Sierra Woods - The Resurrectionist

“Where’s my baby?” Juanita screeched and raced at Filberto with a knife in her hand. Before I could think of moving, she reached out and struck Filberto across the face, blood spattering from the wound. “Where’s my son?”

Sam and two others tackled Juanita and divested her of the weapon. I grabbed a fistful of Filberto’s hair and held his face up as anger, hot and bright, coursed through me. “You look at these people, at that boy’s mother, and tell us what you did.”

“I killed him.” He squinted through eyes already narrowed to slits by the beating he’d taken. I wanted to reach into his head and pull his brain out through his nostrils. “I didn’t mean to, but I had to.”

“What do you mean, you had to kill him?” I asked, really not wanting to know the answer to that, but pretty certain I was going to be sick once I heard it. A quick image of The Dark flashed in my mind. Could this be the influence Burton had talked of? Could The Dark have made Filberto act when he wouldn’t have otherwise?

“He would have told. He would have told!” Filberto breathed through his mouth, as his nose was most certainly broken, if the swelling was any indication.

“Did you hurt him?” I knew he had, but I wanted him to tell the family.

Sobs made Filberto’s head wobble, and he cried, feeling sorry for himself. Not what I wanted to see, but confession was supposedly good for the soul. I’d just rather hear the story than have all the blubbering along with it. “I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Did you touch Roberto in a way you weren’t supposed to?”

“Y-e-s.”

Anguish as you’ve never heard ripped the night to shreds. Sam and I looked at each other as we were shoved out of the way. There was no reasoning with an angry mob, and certainly no reasoning with a family who was rightfully justified in tearing apart one of their own.

“We have to stop this.” I held on to Sam’s shirt. He tried to put me behind him, to protect me. He’s such a guy. But I hardly needed protecting. After dying once, I learned what to really fear, and these people weren’t it.

We shoved into the group. We needed to get to the middle of this, where the action was, and prevent them from killing him.

Dropping onto my knees, I was able to crawl through and around the others. Not as dignified as I would have liked, but I got through and pulled my weapon. “Stop it.” Sam joined me, on his feet, and drew his gun, too.

“We need him alive,” Sam said.

“He doesn’t deserve to live! He killed my baby.” Juanita dissolved into a puddle on the ground. The women surrounded her and held on to her. The atmosphere in the yard was changing, becoming darker and malignant. A dark cloud or mist appeared overhead, but failed to manifest into anything I recognized.

Julio’s fists were a mess of blood and raw flesh. He breathed heavily as the murderous light finally left his eyes.

“Julio, see to your wife,” Sam said and motioned him back with the gun.

“I will see this done now. I don’t care if I have to die for it. He’ll pay for what he’s done to my son!”

“We need him alive if there’s any chance to bring Roberto back.” I didn’t tell them I wasn’t sure I had the skills to do it, whether it could even be done, depending on the amount of decomposition that had begun, let alone animal involvement. Ew. “If you kill him now, there’s no chance, and you’ll die, too.” I reached out to Julio and touched his shoulder. I tried to resist the vibrations coming off him. I was contaminated already by Filberto, so what was a little more? “Do you want that? Your family needs you now.”

He collapsed beside his wife, and they wept together and clung to each other. I was unable to offer any solace.

Reaching out to Sam with my hand, I nearly fell face-first into him. He would have liked that too much, so I settled for dropping to my knees from fatigue.

After things settled down and a small plan for recovery took shape, Sam led me to his truck parked down the street. I got in and let him drive to the nearest diner we could find. “That was damned stupid.” Anger crackled off him, nearly lighting the night around him.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, but I didn’t need to be reminded. I survived, and no one died in the process. Bonus. “I got the information I needed.” Filberto had taken a beating, but he deserved it. Almost instant karma.

“At what cost?” he asked. “I’ve never seen you so wasted, Dani, not even after a tough life-swap.” Sam was never outright angry; he’s too controlled for that. What he does is simmer. It’s not brooding, because that’s too much like a pout for a man. But he simmers, and stews, and makes me wonder what’s going on in that mind of his. I might have to do a mind-meld someday, but not now.

Right now, I didn’t care. I needed flesh and lots of it. For whatever reason, it’s what I need to keep going. I don’t need just blood, though I do like my steaks rare. It’s not just protein, either. I tried plenty of whey protein shakes and granola bars at the beginning, and they didn’t do squat. I now despise granola. But something in a good, bloody steak does it for me. Who am I to question it? Maybe it’s in the chewing and grinding of the food in my mouth that makes it work, or part of the digestive process. Do you know what’s going on in your stomach when you’re not looking? I don’t know and don’t care, as long as it fills up whatever is depleted.

We inhaled the meal and headed out the door. This was a fuel stop for me. I was so depleted of energy, I’d have chewed my own leg off soon. We had to get to the lava fields near Grants. About an hour away, depending on who was driving. I could make it in forty-five. We had to try to recover the body tonight. Preventing further decay was essential to a successful resurrection, but as always to fully restore the body would require some sort of blood sacrifice, and there was no way to know how much blood the ritual would require.

I didn’t know if I had enough. I was exhausted enough already. However, Sam had volunteered for this duty. I didn’t want it to be his sacrifice either. Perhaps our combined forces would be enough to get the job done. There was something special about Sam that helped make the resurrections successful.

The unmistakable sound of a skateboard approaching made me step back into the doorway, into Sam, and his hands were on my hips to steady me. What I wouldn’t give to be able to really reach out to him, but I couldn’t. Touch, skin to skin, made me feel things I wasn’t prepared for, so I hung on to the wooden doorway and gasped for air.

“Hey, you okay, chica?” Burton asked and flipped his board to a stop beside us. My little mentor. At first I was always surprised to see him, but then I figured he knew things I didn’t and let it slide.

“Yeah. I’m good.”

“Don’t you listen to anything I tell you?”

“Huh?”

“I just told you not to take any extra chances. Maybe your brain is going bad or something.”

“Hardly. But I couldn’t not take this case, you know that.” Or at least he should. “Go away. I’m fine.”

“Cool. But heed the warning.” He tossed the skateboard onto the sidewalk and leaped onto it, disappearing into the shadows as only he could.

“That kid drives me crazy. How did he know you were here? We didn’t even know we were coming here.” Sam stepped up beside me to watch Burton zip away.

“I don’t know. I think he has some sort of radar.” Yeah, four-thousand-year-old radar.

“Has he been following you?”

“What, like you did?” Bingo.

Sam didn’t answer, but just stared down at me with a perturbed glint in his eyes. As a rule, I do not enjoy being looked down upon, but with Sam, I make the exception. When he looks down at me, I almost feel petite and feminine. I need to avoid that feeling. I’m not petite or particularly feminine. I’m strong and in charge of myself. Softer feelings aren’t in my job description and could get me killed again if I allow them.