susan told him. “How did you kill him?”

“With a knife.”

“Was it quick?” She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling the cool night air against her skin.

“It wasn't quick.”

“Good.” And it was good to think of Rick suffering because of what he'd done to her. Susan believed what Houdini said, she believed that he'd killed him and knew that he'd done it for her. It was more blood on her hands. Even in death Rick was still right there with her.

“It looks like more rain is headed our way,” he cleared his throat. “Should we head back?”

“Is that where you killed him?”

“No. I killed him where you shifted. Do you remember that?”

Susan remembered. She'd never be able to forget hearing his voice, realizing that he was really there and not some sick twisted trick in her mind. He'd missed her. He loved her. His voice had drawn her in, she was ready to shift back and throw herself at him, but then she heard Rick's voice in her ear reminding her of her role in everything. All she could do was run. “No.” She cleared her throat. “Will you take me there?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “We should go now, try and beat the storm as much as we can.” Susan nodded, motioned for him to lead the way. He looked at her strangely but started to walk. She nearly passed his face, careful to stay a little bit behind him. It had become second nature to grab his hand or for him to grab hers. The idea of him touching her, of anyone touching her, made her skin crawl.

The silence was heavy between them, loaded with things not said. It remained that way until Susan could hear the water of the stream. She could smell blood in the air. Her blood and more importantly, Rick's blood. Without thinking, Susan moved forward without risking a glance at Houdini. She wasn't quite sure what was showing on her face. She reached Rick's body before Houdini did, stared down at him or rather what was left of him. The animals had been at him, he was starting to look more horror movie than human. He was as dead as dead could be.

Susan didn't know where the tears came from but suddenly they were flowing and she was sobbing. She wasn't mourning Rick, not to the slightest degree, it was a sense of relief to see him gone. No one else would ever suffer at his hands. He would never take or ruin another life, and hopefully he was burning in the deepest and darkest level of hell possible. She wasn't sure how long she cried, but when she turned to face Houdini, she knew that it had just about torn him apart  not to move forward and comfort her. He'd been crying. He'd cried with her. It hurt, deep in her heart it hurt, it made her want to cry all over again.

“We should probably go,” Susan's voice was thick with emotion. She cleared her throat, stared down at the rust-colored ground. She didn't want to go, to head back to the camp and to the inevitable stares and questions everyone was going to have.

“Yeah, the rain is close. I can smell it in the air. It won't take us that long to get back, maybe another half an hour. Here, you should take my sweatshirt. You're shaking.”

“I'm scared.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she knew that she was thinking them. Susan pressed her hands against her mouth and realized she was shaking harder. “I'm sorry. I.... We should really go.”

“Talk to me, Susan. Tell me what I can do.”

Of course he'd offer such things with that look on his face. Susan's heart twisted into a sharp knot at how much love she could see coming from his eyes. It made her realize that her days of causing pain and suffering weren't over. On top of everything else she'd caused, she was going to be responsible for breaking Houdini's heart.

<#<#<#<#

Returning to the camp, to where she'd originally run from, was harder than Susan expected. It was even harder to be suddenly bombarded by people, everyone speaking at once, asking questions she didn't want to answer.

Her silence had made them uncomfortable, she could tell. It bothered her that things were suddenly awkward with people that she cared deeply for, but she didn't know how to explain what had happened to them. How did she tell them everything could be traced straight back to her?

Houdini had backed everyone off, motioned towards the RV and told her she could shower there if she wanted, he'd find her some real food and a bed. Susan knew that the RV was Rick's; they'd only been standing feet from it watching the carnage. The food and clothes would be his or theirs as well. She wanted no part in any of it.

“I don't want to be here. We should go.” Susan spoke softly, her voice only loud enough for Houdini to hear. “I don't want to be here.”

“Alright, we'll leave.” He promised. “Can you ride?”

Ride. With him. Be wrapped around him for as many hours as it would take to get back to Center City? The idea thrilled and terrified her. “Yes. Everyone should go. Everyone. It's not safe here.”

“It's safe. They're all either dead or gone.” Houdini assured her. “You saw Rick.”

“What about Michael?”

“Wait, what?” Vera spoke before he could. “Michael? Michael is dead. He's been dead along with the other Grievers. Good riddance.”

“The bodies in the mass grave? That was a lie. Most of the Grievers died, but not Michael. Or Fire, he's still alive. I saw him earlier.” Susan realized that if possible, there was more attention on her than before. It was enough to make her head go light.

Deacon was in front of her in an instant. “You're sure it was him?”

Susan was sure, they'd gotten up close and personal. Michael had taken liberties with her that she never wanted to have to speak about, that she wouldn't speak about. “I'm sure. I'm sure it was both of them.”

“No. No. No.” Vera shook her head. “He is not alive. He can't be. He cannot be! Not after everything that they did in Center City.”

“Vera, start breathing.” Deacon nearly snapped the words. “Houdini, take Mike and Nate, one of the SUVs and the girls and head back to Center City.”

“Wait, what? The girls? I'm a grown woman.”

“Yes, you are. Houdini, take Mike and Nate, one of the SUV's and the women and head back to Center City.” Deacon repeated. “It's not up for debate, from anyone. I really hope that everyone gets that.” Susan backed away, the tension between Deacon and Vera was as thick as a wall. When had that happened? The fighting was too much for her to take. Honestly she had enough in her mind without the new worry about her friends.

“It's not the time for this.” Houdini interrupted them. “Look, Michael being alive sucks. We can all agree on that. Fighting amongst ourselves isn't going to do us any favors. Any of us staying here probably isn't a good idea. We all need to head back, regroup. Figure this shit out.”

“It's never going to end, is it?” Vera demanded. “We're never going to just be able to live, we're always going to have to look over our shoulders and wonder what's coming to bite us in the ass next. Like I'm not doing that enough already, wondering if the one who attacked me is going to show back up.”

“It was Michael,” Susan clasped her hands together. “It was Michael who attacked you.” She took a deep breath. “And it was Rick who sent him after you.”

“What are you talking about?” Deacon demanded.

“Why would your ex send Michael after me?” Vera questioned.

“Because you were my friend,” Susan replied. “He knew that I loved you and that losing you would have hurt me.” Her heart sank at the expression on her friends' faces, and she closed her eyes. This was the beginning of the actual end. She'd survived Rick and The Hunt, but that didn't mean that she was going to get her life back. “It was all because of me. I broke Rick when I told him my true nature, and he turned into a monster, a monster hellbent on eradicating everyone like me.”

“Fuck that, this is not on you. This is not on her.” Houdini moved close to Susan, too close for her comfort, but she found herself frozen in place. The way that Deacon was looking at her was as ominous as the way that Vera wouldn't look at her. “He made the choice!”

“That's true, but it sounds like Center City wouldn't have even been on his radar if not for her. Would have never got Vera on Michael’s radar. She wouldn't have been attacked.” Deacon's nostrils were flaring as he spoke.