It was time.
I shuffled over to a small table and wrapped one hand around the handle of a bone saw then gathered a cloth rag into the other. With excitement welling in the pit of my stomach, I stepped quickly back and stood over him. Forcing his mouth open, I stuffed the filthy cloth into it then took hold of his hand and pressed the serrated edge of the saw against his wrist just below the shackle.
“Now,” I said, my voice dripping with sweetness. “Let us see how much you love me, little man.”
I was just preparing to draw the toothed blade through the first layer of his flesh when the door opened. I looked up to see my sister standing there, a frown creasing her face.
“Miranda,” she admonished. “I should have known I would find you here.”
“I need it, Delphine,” I told her between short, panting breaths. “I need it now.”
“Our guests will be here in less than two hours.”
“I know,” I appealed. “I promise this will not take long.”
She stood staring at me, and I at her. The itch had overwhelmed me now, and I could feel myself trembling. I needed release, and I was certain she knew it. I had seen her in this very same state more than once.
“Delphine, please…” I begged.
She slowly pressed the door shut then turned and walked toward the table. The corners of her mouth twisted into a knowing smile as she knelt and took his hand from me.
“Get some rope to tie it off first,” she said softly. “We would not want him to die just yet.”
I awoke to the sound of my travel alarm chirping from its position atop the rickety nightstand.
I was sprawled out on the bed in my room at the Airline Courts. Contrary to what I had told Ben earlier, I had actually chosen to sleep on it. Although, I hadn’t bothered to turn it down, nor did I get undressed. I suppose that somewhere in my exhaustion, I had come to the conclusion that as long as I had a few layers between me and it, the creeping crud wouldn’t be able to get to me.
My mouth was dry, and my heart was thumping hard in my chest. I felt more like I had been running laps than sleeping. My head was killing me, not that such was unusual these days, but for some reason, between lances of pain I was seeing an image of a saw. I didn’t know exactly what it meant, but it was seriously disconcerting because each mental flash of the serrated blade left me with that bizarre feeling of feminine arousal deep inside.
I rolled over and stretched out, grabbing the twittering alarm clock and switching it off. I had set it for 6 P.M., and the digits were displaying 6:07. Apparently it had taken several minutes for it to get my attention, which was a testimony to how tired I really was. I placed it back on the nightstand, causing the dilapidated piece of furniture to rock and thump against the wall. Rolling back, I pushed myself up and sat on the edge of the bed.
I needed to call Felicity. Not only had I promised her I would, but I needed to hear her voice again too. Something else I needed to do was eat. The diet of aspirin and coffee was starting to take its toll, and I was actually feeling the need to fill my stomach with something solid. Unfortunately, that bizarre tickle combined with the phantom memory was causing the very thought of food to make me nauseous.
After several minutes of holding my head between my hands, I rocked forward and stood. In an almost catatonic stupor, I dug through my overnight bag and pulled out my shaving kit then trudged into the bathroom to make an attempt at washing away the last eighteen or so hours of my life.
Friday, December 2
3:07 P.M.
St. Louis Cemetery #1
New Orleans, Louisiana
CHAPTER 12:
Obeying the blinking signals on the car leading me, I turned right onto Saint Louis Street, continued along the short jog, and then made a quick left and almost immediately pulled to the curb. I shifted my vehicle into park then took a moment to rub my eyes. I was awake, but I still felt like I could use more sack time, several days worth, in fact. That was the problem with sleep. Once you had gone without it for as long as I had, you played hell trying to get caught up. And, it seemed that the more you got, the more your body wanted. Not that I had managed to get all that much, but it had apparently been enough to give my body a taste of what it was like-which wasn’t working in my favor at the moment.
Last night I had tried to crash again after speaking to Felicity and then making a quick run to a drive-thru and tossing down a less than stellar burger. Unfortunately, my slumber was really no more restful than the afternoon nap that had preceded it. I couldn’t even blame the nocturnal activities of my neighbor for that fact either. No matter how hard I tried to program myself with pleasant thoughts, the repetitious nightmare wasn’t about to leave me alone. Without fail it interrupted each cycle before it was even fully started, effectively keeping me from getting any true rest. I don’t suppose I would have minded that so much if I had learned something useful in the process. However, I never actually remembered enough of the details to know if the repeating terror was important or just my subconscious desperately trying to rescue itself by casting out the sick memories.
It wasn’t until the sun was already peeking through the small window of my room that I managed to drift off for any extended period of time. As it turned out, that was only for a few hours before I was jarred awake by Doctor Rieth calling my cell phone. Given the fact that I probably would have slept right through our planned meeting, I suppose it had been for the best.
I finally stopped rubbing my eyes then reached over to the passenger seat and rooted around in my backpack. After a moment I pulled out a small, point-and-shoot digital camera. I stuffed it into my jacket pocket then shoved my hand back into the pack and retrieved a fresh bottle of aspirin I had picked up earlier this morning.
My headache was bearable for the moment, but the persistent dull ache had started ramping up a few minutes ago and had gradually increased the closer we got to our destination. Since I had a minute I figured it might be a good idea to see if I could head some of it off at the pass. I had just broken the seal on the bottle when Doctor Rieth knocked on the window.
She was in her mid-fifties and stood average height. In truth, she looked much like the photograph on her book jacket. Shoulder-length hair that occupied a hue somewhere between blonde and strawberry. Her features were pretty, but her expression seemed to change little. Except for a quick smile upon our initial face-to-face meeting a little earlier, she had worn a sober mask that spoke to her academic ties. Still, her eyes betrayed untold wisdom that I suspected was born of experience, both good and bad.
I quickly tossed a few of the aspirin into my mouth and swallowed them dry, causing a lump to rise in my throat. Then, I left the bottle in the console and climbed out of my vehicle.
“Headache?” Doctor Rieth asked across the top of the car.
“Yeah,” I answered with a nod, choking the pills the rest of the way down.
“How many aspirin did you take?” she pressed.
“Probably not enough,” I told her as I hooked around the front of the rental and joined her on the sidewalk.
She shook her head. “You know, that probably isn’t very good for you.”
“Yeah. It says that right on the bottle.”
“All right then,” she replied. “I’m not your mother.”
“Thank you for recognizing that fact, Doctor Rieth. Most of my friends don’t.”
“I thought we had agreed to dispense with formality?”
“You’re right,” I said with a nod. “Thank you, Velvet.”
“For what it is worth,” she continued. “I would suspect their concern is what makes them your friends.”
“Uh-huh. That’s the argument they use too.”
She gave me a nod then turned and started walking down the sidewalk. The high walls surrounding the cemetery were rife with signs of their advanced age. However, it was also obvious that great care had been taken to maintain them over the years, and they even appeared to be an eternal work in progress.