Chapter Nineteen

Cass finds Drew's body, but before she can properly mourn, things take an unexpected turn. 

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Some of this podcast has been recorded on equipment from the Billings Public Library Co+Lab. Thanks to Renee Barratt of The Cover Counts for the cover design. Music by Mikhail Smusev from Pixabay.

Transcript

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Welcome back to the serialized podcast production of the Scarring Underneath, written and performed by T. S. Dickerson. Chapter nineteen. Billy Lena Cass called as she ran up to the paddock. Billy Where the hell were they? She had seen Lena down in the crowd speaking up for her of all things, but where was Billy? How could he not have heard all the commotion? Bark, bark, bark. Maybe he couldn't hear it over Brick's incessant barking. Light running footsteps approached her. Cass turned as Lena ran up. Oh, thank God, she said. What's first? Lena asked, climbing over the fence and heading for the nearest horse. Cass was glad to know she could count on Lena despite her anger. We need to get the driving horses hitched up right away and get the wagons loaded. Then just every saddle and pack on as quick as you can, but it's gotta be right. We might be riding all night. Bark, bark, bark. Lena nodded as she led a horse by the halter. Cass reached for a horse herself, but her hands were shaking. She needed to know where Billy was, and Brick wasn't helping her nerves. Shut up, Brick, she said, looking around for the dog. A thrill of panic went through her gut. What if he was barking because there was trouble? Could John and the others have circled back and seen them packing up? She spotted Brick still tied to the old signpost where she'd left him this morning. It was strange that Drew hadn't yet released the dog. She glanced from Brick down in the direction he was looking. No Drew. As she tied the horse to the nearest paddocked post, she looked toward the tents for him. She couldn't see much with all the people running about. She shielded her eyes and scanned the area by the lake. There was no one left down there. Cam was leading Cowboy toward her. Where's Drew? Bark, bark, bark. Cam paused and flipped Cowboy's reins around the paddock rail. I thought he'd be here, is he at the tents? I can't tell, Cass said. Shut that dog up, Cam said. Everyone's nervous enough as it is we don't need a panic and sloppy mistakes. I'll let him go to Drew, she said. Unsteady from her emotional mourning, she opted to crawl between the paddock rails instead of jumping them. In her rush, her shoulder cracked against the rail, and she cursed. Brick was straining against the lead rope he'd been tied with, and he began to whine and paw as she approached. Okay, okay, she said. She couldn't undo the latch because the dog was pulling the lead taut. Impatient, she grabbed his scruff and pulled him back. Just as the clasp came free, Brick whirled and snapped at her hand before taking off down to the lake. Ow, what the hell? Did he bite you? Lena called. Yeah. Cass glanced at her hand. The skin wasn't broken. She shook it, looking back up at Brick. The dog was nearly to the lake and veering left, into a stand of trees, barking the whole way. Hot panic spread in Cass's chest. Something's wrong. She charged down the road after the dog, arms pumping against her sides, willing her body to move faster. Her shoulder and her hand burned from the concussion of every step, and the hot wind in her face was blinding. She heard footsteps running after her, and Cam's voice calling out, asking what was wrong, but she didn't slow. As she jetted past the lake and headed toward the woods, she screamed. She meant to call for Brick, but instead, Drew's name left her lips. She charged into the trees without slowing, branches slicing her skin as she swerved around obstacles. Brick, she called. Come here, boy. Lena and Cam were both shouting for her now as they crashed through the trees behind her. She spotted a splash of red color to her left and adjusted her course toward it. Brick, she thought. But it wasn't brick. It was a streak of red on a tree trunk. Her eyes followed the trail of it down to a man's body, lying face up in the grass, jammed between a root and another tree trunk. Brick stood at the head, licking and nudging the face with his nose. Cass had been moving so fast she almost tripped over the familiar boots. She flung her body to the side and landed hard. The man's knee bent under her weight, and the grass made an unnatural sloshing sound. She rose up onto her hands and knees and crawled toward the body. That's what it was. It was a body. It was Drew's lifeless body. No, he can't be dead. Cass clambered almost on top of him, her hands gripping the bloody shirt as she worked her way up to his face. She grabbed his head. Brick shied away from her motion and laid down a few feet away. Drew, she shouted. Drew, wake up. She slipped one hand to his neck and felt for a pulse. The other hand pressed into his chest and pushed, rocking him slightly back and forth. Drew, come on, she said. It's not funny, Drew. Her voice cracked. She heard a sticky splash as Cam's foot slid through a puddle of Drew's blood. She could feel it soaking her clothes. Oh God, her brother said. He ducked around the tree whose root so offensively pressed into Drew's body, and knelt, replacing Cass's now limp hand with his own at the neck. Cass tucked her face against Drew's chest, and listened as her brother said what she so longed to deny. He's dead. The words echoed in