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Beautiful Dead, Page 3

Eden Maguire


  “And now you’re here,” Hunter said. “Here is what matters. You have something important to work out and we’ll help you do that.”

  “I was alone on the slope, the first one up there.” Past trauma—the ultimate and irreversible one—still demanded Lee’s attention. “Blue skies, perfect snow, then all of a sudden—”

  “The light went out,” Arizona interrupted. “And you don’t know what went wrong. There’s a blank in your memory big enough to swallow you whole and so much pain you can hardly bear it. We know.”

  “We need to welcome you,” Hunter told him. He made Lee stand in the center of the circle and strip off his shirt, then he turned his head toward me. “Darina, you can leave now. Wait in the house.”

  Phoenix smiled at me and nodded, then I felt his grasp slacken. Even though I wanted to argue with Hunter about staying, I felt his icy eyes bore through me and the urge dissolved. Minus my willpower, I left the barn without uttering a word.

  Hunter didn’t say anything about not turning and looking over my shoulder though. Halfway across the yard, I took a peek.

  Lee was in the center of the ring and the Beautiful Dead were chanting, their voices soft and rhythmic, their expressions welcoming. The delicate features of Summer’s face especially seemed to light up, her eyes were shining, her hair floating around her shoulders. Next to her, Arizona had peeled away all those layers of bitter sarcasm and allowed an open contentment to take over her whole body. Eve, with her baby in her arms, closed her eyes in a trance.

  Darina, wait in the house! Hunter stood with his back to me, but he had eyes in the back of his head. And he didn’t need to speak out loud to dish the orders. Like a robot I turned and walked on.

  But I did hear the chanting as I stepped up onto the house porch, and I heard Phoenix’s voice among all the rest, saying, “Welcome, Lee. Welcome to the world of the Beautiful Dead.”

  They did their thing, then Summer came to the house to get me. “So, Darina, how are you?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “How long have you got?”

  “OK, stupid question.” She tapped the arm of the rocking chair to set it in motion. Backward, forward, like the ticking of an old clock. “Have you seen my parents lately?”

  “No, I haven’t been out on your side of town.”

  “My mother doesn’t leave the house much,” Summer confided. “It’s been seven and a half months since I left, and she stays inside.”

  I told her that her mom still needed recovery time. “Your dad takes care of her. He saw Laura in the mall and told her he works at home now. He doesn’t need to go to the office.”

  “Still dreaming up homes for people.” Summer smiled. “As a little kid I loved to watch him draw those plans, those magical lines and angles. It’s his way of making dreams come true.”

  “He’s a great architect,” I agreed. I knew Mr. Madison had designed the house Zoey and her family lived in, plus most of the expensive homes in the Westra neighborhood, including the Taylor place, which had once been featured in an edition of Mountain Living.

  Weirdly, the Madisons’ own home wasn’t a big deal. Sure, it was large, and it had floor-to-ceiling windows on the side of the house that overlooked Amos Peak, and you could see forest and hills for miles. But the interior was cluttered and homey, crammed with Summer’s musical instruments and colorful, half-finished paintings stacked against the wall.

  “I’m glad Dad’s working.” Summer sighed. “Is Mom still painting? No, you don’t know. I forgot.”

  Back and forth, back and forth went the chair. A slight frown creased Summer’s smooth, pale features.

  “So Lee joined your group,” I noted. With Summer I never run at stuff like I usually do. She slows me down and makes me feel like I want to take care of her, even now. And we find the time to talk.

  “He needs answers.” Summer went to the window and looked out across the yard. “Dying alone on a ski slope at the age of nineteen—that’s tough.”

  Like getting caught in a random shooting in a mall isn’t? I thought of Summer’s manner of departing this life at the hands of an unknown psychopath. “Did you see Lee’s death mark?”

  “At the base of his spine, a perfect pair of angel wings,” she told me. “Don’t worry about Lee, Darina. Hunter will look out for him. It’s Arizona we have to focus on right now.”

  “I know.” I paced the small room from door to stairway. “This won’t be easy,” I admitted. “Arizona’s hard to like.”

