Angie felt the steel muzzle against the top of her head.

  “C’mon, Angie. Get up. We’re going home.”

  ~~~

  The suburbs of Monahan were quiet at night. “To each his own” was the law of the urban sprawl. It was easy, as they walked across the street with knowledge of the hidden guns behind them, for Angie to feel surrounded and alone at the same time.

  Angie still hoped a neighbor would see them, as Cypher, O’Rourke, Kaya, and she walked their tiny death march to Colleen’s house. She looked back at Cypher, saw fire in his deep-set eyes, flecks of blood on his white-t-shirt, blue jeans, and boots.

  She looked ahead to O’Rourke, saw that he’d copped Cypher’s style and was sporting the same shaven-headed, Neo-Nazi asshole look. There was no place for either of them to hide their pistols, so they’d just let their arms hang straight to their sides, and walked with only their legs moving.

  Just out for a friendly stroll. Just another lovely evening in Monahan.

  She’d seen Curtis, or what was probably now just his body, sprawled in his living room. His neck was bent at a wrong angle and his head and the carpet surrounding it were soaked red. She’d lost her belly upon seeing him; she’d dropped to the floor like a dog and puked out the bourbon she’d stolen from Curtis. She felt instantly sober, but she didn’t know if it was the purging or the fear. Cool beads of sweat trickled across her flushed forehead. Cypher had been frustrated with her.

  “Get up. Get up now, you fucking whore.”

  Jealous. He sounded jealous, this same guy who had pimped her out for cheap thrills and raped her in the woods. He thought she was sick at the sight of Curtis, that she was overwrought and had dropped to the floor at the sight of another man’s fallen body.

  Was he right? She didn’t know. She didn’t hate Curtis. She didn’t know what she felt. Things were too fucked for her to have a straight-forward emotion.

  Angie saw Cypher’s old white Cadillac parked out front of Colleen’s. The trunk was open, but the guys marched her and Kaya right past the greasy old ride and up to the front door.

  Come home. You can end now.

  The voice never left her. It was just a matter of degrees.

  Even with the anger she felt now, being torn from the quiet death she sought and attacked by Cypher, watching her daughter shake with fear while some asshole had a gun pointed at her back, the voice was still digging away at her.

  It’s like fate. It’s like being able to hear fate.

  Angie watched her daughter’s small, shaking hand reach out and open the front door to Colleen’s house.

  She hasn’t even looked back at me. Even now, I’m nothing to her. She thinks Curtis was the only one who could protect her. She’s afraid and thinks she’s alone. Where’s her Uncle Curtis now?

  It was then that she felt the icy chill run through her belly and knew that her visions hadn’t ended. The fear, the knowledge that her daughter could soon die, opened her up and the voice was wrapped around her sight again.

  The world is wrong to you. All of you. You will end soon.

  The smell of old garbage, and hot, moist earth wafted up her nose from behind. She heard the shifting of plastic against old food, hollow cans clunking together. She knew that if she looked at Cypher just then, he would not be human. He would be a thing, human in shape, smelling of discarded fat, shambling on limbs made from plastic bags and twigs intertwined.

  O’Rourke had already followed Kaya into the house. Cypher was inches behind Angie and urging her forward with his left hand at her lower back.

  She couldn’t turn and look at him, through the rainbow-edged periphery of her sight, but she could hear his voice, a cold reptile tone, the sound of a falling stone.

  “Get in the living room, cunt. Don’t turn on any lights. Don’t fuck around. I’m having a hard time not shooting you on the spot, so don’t think you’ve got any sympathy cards to play.”

  “Okay, Cyph.”

  “Okay, Cyph. Okay, Cyph.” His voice was high and mocking. “Jesus! I seriously cannot stand the sound of your voice anymore. You sound so weak, Angie.”

  She felt weak. She felt afraid. She’d been fighting something she couldn’t beat for so long, she didn’t know if she could struggle anymore.

  I have to struggle. I have to fight. They’re going to kill us both. Maybe I can… what—what can I do?

  Her sense of helplessness fueled the voice. She could feel it swirling rapid in her blood.

  “Sit down. Now. Over by Kaya.”

  Kaya was already sitting on the old living room couch, her right hand on the armrest. There was a shell-shocked look in her eyes that said none of this was registering as real to her.