her ears and became a steady ringing. She closed her eyes and let the world disappear. She focused on Drew's scent, trying to separate it from the sharp smell of his blood, so she could remember him untainted. Cass remembered nothing about her mother's death. When everyone else died in an apocalyptic blink, she'd been too busy trying to survive to think about all those losses. But Cam remembered her mother's death and he'd told her about it many times. He always said it was fuzzy. He'd been so young. He couldn't remember the funeral or the things people had said to him, couldn't put together a timeline. What he did remember were meaningless details, the color of the fabric on a chair he fell asleep in at the funeral home, the musty smell of the borrowed suit their father had worn, and hiding behind floral arrangements. Those things were weird, perhaps, but they were all nice things. As she laid against Drew's cooling body, Cass wondered what she would remember later. What gruesome, unwanted detail would haunt her. There was chaos all around her. People were crashing through the woods, bricks started barking again, someone stepped on her ankle, and twice people tried to pull her away from the body. There was constant talking. At first the voices had been soft and sympathetic, sharing facts in mournful tones. Now the voices were arguing. It all seemed to her to be happening at a distance. Oh she knew the voices were close, but it was almost as if she had pulled a thick blanket over herself and drew, shutting everyone out and keeping them muffled. She liked this fake distance, this soft ringing in her ears. But the illusion shattered when she heard Lena speak up over the steady murmur, silencing all other speakers. We need to find Billy. Cass's eyes opened, and she tuned into reality again. Cam was nodding, hands on his hips. We should, yeah. He can get Cass away from the body, away away from here. That's not what I mean, Lena said. Her voice was halting, hoarse. She was disturbed. What's that? Cass didn't dare turn her head to look at what her brother saw. She didn't want them to know she was listening. She didn't want to break her bubble completely. And maybe she already knew somehow and didn't want to see. Her fear was confirmed. Is that Conrad's knife? Cam asked. Billy's knife, Lena corrected, though for once there was no emotion in her voice. Darcy found it. In the trees over there. Cam sighed loudly. Oh God, has anyone seen him? He was washing something in the lake a bit ago. This voice was Derek's. I think he headed toward the tents. Find him, Cam growled. Lena, stay with her. The sound of retreating footsteps turned into the heavy, rapid thudding of Cass's heart. It couldn't be. Billy would never hurt Drew. Cass thought of getting up, chasing after them. She knew it wasn't Billy. She tried to think of how she would convince them. Billy hadn't had the knife. Not last night, not this morning while they'd argued, hadn't had it on him. It could have been in his tent. They'd been talking, he'd been with her until Drew came back. She hadn't seen him since. Still, everything in her screamed that it wasn't Billy. It couldn't have been. Billy could barely hit her when they sparred. Forget about taking a life. He was too kind. Cass? Alina's voice was close beside her. She felt the soft touch of a hand on her back. Can I help you at all? Can I do anything? Cass took in a deep breath, struggling to think. She needed to work this through, needed an answer. Okay, Lena said after a moment. The weight of the hand disappeared, and she heard Lena walk away. Cass glanced up as the girl lowered herself into the grass beside Brick, running a hand over the dog's back. Billy was kind. Billy was naive. Or was he just acting? Drew had trusted him. He could have gotten close to him. But could he have gotten the drop on him, really? Cass set up so quickly it startled bark out of Brick and a gasp out of Lena. She squirmed backward and began to examine Drew's body. There was one wound on the side she'd been lying on, but following the blood, judging where the pool of it had come from, there had to be another. His leg at the point of the groin, femoral artery. But if that were all, Drew would have seen his attacker, might have fought him off. It was hard to fake being an inexperienced fighter, hard to hide that from a sparring partner, and harder still to hide when someone had a knife to your throat. Cass, what are you doing? Unless you're sure no one will hurt you, if you're working with the guy who's holding the knife. Cass, what are you looking at? Help me turn him over, Cass said. She began to rotate Drew's body, trying to see his back. What? Cass Lena got up and came over, but stood away from the body as if she didn't want to touch it. Damn it, Lena. Cass gave up and grunted, forcing Drew's body up alone. She held its weight with one arm locked out, and ran her free hand over his back, touching the bloody fabric and the wound there. She probed into the wound with her fingers. Cassidy, Lena yelled. The wound was deep, sure, angled upwards to slip beneath the rib cage and damage the organs there. This was an experienced kill. Someone had done this before. She slowly lowered the body, suddenly aware she'd been crying as she'd examined him. She ran the back of her hand over each cheek in turn, and then under her chin. Lena was staring at her. Another stab wound? Cass nodded. I'm so sorry, Cass, Lena said. Cass looked at the girl, her blue eyes, sunburned red skin, and the red hair. Beyond Lena's hair she saw Brick snap to attention