Shining among Darkness
By
WingzemonX
Chapter 46.
Nowhere to Go
The night had been relatively quiet for Owen Ringland, owner and manager of the Ringland Motel on the outskirts of Eugene, on the road that connected with Cottage Grove. Only three of its twenty rooms were currently occupied (two by tourist families and one more by a woman traveling alone). And only five of the remaining ones were already clean and ready to receive someone. It was an off-season, and still having three rooms occupied in one night like this was considered acceptable to him.
Owen was a middle-aged man with an abdomen a little bulkier than the rest of his body and less hair than he should have for his age. He spent that night mainly staying at the reception, waiting to meet his current guests' needs or the arrival of a sudden new guest. It was around eleven o'clock at night when the latter apparently happened.
He was sitting behind the reception desk, arms folded as he watched on the small flat screen perched on the wall a local night show, which possibly only he and his wife saw on the face of that Earth. Then he saw how someone approached the glass door of the entrance and entered accompanied by the slight electronic bell that indicated that the door had been opened. The visitor was a tall and thin man with thick and shiny black hair (as Owen once had), covered with a leather jacket that he kept closed with his right hand as if trying to protect himself from the cold outside; Owen didn't think it was that bad. The man held a grocery bag in his right hand with items that Owen did not identify with the naked eye and, under his arm, a large brown paper bag from some fast-food restaurant.
The visitor walked over to Owen and smiled broadly at him naturally.
"Good evening," he greeted him calmly, allowing himself to place the bags he brought with him on the counter. "Do you have rooms available?"
Owen adjusted his glasses, muted the TV for a few seconds, and turned squarely on him. The smell of fried potatoes wafting from the paper bag filled his nostrils.
"Of course. For how many people?"
"Four; my three daughters and me."
The manager turned to his computer, began to review the available rooms list on his schedule, and cross-checked it for the number of people who would occupy it.
"Very well, for how many nights?"
"Just one."
He began to type with some dexterity for quick registration.
"Perfect. It would be sixty-five dollars. How are you going to pay?"
"Cash," the new host said without hesitation. Then he put his hand into the right pocket of his jacket, taking out of it a wad of bills from which he began to put aside those necessary to cover the amount. He then placed the corresponding bills on the counter and handed them over.
Owen was uncomfortable for a second to see all the cash he was carrying, but in the end, he let it pass; after all, it was not surprising that some tourists preferred to travel with considerable cash for any unforeseen events during their travels. Though it was still a bit curious to him the carefree way he had pulled out the bills and counted them in front of him without the slightest concern. He thought about indicating to him how dangerous that attitude could be, but he preferred not to get involved in what did not matter to him. He counted the money to verify that it was complete and then proceeded to take two of his electronic cards, programming them for the selected room and finishing the check-in with that.
"Here you have," he said, placing the cards on the display surface. "Room 14, on the top floor. I hope your daughters enjoy their stay."
"Very kind," the man said in a jovial tone. He put the two cards inside his jacket, retook his bags, and went out the way he had entered.
Owen settled back into his chair and turned up the volume on the television.
The new guest of the Ringland Motel crossed the road, then walked a few feet south toward the wide parking lot of a fairly busy restaurant and bar. There was loud music from inside the establishment, although it was heard clearly mainly when the door was opened from time to time. He walked to the side of the premises, moving a little away from the streetlights in the parking lot. There, leaning against the wooden wall, was a small figure, wrapped in a fur coat, hidden in the shadows. However, its presence was betrayed by the orange glow that emanated from the tip of its cigarette. When he approached it, the person did not even look at him. It remained focused on the darkness that loomed beyond, toward the woods with no more moonlight and stars. It blew thick smoke over its head, creating a dark haze around.
"Stop there," a female voice instructed the newcomer sternly, and the newcomer obeyed out of reflex.
He carefully lowered the balls he brought with him, placed them on the floor, and then took the magnetic keys out of his pocket to put them inside one of the bags.
