Dead Water (12 page)

“
What happened?” Potter choked, spluttering water from his
throat.

“
I dunno,” Murphy coughed.

“
I think the water has made us whole again,” I breathed. “I
think it brought out what we truly are. I think it has cured us of
our hunger for the red stuff and restored our skin.”

“
And what about them?” Potter said.

“
Who’s them?” Murphy asked.

“
Them!”
Potter breathed, pointing back
towards the shore.

Together, Murphy and I looked in the direction Potter was
pointing.

“
I knew it,” Murphy whispered to himself. “I knew
it.”

“
Knew what?” I breathed, looking at the statues which had
gathered on the shore.

“
I knew they were following us,” Murphy said, heading back
across the lake towards them.

Chapter Nineteen

Kiera

Potter
threw my shirt at me from the shore. I snatched it out of the air.
With it trailing in the water, I put it on. With one eye on the
statues that had suddenly gathered along the shoreline, I pulled on
the rest of my clothes and boots. They stood, grey and lifeless,
their heads and hands tilted up towards the night sky. All of them
were young – no older than sixteen or seventeen years in age. I
counted eight in all. Potter glanced at me as he pulled on his
coat, then back at Murphy, who was passing amongst the statues.
Buttoning up his shirt, Murphy stopped before one of them. With his
nose just inches from it, he stared into the statue’s upturned
face. Taking a deep breath, I made my way along the shore to where
Murphy stood, seemingly transfixed by the statue. Then, so quick
that if I’d blinked I would have missed it, the statue suddenly
moved. It lowered its face and held out its hand. Swinging from the
statue’s fist was Murphy’s crucifix. Covering my open mouth with my
hands, I realised this was the statue of the girl I had seen moving
about the grounds of Hallowed Manor. Just like before, her face was
a network of ancient-looking cracks and fractures. Her eyes were
two white spheres.

With my
newfound heart starting to race in my chest, I stopped just inches
from Murphy and the statue of the young girl. Potter joined
me.

“
Meren?” Murphy whispered, screwing up his eyes and inspecting
the statue, who now looked blankly back at him. “Is it really
you?”

Slowly,
he reached out and took the crucifix from the statue’s cracked
hand. He looked in awe at it, then back at the statue.

“
Sarge?” Potter whispered. “Is that Meren? Is that your
daughter?”

“
Help me,” Murphy barked, taking hold of the stone girl before
him. “Help me get her into the Dead Waters.”

Potter
went to the statue, placed his arms around the back of her and
heaved. “Fuck, she’s a heavy girl,” he wheezed.

Murphy
shot him a look.

“
Sorry,” Potter muttered and doubled his efforts.

“
Let me help,” I said, wrapping my arms around the statue’s
legs.

“
On three,” Murphy grunted, bending his legs at the knees.
“One...two...three...
lift!”

Together
we heaved the statue off the sandy shore and struggled with her
towards the water. With the red waves lapping about our boots like
blood, we dropped the statue into the water. A wave splashed up
high above our heads. The statue rolled over, then disappeared
beneath the water. I stepped back onto the shore, as Murphy stood
knee-deep in the water.

“
Did she sink?” Potter whispered from beside me.

“
Shhh,” I hushed back, unable to take my eyes from the water
where the statue had disappeared.

Suddenly, a flurry of red bubbles appeared on the surface of
the water. Murphy staggered backwards. The water continued to
bubble like a saucepan of boiling hot water on a stove. Without
warning, something broke through the surface and shot at speed up
into the night sky. At once, the three of us snapped our heads back
to see what had suddenly appeared from beneath the Dead Waters.
High up in the sky I could see something dark corkscrew at speed
through the bright moonlight. At first it looked like an arrow, but
as I peered up through the night, I saw two black wings unfurl on
either side of it. Red water sprayed from them, raining down on us
like tears. The water splashed our upturned faces, as the figure
swept about.

“
Meren?” Murphy breathed out loud.

