Sacrifice

'Do you come out often?'

'Whenever he's getting tricked. Luke's school-smart, but he don't know people. Not like me.'

'And the baby?'

'That's Susie— she's a runaway. When they hurt us, she comes. Runaway. You can't hurt the baby— she doesn't feel things.'

'Does that make you mad? When they hurt you?'

'I don't feel it. But when they do things, we remember. We remember. And…'

I was ready for it this time, saw the eye movement. The boy's face hardened, bone structure prominent, stretching the skin. 'Blood,' the skull said. It wasn't a human voice.

Doc didn't miss a beat. 'Blood?' he asked.

'Baby blood. Clean new blood. Mine. I need it.'

'Who are you?'

'Satan's Child. I am Satan's Child.'

'What do you do?'

'I kill,' the voice coming from Luke said.

'Who do you kill?'

'I kill babies. Little stupid babies.'

'Why do you kill babies?'

'For their hearts. To eat their hearts.'

'Why do…?'

Luke launched himself at Doc, humming a baby tune, his eyes screaming. One little hand in a fist, the other pushing against Doc's chest, steadying the target. Stabbing motions, the blows so powerful Doc grunted in pain. I grabbed Luke from behind, pulling— his muscles coiled like steel snakes. I twisted his left hand behind his back. It took all my strength to bend it up toward his neck, right to the breaking point. He kept humming his baby tune, stabbing. Doc fell to the floor, Luke still on top. Terry yelled something. Luke went rigid in my hands, a piece of iron. I put him back in the easy chair. He lay like a board, spine not touching the chair back.

We watched. Luke was drenched in sweat, red and white splattering his face from inside. He went limp. More time passed. Luke squirmed, shrugged his shoulders. Rubbed his eyes like he just woke up.

'Hello, Luke,' Doc said.

'Hi. It's a great cave, isn't it? Terry was showing me just before you came down.'

'Yes, it's a great cave. How do you feel?'

'I feel good. Can we go to the zoo again someday?'

Doc didn't answer him, watching.

'Can we, Burke?'

'Sure,' I told him. Hands in my pocket so he wouldn't see them shake.

69

Outside, in the air. Luke had gone off with Terry Happy kid, fascinated with the secrets the older boy was going to show him. I handed Doc my pack of smokes without him asking.

'You ever see it before?' I asked him.

'Multiple Personality Disorder? Sure. I did a stint in a mental hospital while I was interning. You see it in women much more than men. Never saw a kid before, but it's supposed to always start in childhood…we're just not around to pick it up.'

'You're sure?'

'The personalities have names. Different voices. The last one…you felt his strength?'

'Yeah. I could barely hold him.'

'The big thing…he's amnesic. He loses time. You ask him what happened down there, he won't know. Push him hard enough, and he'll make it up…fill in the gaps.'

'Lily says he does that. Fakes it.'

'He's not faking, Burke. What he does, it's called confabulation. He can't account for the lost time, doesn't know what happened. But he knows something did. He's not ready to let anybody see his secret.'

'Does he know we know?'

'No…I don't think so. Maybe some small part of him, some observer-personality. Sometimes, one of the personalities can listen in on what the others are doing. I don't know how distinct the splits are…there may be more of them inside.'

A dog howled in the distance.

'He killed those babies,' I said.

'Luke didn't…it was the other one. They're as separate and distinct as you and me.'