Twenty-Nine

Garrett's hands fly out, but he doesn't have time to get away before Sadie's on him, clawing and biting and howling like a cornered beast.

A blur to my left.

Jayla lets out a cry and lunges toward the door. That's when the blur takes form. It's Madison. Outside.

Madison is outside and running for Sadie and Garrett with Kit's baseball bat raised. I wheel toward the door, but Jayla's in my way, and we collide, each of us scrambling to get free of the other.

Outside, Madison starts to swing the bat at Sadie's head. Sadie has Garrett pinned beneath her. He's fighting, but she doesn't seem to feel his blows. Then her head jerks up just as that bat swings, and she leaps.

It happens so fast. Impossibly fast. One second she's on Garrett, and then she's on Madison, and someone is screaming.

I'mscreaming.

I'm at the door, clawing it open, and it is like the worst kind of nightmare, where you only need to cross a few feet and somehow, you can't. I am moving, but it is not fast enough. Madison screams, and the world goes red. All I see is Sadie—the thing that was Sadie.

That thing has Madison, and there is blood. Blood flying. My niece's blood. My daughter's blood. My brilliant, beautiful, amazing little girl's blood.

I grab Madison. I have no idea how I got there, and I don't care. I only care that I have her in my hands, and I am ripping her away from that thing. Then Kit and Jayla are both there, dragging Sadie off.

Blood. Oh God, there is so much blood.

Madison's shaking, her eyes huge. Her mouth works. Saying my name.

Blood flows from her neck. From her neck.

There's a scream, and I think it's me. Then I see Sadie, held back by Jayla and Kit. I see Sadie. Actually Sadie—the woman I know—in those eyes, and I see absolute horror.

"M-Madison?"

I don't know if Sadie actually says the word or her lips just form the name. I can hear nothing over the pounding in my ears. I'm lowering Madison to the ground as my hand clamps against her neck. Jayla rushes to our side. Dimly, I see Kit give Sadie a shove, but she's already backing off, one hand to her mouth, horror in her eyes.

I see Sadie completely then—the bandages half pulled from her ruined face, bone jabbing against the bandages on her leg, her one arm twisted grotesquely. She meets my gaze, and I see Sadie in there. Oh God, I still see Sadie.

Her hand lowers from her mouth and her lips form the words "I'm sorry."

Then she runs. Lopes, hobbles, staggers. I don't even know what word to use. She goes. That is all that matters. She goes.

Kit has his shirt off, and he rips the sleeve free as Jayla paws through the bandages and supplies Garrett left scattered about.

"L-Laney?" Madison whispers, her eyes still impossibly huge. "Laney?"

"You're okay," I say, even as blood gushes through my fingers. "I've got you. You're going to be okay."

"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"No!" I say, the word harsh as I meet her gaze. "You did nothing wrong, and you will be okay."

Kit's there, using his torn sleeve to apply pressure to Madison's neck. Blood soaks through it in a blink. Jayla shoves bandages at us, but we just keep applying pressure.

"Laney?"

Madison's hands flutter, as if searching for mine.

I hold them tight.

"It's not the jugular," she whispers.

I want to sob, and I want to laugh hysterically. We're freaking out, and her voice is so calm. It's shock, I know that. But it pulls me back to earth and grounds me.

"Need to stop the bleeding," she says.

"I know. We're working on it."

"Keep my head raised above my heart."

We're already doing that, but she's in too much shock to know, so I only nod and keep pressure on that spot, staring as if I can will it to stop bleeding. Seconds tick past, and the bandage stays white.

Has the bleeding stopped? How much blood has she lost? Yes, it's not the jugular or carotid, but it was something, and I have no idea what or how bad the injury was and I can't answer that without opening the bandages, which I'm sure as hell not going to do.

"Laney?" she whispers.

"We've got it," I say. "I think the bleeding stopped and—"

Madison's head lolls, eyes shutting. I let out a noise. I don't even know what kind of noise, I just feel it rip from my throat as her grip relaxes on my hand.

My fingers fly to Madison's face, cupping it.

"Madison?" I say. "Mads?"

A hand grips my arm. Kit's voice. "She just lost consciousness, Laney. She's still breathing. We need to get her inside."

Don't move her.That's what I want to say. Do not touch her. No onecan touch her but me, and we are leaving her right here and waking her up so I can be sure she's alive.

So I can be sure my baby is alive.

I physically force myself to move away, hands lifted as if in surrender. Kit gently slides his hands under Madison's shoulders and knees. Then he very carefully lifts her, his gaze fixed on her mouth, as if watching for any hitch in her breathing.

Jayla runs ahead and opens the door. I follow anxiously, my whole body twitching. Then we're inside and Kit is moving toward the sofa. I recover enough to scramble past him and open up the sofa bed.

