Michael Koryta - Last Words

“Then why would she want you to stop looking?”

“She wouldn’t.”

“No, she wouldn’t. She would want you to continue, yes?”

“Yes.”

“You’re certain of this?”

“I’m certain.”

“Good. Very good. You know this to be true, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And since you know it to be true, then what does she want you to stop?”

“I don’t know.”

“Look around you. Tell me what you see.”

“Nothing! Nothing, nothing. It’s all dark, I can’t see.” His voice had gone high, had an edge of hysteria that raised the hair on Mark’s arms.

“Tell me about the place. Use all of your senses. Tell me what you can feel.”

“Stone and... and dampness.”

“You’re in the water?”

“No.”

“What’s the dampness, then? Are the stones wet?”

Ridley’s body shuddered again, but he didn’t speak.

“What do you smell?” Julianne Grossman asked.

“Blood.” This answer came without pause, none of the previous hesitancy or sense of effort, just a simple, matter-of-fact statement. Mark’s mouth had gone dry and though he wanted to see Julianne Grossman’s expression he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the image of Ridley on the screen.

“You smell blood. Yes. Good. Your memories are strong, aren’t they? Because the senses hold memories, and you are using your senses. They hold more memories, don’t they?”

“Yes.”

“Smell the blood, then. Use your senses to find the source. Are you bleeding?”

“I don’t think so.”

“So where is the blood coming from?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is the dampness that you feel water, or is it blood?”

“I don’t know.” His voice was still high, and now it had an angry quality, as if the questions were frustrating him.

“Can you still hear her voice?”

“No.”

“But she was speaking. Now she is not. Why did she stop speaking?”

Ridley’s voice dipped again, soft and low. “She’s too cold,” he said.

“She told you that she’s too cold?”

“No. I can feel it.”

“How can you feel her sense of the cold? How is that possible?”

“Because I’m touching her. And she’s too cold. She can’t speak anymore. She won’t speak anymore.”

“Where is she?”

“In my arms.”

“When did this happen? When did you reach her?”

“I don’t know. Time is... confusing.”

“Did you hurt her?”

On the screen, Ridley Barnes began to shiver. A single tear leaked down his cheek and into his beard.

“Did you hurt her?” Julianne Grossman repeated.

“Maybe.” His voice was childlike.

“You need to tell yourself the truth. You need to be honest with yourself. Did you hurt her?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is the blood hers, Ridley?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Why are you touching her?”

“I’m moving her.” Each word sounded weighted with guilt.

“Why?”

“Because she shouldn’t be there anymore. Because they’re all waiting for her.”

“How long have you been with her?”

“Too long. Too long in the dark. She’s too cold, and we’ve been too long in the dark.”

“Is she alive, Ridley?”

“No. No, I don’t think she is.” More tears now, and the shivering was relentless. The neck pillow slipped loose and fell to the floor.

“Was she alive when you found her?”

“I think so.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Because she talked.”

“What did she say?”

“‘Please, stop.’”

“What did she want you to stop?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you stop?”

“I don’t know.” He was shaking, and his hands were opening and closing. “I don’t know, I don’t know.”

“Why did you go into the cave, Ridley?”

“To rescue her.”

“Did you do that?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Bad things happened. Things I didn’t mean to do.”

“What didn’t you mean to do?”

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I didn’t.”

“Of course you didn’t want to. But did you hurt someone?”

“Yes. I didn’t want to, but I did.”

“Did you kill?”

“Yes.”

“Did you kill Sarah Martin, Ridley?”

“I think so.”

This proclamation, loud and shrill, put the first dent in Julianne Grossman’s steady, unflappable voice. There was a silence, and when she spoke again it was clear that she was searching for the right words and tone, that the questioning was no longer as natural.

“Tell me how that happened.”

“She was his responsibility. They’ll all blame me but she belonged to him first.”

“What do you mean, belonged?”

“If it’s my fault, then it was his first.”

“Who are you referring to? Whose fault was it?”

“The dark man’s,” Ridley said simply.

“Who is the dark man?”

“I don’t know. How would I know?” He was getting edgy again, and his fingers were in motion, tapping on his legs like a nervous piano student fumbling through a bad recital.

“Did the dark man come into the cave with you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then when did he join you?”

“He was always in the cave.”

“That can’t be true, can it?”

“Yes. Trapdoor sends him. He is the cave. He is the cave.”

“Think about this. How can it be true?”

“It’s true. It is true. ”

Julianne was pushing too hard now, and Ridley was resisting. For the first time, a clear break had appeared, and even in his trance state, Ridley was beginning to view her as an interrogator and not a guide. She seemed to realize it because she changed tacks, but it was too late.

“Focus on the things around you,” she said. “Don’t worry about how it all came to be. Return to your senses now. Only the senses. Just tell me what you see, what you feel, what you hear, what you smell.”

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” Ridley said. “I can’t be here anymore.”

“That’s all right. You’re fine, you’re safe.”

“No. Not here. In this place, no one is ever safe. Not ever.” The words had gone frantic.

“You’re safe,” Julianne said. “Can you say that? Say the words and know that they are true. Say the words.”

“I’m safe.” He sounded like a blubbering child being talked out of a crying fit, promised that his injury didn’t hurt as bad as he thought it did. His breathing had gotten so rapid that he was hyperventilating. It was as if Ridley’s mind had blown a fuse, and whatever protection the hypnotized state had once offered him was now gone.

“I want to leave. Please. I want out of the dark. Please.” Each word left him with a gasp.

“Then we’ll leave it behind. We’re going to count our way back now, all right? We’re going to start at one, and when we reach ten, you’ll be back where you are safe. You will feel better, because you’ve asked yourself the right questions, and you know that you need to ask those questions. When we reach ten, you will feel safe, and you will feel peaceful. You will feel these things because you deserve them, don’t you? Yes. You deserve to feel safe and peaceful. You deserve that. One... You know that you deserve peace. Two... And when you return you will feel good, you will feel alert and strong and clean, you will feel so much better than before. Three... You know that you deserve safety. Four... five... six.” As she counted up, her voice rose in volume just a touch, a slow but steady increase, and even from just the recording Mark could feel a shift in his own energy. “You have done all of the right things, and you have asked the right questions, and you will feel better now than before, you will be a new and better version of yourself, because you have sought these things. You will feel the peace that comes with doing the right things... seven... eight... Let yourself feel warmth again. Feel warmth and see light. Everything will be brighter now. Everything will be safe. Nine... feeling the warmth... feeling so good and so peaceful... and ten.”