The Weight of Blood (84)

Michael: Was it Maddy?

Cole: I don’t know, maybe. I don’t recall ever hearing her voice before. She didn’t really do much talking at school.

Michael: How did you get out?

Cole: Last thing I remember was slipping and falling in a puddle of water . . . or I thought it was water. It wasn’t. It was blood. They found several types of blood on me. I must have walked out back, into the trees, and just kept walking. Didn’t remember hearing an explosion, ambulances, alarms, or nothing. The next thing I knew, I was in the hospital. When I told my folks what I saw, they told me to keep quiet. Said that door knocked me into that wall real good and I was seeing things. Had a knot on the back of my head to prove it. But I know what I saw. That’s why I think you’re right. I think she’s still alive.

Michael: Why do you think that?

Cole: ’Cause I can still hear her. In my head. All the time.

May 31, 2014

“—Oh God! Here she comes—”

Maddy walked out of the country club, the building on fire behind her. No one noticed. Not right away. They were still dealing with the shock of flying cars, bleeding ears, and dead bodies. She ambled in a trance, her steps stiff, eyelids frozen open, vaguely aware of the screaming around her. The busted police cruiser radios, full of static, roared as she neared. A girl screamed at the sight of her, others ran in every direction. Some tried to scramble back to their own vehicles that wouldn’t start.

“—Shoot her! Someone shoot her!—”

She could hear everyone’s mean thoughts about her, echoing through her skull.

The red-and-white arm of the train-crossing bar came down, a bell dinging, caution lights flashing. In the distance, a train whistle blew.

Maddy stumbled toward the tracks, her feet heavy as a voice screamed her name.

Mrs. Morgan.

“Maddy! Wait! Maddy!”

Maddy stepped around the gate arm, headed for the road toward town. The ground rumbled as the train made its way around the bend. She stepped over a metal rail, her shoes catching on the wooden track.

“Maddy! MADDY!”

“—Fuck her—”

Maddy swayed, the voices making her head hurt.

“—Someone throw her into the train—”

The train headlights beamed off her skin, the white paint glowing, streaks of blood running down her face and hands.

“Maddy!” Mrs. Morgan screamed while others watched, waiting with bated breath.

“—Kill her. Please let it kill her! Please—”

“No,” Maddy mumbled sleepily, turning toward the headlights. And she did nothing but flick her wrist before the train jerked, hitting an invisible wall. Train cars smashed into one another like crushed soda cans, shrieking, bending metal mixing with screams. The train cars rolled into the Barn parking lot, mowing over scrambling students. The last car derailed, flying into the air and crashing onto its side, skating fifty feet into the trees, ripping power lines that sparked like fireworks before exploding into a firebomb of heat and smoke, blinding everyone left alive. Within seconds, the lights went out in all of Springville. Mrs. Morgan stumbled to her feet through the growing black plume, coughing, lungs full of soot as a piece of flying metal whipped through the air like a frisbee, slicing off the top of her head. She stopped, fell to her knees, and flopped over, her brain leaking onto the gravel.

Maddy didn’t notice any of it. She was already walking home, the raging fire lighting her way through the dark.

As soon as Mr. Washington heard the alarm in the distance and the power went out seconds later, he knew his daughter had something to do with it. The moment had been inevitable since the day she was born.

Over the years, he’d considered all the ways he would kill her. So many times he had left her in the crib to starve, or in a fast-filling bathtub. But his weakness was an affliction. His mother had reminded him of that often. “Nothing but a weak, useless boy in a man’s skin.”

He’d thought he could control his child’s destiny. That feeding her God’s word and wholesome values would cast the devil out of her. But he knew then, as the alarm blared, that she was beyond salvation. She was no longer his daughter.

Resolve hardened in his stomach, a heavy aching knot. He knelt at his altar, praying for strength. The Lord would not give him more than he could bear. If the Lord could sacrifice his only son . . . he could sacrifice his only daughter.

Thomas rose to his feet, the alarm blaring in the distance. He procured his father’s revolver from a tin lunch box in his office, loaded four bullets, sat in his chair, and waited for his Madison to come home.





Twenty-Five


MADDY DID IT

EPISODE 10, CONT.

Michael [narration]: Rebecca Longhorn, or Becky, was at Sal’s Pizzeria during Prom Night.

Becky Longhorn: Some juniors stayed out past curfew to catch the seniors on their way to the after-parties. Kinda like a sneak peek of what life would be like for us the following year. It was the one night a year that Sal’s stayed open past closing time. My sister, Kat, was at the All-Together prom. We were really close. We had made plans to meet at Sal’s, so my mom dropped me off. Then, probably around nine p.m., Kat sent me a picture of Maddy.

Michael [narration]: Kat’s photo is known for being one of the last and only photos taken of Maddy Washington at prom.