CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

So much fear. So much. It was oppressive, strangling, choking the life from the body. Every imaginable fear was represented. There were so many people to observe it was impossible to see it all.

"Swamp. My biggest fear."

Crossing the pathway to the smaller island, the wetness and tall grass immediately made the heartbeat race.

"Can't do it. Can't do it."

"You can do it!" yelled someone behind them. Turning, there was shock. They were staring. They were all staring.

"You can do it, Beatrice," said Mary. "Isn't that what you said to the others."

"Wh-what are you talking about?" she gasped.

"Didn't you tell Tracy she could do it? She could overcome her fears. You could help her. You were such a good classmate. Who did you get to rape her?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I want to be done with this. They're staring at me. They're all staring at me!"

"Don't worry. They don't know that you're a cold-hearted, ruthless killer."

"No. No, I'm not!"

"Who raped Tracy?"

"It was just some random homeless guys. I gave them beer and fifty bucks. They were happy to do it."

"And you blamed Sterling for her murder."

"No, no, they did that. They positioned her body so it looked like he did it. I didn't do that. I swear!"

"You killed Gifford. Sweet, lovely, God-fearing Gifford. Why?"

"Why? Because he was perfect! He was perfect! He wasn't afraid of anything except fire. I didn't want to do that. He chose it! He spoke it out loud!"

"What happened to you?" asked Rachelle, coming at the girl from behind. She was now surrounded by a dozen men and women, all staring at her. Across the path on the other island were all the students staring inquisitively.

"Nothing happened to me!"

"Something happened to make you this way," said Rachelle. "Who created your fears?"

"They weren't fears. It was smart to be cautious. Don't touch the wood; you'll get splinters. Don't watch the television; you'll see and hear horrible things. Don't listen to the radio; it's propaganda. It was smart!"

"Beatrice, it's not smart. It's manipulating. Who did this to you?" asked Mary.

The young girl turned in a circle several times, looking at all the faces that were looking at her. She tapped the sides of her head with the heels of her hands, shaking her head several times.

"Beatrice? Who?" repeated Mary.

"My grandmother! My grandmother, okay! She was so religious. So pious. Everything was evil. Everything was filled with fear. I couldn't touch anything. I couldn't do anything. If I did, I paid for it. Touch nothing. Touch nothing. Touch nothing."

"Beatrice, it's going to be okay now. We're going to try and get you some help."

"Help? I don't need help. They need help. They need to overcome their fears and phobias. Fears and phobias. Fears and phobias. Fears and phobias."

"Christ," whispered Miller.

"She's bad, Pierre," said Rachelle. "Her grandmother really did a number on her."

"Everyone. Grandmother was found dead five years ago in a small, remote cabin in northern Arkansas. She was skinned alive."

"Holy shit," muttered Ghost.

"Beatrice, do you have any weapons on you?" asked Mary.

"Weapons? No. I don't touch metal. I don't touch steel. I don't touch wood. No. No. No. If you touch those things, you're punished. You're punished!"

"We need to get you some help, Beatrice. Come with us," said Mary. Behind them, multiple sheriff's vehicles were waiting, their flashing lights turned off, as it was one of her many fears.

"There's no help for me," she said in a defeated tone.

"Why don't we see about that," said Rachelle. "I'm going to bet we can give you some peace."

"Will I sleep?" she asked.

"Yes, honey. You'll sleep."

"That is one fucked up young woman," said the sheriff.

"She's sick," said Rachelle defensively.

"I know, I know. I just don't understand how someone gets that far. She's not connected to reality. She's afraid of every damn thing around her."

"That's why she killed the others. She was afraid of their fear and of them," said Rachelle. "She's so twisted up and abused, I'm not sure she will ever be released."

"We've got the buses loaded," said Angel. "We'll get the kids back to the university."

"We're going to have to explain what just happened," said Mary. "Those students deserve an explanation. We put them at risk out here with her. They deserve to know."

"We will tell them in class tomorrow," said Noah. "I will be there to help you."

"Thanks, big guy," smirked Mary.

"You are welcome, little gal," he said, trying to be playful. Mary just chuckled, shaking her head.

"Let's go home."