"It's room 14, upstairs," the man told her as he stood up again.
"And the clothes?" The figure in front of him inquired aggressively, and he merely nodded at the bags beside him.
Only then, the tiny figure, which could easily be mistaken for a nine or ten-year-old girl, detach itself from the wall and approach him. When the dim light from the streetlights hit her, the man noticed that she was holding a long, dark gun in her other hand.
"Hey, wait," the man commented, even with some humor in his tone. He raised his hands slowly and stepped back, away from the bags. Once she was far enough away, this girl examined the contents. It had clothes indeed: pants, a blouse, and sandals. The other bag had three hamburgers, three orders of potatoes, and three canned sodas. "I don't know if it is the correct size."
The girl did not answer him. She just turned to look at him in silence, with a rather disturbing intensity. For a second, the man thought she was torn between shooting him right there or not. Still, he trusted that even at her young age, she would understand how absurd it would be to do so and that the whole bar would listen to the shot. Of course, she could always try to persuade him to walk into the bush and do it in the dark. But she was a brat half his weight or less; he didn't think it would be difficult to subdue her and take her weapon away if that happened, and she sure knew it too.
He did not know precisely what the girl's reasoning had been, but in the end, she apparently gave up on the idea of the shot. Instead, she put the gun back inside her coat and pulled out a white envelope, which she threw right at the feet of the man. He bent down slowly, taking the envelope with one hand while continuing with the other one raised. He went through it quickly: the envelope was filled with beautiful green bills, like the ones in the bundle that still had a few leftovers. That drew a wide, satisfied smile in his lips.
"And you never saw me," the girl snapped sternly, picking up the bags from the floor. "Is it clear?"
"Clear enough," the man replied, tucking the envelope into his jacket. "Although… is not my problem why three girls are running away and hiding in a motel, but…"
"Indeed, it's not your problem," the girl interrupted abruptly, already standing and holding the bags of clothes and food against her body with one arm. "Get out of here while you still can."
Then she turned fully towards the back of the bar while putting her cigarette between her lips again to take one last puff.
"Okay," she heard the man mutter behind her. "But you shouldn't smoke at your age, or you won't grow."
That stupid comment made her stop in her tracks and turn to see him once more over her shoulder. He had already turned around and was walking towards the parking lot, or perhaps instead into the bar. The girl reached inside her coat and drew her gun again, pointing it straight at his large head. Even at that distance, she could hit an accurate shot. She hesitated for a few moments, clenching the gun until his target turned the corner and was out of sight. Only then did she drop his arm entirely to the side. She whistled in frustration and kept walking towards where she was heading a moment ago.
It wasn't worth risking so much for a fool like that. Besides, she wasn't in the mood that night. All she wanted was to rest.
After shooting out of Eola's Hospital, Esther, Lily, and Samara drove for two hours without stopping. It didn't take long for Lily and Samara to actually fall asleep in their respective seats, although it was difficult to determine if Samara was really asleep or had just leaned back in the seat, as her long hair covered her almost entirely like some strange black sheet. Meanwhile, Esther, her nerves racing and alert, kept driving as best she could, trying not to let her fatigue get the better of her. Only once during the entire journey did she see the lights of a patrol coming down the road from the opposite direction, which made her even more worried. She held the wheel with her right hand while hiding the left on one side, holding her already loaded weapon and with the safety removed. The other gun, along with the silencer, had been left behind in that hospital corridor.
The patrol passed her and continued on their way. Esther looked at it in the rearview mirror, waiting to see if it would turn around at any moment and head behind them; that did not happen.
She breathed in relief.
They had managed to take a few alternate paths that the GPS indicated on their long drive to the south. However, it still surprised her too much how relatively easy it had been to get that far away without encountering any roadblocks, or at least a couple of patrols in pursuit. That must be more than luck.
