31

 

Praying as I worked, I scrubbed and cleaned the mess made by the man who attacked my family. I found the work numbing and, before long, I had erased as much of that terrible night as I could. Through tears and whispered pleas, a peace settled over me and now, barely an hour later, I gathered my things and waited.

I sat on the old leather couch in my parent’s living quarters, hands resting on the Bible in my lap.

Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.

I repeated the verse in Hebrews to myself.

I am not alone. I am crushed, but not broken.

“I can board my own vessel.” My father’s voice came from below on the boards of the boat slip.

My nerves jangled.

The boat moved, followed by my mother’s concerned words. As they appeared on the deck, I stood, my throat tight.

“Mama?”

“Little bird,” My mother’s delighted smile greeted me, and then fell away when she approached. “Are you feeling ill?”

My father came up behind her, his face tight. “What has happened?”

I motioned for them to sit in the loveseat facing the sofa. “I have to tell you something,” I whispered. “About the night I left and why I need to leave once more.”

The moved in tandem, hands clasped, and I ached for what they had, and gave thanks that they had each other.

“The past is the past,” My father said, his expression pleading. “Let it go.”

“That is what I am trying to do, Papa,” I said, and took my place opposite them. “But first, you must listen…”

 

****

 

I did not want to return to the boardwalk, but my things were still there in Siyah’s loft, and I prayed as I drove my family’s small golf cart that he would still be…well, that he would not be there.

Meaning to explain to Sonja when I arrived, I rehearsed what I would say to her. I’d promised to stay to help her, but my presence brought only danger and division.

Thompson would not be happy to have a witness in the murder of Niklos leave, but what I saw he had on paper and I could not offer more than that.

Siyah kept his truck in a space in the farthest area of the boardwalk near the Black Adder and it appeared to be empty, so I parked in front of the building that contained his loft. I huddled in the canvas covering of the cart, unsure of what to say. I glanced up at the picture window overlooking the grounds. I remembered standing at the glass talking with Siyah and seeing the way he lived. He’d hugged me then, nearly kissed me in his home, and I realized that I’d been in Siyah’s arms only a few days ago.

Raindrops pattered on the plastic windshield and spurred me to hurry. I would just make the last ferry before they suspended trips ahead of the next bigger storm that was closing in. Moving as fast as I could, I ran to the loft, shoved my clothes, art supplies and plane ticket in my overnight bag and headed back out. He could not find me here. If he did…

Back at the golf cart, as I fought with aching fingers to re-tie the canvas covering blown free by the wind, I saw a woman move across the pavement by the roller coaster. Titan’s wooden arches loomed over her, the human form recognizable in the rain only by the flowing material of the dress it wore.

“Sonja?” My words, snatched by the wind, did not make her turn.

I took a step to follow, sure by the dark braids that it must be her. Where was she headed in this weather? She kept going, slipping behind a pylon and out of sight. Was she meeting someone? Was she searching for me? I moved towards her, pulling my sweater tight against the freezing rain. I shivered as the wet spikes bored in between my clothes, chilling me, and my chattering teeth sounded so loud in my head. I traced her path under Titan’s creaking tracks, the dank smell of rotting wood and rusty bolts assaulted me as I ventured further into the beams of the structure. Dark crowded around me, the light of the sun pushed out by encroaching shadows.

“Sonja?” Turned around, I squinted in the dim light poking through in shafts between the slats overhead. Wind howled a path along the lumber, whipping my hair and throwing water into my eyes. Thinking I’d lost her, I peered up, trying to get my bearings in the grid of wood and beams. The light changed, darkening as the storm stirred over Noble. Lighting flashed, blinding me as a rippling roar tore across the landscape. I froze, spotting her form on the tracks above.

“How?” I watched her dress thrash in the torrent of rain as she climbed.

In the dark of Titan’s underbelly, a moan warbled from the shadows, and then rose in volume until the scream pushed into me and filled my ears and head with the anguished cry. I flattened myself against the nearest pylon, gasping breaths, waiting.

Overhead, sobs fell from the tracks. Wracking shrieks I’d heard before. Crawley’s mother made those sounds as she hunched over the broken body of her son.

“T–this isn’t real,” I croaked. “This isn’t real.”

Fear vaulted into anger. Everything was gone. I’d lost everything to Noble, but I would not lose my mind on this island. Fisting my hands, I pushed off and ran to the tracks. I climbed onto the lowest section, tearing my fingernails and shaking with the strain of it, desperate to end this horror one way or the other.

Ahead, she lurched ever higher, the drenched material snapping in the wind. Closer now, I realized that the hair was wrong somehow, the body much larger than my sister’s. I hesitated, dizzy from the cold and height.

A jagged vein traced across the sky, and I gritted my teeth as the answering roar rocked the wobbly tracks. Three stories over the asphalt, I looked down at the drop and fought the fear roiling in my chest.

“Stop!” I shouted. “Who are you?”

The form turned, its disfigured face starkly lit with the flickering lightning overhead.

I screamed, and staggered back. I caught movement behind me a split second before a violent shove sent me flying over the edge.