and turned to stare into the trees. The dog stood and trotted over to Billy, his wagging rear end more subdued than usual. Billy didn't bend to greet the dog, but stood staring at Drew's body. His face paled and his mouth dropped open. He caught Cass's gaze and shook his head. She may not have known him for long, but she could tell. She could tell by the way he looked nauseated that he wasn't familiar enough with dead bodies to have made one. She could tell by the way his lips went white that he was experiencing a true horror. Actor or not, Cass realized she'd always somehow recognized when he was lying to her, and he wasn't lying now. Actors had the benefit of time and rehearsal and could school their performance to perfection, a little direction and the appropriate music, and they could portray human emotion with sincerity, boil it down to its most basic form, and offer it like a tonic to the viewer. Billy was just wrecked, experiencing every thought at once. And if all that weren't enough, he still wore the exact clothing he'd been wearing earlier. It was stuck to his body with sweat and totally free of blood. Cass glanced at Lena. The girl was kneeling now. Someone else had closed Drew's eyelids, but Lena moved to brush the hair away from his forehead, oblivious to Billy's presence. Cass looked back up at him. He was taking in a breath to speak. She shook her head sharply, pressing her index finger to her lips to silence him, but she was too late. It's true, he said. Lena whirled around to face Billy and reached to her side for her gun. She wasn't wearing it, and she groped at her hip in confusion for a moment. You bastard, Lena said. You did this. She took in a deep breath, ready to scream, to call for help. Cass leaped forward and clapped a hand over Lena's mouth, wrapping her arms around the girl none too gently. Lena stop. The girl twisted in Cass's arms, her eyes accusing as she fought to break the hold. She stomped on Cass's foot and elbowed her in the breast. Cass held on until Lena bit into her hand harder than Brick had done earlier. Damn it, Lena. Help! Lena got out a single shout before Cass pulled her gun from its holster and aimed it at the ground halfway between Lena's feet and her own. Lena's blue eyes widened and then narrowed, and she took a step back. What are you thinking, Cass? He didn't do it, Lena. Oh Jesus, what's wrong with you? He's a spy, a mole. He killed our people, and now Drew. He'll kill you too. I didn't kill anyone, I swear, Billy said. At some point he had sunk onto his knees. Get up, Cass said. She turned to Billy for a moment. Run, she said. Run north, I'll catch up. Billy hesitated. Go. He stood and jogged through the trees. Cass turned to find Lena's cold eyes on her. The girl shook her head. Look at you, holding a gun on me. I'm not the enemy Cass, he is. She pointed in the direction Billy had disappeared, which wasn't north. Cass had to hurry. I have to hold a gun on you. If I don't, you'll fight me, and you're good. You're quicker than me, and you're smart. All you have to do is keep me busy and call out. They won't listen to logic right now, and without my help, they'll catch him. Don't compliment me, right? Without my help, they'll catch him, won't they? Yes, Lena snapped. Think about that, Lena. You are smart, think about it. He didn't do this. He didn't get the drop on Drew. Cass prayed Lena would believe her. Lena didn't know Billy had been an actor. She wouldn't have that doubt. Lena's conviction seemed to waver, and her gaze turned down to Drew's body. He's not a killer. He'd never have known where to aim a knife. I know you hate Billy, but can you see him stabbing Drew three times? The doubt in Lena's eyes turned to clarity. She believed. We don't really know him, Lena said. And if he was clever enough to kill him so efficiently, why would he leave the knife right here? Someone wanted us to find it. Cass heard shouting in the distance. The people looking for Billy were coming back. She locked eyes with Lena and took a risk. She replaced her pistol in her holster without looking away. Lena's eyes first tracked Cass's hands as she put away the weapon, and then met her gaze again. Tears welled up in Cass's eyes, and she swallowed back the cotton in her throat. If you ever believed in me or trusted me at all, trust me now. Believe me now. Billy didn't do this, Lena, please. Tell my brother the killer is still here. Cass glanced down at Drew once more and bit her lip to hold back the tears. I'll be back. She took off through the trees, moving again with a speed careless of the scratches of branches. Lena didn't yell for help. Cass heard a stick crack behind her and turned. It was Brick following. She thought about sending the dog back and decided it was better if he stayed with her. The others might be able to use him to track them somehow. When Cass burst out of the trees, she had to stop to let her eyes adjust for a moment. Billy came into focus. He stood by a little four seater plane, overgrown with weeds, but still mostly sound, despite its emergency landing in the field. For a moment Cass just stared at him. The sun was lowering behind her, and the trees were casting shadows on his body and troubled face. But his golden hair was glowing in the sunlight like a halo. That's west, she said. I said north. Let's move. Hello, listeners. Thank you, thank you so much for tuning in to Chapter 19 of the Scarring Underneath. You can learn more about me and my work at TSDickerson.com or on my Facebook, Instagram, and Blue Sky pages. Links are in the podcast description.