Grave Girl Page 30

  Turning, Sam looks down into the dark pit. The rope is dangling down, waiting for her to make her descent, but now that Faraday is gone, she's not sure whether there's any point. Going down alone would be hopeless.

  "What if I told you, Sam, that there's another way to save Henry? A better way. What if I told you that I can help you guarantee his safety, and all I ask for in return is your loyalty. Is that too high a price? No matter what happens to the rest of the world, I promise you that I can protect Henry. And you, too, but I imagine that's not so high on your list of priorities. You want to prove yourself. You want to atone for your sins, and let's be honest, you've committed some of the gravest sins around, haven't you?"

  "I'm going to save him," Sam says quietly.

  "I'll take him with me," Fenroc tells her. "When this world ends, I'll take little Henry with me and he'll live a full and happy life in the next world. How does that strike you? It's not a bad deal, is it? I'll even tell him about you. I'll tell him that Sam Marker was a decent, if flawed, girl who ultimately did what she could to save her son. I'm sure he'll idolize you. He'll look up to you. He'll wish he could have met you. That's a hell of a lot better than the way things are right now, isn't it? I mean, if this world continues, he's gonna grow up to hate you, isn't he?"

  "You don't know anything," Sam mutters darkly.

  "How did it feel?" Fenroc asks. "That moment when you gave birth and looked down at the child you were going to abandon... How did it feel to know that you could never be a mother poor little Henry? Did you apologize to him? Did you kiss him? Or did you look away, hoping to make the whole experience less painful?" He pauses for a moment. "Where were you, anyway? Where did the magic moment take place?"

  "At the bus station," Sam whispers, unable to keep herself from thinking back to that day, three months ago, when she Henry was born onto the dirty, grimy floor of a toilet cubicle that she'd tried desperately to keep clean; she remembers cutting the umbilical cord and trying to wash the baby; she remembers starting to clean the cubicle before giving up; she remembers wrapping Henry in a shawl and writing his name on the fabric; finally, she remembers leaving him on the steps and running off into the night.

  "You can have him back," Fenroc says eventually. "If you're really extra nice to me, maybe I'll see my way to letting you come with us."

  "I don't deserve to have him back," she says, trying to stay calm.

  "But you want him, don't you?"

  "It's not about what I want. It's about what's best for him."

  "Every child needs its mother."

  "I'm not his mother." She pauses. "Not really, anyway. I just gave birth to him, but by now he's probably got a proper mother, someone who'll actually look after him. I've been selfish all my life, but I'm not going to be selfish now. I'm not going to go back and try to get him. The only thing I can do for Henry is to make sure the world is a decent place."

  "And that's why you think you can jump into this pit and save everyone?" Fenroc asks.

  "You got any better ideas?"

  "You can strike a deal with me," he continues. "A deal that's guaranteed to keep Henry safe." He waits for a moment, and he can see that he's managed to get Sam's attention. "You can't stop me. Don't fool yourself. There's nothing you can do to keep me from doing exactly what I want to do. Once I've achieved my goal, however, I'll have certain powers. I'll have dominion over part of the next world, and I'll be able to offer both Henry and you a chance to live. Can't you put aside your doubts and fears, Sam, and focus on keeping Henry safe? There's only one way."

  "Actually," Sam replies, "there's another way. You could not wake the Devil up. You could not destroy the world."

  "Where's the fun in that?" Fenroc asks. "I've waited for this moment. I've offered my loyalty to those who claimed to be pious and holy, and I was left to rot. It took me a while, but I finally came around to the idea that a true bargain, a proper agreement, can only be made with the Devil. You can't sign a contract with God, Sam, but the Devil's another matter entirely. I'm just fortunate that the other gardeners, those who came before and after me, were unable to recognize the enormous potential of such an agreement. I'm the one who's going to seize the opportunity, and I'm the one, the only one, who can help you keep Henry safe. So what are you going to do? Are you going to jump into that pit and try to come up with a plan, or are you going to accept my very generous offer?"