  Maybe this will just be a nightmare for her, a quick nightmare that she won’t wake up from…

  ALL REST QUIET NOW JUST END.

  The voice whipsawed through her skull again, hungry, angry, like it was losing something if Angie gave in this way. Angie hated it, and knew then that she would always hate it, that she could never really give herself to something that so badly wanted her to stop being.

  “SHUT UP!”

  Kaya seized the armrest tight at the sound of her mother’s cry. Even Cypher and O’Rourke were a little shaken by it, but then Cypher began to laugh.

  He raised his gun and pointed it at Angie before speaking.

  “Oh…oh, Jesus, Angie. Jesus, just sit down, there on the couch…”

  She sat to the left, and didn’t reach her hand out for Kaya. She was nothing to the girl. She’d lost that much, and tried to accept it, though it still hurt.

  Cypher was still laughing, a dry raspy laugh that was heavy with both contempt and amusement. His face looked bone-thin in the dark living room, his t-shirt and blue jeans appeared gray in the streetlight that filtered through Colleen’s drapes. “You’re still tripping, huh? I mean, I knew you were frying hard that night in the woods, you had to have been, after what you did to me with that lighter. After all the love I gave you. And then I find you, shacked up with some old dude with bad hair who thinks he can stop me from doing what I want.”

  Angie spoke without thinking. “I wasn’t shacked up with him. He was just some guy, some old pervert that we were staying with until I got my head on straight.”

  She didn’t know why she had said it, but she knew it didn’t feel true. And Kaya had reacted to the comment, shifting in her seat, putting her hands in her lap, and dropping her head. The movement must have spooked O’Rourke, because he too had his gun raised now, leveled at Kaya.

  Cypher turned to O’Rourke, his head snapping cobra-quick, his neck muscles ridged and shadowy in the thin living room light. Angie saw his jaw muscles were clenched tight before he spoke, and that he was grinding his teeth between words, as was O’Rourke.

  They’re tweeking. They’re amped and I can’t even get angry at the man pointing a gun at my daughter. I should be fighting. I should be standing between the gun and Kaya. This can’t be happening. Fight.

  WRONG WRONG WRONG QUIET ACCEPT SLOW FALL.

  “Hey, O’Rourke,” Cypher said, “drop your fucking gun and chill for a second. That bugged out little bitch isn’t going to do anything. She’s just like her mama bear. She’s a good little bitch. Isn’t that right, Kaya?”

  Kaya said nothing.

  O’Rourke looked anxious, ready to get down to business.

  God, what business do they have with us? Just murder? Something worse?

  Angie remembered the blood she’d seen on Cypher’s shell-toed sneakers months ago. She’d remembered his words, how he’d been looking for something, some sort of understanding. He understood murder, though. Of that much, she was sure. So how else could he learn from them?

  Pain thresholds? The taste of flesh? Secrets in our screams?

  Cypher didn’t seem to want those things, at least not right away. He’d set up this fucked up family meeting in the living room. If he wanted straight mayhem, he’d just do it.

  ALL QUIET UNDERNEATH HERE AND NOW BRING HER.

  Angie winced again, a puff of breath escaping her nose. She could feel Cypher’s attention snap in her direction.

  Still, the voice confused her.

  “Bring who?” she asked to the distance, the space between her head and the floor.

  “Holy shit, Angie! You have snapped. You have totally lost it. I figured, after what you pulled with Rusky, that maybe you had your shit together. Rusky said you robbed him with a fucking fork. I mean, Hey-soos Christo, Angie, that’s some weird shit. First you set my balls on fire, then you come after Rusky all primal. Anti-social shit, Angie.”

  Angie had to work as hard as she could to not look at the shape of the fork in her sweat-pants pocket when he mentioned it. It seemed dangerous to let him know she had anything, even that old fork. She hadn’t stopped carrying it since that day.

  “What are you getting at, Cyph?” O’Rourke sounded pissy, and had begun tapping his right toe.

  “Shut up, Rourky, I’m just talking with my old lady. Trying to figure out where she went. This bitch here…” He pointed at her with his pistol. “I’m not really sure who she is. She’s gone worse than anybody else who had that acid.”

  Angie lifted her head toward Cypher, suddenly very interested in what he had to say.

