Page 26 of Save Us
The promise of a sweet treat placates my little monster, and she happily takes Jen’s hand to head into the kitchen with her same, previous skip. As I watch her go, I catch sight of Mal inside of the front room, staring at a television screen that is playing but muted. He doesn’t move a muscle as he stares blindly at the screen before him, just sighs every now and then. I eyeball Jen, but she simply encourages me with a quick nod, giving me the go-ahead to go and speak to the zombie currently sitting inside of her living room.
“Hi, Mal,” I say softly before walking over to sit in the armchair next to him.
At first, it’s as though he hasn’t even seen me, but when I wave in front of his vacant stare, he snaps out of his trance and moves his lips into a fake smile. It’s one that’s too wide to be real.
“Xander? My God, I didn’t even hear you arrive,” he says, before getting to his feet to shake my hand. “Where’s little Rose? In the naughty drawer no doubt.”
I laugh and nod to confirm his suspicion.
“How are you doing, Mal?” I ask him with a sorrowful expression, for I already know how hard it’s hitting him. “And don’t try and be polite, be honest with me.”
He sighs before laughing breathily toward the floor. His eyes look deep inside of his hands which are linked together in front of his knees. He’s hunched over, barely keeping himself from crumpling onto the floor.
“Honestly? Pretty shit, Xander, pretty fucking shit!” he replies, smiling tightly and I notice his glazy eyes behind his glasses. “I’ve lost my mum, the most wonderful woman in the world, and my daughter. If it weren’t for Jen and Riley, I think I would be giving up on life right about now.”
“I get that, Mal, believe me, I do,” I tell him, recalling my desperate urge to try and join Beth when she first passed away. But in the end, I knew I had to be there for our daughter. “Let Jen help you though; I mean we’re all here for you, but Jen especially.”
“Shit, Xander, I’ve had some really dark thoughts recently. Real fucked up dreams too,” he admits as he removes his glasses and begins to rub his dark eyes with his knuckles. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. “I think I’m starting to believe I’m cursed!”
“What?!” I gasp, almost laughing because he sounds straight-up crazy.
“His blood runs through my veins, and the two women who were affected by that monster the most, are now gone!” He almost sobs but manages to swallow it back. “What if I’m paying for his sins?”
“Look, Mal, I didn’t know Rosalie very well, but she got to live most of her life with the man she loved, and a son she was damn proud of. I could tell that by the way she looked at you, and I must have only been in that nursing home for what? Twenty minutes at the most?” I shake my head because I know how hard this is for him, but he’s got to snap out of this fucked up way of thinking. “And Beth?” I say before I breathe out slowly because I still can’t say her name without wanting to slowly die, just so I can see her again. “Beth died naturally; unfairly, but naturally. Neither of their deaths were your fault, so quit talking crazy and come and say hello to your granddaughter!”
Tough love – make or break?
“Grandad!”
Right on cue, Rosie comes shooting through the door, all blonde ringlets, and beaming smiles before launching herself unapologetically into his arms. Mal jolts in surprise before wrapping his huge arms around her tiny body and revels in it, hopefully snapping him out of his darkness.
“I’m sorry about Great Nanny,” she mumbles over his shoulder, “are you really sad, Grandad?”
“You know, Rose, I am sad, your great nanny was a lovely lady,” he says, smiling at her, “but at least I have you here to try and make me feel better.”
She smiles back at him, looking proud of herself over what he’s just said.
Chapter 11
Beth
Sunlight blurs my vision when I wake from a sleep that feels like I’ve been out of it for about a thousand years, trapped in a blissful darkness from which I had hoped I wouldn’t wake. My first proper breath hurts like hell, radiating across my chest with a burning pain. It ignites all my other injuries and I let out a small gasp when I try to move even the slightest bit. It hurts so bad, a few tears roll down my cheeks, forcing me to squeeze my eyes tightly shut.
“Murphy, morphine for my granddaughter please,” orders a familiar voice. “Try not to move, my dear, it will only hurt, and I think you’re suffering with enough pain for the moment.”
When I finally have the courage to open my eyes again, I notice I’m inside an alien room, somewhere I’ve never been before. I don’t even think I’m in New York anymore, it’s much too quiet and it looks rural outside the window. My mouth is dry, and I don’t feel like I can talk, so remain tight-lipped, even when I feel someone putting something into a drip that is attached to a tap in my hand. The owner of the voice, Carl Steele, comes to sit in front of me. I can only see his knee which he crosses over the other one, as though getting comfortable to talk to me.
It takes a few minutes for the drugs to kick in, but when they do, I finally feel able to breathe in comfortably, and for a calmness to wash over my entire body.
“Would you like some water, my dear?” Carl asks like any other friendly, old grandfather might, but I know enough not to trust him. I simply make an ‘mmm’ noise in response, then try to sit up so I can drink it without spilling water all over myself. Surprisingly, someone from behind helps to pull me up with gentle hands, and I appreciate it, even though I have no idea who it is. Not until I am propped up against some big, white pillows.
“Thank you, Leo,” Carl says to him before lifting a straw to my lips. I take it to sip slowly, indulging in the cool, quenching liquid as it slides down my dormant throat.
“W-where…” I begin with a half-croak, half-whisper.
My voice has obviously not been used in a while, which has me wondering how long I’ve been out of it. When I look around the small bedroom, there are machines surrounding me, the type you would find in a hospital; the type that monitors your heartbeat.
“You are at my house, Beth,” he explains with a smile, “I’m afraid I insisted after Oliver beat you into a comatose state. You were close to death and had to be put into an induced coma. I have had top physicians monitoring you day and night, not to mention Leo, here, has been securing your safety since your arrival.”