Darkest Fear Page 2

  We ignored the clearing with the picnic benches and went instead to a small glade, only about fifteen feet across. It was our special and secret picnic spot, remarkable because it was flat and root-free, shaded by pines and a few knobby cypresses. All around it trees grew so thickly that the light was dim even at midday. I spread the blanket and hoped to get through most of dinner before everything started.

  Fiendishly, they waited till I had my fork poised over a slab of my rich, moist coconut cake, its scent swirling up to my face. I’d been thinking about it all day, fantasizing about just planting my face in it and scarfing it up. Now I was much too full, of course, but by the gods I was going to get this down somehow.

  “Dearest,” said Mami, looking strained, “eighteen years ago today, you came into our lives.”

  I tried to smile through a mouthful of cake.

  The most perfect baby.

  “The most perfect baby,” my mom said.

  Every time she said this, I wondered if she was comparing the perfect baby me to the current me, which seemed by any standard to be considerably less perfect.

  Mami hesitated, then went on. “When you were thirteen, we shared with you the wonder, the beautiful mystery of our kind.”

  My throat closed up, the coconut cake turning to a lump of florist’s foam in my mouth.

  Papi looked serious. He put down his fork and rubbed the back of my neck, which he always did when he wanted to talk seriously to me. “Querida, now you are eighteen. You know we’ve tried so hard to show you the joy in being who you are. What you are.”

  The cake moved very slowly down my esophagus, as if I’d swallowed a whole hard-boiled egg. I breathed through my nose, hoping I wouldn’t gag.

  “I don’t want any part of this,” I mumbled, my mouth bone-dry. How many times had I said that? Like a million? “This isn’t me.”

  Sounding near tears, my mom said, “Of course it’s you, Viviana. Of course—”

  Papi went on quickly, “But now you are eighteen, and when a haguari child turns eighteen, she or he is given the family book.”

  My brain rang with the most awful word I knew: “haguari.” My parents pronounced it “ha-HWA-ree,” but I’d heard friends of theirs say the g: “ha-GWA-ree.” It meant “jaguar people.” A bit hysterically, I wished that it meant people who totally, totally loved their British sports cars.

  “The family book?” I asked faintly. It was the first I’d heard of it. Could they read the dismay on my face? Of course they could.

  As we’d sat there, the sun had gradually sunk below the line of trees, and our little glade was now even more private, deeply in shadow. I wanted to jump up and run into the pine-scented darkness and just keep running. I wanted to leave them forever, and knowing this made me want to die. Do you know how hard it is to feel that the people you love the most can’t help destroying you?

  “Yes,” said Mami. “It has the history of our people and the history of our family. When you marry, you will continue the book for your children.” She spoke firmly, as if there were no question I would marry and have children—children like me. Like them. Oh, gods. If only I could hold on until I could go to Seattle. It couldn’t come soon enough.

  I shook my head. “I’ve told you every way I know how,” I said tightly. “I understand what you are, but I don’t want to be like that. I want to be regular. You can yell at me every day for the rest of my life, but it won’t change my mind. I want to be like me.” My face was hard. “I don’t want to be like you—I mean . . . the other part. The . . . people part of you is fine. But I’m rejecting the other part.”

  “How can you say that?” my mother cried, as if this were a brand-new argument, as if I hadn’t already said those exact same words a hundred times. “You haven’t even tried—” She stopped abruptly as my dad put a hand on her knee.

  “Whatever you decide, our book is in—” Papi began firmly, but his words were drowned out by a sudden, startlingly loud growl that made us all jump. An animal growl, coming from . . . behind the trees? In the darkness there? Instantly my parents were on their feet, and my mother grabbed my arm and hauled me to mine.

  “What’s that?” I asked, peering tensely through trees. A wild dog? Something big. Maybe even a Florida panther? They weren’t supposed to be in this area. My blood had turned icy with the sound, and the little hairs on my arms were standing up. There was another growl from the woods, sounding like the snarl of a circus cat when the trainer pokes it with a stick.

