Take Me to Church Read online

  There's something.

  I can feel it.

  “You might as well get on with it!” I shout, just in case it can hear me. “I'm getting stronger all the time, so if you want a piece of me, you should make your move.”

  Huh.

  I sound much braver than I feel.

  I'm almost impressed by myself.

  Without waiting for a reply, I reach into my pocket and take out some nails, and then I hold one in place at the top of the loose plank. My right hand is shaking slightly, but I manage to aim properly and hit the head of the nail cleanly, driving it down into the wood. Muscle memory. I know how to do this. After hitting a couple more times, the nail is in place and I start on the next. The rhythmic banging instantly makes me feel a little more relaxed, and – provided I don't look too closely at my scarred hands – I can almost convince myself that I've gone back in time to the days when I was younger, when I used to come up here on bright sunny mornings and get to work restoring the roof while the back of my neck blistered in the heat. Those days seemed to stretch on forever, but now I'd give anything to get just one of them back again.

  Once the first plank is in place, I scramble down the side of the roof and start hauling the next one up. After a moment I hear a loud splash, and I turn to see that one of the larger rocks at this end of the causeway has been wrenched away by the storm. I thought the causeway would hold forever, but the sea is rougher than I've ever seen it before; still, one lost rock doesn't mean too much, and I have no doubt that the rest of the causeway will survive without too much trouble. If not, I guess that's something else I'm going to have to rebuild, although I'm not convinced that my strength will hold up long enough. Still, I have no choice. I have to make the church right before I die. After adjusting my grip on the second plank, I pull it up onto the roof and start dragging it through the wind and rain, making for the next damaged area on the roof, a little closer to the steeple.

  And then suddenly I stop.

  Holding my breath.

  I see it.

  Up ahead, there's a shape peering at me from the steeple's side. I freeze, convinced that it's a trick of the light or perhaps even some figment of my imagination, but as I stare into those dark eyes, they stare straight right back at me. I was right, something has come for revenge. When I heard an impact on the roof earlier, it really was something landing, and I guess it took its time because it was injured and needed time to heal, or maybe the voices of Donald and Marnie made it more cautious. As I stare, the creature moves slightly, reaching around the side of the steeple and coming further into view. With its ash-gray flesh and yellowing eyes, I know immediately what I'm facing; after all, I saw enough of them on the battlefield, back when they were working for my enemy, and now it's clear that one of them has managed to follow me all the way here, intent on revenge. I don't know what name they give themselves. I never heard them given a name, maybe they don't even have one, but I know what I've called them ever since the first time I saw them in action.

  Bone snatchers.

  A sudden gust of wind blows rain harder than ever across the roof, forcing me to hold on tighter.

  Just five or six feet away, the bone snatcher continues to watch me. If I didn't know better, I'd swear his lips were curled slightly, almost as if he's smiling.

  As another gust of wind strikes, the creature has to shift slightly. His clawed feet scrabble momentarily against the wood, scratching the surface.

  I don't like that.

  “Are you alone?” I call out, raising my voice so that hopefully I can be heard over the sound of the storm. I don't even know if these creatures understand English, but I guess I have to try. “Got any friends hiding back there?”

  The bone snatcher hangs back, which I guess means that he's alone. After all, he doesn't look too badly hurt, and I'm sure he would have attacked by now if he had any back-up. Instead he seems to be waiting, as if he knows he'll only get one chance to strike at me.

  “I don't have time for this!” I shout. “If you want to kill me, then kill me, but I'd really appreciate it if you could wait until I've finished my work!”

  I pause for a moment, before positioning a nail and starting to hammer it into the plank. If my time is limited, I need to get as much of the roof fixed as possible. I can't expect Donald and Marnie to do any of the work for me, but at least I can be sure they're safe inside the church. The bone snatcher won't be able to enter, and once he's finished with me he'll leave this place. My hands are trembling as I put another nail in position, and although I don't want the creature to think I'm scared, my body is too badly damaged for me to hold it still with ease. Taking a deep breath, I stare at my hand and focus, and finally I manage to keep from trembling just long enough to hammer the nail down into place. I take another deep breath, and then I turn to see that the bone snatcher has edged closer.

  He's getting braver.

  He must be able to see that I'm weak.

  “I'll put up a fight, you know!” I shout. “I know there's not much I can do, but I'll damn well make your life difficult!”

  He tilts his head slightly, as if he's trying to understand, but I'm still not sure that he knows what I'm saying.

  “I'm busy!” I shout. “I don't have time to deal with you!”

  Slowly he opens its mouth, revealing a set of sharp, stained teeth. A moment later, the two tips of his forked tongue briefly flick out, as if he can already taste me.

  I swallow hard. I've seen how these creatures operate, and I know that when they strike, they strike fast.

  I adjust my grip on the roof with my left hand, while raising my right and turning the hammer so that the metal claw side is ready to use. If I strike now, I can at least cause some damage and maybe take the creature with me when I die. If I wait, however, I'll end up having to be defensive, and that's when I risk being killed and simply tossed aside. I know it shouldn't matter to me whether the bone snatcher survives this encounter, and I know it's wrong to want any creature to die, but at the same time I feel as if the world will be a safer place if this damn thing is gone.

