Dead Spots (25 page)

“That's true,” Loretta admitted. Freeing both of Mackenzie's feet from her boots and socks, Loretta set about treating the leaking blisters. Her touch was gentle and careful.

“So when I restore something, the dead spot is basically eating a piece of me.” Everything in this world was monstrous.

“A little nibble,” Loretta assured her with a big smile.

“Or a big one like when that one dead spot created Tanner to torment you,” Grant added.

“Or did I make Tanner back at the house we stayed in last night?” Mackenzie stared at Grant intently. The thought terrified her. What if she was creating her own hell?

“I don't know,” Grant answered.

“Did Tildy make the Clown up? Or was he real? Or did I make him?” Had her own fears created the perfect killing ground to snag Tildy?

Grant lowered his head, his fingers sliding through his hair. “I don't know.”

“What do you know, Grant?”

“That I'm trying to protect you, Mackenzie! I'm trying to keep you safe and to keep you away from people and things that will hurt you! But you keep fighting me! Over and over again!” He slammed his hand on the table, making it jump.

Loretta ignored him, applying bandages to the balls of Mackenzie's feet and the backs of her ankles.

“That's not true!”

“It's very true, Mackenzie! I warn you and you don't listen. When I saw Tildy I knew she was on the verge of becoming a wraith. I even told you that when you wanted to save her from the Clown. But did you listen? No! And now that wraith is going to be hunting you just like the ones who took on the forms of Tanner and your mother earlier today. I've told you over and over again to listen to me. I have lived here long enough to know how to survive!” Grant looked up at her, his eyes blazing. “I want to help you, but you fight me. It makes no sense to me! You look like a lost doe, but then this angry mountain lion comes roaring out. Things go wrong, and then the doe is back, just as lost as before and usually wounded.”

Grant's words shocked her into silence. Mackenzie was well aware of the fact that she was broken into pieces and wanted nothing more than to be whole again, but no one ever seemed to understand that truth. When she was a little girl, her mother had instilled fear of the world inside of her, and then scoffed when Mackenzie needed her most. Estelle always blamed Mackenzie for every misstep her daughter took in life, never allowing her to forget her many mistakes. Her mother had a list in her head that she could rattle off at a moment's notice, even reiterating things Mackenzie had done as a small child that she had no memory of doing. For a while embracing her anger had been the only way Mackenzie could find her voice or fight back. Even Tanner said she was as sweet as pie as long as she wasn't angry. In this new world, it was anger that helped her fight fear. Anger had helped her stand up to the wraiths that had taken on the forms of her ex-husband and mother and given her the fuel to charge in to the amusement park. She was actually happy to feel anger after only feeling despair for so long.

“Mackenzie, if you would listen to me, let me guide you, let me protect you, surviving in this world would be so much easier. Trust in me. Believe in me. Let me save you.”

Was he right? Mackenzie reflected on the day. Her determination to go to the café had resulted in her attack by the mourners. Her insistence on saving Tildy had resulted in Tildy's death and new incarnation as a wraith.

“I don't like to be told what to do,” Mackenzie confessed.

Loretta sat in silence, tucking away the bandages and ointments in the first aid kit.

Grant sat back, watching her, waiting for her to continue.

“My whole life people have told me what to do, how to behave, what to fear, what to love. It wasn't until I met Tanner that I actually felt I had a say in my life. I chose him. I chose to be his wife and to have his child. I was really happy with those choices. And then it all went wrong. I messed up somehow and Joshua died and Tanner … left.” Mackenzie stared at her bandaged toes, not really wanting to see the pity in Grant's eyes. “Then everyone started to tell me what to do again. My mother, my friends, my in-laws … Tanner. Do this. Do that. I didn't even get a choice to stay in my house after I lost my job. I just—” Mackenzie faltered. “I'm tired of people telling me what to do.”

“I understand, Mackenzie. I do. But I need you to listen to me. To obey me—”

She bristled instantly, but he continued.

“—when I tell you there is danger. I don't want you to become what Tildy was. Or what she is now. I can take care of you if you let me. I know what is going on in this world. You're still learning. Trust me, Mackenzie.”