  And then . . .

  “Oh, my gods,” I muttered, appalled, wanting to look away. My father had started to change, right there in front of me. It was amazingly fast, like a sped-up film. I’d seen it happen only once before, on my thirteenth birthday, and it had been horrifying. Since then I’d seen him in his other form just a couple of times, and never on purpose.

  His other form. His jaguar form.

  He was already on all fours, his clothes slipping off, one shirtsleeve ripping. His face had broadened, his jaw jutting forward, and thick dark fur was covering his tan skin. Bones shifted and moved; muscles swelled; limbs elongated; his spine bent and lengthened. It was repulsive, disgusting. Grotesque.

  From deep in his throat an answering snarl—raw, angry, full of menace—made me suck in my breath. His teeth were long and knifelike and—

  “Vivi!” My mother’s voice was harsh, her grip on my arm painful. “Go! Run!” She pushed me away, toward the edge of the clearing.

  I stared at her. “What?”

  “Run! Get out of here!” Now her face too was broadening, starting to transform, her shoulders hunching, her spine curving down sharply. I didn’t want to see this. What was happening?

  “Run!” she said again, but it came out as a half roar. I burst into tears, turned, and ran.

  • • •

  I’d been coming to this park my whole life, had spent countless sweaty hours on the hiking trails, canoeing through the swamps, watching baby alligators from viewing decks above the waterlogged, sun-soaked fields of sedge grass.

  Now I ran blindly, my panicked brain barely registering that I had left the trail and was crashing through the woods. Broken twigs jabbed my feet, scratched my arms and face, and still I plunged forward. What was happening, what was going on, should I call for help—?

  Another furious, high-pitched roar wove its way through the trees to my ears, making my heart pump harder and my stomach twist in fear. Was it coming after me? I refused to look behind me. Didn’t want to know.

  And then, with no warning, it began to happen, the way I’d always feared it would: The world shifted in my eyes, details becoming more precise, some colors fading, some enhanced. My running feet sounded like bricks crushing the leaves on the forest floor, the snap of twigs like rifle shots echoing in my ears.

  My running became awkward, unbalanced as my legs got tangled in my shorts. I fell, my hands outstretched, and then I was racked with sudden pain that made me crumple up and cry out. My joints were bending unnaturally, dislocating, the bones lengthening horribly. My face was splitting, my jaw unhinging; my skull was in a vise. Every muscle screamed, its fibers being split and stretched. My clothes, annoyingly in the way, fell off or ripped.

  Curl up pant pant pain

  Curl up small

  Muscles hurt close eyes smell dirt smell pine smell me animal me my fur

  Pain breathe in slow shallow

  Smell dirt smell fear

  Open my eyes the pain is fading

  Sun down dark but shapes outlines see quite well see everything

  Trees and leaves I see lines depth land picked out so sharp

  Strong scents fill my nose my mouth pine cypress stagnant water thick and green

  Rabbit and insects pungent like roly-poly bugs I smell saw grass and pine needles and birds

  Can’t hear my parents where am I how far away am I

  Where are my parents I get to my feet I am on all fours

  I am solid I have strong muscles I
am powerful I am jaguar me I am a jaguar

  Before it hurt so much took so long was a birth

  This is still awful

  These eyes can’t cry tears

  There is no movement it has stopped

  Every creature senses me and has gone silent becoming still like a tree a rock a root

  Because I am a predator I am at the top of the food chain

  Where did I come from which way did I come my new eyes see everything my new eyes see weird but so well

  Should I go back to find my parents

  The snarls were so scary from the purple shadows maybe I should wait here

  Mami said run get out of here now

  I sit down it is odd my haunches sit but my shoulders stay up I have haunches it is funny

  Mami Papi where are you will you come get me

  Ground is not safe want to be up

  Cypress tree here I coil muscles and jump like a spring like a jumping bean

  I float I land on a branch my claws are steel hooks on the branch they are talons

  I am up high these branches can hold me I climb high and high I cannot see any clearing

