Page 54 of The Spiral
“I tried to get away, but you wouldn’t let me, Lewis, would you?” I mumble to myself, the gun rising slightly as I peek through the shoulders of the three. Why wouldn’t just let me go? Why? He scoffs at that, a sneer developing on that handsome face to reinforce my hatred of his being. That’s what I remember from him—that half sneer, permanently etched in to demean me, belittle me. “You should leave before it’s too late, Lewis. Let me get on with my life free of you.”
He takes a step forward, disdain heavy in his movement, his hand reaching for me. I glare in response, my back inching closer to Jack for more protection. It causes another frown from him, enough to stop his movement.
“I don’t want to leave with you, Lewis. We’re over. Finished. You’re not hurting me again.” He snarls and begins moving again, ready to push through the three men blocking him, and my hand raises of its own accord, ready to defend myself. “Stay back. I have all the help I need right here, Lewis. I’m warning you. I’ll kill you before I let you take me away from this place.”
I can feel the trigger on my finger, feel something making me want to pull at it. It’s Selma. She’s here inside me again, rallying me into killing without thought. I quiver, trying to fight the impulse, but he moves again and panics me into action. I jump back, trying to get out of his way, but knock into the wall in the scurry. The impact causes the gun to shoot into the room without true intention to harm, noise exploding in the confines.
Before I know what’s happened, the tall man has leapt for him, sounds snarling through the room in his wake. Lewis turns and bolts, and the other two launch after him, too, all three of them in pursuit as howling suddenly erupts in the house. I run after them, no thought other than what’s going to happen when they catch him. I didn’t mean to shoot. I didn’t. I just wanted to scare him off, make him leave me alone so I could be free.
The second I’m out the door, I see the small man turning the top of the spiral, his feet scampering around the corner, and I triple my pace in the hope that I’ll get to them before they do permanent damage. The gun bashes against the wood work as I travel downwards, my own feet stuttering each step for fear of losing balance. Another howl sounds below, already a distance in front, like a pack of hounds chasing their kill. It’s sickening to hear, making me bound onwards and keep turning, desperate to end this before it begins.
Too late. That’s what I said. Before it’s too late. Oh god. They heard that in me, didn’t they? Jack said to use them. That they’d protect me. And that’s what they’re doing now. Protecting me. Killing the thing that threatens me.
“Jack!” I call back, still rounding corners and trying to take two steps at a time. “Jack, help.”
I spin my head back, looking for him, but he’s nowhere to be seen and I haven’t got time. These men are going to kill Lewis, aren’t they? They’re maniacal. Probably mad, certainly that way inclined because of whatever Jack’s been doing. I just need to catch up with them, tell them to stop. They can frighten Lewis off, make him too scared to come for me again, but he doesn’t need to be dead. If Callie’s alive then he just needs to go and leave me alone.
“Run, Lewis,” I shout out, feet clambering around the curves.
I career around the bottom of the spiral, heading straight for the open main door at the end of the hall in the hope I can catch up with them, but by the time I reach the outside, it’s black as the night, the fog of Selma already rolling in across the gravel drive and proving ghostly nightmares.
“Selma, I don’t want this,” I pant out, searching the blackness for them and listening for more volleys of howls. None come other than the faint sound of birds chattering somewhere and the eerie silence she always brings. I lift the gun again, ready to defend myself if needed but unsure what that means anymore. The dogs? Lewis? I’m not certain who should be chasing who anymore, or why any of this is happening. “He doesn’t have to die, Selma. We can let him go. We’ll be safe then.”
You’re nearly home, Maddy.
The fog becomes denser as I rush onto the drive, hindering any sight at all. I listen to the last of her echo as I plough through the thick, heavy haze, trying to remember my way into the woods that we were in earlier. I don’t know what she means. This isn’t my home. This is their home, their life and their love. I’m so confused and panicked that I turn towards the treehouse. Perhaps they’ve chased him in there. If not, there’s always the headland or the bog. It’s not somewhere anyone wants to go in this murk, but I guess when you’re running for your life, fear of death pushing you onwards, and you don’t know when you’re running to, anywhere is good enough to escape to.
Sure footing underneath or not.