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By the time they trudged up the steps, Macy thought she might collapse right then and there. Everything pulsated and shimmered, unreal in a way that she’d never experienced. Though she found it hard to focus, a voice in her head—Miriam’s, to be exact—told her she had a concussion. What did that even mean? The pounding in her head kept her from remembering anything she knew. She pushed on through sheer force of will, though, knowing that she’d have to find some way to counteract the effects.
She had to stay up. She couldn’t leave Olivia alone.
After fumbling with the doorknob for far too long, Olivia offered her own help and opened the door. Her huge, wide eyes stared up in fear. Macy tried to offer a reassuring smile, but her face didn’t feel like it worked quite right, and she worried that she looked more awkward than inviting.
Once inside, she managed to close the door before her stomach suddenly lurched with the threat of vomit. She tried to remember the way to the bathroom, couldn’t, and settled for rushing into Kat’s room where she remembered something about her dad and a jacuzzi tub.
It seemed the gross memories were easy to recall.
Tucked in the corner, not even in the bathroom, sat a huge tub with elegant marble steps. Macy scrambled up the first one, fell down to rest her knees on the second, and wretched in pain as the remains of her barbecue coated the dusty white floor of the jacuzzi. At least she made it to something she could easily wash.
“Are you okay?”
Olivia stood in the doorway of Kat’s room, as if by entering she might contract whatever afflicted Macy. Macy wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her coat and again tried to smile.
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
Her stomach felt better at least, so she didn’t believe she had completely lied. The king-sized bed in the middle of the room looked inviting, but the only thing Macy could even remember about concussions was that she shouldn’t sleep. She couldn’t remember what would happen if she did. Death, probably, she decided, if for no other reason than the motivation to stay awake.
Walking up the stairs to get her toothbrush sounded impossible, so she instead found her way into the attached bathroom and rinsed her mouth out with water from the tap. It tasted slightly of sulfur. Well water. Yuck. Better than vomit with a hint of barbecue sauce, though.
While she tried to study herself in the darkened mirror, her heart jumped when the lights came on. Olivia stood by the light switch, grinning.
“The lights are back!” she exclaimed.
Macy would take small miracles where she could get them, though she did wonder what had magically made the power return. She’d been so sure that a breaker had been the culprit of the loss.
“We need to lock the doors,” Macy said, trying to focus back in on the biggest threat. “And the windows.” Silently, she added rinsing out the tub to her to-do list.
Obviously unmotivated to tackle the task on her own, Olivia stood and waited. Macy stumbled back out into the bedroom and went to work on one of the windows there. With the example, Olivia worked on the other, but it didn’t do much good. She was too short to reach the locks. Macy secured the second once she finished the first.
Slowly and methodically, they went together to each door and window on the bottom floor, securing the locks and drawing the blinds. Macy didn’t know if drawing the blinds would provide any safety at all, but it made her feel better when she couldn’t see what might be outside. Still afraid of her inability to climb stairs, she decided to skip the second floor. Surely pigs wouldn’t be able to climb trees. Or fly. The thought of pigs flying made her unexpectedly laugh out loud.
“What?” Olivia asked.
“Uh, nothing,” Macy said. “I just thought of a joke.”
She wondered whether she’d normally find that funny. Maybe concussions could also confer delirium.
“I wanna hear it,” Olivia said.
Moving to the next window, Macy replied, “I’ll tell you all about when we’re done here.”
They finished the task in silence. Satisfied that they’d made the house as safe as possible, Macy went back to the master bedroom with Olivia in tow. She felt her stomach threaten another revolt when the smell of her vomit hit her, but she pushed it down, turned the spigots and used her hand to splash the water in such a way that everything eventually slipped down the drain. Having that cleaned made her feel better, as if now she could forget that she might be too sick to protect them.
Macy slipped out of her coat and threw it into the bathtub. It smelled bad, and she hardly had time to do laundry. She sat on one of the marble steps and reached out to Olivia who stood in front of her.
“Here,” she said. “Let me look at you. Does anything hurt?”
Olivia shook her head.
Macy scanned the front of Olivia’s body and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. No tears or rips. Nothing to indicate that she’d been cut. That didn’t rule out bruising or internal bleeding, but what did it matter anyway? She didn’t know how to even check for that, and even if she did, Macy couldn’t do anything for either of those problems.
“Twirl for me,” she said. Olivia complied and Macy examined the girl’s back as well. Still nothing. It seemed impossible that Olivia came out of the wreck unscathed.
Cradling her head in her hands, she felt flakes of dried blood on her scalp. Her chest ached. It all seemed so hopeless now. Kat was gone, and it felt like her dad would never get there. Olivia needed her and she couldn’t do anything except forget to charge her phone, wreck the car, and almost get them killed. She didn’t know what else to even do, so she just gave in to the overwhelming emotions of it all and cried. The tears came freely and warmly down her cheeks.
