Undone: The Complete Duology, page 25
She started to speak, but I offered the bottle of rum to her.
“You’ve had a long day.” I shook the bottle a little. “It’s a full-blown blizzard out there, and we’re stuck in a barn. Why don’t we get some rest?”
“I just want to know if—”
“Tomorrow,” I said, with no intention of picking up this conversation again at any point. It wasn’t one we even needed to have. We’d already been through everything that had mattered, back then.
This was more of Thorn Tree’s façade.
“Drink up, Lexi,” I said as sadness dug into me.
Lexi wasn’t equipped for what we were up against here. More and more, I wasn’t sure I was, either.
She finally took the bottle but held it loosely in her hand at her side.
Outside, the wind beat at the walls, rattling them all the way up the ceiling. The horse shuffled and then dozed back off again.
Lexi burst into tears, hunching forward. I stood and wrapped the blanket around her shaking shoulders, making shushing noises. She let me lead her towards the sleeping bag but stood aimlessly next to it, swaying on her feet.
I eased the bottle from her and uncapped it, then held it up to her lips until she wrapped her hands around the neck and downed the contents. When she was good and gone under the alcohol, I placed the bottle on the hay before helping her down into her bed.
I sat next to her, bundled into myself to help keep out the cool air, and adjusted the blanket over her as she buried her face into her pillow.
“Don’t think about it all,” I said quietly. “It’s not worth thinking about.”
“I just wanted—”
“I know,” I said, rubbing her side.
I couldn’t shake the realization that she wasn’t going to make it back out of Thorn Tree. She was already too far gone, and we were just gearing up for the real test, whatever that might be.
She’d come here to save me. She’d meant well, before they got ahold of her. I’d never wished a bad thing against her, and now, her blood would be on my hands.
Blood. I lifted my arm and frowned down at the inside of my wrist where I’d sliced a knife—where had I gotten that from again?—to bleed into the river. The memories surrounding that moment were hazy, though I could trace the intoxication back to the food at the Feast.
My wrist was healed, not a mark or scar to be found.
That day of the picnic, Gracie had panicked when I’d heard water flowing and wanted to explore. I didn’t entirely understand the properties of that river, but it was just one more unpleasant secret of Thorn Tree.
We had to get out of here.
I resumed rubbing Lexi’s side. “Where is that map hidden, Lex?”
“Headmaster’s house,” she murmured into her pillow.
“Yeah, you said that, but where in his house?”
“I don’t know. Your dad just said he’d done some ren...” She struggled over her words, petering out.
“Renovation work? He did some renovations on the headmaster’s house?”
She nodded against her pillow, hair wet with tears and snot slicked to her face.
“He didn’t say where he put it though?”
She began crying again, harder, gripping her pillow at the corner.
I sighed and squeezed her shoulder.
“Get some rest, Lexi.” I leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “Thank you for coming. You were always better than we deserved.”
“‘The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it,’” she murmured.
I knew that passage. John 1:5. Lexi, like her family, was a good, devout person.
She did not belong in Thorn Tree.
Her side heaved a few times before she faded into a restless sleep.
I wrapped my arms around myself, staring at the closed barn doors that trembled as the storm raged outside. At no point in the foreseeable future would I have any business with the headmaster, and I wasn’t esteemed enough to request favors around here. If I were to get into his house, I had two options: sneak in, or position myself to force his hand.
Perhaps it was the pounding storm outside, or perhaps I just had a death wish, but only one option sprung to mind.
Lexi fell into a deep drunken sleep. At least she wouldn’t be conscious enough to try to stop me. The horse didn’t bother looking my way. Even she knew I was an idiot.
Time was of the essence. Thorn Tree had long set its plan into motion, and it was proving to have more working parts to it than I had anticipated. Gracie was off on her quest for her spell that would destroy the town, but she still had to await the full moon.
A lot could happen before then.
I needed that map. I couldn’t just sit by while the tornado of destruction whirled around, closing me in. My hands had been tied to this point, but now I had a plan.
If that meant fleeing into a deadly storm, then that was what I had to do. After assessing Lexi didn’t have anything useful with her that I could use, I settled with stuffing my jacket with loose hay, including above and below the elbows of my sleeves. With the jacket zipped and the bottom tucked into the waist of my pants, the hay mostly stayed in place and provided an extra layer of insulation.
I halted next to the barn doors. The wind shrieked outside and iced my skin as it trickled through the cracks.
This might be the second worst decision I’d ever made. The first was coming to this forsaken town.
Gritting my teeth, I cracked open the door and slipped out into the night, the wind beating me back. My vision blurred and my eyelashes froze as I checked the door to verify it was securely shut. Then I ducked against the storm, crunching the hay against my chest, and scurried through the dark streets. Snow draped the town and if I didn’t know what monsters resided here, I could be convinced this was a scene off a Christmas card. Even the trees surrounding the town looked festive and not at all like they shifted to hold people captive.
With that thought, the landscape took on a darker tone, the true one. Quaint buildings and towering evergreens were just props for the play.