Although in addition to the police, there was that man who had intervened to help them escape. Esther didn't have to think about it so much before coming to the conclusion that he must have been sent by that boy to… help her? Spy on her? Whatever it was, he indeed should be following them. But if so, he had to keep his distance well, or he drove with the lights off because Esther never noticed any vehicle driving behind her.
The uncertainty of not knowing who that man was or what specific intentions he had, stressed her even more than the police themselves. What if he planned to get rid of her and take the two girls himself, either on his own initiative or by the orders of the Thorn brat? She wanted to see him try it.
After crossing through Eugene, it became apparent to the woman at the wheel that she wouldn't be able to keep driving for much longer. She was tense, tired, and hungry. They passed that motel, and she considered that it would be pretty appropriate to stop there. However, she couldn't just walk in and ask for a room. In the best cases, they would call children's services to put them in their custody. That is why she had stopped in that bar to think about what to do.
She was watching for a while the people coming and going until she found the right one. Over the years, Esther had learned to read men and recognize different types. Especially one: the unscrupulous, capable of doing anything to receive money or pleasure; luckily, she had both things to offer, although whoever chose preferred the former: a few dollars in exchange for getting them a room, some clothes and food for dinner, and not asking too many questions.
So far, this had worked out well, but Esther was quite concerned that she had left a potential witness like that on the loose. There were several ways to get rid of him, but they all involved drawing too much attention, and that was the least they needed right now. She would have to risk it; after all, she had already risked too much that night (not to say during all these last days).
She returned to the van, parked in the darkest and furthest part of the parking lot, ensuring that no one saw her. She climbed into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind her. Lily had woken up before she left to do her transaction, but Samara was still huddled with her back to them when she left. Now Moesko's girl was sitting up again, leaning against the vehicle door while hugging her legs. She was a little startled when she heard Esther's door slam as if that had just woken her up.
"Finally!" Lily muttered in annoyance. Esther ignored her and instead turned back and handed Samara the grocery bag with the clothes.
"Here, it's for you."
Samara looked at the bag in confusion.
"You must change before you go out of the car."
Samara took a discreet glance at the hospital gown she still had on, the same one that was stained red with her own mother's blood and a little of hers. She also had a gauze on her cheek covering the cut her mother made her with a scalpel, as well as her hand. She timidly took the bag in her hands and looked at its contents. Inside there were blue jeans, a pastel-colored horizontal striped blouse, and sandals to be worn without socks. The girl understood immediately, but the idea of undressing in that vehicle did not seem pleasant at all.
"Don't worry, the windows are tinted," Esther told her in a jovial tone as if she had sensed her doubt just by looking at her face. "That means that no one can see inside."
Esther drew her weapon at that moment and showed it to her.
"And in any case, I am here to take care that no one comes near, okay?"
Samara hesitated for a few more seconds, but in the end, she gave a slight nod and began to remove the clothes from the bag. Esther turned back to the front to not bother her but kept holding her gun for anything. She was looking mainly towards the road, ensuring that no blue and red lights took her by surprise.
"You're so kind with the new one," Lily muttered suddenly.
Esther shrugged.
"I didn't have to shoot her to convince her to come with me."
"Lucky one..."
Saying that the brown girl brought her hand towards her right thigh, pressing a little on the bandage that covered it. As he did so, her mouth twisted in deep pain.
"Is it hurting you?" Esther asked with some coldness.
"No, it feels wonderful; ready to run in the Olympic Games," Lily replied wryly. "I really don't know how they haven't caught you yet. This escape was a disaster, and now you decide to stay here, still quite close to where we fled, and with a witness that all he would have to do is call the police from inside that bar, and that would end your big flight. You must have a good guardian angel."
"Or something else," Esther thought to herself as she continued to stare into the distance.
"It'll be only one night," the woman in the driver's seat said. "I am exhausted, and we still have a long way to go to Los Angeles. Also, you should rest that leg."
"How considerate," Lily muttered with the same irony as before, or maybe more.
