CHAPTER FORTY FIVEIn The Murderer’s CarBryony rested her head against the window.“Peter? I’m . . . I’m not really feeling well. Do you mind if I close my eyes for a little bit?”Did he mind? Of course he didn’t mind, not in the slightest. Wouldn’t this be perfect? Wouldn’t this be almost romantic in a way, the two of them companionably enclosed in the car, she dreaming sweet dreams and he driving them off somewhere exotic and adventurous?“Of course I don’t mind. You’re safe with me.” He nearly giggled, but he was not a giggling sort of fellow, so he managed to abstain.“Can I tell you something?”He nodded, but realized she couldn’t see him with her eyes closed. “Yes,” he said aloud, and beamed at how sensitive he could be to her needs.“When that man was . . . on the trail. When he was . . . ”“When he was trying to kill you,” he prompted helpfully. He heard Bryony sigh.“Yes. When he was trying to kill me, it was strange. I keep seeing his face in my head. I thought I w
CHAPTER FORTY SIXPrioritiesOnly things did not go as planned for our deviant and murderous Peter. When he pulled up to the Warshouski’s apartment, he noticed a car outside. Their car. And when he helped Bryony climb the stairs, they were soon greeted by an agitated Eddie.“What are you doing home?” Bryony asked happily. Peter echoed the sentiment in his head exactly.He thought: “Oh no, this was going to be so lovely!”He thought: “Can I take Eddie out, too?”He thought: “Not a chance, that is one irate man. Okay, better go!”He opened his mouth to hand Bryony off to her husband and beat a hasty retreat, but Eddie spoke before he ever had the chance.“Bryony, it’s your father. They called me at the radio station. He had an attack of some kind, and he’s not doing well. You need to go home.”Bryony reeled a bit, and Eddie and Peter both reached out to steady her. She steadied herself, however, as she had always done, and she straightened her back.“All right, Eddie. Can we le
CHAPTER FORTY SEVENBryony Sleeps on Peter’s ShoulderThis is what the murderer thought:He thought, “I can’t believe my luck! They’re so trusting. Useful.”He thought, “Perhaps she is fated for the desert after all, only . . . with my help.”He thought, “It’s not long now.”Beneath the flying airplane, the desert howled and hissed and coiled around itself in painful anticipation. It somehow sensed Bryony’s arrival, somehow tasted the soft flesh hidden under her skin. It sucked greedily at what it knew would sate it.It is time. It is time. The desert always knew it would come.
CHAPTER FORTY EIGHTKill HerBryony knew he wouldn’t be there, but she checked the house first.“Daddy? Daddy?” she called, and ran from room to room.“Wouldn’t he be at the hospital?” Peter asked. It alarmed him to see Bryony worked up to this state, to see her flying wildly around the house like a bird newly thrust into a cage. Where was her serenity? Where was her ethereal acceptance? This panic seemed so unlike her, and it was equally endearing and disconcerting. He silently begged her not to change so that it was like killing an unfamiliar person. He knew exactly how he wanted it to be, what expression he would read in her face and eyes. He wanted to see her hands flutter to the knife and then stop, accepting her fate and his role in it. No, not merely accepting. Embracing. He wanted her to look at his comforting face while her soul finally shrugged off this beautiful yet hindering body, and slipped off to the stars. He didn’t want to kill a stranger; he wanted to murder his d
CHAPTER FORTY NINEStopStop was indeed in the town’s tiny hospital, which was little more than a glorified clinic, really. They delivered babies there and bound up broken bones and put Branny Jacob’s eye back in after Tom Kidd had popped it out with the butt of his knife, though. Twice. “The first time you pop out my eye, shame on you,” the nurse said to Branny after he came to, “but the second time that you do it, shame on meStop lay in bed, hooked up to tubes and monitors and wires. His hospital gown was on backward so they could easily reach in and adjust all manner of medical doodads on his chest, and he had an IV slowly dripping a clear, benign looking substance from a bag into a long tube that ended on the back of his hand.“Oh, Daddy,” Bryony said, dropping to her knees beside the bed. She kissed her father’s shriveled hands and smoothed his white hair away from his gray face. “I have missed you so much, and talking to you on the phone isn’t enough. I need to see you with
CHAPTER FIFTYTeddy BakerThis is what Teddy Baker thought:He thought, “I recognize the look in that man’s eyes. It shone from my own eyes long ago. He is going to kill Bryony, and she seems too weak to notice. That is not like her. Something is wrong.”He thought, “Why is she with him and not with her husband?”He thought, “Am I willing to risk my life to save hers again? It really is her fate to die, it has always been so, and who am I to deny it?”His heart, which had been stretched by his wife, and even more by his baby girl, was big enough to encompass the Star Girl. Besides, he still recalled their one and only kiss, and how it felt, and the sweet sound of her breathing as she leaned toward him, and his certainty that she would not be breathing in the morning if he got his way. That kiss, her breathing, and her guileless gray eyes had made his heart chant the same mantra it was chanting now.Something is wrong. Something is wrong. Something is wrong.And human nature sel
