October skies

He took one small, uncertain step forward. ‘Emily.’ His young voice cracked with emotion; not the evil hiss of some demon, but the voice of a troubled young man. The side of his face that Ben could see was pulled into the tight grimace of someone fighting to hold back a flow of emotion.

Emily suddenly shook uncontrollably. ‘Oh no! I… I remember! ’

‘I killed him, Em,’ he admitted, his voice choked with a sob. ‘I killed Saul. I had to… he would have killed you… he would have killed me. I… I had to, Em.’

‘You… cut,’ she whispered, her eyes wide, replaying that day once more, ‘y-you… cut… and cut… and cut… and cut

…’

A tear rolled down Sam’s cheek. ‘H-he deserved it. Saul and Eric-’

‘You d-did those… th-things… those… things to Mr Vander?’ she gasped.

He nodded. Ben thought he saw the slightest hint of revulsion and regret in his face. ‘Yes, I did,’ he uttered. ‘And Preston too.’

‘Oh, Sam,’ Emily whispered quietly.

‘I did it for you, Em. For me, too.’ He took a step forward and she whimpered in fear, recoiling from him.

‘It’s me,’ he pleaded tearfully, stretching out his hand to her. Her eyes were drawn to the serrated blades strapped to his hand, clogged with dry blood and shreds of tissue.

She screamed.

It was a brittle, high-pitched scream that tore to pieces the cushioned silence of the wood. Emily wrapped her arms around Ben, terrified of her brother. Sam’s face changed in that instant — the last sign of the boy replaced with the listless, bland face of a killer.

‘Emily!’ Ben looked down at her. ‘Run!’

She let go of his hand and took a dozen uncertain steps towards Broken Wing and Mrs Zimmerman.

‘RUN!’

She turned and fled towards them.

Ben faced Sam. ‘Sam?’

The face he could see behind the fractured bone was still and lifeless.

‘Not Sam, not any more,’ it whispered and advanced several steps towards Ben.

From behind him, Ben heard Broken Wing call out. ‘Lammbit! Come!’

Ben waved. ‘Go! Dammit! GO!’

The creature in front of him eyed the long-bladed knife Ben held in his hand, and smiled.

‘Sam,’ he said quietly, ‘let her go. Broken Wing will take her to the Shoshone; they’ll care for her there. She’ll be safe.’

It shook its head. ‘Not Sam. I am the angel,’ it added, one hand gently patting a canvas sack that hung from a belt. Ben heard the soft clink of bones as it swung gently.

‘In that bag, Sam? Is that something Preston had? Is it what was in his chest?’

The creature managed a smile. ‘I chose to leave him. I chose Sam.’

Ben could hear the crack of a branch echoing from the trees behind him. The others were getting away. The longer he could delay Sam here, the more chance they’d have.

‘You are Sam,’ he replied. ‘Take off the skull… take off the bones.’ He pointed to the canvas sack. ‘Undo that… let it go, Sam. These things are affecting your mind, making you something you’re not.’

It stood there in silence. The one eye Ben could see was no longer glancing distractedly over his shoulder at the others. They were out of view now.

‘I know you, Sam. Before the bad things happened, you and I… we were friends. And we can still be, if you take all these bones off and leave them behind you.’

The creature cocked its head curiously. ‘Sam is telling me he once liked you,’ the voice hissed. ‘Wanted to be like you.’

Ben glanced at the long, viciously jagged blades attached to the hand as the fingers flexed and the sharp serrated bones clinked together.

That’s going to cut me to bloody pieces.

‘Sam, listen to me,’ he uttered, his mouth dry. ‘Something very wrong has found its way inside you — inside your head. Something bad. But we can make it go away.’

‘Sam is not listening any more,’ it hissed. ‘He needs to rest.’

Ben looked at the eyes; one he could see clearly, the other twinkled through the skull’s dark orbital socket.

‘I can cut you up like I cut all the others.’ It took another step towards him.

‘Stay where you are!’

Its twinkling eye appraised him silently for a moment. ‘You seem like a good man.’

Ben left that unanswered, Keats’s blade held out in front of him, watching the creature ease forward another step. Only three yards separated them now.

‘Stay where you are.’

‘You seem like a good man, with love in your heart.’

‘And so are you, Sam.’

‘I told you, Sam is not here now.’

‘Let me talk to him again.’

‘No.’

‘Sam? Sam, talk to me.’

‘He is not here now.’ The creature took another step closer.

Ben backed up. ‘Sam! For God’s sake, wake up!’

The creature stopped, its head cocked slightly, listening for a moment.

‘Sam? Is that Sam talking to you?’

The angel ignored him, still listening.

‘Sam, are you there?’

The angel shook its head. ‘No, I am still here, but… Sam asked me to tell you something.’

‘What?’

It was fast. It crossed the ground between them with liquid grace — a blur of movement that left Ben’s sluggish reaction in its wake. The lunge was aimed high, across his chest and throat. Before he had a chance to understand what had happened, Ben was on his knees, looking down and watching ribbons of dark red sputter out onto the snow in front of him.