Esther didn't say more, mainly because she no longer wanted to talk with her. What she craved instead was to put the gun down the girl's throat and empty the entire cartridge inside, because she was more than fed up with her disrespectful and sarcastic mouth. Sadly for her, she had too many reasons to not do that. However, everything had its limits... Besides, she had to admit that having her unique abilities had been beneficial to her, and not just that night.
"Are we going to Los Angeles?" They suddenly heard Samara's voice question from the back seat.
"It's a miracle, she finally speaks," Lily murmured, again in that annoying tone.
Esther ignored Lily again and preferred to answer Samara's question. In the rearview mirror, she looked at how she had finished putting on her new shirt.
"Yes, the person who hired me to find you is waiting there."
"And will he have better answers than you about what this is all about?" Lily interjected with interest.
"I hope so," Esther replied reluctantly, turning back to the windshield.
Less than a minute later, they heard Samara speak again.
"I'm ready."
Both girls in the front seats turned to see her. The shirt was a bit too big, but beyond that, she looked totally different with that change of look; even her face seemed to take on a little more color. The bloodstained robe lay on the seat next to her, curled into a ball.
"You almost don't look like a walking corpse," Lily commented nonchalantly.
"Ignore her; you look good," Esther added with some haste, and without further ado, she started the vehicle to go to the motel as soon as possible.
They parked a little away from the rest of the vehicles and crept out when no one was nearby. They did not unload luggage other than Esther's suitcase with the money and the bag with the food. The bloody robe was kept in the suitcase, and they would get rid of it as soon as they could.
"It's the prettiest hole you've dragged me into these days, though that's not saying much," Lily pointed out pointedly. Then she looked at the pool on-site, for those hours wholly alone and the door that led to it locked. "At least it has a pool."
"Don't even think about it," Esther answered reluctantly, going to the front and making sure there were no onlookers nearby. "Even if you weren't hurt, we can't show ourselves too much. We go straight to the room and leave first thing in the morning before someone finds out that our supposed daddy left."
"You just have to say you killed him," Lily pointed out wryly. "I bet you have practice saying it."
Esther didn't reply.
They then reached the foot of the stairs, which Lily observed as if they were a sudden creepy apparition. It wouldn't be nice to carry that up on crutches, and of course, that motel had no elevator. Esther looked over her shoulder at her reaction and smirked. Without saying anything, she calmly started up as Lily watched her angrily.
"Do you want me to help you?" Lily heard Samara asking with her little voice, standing next to her.
"Don't bother me," she replied dryly and began to climb step by step as her condition allowed. Samara walked behind her, hoping she didn't end up falling on her.
Arriving at Room 14's door, Esther unlocked it with one of the electronic keys. She immediately felt the wall for the light switch. The room was not bad at all, although it was pretty basic. It had two queen size beds with pink covers and two pillows in each one. In front of them, on the opposite wall, was a chest of drawers with a small flat television on it. At the back of the room were two doors: a wooden one that led to the bathroom and a glass one that led to a small balcony from which they could see the surrounding mountains. Apart from that, there was not much more than a few bureaus next to the beds, and between them, some lamps and a wooden chair in one corner.
Simple, but it looked clean and comfortable.
"I'll take the bed alone," Lily muttered quickly, heading over to one of the beds so that she could flop down onto it so could rest her already sore leg.
"Whatever," Esther replied without much interest in her complaint. Then she went to the bureau between the beds and placed the bag with the food on it. "Eat quickly before going to sleep."
Lily reached a little toward the bag to see its contents. As soon as Esther got into the car, she could guess what it was from the smell, but the sight of it made that clear.
"Burgers again?" Lily muttered with a certain weariness in her voice. "We haven't eaten anything else on this tedious journey."
"Excuse me, princess," Esther replied sarcastically. "Do you want me to cook you a steak? I immediately go to the kitchen and prepare it."
