"What's all this?" Mr. Locklyn stepped into the kitchen where his daughter was packing a lunch. Her bulging backpack slumped on one of the dining room chairs.
"No need to call me in today. I'm going back to school," Irene announced as she cut up some apple slices, spritzing them with lemon juice. Her father snagged a piece and popped it in his mouth.
"I am glad you are feeling better, Kiddo. You know where your doctor's note is, right?"
"I'll be fine," Irene insisted as she filled her water bottle.
"Take it all the same, just in case," her father cautioned. With a sigh, Irene fetched the doctor's note and wove it in front of her father to appease him. He walked over and kissed the top of her head.
"Take care. I need to get to work. After school we'll go to the precinct."
As Irene was tying up her shoelaces, she heard footsteps behind her. She groaned and looked over her shoulder. There stood Cyrus, the last person she wanted to see. The sun had not yet fully risen, but he was cutting it close. Irene was certain that he was staring at her backside, and it made her skin crawl.
“Going back to school?” he inquired. Irene sighed and nodded her head. “Be sure to come back home before it gets dark.”
“Right…” Irene muttered as she lifted her school bag and left.
The day had just begun, but Irene was already tired upon arriving. Passing through the school lobby, a table set out with a brilliant red cloth caught her eye. She walked over to inspect it and saw portraits of Katie and Ashley, surrounded by flowers. Irene hadn't heard their fates, and it caught her off guard to see memorials to these two girls. But what about Tina?
Flashes from that horrid event assaulted Irene's mind. She put her hands to her ears in a futile gesture. Screaming! Moaning! Such pain and agony. Weak knees, shivering spine. Heat throbbed through her body, but spread out in icy echoes. Faces of her cellmates paraded behind her closed eyes. Irene let out a sharp sound that was neither a scream nor a gasp, but something in between.
Reality was reunited with her at the touch of a hand and the sound of her name. Irene hadn’t any idea how long she had been like that, nor how long someone had been calling to her. She opened her eyes and saw the concerned face of a friend.
“M-Merle…?” Irene muttered, uncertain. Merle had been all shades of red with her. However, Irene hadn’t the capacity at that moment to hold it against her. She sniffled, holding back a sob. Merle peered at Irene silently for a moment, then wrapped her arms around her. Irene didn't question, she placed her head on Merle's shoulder.
“Irene… now you are really starting to scare me…” Merle said in a shaky voice. Irene shook her head and looked down.
“I’ll be fine… I need to get to class,” Irene finally managed to mutter. Merle shook her head vehemently, clutching Irene’s shoulders.
“No, we’re going to take a walk! It’s only P.E. after all!”
Irene stared at her friend, wide eyed. “I can’t skip…”
“Irene, a smudge on your record won’t kill you! You need a friend right now, and I'm here” Merle coaxed.
After a moment's hesitation, Irene meekly nodded. Merle took that opportunity to seize her arm and lead them outside to a shady patch of trees. The silver birches were almost naked and offered little cover, but the Japanese maple still had brilliant red leaves clinging desperately to its branches.
“No one should bother us here.” Merle stepped over some overgrown foliage. She sat down on an old bench, and patted a spot beside her. Reluctantly, Irene sat down. “I couldn’t get anything from Jordan when I asked him about you… since I figured if you weren’t gonna talk to me, you’d at least talk to him…” Merle gave a unilateral shrug.
Irene barely nodded as she let out a stony gaze towards the tree in front of her. “Jordan…” Irene repeated softly. Irritation resurfaced, remembering Cyrus's observation that Merle visited Jordan more than her. However, she wasn't going to rise to the bait. They were all friends, and she trusted Jordan. There was no room for jealousy.
Merle cocked her head to the side, staring at Irene curiously. Since only silence followed, she took it as her cue to continue. “He seemed really worried about you though. I don’t blame him. Irene, you’ve been in the hospital, and I haven’t heard why."
Irene lifted her head, raising her eyebrows. She turned her head to stare at Merle, her eyebrows furrowed. “I thought you were still mad at me.”
