Scarecrow (31 page)

The sky was thicker when we reached the pasture at last. I knew I’d been here before, and I felt a curious mixture of relief and dread as I spotted the shed backed up to the woods.

“Seth! Rachel!” I threw myself on the door, not knowing what to expect, what I might find as I wrestled it open and flung it wide—

Seth had been here.

The sack he’d taken that morning…the canteen. Both lay on the floor.

Seth
had
been here. But he wasn’t here now.

No one was.

My heart sank within me. Clutching the door frame, I gave in to a moment of panic before taking myself roughly in hand again. Every moment was precious. There was no time for what-ifs.

I turned to see Girlie running off through the trees, and my heart took a sickening leap into my throat.
The cave!
That was the way Seth had taken me that day, there on the winding path between the bluffs, to the place he had worked so painstakingly to conceal.

“Girlie! Wait! Don’t go!”

I started after her, but if she heard me, she gave no sign. I couldn’t let her find that awful place—that row of graves where all of Micah’s tragic victims had been secretly disposed of…
You’ve heard of people disappearing into thin air…well this is it…

“Girlie! No! Come back!”

I crashed through the tangled underbrush, my breath echoing loudly in the quiet. My chest was aching from the cold, the exhaustion, the ongoing battle against hopelessness; far ahead of me I could hear limbs popping, twigs snapping, snow crunching beneath the weight of tiny, determined feet.

Why is she going there, I thought, and it occurred to me that she hadn’t hesitated for a minute, that she knew the path, knew exactly where she was going…
he’s with Seth…
and I froze in my tracks, stark terror blinding me for an instant. “Oh God, no,” I mumbled, though I didn’t even know what I expected, what I was afraid to see, only that something,
something,
was very, very wrong here, Girlie plunging ahead on this secret, forbidden path as if she knew—
knew
—what lay at the end—something she intended to show me—

“Girlie, stop!” I pleaded, “Please stop.” But my voice wasn’t carrying past the pounding of my heart, the gasping of my breath, and there was a thought there—something about Seth—something that might have to do with Seth, waiting for me soon, soon, at the end of this twisted path, only I wouldn’t let it come, wouldn’t acknowledge it, because then it couldn’t happen—couldn’t exist—it could never ever be true.

I didn’t feel my legs carrying me the rest of the way but suddenly I was there at the entrance, scrambling over the fallen rubble, and there was Girlie, down on her hands and knees, pulling at the rocks, shoving them away from their neat piles…

“Girlie…” My words came dully, a voice I didn’t even recognize as my own. “Girlie…what are you…”

But she didn’t seem to recognize me either, didn’t seem even to know I was there, just kept digging…and clawing…and going deeper…deeper…into the grave.

“See?” she said breathlessly. “See?”

And her voice was tight with excitement—or fear—I couldn’t tell. Her eyes were big and imploring, as the rocks heaped up around her.

“See?” she said again, and I
did
see, then—as I moved like a machine to the edge of the mound where Girlie had pulled so many rocks away.

I
did
see—the thing that had to be an arm…and the shoulder it was attached to…and how fresh it looked, I thought, lying there as if it were only asleep.

And then Girlie flung more rocks away and I saw more of it—the head and straggly blond hair—some woman I would never know but knew I would never forget—her face—the elements already wearing her away—earth to earth—dust to dust—

“Girlie,” I mumbled, feeling as if I would faint, but she was pulling, pulling, excited and intense—so very intense—and pointing and her mouth moving in desperate soundless sounds—pulling—pointing to the woman’s slender neck—

Where the handprints still showed.

Where the ugly bruises still stood out, imprinted in the skin—

The strangle marks…the handprints…

Two handprints.

And I fell on my knees beside Girlie and grabbed her close.
Micah’s handprints…

Except Micah only had one hand.

S
OMEWHERE IN THE BACK
of my mind I think I knew it even then, a realization too terrible to acknowledge, some faraway glimmer that my mind refused to focus on.