  “Oh, you don’t know, do you? Can you believe that Rourky? She doesn’t know about the bad fry. Classic. Well, while you were off in the woods and I was being carted to the hospital, a couple of other kids went loco off the acid that was out there that night. I saw the shit on the news later, while they pumped me full of morphine and debated about cutting my dick off. Third degree burns, Angie, that’s serious shit. And by the way…”

  He stepped forward and smacked her across the face with his pistol before she had a second to dodge the attack. Her left cheek tore wide, blood running hot over her face. She heard Kaya yelp, a momentary respite from her shocked stupor. Angie sat back up quickly, and pushed the sleeve of her sweat shirt to her cheek.

  “God that felt good. Anyway, Angie, two other kids out there couldn’t handle their doses that night. It’s probably some crooked Rainbow Fam shit. That hippy stuff always goes bad, man. The kids, this couple, they went back to their tent, and they must have been seeing some crazy shit, ‘cause they gouged each other’s eyes out. They said the guy’s left thumb actually broke into her skull and was up in her brain. They both died and the media played it up all tragic and graphic and shit to put the scare into the other youths out there who could be contemplating chasing the Big Never Never on some LSD.” Cypher laughed. Angie could tell he was high off the sound of his own voice.

  O’Rourke piped in, smiling. “The guy actually bit his own tongue off and choked on it.”

  “Yeah,” Cypher continued, “it was some ill shit. You got the same doses and tried to set me on fire. It takes some serious L to make people act like that, to free them from themselves that much. I didn’t know how good the shit was when I bought it. I thought it was just for kicks, you know, catch a little buzz then put you on the same train, see if we could work something out. But the doses were too much. That fry, Angie…”

  He paused, shaking his head in disbelief. She felt anger warming her body, making her more lucid. If Cypher hadn’t bought that acid and forced it on her... He’d left her defenseless to the voice, to herself.

  “That fry is so good, Angie. It’s a window, man, a window onto something. IT talks to you, you know, it shows you who you are, it just takes all that shit inside of your head and puts it right in front of your eyes and feeds it to you. It makes you understand. It helped me to understand why I’m here.”

  Angie took the bait, unable to avoid asking, too intrigued by the idea that anyone else might be having the same experiences she’d had.

  “Why are you here, Cypher?”

  He pulled a tiny bottle with an eye-dropper from the front, right pocket of his jeans. It was half full of clear fluid.

  “I’m here to help other people understand. To show them what they’re worth, what’s inside them, what they can become. O’Rourke’s been helping me too, spreading the message. He helped Rusky.”

  Angie remembered Rusky’s centipede, the fire that had been dropped into his eyes. She didn’t feel any closer to tears, but she felt something inside her breaking.

  “Rusky’s problem was that he was always bug-fucking-crazy, so the shit didn’t work too well. Rusky wasn’t a good boy. He wouldn’t cough up my cash. He helped your sorry ass out, after you attacked him. He was our first try, so we chalked it up to trial and error. I was pissed when Rusky held out, so I sent my buddy Pearson out to see him.

  “Pearson said Rusky had peeled half his upper thigh off, by hand, and was working his fingers around in the big muscle on top. P-dog just about lost his belly at the sight of it, man. Said Rusky was talking a bunch of crazy shit about bugs and secrets. P-dog also said that once he started hitting Rusky, the crazy fuck started crying and saying your name, saying that you knew the secrets of his heart, that you knew about his plan.

  “P-dog ended up feeding Rusky some pieces of broken glass, just to see if he could. Said the dude was so crazy that when he held the glass to his face, Rusky opened his mouth wide just like a little baby, and started chewing. He swallowed the glass ‘to wash the centipede out.’ That’s what he said. P-dog played a hunch and told him that you were the one that put the centipede inside him. Rusky started crying and mentioned that you might be headed home, crying that you lied to him, betrayed him.

  “I really feel bad for Pearson, man. He can’t get the sound of Rusky chewing that glass out of his head.”

  Angie hung her head now, silent, knowing that if she looked up at Cypher and O’Rourke’s faces, they would be covered in lizard scales and leaves. Cypher’s voice felt so close to the old whispers that filled her head. So wrong.

  Cypher stepped forward and tucked his free hand under her chin.

  “What do you say, babe? How about you and me, and our friend here, how about we all have a little understanding?”