The woman stretched her arms up a little, letting out a pleasant moan as she felt the numbness of her muscles relax a little. Maybe this was all a bad idea, and there was a possibility that they might have the police on their doorstep before long. But for the moment, she didn't care; she just wanted to take a few minutes to relax so she could think better about her next step.
Samara moved silently around the room, appreciating the beige and pink paint on the walls, the dark blue curtains on the balcony door, and of course the covers on the bed with that scent so characteristic of hotel laundries but that for her, a twelve-year-old girl who had only left her island in the last four years to be locked up in that madhouse of pure cold white rooms, was strangely refreshing. In fact, although she wasn't entirely sure where exactly she was, she knew in advance that it was the furthest she had been from Moesko in her entire life. And, of course, it would go even further.
She sat on the edge of the unoccupied bed and stared at the bag of food. She peered out carefully, seeing the hamburgers wrapped in yellow paper, the potatoes in their white boxes, a few seasoning sachets decorating the bottom of the bag, and the soda cans, two red and one green. She wasn't drawn to the menu that night.
"I'm not hungry," Samara muttered slowly. However, she took one of the sodas, though she didn't open it right away. She just held it in her hands, resting it on her knees, and gazed at it in silence. She did not see her reflection on the shiny metallic surface of the can but her silhouette with the spotlight from the ceiling framing it.
Out of the corner of her eye, Samara noticed that Lily was also sitting on the shore, right in front of her, and this forced her to look up in her direction. Lily was watching her with some interest as if examining some weirdo under a telescope; oddly enough, that look was less annoying than that of Dr. Scott and the other doctors.
"Well… Samara, right?" The Portland girl questioned directly; Samara just nodded. "You were quiet or crying the whole way, so now tell me."
"Tell you what?" Samara replied, confused.
"The granny said you killed your mother," Lily snapped, making Samara wince in her seat. "How exactly did you do it? Tell me the details."
That question clearly bothered the girl, who not only didn't answer but also instinctively turned away in an attempt to avoid that interrogation look.
"Don't bother her," Esther chided, peering out a window beside the door to make sure there were no suspicious movements. Still, the girls' conversation had not been alien to her.
"Or what?" Lily replied challengingly, glancing at Esther for a second, but turning almost immediately back to Samara. "How many more have you killed? How do you do it? What exactly can you do?" Samara continued without answering or looking at her. Her long hair fell to the front, covering her almost entirely. "Come on, don't be a coward. I show you mine if you show me yours..."
"I told you not to bother her," Esther snapped angrily, stepping between them and facing Lily head-on. "The least you want is to alter her."
Lily looked at her, not directly angry but rather curious. A crafty smile played across her thin lips, and then she slowly stood up, leaning on one of her crutches. They both stood one in front of the other with a defiant attitude.
"Is fear what I'm feeling in you?" Lily whispered slyly. "Are you afraid of this witless?" Esther didn't answer, but it made a lot of sense. That's why she was so kind and considerate to her. Lily laughed satirically. "So bad and intimidating, and in the end, you're just a ball of fear like anyone else, right?"
Esther's face hardened even more. That comment was just the last drop in a glass that had been filling up all night and was nowhere near overflowing.
"Do you want me to show you how scared I am?" Esther whispered defiantly, and just then, Lily felt the barrel of her gun hitting her abdomen. That impressed her a bit at first, but she kept her calm and superior demeanor.
"Who do you think you impress with that? You lost your silencer gun, stupid. Shoot, and you'll have half of the Eugene police cornering this place. Besides, if you wanted to kill me, you would have already done it." Her smile broadened even more, laden with quite a bit of confidence. "It must be imperative for you to give me alive to whoever hired you, right? Are you also afraid of that other person?"
"I can deliver you alive even without your skeletal legs, you asshole brat," Esther replied and slowly lowering her weapon until the barrel was now pointed at her healthy thigh. Instead of being intimidated by that threat, Lily moved closer, facing her with greater vigor and keeping her eyes fixed.