I only knew that the world crashed down around me…that there was only Girlie and me…and the bleak, barren cold that surrounded us…seeping into my body…my heart…my mind…relentless…unmerciful…

My brain refused to function. My mind couldn’t seem to register—not even the smallest, most obvious thing. Like Girlie suddenly stiffening in my arms, suddenly looking back toward the mouth of the cave, suddenly trying to pull me to my feet…and I saw her, yet it was like looking through a fog; I felt her, yet I couldn’t give a name to the expression on her face.

I looked back at the corpse and the marks on the neck—the two handprints that were stamped indelibly on the flesh, the ten-fingered brand that had snuffed out the life…and my hope…

And the world slammed into me with incredible force, jarring me back to the worst kind of reality, just in time to hear Girlie say, “Somebody’s coming!”

I don’t remember grabbing her, or moving, or even being afraid. Suddenly we were just there, sunk down into the darkness on the other side of the graves, and I was thinking of our telltale footprints in the snow…the body half dug from its hiding place…

I could hear them—the footsteps—heavy, awkward, coming closer…closer…sharp on stone…yet even as I crouched there, waiting, my tortured, trapped thought broke free at last, flooding through me with a deadly rush.

And suddenly it didn’t seem to matter anymore, hiding or even being afraid.

Because Seth must have done it, I thought.

Seth must have done it all.

My reflexes acted slowly, like a drugged man awakening from an age-old sleep. I saw the black empty tunnel around us, and the rows of mounded rocks, and the hazy outline of the cave opening in the distance—but nothing else. The footsteps lurched closer, but nobody was there. Girlie squeezed my hand, but it took me a long time to feel it, and when I finally realized that she had ahold of me, I was slowly surprised to feel her trembling. I looked down at her face, round saucer eyes filling my vision. She was terrified.

Seth…Seth did it all…

The footsteps lumbered purposefully toward us, scraping across the stone floor.
My God…where is he?

Girlie made a whimpering sound, and I covered her mouth with my hand.

The noises stopped.

There was no sound at all now. My breath burned in my throat as I tried to hold it. I hadn’t felt Girlie’s breath against my fingers for a long time. I shook my head at her. She was so still I wondered briefly if she’d fainted.

Something turned in the cave entrance.

Through a veil of terror I saw a black silhouette etched against the gray light.

Whatever it was, it began to go back.

For an eternity we stayed as we were, not daring to move lest our stirring give us away. Every sound echoed and hung in the air. I knew that whoever was out there had us trapped.

Girlie began shaking again. I gathered her in my arms and held her tightly, trying to transfer my body heat into hers. I didn’t realize how cold I’d grown myself. We clung together, the wet and cold stealthily taking their toll.

Dusk began to filter in from outside, slowly submerging us in hopeless darkness. I rocked Girlie in my arms, but she only hung there limp and exhausted. I cursed myself for having been so stupid and irresponsible. If only I hadn’t tried to be brave, to be helpful, we’d still be back at the house, warm and dry, we’d never have come to this awful place…I’d never have known…

Like neat little puzzle pieces, memories and thoughts began to fall slowly into place.

Seth had done it all…

It had been Seth—not Micah—who had murdered these victims. Seth who had buried them here so nobody would ever know. He had blamed it all on Micah, so I would never suspect him—and I had believed him totally.

There were so many things I’d wanted to believe.

Choking back tears now, I rocked Girlie against me, tucking her inside my jacket. Why hadn’t I listened to my first instincts about Seth; why had I let down my guard and changed my mind? He hadn’t wanted me here to begin with, yet he had carried me here himself. He had been strange and frightening and distant, yet he had finally seemed to change.

He could easily have left me at the scene of the accident. He might have been planning to kill me that first night he’d watched me in the barn. It had been Micah’s idea to help me get away that night, and he had been so insistent—so scared. I’d told him that Seth was taking me along to the bottom acre the next day, and Micah had been
scared.
I’d seen it in his eyes. I’ll help you get away, he’d said—only Micah hadn’t showed up. Because Franny had told.
And don’t ever say anything, Seth had said to me, about any of this…it’s something nobody wants to talk about…

Micah hadn’t been there—because Seth had found out about our plan. Micah hadn’t been there because Seth had done something to him.
The cellar.
The images sickened me, the chains, the cruelty…
sometimes Micah has to stay here…
But not because Micah was crazy. Not because of Micah.
“Do you think you’re the first?”
Micah had looked so frightened, even then. How many other times had he been thrown into that cellar because he’d tried to warn Seth’s victims and help them get away? Defiance wouldn’t be tolerated, I knew that now. I’d seen other instances of it, and it wasn’t a pretty sight: Franny’s disobedience, the rage, the scarecrow in the fire. And Franny’s words hit me, making sense at last: “Ask Seth. He’s the one to ask. He’s the one.”

