They were probably discussing how Dell had misreported a crime. After all, he was just some small-town cop with nothing to do all day except to pick up the trash on the side of the road and rescue kittens from trees. The troopers didn’t consider him a real cop, and they weren’t going to treat him like one.
It was a shame. She’d always liked Dell. If she had a son like him, she suspected that she wouldn’t have had to carry this kind of burden all by herself.
Kegan was called over by the troopers and brought into their huddle. He nodded, said a few words, and then shook their hands as they left.
The doors closed, shutting out the cold and the light, and Kegan lingered with his back turned after they left. Iris watched him as he lowered his head and then looked to Pat, who transformed back into her original form, quick as shedding a towel.
Kegan finally turned and walked toward Iris as the witch neared as well. The three of them huddled together in the foyer, but Iris was still looking at the doors.
“They’re going to leave a unit here in case Dell comes back,” Kegan said. “And they’ve requested that if we hear from anyone, or remember anything, to give them a call.” He reached into his pocket and removed one of the trooper’s cards.
The witch laughed, the high-pitched squeal growing louder until it faded with a quick breath as she inhaled. “I suppose it helps to have a person that’s immortal to help tip the scales in your favor.” She walked toward the staircase and ascended the steps. “I’ll be in the room, preparing for tonight.” She turned back and cast them a glare with a flash of fire and brimstone in her eyes. “I hope you can hold on for that long at the least.” Then she disappeared beyond their sight.
Kegan waited until they couldn’t hear her steps anymore before he finally looked down and spoke. “How are you holding up, Grandma?”
But Iris was still focused on the closed doors. They were sealed tight, blocking out the light and casting the interior of the foyer in darkness. She looked to the closed drapes and curtains that covered the windows. It was daylight outside, yet it felt like night in here. It was always dark in here, and she had been the one to close the blinds.
“Grandma?” Kegan asked.
“I need to lie down.” Iris exhaled and cradled her head as Kegan gently took her arm and helped her up to the room.
Whatever had been draining her energy had ratcheted up its efforts. Life was slipping away, sifting between Iris’s fingers. It was moving quicker now, pricked by an integral vein that fed her life. And now that same vessel was killing her.
“Grandma?”
Iris was dizzy and she shuffled toward the bed before she fell over. She didn’t bother pulling back the sheets, she just lay down on top of the white comforter and slowly rested her head on a pile of pillows that kept her propped up.
“What can I do?” Kegan’s voice trembled, but when he gripped her hand, she felt strength.
“I thought I could change it,” Iris said, opening her eyes and staring at a patch of the ceiling where she spotted the beginning of a water stain. One of the pipes had most likely burst, or at the very least was cracked. It wouldn’t be long before the plaster and wood finally rotted and water broke through. “Holes in the boat. It’s starting to leak.” She frowned, remembering a time from her youth out west when she was out on a friend’s boat on her father’s lake. “My mother was furious because I ruined my new dress.” She laughed.
“Grandma, listen to me,” Kegan said and then pulled her face toward his own. “I’m going to call a doctor, okay? You’re not well.”
Iris placed her weathered palm against Kegan’s cheek and then finally mustered a smile. “I’m fine.” Though her voice was riddled with weakness, and she had to drop her hand after only being able to hold it up for a few seconds. She drew in a ragged breath. “I don’t need a doctor.”
Kegan stared at her, confused, and then turned sharply, but Iris snatched his wrist, the speed in which she grabbed him surprising to both of them. Iris zeroed in on that one quick moment of clarity and strength.
“I might not last much longer,” Iris said. “And that means you have to fix my mistake.”
Kegan gingerly took a seat on the edge of the bed, holding his grandmother’s hand. “What are you talking about? If you’re sick, then I can get help.”
“It’s too late for me, but it’s not too late for you.” Iris kept her voice at a whisper. “You can do what I didn’t have the strength to do.”
Kegan shook his head. “Grandma, you don’t know what you’re—”
Iris squeezed his arm tighter, and pulled him closer. “Listen to me. The girl will come back. And when she does, you need to help her, do you understand? Help her.”
“Sarah? Why would she come back? How am I supposed to help her?”
Doubt seeped into her thoughts. “You will know when the time comes.” She closed her eyes, and sleep started to take hold. She hadn’t felt tired like this in a long time. It was a good tired, an aching tired, and she didn’t want it to go to waste. She had a feeling that this would be her last sleep, and she wanted to make it to be a restful one.
83
Before heading back to Bell, Sarah had decided to make a pit stop. If she was in Redford to collect information, then there was one spot heading out of town that she might be able to gain some additional insight into the house and the family trying to bring about the end of the world.
And it would