  “Come on, then,” I whisper, my voice too soft and low to be heard over the sound of the storm. “Come and get me.”

  I wait.

  The creature hesitates, and then he pulls back slightly, as if he's thought better of making a move.

  “What's wrong?” I shout. “Are you -”

  Suddenly I see that I was wrong earlier; the bone snatcher is injured after all. At the top of its left arm, its shoulder is badly ripped, dislocated or possibly even broken. The creature must be in agony, and its ability to fight will have been significantly compromised. Wounded, he still wants to hurt me but he knows he has to be careful. Given that there's fresh blood glistening all around his damaged shoulder, I can only assume that the original injury was probably caused during the fight on the battlefield, and the impact when he landed on the church roof probably reopened all the damage. That figures. A fully fit, uninjured bone snatcher would most likely have finished me off well before now. After all, I once saw one strip a man clean in less than a minute.

  “Scared?” I shout, suddenly feeling a burst of anger in my chest. I'm tempted to strike, but I hold back. “I have work to do! When you're ready to kill me, make your move! Until then...”

  I pause, before shifting down a little way on the roof and pulling some more nails from my pocket. I keep expecting the creature to strike again, but as I start hammering some more nails into place I start to realize that he's simply watching me, probably trying to assess the extent of my injuries. He's a cautious creature, that's for sure, and I guess he wants to know exactly what he's dealing with, which in turn means that although he has traveled a great distance to kill me, he doesn't want to do so at the expense of its own life. I hammer some more nails into place before glancing at the creature, briefly making eye contact, and then I shuffle down to the guttering and start hauling up the third and final plank.

  “You can help, if y
ou like!” I shout. “I mean, what's it to -”

  Suddenly my left foot slips and I start to fall. For a fraction of a second I feel as I'm going to tumble off the roof, but I quickly manage to wedge my right ankle into the guttering. There's a spark of pain and I let out a loud cry, but I quickly manage to hold myself together. I pause for a moment, trying to ignore the throbbing agony in my ankle, and then I start pulling the plank up onto the roof. Once that's done, I turn and start climbing up, only to see that the bone snatcher has moved around a little and is now perched right at the top of the roof, staring down at me.

  He saw me slip.

  He heard me cry out.

  He there was any doubt in his mind before, now he knows I'm wounded.

  “One more!” I shout, before turning away and continuing to haul the plank across the roof to where it's needed. “One more,” I mutter under my breath, “and then the essentials are complete.”

  In an ideal world, I'd be able to spend months fixing the church, making sure that every square inch is perfect. Unfortunately this isn't an ideal world, not anymore, not for me, so I have to prioritize. I struggle a little to get the third plank into place and then I start hammering the nails through in order to make the whole thing secure. I resist the urge to look over my shoulder and check on the bone snatcher, figuring that he'll attack at some point soon, and after a moment I start to wonder whether in some way he did understand what I was saying. Is it possible that the creature knows what I'm doing and why I'm doing it, and that he actually feels he should let me finish my work before he kills me? I never thought of them as noble things before, but now I'm starting to think that this bone snatcher, at least, recognizes the importance of the church.

  I take a moment to hammer the last nail into place, and then I look over at another, smaller crack in the roof.

  “If I had time,” I whisper, “I'd fix every spot of damage. I'd make you look as good as new again. You know that, don't you?”

  I wait, but of course there's no answer. Still, I like to think that the church, if it was capable of knowing such things, would know that I've done everything I can.

  I pause, taking a deep breath.

  Slowly, I turn and see that the bone snatcher is right behind me now, so close that I'd be able to feel his breath were it not for the violent wind and rain that's whipping through the air all around us.

  “Now?” I ask, my voice trembling more than I expected.

  I grip the hammer more tightly, ready to use it for defense.

  “Go on, then,” I continue, focusing on stripping the fear from my voice. “Do it. Kill me. My work here is done. Well, the basics anyway.”

  I wait.

  Still, the creature hesitates.

  “I won't make the first move,” I tell him. “Even on the battlefield, when I defeated your master, I waited until he struck me. I only fight in defense.”

  He tilts his head again.

  His eyes, fixed on mine, narrow slightly, and his pupils expand.

  Does he know what I'm saying?

  “No?” I continue, still struggling to keep from shaking with fear. “Fine, then. I still have things to be doing.”

  With the hammer still in my right hand, I turn and start crawling across the roof, heading toward the top of the ladder. I figure I can get more planks and repair some of the smaller -

  Suddenly a hand grabs my arm, holding me in place.

  I turn and see the bone snatcher's gray fingers wrapped around my forearm. His grip is tight, forceful, and I know I won't get loose without a fight. It's almost as if, like me, he doesn't want to be the one who strikes first.

  “Are you ready now?” I ask, as cold rain soaks through my clothes, chilling my skin. “Can't you tell I'm a wreck? There's really no need to be scared. I mean, that shoulder injury you're carrying? That's nothing compared to me. The advantage is all yours, so really...”

