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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.
Throughbone?
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 thefuckjust 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.
