Voracious - Alice Henderson [59]
After a stretch of silence, Madeline said, “I think I really like this guy.”
“I can see why. He’s hot.”
“And nice. And he has a noble quality about him, too.”
“Your knight in shining armor come to take you away from all this madness?”
“Or maybe to take me into all this madness.”
“That’s not as good.”
“I know,” Madeline answered, nodding in the darkness. She watched her glimmering friend, remembering the curve of her brow, the mischievous look she could get in her eye, all the years of happiness they’d had, and all the years that had been taken.
“I miss you.”
Ellie met her eyes, sadness glistening there.
They sat in silence then, Madeline not sure of what to say, not needing to say anything. That had been their way in life. They understood without needing to say much.
Finally Madeline closed the latch on the small silver box, Ellie’s image shimmering, then vanishing into the darkness. She set the journal aside, her mind drawn back to the Sickle Moon Killer, the story fresh now in her mind. She could distinctly picture his face, that terrible knowledge that he’d been caught, the desperation, needing to get rid of them. She lay awake nights sometimes, terrified he’d escaped from the penitentiary and was on his way to her house. Or worse, already there, breathing laboriously outside her bedroom door, seething with hatred and waiting to crush the life out of her in revenge. The fear hadn’t stopped until she learned he’d been killed in that fight.
Her mind traveled over what was to come tomorrow if she agreed to Noah’s plea for help. They’d drive out to the cabin where the creature was holed up for its “digestion period.” She cringed inwardly. She’d feel any belongings it had there, see if she could get a fix on any future victims. Maybe she would, and then they’d go to the police. They’d contact her hometown police station, or maybe they’d remember reading about her from the Sickle Moon Killer case files. They’d either ridicule her or ask her to participate in the investigation. Maybe they’d even save the next victim’s life and catch the killer. What if they wanted more? Piles of dead-end grisly cases, one after the other? This time she couldn’t use the excuse of being fourteen years old. Now she was twenty-one and was supposed to be deciding her future. People would expect her to “do the right thing,” to give up her innocence and happiness in the service of others, to use her “gift” to identify other killers. They wouldn’t consider the horrific images and acts she’d have to relive while acquiring visions. They wouldn’t consider the empty black-hole ache that consumed her after she’d encountered the Sickle Moon Killer. She’d become a hollow, bleak shell.
She alone had to consider herself. And she didn’t want that kind of life.
She wanted to transfer to her new college, engage in normal college activities. Go to parties, take fun classes, hell, even write term papers and cram for biology finals on hydrophilic cells and mitochondria. She wanted people to know her for who she was, not her bizarre talent. She wanted people to act normal around her.
She glanced toward the bedroom door. Noah had been hunting this thing for two centuries. He had a weapon but had been unsuccessful thus far. She thought of the endless list of victims he was unable to save. Why would she be any different? She didn’t need to hang around him, waiting to be murdered, so much bait waiting in a tackle shop.
Looking out the window at the darkness beyond, she suddenly thought of the goat in Jurassic Park, the one tied to the post in wait for the Tyrannosaurus rex.
The urge to run suddenly became intolerable. Listen to your instincts, she thought. Know when to get the hell out of here. Lying still for a moment, she listened for sounds from Noah’s room. Silence. Turning her head, she looked at the door. It was still open a crack, and darkness lay beyond. She was almost sure he was asleep. Quietly she peeled the yellow blanket back and swung her feet to the floor. Her own clothes, the pair of jeans and long-sleeved cotton shirt, lay draped