The Dead House, стр. 46

“It was getting tedious.”

Naida grins at Kaitlyn’s weak attempt at humor. “God damn, Johnson.”

Kaitlyn takes a sip of her tea, and her skin seems to warm a bit, the gray alabaster flushing with a little peach. She glances up, towards the door, where a short, knotted rope wound with numerous materials that the camera cannot differentiate hangs.

“What is that?”

“A bind. Protection for you. It’ll stop the dreams.”

“Will it work?”

“Should. It’s got my own blood in there, so it’d better.”

Kaitlyn flinches. “Was that necessary?”

“Wouldn’t do it otherwise.”

Kaitlyn nods and sips her tea again.

“What’s up, sugar?”

“How much longer?”

Naida sighs and pressed her hands to her face. “I don’t know. I’m getting closer, I think. This is new for me—I’ve never conjured or done root work before. There’s a lot to learn, to go through… And I’m tailing Mike… I’m trying my best.”

“It’s just…” Kaitlyn shudders. “Whatever’s going on inside me, it’s getting worse. I don’t know, closer. It’s getting harder to cope.”

Naida says nothing, and Kaitlyn continues.

“And I was thinking… maybe… maybe medication will help. Maybe all I need is the right kind, the right dose—maybe… maybe I am—”

“Crazy? You can’t really believe that, can you? What about that house you keep dreaming about? And where’s Carly, huh? And why did I find this”—Naida pulls out a stiff knot of… something from her bag—“outside my dorm this morning, huh?”

Kaitlyn leans away from it. “It reeks—what is it?”

“Oh, just the intestines of some poor creature, knotted into a conjure to keep me immobile.”

“What?”

“It’s a warning. From whoever’s doing this.”

Kaitlyn swallows. “It’s easier not to believe.”

“We will get through this.”

Kaitlyn dashes away a tear. “I feel alone, Naida. I don’t know if I feel Carly anymore. It’s like she’s locked away where I can’t get at her. I don’t have anyone else.”

Naida takes her hand. “You have me.”

Kaitlyn bites her lips and nods, blinking hard. “I’m scared.”

“I know. But this isn’t going to get easier before it gets better. I need you strong. So drink up that tea.”

Kaitlyn eyes the cup suddenly. “What did you put in it?”

“Something to make you strong.”

Kaitlyn nods, and then drinks.

[END OF CLIP]

Naida Camera Footage

Tuesday, 4 January 2005, 9:00 PM

Naida’s Dorm

Naida kneels on the floor before her camera and clasps her hands, bowing low over them. A candle, lit somewhere below the screen, casts an orange light on her face, accentuating her angular features. She looks tired, worn, and scared. But there is a fire in her bright eyes as she looks up, hinting at her determination.

“Blessed Gorro, guide me,” she whispers. “Mother Karrah, hold me close. By your powerful intercession, hear me.” She lifts a small brown root for the camera to see and snaps it in half. “Here is earthroot, to break conjures against me. Devil’s heart”—she lifts a small purple flower—“to protect me from those who work against me. Master root”—she lifts a bark-like formation—“to aid my psychic powers. And currency”—a silver coin—“to plow over my enemies and the enemies of my friends.”

She bows her head for a moment, then opens her Bible and begins to read.

“‘Arise, O Lord, in thine anger, lift up thyself because of the rage of mine enemies: and awake for me to the judgment that thou hast commanded… My defense is of God, which saveth the upright in heart.’” She flips through a few pages. “‘Thy tongue deviseth mischiefs; like a sharp razor, working deceitfully.… God shall likewise destroy thee forever, he shall take thee away, and pluck thee out of thy dwelling place, and root thee out of the land of the living.’”

She lifts her gaze into the camera; she is looking directly at us.

“I curse you, dark worker and thief. I lift up a mighty shield against you and point a knife at your neck. You will relent, you will fall, and we will find Carly and bring her back. I hope you’re afraid, you son of a bitch. You should be.”

She reaches forward and switches off the camera.

74 28 days until the incident

Diary of Kaitlyn Johnson

Wednesday, 5 January 2005, 9:51 pm

Attic

I think I was beginning to lose myself to despair. I kept thinking, Did I dream her? Did I imagine her? Was she ever here at all?

But the dead girl came to me. I opened my eyes, and there she was, standing in the doorway. I never noticed before, but she’s wet. She raised one thin arm and motioned me to follow with her finger; her eyes were wide and sad, but she was still grinning. So I felt afraid.

But I didn’t care what happened, because what could be worse?

She took me upstairs, step by creaking step. I was a little dizzy and unsteady on my feet, and in quite some pain, but followed nonetheless. We haunted the corridors of the school, two specters of nothing, and I forgot to question where she was leading me.

The walls seem sad, which scares me. They seem to cry; I want to scream. But then I was in a classroom and the grinning girl was standing on a desk, her dead flesh dripping everywhere, and I knew I had to look inside.

And there it was. Carly’s journal.

When I looked up, she was two inches from my face, grinning at me with haunted yellow eyes. She said something, but there was no sound. It looked like “see what I found?” And then she was gone, walking away down the silent corridor, flickering in and out, like something about to crack and topple over.

And here I sit with it in my hands. It feels like an ancient relic of someone dead. The only piece left of them. Of her. That’s when it hit me, Dee. If I don’t get Carly back, she’s dead. She’s gone forever.

I can’t live like that.

There’s so much I want to tell her. I flipped to the back of her journal and wrote inside. Maybe, somewhere, somehow, she can see it.

Carly,

Nothing is the same without you. I eat because I need the strength to find you. I sleep because now my body forces me to. But it’s meaningless, like a movie set. I play a part, but there is no substance. I go home to nothing at the end of the scene.

I wish you could see how you’ve brought Naida and me together.

I wish you could see Ari… the things he’s revealed in me. What I’ve done. I’m sorry, so sorry, but I wouldn’t change it even if I could, because it saved me. He saved me. I was falling into a blackness without you that was darker than the world I lived in before. He reached into that darkness with his beautiful, strong hand, and he pulled me up. He continues to prop me up.

I think I love him. I want nothing more than to be able to tell you this. To believe that you can see these words and know that they’re true. But I would give him up if it would bring you back.

I’d give up anything for you.

Please come home. There’s a gap inside me waiting to be filled, and the longer you’re absent, the closer I feel something… other coming. The harder it will be to keep this space open, ready to receive you.