Mackenzie closed her eyes and rested her head on her hand, her elbow pressing into the top of the table. She was being foolish and hardheaded, just like her mother always accused her of being. Slowly, she nodded her head. “Okay.”

The silence that answered her surrender prompted her to open her eyes. Loretta was gone.

“Where—”

“She vanished when you agreed to let me take care of you,” Grant answered.

“Oh.” Mackenzie slumped in her chair, unnerved by her capitulation.

Grant slowly closed the first aid kit, popping the latches in place. “We need to get cleaned up and rest.”

Wincing, Mackenzie set her feet on the floor.

“No, no. I'll carry you,” Grant said, standing.

She started to protest, but stopped herself. Her feet hurt too much for her to endure climbing up the stairs.

Swinging her up into his arms, Grant carried her to the second floor.

 

CHAPTER 16

There were gigantic creatures beyond the walls of the upstairs bedroom. Curled up against the wrought iron headboard of the bed, she huddled under the covers listening to the booming thumps of something very big passing by the house. In the distance eerie high screeches sent shivers racing along her spinal cord. Nervously chewing on her thumbnail, Mackenzie fervently wished that the creatures would ignore the farmhouse and continue on their way. She could hear them wandering through the fields and woods around the house. The loud fluttering of wings filled the night and she worriedly stared at the window on the far side of the room. The curtains were drawn and she had earlier shoved a dresser in front of it. The soft luminescent light cast by the lamp beside the bed played along the edge of a butcher knife she had brought up from the kitchen. The presence of the knife was no longer comforting as the noises increased. Regardless of Grant's assurances that they were safe in the dead spot she had fashioned as a safe haven, Mackenzie was still afraid.

After a long nap, Mackenzie had taken a long bath, redressed her sore feet, and brushed out her damp hair. Soon after she'd started to hear bizarre noises. She'd crept to the bedroom window and peeked out, afraid of what she might see in the fading light of the day. In the field behind the barn, balloons were tethered to a tattered scarecrow. Her hysterics had brought Grant running and instigated an hour of moving furniture in front of windows and barricading the doors.

Grant had finally started to lighten up after they'd secured the house and had another small meal. Mackenzie had been surprised to find that the television worked and they had ended up watching shows from the early eighties. It was strange watching what appeared to be a live broadcast, full of local commercials, breaking news, and trailers for movies Mackenzie had long forgotten about.

Now she regretted telling him she wanted to sleep alone after they'd decided to go upstairs. They could've easily dragged another mattress into the room, but she had felt vulnerable after relenting to his insistence that she allow him to take charge of their survival. She needed some time alone to sort out her thoughts and get her bearings after admitting some uncomfortable truths about herself in the last twenty-four hours. It wasn't difficult to realize her spurts of defiant anger were definitely tied to her difficult interaction with her very paranoid mother.

Grant hadn't been too pleased with the idea, but he'd finally relented. She hadn't been surprised when he'd set up a bed for himself right outside the bedroom door. The fact that he wanted to protect her was rather touching and it made her feel safe. It was an added comfort that he had armed himself with a rifle he had found earlier in the downstairs office.

Another loud crash sounded, this time much closer. The noise continued, building in volume. A low rumble was accompanied by a sharp resounding crack. Sliding out of bed, she set her heavily padded feet on the floor and ventured to the window. The din quieted outside and with a trembling hand she tugged at the edge of the curtain to peer outside.

In the glow of the waning moon, the barn lay in ruins. The remains of the rafters poked out of the wreckage. The thick planks were snapped in half, their ends splintered. Whatever had destroyed the building had to be nearby, yet she saw nothing lurking in the dark. She couldn't imagine what could have done such damage.

A loud bellow made her jump, the fabric of the curtain slipping from her fingers. Hobbling to the bed, she forced herself to take a few deep breaths, trying to calm her frantic heart. All night she had been struggling to fight off a crippling anxiety attack. She knew it would eventually take her into its depths, but she was determined to fight it as long as possible.

“Mackenzie,” Grant's voice said at the door. “Are you awake?”