He lowers Madison onto it. I force myself to wait until she's situated. Then I'm checking her breathing, her heart rate, everything I can to assure myself she's alive.

She's breathing. It's shallow, though. Weak.

"She's lost too much blood," I say.

"Can we do something about that?" Jayla asks.

I run to the first-aid book we'd pulled from my library when we'd been trying to help Sadie. It's over by the window, where we'd been relaying instructions. I'm halfway there when I see Garrett.

Garrett.

We forgot about Garrett.

He'd been lying only a few feet from Madison, but no one had even registered it. We'd been so focused on Madison. Now I see him, and he sees me. He's on his side, doubled almost in half, one hand pawing at the glass, leaving bloodied smears.

His lips form two words. "Help me."

"Garrett," I say. "Oh God. Garrett."

Jayla runs over as Kit stays with Madison.

She sees Garrett and whispers, "Fuck."

He's hurt, and I have no idea how badly. There's blood everywhere. A chunk of flesh hangs over one eye. Blood soaks his shoulder. There's more blood soaking his midriff, where his shirt is torn, but he's hunched over, one hand to his stomach, and we can't see his injuries.

"Laney?" Jayla whispers. "Is that…?"

I follow her finger. She's pointing at his hand. At first I don't see what she's indicating. Then I do. What looked like a pinkish red knuckle isn't a knuckle at all. It's a bulge of intestine.

"What did Sadie do to him?" Jayla whispers.

"It wasn't Sadie," I say. "It was whatever I saw in her before. Sadie's still in there." She came back and saw what she'd done to Madison. That's why she ran. "But there's something else, too, and it…" I shudder.

"It can do that," Jayla says. "Whatever that is."

It can do worse. So much worse.

"What do we do?" Jayla says.

I look at Garrett. He's alive. Undoubtedly alive, his face a mask of shock. He starts to shake, but his gaze stays on mine, pleading.

"We can't bring him inside," she says.

"I know," I say. "Then I have to go out there and try to help him."

"The hell you are."

I rip from Garrett's gaze and lock with Jayla's. "The hell I am. Madison nearly died going out there to save him. When she wakes up—because she will wake up—I am not telling her that I sat here and watched her father die."

"I'll do it," Kit says from the sofa bed.

"No, I—"

"Let me rephrase that. I am doing it." He rises so I can see him in the growing darkness. "Not to pull guy-rank here, but if something goes wrong, I can subdue him more easily than either of you two. Yes, I know that whatever's out there gives Sadie some kind of superhuman strength, but Garrett's not at that stage yet. If I see any hint that it's not him, I'm getting back in here and leaving him to die. Could you do that, Laney? Or would you wait to be sure?"

"Go," Jayla says. "I'll cover you."

Kit motions for me to switch spots with him. I pause only a moment before doing it. He's right. I'll hesitate before running back inside. I'd need to be sure. Kit won't.

"I'm going to take a look at his wounds," Kit says to me. "Then I'll come back in and get what I can. If anything happens, don't come out after me."

"That better not apply to me," Jayla says. "Because if anything happens, I sure as hell am going out after you."

He manages a weak smile. "Oh, I'm counting on it. But Laney stays with Madison."

"Agreed," Jayla says.

I don't answer. He's right, and I will stay here for Madison, but there's no way of saying that without sounding as if every fiber in me wouldn't be screaming to help him.

As Kit unlocks the door, my gaze slides to Garrett. I see the first-aid book and remember that's what I'd been going for. It'll have to wait. I won't leave Madison's side—no matter what—but nor can I start leafing through a book while Kit is outside.

Kit closes the door.

"Don't lock it," I say.

"I wasn't going to," Jayla says.

"I meant don't let Kit lock it."

Kit lifts a hand, clearly hearing me. Once his back is turned away, Jayla eases the door open a half inch, and I'm sure not arguing with that. She needs to be ready in case anything happens.

Garrett sees Kit coming, as if spotting his reflection. His head swivels to watch. He says something I don't hear, and Kit replies.

Kit continues talking, something reassuring, as he very slowly approaches Garrett, tensed for trouble. When Garrett's head shoots up, Kit freezes and Jayla shoves the door open. But Garrett doesn't move. His gaze is fixed on something to his right. A figure on the deck stairs.

"Kit!" I shout.

Kit backpedals toward the door. Then he stops. The figure continues up the stairs, but I can't see more than a dim shape in the twilight. My brain insists that's wrong. There's a motion-detecting light that should be turning on and illuminating the figure. But that light stays off, and the figure keeps climbing.

"Laney?" Jayla says. "Are you seeing…?"

