Dead River

Chapter Twenty-Three



It’s like the world suddenly shifts, and all the brilliance of this new world fades to darker than the old. In seconds, the allure, the beauty of this place is gone.

I was deluding myself. I’d gotten so good at forcing him out of my mind during the rafting trip—too good. But it’s so easy to commit to something life-altering when you’re not in the presence of the person whose life you’re going to alter the most. And in a blur, every moment I’ve spent with him, no matter how trivial, flashes in front of my eyes, carrying weight it never did before. The same words echo in my ears: You’re my everything. You’re my everything. Suddenly I’m dizzy. Trey notices me losing my balance and props me up before I can slump to the ground, a defeated mass. Just like my father, who, behind the wheel of his Civic, looks so small and alone.

I turn to Vi, but words won’t come out. There’s a crushing, suffocating pain in my chest, like my heart is breaking into a thousand pieces. Finally, something comes, the only thing I can manage. “I’m sorry.”

My dad steps out of the car and he’s wearing his trademark wrinkled tweed blazer and L.L.Bean hiking boots. His hair is sticking up, which is a usual thing in the morning before he showers. He has a stack of flyers in his hands; I can see the word MISSING in bright red on top. There’s a picture underneath and I bet with everything I am that it’s the one of me last Christmas, wearing the Santa hat he always forced on me. I look about ten in the picture, which is why he loved it and put it on his desk at school. I’m sure that in the next half hour, half the trees in Forks will have that picture tacked to their trunks.

I turn to Trey. “What do you want me to do?” I ask, ignoring Vi’s expression. She begins to shake her head, first slowly, then building up momentum.

“We got to get that body in the boat,” Trey says. “We got to take it back.” When Trey reaches for the body, Vi moves to block his way. The way she stares at him, she looks seven feet tall.

I whisper to her, “I can’t leave my dad. I’m sorry. I have to go back.”

Her face, marred with dirt, doesn’t change. She crosses her arms in front of her ruffled dress, and despite the ruffles and lace, she looks fierce, like an ancient warrior. I’m surprised that with her strength and bravery, she could be so afraid of someone like her sister, Lannie. Suddenly I realize something. “That’s what you wanted,” I say to Vi, softly at first. “You become the thing that you wanted most in life. When she held you down in the mud, you wanted to be stronger than her. And you are.”

She just stares at me, her face stone.

“And don’t you see? She was in line to become Mistress. You’re her sister. You’re a member of our family. That means that you have the same powers we do. Right?” I turn to Trey. “We can fight her ourselves. Right?”

Trey laughs. “Whoa, cowboy. You ain’t fighting nobody. Not if you want to get home.”

“Okay, but she can, right? She’s more powerful than Lannie, so …”

Vi is shaking her head vehemently.

I stare at her. “What are you saying? I wish you could talk, already.”

Suddenly she begins to choke. She doubles over, but when she straightens, her mouth is clear. And suddenly I don’t wish it anymore, because the next thing that comes out is a whine. “I am not doing that,” she pouts. “Never ever ever.” Then she realizes what she’s done, and grins for half a second before she sneers at me. “Took you long enough, Miss All-Powerful. I’ve been begging you to do that for only a million years or something.”

I step back. “Wait. What just … Did I do that?”

Vi rolls her eyes and wipes the remaining mud from her chin. “For a Mistress, you’re really not that smart.” She leans against a tree, pouting.

Brat. I almost wish I hadn’t done that. Whatever it is I did, which I don’t know. I stare at my hands. Did I do anything with them? No, I clearly remember them being in the pockets of my jacket. All I’d done was say that I wished she could talk. I turn to Trey, confused. “I just say it, and it happens?”

He shakes his head. “We went over this. You don’t even got to say it. You just got to want it.”

Right. I do remember him saying something like that. I’ve wanted so many things, but I never just got them. I try to think of something, but nothing comes to mind.

She shrugs. “Anyway, don’t ask me to do that. To my sister. I can’t fight her.”

“Don’t give her that, little girl. I seen what you can do,” Trey says to her. Then to me he whispers, “Look, she’s eight. She don’t get things like you and I do. Her sister is the only family she knows. She don’t want to be alone.”

She rolls her eyes. “I can hear every word you’re saying!” she shrieks. “You think you know so much because you’re older than me?” She stares at me. “I’ve been around years longer than you. I know a thing or two.”

“Your sister isn’t nice to you. She killed you,” I say.

She looks from Trey to me and crosses her arms. Her face sours.

“Then why were you trying to hide my body?” I ask.

Trey studies her and says, “Because if her sister becomes Mistress, she ain’t gonna be just her sister.” And it makes sense. If her sister can weaken my mother and become Mistress, then she’ll be busy with other things. Vi won’t have her sister. “You afraid of being on your own, is that it?”

Vi doesn’t answer, so I just shake my head. “Right. Her brain’s still eight.”

Trey shrugs. “That don’t mean nothing. No fun being alone, whatever age you are.” He walks in front of the body and stands there, arms crossed. “We’re taking this body across the river, little girl, whether you like it or not. So scram.”

She stares at him, her nostrils flaring with rage. At first I think she’s going to challenge him. Instead, she turns and runs back down the path.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I say. “She’s going to come back and bring her sister.”

He says, “You forget. This is what they want us to do.” He must realize I’m about to feel guilty again, because he squeezes my hand. “Kiandra. Everything’ll be okay. Now let’s get out of here.”