I looked
up again and as the figure swept out of the sky, I could now
clearly see it was indeed a young girl. She fluttered left, then
right, swooped and soared. To watch her reminded me of the time I
had secretly watched Kayla in the grounds of Hallowed Manner as she
had taught herself how to fly. Although this young girl was the
same age as Kayla – sixteen or seventeen – her hair was blue, not
red like my friend’s.

She
swept gracefully out of the sky, her wings beating softly like that
of a giant butterfly. The black surface of her wings twinkled in
the moonlight as if encrusted with a million diamonds. Gently, she
landed on the shore, white sand seeping between her
toes.

“
Meren?” Murphy croaked. I glanced at him to see tears
glistening on each cheek. “Is it really you?”

“
Dad,” Meren smiled at him. And when she smiled, her whole face
seemed to blossom. Her bright hazel eyes blazed a fiery orange.
Unable to hold back any longer, she raced across the shore towards
her father, white dress whispering around her calves. Her dark blue
hair flew out behind her like streaks of lightning. She was truly
beautiful.

Murphy
closed the gap between them in three giant strides, snatching her
up in his arms and spinning her around and around, her feet lifting
off the shore. Meren’s wings made a humming sound over the noise of
Murphy sobbing.

“
Meren, Meren, Meren!” he cried. “My precious daughter. Oh, my
God, sweet Meren you have come back to me.”

“
I love you, Dad,” Meren cried, tears now streaming down her
face.

With a
lump in my throat, and with my eyes starting to sting, I glanced at
Potter to see silent tears rolling down either side of his
face.

“
Are you okay?” I whispered, reaching out and gently squeezing
his hand in mine.

“
I know how much that means to my friend,” he said. “All I ever
wanted was to see him happy – or as happy as an old fart like him
can get.”

“
You really care about him, don’t you?” I whispered.

“
He’s been like a father to me,” Potter said, watching Murphy
and Meren cradle each other. “And now I have a sister,
too.”

I turned
to look at Murphy and Meren. “And I have a cousin,” I
whispered.

“
She looks like you,” Potter said, sliding his arm about my
shoulder and holding me close. “Beautiful.”

We
watched as Murphy held his daughter at arm’s length, as if studying
her. And although his face was streaked with tears, he had the
widest smile I’d ever seen spread across his face. “I’ve never seen
you look so well before,” he beamed. Then glancing over his
shoulder at us, he added excitedly. “The Dead Waters have cured
her. They have given her life. She is no longer sick, weak, and
fragile. She’s like you, Kiera.” Then, as if being struck across
the face, he looked at me and I knew what he was
thinking.

“
The Dead Waters,” I gasped. “That was the difference between
me and your daughters and those other children hidden away at
Hallowed Manor. That’s why I flourished and they didn’t. You placed
me in the Dead Waters just moments after I was born. It was the
water – the souls of those murdered by the Lycanthrope – which gave
me my strength.”

“
So, just like they have cured us of our cravings – made our
hearts start to beat again, they have saved Meren and...” Potter
started.

Before
Potter had the chance to finish, Murphy was darting between the
other statues and shouting, “Where is Nessa? We must get Nessa into
the Dead Waters, too!”

“
Dad,” Meren whispered, the smile she once had, now fading.
“Dad, Nessa didn’t make it.”

“
What are you saying?” Murphy said, glancing back at
her.

Meren
went to him, took him in her arms and said, “She faded away,
disintegrated into dust before we got here. Many of us woke a few
weeks ago from our graves at Hallowed Manor. Why we had come back,
we didn’t know. But we quickly turned to stone, some of us quicker
than others. I came in search of you – I knew you would be able to
help us. But our journey has been a difficult one, only being able
to move if we came into contact with blood. Peter went in search of
Lot-13 in the Manor House.”

“
Peter?” Murphy quizzed with a frown.

“
Do you remember the other two children in the hospital?” Meren
asked him. “They were brother and sister – Alice and
Peter?”