Olivia sat down on the steps and rested her head on Macy’s bicep. Shame washed over Macy as she realized that she’d finally broken. In front of Olivia, no less. She’d been trying so hard not to.
“It’s okay,” she said. “You’ll feel better after a shower. That’s what mommy always does when she’s sad.”
Macy let out a gurgled laugh. A shower did sound pretty good, but she worried that the warmth of the spray would just make her sleepier. Unless she took a cold shower. Maybe that would actually help her stay awake.
She sniffled and gingerly wrapped an arm around Olivia. “That’s a pretty good idea you’ve got there.”
She gently unraveled herself from Olivia and stood to make her way to the bathroom. Her legs felt unsteady, but not enough to stop her from standing long enough to take a shower.
“Can I stay in here with you?” Olivia asked from the doorway.
“Of course,” Macy said, turning on the bathroom light and motioning to the closed toilet.
Olivia took a seat. After closing and locking the door, Macy looked in the mirror and hardly recognized herself. In just a few short hours, her youthful exuberance had melted into blood-caked worry. Then again, she hadn’t really felt exuberant for a while. Maybe she’d left it back in Rose Valley. She undid her ponytail. Her red hair popped around her face, frizzy and unruly and beholden only to the cold humidity of Hogg Run.
Crossing in front of Olivia, she cranked the cold spigot up as high as it would go and pulled the knob to switch it to the shower. It sputtered at first, then resolved into steady stream of sulfur-infused water. She ran her hand under the stream and tried not to recoil from the frigidity. Deciding a little heat wouldn’t be the worst thing, she turned the other spigot.
While she waited for it to warm up, Macy pulled her hoodie over her head and let it fall to the floor, stepping back to the mirror to examine her bare chest. A red line marked her breasts where the seatbelt had saved her, but the skin didn’t seem to be broken. There was no blood. She touched it gingerly and winced at the pain. There’d certainly be a bruise, but she hoped no scarring.
Leaning forward, she tried to get a better look at the wound on her head, but with all her hair, she couldn’t find the source of the dried blood. Maybe after the shower, she’d have better luck.
She checked the water temperature, then stripped out of her wet shoes, socks and panties before stepping into the shower. She drew the curtain and shivered as the water ran across her skin, stroking her arms. She hated the temperature, but this is what she needed, she told herself. She couldn’t stay awake without it.
She hissed as she placed her head under the stream. It felt as though the water pressure would tear open her head wound. She didn’t find it in the mirror, but now she knew for certain that it sat somewhere near her hairline.
“Are you okay?” Olivia asked from the other side of the curtain.
“Yeah,” Macy said. “Just hurts a little.”
“You’re very brave.”
Macy laughed. She didn’t feel brave at all. She groaned and clutched her chest as the motion aggravated the injury there. “You’re pretty brave yourself.”
“Mama always said you were super brave,” Olivia said. “She said you fought monsters and won.”
More like she’d been present while Miriam fought monsters and won.
“You don’t have to fight monsters to be brave,” Macy said.
“My friend says monsters aren’t real. But you’ve seen them, right? Are they scary?”
“Every time.”
Olivia took some time in thought before asking, “Are you going to kill the pig-monster?”
Macy considered the question. It hardly seemed the priority. She didn’t want to kill anything. She wanted to survive. She wanted to make sure the two of them made it to safety and that someone went out looking for Kat.
“If I have to,” she finally said.
When Olivia didn’t continue the conversation, Macy went about half-heartedly washing herself with years-old body wash. She had no intention of washing her hair, even though she knew it needed it. She already regretted even getting it wet in the first place. As the minutes passed, the almost-cold water sharpened her focus. She began to feel more alert, almost like her old self. The cold numbed the pain, though she could also feel it locking up her joints, making each movement stiffer than before.
She looked longingly at the hot water knob as she finished washing, tempted to crank it up. Just for a minute. Before getting out. It would feel so good.
But Macy decided she was clean enough and turned off the water. She stood shivering for a moment, watching drops fall from her body into the tub.
Macy peeked out from the curtain again to see that Olivia already busied herself with fetching an over-sized beach towel from below the sink. Macy took the offering, dried herself off, and wrapped it around her chest tightly enough to use it as a makeshift robe. She expected the pressure of it against her chest to hurt more than it actually did, so she took that as a good sign. A sign that maybe she wouldn’t be in too much pain before long. She’d need clothes next, and that meant climbing the stairs. She looked around the bright, happy room to see how much it spun. Not too much. She could probably make it upstairs without breaking her neck.
“Can you get my phone?” Macy asked as she stepped out of the shower. “From my coat pocket out in the jacuzzi.”
Olivia got up and unlocked the bathroom door, pulling it wide, before disappearing into the bedroom. Macy didn’t have much hope that the screen would work, but maybe if she could unlock it with her face, she could get Google to do some of the work for her. A text. A call. Something. Anything to make sure her dad was on the way.
