Chapter Forty-One: Thursday, January 5, 2006, New York (Below)
Darkness rolled on darkness…fire and water…black water…unspeakable, unnamable things slithered and churned beneath the black….
The darkness called her…
Down…
Down..
Down…
Pulled by the current and the churning swarm….
Caroline gasped for air, but only icy water filled her lungs, burning her…no air came, no breath…only water.
Only darkness.
…
Vincent was ripped from slumber by the darkness, the terror. He let out a snarl of warning—
"Vincent?"
Catherine.
Her hand on his arm.
His senses cleared. Their chamber. His bed.
"Mother! Father!" Beth and Janelle appeared in the doorway, frightened expressions on their faces. Lauren was with them. It wasn't unusual for her to sleep in their chamber when she stayed Below.
"Something's wrong with Caroline," Lauren said.
"I think…it's not a nightmare," Beth told him. "It's something…something else."
"Stay here," Vincent instructed the girls, even as he pulled on his robe.
"Vincent—" Catherine began, but he shook his head.
"She may lash out," Vincent told her. He left the three of them—and was surprised to find Kyle McCarty in the corridor.
"I…heard something," the bewildered young doctor told him. "Um…sorry if I—"
"Can you find your way to my father's chamber from here?"
Kyle nodded. "Yeah, I think so."
"Please wake him and tell him that Caroline needs him. Father will understand. He may need your help," Vincent added, grateful for the second time in as many days to have Amy's cousin there, right when they needed him, because while Father was an excellent doctor, he wasn't as young or as strong as he'd been when Vincent went through the darkness.
…..
Down…
Down…
Deeper and deeper into the abyss…
Always dark.
Always cold.
Caroline tore at the darkness, tried to claw it from her eyes—but something held her fast, would not let her go.
She screamed into the night—and saw the bullet hit Elliot's chest. She watched him fall, lifeless.
Dead.
All she could do was sob against the vice the held her in place.
…..
Vincent sat with his arms wrapped securely around his eldest daughter, trying to prevent her from injuring herself further. Jake stood near door, though whether he'd been woken by Caroline's thrashing or by some other force, Vincent couldn't be sure. He'd already sent Charles and Christopher to be with their mother and sisters. With Lauren.
How long would it be before Charles and Christopher went through this? Would their tribulation be as mild as Jake's or…?
Caroline bucked against his grip and snarled in her nightmare.
Jake flashed a look of concern.
All Vincent could do was cradle Caroline in his arms.
…..
The red of Elliot's blood covered Caroline's senses, blanketing her in hot crimson. The stench of it made her reel; it clogged her nose, her mouth…she couldn't breathe!
A thousand pounds of pressure pressed down upon her, the weight of a sea of red and no matter how hard she tried to rip it away, she couldn't move, she couldn't stop it.
Fury rose up in her at her own helplessness. She was not some helpless fragile thing!
In the distance, on another rooftop, the assassin laughed at her. "You're too late. You will always be too late! Everything you love is dying."
NO!
She sobbed out the word, even as another sound reached her ears, another laugh, something dark and sinister, rising out of the abyss.
A shadow.
Her Shadow.
It rose from the darkness below…from the ice and the snow…from the depths of the black water….
It pulled her down into the darkness while the assassin watched her fall….
….
"I know her!" Caroline cried out through the nightmare.
Kyle McCarty had roused Dr. Wells—Father—from his bed and delivered Vincent's message—and seeing Caroline now, he understood the older man's urgency. She'd pulled her stitches and fought against Vincent's hold as if she was fighting for her life.
"I recognized her," Caroline rasped, her breathing heavy. She was covered in sweat and blood.
"How can I help?" Kyle asked. There was no way Wells had any business getting in there with the kid thrashing like that.
An elderly woman appeared in the doorway as well. Mary, Kyle remembered; she was the one who had quilted several of the comforters at Elliot's place. She reminded him a bit of Maxine.
"She's burning up," Vincent told them."
"I'll bet some cold water," said Mary.
"Good." Father turned to the teenager, Vincent and Catherine's eldest son, who looked only slightly less menacing in sweatpants and a thick sweater. "Jacob, help your father hold her down. We must keep her from injuring herself further." He gave Kyle an appraising look—it was the same sort of look Peter Alcott had given him, when they first met. "We need to try and stop the bleeding. Are you any good at administering stitches?"
"Do you have some kind of sedative?" Kyle asked.
"I'm afraid not—not that they're…reliable." He flicked a significant look at Vincent.
Right. Their metabolism must be different. Kyle rubbed his hand over his face. "Yeah, okay. Okay." Okay. He'd fallen down the rabbit hole and the least he could do was make himself useful.
…
Thursday, January 5, 2006, New York (Above)
…
Thursday, January 5, 2006
A new journal for a new phase of my life. That's what Cathy called it. So why can't I shake the feeling that something is….
Simon hesitated, pen over paper. It was early; the sun was barely up. He'd hardly slept, but he couldn't stand having his eyes closed any longer.
….off. Weird.
Unfinished.
He underlined the word.
Something was unfinished.
It couldn't be the person who had shot him and Elliot. He believed George when he said she was dead.
She.
A kid not much older than Caroline.
He closed his eyes—but he couldn't even pray just then.
All last night, I had strange dreams. Darkness. Water. A black spiral staircase that went on and on like it would never end, but then somehow I was standing on a rocky, black-sand shore, looking out over a black sea. The sky was black—but there were no stars, no moon. Nothing but cold, foreboding darkness.
And then I see her. Caroline.