Merle’s large eyes also narrowed for a moment, before she let them pop to their usual wideness. “Oh, you know me, I'm always flying off my handle," she shrugged and folded her arms. "But when have I ever stayed mad long?” Her tempestuous friend shook her head. "You looked like you were about to break down. Is this because of the dead girl's pictures? Is it reminding you of losing Monica?"
"No! It's not that!" Irene blurted, not wanting anything in the present to touch her sacred memories. The teenagers stared at one another. Following a silent interval, Merle leaned in closer, with wide, expectant eyes. Irene sighed and glanced down. “I was thinking about Ashley and Katie,” Irene finally admitted.
Merle’s eyes grew even wider, and they seemed to dominate her round face. “But you didn't really know any of them,” she leaned closer still, wrapping an arm about Irene's shoulders.
“No, not really. But... Tina, Keith's step-sister, also died recently too. It's just too much.”
Merle shook her head and continued to press on Irene. “Are you sure this isn't about Monica?”
Irene let out an aggravated sigh. “This is nothing like that. Monica died peacefully, lobed, surrounded by family. But these girls, they died horrific deaths,” Irene growled. She whipped her head around to stare fiercely into Merle’s bewildered eyes. “Why couldn't they have been saved, too?”
Merle pulled back away from Irene, cringing from the sudden outburst. “What do you mean? Saved too?”
Irene relaxed, letting the tension flow out of her frame. With a sigh, all the aggression in her mannerisms deflated, leaving a defeated looking Irene. “Never mind. I just... I don't know." She shook her head and rubbed her eyes.
"Something's going on. Do you... do you know something about their deaths that I don't? Or... is there someone else you're thinking of? Who needs to be saved? Are you in trouble, Irene?
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The shaken teenager's mouth opened and closed a few times, an elastic feeling in her jaw and a throbbing in her skull. "I might be. A bit. But... don't worry, really, don't. Dad and I are going to deal with it soon." Irene wrapped her arms around herself, and felt her friend pull her close.
"Hey, hey, you know you can talk to me right?"
Irene gave Merle a sideways glance. No, because you always get too emotional and jump to crazy conclusions. She sighed. "I am right now."
"I mean really talk to me. Tell me about your troubles," Merle urged.
"I don't want to say anything until it's resolved."
This time it was the red-haired friend's turn to sigh heavily. "Fine. Whatever. But I bet this has something to do with Cyrus, doesn't it?"
Irene shook her head and stared up at the sky. “I wish I had never met Cyrus…” She curled in her lips for a moment, thinking about all of the unsettling chaos she had been through since that morning in the woods. Mornings had always been sacred to her, and he defiled it.
“Really… because the way you two were walking so close to each other that one evening…” Merle muttered.
Irene turned and glanced at her sharply. “He was walking close to me,” she clarified, a bit of injury in her tone. She then frowned and rubbed her temples with her hands. “Listen Merle, I can’t tell you everything, but Cyrus is a bad man, and he’s associated with criminals who hurt those girls. I don't know what the news said, but I doubt it's the truth.”
“This sounds like something right out of a movie, Irene,” Merle reflected. She had a peculiar smirk on her face, as though she was uncertain whether to be excited or skeptical.
“I’m not lying.”
“Of course you aren't! But it's thrilling!” Merle exclaimed, a twinkle in her eyes.
Irene drew away, a look of contempt tugging at her lips. “This is serious!"
Merle flinched, and stared at Irene for a long moment. She sobered up a little, a gentle blush fading onto her freckled cheeks. “Sorry,” Merle stood up and stretched. “Well, alright, you can’t tell me everything… I just wish you would have told me at least THIS much sooner.”
Irene shook her head and also got onto her feet. “I’m going to P.E. now.” A doctor's note was not going to excuse her from tardiness. "But... thanks for the talk, Merle. You're right, I do need a friend." Irene just needed someone who wasn't seeking vicarious thrills through her suffering. However, she didn't wish to set off another tantrum by pointing this out.
"Any time, Irene."
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Irene tossed her gym clothes into her locker and slammed it shut. She was tired from the laps she had to walk as punishment for missing the first quarter of class. Normally it would have been easy for her, but her stay in the hospital had affected her more than she thought.
Nearby a gaggle of gossipers were milling out their usual rumours. Normally, Irene would ignore them, but then something caught her attention.
