Authors: Nia Davenport
I grab her by the shoulders before she can fall apart again and force her to look at me. “It’s okay,” I tell her. “I believe you.”
“You..you do?” She asks. “Why?”
Because when Cordero was telling us about the skinwalkers today and he mentioned the red glowing eyes this prickly feeling came over me that left the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.
“Listen Daniella,” I tell her deciding to go with the truth. My logic is cruel, but she’s too afraid of her parents thinking that she is crazy to repeat what I’m going to say. “You have Cordero’s Native American Culture elective for fifth period right?”
She shakes her head yes.
“Did he tell your class about the skinwalkers at the end?”
She shakes her head again, but more guarded this time.
“I know
I
will probably sound crazy when I’m saying this and
you
probably won’t believe it, but I don’t think Trey was killed by an animal. I think…I think Cordero’s skinwalker legend may be true and Trey was killed by one of them.”
Which means Camille was too and that that is what really attacked Derek and me by the lake.
Ever since Cordero’s mention of it, I keep seeing the red eyes of the abnormally massive wolf that came out of the trees. It’s the reason why I ducked into the bathroom in the first place. I needed to feel the cold splash of water against my face to get a grip.
Daniella looks at me startled then nods her head. “I believe you. And I
know
the skinwalker legend is true. Just like I know the thing I keep seeing is one of them in Trey’s skin.”
Wait?! What?!
How does she know that?
My arms drop from her shoulders and I take a weary step backwards. I grip my messenger bag that has the silver knives in it.
“I’m not one of them,” Daniella rushes out sensing my unease. “My grandmother is Navajo. When I was younger and she lived with us she used to tell me stories about the priests that turned skinwalkers. I never believed them. I thought they were just creepy Navajo bedtime stories. I got the feeling that they weren’t when I saw Trey being attacked by the wolf. His eyes were bloodshot red and I swear it was like it wasn’t thinking like an animal. The way it moved, the calculated way it tore at Trey’s chest to kill not maim, and the way it sensed you and Derek coming and ran off was done in a way that can only be described as human. It was rational and
thinking
when it did those things. The first time I saw Trey I thought okay maybe I’m just tripping after seeing him die. This is normal. The second time I thought the same thing. But today, I know something was really there that looked like him. It looked right at me when I looked at it. It
smiled
at me like it was mocking me. It started towards me but the bell rang and it disappeared.”
“Okay,” I say trying to process and make sense of everything. “Okay.” “Do you think it’s after you?”
Daniella looks like she is about to cry again. “Yes.”
“It’s okay.”
It’s really not, but I can try to help make it okay. “
I can’t tell you how, but I think I can help. I need to talk to somebody about this first and figure out what exactly to do. Did your grandmother’s stories ever tell you how to kill a skinwalker?”
“No.” Daniella says. “But we can ask her. I visit her at Bellhaven every Friday. You can come with me.”
“Can we go before then?” If this thing is after Daniella it isn’t wise to wait.
“No. Friday is the only day the patients are allowed visitors.”
Damn it.
“Alright Friday it is. Until then it sounds like the skinwalker will only appear when there are not too many people around to witness it, make sure you never go anywhere alone. Let me see your phone.”
I save my number to her contacts when she hands it to me. “Call me. Anytime. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the middle of the night. If you see it or if you’re afraid of something call me.”
Daniella nods.
“I have to go okay, but walk out with me and remember to make sure that you’re never anywhere there is not a crowd.”
“I don’t understand,” Daniella says. “How can you just believe all of this so easily and why do you think you can help me?”
“I can’t answer that. All I can tell you is I believe you and I think I can help. Other than that I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”
“You don’t think I’m crazy and you believe me. I don’t think I have a choice. You’re probably the only person who will.”
“What’s wrong Ash?” Derek and Cassie both ask me when they see my face.
Matt is standing with them in the parking lot and so are Brent and Trevor.
