Blackwater VIII
The Rabbit, the Snake
Just as the Bottom-Feeders closed in, a light exploded in the distance.
A car swerved. Its gears churned in water, sending up a white spray. Speakers blared music, some obnoxious 1980s pop song that Jack did not recognize.
Jack grinned as he caught sight of the driver.
Money leaned out the window. “Run!” he yelled. “And when you get topside, enjoy the sunlight for me!”
“Who’s that?” yelled Sari over the din.
“That’s Money!” Jack answered. “He’s the other half of the plan!”
The creatures turned toward the vehicle, snarling.
Jack watched as they began to stumble toward it. Realizing this was the opportunity that he was meant to seize, he shouted, “back to the lobby!”
Sari entered first. She swung the door open and entered with her face turned back to check that Jack was following. Hundreds of thousands of dollars of training were forgotten when it counted. Jack could’ve cursed.
To prove his point, something darted forward. Jack’s eyes widened. “Duck!” he yelled.
She did.
The bottom-feeder lunge was cut short by the shotgun’s blast. It gave a final twitch and was still.
For a moment, they stood there, staring at the unfortunate creature. Then, Sari whirled to Jack with a snarl. “I had him! I had him!”
Jack gaped at her, leaning over to catch his breath. “Huh?”
“I didn’t need help!”
“And hello to you too,” he grumbled, straightening. He shut the lobby door, mentally wishing the flooded orchard a very happy goodbye.
He cast his eyes around the room. The carpet was mossy now. On the mantlepiece, the deer’s head had begun to rot. Jack noticed the deafening silence. No music.
Meanwhile, Sari continued to glare. “What are you doing here, anyway?” she demanded.
Jack laughed incredulously. “What do you mean what am I doing here? What are you doing here?”
Sari paused, blinking. “I’m… I’m fixing something.”
Jack felt his prickliness subside. “You came to get me?” he asked.
“I…” she trailed off. “I don’t really know.”
‘Get a grip and be professional’ was what Jack wanted to say, but the words died in his throat before he could speak them.
Maybe she didn’t want to say she cared. Whatever.
It was better not to fight.
Jack took stock of his weapons. The pistol had worked in the orchard—of that he made a mental note. It was still unreliable against the Riptide.
Sari leaned heavily against a nearby pillar, face pale. Her lips moved without sound. She was talking to herself. Jack’s concern grew.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
She turned her face away. “M’fine,” she muttered.
He glanced down at her arm. “You’re hurt.”
Sari followed his gaze to the deep gash. “Oh.”
When Jack approached, he saw that the flesh around it had blackened. He turned her arm to take a better look. Strange viscous fluid was seeping from the wound. His brows knitted. “How long have you been here?” he asked.
Sari shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“How did you get here?”
She pointed skyward with her free hand. “Fell. Drowned.”
Releasing her arm, Jack gave Sari a once-over. Though they’d never been particularly close, he knew her well enough to find this behavior decidedly odd. Her wide unblinking eyes reminded him of Koen.
“I taste apples,” she said suddenly.
“What?”
“Apples.”
Jack rubbed his knuckle along his jaw. There must be some sort of effect on the physical body in this place, thought Jack. He wished he could ask Money what to do.
Once more he asked, “Sari, how did you get here?”
“The exit,” she answered, pointing to the elevator. Its doors were opened, yellow light flickering.
Jack felt his stomach churn. “No, Sari, that’s a trap. You must’ve come through a fissure. Where was it?”
“Fissure? I don’t remember.”
Jack released a heavy sigh. In a way, he was relieved for the company. Taking care of someone else meant he didn’t need to focus on the fear.
“It’s alright,” he assured. Reaching out, he took her by the elbow. “Come with me, there’s a way out through the forest. If we’re quiet this time, we can make it.”
She snatched her arm from Jack’s grip. He turned to see her standing in the middle of the lobby, a queer look on her face.
“I can leave whenever I want,” Sari whispered.
Jack attempted to reason with her. “But this isn’t your head, Sari.”
She took a step toward the elevator. “I can do it. I am in control. I am in control.”
Jack advanced and placed himself between her and the elevator. “Sari,” he warned. “Don’t do it. We need to stick together.”
She faked him out before ducking beneath his arm. Jack grabbed her again. Twisting back, Sari sunk her teeth into his forearm.
Jack let out a shout of pain. “Sari, you’re being crazy!” That was an understatement, but it was all Jack could think to say.
They struggled a moment.
Sari aggressively grabbed his face, eyes wide. Another voice layered over hers, a child’s voice. “Say you’re sorry, Jack. Show me you’re sorry by staying with me!”
Jack tried to pry her from him. “Stop it!”
“Benji! Benji! Benji! Benji! Benji! Benji! Benji! Benji!” she screamed. “You forgot even my name!?”