She trails off, as if she can't bring herself to finish. I am seeing it. Sadie is at the top of the stairs. Except it's not broken Sadie, ruined Sadie. It's Sadie as she'd looked last night, in her perfectly clean sweatshirt and yoga pants, her blond hair swept back.

The figure stretches one hand toward Kit.

"Kit!" I shout.

Jayla reaches to yank Kit inside, but he's already dashing through. He grabs the door, slams it, and locks it.

Outside the window, the figure stays poised at the top of the deck stairs, on the edge, bedecked in shadows that seem to swirl around her. She's still reaching out, but now her hand is extended toward Garrett, who's on his feet.

Garrett is on his feet, one hand clenched to his stomach, holding in his intestines, the other outstretched to his sister. To this vision of his sister, whole and smiling and reaching for him.

"No!" I shout. "Garrett! It's not her!"

Kit bangs on the glass to get Garrett's attention. Jayla shouts for him to snap the fuck out of it, to see that it's obviously not Sadie.

The figure turns and heads back down the deck stairs. Garrett lurches after her. I run halfway to the door before stopping myself.

We all shout for Garrett. Jayla and Kit smack the window. Garrett doesn't hear us. He doesn't care.

There is nothing we can do.

No, strike that. Face the truth. The ugly truth. There is nothing we will do, and it isn't about Garrett or what he did to me or whether he'd help any of us. It is about Madison.

I will not open that door. I will not let Kit or Jayla risk their lives going out to stop Garrett, and I will not take a chance of letting something in this house with Madison. That door isn't opening again until help arrives.

I'm sorry, Garrett. I am truly sorry, and I only hope our daughter forgives us for what I am doing. I tried to help you. But you are going to follow that wraith of your sister wherever she leads, and it makes you an amazing brother, but it also means that I need to let you choose that path and not drag anyone along with you.

We keep shouting. Keep pounding. Keep cursing him. And he keeps walking, staggering now while he holds in his goddamn intestines.

Garrett reaches the first step, and nearly falls face-first, but he has the wherewithal to take a hand from his stomach and clasp the railing.

One step.

Two steps.

The figure of Sadie is gone now, but he's still moving down the stairs. He's almost to the bottom when his body jerks forward. I think he's lost his balance from the pain. Then I see he's tripped over a vine.

He yanks his foot up, impatient, but when he tries to move, the vine is still wrapped around his ankle. He pulls again. It's only a vine, after all. A thin strand of vegetation emerging from under the wooden deck, life taking root in the cracks between the rocks.

"Just stop, damn it," Jayla says. "Untangle the damn vine, and snap out of it."

That's all it might take. An irritation, that damnable vine, making him pause to pluck it from his ankle, giving his brain time to realize the figure wasn't Sadie, couldn't have been Sadie.

Garrett lifts his leg to swipe at the vine and…

Blood sprays from his ankle. I twitch, not comprehending what I'm seeing. Garrett screams. He lets go of his stomach, and his intestines tumble out.

"Oh God," Jayla says.

"The vine," Kit manages, stumbling over the words, as if unable to believe what he's seeing. "The vine…"

The vine is gone now. Disappeared into the flesh of Garrett's ankle like razor wire, and blood is spurting, and Garrett is screaming, and when he pulls—

Kit wheels, his hands going to my shoulders as he turns me away. It's too late. I already saw, and even if I didn't see, Garrett's screams would tell me what happened.

The vine cut through his ankle. Through flesh and bone, his foot falling free.

Through bone?

Not possible. That is not—

I glance back, and Garrett is on the ground, and vines are whipping over him, rising from the cracks between rocks and slicing into him and blood, oh God, the blood.

Kit turns me away, and I let him. Jayla has turned, too, doubled over, retching.

Outside, the screaming reaches a crescendo, an animal wail. I cram my hands into my ears. Then it stops, the wail cut off mid-note. I don't breathe. Can't breathe. I just wait. Wait until I am certain it has stopped.

Until I am certain Garrett is dead.

Kit guides me to a chair and lowers me into it. Then I dimly hear him talking to Jayla. I glance over to see them embracing. Then they both come farther into the room, studiously avoiding looking at the window.

I glance toward that window. I can't help myself. I don't see Garrett, though. We're too far into the great room, and his body is hidden at the base of the stairs.

"What just happened?" Jayla says. "What the fuck just happened?"

I shake my head.

"I saw the vine moving," Kit says. "Grabbing him. Cutting into… into him. Is that what you both saw?"

I nod, and Jayla mumbles something, as if she can't quite bring herself to say that she saw the same impossible thing.

"I need to look after Madison," I say, pushing up unsteadily. "I need the first-aid book. I need to take care of her."

My voice comes out in a monotone. Deadened by shock. The next thing I know, Kit is guiding me to the sofa bed and Jayla has the book open under a lamp.

"Tell me what to look for," she says, and I do.