  “Who says you have to like her?” Summer gave me one of her wide, open smiles. “All you have to do is find out what really happened and set her free.”

  “With Jonas it wasn’t difficult,” I tried to explain. “Everyone loved him. I don’t understand—why does Arizona act so harsh?”

  “Because that’s who she is.” Summer opened the door to let the sun slant across the faded rug. “Just don’t take it personally.”

  I laughed. “It is personal! Didn’t you see the way she just cut me out of your circle?”

  “So try not to react. Chill. Think about it, Darina, Arizona’s used to looking like she’s in control.”

  “But not this time, huh? For once she has to rely on someone.”

  “And that someone is you.” Summer nodded. “Now do you get it?”

  Darina, are you ready?” Arizona demanded.

  I was sitting with her and Phoenix on the steps to the hayloft, maybe thirty minutes after my conversation with Summer. The afternoon light was already fading and every inch of me was wishing it was just me and Phoenix on those stairs.

  “What is this, the hundred-yard dash?” I shot back. Summer had said not to react, but there was an energy between me and Arizona that meant conflict, like putting two chemicals into a petri dish and standing back to watch the sizzle.

  Arizona glared at me. “Hunter said for me to give you the key facts. Here they are. It was late October, Thursday, not a warm day. I don’t remember planning to go for a swim.”

  A-ha! “Did you meet anyone? Who did you talk to?” I asked.

  “My parents, I guess. I don’t remember. Dad was busy that morning so I skipped class and took my car for repair.”

  “In town?”

  She nodded and failed to meet my gaze. “Some place behind the mall. I don’t remember the name.”

  “Did anyone go with you?” I had to squeeze real hard to get the details. “Who gave you a ride home?”

  “I didn’t go home.”

  Phoenix punctured the silence that followed. “Give Darina a break,” he told Arizona. “She’s having a hard time here.”

  “And I’m not?” she spat back at him, and for a moment they were caught up in their silent undead mind reading deal. Angry looks shot between them but I wasn’t included in the unspoken exchange.

  I always think of Arizona as someone you would spot in a style magazine—tight-fitting T-shirt and jeans, boots with heels that make her taller, skinnier still. Her face is framed by long, silky black hair. She has eyes the color of green glass and a scornful pout to her full lips.

  What had I learned about the way she died? I had a car service garage without a name, a time of day. Not a lot. And it had been like extracting teeth. I was glad when we were interrupted.

  “Hey, Darina,” Iceman said as he walked into the barn. Iceman had that same cold look as the others. He wasn’t as tall as Phoenix or Lee, but just as pale and severe-looking. “I just came back from Government Bridge.”

  Then I realized Iceman hadn’t been part of the welcoming committee for Lee Stone. All the Beautiful Dead had gathered, except for him. How could I have overlooked him, another guardian, along with Eve and Donna?

  “Hey, Iceman,” I replied with an embarrassed smile.

  “Hunter sent me down there to check out the guys at the new engineering works,” he explained. “I didn’t like what I saw.”

  “How many people?” Phoenix asked.

  “Five—one surveyor and four guys to do the
work. And a whole heap of machinery—diggers and flatbed trucks, mainly. They plan to strengthen the bridge, starting today.”

  Government Bridge was a couple of miles downstream: a creaky wooden structure that groaned under the weight of SUVs driven by the hunters and picnickers. It was National Forest territory and evidently someone in the planning section had decided it needed an overhaul before winter set in.

  “What makes you think they’ll head this way?” Arizona wanted to know. Her tone suggested she didn’t understand what the big deal was. “OK, so the creek here runs on down to Government Bridge, but I wouldn’t have those guys down as students of the local flora and fauna.”

  In other words, the workers dug holes and sank steel supports into the ground, then in the evening they drove straight to the nearest bar.

  “Exactly—our creek runs under the bridge,” Iceman said calmly. “The surveyor is heading upstream to check water flow as we speak.”

  Phoenix stood up and vaulted over the wooden stair rail onto the barn floor. “Does Hunter know?” he asked.