“Nothing,” I say. Both of their eyes linger on me realizing it for the lie that it is.
“I’m going to follow you and Cassie to your house,” I tell Derek.
He nods. Understanding that whatever it is, I can’t say it in front of mixed company.
******
“Skinwalkers can’t be real,” Cassie says disbelievingly after I tell them about Mr. Cordero’s legend and Daniella.
Me, her and Derek are seated around their kitchen table.
“Why can’t they be?” Derek asks. “Phoenix are dismissed as myths as well and we are very much real.”
“But wouldn’t we know about other…I guess
supernatural
things that are real. I mean if there was something that existed besides phoenix wouldn’t we or at least the Council be aware of it?”
“Not necessarily Cass. Just like we go through great lengths to blend in with the larger human population and keep our existence a secret from them, skinwalkers would too.”
I nod in agreement. “Hunters do the same thing. I wouldn’t consider us supernatural but we’re genetically more than the average human. We are stronger, faster, and more resilient. We don’t want our existence or what we can do being known by the masses either for the same reasons phoenix don’t. The only reason we know each other exist is because hunters evolved for the specific purpose of hunting phoenix.”
“Did they?” Derek counters. “If skinwalkers exist perhaps other things exist too. Maybe hunters evolved to hunt
supernaturals
, as Cass put it, in general. And Phoenix are just the only thing that hunters remembered existed over the centuries. What if, for instance, they successfully hunted everything else to extinction or near extinction like they’ve tried to do with us, and after those things weren’t around for so long they were eventually erased from the collective memory of hunters?”
“Maybe,” I concede his point. It was a theory, but one we didn’t have the time to consider too intently at the moment. “We can think about that later. Right now, we have what all evidence points to is a skinwalker on our hands that has killed two students from Laurel Springs at this point. It also tried to kill us, and is now wearing the skin of Trey when it appears to Daniella. From what Mr. Cordero said its sole purpose is to harm. It won’t stop killing until it itself is killed.”
“Then why just appear to Daniella and not try to kill her too? And why appear in Trey’s skin instead of as a wolf like he did with the rest of his victims?” Derek asks.
“We don’t know that it appeared as a wolf to them at first. Maybe it appeared as something else or someone else—whatever it needed to to lure them into a trap. Camille doesn’t strike me as the type who would get out of her car to attempt to change a flat tire on the side of the road. It’s more likely she would call someone and wait for help inside of it. And why would Trey just wander off into the trees by himself? Cordero said skinwalkers can shapeshift into the skin of whatever they have previously killed. It might be that the wolf is just the default form it shifts into to make its kills. ”
“Then why appear to us as just a wolf?” Derek asks.
“I don’t know. Maybe it never meant to lure and then kill us. Cordero said skinwalkers are powerful Navajo priests who use their powers for evil. Those powers could include them being able to sense other
supernatural
things and its aim was to eliminate the potential threat we posed.”
Derek’s already dark eyes grow darker with the shadows that move behind them. “We need to figure out how to kill the fucker like yesterday.”
“I agree,” I say. “But unfortunately unless you have another way we can figure that out we’re going to have to wait until Daniella can visit her grandmother at Bellhaven on Friday. And even then we might turn up empty handed. There’s no guarantee that she knows of a way or that if she does it will actually work.”
“I’m coming with you. In case you thought you were going with her by yourself.”
Actually, I did. It was something I could do without him thank you very much. But the set of his jaw and the dare to tell him that he isn’t in his eyes leaves very little room for me to say that.
Old instincts prick and I open my mouth to tell him he doesn’t need to come simply out of principle alone.
“Ash, it’s not up for debate. You’re not running around with someone a skinwalker is targeting by yourself.”
“I can take care of myself,” I snap. My ego sufficiently bruised. We both know I am far from some damsel that needs looking after or saving.
“I know that,” he grits out. “But I will feel better if I come.”
I glare at him and he looks back at me unmoved.