“Duh!” Mackenzie grabbed the rail at the end of the bed and pulled herself around it onto the mattress. “Godzilla is busting stuff up out there.”

A low chuckle of amusement on the other side of the door made her smile. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” She was clad in a faded flowered nightgown, several layers of socks, and a bathrobe that had belonged to Loretta. It felt odd to be wearing someone else's clothes, but her own attire had needed a good wash. She was shivering despite the warmth of the blankets and another howl in the distance had her scrambling to get under the covers.

The door creaked open and Grant peered in around the edge of it. “Are you sure you're okay? It's a very active night.” He'd found an enormous pair of men's pajamas and a robe to wear. He was virtually drowning in it. Loretta's husband had evidently been a big guy.

An earsplitting shriek made Mackenzie wince. “Any idea why it's this bad? It wasn't this way last night.”

“It's nighttime in the real world. People are having nightmares. There's a large town nearby. This could be overflow from there. Or there could be people near us that are manifesting the creatures.” Grant slipped over to the window. He, too, peered out. “The barn is outside this dead spot, in case you were wondering.”

“That's a comfort,” Mackenzie lied. “So the people who might be near us would be like us, right?”

Grant inclined his head, dropping the edge of the curtain.

“It can't be Tildy,” she said, her sorrow feeding the dark wave.

“No, it can't be. Though she could be out there.” Grant leaned against the dresser, his arms crossed.

The creaking and cracking of trees being torn asunder before tumbling to the ground startled both of them. The cries and growls of nightmare creatures filled Mackenzie with dread. She yanked the covers up to her chin and listened to the battle. Grant, too, was silent, his expression pensive.

“They're outside the dead spot,” Grant said after a half minute of scrutinizing the noises of the fighting beasts.

For a little while that night, Mackenzie had enjoyed the serenity of the farmhouse and had toyed with the idea of staying another day. Now she couldn't wait to be away from this area and its dreadful inhabitants.

“It sounds like some kid has a bad dinosaur obsession,” she observed.

“Or dragons. I've seen plenty of those.”

“Not helping.”

A thunderous roar sent the window vibrating and the walls shaking.

Mackenzie gave out a startled yelp.

“Mackenzie, don't give in to your fear. It's outside the dead spot. You created a safe haven here. We're safe. Believe me.”

“Grant, telling someone not to give in to their fear is like throwing gasoline on a fire. I'm already scared shitless and when you say that I only get more freaked out!”

“Well, you shouldn't!”

“But I do because it's pretty damn clear that it's my responsibility to keep those things out of this so-called safe haven!” Her stomach was roiling and she felt nauseous.

“Listen.”

“What?”

“It's quiet now.” Grant smiled with satisfaction. “See?”

“See what? That one big dinosaur or dragon killed the other one?” Mackenzie's head was throbbing and she wished she could fall asleep. Maybe then she wouldn't be tortured by the raucous noise outside and not be tormented with images of what could be causing it.

His expression softening, Grant approached the bed and stretched out a hand to touch her forehead gently. “I think you're a little feverish.”

Tucking a stack of pillows under her, Mackenzie sighed. “It was a rough day. Everything hurts. My feet, my back, my legs. My neck is killing me.”

With a very light touch, Grant rested his hand on her shoulder. “You're very tense.”

“Do you blame me?”

His hand was very warm against her skin in a soothing way. “Let me give you a neck rub, Mackenzie. You're too knotted up to sleep comfortably and you need your rest.” His voice was neutral.

Looking over her shoulder at him, she saw concern filling his features. If he was coming on to her, it was so low key it was impossible to detect. Her mother's voice in her head screamed that he was trying to have sex with her, but Mackenzie ignored it. Finally she said, “That would be nice.”

Sliding onto the bed next to her, Grant rubbed her sore shoulders and neck. It felt wonderful and her eyes closed contentedly. During her pregnancy Tanner had often given her neck rubs to release the tension that always built there. The thought of her ex-husband made her body ache. She missed him with all her heart. Not the cold, closed-off person he had been at the end, but the warm, sweet man she had married.