My soles slipped and slid on the snow, and I braced each step that sank my already damp shoes. At least I didn’t have to cross the entire town, just a block or so. Anything more wouldn’t be feasible in this weather. This trek might already be too much.
The storm pummeled the buildings, the street, and me. I curled my hands inside my jacket, but there wasn’t much give left on the sleeves with all the hay poking me with each step. I already couldn’t feel my fingers or toes, and I couldn’t imagine how much worse I would feel without my weird insulation layer. The tops of my ears felt like they would break off if I touched them.
I blinked rapidly, trying to make out a sign. I was two streets away. If the storm broke for even a moment, the headmaster’s grand house would be in the near distance, but I couldn’t see pissing-distance ahead.
I could have stolen Lexi’s car. Even if it wasn’t designed for this weather, it would still fare better than me. That would leave her stranded though, and I couldn’t do that. Not anymore than she already was.
Where the hell had my truck gone?
My foot slipped from under me. I flailed, catching my balance against a signpost that burned my fingers with ice. Recoiling, I rubbed my hands together then tucked them under my armpits as I clomped forward. The snow crunched as I hit a pothole. My ankle twisted, pain flaring up my leg to my knee. I bit down on a yelp as I staggered sideways into a building. Breath puffed in front of my face as I willed away the agony in my leg.
I’d meant to play the helpless victim of the storm when I reached the headmaster house, but I hadn’t meant to actually become one.
God damnit.
I tamped down the panic roiling through me. Even if it felt like forever, I was only a short distance from my destination. I could do it. Just a few more steps—albeit painful ones.
Tears welled in my eyes as I tried to put pressure on my injured ankle. I’d messed it up good.
I blew out a steadying breath and tried again.
No dice.
Instead, I leaned into the wall with my elbow as I hobbled along. Little by little, I made my way down the street to the intersection. With nothing to brace myself against, I limped across the street, one arm out for balance, moving as fast as the snow and wind allowed, knees locked against landing straight on my ass. I stumbled into the building on the other side of the crosswalk and continued down the sidewalk, using my sore elbow as a guide. At least this way, the wind could attack from only three sides.
My stomach churned with the pain as I made way across the next street. Finally, despite the storm, the headmaster’s house appeared in glimpses. My eyeballs felt frozen, and I wasn’t sure my nose would ever defrost.
At the gate surrounding the headmaster’s property, I leaned against it with my back and cupped my hands over my face to huff out warm breath. When my face tingled to life, I unzipped my jacket and unloaded the hay before letting myself in past the unlocked gate.
I stuck to the perimeter of the property, using the fence for balance, until reaching a tree at the halfway point towards the porch. At the tree, I caught my breath, my lungs aching deep in my chest, and then limped my way to the front steps. My palms burned on the ice as I leaned against the rail, climbing to the top. My knees buckled, and I collapsed in front of the door, breathing hard, wishing that of all the numb parts of my body, my ankle would be one, but it continued to flare hot pain through me.
With effort, I used the wall for support and climbed to my feet before I knocked.
God help me if they aren’t home.
Perhaps they got stuck out in the bad weather and had to take shelter with a neighbor. The twist would be too much, considering that was the exact ruse I intended to use on them.
The door cracked open, and all I could make out was one eye with long lashes. “Can I help you?”
The voice was nearly whipped away by the storm.
“I’m freezing,” I said, teeth chattering. At least I didn’t have to rely on acting skills to sell my story. “I was out when the storm hit. I—”
The girl reached out, grabbing my arm, and yanked me inside. I shouted before I could stop myself when my bad foot slammed into the floor. I eased up on the ankle, leaning against the wall.
She shoved the door shut and turned to me, all five foot two and auburn hair. She couldn’t be more than seventeen or eighteen.
“I’ll let Dad know you’re here.”
I nodded, but she wasn’t asking for my approval. She scurried away.
The foyer was all dark wood and expert craftsmanship straight from the 1800s. The headmaster had done an excellent job at keeping up the place.
Or maybe my father had. Lexi had said he had done renovation work on this house. He’d been a grocery store manager my entire life. I’d never known him to be a carpenter, though he did mention he’d once been an electrician.
The more I knew, the less I knew.
A tall man with a tuft of silver hair strode into the room, wearing a blue blazer over a white shirt and matching slacks despite the time of night. Did he always dress like this? Not a pair of sweatpants to be found in his wardrobe?
“Malachi.” My name boomed from him, and I had no doubt he was the headmaster of the school. I already felt like I was being assigned detention. “Is this your first time experiencing snow?”
Jesus Christ, I bet this guy was a fuckin kill joy.
“No, sir,” I said, because sir didn’t just seem appropriate here—it was required. “I got caught up by surprise and injured my ankle.”
My answer didn’t make me sound any less stupid.
“Ah, yes, that can happen when not paying attention.”
And this guy ran their school.
A woman appeared behind him, wearing a flowery dress and thick wool leggings. “Malachi, would you like some tea?”
I would have taken a hot stick in the eye at this point, just anything to warm me up.
“Yes, please.”