Murphy
nodded as he remembered, and I remembered them too. They had been
weak, almost lifeless, their bodies translucent as they lay hidden
in the attic at Hallowed Manor. It was then I remembered the dream
I had about a boy crawling towards me and asking for his sister,
Alice. They had been trying to reach us – ask us for
help.

“
Peter managed to get into Hallowed Manor, but it was difficult
for him. He could barely move as he was more stone than flesh,”
Meren continued. “But he came across a boy sleeping in a bed, so he
fed just a little from him, but he was disturbed by...”

“
By Kayla,” Potter suddenly cut in. “Peter was the statue Kayla
saw standing at the foot of Sam’s bed as he wrestled with the
change the matching had brought upon him.”

“
We were around you all the time,” Meren said, looking at
me.

“
I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling as if in some way we had
ignored their pleas for help. “Like you, we had only just woken up
in this
pushed
world. Until now, we never truly understood what or who you
were.”

“
To be honest,” Potter said, “I thought you were just another
part of this fucked up world. Just another piece in the Elders’
sick and twisted game they’ve been playing with us.”

“
I’m sorry we let you, your friends, and Nessa down,” I said,
my heart beginning to ache for them.

“
You were turning to stone, too, weren’t you?” Meren said,
looking at me.

“
Yes,” I whispered.

“
That’s why we followed you this far,” she said. “You seemed to
know more than we did somehow. I believed you could help
us.”

“
I saw you – I saw all of you at so many different times,” I
said, remembering.

“
It’s a bit difficult to hide when you’re made from stone, you
kinda stick out a bit,” Meren smiled, and yes, Potter was right,
she was truly beautiful. “But you left a trail of blood behind from
the many fights you fought – and that’s what kept us going.
Especially you,” she said, turning her attention to Potter. Those
police officers – the wolves beat you bad and you bled into the
snow. That helped us move on.”

“
I’m glad I was of service to you,” Potter muttered, taking a
cigarette and popping it into the corner of his mouth. “I remember
looking up and seeing the statues – you – as I was shoved into the
back of that police van.”

“
All of you left so much blood,” Meren said. Then, looking at
me, she added, “The half-eaten rats in the graveyard...”

“
Rats!” Potter grimaced through a cloud of smoke at
me.

“
I was turning into stone, too, I took anything I could get,” I
said.

“
We took them, too,” Meren smiled at me. “But for some of us,
the little bits you left behind weren’t enough, and they faded away
to dust.” Meren looked at Murphy and added, “It wasn’t enough for
Nessa, and I lost her. I’m so sorry, Dad.”

“
You have nothing to be sorry for,” Murphy said, taking his
daughter in his arms again. “I believed I had lost both of you, I
had come to terms with that. Never in my wildest dreams did I think
I would ever have this opportunity to feel such happiness again. To
have one of my precious daughters with me fills my heart with such
happiness that I don’t want it to be touched by the smallest
flicker of sorrow.” Murphy lent forward and kissed his daughter
tenderly on the forehead. “Let’s get the rest of your friends into
the waters.”

Together
the four of us lifted the other statues into the water. As we
waited silently on the shore for them to surface, I glanced at
Murphy and Meren. I remembered the statues I had seen in the
graveyard – the statues the Elders had shown me. The statue of
Murphy had been with two females, both I had believed were his
daughters. But Nessa wasn’t coming back, so who was the other? I
wondered.

Chapter Twenty

Potter

Just
like Murphy’s daughter had, the statues we placed in the lake
caused the water to rise up, froth, then bubble. The red water
suddenly began to violently stir, then erupt as the remaining
statues shot out of the water and raced up into the night. Their
silhouettes glided over the moon, as they spread their wings. Now
that they were free, they whisked through the night, I understood
that sense of freedom they must all now be feeling. To fly, to
soar, to swoop and dive was a feeling like no other. It was
freedom. To look down upon the Earth from such heights gave you a
detached feeling – a sense that you were not a part of the real
world, just a spectator, watching the world pass by below. Those
freed statues would be feeling all of that now. And like me they
would remember those feelings – that sense of freedom – for the
rest of their lives.