  "I'm not making a deal," Sam says firmly. "Not with you. Not with anyone. All I want..." Her voice trails off for a moment as she allows herself to imagine Henry somewhere out there in the world. "All I want is for him to be okay," she continues eventually. "I don't care what I have to do to fix the world for him, but if I have to go down into this pit, I'll do it."

  "That's very noble," Fenroc says, staring at her. "Perhaps I've been too hasty. Perhaps in my determination to reach this point, I've neglected to consider the wider issues." He starts walking toward Sam, and for a moment he seems genuinely lost in thought. "It's so easy to let matters cloud your judgment, you know. To get confused and end up not really seeing things straight. You don't know me, Sam. You don't know the misery I endured. I was a gardener here once, and I was expected to be a good little boy and do what I was told. It was practically a fucking sacrifice. My whole life was supposed to be given over to protecting this place. The whole fucking experience was humiliating. I used to do all the actual gardening at night, just so no-one could see me. I hated every second of it."

  "There's still time to stop all of this," Sam says, backing away from him, edging closer to the precipice. "I mean, there is still time, isn't there?"

  "Aye," he replies. "Probably."

  "So let's stop it," Sam continues. "The Devil doesn't have to wake up. Can't you just slow down and maybe find something else to do?"

  "Aye," he says, still walking closer to her, "I suppose I could."

  "Isn't there someone you care about? I care about Henry. Isn't there someone out there, someone you love?"

  Without replying, Fenroc stops as he gets to within a few feet of her.

  "There's no need to fight," Sam continues, starting to feel as if she might actually be able to get him to reconsider. "Whatever you want, I'll help you. Just don't wake the Devil. Don't put the whole world in danger."

  "What you're saying makes perfect sense," Fenroc replies after a moment. "I could just give up and go away. I could find something else to do, something else that gives my life meaning. Granted, it's taken me years to get to my moment of glory, but I could change my mind at the last moment, couldn't I?" He waits for a reply. "Well, couldn't I? There has to be more to life than destroying the world."

  "Let's just leave," Sam says cautiously. "If you stop now, maybe he won't wake up?"

  "Aye," Fenroc says, stepping closer to the edge and peering down into the darkness. "Aye, maybe you're right. After all, I was figuring I'd have to do something pretty big and noisy to get the old guy's attention. I had a few ideas up my sleeve, but I was still a little uncertain."

  "Then you agree?" Sam asks. "You'll stop?"

  "Hard to say," Fenroc replies, still staring into the pit. "To come so close, and then to give up... Is that the mark of a man, or the mark of a failure? And why should I give up? Do you have any idea how hard I've worked to reach this moment? Do you have any idea what I've endured?"

  "You can still -"

  "Give us a hug," he says suddenly.

  Sam stares blankly at him.

  "Come on," he continues, smiling. "Remind me of the value of human warmth. You're a mother, after all. I never had a mother. Not really. She died when I was born. Maybe that's at the root of all my problems. Maybe if I'd just had a big old titty to suckle on as a child, and a mother to pat me on the head and tell me I'm a good boy, I'd not have all these conflicting feelings. Maybe I'd be a better person." He pauses. "I'm saying it as a joke, but you never know, do you? There might be a grain of truth in there somewhere."

  "Let's go," Sam says, reaching out to tak
e his hand. "Let's just get out of here. We'll seal the hatch and make sure no-one ever comes down here again."

  Fenroc looks down at her hand.

  "It's okay," Sam continues. Glancing over at Faraday's body, she realizes that although Fenroc's a killer, the most important thing right now is to get him as far away from the cemetery as possible. "We'll go back up to the cottage," she adds, turning back to him, "and we'll come up with a plan. Something new for you to do. Something that doesn't involve so much death and destruction."

  Cautiously, Fenroc takes her hand.

  "Deal?" Sam asks.