  “I already told him. He said to take you and Arizona with me. We have to cut the guy off before he gets here.”

  Right away everything changed. Arizona dropped the snooty attitude, took a band from her pocket, and tied back her hair, ready for action. Phoenix was already out through the door when I sprinted after him and asked if I could come too. “No, you’d better stay here” was on his lips when Hunter exited the house with Lee Stone. “Take her,” he told Phoenix curtly from the shadowy porch. “And take Lee along too. Let him see the way we work.”

  So Phoenix, Iceman, and Arizona led the way down the bank of the creek, with me and the rookie zombie on their tails. We trod through long grass, over boulders, and through willow thickets, raising a family of mule deer from the bushes, sending them leaping up an almost sheer slope.

  “Crap!” Lee swore as he plunged ankle deep into the icy water.

  “Keep up!” Arizona ordered as he stooped to unlace his boot. By this time Government Bridge was in sight.

  “What is this—my worst nightmare?” Lee muttered. He looked as though someone had hit him on the head and he was still reeling.

  “Kind of,” I grunted, pulling myself up the granite rock face to a ledge that kept me clear of the stream. “But wait—there’s more!”

  “Keep your head down, Darina!” Arizona hissed. “Do you want to advertise us and get us all zapped back where we came from?”

  “Maybe,” I muttered under my breath.

  Fifty yards ahead, Phoenix heard me with his superhearing and frowned. He pointed to the two yellow earthmovers by the old bridge and a small knot of men standing nearby. “No sign of the surveyor,” he reported.

  “That’s not good.” Iceman was sure he’d heard the surveyor tell the guys he was heading upstream. “Maybe we should cut back and take another look.”

  “Not right now,” Arizona countered. The light was poor, but she’d noticed a worker splitting away from the group and heading toward us. My heart lurched when I saw he was carrying a shotgun.

  “What happened, Josh? What did you see?” another guy yelled after him. A third picked up his own gun from a flatbed truck.

  “I thought I saw something—coyote maybe,” the overweight one named Josh called over his shoulder. “Or maybe a deer.”

  Arizona took up position behind a tall rock. “Thanks, Darina,” she muttered. “That wouldn’t be coyote or deer—that would be you he saw.”

  “What you going to do—shoot it?” Josh’s buddies laughed at the clumsy run he was making up the hill toward us. “You planning on deer burger for supper?”

  They might have been idiots, but in spite of the laughter, there were two men with guns heading our way. Phoenix knew it was time to get serious.

  As I came up beside him and Iceman, crouching low behind a rock weathered into a tall, rounded pinnacle, I felt them set up the undead force field that had terrified me so many times in the recent past. First there was a fierce wind blowing dirt and grit in a cloud across the hillside, then the sound of sighing…then wings beating loud, deafeningly loud.

  “Crap!” Lee muttered from somewhere behind me. Shock had cut down his vocabulary, it seemed. “Is that a giant flock of birds, or what?”

  Invisible wings beating up a storm, battering at the guys with guns, forcing them to stoop forward and stop in their tracks. It grew darker. The guys raised their arms to shield their heads.

  “They’ll turn around—you watch!” I hissed at Lee.

  But not right away. These two were tough.

  “Whoa!” Josh yelled as the wings rose by Phoenix and Iceman blasted against them. “This is what those storm chasers go after—can you believe the adrenaline rush?”

  “What are we—in the eye of a tornado?” the other man cried. “Man, that sounds like wings to me…”

  More and more lost souls joined the force field to drive the guys back down to the bridge. They swept across the mountainside, flattening the grass and tearing at flowers, whirling against the outsiders until their legs buckled and they sank to the ground.

  “Wait for it—here come the death-heads!” I warned Lee.

  These were grown men who didn’t want to lose face in front of their buddies, but it was dark all at once and they were getting battered by a force they didn’t understand, being driven back down the hill. And now they were seeing things—nightmarish, unhealthy stuff you didn’t admit to after it had happened because people would shun you and call you crazy.

