The Descent

Ali  accepted  that  at  the  level  of  denial.  If  Molly  was  hiding  from  her  lover's  secret identity, then it seemed  to  be  part  of  Ali's  task  as  confessor,  in  this  case,  to  ferret  out the  incubus.  'You  know,  that's  impossible,'  she  said.  'There  are  no  strangers  in  this group. Not after  four months.'

'I know. That's  what I'm saying.' She was, Ali saw, horrified.

'Describe  him  to  me,'  Ali  said.  'Before  your  light.'  Together  they  would  build  the character. And then turn on the light.

'He  smelled...  different.  His  skin.  When  he  was  in  my  mouth.  He  tasted  different. You  know  how  a  man  has  this  taste?  White  or  black  or  brown,  it  doesn't  matter.  His juices. His tongue. The  breath  from his lungs. They  have  this... flavor.'

Ali listened. Clinically.

'He didn't. My  midnight man. It  wasn't like he was a blank. But it  was  different.  Like he had more earth  in his blood. Darkness. I don't know.'

That  didn't help much. 'What about his body?  Was there  anything that  distinguished him? Body hair? The  size of his muscles?'

'While  I  had  him  between  my  legs?'  Molly  said.  'Yeah.  I  could  feel  his  scars.  He's been through the wringer. Old wounds.  Broken  bones.  And  someone  had  cut  patterns into his back and arms.'

There  was  only  one  among  them  like  Molly  had  just  described.  It  occurred  to  Ali that Molly might be trying  to hide his identity from her. 'And  when  you  turned  on  the light –'

'My  first  thought  was  a  wild  animal.  He  had  stripes  and  spots.  And  pictures  and lettering.'

'Tattoos,' Ali said. Why prolong it? But this was Molly's confession.

Molly  nodded  yes.  'It  all  happened  in  an  instant.  He  knocked  the  light  from  my hand. Then he disappeared.'

'He was afraid of your  light?'

'That's what I thought. Later  I remembered  something. In that first  second,  I  said  a name out loud. Now I think it was the name that made him run. But he wasn't afraid.'

'What name, Molly?'

'I was wrong, Ali. It  was the wrong name. They  just looked alike.'

'Ike,' stated  Ali. 'You said his name because it was him.'

'No.' Molly paused.

'Of course it was.'

'It wasn't. But I wish to God it had been. Don't you see?'

'No. You thought it was him. You wanted it to be him.'

'Yes,' Molly whispered. 'Because what if it wasn't?' Ali hesitated.

'That's what I'm saying,' Molly groaned. 'What  I  had  between  my  legs...'  She  winced at the memory.  'Someone's out there.'

Ali lifted her head back suddenly. 'A hadal! But why  didn't you tell us before now?' Molly  smiled.  'So  you  could  tell  Ike?'  she  said.  'And  then   he  would  have   gone hunting.'

'But look,' said Ali. She swept  her hand at the ruination. 'Look what he gave  to you.'

'You don't get it, kid.'

'Don't tell me. You fell in love.'

'Why  not?  You  have.'  Molly  closed  her  eyes.  'Anyway,  he's  gone.  Safe  from  us.  And now you can't tell anyone, can you, Sister?'

Ike  was there  for the end.

Molly  gasped   with  birdlike   breaths.   Grease   sweated   from  her   pores.   Ali   kept washing her body with water  scooped from the river.

'You should rest,' Ike  said. 'You've  done your  best.'

'I don't want to rest.'

He took the cup from her. 'Lie down,' he said. 'Sleep.'

When  she  woke  hours  later,  Molly  was  gone.  Ali  was  groggy  with  fatigue.  'Did  the docs come for her?' she asked hopefully.

'No.'

'What do you mean?'

'She's gone, Ali. I'm sorry.'

Ali got quiet. 'Where is she, Ike?  What have  you done?'

'I put her in the river.'

'Molly? You didn't.'

'I know what I'm doing.'

For  an  instant,  Ali  suffered  a  dreadful  loneliness.  It  should  not  have  happened  this way.  Poor  Molly!  Doomed  to  drift  forever  in  this  world.  No  burial?  No  ceremony?  No chance for the rest  of us to say  farewell? 'Who gave  you that choice?'

'I was trying  to make things easier for you.'

'Tell me one thing,' she said coldly. 'Was Molly dead when you put her in?'

She  wanted  to  punish  him  for  his  strangeness,  and  the  question  genuinely  shook him. 'Murder?' he said. 'Is that what you think?'

Before  her  eyes,  Ike  seemed  to  fall  away  from  her.  A  look  crossed  his  face,  the horror of a freak  faced with his own mirror.

'I didn't mean that,' she said.

'You're tired,' he said. 'You've  had enough.'

He  got  into  his  kayak  and  took  the  paddle  and  pulled  at  the  river.  The  darkness covered  him. She wondered if this was how it felt to go mad.

'Please don't leave  me alone,' she murmured.

After  a  minute  she  felt  a  tug.  The  rope  came  taut.  The  raft  began  moving.  Ike  was towing her back to human society.

INCIDENT AT RED CLOUD

Nebraska

The  third time the witches started  fiddling with him, Evan didn't fight.