"Do it, and I'll wrap you in a world of nightmares from which you will never be able to leave. And then you'll live the rest of your miserable and schizophrenic life in the padded room of a madhouse, like those you hate so much, wallowing in your own saliva and feces."
"Really? How threatening… Read my mind all you want, you little whore, and tell me…" Esther approached her to the point where they both almost had their foreheads pressed together. "Are you scaring me right now?"
They both fell silent right after that, looking at each other with such intensity that sparks almost seemed to arise between them. Esther had a firm grip on her gun aimed at Lily's leg, but Lily had her own kind of gun ready to fire as well, and that Esther knew very well. Both entered a stalemate, in which they only waited for the other to take a step, move a finger, or even blink so that all that tension that had arisen between them that day would finally explode... no, rather since several days ago, from the first moment they met in that hospital room. And everything was set to inevitably happen that way.
However, the attention of both of them dissipated a bit as they heard at that moment the sound of gas being released, followed by a bubbling gurgling and the gasp of astonishment from the third person in that room.
Esther and Lily turned to Samara simultaneously and noticed how the soda in her hands had started to spill when she opened it, wetting her fingers and leaving them sticky, and then falling to the carpet. Quickly the girl placed the soda on the table in alarm. Her next almost involuntary action was to run her hands over the new shirt in an attempt to wipe them off a bit of the soda but only managed to stain her clothes as well. When she realized she was being watched, she looked up at her two companions, feeling embarrassed. Her cheeks flushed, and she tried again to hide her face behind her long hair.
"I'm sorry…" she whispered slowly, barely audible.
By the way or not, that little act seemed to cool Lily and Esther's heads, just a little bit but enough for the older one to pull her gun away from the other and then walk to the bathroom door.
"I'll take a bath. Don't disturb me."
Lily snorted nonchalantly and flopped back onto her bed with her arms folded.
"Wait to see her without her makeup; it's horrible," she said playfully to Samara. Esther listened to her but did not stop to say anything or think much about the matter. He went straight into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her with some force. "Turn on the TV and find something, will you?"
Samara was a little startled at being alluded to, and then she noticed the remote control on the bureau near her. She took it, sat on the bed, and turned on the flat screen on the dresser. Then she navigated between the channels, staying a few seconds in each one, waiting for her roommate to tell if she wanted to watch it, but that did not happen.
"Can you at least tell me why you agreed to come with this crazy woman?" Lily blurted out, taking her a bit by surprise. "You didn't know we were going to Los Angeles or who we are going to see there. I don't know either, but I have reasons for playing this woman's game for a bit longer."
Then she turned inquisitively to her.
"Which ones are yours? Or do you have so little willpower that you do whatever the people tell you?"
Samara seemed thoughtful for a while. She lowered her gaze for a few seconds and then turned once more to the television, continuing her journey through the few channels that were available on it.
"At first, I just wanted to get out of that horrible place," Samara blurted out suddenly with some apathy. "But now, I have nowhere to go... I killed my mother; I'm a murderer. Matilda and my dad will never forgive me. Besides…" She slowly turned her head to one of the corners of the room, her gaze focused on that point. "She told me that this is what I should do..."
"She?" Lily murmured, confused. "Are you talking about the granny? Or who are you talking about?"
Samara did not reply. She did not think that girl was able to understand what she was looking at in those moments. She did not think that girl was able to understand the opaque figure, with long and disheveled black hair, dirty white dress, wrapped in a dark and rotten air, that lay in that corner, but that at the same time did not seem to be there as if it were just a blurred etching on the wall.
That night, that being had come face to face with her more times than ever, considering she was still awake. Samara wondered if now, every time she looked to the side, there she would be watching her from afar. Maybe not, but it still didn't matter. After what happened that night, she had begun to lose her fear to that ghost or whatever it was. At the end of the day, she was now a monster just as horrible as her... or maybe worse...
END OF CHAPTER 46