His eyes say
I’m going. Either that or you’re not.
I snort. My eyes say
Want to bet? And you can’t tell me what to do? I.Am.Going.With.Out.You.
It’s his turn to snort. “You can try,” he says breaking our silent argument.
I am about to tell him exactly where he can shove that sentiment when Cassie speaks up from beside us.
“Ash,”
says quietly. “Let Derek go with you.”
I cannot exactly name what it is, but there is something in her voice that makes me agree.
I hear heavy footsteps, I hear a voice, I hear shouting. I bury my head beneath the blanket. The shouting is coming from the same source that it usually does. My parents. They are fighting again. The footsteps thud down the stairs. A door slams and tires screech out of the driveway. Lighter footsteps pad down the stairs sometime later. They wake me up and I want to go to my mother now that we are alone again. Kiss the sadness off her face that I know will be there, just like I’ll do with Dad when he comes home again before the sun rises. I love both of my parents and I don’t blame either of them for their constant fighting. Even at six I understand that they are different people, moving in different directions, with different desires. Mom is not a hunter. She knew the life she was signing up for when she married Dad, but she can no longer bear the weight of it. She hasn’t been able to for two years now. Not since my cousins’ mother, her closest friend, was killed on a hunt in the park. She doesn’t want the same thing to happen to Dad or to me someday. But Dad has sworn a duty and Mom doesn’t understand why he feels so compelled to uphold it. She often yells at him that if he loves us he will leave. Dad yells back that he can’t. I wait for the footsteps to come back up the stairs. When they never do, I assume that she is sitting in the leather recliner, staring bleakly into nothingness with swollen, puffy eyes. I go in search of her and the recliner is empty. Our back door sits ajar. Our back door is never ajar. It and the front door and the basement door are always triple bolted. Especially at night when only her and I are inside. Something crawls over me warning me against going into the backyard. It whispers to go back upstairs and get back into bed. I ignore it because I know my mother is beyond that door and go outside anyway. I see something. Something that I know I shouldn’t be seeing. But my brain can’t make sense of the image. It’s fuzzy and shrouded in darkness. Then the darkness envelopes the entire scene and everything starts over from the beginning. I hear footsteps, I hear a voice, I hear shouting.
The nightmare plays over and over again the entire night after weeks of being absent.
I toss and turn in a restless sleep that leaves me feeling like I didn’t just sleep for eight hours when I wake up for school Friday morning. I run off of fumes as I go through the motions of my day on autopilot. I barely register what Mrs. Peters is saying about the imagery Langston Hughes uses in his poem
Night Funeral in Harlem,
I have no idea what Mr. Bronte says is the difference between Newton’s three laws of motion, Hamilton assigns me a detention for Monday because I fall asleep in his class and when I lean my head on Derek’s shoulder to rest my eyes for a couple of minutes I end up sleeping all through lunch. The second half of my day is worst than the first. By the time the dismissal bell rings at the end of 7
th
period it takes every ounce of strength I possess to force myself to my feet.
Cassie takes the Mustang home and Derek drives my car to Bellhaven following behind Daniella.
******
“My Little Bluebird!” A silver haired woman who looks to be in her fifties but springs up from her seat by the window with the oomph of a teenager greets Daniella.
She blushes at the use of the nickname in front of us. “Hi Nana.”
Daniella’s grandmother pulls her into a hug then kisses her on the cheek. “You brought friends today.” She smiles and Derek and me. “Please have a seat,” she motions to a pair of chairs beside her neatly made bed. “There’s only two so you’ll have to stand young man. Though I’m sure you don’t mind. You look like a proper gentleman to me.” She winks at Derek and when he smiles back her eyes come alive with merriment.
“This is Ash and Derek,” Daniella introduces us.
Her grandmother smiles at Derek again but peers at me. She studies me intently and I uncomfortably shift my weight from one foot to the other under her stare. It feels as if she is looking through me instead of at me.