  I cannot see our car

  I cannot hear anything but birds and insects and leaves twitching like my ears

  There is a breeze up here waves of scents honeysuckle wild blackberry palm bark bird

  I don’t want to be here I am scared I have no idea what to do

  I have never felt so alone

  Stars in the sky arc as night comes the darkness grows deeper covers me like a blanket

  Nighttime insects begin their scratchy evensong

  A big black beetle scuttles past me it smells just like itself

  I smell like myself I smell like a jaguar

  There is life all around me the night is full of hot little beating hearts

  Jaguar me stays very very still for long time but fear is a sparkler in my stomach

  I have to see Mami and Papi have to see them have to see them I don’t care

  I climb down tail first I don’t know how finally I jump I land silently on pine needles

  I scan for danger nothing here can hurt me nothing is worthy of notice

  I am not lost I smell my path the fear scent from my paws as I ran I brushed against trees I tripped on roots I left scent everywhere everything I touched smells like fear my foot bled I smell the drop of blood it is a beacon from fifteen feet away

  I move quickly and quietly along the trail I find a pile of cloth it smells familiar it smells so familiar this is what I wore this is mine I can’t carry them what to do cannot carry them leave them there

  Please let my parents be looking for me be waiting for me calling my name worried about me let everything be okay

  This is a prayer this prayer drowns out the sounds of night

  I head back to our glade and then a hundred yards away the scents come to me

  I smell fear like dark vinegar like sweat and I smell blood cold not hot not fresh sick

  I smell death

  Blood breaking down meat flesh

  I will wait jaguar me will wait I will hide beneath this bush my ears catch every sound every heartbeat my eyes snap into focus on every leaf bobbing on the wind

  I wait my stomach is sick my heart is thudding my lungs will explode I wait

  There is no threat to me I crawl out from the bush the moon is bright the glade is bright with moonlight I see everything clearly I see everything

  I don’t understand I don’t understand

  There is a body a human body

  The chest is cut open I go closer sniffing it smells familiar it is family

  It is covered with blood my nose wrinkles wet copper scent of blood

  My paws are silent there is a jaguar nearby it is alive it is warm but growing cooler

  It smells like family it has golden fur splotched with black and dark red roses of blood warm blood dark maroon in the moonlight

  I smell fear I smell death there is a human body why is this jaguar dying why

  I sniff the jaguar its eyes open they are golden

  And beautiful

  I know these eyes

  The jaguar is Mami she is dying the human is my papi he is dead

  There is blood everywhere

  My mouth opens my pupils flare my gut churns this is Mami this is Papi

  My veins flood with shock with white-lightning adrenaline

  Suddenly I drop to the ground

  I am in knots

  And with no warning I was changing back, diminishing, becoming flimsy and stiff, weak and pale and naked. My lovely muscled strength ebbed away as if I myself were dying. The world became brighter but also less vibrant. Sounds were muted, scents muffled or nonexistent. I was shaking with cold, my skin clammy and damp. I was no longer the top predator in this area; I could be hurt by any number of things. So many things.

  The jaguar next to me made a rough sound as I grabbed the edge of the rumpled picnic blanket and pulled it around me.

  I crawled closer to her. “Mami?” I said softly, reaching out and stroking dense fur I had never touched before.

  She groaned, her beautiful golden eyes meeting mine.

  “What happened?” I cried, so far away from understanding any of this that it was like I’d been dropped into another world. Shaking from shock, I got closer and pulled Mami’s head onto my lap. It was heavy and warm. Her mouth opened, and I saw her long white teeth were stained with blood.

  “Mami, come on,” I pleaded. “I’ll call for help. I’ll get the car.” I was babbling, unable to think, forcing my eyes to stay on her, not looking over to where my once-handsome father lay, a cooling body in the moonlight.

  As I held her, my tears falling into her fur, she began to change, shrinking and losing her beautiful coat, her coiled-rope muscles.

