Stone Rain

“Shit!” I shouted.

 

But she was coming at me again, taking another swing, and she had this wild, determined look in her eye that told me she meant business. I jumped back and the shovel whipped past me so quickly I could hear its blade cutting through the air.

 

When I jumped back, I lost my footing, and fell backwards. My head slammed into a post at the end of a porch railing.

 

That’s when the lights went out.

 

 

 

 

 

25

 

 

THE FIRST THING I became aware of was the voices. A conversation between a man and a woman. It had to be a dream, I thought. It was the sort of conversation one might expect to hear in a nightmare.

 

“What are we going to do with him?” That was the woman.

 

“I don’t know,” the man said. “But you did the right thing.”

 

“It was when he looked at Katie. I got so scared.”

 

There was a damp earthy smell. Could you smell things in a dream? Probably. At the very least, you could imagine you were smelling something in a dream. But it was more than earth or dirt. Was it hay? Had I smelled enough hay in my life to know for sure?

 

I tried to wake myself up, to blink my eyes open. But the world remained dark; I couldn’t get my lids to move. There was something sticky over them.

 

“I can’t believe you dragged him back into the barn yourself,” the man said.

 

“I guess I was just going on adrenaline,” she said. Okay, I thought. I know that voice. I’d heard it recently. Just before going to sleep.

 

No. Not sleep. That was the voice I’d heard just before I’d hit my head on the post. Mrs. Bennet. That’s who it was.

 

Speaking of which, fucking hell, the headache I had. The pounding was at its worst at the back of my head, but the whole thing hurt like a son of a bitch. I went to put my hands on my head, but found I could not move them. They were restrained somehow behind me. And I was lying down. I moved my head, ever so slightly, and felt my face rub against cold earth and straw.

 

“I didn’t actually drag him the whole way,” Mrs. Bennet said. “I backed the van up to the porch, dumped him in, then I tied him up. Then I drove him into the barn. I had to work fast while Katie ate her lunch.”

 

That made sense. That explained why there was tape over my eyes, why I couldn’t move my arms. I tried moving my legs, but there wasn’t much happening down there either. I was bound at the knees and ankles. And, breathing through my nose, it became apparent that there was a piece of tape across my mouth as well.

 

“Mmmm,” I said.

 

“At least he’s not dead,” Mrs. Bennet said.

 

“Not yet,” said the man.

 

I swallowed. This was not good. “Mmmm,” I said again.

 

“We can’t kill him,” Mrs. Bennet said.

 

I waited for the man to say something along the lines of yes, that was true, they couldn’t kill me. But instead, he said nothing.

 

“If he’s working for them,” the man said, “if we let him go, he’ll lead them right here.”

 

“But what if he isn’t?”

 

“You want to take a chance like that? Is that what you want to do?”

 

I could hear Mrs. Bennet’s breathing, like maybe she was on the verge of tears. “I have to go check on Katie. She can’t know what’s going on in here.”

 

“Maybe take her into town or something,” the man said. “I’ll take care of things here.”

 

“What does that mean? Taking care of things?”

 

“Jesus, Claire, what the fuck do you want me to do?”

 

“I don’t know, okay? I don’t know!”

 

They both took a moment to calm down. “Where’s the car?” the man asked.

 

“I got the keys out of his jacket, moved it around back of the barn. You can’t see it from the road.”

 

“It’s her car, isn’t it?” the man said.

 

“Yes,” Mrs. Bennet said. “But just because it’s her car, that doesn’t mean anything.”

 

“Mmmm,” I said, a little louder this time.

 

“I knew this was going to happen someday,” the man said. “From the first day, this sort of thing, it was inevitable. Jesus.”

 

Mrs. Bennet, agitated: “Why don’t you go into the house then, tell Katie you’re sorry, this whole thing was a big mistake, but we won’t be looking after her anymore. Is that what you want?”

 

“Jesus, Claire, that’s not what I’m saying. I don’t want to do that.” His voice went quiet. “I love her. I love her as my own.” He paused. “All I want to do is make sure she’s safe, and whatever that takes, I’m prepared to do it. For Katie, and for you.”

 

“Including murder?”

 

Again, the man had nothing to say. I heard shuffling on the straw floor, the man pacing back and forth, trying to decide what to do.

 

“Mmmm!” I said, stirring about on the barn floor, trying to roll over.

 

“Shut up!” the man shouted.

 

“We need to ask him some questions,” Claire Bennet said. “We need to know why he’s here. We need to know if he’s a threat or not.”

 

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