CHAPTER FIFTY ONESorrow“I’m sorry, but I have to be alone for a while,” Bryony said to Peter. He nodded and stepped outside, quietly closing the screen door behind him. Bryony wandered around her childhood home, touching the walls and running her hands over the counters, shiny from years of use. She picked up the phone, called Eddie, and let it ring and ring and ring.“Hey, it’s Eddie. Leave a message, will ya?”There was a beep, and Bryony didn’t know what to say for a long time. She wanted to be positive; she wanted to make sure he didn’t worry. He had so much to concentrate on, after all. But at the same time, she wanted him to realize how hurt she was. She wanted him to be on his knees saying: “Baby, I’m so sorry, please forgive me. How could I ever have been so misguided?” They would then fling themselves at each other and there would be tears and warm kisses and they’d rub the tips of their noses cozily together.Now all was not well, and this very real not-wellness made i
CHAPTER FIFTY TWORescueThere was a tapping on Bryony’s bedroom window. She awoke slowly, groggy and disoriented. The thoughts of her father, Eddie, and her sweet unborn baby slammed into her, and she wearily realized this was life. It wasn’t going to get much better. She had been programmed to flee for the promise and hope of a better world, when perhaps the best thing to do would be turn over and close her eyes so she wouldn’t see the face of death when it overtook her.Then more tapping.Bryony slipped out of bed, opened the window, and peered out onto the street. There stood Teddy Baker, half hidden behind the rough dry brush in the yard.Why, it was her girlhood fantasy come true. How very bizarre.“Teddy, what are you doing here?”Teddy smiled at her. “Nobody calls me Teddy anymore. I’ve gone by Ted for the last ten years.”“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”“No, don’t apologize, Bryony. I like it. It reminds me . . . of a time long ago, and I realize now that is a good thing t
CHAPTER SIXTY ONEThere Is No EndLightning did not hit our sweet Bryony. The same time it flashed, a car came spinning out of nowhere, and its headlights were stark and bright and almost blinded our dear girl. Her heart shivered and stopped momentarily, quite knocked out of sorts by the extreme overload, but soon came back to itself and began to beat resolutely.Car doors slammed and feet hurried over to her.“Bryony!” cried out a voice, a familiar voice, a dear and good voice. Bryony raised her head and looked through the veil of water to see death had been kind enough to send her an angel who looked, sounded, and, oh my, felt just like her Eddie.“Bryony, I will never leave you again, I swear it. Never, never,” he said, and buried his face into her wet hair, and kissed her cold face and lips and cheeks and fingers. He gently caressed her burst stitches and tried not to cry.A man walked up from behind him and held out a blanket. Eddie helped Bryony to her feet and she was soon
CHAPTER SIXTYThe EndOh, what a terrible story!How could it be that we followed Bryony’s journey from the time she was a little girl, ignorant of all that would befall her, through her first kiss and college and meeting friends and Eddie and her tormented killer and her fight to the death, and then she dies in the end?She dies. Bryony falls to the ground like a flower, and we are left to mourn her. More than that, we feel betrayed. We invested time and interest. We cheered her on and we shouted: “No, don’t let that man in your home!” and “Eddie, what are you doing, you must go with Bryony!” and “Hooray, Teddy Baker, you had decency inside of you all along, and we are so very proud of you for your choices!” Perhaps there were even a few thoughts of, “I wonder what a jonquil looks like. I shall certainly run to look one up and educate myself so I may better relate to the tale of Bryony and her Eddie.”Perhaps you are angry, dear reader. Perhaps you hoped better for our girl, beca
CHAPTER FIFTY NINEBlood and Wind and RainThere comes a time in everyone’s life when a decision must be made.There are always decisions being made, every second of every day, and sometimes that decision is simply not to decide. However, it needs be said that one day every living thing on this earth will make The Utmost Decision, the decision that will change the rest of their existence one way or the other. What is this decision, you ask? It is different for everybody, and you will not know what yours will be until the time comes, and perhaps even then you will not realize the importance of your choice.But as for our dear Bryony, when the time came and she was faced with her Utmost Decision, she realized the ramification of that instant with serene clarity. In fact, as she stood there in the blood and wind and rain with a killer and his brightly shining knife, the terror subsided for a perfect moment and she had amazing presence of mind.She thought, “He has found me, and I am
CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHTFight“Bryony,” Peter huffed. “I wish you were feeling better, that you were whole. You have no idea how much I wish this for you. Alas, it is not meant to be, because it is time. You and I have a dance to finish, don’t we?”The wind picked up, blowing the storm their way, blowing Bryony’s hair around her white face like a flag signaling for help. But no help was to be had, and she was stuck fast while Peter pressed behind her, his hand fisted in her hair.Bryony’s head was pulled sharply back, and the wind caressed her vulnerable throat in a way that unnerved her.She tried to keep her voice calm when she said: “I wish that you wouldn’t kill me, Peter. It would disappoint Eddie. It would disappoint my father.”Peter shrugged. “We can’t change who we are, can we? No, we cannot. I was born to live and you were born to die, my beautiful Bryony.” He coughed. “This wind, it’s blowing sand in my face. However do you get used to it? I can’t breathe.”“Just give you
CHAPTER FIFTY SEVENThe ChaseThe first drop of rain hit Bryony beside her eye, and ran down her face like tears.No, she thought. No!She knew Peter was behind her, and her mind went cottony with despair and panic. More time! She needed more time.Bryony picked up her pace. It would deplete her energy faster, but if she didn’t outrun him, her reserve of energy certainly wouldn’t do her any good.She scrapped her earlier plan of hiding in the library and phoning for help. Plan B consisted of running to the closest house and screaming hysterically for help. Unfortunately for her, that was still a good four miles. Loneliness consumed her, biting at her cheeks like the stormy air. It was all catching up with her. It was catching up.It was catching up. Already Peter could see her pale hair gathering and reflecting the weak light that somehow managed to filter through the harsh clouds. She was glowing, an ethereal will-o-wisp, and thoughts of the old tales flitted through his mind.
CHAPTER FIFTY SIXThe KnifeThe thing that must be remembered about Peter is that he, too, is a runner. Whereas Bryony planned to keep a little extra energy in her tank so as to make it the entire five miles, Peter had no such plans. He was sprinting, because he did not need to make it to the edge of town: he only needed to make it to the girl.His feet hit the ground like pistons, cold and mechanical, and he held the knife tightly in his grip, blade down.Oh, oh, how tragically this shall unfold.
CHAPTER FIFTY FIVECloudsThe car wouldn’t start, and Bryony knew this was unusual. Didn’t it start perfectly only today? Hadn’t it been a good and serviceable vehicle? Now, suddenly when she needed it most, it chose to let its internal parts rust and die and spew fluid hither and yon?She didn’t think so.Bryony peeked up and saw a man in the window of her father’s room. At first her heart skidded to a stop—Daddy!—but then she remembered her father was dead, and the man silhouetted there was Peter, and she had been warned against him within the last few hours by two people who cared for her.And she was a kind girl, a tender girl, but she was also a smart girl when her eyes were opened, and her father and Teddy succeeded in opening her eyes. Peter didn’t move from the window, and his body language told Bryony he was most likely off in a world of his own, so she used this to her advantage. She opened the car door as quietly as she could, slid out, and hit the ground doing what she
CHAPTER FIFTY FOURIdeallyPeter woke up with a start. Something was wrong. What was it? What was it?He was somewhere unfamiliar, and this realization had him on his feet beside the bed in no time. Had he been caught? Had he been taken? He would rather die before being taken, and he didn’t remember a struggle of any sort whatsoever.A quick scan of the room jogged his memory. Ah, yes. This was Stop’s house, the home where Bryony grew up, and he was sleeping in the bed of a dead man, but being who he was meant this didn’t bother him any. Stop had seemed like a good and decent man, and heaven knows his daughter adored him, and the fact that he had disliked Peter on sight, well, it only said good things about him, too.Downstairs Bryony would be sleeping, curled up on her side with, he imagined, her fingers close to her mouth like a child. She had fallen asleep in her clothes, but if she had the time to choose whatever she wanted to wear, would she be wearing a white nightgown to co
CHAPTER FIFTY THREEPlease LiveBryony nodded, and clutched the shoes to her chest like a talisman.“Thank you so much, Teddy. It can’t be easy to come here and say this to me. In my heart I think I always knew Peter was what you say, but I don’t want to believe that, you see. It means I have been foolish, which I have, and that Eddie has been blind, which he has. It means I should have run a long time ago, and I didn’t, and now I am sorry. It means when he saved me, he didn’t do it because he’s a good person, and I so dearly want him to be a good person. Please thank your wife for me, and kiss your beautiful girl, and take care of my father for me. Place him in the desert, and let him tamp it down and hold it back. I fear I shall never return here. Never again. I have nothing to come back for.”Teddy leaned through the window, kissed Bryony on her cheek and ran his hand over the stitches on her face.“I wish I could help more than this, but I can’t. Please live, sweet girl. You g