Devils Unto Dust(73)

“Willie,” Curtis says when the soft footsteps have faded away. He puts his hand on my shoulder. “We have to go. More will come.”

I slowly let Micah’s hand fall away, tucking it gently against his side. Sam helps me to my feet and I lean heavily on him and see for the first time the carnage spread out around us. There are bodies everywhere, strewn across the red dirt like some beast’s innards. My knife is still sticking out of the chest of the one I killed; I pull it out and it’s slippery in my hand. This can’t be all the shakes left in Silver; Curtis is right, there are more out there and the smell of blood will have them running.

“I can’t leave him like this,” I say.

“Will—”

“I can’t leave his body here for the shakes. They’ll turn it inside out, Sam, I won’t let that happen to my brother.”

“We don’t have time to bury him,” Curtis says gently.

“Burn him,” Ben says. I look up, but he won’t meet my eyes. “It’s all we can do.”

Sam looks gutted, but I’m beyond that now. I’m beyond sick and heartbroken and I’m beyond help.

“Do it,” I say.

The only thing I take is the damn pocket watch that doesn’t even run. Micah’s sleeve catches fire easily, like it was waiting all along for the flame. His clothes burn quickly, his shirt threadbare and thin from how often I’ve washed it. He doesn’t look peaceful; people always say that about the dead. Micah doesn’t look peaceful, he doesn’t look like he’s sleeping, he looks empty and pale and strange. He looks lonely. He looks dead.

It’s hard to stay standing, even with Sam’s help, but I do it for Micah. I watch long enough to make sure he’ll be safe from the shakes. Sam and Curtis stand on either side of me and Ben is close at my back, three attentive guards to watch over me. It’s kind, their concern, but unnecessary; nothing can hurt me anymore. The feeling I had, the badness, it’s over and done. All I feel now is hollow.

My face is tight with dried tears, but I don’t remember when I stopped crying. I turn away from Micah’s body, the smell making me choke back bile.

“We have to go now, Will,” Sam says gently.

“I know,” I say, and pat his shoulder. “Be safe.”

He looks at me, confused, and I almost smile; he thinks I’m going with them. It’s too late for that. Micah’s gone, Pa’s gone, it’s all too late. I let go of Sam and reel back, my body folding in on itself. Ben catches me by the arms and slowly lowers me until I’m sitting on the ground.

“Willie, are you all right?” Sam kneels in front of me. “What is it?”

My brother is dead and it’s my fault. I’m turning into what killed him. I don’t know how to answer, so instead I blink at him.

“Give this to the twins.” I hold out the pocket watch and the few paltry dollars from Pa. “Tell them that I love them and take them to Elsie. She’ll know what to do.”

“I don’t understand—”

“You should go now,” I say slowly, my tongue thick.

“Will, can you hear me?”

“What’s wrong with her?” Ben sounds concerned, and it’s sweet of him to care. I don’t deserve that.

“I lied,” I tell Sam. My voice sounds very loud in my ears. “I don’t have any money.” I lift my head up to find Curtis. “I can’t pay you.”

“That—that don’t matter now,” Curtis says.

“You were right about me,” I say to Ben. “You were right from the get-go.” He frowns at me, his mouth tight.

I wish they would just go. I don’t want to get up. I can’t walk anymore. I don’t want anxious faces looking over with their pitying eyes and their worried voices. I want to be alone with my grief and my guilt.

“Will, come on now, it’s time to get up.” Sam pats me on the shoulder twice, but I brush him off.

“No,” I say, the word coming out slurred. No to getting up. No to pressing on. No to everything. This is my line in the sand; this where I stop fighting. My vision is starting to go gray and dim, like all the color is being washed from the world.

“I think she’s in shock,” Sam says, glancing back.

“That ain’t it,” Ben says, suddenly wary. He kneels down and pushes Sam out of the way. “Look at me,” he says, grasping my chin in his hand. “Were you bitten?”

I try to focus on his face, but it’s difficult. My eyes are blurring in and out, the world narrowing to two small pinpoints.

“Were you bitten?”

I find this outrageously funny, and I can’t help but laugh. They don’t get the joke; I peel back my sleeve and shove my hand out so they can see what’s so funny.

Sam hisses in his breath. “You said it was healing.”

“I told you I’m a liar.” The Garretts back up, looking at me in horror, and that only makes me laugh the harder.

“Let me see it,” Sam says, but Curtis grabs him by the shoulders.

“Don’t,” he says roughly. “Don’t touch her.”

The laughter dies in my throat.

“How long?” Ben asks, stone-faced.

“Long enough,” I say.