  I wait.

  He opens mouth, baring his teeth again and this time, I think, emitting a faint hiss that I can just about hear over the hiss of the rain.

  “What are you waiting for?” I ask, tightening my grip on the hammer. “You might as well -”

  Suddenly he strikes, lunging at me and hissing as he pulls me down while digging his teeth deep into my shoulder. I feel him biting through my clothes and then piercing my already-damaged flesh, and with his weight on top of me now I slip quickly down the side of the roof while reaching out with my left hand and pushing against the guttering to keep from tumbling right off the edge. I let out a cry of pain as I feel a claw tearing at my chest, digging through the flesh of my left breast and then up toward my shoulder as the creature uses its jaws to tear at me. Leaning back, I clench my teeth tight and then bring the hammer's claw swinging down, striking the base of the bone snatcher's neck and, to my surprise, eliciting a gasp of pain as the creature lets go of my shoulder.

  I never strike first, but when something does attack me... I fight back hard.

  Twisting around, with the creature still gripping my arm, I somehow find the strength to rip the claw out of the bone snatcher's flesh and then bring it striking down against into his shoulder-blade. At the same time, I feel his sharp fingers digging into my left shoulder until his claws scrape against my bones, but the pain is irrelevant right now, it's just something I can notice and ignore. Instead I focus on the anger, and on my growing determination to fight back with whatever means I have at my disposal. I pull the hammer back and bring it slamming down again, this time toward the back of the creature's head, but at the last moment he lashes out and slashes my arm, causing my fingers to slip loose and sending the hammer spinning away until it hits the roof and slides down. Before I can even think to reach out, I watch in horror as the hammer falls off the edge and disappears down toward the rocky ground below.

  Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my few remaining nails. As the bone snatcher digs deeper into my shoulder and starts tearing at my flesh with his teeth, I turn a nail around in my trembling hand and then drive it into the side of the creature's neck, digging it as deep as I can manage before ripping it to one side. I feel hot blood bursting from the wound, covering my rain-soaked hand, and I let out a cry of anger as I dig the nail in again. At the same time, the other nails spill from my hand and fall down the roof, landing in the gutter, but all that matters right now is the nail in my hand, which I use to slash repeatedly at the creature's neck and shoulder. There are no screams from his mouth this time, but I know this has to be hurting him as I continue to gouge at his flesh; at the same time, he seems to be completely focused on my left shoulder, and finally I tilt my head back and feel rain crashing down onto me as I let out an agonized scream.

  In a blur, the bone snatcher pushes his hand deep into my wounded shoulder and wraps his fingers around the first bone it finds. I try to push him away but his grip is too strong and when I try to strike again, the remaining nail drops from my hand and falls down into the gutter, leaving me without any more weapons. I'm in too much pain to reach for it again, so instead I close my right hand into a fist and start pounding the side of the creature's head. I know what he's about to do; after all, there's a reason I decided to call these things bone snatchers after I saw what they did to their victims on the battlefield, and this one is already much slower thanks to its injuries. I let out another cry, but it's too late and I feel agonizing pain bursting through my body as the creature starts to rip part of my shoulder-blade away, slipping it out from beneath my skin and tearing all the attached ligaments and muscle tissue until finally he raises his prize high above us both. I look up, trembling and horrified as I see blood being washed down the section of bone that has just been ripped out of me. There are even several ribs dangling from the end, having been pulled out with the rest.

  And the pain.

  The pain is coming, forcing its way into my numb mind.

  Twisting away, I feel myself slipping free from the creature's grip. I reach out and try to grab onto the guttering, but it's t
oo late: I slither down the wet roof and tumble off the edge, falling freely for a few seconds before slamming down against the rocks below with a cry of agony. Rolling onto one side, I try to get up but the pain is too much. I look toward the top of the church and see my own blood running down from the guttering, spattering down onto my face. A moment later I feel hands grabbing me from behind, and I hear Donald and Marnie shouting as they start dragging me inside.

  Seven

  “Let me back up there!” I scream, trying to get free. “I'm not done with that damn thing!”

  “No,” Donald mutters as they drag me through the doorway and into the church, “but he's almost done with you.”

  “How much blood has she lost?” Marnie stammers.

  They set me down against the floor, and I feel Donald tear my shirt open so he can see my damaged shoulder.

  “Oh God!” Marnie shouts.

  “Go to Tammy!” Donald tells her. “Make sure she doesn't see this!”

  “I have to go back out there,” I mutter, trying to get up from the floor before feeling a sense of extreme dizziness rush through my body. For a moment I look at the open doorway and feel as if the whole world is spinning around me, as if the sky is heavy and attached to me with invisible ropes. After a few seconds I'm able to focus and I see the vast storm raging outside. When I look up, I see through the thin cracks in the roof that the bone snatcher is directly above us, most likely waiting for me to emerge from the church again so it can finish me off. “Bring me anything I can use as a weapon,” I sneer, trying to fight through the pain even as Donald examines my wounds. “I'm going to finish that thing off, even if it's the last thing I do!”