  "I came here to make a deal with the Devil," Fenroc says after a moment. "Instead, I'm suddenly making a deal with a teenage girl."

  "It's okay," Sam continues, "I -"

  "Nah," Fenroc says with a smile. "It's not okay." Pulling her closer, he twists her around and pushes her to the edge of the precipice. "I think I'll stick to my original plan, thanks all the same," he sneers, before reaching into his coat and pulling out a large hunting knife. "Still, I think you might still be useful to me in one respect, Ms. Marker."

  "Don't -"

  "Too late," he continues, raising the knife before driving it down into the side of Sam's skull, causing her to let out a yelp of pain as the blade slashes through the bone and directly into the center of her brain. "How's that?" Fenroc asks, leaving the knife embedded in her head as he steps back. "Got a little headache, have you?"

  With blood starting to pour from her mouth, Sam staggers toward the edge of the precipice before slowly turning and staring back at Fenroc. She can feel the cold metal deep inside her head, interrupting her thoughts. She can feel, also, the blood flowing through her head and down into the back of her throat. As she stares at Fenroc, she realizes that she's finding it harder and harder to keep her thoughts organized.

  "Aye," he says with a grin, "I thought you'd just topple over, but I guess I'll have to give you a helping hand." He steps toward her. "I knew you'd come in handy eventually, Sammy baby, but I honestly never realized you'd make such a good alarm clock." With that, he gives her a hard shove on the chest, sending her falling backward and dropping like a stone into the depths of the pit.

  "Wakey wakey!" Fenroc shouts, standing on the edge of the precipice and watching as Sam's body disappears into the darkness below. "Rise and shine, old chap! I've sent you a spot of breakfast. Now it's time to wake up and start a new world!"

  Part Eight:

  The Last Gardener

  Prologue

  Nine months ago

  "I don't get it!" Nadia shouts through the letterbox. "What's wrong, Sam? Are you losing your fucking mind?"

  Sitting on the stairs, just out of sight, Sam tries to keep her cool. The last thing she wanted was a big argument, and she's spent the past few weeks carefully avoiding Nadia's calls and emails. Just when she'd let her guard down, however, Nadia's come storming up to the front door, demanding to know what's wrong, and there's no force in the world stronger than a pissed-off, self-righteously angry Nadia.

  Sighing, Sam sits back and places a hand on her swollen belly.

  "Did I do something?" Nadia calls out. "Fuck, Sam, I don't remember what I said last time we were out, but if I said or did anything that pissed you off, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean it!" She waits for an answer. "Can't you at least tell me? I wanna apologize properly! Come on, bitch, let me in!"

  Sam opens her mouth to reply, but no words come out. She doesn't want an argument. All she wants is to be left alone so she can deal with the problem alone. She doesn't need help or sympathy or compassion. She knows Nadia would fuss around her and make her go to see a doctor, and while she knows that technically those are the things she should be doing, she's determined to make her own way instead.

  "I miss you," Nadia continues. "No-one else is so up for a night out. Everyone's getting boring, Sam. They're getting older and doing stupid shit like getting jobs and families. Please don't be like that! I don't get why you're suddenly treating me like I'm some kind of piece of crap on the sole of your shoe!"

  With tears in her eyes, Sam tries to stay calm. She and Nadia have been friends for years, and the last thing she wants is to make her best friend feel as if she's done something wrong. The problem, however, is that Sam can't bear to start talking about her pregnancy. Ever since she found out about the baby, she's been careful to avoid bumping into anyone she knows. She spends her days sitting around in her late grandmother's apartment, watching daytime TV, and then she goes out at night to get food, waddling through the dark streets. Although she doesn't have much money left, she figures she's just about got enough to last until the baby's born, and then...

  And then...

  And then she doesn't have a clue what she's going to do.