She's floating, faceup, on the waves, staring into the dark Abyss above us. Her hair looks like a halo or a lion's make, the only spot of brightness in the dark. I remember smiling, feeling like everything was going to be okay—but then something slithers under the water. The waves grow more violent. The water is churning, something is moving towards her and I try to scream out her name, but she can't hear me. She can't see the Thing coming at her. I start in after her—and then she's gone.
Just gone.
He closed his eyes against the terrible feeling of loss.
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything."
Simon snapped his eyes open at the familiar—and unexpected voice. "Ben?" He couldn't help but smile. "What are you doing here?"
Ben Kinkirk grinned over at him from the doorway. "Kevin called and aske me to check in on you when I had a few days. I had a few days."
"It's good to see you. As long as you're not here to try and talk me into going back to Glen Oak."
Ben, Kevin's younger, but physically taller, broader-shouldered brother, held his hands up as if in surrender. "That's between you and your parents. I'm just here to help you get settled back into your place, assuming they're still letting you out today."
"As far as I know," Simon told him. He closed the journal and set it over on the bedside table as Ben came over to offer up a careful hug.
"I didn't know you journaled," Ben said, after taking a seat in one of the chairs next to Simon's bed.
"It's something new."
"I hear there are a lot of new things in the world of Simon Camden—no judgement," he added quickly, when Simon started to respond. "I'm just curious. So far all I've gotten is second and third-hand accounts and they all come through the filter of Lucy, so…."
Simon laughed. "I'm sure the core of what you've heard is true. I met a girl. Back in April, not yesterday," he clarified. "She's younger than me but we haven't done anything that would get me into trouble with her godfather whose a cop or her aunt whose a judge. I'm moving…or moved, I guess, to New York to be closer to her. I dropped out of school, but I should be back in again by fall at the latest. I'm in love with her, Ben. Like really, really, really in love."
"I think you're leaving out the part where you got shot."
Simon shrugged. He was just piecing together how to explain when he saw Cathy. "Morning," he greeted her.
"I hope I'm not interrupting."
Simon laughed, "It's going around. Cathy this is my…." Brother-in-law? Brother-in-law's brother-in-law?
Ben beat him to it. He stood up and extended his hand. "Ben Kinkirk. My brother is married to Simon's sister Lucy—and I almost married his sister Mary." He glanced at Simon, "No offence, but I kinda dodged a bullet….erm, no bad puns intended." He ducked his head apologetically.
Simon laughed. "No offence taken, on either count. My sister Mary is…she's still figuring herself out. I don't really have any room to judge," he added.
"None of us does," Cathy said, in her sweet, serine way. "Ben, would you mind terribly if I had a word with Simon in private?"
" 'Course not. I'm going to head down to the cafeteria for some coffee."
Cathy winced. "I should warn you. It's pretty terrible."
"I'm used to terrible. Firefighter," he explained. "Only about half the guys at the station can actually cook."
Cathy chuckled softly. When he was gone, she took a seat.
"Something's wrong," Simon said, before she could speak.
She gave him a quizzical look.
"Please, Cathy. Whatever it is…." Except he couldn't handle it. If Caroline never wanted to see him again…..
"Caroline is…ill."
"What kind of ill?"
"It's difficult to explain, and the truth of it is that if it were up to me, I would tell you everything, but it's not up to me. What and when to tell you…it's Caroline's choice. It has to be. Tell me, what do you remember of the night you were shot?"
"Devin and Caroline came to the house. George had just told us what'd happened with Sarah. Everyone was…I still don't understand most of what being said, but Caroline wanted me to go with her and Devin, so that's what I did. She…." He glanced towards the hallway, but there was no one around except the occasional nurse or orderly making rounds. He lowered his voice, anyway. "Caroline and Devin brought us into the sewer and then…then I got shot. Right after Caroline triggered some sort of hidden door." Simon glanced back at the door, but it remained clear. "I didn't tell that last part, the stuff about being in the sewer to the detective. I just said it was all fuzzy, that I must've been in shock from the bullet." Which wasn't entirely untrue. "I know Devin brought me to Matt and Sarah's place and from there Diana and my dad brought me to that clinic where Joel works."
Catherine reached over and took his hand. "Thank you, Simon. For…for your discretion."
"I just had the feeling it was important, somehow."
She gave his hand a squeeze.
"I know you said some things were up to Caroline to tell me. I can respect that. But…if there's anything you give me right now…?"
"I know my daughter loves you, Simon. She's…Caroline is her father's daughter as much as she is mine. I'm sure you must realize by now our family doesn't have a perpetual case of the flu."
"Yeah. I kinda got that."
"When she's ready, I know she'll tell you everything."
"Do…do you think Caroline is making a mistake. With me."
"Oh, Simon. Love is never a mistake, not when it's true. I know you love my daughter. I know you would never do anything to intentionally cause her harm. She knows that too. And so does her father. We wouldn't be parents if we didn't have some concern over the age difference—but in a few years, it won't matter and I trust you to…to respect Caroline's wishes and boundaries until you're both old enough to make certain decisions with slightly more adult heads."
"I haven't always made great decisions."
"Vincent wasn't the first man I ever slept with, Simon."
"Yeah, but were you seventeen?"
She chuckled. "How about we leave that one with me pleading the fifth to avoid incriminating myself."
He gave her a startled look; it made Cathy smile.
"There are a great many things about me my father never learned." Then, more seriously, she added, "We all make mistakes Simon. The important thing is learning from them. Everything that I know about you tells me that you have learned from your mistakes. That doesn't mean you won't make new mistakes. We all will. But you have a good heart. You're a good person. There is nothing more that a mother could wish for her daughter than to find a good person whose love is sincere."
"Thank you, Cathy. I…sometimes I feel like my parents have lost all faith in me. And maybe that's my fault."
"Give them time. They love you. I love you, too."