I saw Micah’s limp body in Seth’s arms. With all of us around the place, and it was Seth who had happened to find Micah lying out there, with not a soul around to help him.
He never hurt anybody…he never did a mean thing in his life…
Tears squeezed out between my clamped eyelids.
Oh, Micah, Micah, did Seth kill you, too?

He’d been standing there the day Girlie had taken me to the grave in the cemetery. Seth, just standing there, and I’d wondered why, in the middle of the day; Seth who had shown such little sentiment, so little remorse. And Girlie had been afraid. And at the time I couldn’t figure out why she’d even brought me there, but now it seemed all top clear.

She’d known that Dewey was buried there.

Even then she’d been trying to tell me. Somehow—
somehow
—she’d known, and had tried to warn me of the danger. Maybe she’d seen Seth kill him…carry the body there…bury it in a newly dug grave that no one would ever think to disturb. And by burying Dewey, he’d cut off my last chance of escape.

The tears flowed faster now, ice trickles upon my frozen cheeks.
Why, Seth, why?
Memories washed over me in bittersweet waves. Everything Seth had aroused in me, everything he’d discovered within me that I hadn’t even known myself…and all of it nothing—
nothings.

How many others had he been with before the end? How many others had he held and made love to and destroyed? Had they all grown passive, as I had? So totally, so carelessly unsuspecting? How many other graves lay in these hills, these woods, unmarked, unclaimed? And where had he planned on putting me?

“Why?” I wept into the musty tangle of Girlie’s hair. Why hadn’t he killed me then and gotten it over with—killed me when I was so ready to die?
“He can’t help himself, you know…and afterward…after he does those things…he never remembers, it would kill him if he knew…he’d never be able to forgive himself…
” And he hadn’t really been talking about Micah—he’d been talking about
himself.
“Oh, Seth…” His hands…his lips…his body…filling me…filling me…“Seth…”

He had made me live again.

And now he would make me die.

“No!” The mocking echo of my voice startled me. I roused myself as if waking from a dream.

We had to get out of here.

I couldn’t see Girlie anymore; I held her from me and gave her a little shake. Her head dangled against my arms. “Can you walk?” I asked her. I felt her nod, and I planted a kiss on her forehead. “We’ve got to try and make it home. Do you think you can remember the way?”

Life seemed to flow back into her. She nodded again.

“Is there another way back besides the way we came?”

“Yes, I can find it.”

“Good. Let’s go. And be very quiet.”

She put her finger to her lips to show she understood. Whoever had followed us to the cave might still be out there. We hadn’t heard any sound for a long time, but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t waiting for us to make our move.

We threaded our way slowly through the woods, up the craggy sides of the bluffs, and with every step I held my breath. The soft crunch of snow underfoot was like gunshots. Our breath gusted like wind. Even my heartbeat was a sharp staccato through the trees. My eyes fixed themselves intently on Girlie’s small figure moving carefully but surely ahead of me in the moonlight. My mind raced, out of control, thoughts fluttering in and out like frenzied birds:
a change in routine upsets him…you should never have
c
ome…Micah can’t sleep…poor Micah…you should never have come…Franny’s gone…never…he’s with Seth…never never never have come…

What had Seth done with Micah? It was obvious by what Girlie had said that Seth had indeed exchanged bodies in Micah’s grave and taken him someplace else. As more pieces began to complete the picture, I found myself amazed at his cleverness. He had staged this whole disappearance, of course. He had been near the house all along. He’d made the noises to upset us, to start our imaginations working—
a change in routine upsets him
—the shuffling noises, the horrible, unknown noises—
afraid something awful will happen
—the noises that came down the hall—
that scared look on Micah’s face when he found Franny’s scarecrow…because he had known…he’d known what Seth could do when he’d been defied…
the noises that terrified Franny out of her mind…