Dennis Yates - Minus Tide

“I’m sorry Ann. I really am. But there comes a time when you have to accept things you don’t like. That’s life. I’m trying to move on and you need to start too.”

“Something bad happened to her. I know it. She’d never want to leave me.”

“Of course she didn’t want to leave you. But she did. And her leaving had nothing to do with you so stop torturing yourself.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“What? Are you calling your stepdad a liar?’

“You say whatever you think you need to in order to get your way. Mom told me that once.”

“News flash. We all do that, Ann. I don’t know who doesn’t. But I’ll tell you one thing-and I’m not just spreading icing over bullshit either. Sure, your mom and I had our problems. But I wasn’t the one who just up and left.”

“She was scared of you.”

“No she wasn’t. She was scared she was going to wind up dying in Traitor of old age. That’s what happens to women when they get big ideas in their heads. I hope that someday you’ll understand. And maybe you’ll also learn to listen to people before you start accusing them of things.”

“You hurt her. She tried to hide it from me but I saw it.”

“Look. I did not hurt her. Your mother was in another one of her moods. We’d had an argument and she went on one of her crazy cleaning sprees. She was scrubbing the kitchen when I came in to tell her to stop and she stood up too fast and caught her cheek on a cupboard door she’d forgotten to close.”

“I don’t believe you. I hate you, Duane.”

“I understand, Ann. When people go through bad shit they say a lot of things they don’t mean.”

And Duane was right. He was the closest thing to a father I ever had. When things were good they were really good. Like the time he took us to Seattle and we went to the Space Needle. We were all afraid of the glass elevator and had held hands like a family…

Everything went dark.

Am I blacking out for real this time?

She could still feel her heart thumping in her throat. The ocean hadn’t stopped roaring and her leg felt like a bloody stump, but she knew that by all logically sane accounts it was not.

Check the light.

She knocked the flashlight against her palm. It flickered and went out, then sparked again before finding a steady but yellowish beam that gradually died.

And then she heard the dogs again. Close.

Until her eyes adjusted, Ann saw nothing but shadow layered over shadow. She stared west, beyond a clearing in the trees. If she concentrated she could see the ocean as a dark band, and above it a faded red thread of sunset.

You can’t out run them. You’re not even halfway down this mountain yet. You’ll break your neck if you’re not careful.

As the dogs howling got louder she stepped off the trail and began pulling herself blindly through the wet undergrowth. She came to a tunnel of salal and passed through it onto a worn deer path of hardened clay that followed a narrow ridge. On either side sharp cliffs plunged down to roaring surf. When she reached the end of the path she recognized an old fire ring and lichen-spotted boulders where she and James would sometimes sit up all night and talk until dawn. If the sky remained clear you could see the faint yellow glow of towns up and down the coast.

How long had it been since she’d come here? After she and James returned from Portland, they’d never made it back. They’d try to make plans but something else would always come up and they continued to put it off until one day it became a kind of cynical joke between them, a sign that their relationship had been forever changed.

Shadows shot from the entrance of the salal tunnel and coalesced in front of her. The dog’s barking deafened her. Cyclops emerged from the tunnel last and unfolded into an impossibly tall and horrifying figure. As he advanced toward her, the dog-shadow spread apart like a pool of crude oil. His gutting knife glowed as if harvest moonlight were striking it.

“I’m running out of time. It’s going to be daylight in a few hours and I’ve got a train to catch… How’s the leg by the way?”

“Go to hell.”

Cyclops laughed. “You’re kind of late to be saying that little girl …”

“What do you want from me?”

“I think it’s pretty clear … And if you think about it you’ve only got two options: The other side of that cliff behind you, or me. But it’s really just an illusion, don’t you think? Ann dead and Ann dead…”

Ann pounded the head of the flashlight against the side of her good leg. It burst on long enough to see that Cyclops was naked down to his waist. His chest was covered by tattoos and wormy white scars. She noticed his arm was bleeding where she’d shot him but it looked like she’d only grazed him and the blood was drying.

The light in her hands died and everything fell back into shadow.

“Why am I hearing dogs but not seeing any?”

“Because they’re ghosts, Ann. My ghosts. People I killed for business and people I killed because they looked tasty to them I guess.”

“I still don’t understand why you want me.”

“I’m just trying to survive the only way I know how.”

“By killing people.”

“It’s not something I enjoy.”

“Yeah. It shows.”

“You don’t understand. I have no choice anymore.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. I admit that I have killed a lot of people. And they’re angry at me at first. But then most start to accept what’s happened to them and they leave me alone. It wasn’t until I took down the really bad ones that things started happening. Murderers worse than me-rich men who paid big money to satisfy their bloodlust and ruthless drug lords. These dogs-these bad ones got together and decided what the hell, if they could use me as their instrument then they might as well start having fun.”

Ann tried to knock the flashlight back to life again but it refused to come on. She tossed it into the brush and gripped the.38 in both hands. Y ou’ve only got one chance to get this right. One bullet and that’s it. So piss him off and get him in close.

“Sounds like some more of your hobo-psycho bullshit to me.”

“Bullshit?”

“You heard me.”

“I could have left you on that rock to die, Ann. It would have been so easy.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

Cyclops edged forward and so did the pool of shadow.

“Because the dogs weren’t interested. They needed to see your fear and you were only semi-conscious.”

“Drop the knife.”

“Come on Ann…”

“For your information I’m pointing a gun at that big greasy head of yours.”

“You and I can keep debating the truth for a while longer. But why must you insult me?”

“Because you smell bad… Like a vulture just pissed on you.”

“I know what you’re doing, Ann. And it won’t work.”

“Why do you have to do this?”

“I loved your mother. If you must know, this is all her fault.”

“Drop the knife. Now .”

“You must understand. I had to do it. I never planned to let her live the day she left with me to California.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Other than giving her mother the best few days possible of her life? You drowned her in the motel pool before you left town. But then you began to feel guilty about it. You kept seeing those eyes staring at you, so you invented the story of her drifting out at sea and losing them…adding yet another layer of self delusion that you just kept telling yourself over and over with the hope it would one day make it true.