Page 32 of Fatally Yours
Without another lyric, August rolled Devin’s limp form into the hole, then covered him with dirt. Every time he piled on another shovelful, I winced,remembering when I was in the same place as him. The only difference between him and me was that he was genuinely dead instead of suspended between worlds, while August resurrected me. At least, I hoped he didn’t suffer like I did. Dying was one thing. Torture was another.
“Bet hell is cold beneath my feet, huh, Devin?” August said, spitting into the dirt below. His eyes met mine as he tossed the shovel away, once again making me flinch at the sounds of metal clattering against the soil. Without a word, he grabbed my hand and led me further into the woods. The grave was still in view, right beside Devin’s banged-up car.
He sat down on the ground and motioned for me to join him. Silently, I obeyed, placing myself beside him. He leaned back and tucked his hands behind his head while his hair unfurled around him. I mimicked his casual behavior, feeling the bite of stones against my cold flesh. We lay there, staring at the twinkling night sky and the glow of the half-moon ripping through the darkness. After a moment of tranquility, I spoke.
“Why did I act like that?” I asked quietly. He didn’t tear his gaze away from the inky sky, but interpreted my question well.
“Death makes you rotten. Your humanity, your soul, your heart. Everything but our bodies.”
“I don’t like it,” I said, turning towards him. “I don’t like wanting to hurt people.”
“You get used to it.” His mismatched eyes met mine again. “Sometimes I still can’t believe I stabbed you to death…”
“I still can’t believe we brought you back from the dead,” I said flatly. His dimpled smile could’ve brought me back to life right then and there.
“I told you I was going to live forever.”
XV
The low hum of the engine was occasionally interrupted by a familiar popping noise, preventing me from resting my eyes. Devin’s car was always going to shit. Even though I didn’t require sleep, it distracted me from what we just did. The sins we committed weighed heavily on me, even if, at the moment, they didn’t. I wondered if that was part of being dead, too, and if August felt the same way after he made me join him. If he felt conflicted before, I doubt he did now. We would continue to rot in mind and soul. Like he said,everything but our bodies.
After some time, I turned to him, noticing he was staring out the windshield with a blank expression, something that was becomingmore common as the days went on. His smiles were fading into something more somber. Consumed by the harshness of death, I figured. I set my hand on him, and a strange sadness crept through my heart, making me recall all the times we spent riding down the country roads when we were alive.
“Where are we going?” I questioned.
“Wherever.” His deadpan expression never shifted. I sighed—I think. Everything I did felt automatic, even if it wasn’t necessary anymore. Breathing was just habitual at this point—ingrained by nature for survival. I removed my hand from his and propped my head on my elbow, realizing he wasn’t in the mood to talk. It was a stark contrast to how he was in life. He glanced at me, and his steely face dissolved.
“We have to ditch this car, baby.”
“Why?”
“It’s not a good habit to hang on to your victim’s stuff.”
“Then how are we going to get back to town?”
He gave me a pointed look. “We’ll find another car.” I pursed my lips as I returned my stare out the window. I didn’t want to think about what we would do to obtain another vehicle. Killing innocent people was out of the question for me, but I wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Maybe eventually, I would fade into that attitude, too. Then we would really be in trouble.
We spent the rest of the ride in silence. Not even the radio was on, and he wasn’t singing a tune that would distract me from all the ghoulish ideas running through my head about how we would get a different vehicle. Even the glittering stars in the sky that provided me so much comfort when I pulled myself from the grave didn’t bring me peace.
Soon after, he popped on the turn signal, and I lifted my head from the window, realizing he was pulling into a lone bar. My face scrunched as I looked at him, hoping that this was just a mistake and we were taking time to regroup. Hopefully, he was not planning to go in there and expose us to a bunch of people. Attention was the last thing we needed.
“What are we doing here?” I asked.
“You’ll see.” Without another word, he got out of the car, and I followed suit, not wanting to argue. The doors slammed behind us, and I peeked overthe top at him, watching as he placed the keys on the roof and motioned for me to follow. He wandered to the door, but I remained where I was until he waved his hand again, this time more aggressively.
I knew better than to protest. He already proved he could kill me and bring me back from the dead. There was no use fighting with someone who held that much power, even if I hesitated to call it fear.
August held the door open for me as I entered. The building was cozy and dark, with dim lights illuminating different rickety tables and framed photos on the walls. A low but distinct tune played over the speakers, just loud enough to mask intimate conversation, and a multitude of grungy-looking characters were scattered at the various tables, locked in conversations or playing card games.
A blonde woman with rosy cheeks propped herself up between two leather-clad men and laughed obnoxiously at something, patting one of their chests with her palm. No heads rose when we walked in, much to my relief. I hoped the dull lighting would mask our unusual appearance.
He made his way to the bar while I trailed behind, feeling a fluttering in my stomach. Despite no heads turning when we walked in, I couldn’t help but feel like every eye in the building was on us. Neither of us fit in here, even August, in all his rugged glory. I almost thought this was a place only fit for criminals and those who skittered along the underbelly of society until I realized that we would fit quite snugly into that category. Not wanting to think about it, I caught up and placed myself beside him.
There was already a drink in front of him, and I hoped—prayed—that this was a result of guilt from the previous evening and not a celebration. I needed someone to share my conflicted emotions, but knowing how easy it was for him to take me out, that was just an empty dream.
Just like in life, August was reveling in this conflict. And why wouldn’t he? One of the men he hated the most was dead, he got to humiliate him before committing the act, and I was right there by his side, able to delight in the thrill of the situation. That was what that was.Delight.
I set my head on my hand, and when the bartender passed by, I muttered something about bringing me whatever he was having. The last thing Iwanted was to be surrounded by people, but I could at least make the best of this situation by trying to forget about everything, just like I did when he died.
