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Rue
Istare at him like he’s nuts.
“So, I was alone, thinking nobody cared about me because of a call made by the feds? No offense, guys, but I don’t remember any of you. I’m sure you’re all awesome, but I wouldn’t have sacrificed myself for you. I’m sure I would have in a heartbeat if I had all the memories. But being told one of you had been taken, and only I could save you, would have screamed setup. And I would have said no. No offense.”
Lance starts snickering, and I shrug. I look behind him to Nathan, who is leaning against the wall, watching me.
“I didn’t mean to sound like a bitch. It’s just… If Nathan hadn’t come see me, I would have been alone. I woke up in a grave, and nobody seemed to care. I started thinking that I must have been this horrible person not to have any friends. I…”
“Shit, that wasn’t our intention, Rue. We’re used to following orders but not using our brains, apparently.”
I bite my lip, knowing there’s no point in dwelling on it. We might have been friends, but I can only assume it was because we worked together. If seeing me was an issue, then they could have called.
“It doesn’t matter now. Let’s go over this from the beginning. I’m at a huge disadvantage here, so the best way to go about it is to talk to me like I’m a stranger who has never heard of the Lullaby Killer.”
“Alright. Lance, grab the files,” Eddie orders.
Lance leaves the room while the other guys sit.
“How did I end up working here with you all?”
Cyril smirks. “You came here maybe five years ago, all fire and sass. It was a cover, of course. Any good cop could see beneath the act; you were a nervous wreck, but I guess I can understand that. It’s not easy doing what you do.”
“And you guys believed me right away?”
“Oh, I’d love to say yes, but no. We were all pretty skeptical, except Lance. His mom believes in all that…stuff. He was more open to it all.”
“The first time you told us about one of your visions, you became a suspect,” Eddie admits. “You knew too much to be the average Joe. I could see it in your eyes every time you came here—that part of you wished you’d never opened your mouth. But you kept coming back. Kept trying to help. And then, one day, you had a vision right here.”
Cyril jumps in. “It was like the lights were on, but nobody was home. You didn’t talk, move, or respond to anyone, then suddenly, you were throwing up over a trash can, telling us about what you saw. Only this time, the victim was new. We were able to get there in record time because you were able to describe exactly what you were seeing as if you were looking out through someone else’s eyes. It was creepy as fuck. Even listening to youdescribe what happened, you’d speak in this monotone voice that used to make the hairs on my arms stand up on end.”
“I was too late to save them, though,” I guess. Seems to be the story of my life.
Cyril walks over to the board, tugs off the photo of the fourth victim, and places it on the table in front of me.
“Abigail Martin. She was the first one you saw die, it’s what brought you to us. In a messed-up way, I like to think that at least with you there, she wasn’t alone. None of them were after that. I know in movies, people like you are supposed to save the day. But you don’t have superpowers, despite what people might think. You don’t see the future. You see the present, which I’m sure you found frustrating, but over half the evidence we have was collected because of leads you gave us.”
“I understand what you’re saying, but I feel like I have this unbelievable gift, and yet I’m still helpless.”
“We’re all helpless. We’re waiting around for this asshole to make his next move, and that thought alone makes me feel like a failure. We’re doing the best we can, Rue. That’s all any of us can do,” Nathan says gently.
“He’s right, Rue. You’re not God,” Eddie states as the door opens, and Lance walks back in with three boxes stacked in his arms.
Nathan moves around to drag one of the tables close to us and steps back so that Lance can place the boxes down. Lifting the lid, he reaches in for a handful of files and places them on the table, spreading them out. “These are the files for the first four victims.”
I pick up the one closest to me, flip it open, and skim through the details, knowing I can go deeper into it in a moment.
“So, Marlon James was the first victim,” Nathan says, sitting on the edge of the table.
“We didn’t know he was, though, until later on. The body was exhumed, and traces of Sono-d were found in his blood,” he continues.
“I take it his case was re-investigated because he had ties to Briarwood House.”
Cyril nods. “He was once a patient there.”
“Yeah, without that, we would never have known to look for Sono-d,” Lance states.
I bite my lip in thought. “How sure are we that he is actually the first victim?”