The shadow loomed over Sari’s shoulder. With a gasp, Jack felt the very ground beneath his feet fall away.
Jack was eight years old. From the seat beside his father in the ER, he asked, “Is Benji okay?”
His father wouldn’t look at him. “No, Jack. Benjamin is not okay.”
He was following his father, crying the hardest he’d ever cried. “I’m sorry, daddy! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”
Jack was lost in the dark. He felt very small and confused. Before this, he was somewhere else. Jack looked down at his hands—that of a child. Wasn’t he bigger than this?
The boy looked about, eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Dad?”
A tiny rabbit approached. It did a little turn and invited him to follow.
Little Jack stumbled backward. He did not like the animal. It was all wrong, a lie.
“You’re a liar!” screamed Jack. “Liar! Liar!”
He felt sick.
In response, the rabbit grew taller and taller. Its snow-white snout elongated and stretched, front teeth sharpening into fangs. A dreadful hiss emanated from all around. Red eyes blinked, pupils serpentine. At once, it was predator and prey.
“I am a god! I am the Riptide!”
Jack recoiled in horror.
There was a hand on his shoulder, warm and strong. Jack could smell pine trees and fresh air—like the first time he’d entered the Undertow or when he’d shot the Riptide.
His father’s voice spoke. “Don’t jerk the trigger, squeeze it.”
Memory slipped into something new. Jack could see the stars open up before him.
One,
two,
three points of light.
He ran toward it and away from the terrible rabbit. As Jack approached them, he felt lighter, his strides longer and more powerful. He grew, his thoughts solidified—freed from childhood.
Yet the stars never neared.
Jack halted, panting. He watched as the lights arranged themselves from East to West: Alnitak, Alnilam, and Mintaka. The girdle, that string of pearls, the belt!
Was this the Riptide? But he didn’t feel the awful seasickness that usually accompanied the entity.
His father’s voice continued: “And you will carry the fire and the wood and you shall be my archer.”
Two women locked in battle, made of stars. In death, they lived and by living they died.
The world moved beneath Jack’s feet, no not the world. The black pool became scales and Sari wasn’t exactly Sari anymore. Her skin took on a frightening pallor, eyes shining with a mad light. A black snake wound her limbs. They fed on the dark waters. She opened her mouth, but the words spoken were not her own.
“Control and chaos belong to me!”
“I don’t know what to do,” whispered Jack.
His father’s voice: “The time is not now, the serpent will return to you for breaking.”
And then the vision ended.
Everything was still. Sari gripped his sleeves, shaking so badly Jack was frightened she’d bite her tongue. Jack found he was too.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she cried.
Jack took both her hands in his. He could hear himself speaking as though through a long tunnel. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”
Jack hugged her.
When she’d quieted and they pulled away from each other, Jack said, “We need to come up with a plan.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. Sari winced. “I never should’ve come,” she said. “I’m so stupid.”
“Don’t think about it,” urged Jack. “What’s done is done. We’ve got to find a way out now.”
Sari nodded.
Then, Jack watched Sari’s gaze shift to something behind him. Her brown eyes widened. She gasped and smacked her forehead. “I know where I fell!”
“Where!?”
“The fireplace,” she revealed. “Over there!”
Jack looked. It sat dark. Above, the eyeless deer guarded the portal with its terrible antlers. Certainly it was large enough for Sari to come through. It might not be so for him. Jack pressed his lips together.
Once he’d caught his breath, he guided Sari by her shoulders. “Let’s go,” he said.
“Wait.”
“What?”
Sari swallowed visibly, eyes darting away. “If… something like that happens again. If it doesn’t stop—”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
“Jack—”
“No, you’ve always wanted to be a hero. Well, guess what? Not today. You’re not lead, I’m lead and we’re both walking out of here. After this, we’re arresting Dr. K. Can’t wait to see that stupid face behind bars. You think he’ll still get botox in prison?”
Sari was not amused. “You don’t understand,” she said. “It’s… it’s in my head.”
“It was in mine too. The feeling you’re having right now fades, I promise. You’ll be fine once we leave.”
She looked unconvinced.
“You’ll be fine,” Jack repeated. He forced himself to believe it as he said once more: “You’ll be fine.”
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed.
I don’t think she’ll be fine. Things have escalated considerably 👏
Rabbits again! It took me probably until five minutes ago to remember that the "underground chickens" have their associations with death, even maybe as companions on the journey from one world to the next. It makes the earlier tie-in of Peter Rabbit (and Benjamin Bunny?) extra creepy, in a way that makes sense as well. (That series gets *bleak*. 4yo enjoyed Peter Rabbit, was ok with Benjamin Bunny but had some concerns about Peter's obvious PTSD, and refused to finish Flopsy Bunnies after the babies get shut up in the oven.)