Its shriek is definitely feline. Unmistakable and chilling—spine-startling—slicing through the late night air.
Ambrosia sits up in the front seat, peering backwards over
the headrest, clasping it in her hands, out the hatch window at something down the street. Told her to stay tucked under the dash. Not a good neighborhood to leave a young, petite thing in an unattended sports car late into the night. Fast car and a girl built to go fast are a tempting combination on this street. Hell, a urine-soaked one dollar bill would be an irresistible temptation to the inhabitants of this street.
Ambrosia was all too eager to tuck herself under the dash before I left her—inside the locked doors with the alarm on. She’s been trembling since I found her in the upstairs bathroom, but her shakes increased when we turned into this neighborhood.
The cat-like wailing has proven too much for her to ignore—even stronger than her fear. Or maybe she just wanted to get a look at what monster might be coming for her.
Press a button and disarm the alarm. Lights flash. Reach for the handle—keeping Edgar’s arm in the other hand.
The shrieking comes again. It is from down the street where Ambrosia stares, but it’s coming closer. Long black gown, skimming the sidewalk at the figure’s feet. Like many New Orleans sidewalks, this one ruptures—rising and falling over the powerful oak roots beneath it, and elsewhere sinking down with the swamp mud below it. The sad figure rises and falls with the terrain—paying it no mind—while its spirit stays low, wounded, and loud—wailing into the night.
Gray and black hair braids begin to come undone underneath frantic fingers trying to hold the remaining sanity inside the figure’s head.
Katrianna—it’s Katrianna. What on earth has driven her out of her house?
“Katrianna!” I call out.
She responds with nothing but wail—doesn’t even seem to look at me. Looks like she watches a nightmare in the air just in front of her face.
I feel Edgar wiggle in my grip.
“Karianna!” I call again—this time getting her name right.
“Katrianna,” she replies, “Call me what I am—the crazy cat lady.” The sobbing shakes her body.
Let his arm slip away. Rush toward her.
Put my arms at her shoulders. She shakes them away. Her hair hangs in her face, covering most of her eyes that gush beneath them—all of it looking like branches dangling over a moonlit lake.
A quiet, high pitch continuously emanates from her mouth—sounding like her soul leaking out of her. She moves her lips to talk—no words come, but the sound stays constant.
Footsteps behind me. Stumbling and walking away from us down the sidewalk. Point my finger at the sound.
“Stay right there, Edgar. Will be nasty if I have to chase you down again.”
Footsteps stop.
Car door opens and slams.
Point my finger at that sound.
“Ambrosia, stay where you are. Only be a few minutes.”
This sound is disobedient—continues to walk right up to me.
“Simon,” trembles the voice beneath the gray and black dangling strands, “Killed them, Simon—all of them.”
“No,” comes out my mouth with all the breath from my lungs.
“Killed who?” asks Ambrosia, now stopping at my side, “Who got killed? Ruby! Did you kill, Ruby, you witch?”
Putting my hand against her shoulder and pushing her back, “No, Ambrosia, she didn’t kill anyone.”
Katrianna stirs at the sound of Ambrosia’s name. Her hands rising to her hair, parting it in the middle like a curtain opening.
Ambrosia stares at Katrianna’s face—surprised to see such a young-looking woman beneath hair that’s seen so much trouble. Bruises mark her face—already fading, but still there.
Staring Katrianna in the eyes, Ambrosia asks, “What about Ruby? If you didn’t kill her, did anyone else hurt her? Tell me!”
“No, young one—young foolish one. She wasn’t there when they came, but they keep her as ransom to get you. As long as you live, so will she.”
“Roderick—he came to your house?” I ask.
Eyes gloss over—misty, shiny blue, “He came. He brought others—‘bout eight—ten of them—lost count.”
“Why?”
“Must’ve figured you came to me. Maybe they were following you. Thought I might know where the girl was—thought you might’ve sent her to hide at my house when they took Ruby from you,” pausing to look at Ambrosia, “All my cats—all my pretties died for you—slaughtered, and here you are—right where any of them can find you,” suddenly she jumps toward Ambrosia, “Why are you here! Why aren’t you far away hiding from them before they slaughter you too?”
Stepping between them. I hold an arm against both of their shoulders.
Ambrosia looks back toward the car, unable to keep her eyes on Katrianna.
“Answer me!” screams Katrianna, “Tell me why you’re here. Why did you come back? Don’t you see what you’ve done? Dead—all of them—dead.”
Ambrosia bites her lip and starts to cry, still staring at the car, wishing it would take her away.
“Look at me!”
Ambrosia obeys, slowly bringing her eyes to meet those of the woman in front of her, “I was bored. Just bored.”
Katrianna’s eyes dart back and forth, wide—bewildered.
“I know it’s shallow—pathetic. True. I have nothing else. Just going out—putting on a show, hoping something happens to me—hoping to find something.”
Slowing the wild movement of her eyes, Katrianna says, “I’d say you’ve found something—found something you can’t get away from.”
Katrianna’s eyes catch something over my shoulder. They grow wide again—electrified with passion, “You!”
I step to the side to see who she is talking about. Edgar. He looks worried—his fingernails sticking out, hands ready at his sides.
Pointing one, lone, tense finger in his direction, aimed to tear into his head, Katrianna says, “He—he was there! I can smell their blood on him.”
“You’re upset, cat lady. You’re smelling them everywhere. It’s just the linger in your senses.”
“Junkie liar!”
I say, “Kat, he may be right. He was almost in a coma when I found him here.”
“He stands now, doesn’t he?”
“Not a few minutes ago, he wasn’t. I promise you he wasn’t standing then.”
“Well, he—he would’ve been there if he were coherent. Been there with the rest of them!”
His face holds steady—no emotion, “That’s true.”
She lunges at him, hair moving to the sides of her face, nails extended, fangs unleashed.
I dive and grab at her waist. She moves with such force that she drags me a few inches before we stop. Her arms and legs fling at Edgar, but can’t reach—hitting me in a barrage of elbows and heels on her backstrokes.
“Listen, Katrianna—listen! He’s leading us into their lair.”
“What?” she asks, huffing—heavy breaths.
“He’s taking us to where they are—where Ruby is. Have to get to her. Have to get to her now—before anything happens to her.”
“They won’t hurt her as long as the silly one is with you.”
“Not true, Kat. They won’t kill her as long as Ambrosia’s with me. They can still hurt her a whole lot.”
My voice breaks at the end. Kat doesn’t seem to notice, but Edgar’s eyebrows rise at the sound.
“How can you trust this savage? This ungrateful beast—healed him—fed him—and he told them right where to find me—to find my babies.”