“Yes, Katie’s dad is going nuts over her death!" spoke a curvy blonde.
“Well can you blame him? I’d be heartbroken if I lost my only daughter,” another chimed in, twirling her curly brown hair between her tanned fingers.
“Well, word is that Katie’s dad won’t even talk to her uncle until he finds the person responsible. She was an excellent swimmer and he insists she didn't drown,” the fairest of the group twittered.
“What does he expect? These things take time. Besides, they are focusing on catching Ashley's killer.”
“Well, if we had a decent police force, things like this could be prevented. I had no idea we had sickos around here, though,” a third finally piped in, pulling a bright yellow shirt on which contrasted brilliantly with her dark skin.
“There are people like that everywhere!” the sporty brunette added, exasperated. "Besides, remember that psycho pig farmer from PoCo?"
"Yes but that's not here!" the girl in the yellow shirt shot back as she fixed her black hair into a frizzy bun.
The blonde ringleader tied her shoelaces, then looked up and continues to dispense a juicy revelation. “There's rumours that Ashley and Katie's deaths might be connected, somehow. They both didn't come home the same night, according to Jim."
"Jim?"
"Katie's cousin."
"Oh. Maybe. But Ashley was always running away. I still think her creepy ex did it. But he'd have no reason to stab Ashley, then drown Katie. She was such a goodie-good, and Ashley, well, was not." The frizzy-haired girl concluded. The blonde nodded in agreement.
The tanned teen glanced over at Irene. “Speaking of goodie-goods..." she remarked, and the other girls looked as well. Irene busied herself with tying her own shoes. "Come on, let’s talk somewhere else."The trio of girls nodded in agreement, grabbed their bags, and left.
Irene sighed. So, they made one girl appear as an overdose, one as an accidental drowning, and let another be a murder? Irene tapped the toe of her shoe on the ground to get a more snug fit. Why not make them all appear as accidents? Unless Gabriel and his men were getting sloppy.
Irene picked up her school bag and left the changing room.
All through math class the topic of Katie and Ashley buzzed around her. No one said anything about Tina. Irene tried to hide within herself as she worked through a very wordy math problem. She wished that all she could think of were the cost of tennis balls and golf balls, or how much distance a canoe traveled in a river with a fast current. However, it was to no avail. Katie and Ashley’s names followed her.
Irene's preoccupation with the girls, and with trying to avoid a similar fate caused her to forget she had agreed to go to the police after school. Instead, she walked to the public library. She was determined to research mistletoe.
After a long study session, Irene stretched and leaned back in her chair. She never knew much about mistletoe other than people kissed beneath it at Christmas. But learning its power over vampires was oddly ironic, considering the plant itself was a vampire of the botanical world. It drank the life out of its host tree, remaining young and vibrant in the winter while its host withered and shed its leaves.
Culturally, mistletoe was regarded as a very sacred plant, despite it being a weed by modern standards. Myths of mistletoe, killing the unkillable Baldur, being the substance of Christ's cross, or allowing Aenas access to the underworld all seemed to point to a connection to life and death, not just for the mortal but the divine as well. It left Irene wondering... just what is a vampire? Irene doubted any of the books had an answer.
Irene's next task was to research if mistletoe could be found locally. To her disappointment, the most common form of mistletoe found in British Columbia was invasive dwarf mistletoe, known for its explosive green berries. She was unsure if all mistletoe was effective against vampires, or only Viscum Album, the white-berried mistletoe found in Europe.
Irene's next step was to hit the computers. But there was a waiting list to use one. Irene sighed, looking out the window. It was getting dark. She could not risk staying much longer. She gathered up her notes and left, hurrying for the closest bus station.
The wait for the bus was nerve wracking. The sun had already sunk behind the mountains, casting a long shadow over the valley she lived in. Irene anchored herself by clinging onto a sign post. By the time the bus did show up, she realized how cold and sore her hand had become. Although it wasn't a long bus ride to her own neighbourhood, it was mostly dark when she got off. She walked as fast as she could, her heart racing. When she turned onto her home street, she nearly choked. She had been abducted from here before. Regardless of the instructions to take it easy, Irene broke into a run.