As she took a step away from the shower and towards the door, her stomach dropped as a scream pierced into the room. Not like the mysterious creature from the woods.
From Olivia.
***
Macy scrambled through the door without stopping to think about what she’d be able to do (or not do) in a towel. She just rushed towards the sound of Olivia’s voice. They ran into one another and Macy caught her by the shoulders.
“What’s—” Macy started, then registered someone else in the room.
“Oh,” said a voice. “I’m... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She locked eyes with the old man from the house across the way, leaning against his cane. His expression threatened more than it welcomed. She glanced towards the gun she’d left on the end table, wondering if she’d be able to get to it fast enough to protect them. She liked her chances.
Macy pulled Olivia towards her and held her tightly against the wet towel covering her body.
“What do you want?” Macy asked.
He glanced furtively at the wooden floor. “I just... I got your power back on. The main breaker was flipped.”
That explained the lights, but they’d locked all the doors. All the windows. “How’d you get in here?”
He held up his right hand to reveal the glint of a silver key. “Spare key. They, uh... left it with me in case of an emergency.”
Macy nodded. Olivia squirmed, but Macy didn’t free her grip.
“Where’s Ms. Baker?”
The way he asked the question made her skin crawl. If she’d entertained the idea of asking for help before, something about his demeanor gave her pause.
“Donner,” Macy corrected.
“Huh?”
“Her name is Mrs. Donner now.”
“Oh,” the old man said, rocking back on his heels. “Right. She’s married to your dad. That’s what you said earlier. My mind ain’t what it used to be.” He paused, studied her face, then said, “Noticed the van’s gone. What happened?”
Macy hesitated when she should have immediately used the opportunity to get help. Though he hadn’t done anything threatening, she still felt deep in her core that something was off about this guy. She pushed away her misgivings. “We were on our way to Glenbury to get some groceries. Had some car trouble.” Not the full truth, but enough of it. “Do you have a phone we could borrow? So we can get the van towed?”
“Not on me, but back at the house. Why don’t you come on over when you’re all dressed?”
He stared at her for a few seconds. Macy wondered what he was thinking, unable to shake the feeling that he was trying to imagine what she looked like under the towel. She almost asked if he was enjoying the view, but he turned to leave before she did. Just as well, she didn’t want to cause anything. Not when she didn’t have a way out.
Waiting for him to cross the living room and exit the front door took forever. Only when she heard the door close did she release her grip on Olivia. Adrenaline pumped through Macy’s veins, providing more mental clarity than she’d felt since the wreck.
Something didn’t add up, but she couldn’t bother herself with that now. She grabbed the gun on the end table before inching out into the living room. Part of her thought maybe he’d staged his exit and waited to ambush them.
No sign of him, though. She moved to the front door and glanced out the nearby window to see him still making his way back. Every light in the plantation house was on now.
“Are you okay?” Macy asked Olivia as they made their way up the stairs. Her legs felt more wobbly than she liked, but each step felt steadier.
“Yeah,” Olivia said behind her.
Macy considered having a whole conversation about men and danger, but decided that was a matter best left for Kat. She swallowed hard at the thought. Hopefully there was still a Kat to have that talk with Olivia down the road.
Once they made it to Macy’s room, she drew the blinds closed. It faced away from the plantation house, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling that someone would be watching. She needed to be ready for more than a sleepover this time, so she found a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt pullover, a clean bra and underwear, and some thick socks. Olivia sat on the bed while she dressed.
Covered from head to toe, she felt safer now. “What do you think?”
Olivia gave her a thumbs up before reaching into her coat pocket to remove Macy’s phone. Apparently, she’d managed to snag it before running into the old man. Macy took it eagerly and held it up to her now-clean face. The lock on the front jiggled the way it did when it couldn’t find a match. She lowered it, composed herself, and tried to make her face look “normal”—exceptionally hard when thinking about it.
A second try also failed. Was it too much to ask for just a modicum of luck? She sighed and slipped the phone into the pocket of her sweatshirt. With electricity, the house felt considerably less terrifying, but she still longed for some contact with the outside world. She didn’t feel right just waiting when Kat might be in danger.
“What do you say?” Macy asked. “Should we go see that old man?”
Olivia twisted up her mouth, capturing the exact feelings that Macy had on the subject. But she had a gun, and he could barely walk. Both could easily outrun him, if they had to.
With a shrug, Macy said, “We need to call Dad. And that old man said we can use his phone.”
Macy didn’t know how to reason with a seven-year-old and didn’t know what she’d do if Olivia refused, but luckily she didn’t. She just pushed off the bed onto her feet.
They made their way downstairs, unlocked the front door, and stepped back out onto the porch.
Back into the drizzling cold.
Back into the monster-infested woods.
Back into danger.
