Mask of Flies (42 page)

“BAH.” Allie jumped
and turned around. The deer scampered off.

An emaciated, bearded
man in ragged clothing stood behind her, he bared little semblance of
the Rick that she remembered, but it was him, nonetheless. “Easy
lady, I thought I saw your skeleton jump out of your skin,” he
said.

“I’m glad you can
find humor in this god awful situation.” Allie projected in a
hoarse whisper.

“I know you’re
frustrated, Allie. I know all this is unbelievable and that a part of
you doesn’t trust me entirely. I brought you here to prove
something beyond explanation has happened to me, to help you
understand
that I am
not cracking up.” Rick produced a sharpened screwdriver from
underneath his tattered trench coat.

Allie took a stepped
back.

“Relax, it’s for
me.” He raised the palm of his opposite hand and ran the tool
diagonally across. It parted his flesh but he did not bleed. “Come
here. I'm okay, it's okay. I want to show you something even
stranger.”

He took her hand by her
fingers and pressed them firmly on the side of his neck. His skin was
blue and cold, and his pulse was nowhere to be found. She fumbled
around trying to find it.

“I have been out in
the woods since the last time I saw you. I haven’t eaten much or
drank much, haven’t felt the need to. ”

Allie didn't know what
to say.

He attempted to pull
her to him, but she wouldn’t. “I know this isn’t what either of
us would have ever wanted . . .” Rick said.

“You need to go to
the hospital.” Her tears felt cold on her face.

“You know I can't …
Just know that I love you. Know that I am close, but far enough away
to not cause you any more trouble.”

A glint of light shined
through the trees. Voices and laughter erupted from further down the
trail, young voices.

“I have to go now,
Allie—goodbye.” Rick climbed over the wooden rail of the
boardwalk and disappeared downward into the dark wilderness.

A sweet smell wafted
over with a light breeze from the direction of the voices that
reminded Allie of a much simpler time.

* * *

All at the same time
a wonderful and terrifying sensation: the quickening of feet, a fist
grazing the inside of her womb at night. She found comfort in that
and had the first restful sleep in four and a half months, when all,
this
, began. Such a
long winter with the first snowfall on Halloween, and now, mid-March
the snow is still on the ground. Four and a half months since she
last saw or heard from Rick; she did think about him often, wondered
if he had survived the frozen winter, wondered if he was indeed
watching from a distance.

She was alone.

And another baby girl.
Two days ago her OB had provided that she was having a completely
normal and healthy pregnancy, unprecedented for an expecting mother
her age, when so much can go wrong, a miracle considering the
circumstances. So excited by the news, she considered calling her
adult daughters to share the news, but then thought of how bizarre it
would be tell them that they would have a baby sister.

And in the past few
months things with the detectives had calmed down—when they
determined that Allie truly did not know Rick’s location and that
questioning her was going absolutely nowhere. She got back to work,
back to normal life; without him, in the big empty world, just her
and the baby in her stomach. Her other kin with lives and children of
their own spread out across the country.

Loneliness was her new
normality and perhaps she played the pariah of the neighborhood well,
simply shrinking back into her home each night. A pregnant hermit.

However, this perception of new
normalcy was short-lived, and it wasn't long before the latent
strangeness made itself present in her life again. It started with
the article in the Buffalo News:

Developments and Fallout from
Serial Rapist of Mentally Disabled
By Sarah Reynog

At McIntyre House, a home for the mentally disabled, reports of a
man being sexually involved with several of their female residents
has rattled the facilities administrators. The McIntyre Foundation
launched their own investigation, using the facility’s surveillance
cameras, and uncovered that the reports were credible: a man was seen
entering residents rooms through the outer perimeter windows.

The facility has since been outfitted with updated window locks
that would keep patients from escaping or letting a stranger in. The
update has been deemed reactionary and many criticize the Executive
Director for his soft stance on facility security. Now, three of the
disabled residents have produced positive pregnancy tests.

We have yet to receive an official statement from McIntyre House,
but we did talk to the Facility Councilor, Jessica Sanderson on
sight. She went on the record stating: “The positive pregnancy
tests really complicate an ugly situation. The girls lack the
facilities to properly take care of a newborn child, but they very
much want to mother their children. They see it as their right as
woman.

“
Forced abortions of disabled persons, unable to make educated
decisions themselves, have been a legal quagmire for the past decade.
It would a difficult task for the leaders of McIntyre House to make
any legal headway before the fetuses pass the window of termination.
There are other options, such as adoption, but the favorability of
that situation would be contingent on the birthmother’s agreement
to separate from their children.”

Amherst Police have investigated the surveillance footage and have
identified the suspect as Rick Soblinski, an Amherst man, who is also
wanted for questioning in relation to a multiple missing person
report filed at a local retirement home where he worked.

Three
others,
Allie thought to herself,
all
of us from him.
She rubbed her belly and stood looking out
her bedroom window, a full moon lit up the snow. Our only true
understanding of eternity is the passing of ourselves down, although
halved each iteration, our children to grandchildren, and so on and
so forth, only if we are lucky some piece of us lingers on.

The woman that stole
Rick, if true, was in a mad rush to pass those pieces of herself on.
Allie suddenly felt that her pregnancy may not be as uncomplicated as
the doctor made it out to sound. When she went to draw the curtains
she saw the strangest thing climbing on the window; a shiny red fly,
the size of a carpenter bee. It buzzed and butted its head against
the window. On the upper pane, she noticed two others doing the same.

Thank you, dedicated reader, for seeing this one through until the
end. There is certainly more to the tale, waiting to be unearthed. In
the meantime, I have a favor to ask you: word-of-mouth is critical
for an independent author’s success. If you enjoyed the book,
please leave a review on Amazon. Even a few sentences would be
helpful, and of course, I’d be much obliged:
Click
here to review.

Until
we meet again,
Eric Leitten