Cody McFadyen: Shadow Man

And now I hear the voice.

Mommy.

"All you have to do, Smoky-mine . . ." His head appears. He's grinning. "Is let me help you one last time."

Listen to me, Mommy. You can do it. It's okay. I am emptying out inside. Becoming still, still, still.

"Fuck you."

"I don't think so." He smiles even wider. "Make no mistake about it, Smoky. I'm going to give you ten seconds, and then I'm going to kill her. I'm going to take my knife and slice her pretty little throat wide open. The only chance she has is you taking your shot. Of course, you might miss and kill her, just as you did with Alexa. You might murder another child with your gun."

Blood drips from my face. Bonnie's eyes fill my mind. But it's Alexa who fills my soul.

Everything beautiful about her comes to me. All at once. Every mo ment of seeing her smile, holding her close, smelling her hair. Every tear I ever wiped away, every angel kiss she ever gave me. Memories of her have been coming back to me lately, it's true. But these are ten thousand times more vivid. Ten million times stronger. All gone, gone forever.

"Come on, Special Agent Barrett. I'm counting the seconds down now."

I am swimming in an ocean of tears, and it has no horizon. So, the question once again: Will my hand shake if I point the gun at myself? I could end it that way. Quick. Easy.

An end to the memories. I want that more than anything--to unknow my past.

"You were my Abberline, Smoky. You should be happy--you are the best of the best. No one has caught any of us, dating all the way back to my ancestor. I applaud your ploy with the flesh in the jar. An obvious lie, but I will admit--you made me angry. And catching Robert, well . . . he was sloppy, so I won't call it genius on your part. But you are gifted, Smoky-mine. So very gifted."

I can barely hear him. There is a roaring in my ears, threatening to drown out the world. It's me, pounding my fists against myself until they're bloody. Me, screaming forever. Me, howling and crusing and dying and--

Mommy!

The roaring stops.

Silence.

I see her out of the corner of my eye. But I cannot look at her. No. I'm too ashamed.

It's okay, Mommy. It's okay. You just need to remember the important thing. What? That I failed you? That I killed you? That I lived and you didn't? That--worst of all--life went on?

Shame fills me, roots its snout into every part of me. Burrows down into the depths of me.

This is pain, absolute and infinite.

Here we are, I think. Finality. The place where I lose for good. Fade to black.

I begin to pass out.

Before I can, Alexa smiles.

It is a blazing sun. A golden juggernaut of light. No, Mommy. Remember the love.

It's as if someone hit a pause button. All the pain, all the shame, stops. Suspends.

Now there is stillness.

A moment of time is passing, and I'm watching it go by. Lub, my heart begins to say, and then, a dub, it finishes, a single beat. Standing there, right in front of me, is Alexa. No longer blurred, a shadow, or a brief moment in a dream.

My beautiful Alexa, shimmering.

"Hi, Mommy," she says.

"Hi, baby," I whisper.

I know she is not really there. I also know she is as there as there can be.

"You have to choose, Mommy," she says, her voice soft. "Once and for all."

"What do you mean, sweetheart?"

She leans forward and grabs my hands in hers. Tenderness washes off her, rolls over me. So beautiful it makes me wince.

"To live, Mommy."

Truth, in my experience, arrives without fanfare, but it arrives in an instant and changes everything forever. Real truth is always simple. This truth is no different.

A choice between life or death is a choice between Alexa and Hillstead. Between Matt and Sands.

Alexa smiles, nods . . . and disappears.

And just like that, from one heartbeat to the next, I'm sane. With that truth, my madness leaves me.

Time begins again.

Hillstead is still jabbering away, but I can't hear what he's saying. I feel as though I am in a chamber of silence. A world where everything else moves at its regular rate but my own thoughts are dreamy, like doing tai chi at the bottom of a swimming pool. Bonnie's eyes have not left mine from the moment I entered the room. Full of terror, full of trust. I look at her now, now that I am sane. I really see her.

She's beautiful, Mommy.

"Yes, she is, honey," I murmur.

Hillstead's eyes narrow. This time I can hear him. "Who are you talking to, Smoky-mine? Losing it for good now? Better pull it together. Just three more seconds before little Bonnie starts smiling below the chin."

This shot I must make to save her, it will be difficult. Approximately one quarter of Hillstead's head is visible. The rest is hidden behind Bonnie. The calculations begin whirring away inside me, spinning slow at first, then picking up speed.

The dragon senses her time is coming and she purrs. The voice of Alexa comes to me again, fitting the rhythm of the whirring like wind fits a rainstorm. Don't worry, Mommy. Just feel it. It's in you, you just have to trust in it .

"I don't know, Alexa," I tell her. "Two inches, an inch and a half. I just don't know. I could kill her."

I feel her ghost arms wrap around my waist from behind. One hand reaches up to touch my heart. It's there, Mommy. You stopped trusting it, but she needs you now. And I don't mind that you need her. You asked me that in your dream, but you woke up before I could answer you. Love her, Mommy. I don't mind. Alexa's face appears in my mind; Matt's brown eyes, pixie smile, mailman's dimples. I'm not afraid to look at her now. The hands pull away and I feel her receding behind me. Before she goes, she whispers one final thing: Don't you understand, Mommy? You're not perfect. Do what you feel, and it'll be the best you can do. Your best is all you'll ever have to give. The dragon snarls, and the whirring becomes a scream, building in me like a hummingbird aflame, growing into a hawk, and then an eagle, and--

My hand stops shaking.

I raise the gun and pull the trigger without thinking about doing it. I don't hear the crack of the shot. It is all visual for me. I see Bonnie's face jerk back as Hillstead's head explodes and the knife falls from his hands, and I know that I have killed her with him. I feel a scream begin to build in me, my hands go to my head, but then Bonnie is moving toward me, hobbling with her bound feet. She turns her left cheek to me and I see Hillstead on the floor, a bullet hole through one eye, and I understand. I had made the shot. It was close, my bullet had grazed Bonnie's cheek, but it had found its mark. She was fine. He was dead. My hand is trembling as I holster my weapon. James and Alan come rushing up the stairs, followed by Tommy. Alan is weeping as he unties Elaina and gets a blanket around her, while James and Tommy ask me if I am hurt. I don't reply.

I look down at him, dead on the floor. The man who provided Sands with access to my home, who was ultimately responsible for the death of my family, the scars on my face. I think about the swath of destruction his actions left behind him. In the end, he proved his own point.

Death is always just a step away.

But then again, so is life, and all of its champions.

C ALLIE ASKED THATthree people be here for this. Me, Marilyn, and Elaina. Bonnie is here by default, which seems fine with Callie. Two days after Peter Hillstead died, Callie woke up. It's been another two days since that, and the doctor is preparing to test her feet for sensitivity. Callie is doing her best to cover it, but I can tell that she is terrified. She looks terrible. Pale, tired. But she is alive. Now we'll find out if she's going to walk again.