The Drowning Child

74

Ren ran into The Crow Bar, her sidearm raised. Shannon Fuller was standing with her back to her, in the middle of the floor, her arm outstretched, holding a handgun, swaying back and forth.

Oh my God. What have you done?

Caleb Veir was lying at Shannon’s feet, in a growing pool of blood from a gunshot wound to the chest.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Shannon turned to Ren, wild-eyed, pointed the gun her way. ‘Don’t go near him. Stay the fuck away from him.’

Caleb was still breathing, making terrible gurgling sounds.

‘Give me the gun, Shannon.’

Shannon didn’t move.

‘Give me the gun,’ said Ren. ‘Don’t make this any worse.’

Shannon handed it to her, fear flickering in her eyes.

‘Stay back,’ said Ren. ‘Please let me help him.’

She checked Caleb’s pulse.

Thank God, thank God, thank God.

‘No!’ said Shannon. ‘No!’ Her arm shot out, and she grabbed a fistful of Ren’s hair, started to drag her backward.

Owww! Fuuuck!

Ren reached up, grabbed Shannon’s wrist, dug her thumb into the right pressure point, got her to release her grip. She kicked out, striking Shannon’s knee, bringing her to the ground with a scream.

‘Sorry,’ said Ren, ‘but you have to stay back. You don’t want him to die, Shannon. You do not want this.’ She returned to Caleb’s side, started to do chest compressions.

‘Is John here?’ said Ren.

‘Yes,’ said Shannon. ‘I locked him in the cold room. I can’t stand the sight of him. I wanted him to see Caleb die, I did, I really did. What is wrong with me? I loved that man so much... I loved him.’ She was sobbing uncontrollably, pointing at Caleb. ‘He killed Aaron,’ she was saying. ‘And he killed Luke Monroe, told him to come look at the fishes in the pond, then held his little head under. He just told us all this terrible stuff.’

Oh, God.

‘He’s a psychopath!’ said Shannon. ‘He doesn’t deserve to be saved! He’s a monster, he’s a monster.’

Ren turned to her. ‘Listen to me, Shannon. Listen. You need him to live. You do. OK? You need him to make it.’

‘I don’t want him to!’ screamed Shannon. ‘I want him to die.’

‘You do not want to go to prison for the rest of your life,’ said Ren. ‘That’s what will happen if he dies. You need to be there for Seth. He needs you.’

‘I don’t care if I go to prison!’ said Shannon. ‘Don’t you get it? And who gives a crap about me?’

‘Seth does,’ said Ren. ‘You’re more than his aunt – you’re a mother to him. And you know it. I care about you. I want you to make it, Shannon. You have to make it. You deserve to. You’re a good person.’

Ren looked down at Caleb, at his pale face, his grim, downturned mouth.

Her heart plunged.

Duke Rawlins: the destruction he wrought. He took my friends, he took my boyfriend.

He was a monster. And he started out as a boy monster.

What if he hadn’t made it? How many horrible deaths would have been avoided? How many lives would have been saved?

My arms... won’t move.

She thought of Luke Monroe and his curly blond hair, how his curiosity was leveraged, how he was lured to look at fishes in a pond.

The innocence.

My arms... what is going on?

She glanced up at Shannon. They locked eyes.

No one would know. If I just stopped trying to save this boy right now, no one would know.

Ren looked down at Caleb. His eyes began to flicker. She looked back up at Shannon.

Shannon wouldn’t tell. She’d back me up. I’d back her up.

Desperate, animal choking sounds were coming from Caleb’s throat. Ren looked down at him.

He’s a monster.

He is twelve years old.

He’s a psychopath.

Ren’s arms were stiff, unmoving.

He is so fucking damaged.

But someone damaged him.

Her arms started to work, she started to push down, her movements rhythmic.

Irreparably, though.

Irreparably damaged him.

Ren stopped again. Duke Rawlins’ face bloomed in her mind, how he lay dying in the foyer of Safe Streets, how she dragged Joe Lucchesi off him.

Her arms wouldn’t move.

Move!

A banging sound came from behind the bar, from inside the house.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

Her heart plunged.

Duke Rawlins killed Ben.

Move!

Duke Rawlins was a psychopath.

Move your fucking arms!

Who will Caleb Veir go on to kill?

Ren looked down at him.

Who will you kill next?

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

‘What is that fucking noise?’ roared Ren. ‘Shut it up! Shut it the fuck up!’ I’m going to lose my fucking mind.

The door to the bar burst open and suddenly the room filled: Gary, Paul, Sylvie, Ruddock, Wiley. Ren looked up, her arms working furiously.

God bless you all. God bless teamwork.

She fell away from Caleb, and Paul took over.

Ren was covered in blood. She looked down at her hands, red and trembling. She looked up at Shannon Fuller, and watched her collapse to her knees. Ren crawled over to her and took her in her arms.

‘You made it, Shannon, OK? You made it, and Seth made it.’

And Caleb did.

Shannon was sobbing hysterically.

‘You will get through this,’ said Ren. ‘I promise you.’

I can promise that... can’t I?