  Iceman, Phoenix, and Arizona had called in reinforcements. Death-heads appeared in the sky, blurred at first, then taking shape and hovering over the men, swooping down one by one, filling the guys’ vision with the yellow domes of skulls and eye sockets so deep and dark that they knocked everything from you but terror. I knew—I’d been there.

  I watched the men curl up on the ground. The three guys down by the bridge started to run up the hill, then they too felt the wings beat hard and relentless, saw their brave buddies curled up like fetuses—and maybe saw, or thought they saw, skulls appearing out of the darkness…and then they didn’t come any farther. Instead, they turned and ran blindly to their trucks. They didn’t wait for the two on the hillside—they started their engines and peeled out along the dirt road toward Turkey Shoot Ridge.

  Beside me, Lee slowly got a grip on what was happening. “We can do that?” he muttered. “We can get souls out of hell?”

  “Not hell—limbo.” Arizona had to be word perfect, even now. “Now watch these two—they’ve had enough.”

  She was right. Josh and his buddy had grabbed hold of each other. They raised themselves to their knees with expressions so agonized they didn’t look human. They left their guns behind as they slid and stumbled back down the hill.

  “Looks like those two get to walk home.” Hunter’s calm voice stole up on us from behind. He had a stranger with him—a vacant-looking gray-haired guy with glasses, dressed in a plaid shirt, jeans, and hiking boots. “You too,” he said to his companion.

  The man’s eyes were glazed. He didn’t see or hear anything going on around him.

  “Meet the surveyor,” Hunter explained. “He must have gotten past you without you knowing. Summer spotted him hiking down the hill toward the barn. There was no other way—I had to wipe the whole episode from his mind.”

  If I wanted to be with Phoenix, saving Arizona came as part of the deal. Every time I reminded myself of this, it was like swallowing bitter medicine.

  “You take care,” Phoenix told me by the old water tower on Foxton Ridge as we got ready to say good-bye. “And promise me—don’t rush into a situation unless you can see a way out.”

  “Since when did I do that?”

  “Since the first time we met. It’s what makes you interesting.” He was looking deep into my eyes, reading the hurt in my heart. “Most kids at Ellerton High live life with the brakes on. You don’t.”

  “And now you’re telli
ng me to be like the others.” I sighed. “Always check things out before I act, look over my shoulder, don’t rush. And anyhow, it’s worse than ever in town now—since, you know…”

  “The four deaths,” he interpreted. “A motorcycle crash, a drowning, a shooting, and a stabbing. How bad can it get?” I nodded. “They think it’s going to be them next, and so do their paranoid parents.”

  Stress levels had hit an all-time high in Ellerton. Kids were getting grounded for the least little thing; parents enforced curfews that a five-year-old would find hard to keep. “Every time I grab my car keys, Laura jumps on my back, asking where am I going, who with, and what for.”

  “So take care,” Phoenix repeated. He was holding my hand loosely now, staring down the slope toward the barn.

  I needed his full attention back on me so I put my arms around his neck. “What are you thinking?”

  “Nothing. It’s not important.” His arms came around my waist, but he still wasn’t fully there.

  I thought a kiss would do it—one of those sad, tender kisses for parting when it was the last thing we wanted to do. Wrong again.

  “I’m sorry, Darina.” Letting go of me and stepping back, Phoenix refused to meet my gaze. “Hunter needs me. I have to go.”

  I sensed small stabs of panic in my stomach and chest. Was he withdrawing from the total love I felt for him? If so, what had I said? What had I done? “I love you,” I whispered.

  He looked straight at me now with the faintest shake of his head. Almost no movement at all, but the negative was clear in his eyes. “I have to leave,” he said again. “You drive safely, OK?”

  I cried myself out before I reached home. I told myself I was being hypersensitive, that Arizona had gotten under my skin and the arrival of Lee Stone had thrown another unknowable ingredient into the mix.

  Driving through Centennial, I got myself back under control. Next time, Phoenix and I will be cool, I thought. I was imagining a problem that wasn’t really there. He still loves me as much as I love him, which is totally and forever.