  "Fine!" Nadia shouts, sounding annoyed. "I know you're in there, Sam! I know you can hear me! Whatever's up with you, I don't give a shit! Fuck you!" She pauses. "I thought we were friends. That's all. I thought you could talk to me. Obviously you think you've met a bunch of better people and you don't want anything to do with me anymore. That's your call. I'm not gonna beg you for anything. Just remember that I don't let people treat me like shit, okay? I won't forget this, so don't come crawling back and asking to hang out again. This is it. We're not friends anymore. Got it?"

  Sam takes a deep breath as tears rolls down her cheeks.

  "Fuck it," Nadia mutters.

  Sitting alone, Sam listens as Nadia walks away from the front door.

  After a few minutes, once she's certain that Nadia isn't lurking in the corridor, Sam hauls herself up and makes her way to the bathroom. Switching on the light, she does the same thing she does most evenings: she stares at herself in the mirror. The baby bump is barely showing, but Nadia would definitely notice. Soon, the bump'll get bigger and bigger, until eventually it'll be impossible to ignore. She's been wearing baggy clothes for the past few weeks, but she knows that Nadia would pick up on the bump immediately. In order to get through this crisis, she figures she needs to push her best friend away.

  Although she knows she should go and see a doctor, Sam figures she can just get through the pregnancy alone. A doctor would just check on the baby and confirm that it's doing okay, but Sam's come to the conclusion that she can carry and give birth to the kid all by herself. After all, she figures, people managed to have babies in the old days, before expensive hospitals and midwives and all that stuff. Running her hand over the bump again, she tries to imagine a child growing inside her body, but the whole thing just seems so insane. A doctor wouldn't be able to help, so she's told herself that she can just get on with things and deal with the baby when it arrives. She doesn't need anyone. She doesn't need people treating her like she's delicate, and she doesn't need baby-showers or prams or any of that stuff. All she needs to do is get through the next few months, and then when the baby comes, she'll...

  She pauses, still staring at her reflection, and that's when she makes the decision she's been avoiding for so long.

  She'll give the baby away.

  Although the idea breaks her heart, she knows it's the only right thing to do. She doesn't feel ready to be a mother, and she knows she lacks the kind of support network that she'd need in order to raise the child. She has no family, and now that Nadia's gone she doesn't really have any proper friends. On top of that, she has no money, no job, no prospects, and soon she won't even have a home. The thought of trying to bring a child into the world is overwhelming, and she figures that if she gives it away, someone else will take care of its upbringing. The last thing she wants to do is to ruin a child's life, and she's certain there must be plenty of families who'd love to adopt her child.

  "Okay," she says firmly, taking a deep breath and trying to stop crying. "Okay, it's settled." She stares at her belly. "I promise, you're better off without me."

  After a moment, she bursts into loud, wailing sobs. Unable to control herself, she slowly slides down the wall until she's sitting on the bathroom floor, a
t which point she puts her head in her hands and finally stops trying to keep it all in. Despite all her plans and schemes, at this particular moments she feels as if she's falling, tumbling out of control with no hope of ever being saved. There's a part of her that thinks she should have let Nadia see the truth, and asked her for help, but at the same time she's desperate to avoid having people judge her and look down on her for letting herself get pregnant so easily. With tears streaming from her eyes, she eventually lets out a cry of frustration, but there's no-one around to listen. All she can do is focus on the future, and hope that one day things will get better, for her and for the baby.

  Chapter One

  Today

  As she falls, she tries to focus on the good things: the times when she was happy; the times when she was with people she loved; the times before her life fell apart. She thinks of her parents, and of the holidays they spent together before the day, many years ago, when a car accident took them away forever. She thinks of the early years living with her grandparents, when her grandfather used to play with her and encourage her to think big. And then she runs out of good things and she's left with just the bad things: life alone with her grandmother after her grandfather died; being bullied at school; finally making friends with Nadia, only to end up being drawn into a non-stop riot of drinking and partying. Random guys. Sketchy evenings. The pregnancy.

  Eventually, all these messy memories start to crystallize into one form, one smiling little face.

  Henry.