THE BEAUTY OF DEATH - Vol. 2: Death by Water: The Gargantuan Book of Horror Tales by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: INDEPENDENT LEGIONS PUBLISHING
Published: 2017-11-09T05:00:00+00:00

“This has been hard on her,” Uncle Luke said. “Having you here. Having a kid here. It’s opened up a lot of wounds.”

Danny sat on the edge of his bed, his uncle Luke in a chair a few feet away. In the background, he heard Aunt Franny sobbing, even though it was obvious she was trying to keep it down. Why didn’t you just wake up?

Danny wanted to ask what happened to Chloe. He’d been so young when she’d died, his parents had only mumbled something about it. He wanted more than anything for them to come back from their missionary work and take him away from San Quinlan.

He looked toward his Uncle Luke’s drooping expression. His uncle’s eyes wouldn’t meet his and his voice had gone uncharacteristically soft.

“I’m sorry,” Danny said. “I sure didn’t mean to bother anyone.”

“You didn’t,” his uncle said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “None of this’s your fault. I’ll bring you up dinner.”

“I’m not hungry,” Danny said.

“I’ll leave it on your desk. Aunt Franny worked hard on it. Sometimes the strangest things will bring back a memory and make a hard moment real again. But if you talk to God, it can be healing. It can redeem you. Do you feel redeemed from your situation? From hurting that boy?”

Danny hadn’t thought about it He pretended to. “Being here has helped me heal. Like today? There were some fish trapped in a pool, after the river had gone down?” He didn’t mention the mission. That’d be reason for grounding. He was told not to go inside. “So, I got some buckets and collected the fish and brought them to the river and set them free.”

His uncle nodded. “This isn’t the first time God has put fish in the path of a man who needed a showing of faith.”

“Right,” Danny said, hoping his uncle would leave him be.

“I’m very glad your time here has given you that focus on your faith.”

Then he left, briefly, before returning. Danny put his book of holy scripture in bed next to him and opened it. When his uncle returned, he’d see it, and hopefully believe Danny had fallen asleep bathed in the Good Word. He’d always find a quick phrase in there and then bullshit about it when asked.

He hadn’t intended to really fall asleep, but he did. He vaguely heard his uncle come in, heard the gentle scrape of the tray as it slid across the desk.

Sleep blanketed him. He found himself back down at the banks of the San Quinlan, the white bucket with the fish in his hand once more. The fish made vocalizations. He thought they sounded like an orchestra tuning up, just smaller and rougher.

I must set them free.

Then he tilted the bucket, only he tilted with it. An unseen force pulled at him and as much as he tried to pull away, his body remained powerless in the way it does in dreams. He was a passenger and something else steered.

Up to his neck in the rapids, Danny clutched the handle of the bucket underwater.

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