Blood Vines

CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

Wednesday, March 17

7:00 P.M.

“Alex? It’s time. You need to wake up.”

Groggy, Alex dragged herself from sleep. She blinked against the light streaming in from the hallway. “Rachel? What time is-”

“Seven. Have you been sleeping all day?”

She had, Alex realized, and sat up. She climbed out of bed, feeling wobbly-legged. She still wore the jeans and sweatshirt she had thrown on in the middle of the night.

“I took one of your pills,” she said, pushing the hair out of her eyes. “I figured I’d need some rest before tonight.”

“Good girl. Why don’t you get cleaned up and I’ll make us something to eat?” Rachel started off, then stopped and looked back. “Wear something warm. It’ll be cool in the cave.”

Twenty minutes later, Alex joined her in the kitchen. The other woman stood at the stove, making omelets. A bowl of strawberries and plate of croissants sat on the counter. Tonight, Rachel’s ever present bottle of wine was missing.

“It smells divine,” she said, slipping onto one of the counter stools.

“Thanks. I didn’t want to make anything too heavy, but figured you had to eat something.”

“If I wasn’t starving, I don’t think I could eat a thing. I’m too anxious.” Alex reached for a strawberry. “Any questions about me today?”

“At least a hundred.” Rachel met her gaze. “Sorry.”

What had she expected? She dropped the unfinished strawberry on the plate. “How bad did I look?”

“Let’s put it this way, you make for a good headline.”

Rachel eased one of the omelets onto a plate and slid it across the counter. “Please, don’t wait for me.”

Shaking off her unease, Alex dug in.

“Everything’s ready,” Rachel said, expertly flipping her eggs. “I’m due to do some barrel tastings, so if someone should happen to see us go into the cave tonight, they won’t think a thing about it.”

She checked her omelet, then slid it onto a plate. “Are you ready for this?”

Alex had to honestly admit that she was not. “But I’m doing it anyway. I’m not going to run away from the truth. I won’t be like my mother.”

They finished their meal in silence. Together, they straightened the kitchen, then donned jackets. Rachel handed her a flashlight and they stepped outside. The stars and moon, obscured by clouds, turned the night a deep black. Rachel led the way, moving slowly, deliberately toward the cave entrance.

Alex’s heartbeat quickened; fear turned the inside of her mouth to ash. As if she knew, Rachel caught her hand and laced their fingers together. The way they had when they were kids. And the way she had at five years old, Alex clung to it.

The cave was secured by both iron gates and a chain and padlock. Rachel unlocked both; they slipped through the gate and into the cave. Once inside, Rachel snapped on her flashlight; Alex followed suit. Training the beam dead ahead, they moved forward.

Alex caught Rachel’s hand, clinging to it. With each step deeper into the cave, Alex’s fear grew. The walls and ceiling closed in on her, the dark became heavier, more impenetrable. Her heart beat wildly, her every instinct screamed she should run. Her steps faltered. She couldn’t do this, she thought. She couldn’t.

Rachel tightened her fingers. “Stay with me, Alex. We’re almost there.”

“I don’t know if… I-” Her voice rose. “I don’t-”

Rachel cut her off. “Yes, you can. Do it for Dylan. Do it for Tim.”

And for her mother, Alex thought, marshaling her courage. No more running. No more searching for what was missing.

She would finally know.

They wound deeper. Every so often the lichen would catch on her hair or brush her face and she would squeak in terror. She squeezed Rachel’s hand so tightly, she knew it must hurt. She told herself to ease up, but found she couldn’t respond.

“Talk to me, Rachel. Please, just talk-Oh my God, it’s happening. I smell it! Sandalwood!”

“It’s okay.” Rachel said softly. “It’s real, I set the stage. We’re almost there.”

Alex stumbled; Rachel steadied her. The smell grew stronger. A thrumming filled her head, like a chant. She wanted to run, but was frozen in fear.

Rachel tugged on her hand. “C’mon, Alex, just a few more steps.”

Her words seemed to be coming from a great distance. Alex obeyed woodenly. They turned. In the distance she saw a circle of flickering light. With each step it grew bigger, more brilliant, its pull on her stronger.

“You’re five years old, Alex,” Rachel said softly. “You didn’t mean any harm… you just wanted to see what was happening…”

And then Alex realized: Rachel was a bigger part of the nightmare than she had let on. She looked at her. “I followed you, didn’t I? That night, I followed you into the cave.”

“Yes,” Rachel said softly.

Alex brought a hand to her mouth, not so much remembering as putting the pieces together. “You hated it when I followed you around. But I did it all the time. I adored you.”

Alex put herself back there, imagining that night. “I hear you sneak out and decide to follow.”

“You brought Dylan with you.”

“Yes. I would have known I couldn’t leave him alone.”

Alex pictured her five-year-old self standing on tiptoe, scooping Dylan up out of his crib. He would have been heavy for her. She imagined her determination. Her fear of dropping him.

“You went into the cave.”

“Yes,” Rachel agreed.

Alex looked ahead, at the flickering light pouring out of an alcove up ahead. From candles, she realized. “And I followed you even though I was terrified of the cave.”

Again, Rachel agreed.

“At some point I must have heard sounds. Like the ones from my visions. And seen the flickering lights.”

Alex wetted her lips, dry from breathing heavily through her mouth. She realized she held her arms as if cradling a baby. She moved forward, toward the lit opening, Rachel beside her.

She stepped into the room, her gaze going immediately to an opening in the cave wall. She crossed to it. “You were peeking through an opening. This opening.”

“You called my name,” Rachel said. “When I saw you, I was so angry. Because I was scared. I knew how much trouble I could be in. Then Dylan started to cry.”

Rachel reached out as if to take a baby from her arms. “I took him. To try to get him to stop. What did you do then, Alex?”

Alex shifted her gaze to the opening again. “I wanted to see what you were looking at.” She crossed to the opening. With her mind’s eye, she saw herself, drawn to the flickering light, like tentacles of fire reaching for her, pulling her in. She peered through the opening.

And the past hit her with the force of a wrecking ball, the memory of what she saw flooding back. Men in long, hooded robes. Women, too, but some naked… Dancing sensuously in the candlelight. Touching themselves. Being touched. The grunting, howling noises from her dreams. Not strange creatures-the sounds of wild sex.

Sex. Her mother, Alex remembered. Naked. Spread out on an altar, a man on top of her. Riding her.

Rachel came up behind her. “You started to scream. I put my hand over your mouth, like this.”

Rachel covered her mouth and jerked her away from the opening. “Go back to bed,” she hissed. “And if you tell anyone what you saw, I’ll hurt you. I promise I will. I’ll do to you what those men are doing to your mommy!”

Rachel released her and Alex stumbled backward, away from the opening. She sank to the cave floor, and brought her hands to her face, feeling ill. Candles, incense and an altar. All the trappings of a religious ritual. The orgy in progress. She wouldn’t have had any frame of reference for what she was witnessing. No place to put it. How frightened she must have been.

It explained so much about her. Her studies, relationships and periods of promiscuity. She had spent her life trying to make sense of it all.

“Alex,” Rachel said softly, kneeling in front of her. “Let’s finish this.”