Mr. Headmaster—what the hell was this guy’s name anyway?—nodded as if excusing me from class. I limped past him, and he frowned at where I touched the wall to guide me along after Mrs. Headmaster.
Blue and white wallpaper covered the kitchen, intercepted by wooden cabinets that ran the length of the walls and climbed up the ceiling in the corners. The interior doors and backsplash matched the cabinets in a punch-you-in-the-face kind of way.
The nook table and chairs were only a shade darker. I dropped into a chair a little too heavily, and Mrs. Headmaster frowned at me as she poured tea from a kettle that had warmed on the top of a wood burning stove.
She placed a steaming mug in front of me, then stood back no more than a foot. When I realized she intended to hover, I tried to ignore the violation of my personal space and leaned forward to pick up the mug. My fingers spasmed and ached at the warmth seeping through the ceramic.
“He injured his ankle.” Mr. Headmaster made the announcement from the doorway as if it were an order, then strolled back off down a long, narrow hallway. The heavy wood theme carried through the house as far as I could see.
Mrs. Headmaster rapped her knuckles on the table, next to my mug, then disappeared through one of the interior wooden doors.
I drank my tea, focused on warming up though I should be scoping out where this map could be. This was not going to be an easy task, but what choices did I have?
None.
With that, I willed myself to warm up faster.
Mrs. Headmaster returned pushing a little brass trolley filled with utensils and supplies.
Why did they need so much first aid on hand like that? Nothing about this boded well. It felt less like a nurse station and more like a torture scene.
I eased my knee to bend and rested my leg crossed over the other so I could reach my shoe.
“I’ve got it,” she said with all the gentleness of a wasp, then wrenched off my shoe.
I screamed, slamming my palm against the tabletop, then clamped my teeth together.
She peeled off my wet sock and discarded it aside. My foot was red and swollen, and when she prodded at my ankle, black covered my vision. I took a slow deep breath to quell the turmoil in my stomach before the tea came back up.
She moved the ankle side to side. “It’s just twisted, not sprained. The pain is compounded with the snow. You’re lucky you didn’t get frostbite.”
I nodded, teeth clamped together, afraid if I opened my mouth, I would yelp again. Reject my man card; this fucker hurt.
She used paper towels to dry my damp foot. I would have argued to do it myself, but I couldn’t shake the weird schoolhouse vibes from this entire place. I could easily believe I was at the school nurse except I was in someone’s dining room straight out of the Victorian era.
That brought me back to why I’d come here in the first place. How the hell was I going to find the map in this enormous place without the occupants catching me?
“What were you doing out in the storm anyway?” she asked as she wiped a cotton ball damp with a tincture across the puffy flesh of my ankle.
That was a good question, and one I hadn’t determined an answer to before charging my dumb ass out into the storm. The plan had worked. I was inside their house, after all. The rest was still up in the air though.
“I...thought I saw something,” I murmured, brain reeling for a reasonable reply. No sane person would have been caught out in that storm. It wasn’t like we hadn’t had enough warning from Mother Nature, or that the storm hadn’t been raging for hours now. It was obvious I had willingly gone back out into the whiteout.
She peered up at me with an imploring look before setting to wrapping my ankle with a bandage.
“I thought I saw…my brother.”
That would do; perhaps the only answer that would. Everyone knew why I was in town. They knew that Robert had yet to give a sign he was still alive. If I had to wager, the entire town gossiped about what had become of him behind closed doors where I wasn’t invited—yet. Soon enough, I would be one of them, and poor Lexi, she might as well be already. She was well on her way.
“Yes, well, Gracie has taken care of that, I’m sure,” Mrs. Headmaster said without hesitation as she finished wrapping my ankle. She pushed to her feet and arranged the items on her tray. “She finally settled the score.”
I straightened up, cold drifting over me. “Score?”
Did Gracie have a…score to settle with my brother? She’d never mentioned it. In fact, she hadn’t seen him since they were peers in school. At no point did I get the idea there had been any bad blood between them.
It was a scam. This whole damn town was a brainwashing machine. Mrs. Headmaster was just trying to get under my skin. It was part of the conversion process. Throw me off-kilter by pushing and pulling, keeping me moving to and fro until I couldn’t make decisions for myself. Then the church—and that weird ass Reverend—would swoop in and provide all the salvation I would so desperately need.
There were a million ways to achieve the same result. Whatever the vehicle, I knew where they were headed.
Gracie didn’t give a rat’s ass about my brother, and they damn well knew it.
“Let’s get you to your room,” Mrs. Headmaster said, ignoring my question.
Of course she did. Not that I could argue with a warm place to stay for the night. Even if this turned out to be a useless quest, I couldn’t handle going back out in that storm. I’d barely survived the trip to the headmaster’s house. No way I could make it back to Luke Hemming’s five-star accommodations.
I just hoped that this already bizarre encounter wouldn’t turn into something sinister.
7
MAC
I followed Mrs. Headmaster down the narrow hallway past heavy wooden doors. The entire place held true to its roots, and it was anyone’s guess what my father had renovated. Without narrowing that down, I had no chance of finding the map without being discovered.