  ~~~

  Angie allowed him to dose her without struggle. She hadn’t owned her mind for a long time anyway. He could pour the entire eye-dropper’s contents into her mouth, for all she cared. She’d already gone through the looking glass, why not dig a little deeper? She had a feeling Cypher’s understanding came at a mortal price, anyway.

  Maybe these doses will push me over an edge, take me to some place where I can fight and be strong again. Maybe I can still save Kaya.

  She pictured her skin spreading, a new all black form made of obsidian emerging from her tattered former self. She pictured the new version of herself tearing these sick men limb from limb, their blood sinking into her new body and making it glow.

  The hope kept crawling back in. She tried to ignore it. She tried to let go.

  Kaya had become alert, as Cypher and O’Rourke approached her. Her eyes went wide, and she curled up tight, as if she could ball up and be impervious. O’Rourke reached out to unlatch her hands from her legs. Kaya reacted quickly, swiping out with her fingers as if they were talons, opening the thin skin on the back of O’Rourke’s free hand.

  Angie heard O’Rourke’s gun cock and yelled, “No!”

  Cypher elbowed O’Rourke sharply and spat, “Simmer down, Rourky. We need to do this right. Hey, Angie, you want to help this little bitch understand she’s got no choice? ‘Cause O’Rourke would just as soon kill her. I know from past experience that he’s got a short temper with kids. He always drops the kids first.”

  Angie turned to Kaya, hoping her presence carried enough currency to keep her daughter alive, if only for moments.

  “Hey, Kaya? Kaya, baby, this is very serious. I know you’re scared, and I know these men hurt Curtis, but they don’t want to hurt you. They just need to give you some medicine.”

  Jesus, what am I? What am I doing?

  Maybe she’ll see something beautiful and then just die. Maybe the dose will be too much and she won’t have to deal with this anymore. Please, God, save us.

  “Kaya, please, for mommy.”

  Kaya’s eyes became alive again, her head whipped toward Angie. “You’re not my mother. Stay away from me!”

  O’Rourke’s patience broke. He grabbed Kaya’s face with his free hand and sunk his large fingers in behind her jawbone, using her pressure-points to force her mouth wide open.

  “That’s a good little birdy.”

  Cypher was quick with the eye-dropper. Angie watched two drops fall into her daughter’s mouth; she thought she saw them turn to black oil as they cleared her daughter’s lips. Then O’Rourke forced her mouth shut and held it for a moment.

  What have they done?

  O’Rourke let go of her and Kaya lashed out again. O’Rourke caught her hand and gave it a quick twist back toward her body. There was a sound, thin bones crunching. Then Kaya screamed, and the smell of fear on her breath floated into Angie’s nose.

  Angie was up off the couch, but just as quickly, Cypher had his gun leveled at her head. “Whoa there, mama bear. Sit your ass down.” Cypher turned his attention to O’Rourke.

  Angie was surprised to see Cypher pulling O’Rourke away, roughly.

  “Christ, Rourky, fucking chill. Not yet, man. Not yet. Let them peak. Let them understand. Then we’ll play.”

  O’Rourke chilled as instructed. Cypher was clearly the alpha-dog, and his bark wasn’t idle.

  What if O’Rourke just wants to kill us quick? What if he’s sick of Cypher, of the things they’ve been doing?

  Angie looked across the room at the retreating O’Rourke. He was smiling, watching Kaya writhe in pain. No, O’Rourke was into this as much as Cypher was. No hope there. No begging for mercy killing.