  “Mami, who did this?” Now I could touch her human face, spattered with blood, her long dark hair falling over my knee. I was crying, unable to take in what had happened, how suddenly and irrevocably my life had changed.

  Mami managed a wan smile. The ground under my knees was soaked; several deep cuts in her side were still bleeding heavily. I put my hand over them, trying to keep her blood in.

  “My beautiful . . .” Her eyes unfocused, seeming to look past my face at the night sky. I gripped her shoulder.

  “Mami! Hold on! I’ll get help! I’ll find my phone!” But I was too terrified to move even an inch away from her.

  She blinked slowly and looked at me again, frowning slightly as if confused. “Donella? I’ve missed you . . .” I could barely hear her voice.

  “Donella?”

  Mami smiled slightly, and her eyes focused on me again. “My perfect . . . baby . . .” Then the frown between her eyes smoothed, and her face went lax. Her golden eyes gazed sightlessly at the stars above me.

  My parents were dead.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ON TV SHOWS WHEN PEOPLE call 911, even if they’re hysterical, they can get words out. I couldn’t.

  I found my phone, covered with dirt and blood, beneath the blanket I’d pulled around me. I called 911, but my brain had disconnected and I didn’t seem to know any words. I wanted to be away from here. The dispatcher asked increasingly urgent questions that I couldn’t answer. Finally he said, “Does your phone have a GPS?” I nodded, as if that would help. “Turn on the phone’s GPS,” he ordered.

  I did. Then I dropped the phone, crawled a few feet away, and threw up. Then, oh my gods—I realized we were all naked. Not only was this the worst thing that could possibly happen to us, but it was also . . . shameful. Like the cops would think we were out here being freaks. And we were! But not that way.

  I had no idea where my clothes were—didn’t think I could ever find them, back in the dark woods. My eyes flew wildly about the horrific scene, our picnic scattered, my cake smashed and bloodied, the bodies. My parents were bodies now. Everything they had been, every facet of their personalities, had ended forever. My brai
n could not begin to comprehend that.

  My mom had brought my birthday presents. I grabbed a flat one and ripped it open. It was a cute patterned halter top and a pair of trendy booty shorts that I wouldn’t have worn in a million years. I scrambled into them. In the distance, sirens started wailing.

  My parents were naked. No child ever wants to see that. I was sobbing now, blubbering without thinking what I looked like, what I sounded like. My face was wet with tears, my nose was running. I wiped it on my arm. I got my dad’s shorts on him, and then I threw up again.

  I got my mom’s top and underpants and shorts on. Then I collapsed in the blood-soaked grass and cried so hard I heaved again, except my stomach was empty so it was just bile. I wished I were dead. I wished I had stayed and been killed too. I wished whoever had done it would come back right now and finish me off, because I simply could not live through this.

  The sirens were closer, but they couldn’t bring cars right here. I lay there and cried and retched and finally I heard voices and running feet.

  They asked me questions. I understood the words but didn’t know why they were talking to me. I couldn’t sit up. Someone said, “She’s in shock. Get her on a board.” I started screaming when they put me on a stretcher. I needed to stay with Mami and Papi, because they were all I had. I was strapped down, struggling and shouting, and then someone stuck a needle in the back of my hand. About ten seconds after that I fell asleep.

  • • •

  When I woke up, I was in a hospital room. I looked around groggily and saw Jennifer and her parents. I felt thick-headed and unnaturally calm.

  “Babe,” said Jennifer, and took my hand, squeezing tight. Her face was pale. Her eyes were huge and dark.

  “What happened?” I asked, my words slurring.

  Jennifer put her hand over her mouth and started crying. I just looked at her.

  Mrs. Hirsch came closer. “Hi, sweetie,” she said, looking very serious. “I’ve contacted your aunt Juliana, in Brazil. She’s on her way.”

  “Why?”

  Behind her the wooden door wide enough for hospital beds opened. A tall woman with sand-colored hair came in.

  “Hello, Viviana,” she said gently. “I’m Detective Virginia Parnes. I need to talk to you about your parents.”