Page 58 of Splintered
The shadow twisted, staring at Ben.
“Evan,wait!”
Evan thundered down the stairs. Ben followed. Overhead, the amber light droned, a buzz that filled his skull, drowned out all other sounds, that pushed down on him until he collapsed, fell to his knees as he hit the bottom step. He pushed his hands over his ears and screamed. He couldn’t hear himself, not over the sound, the fury that filled him, the invisible strength that nearly pinned him down to the ground. Now it was him that was restrained.
On the steps, William was also doubled over, his hands over his ears as he screamed. Ben waved for him to crawl down, holding out his hand for William to grab.
Movement in the living room caught his gaze from the corner of his eye.
He twisted, squinted past the pain, the crushing pressure beating down on him.
Evan stood before the fireplace, a burning log in one hand.
Other logs from the fire lay scattered around the room, tossed from the fireplace. One was on the couch, the cushions were already burning, flames consuming the fabric and the stuffing faster than Ben could blink. Another log sent fire racing up the curtains, spirals climbing gauze and air. A third lay by the bookcase, the flames engulfing the shelves like lightning striking a dry prairie.
In Evan’s other hand, he gripped a bloody knife. It was one of their kitchen knives, one from the butcher block set on their counter. How he held it, how he’d gotten hold of it, how he’d stabbed Father Mathew. How he’d escaped the restraints. Questions Ben had no answers for.
“William, call 911!” Ben hollered. William was crawling behind him, finally free of the stairs and struggling to stand. “Callnow! And get everyone out of the house!”
“Ben…” Evan breathed. The flames on the log he held sprinted toward his hand. He had minutes, maybe, before the fire reached his skin. Less, if the fires consuming the living room enveloped them sooner.
Already, the couch fire tickled Evan’s thighs.
“Ben, come with me,” Evan pleaded. “You promised you’d always be with me.Forever, you said.”
“Evan, you need help.”
“It’s not me!” Evan roared. “Can’t yousee? Can’t you see atall?”
“Evan—”
“I couldn’t see, not before! But it’s so fucking clear! I know what I have to do. What we have to do.” He held out his hand, the one with the knife. “Come with me!”
“Where? Where do you want to go?”
“Where we can always be free! Where we can always be together! Just you and me, like we wanted!”
“Evan, come with me.Now. We can have that, I promise. If you just come with me!” The flames from the couch spread to the rug. The rug Evan was standing on.
“Come tome, Ben. You need to come tome.” Sweat poured down Evan’s body, soaked his bloody t-shirt. Fire snaked across the ceiling, ribbons that curled overhead and wreathed Evan. Surrounded him.
From behind, he heard Dr. Kao shout, and then Donna’s scream. “Get everyone out!” Ben roared. “Now!”
The front door slammed.
“Evan…” Ben stepped forward. Ahead of him, the fire filled the rug, encircling Evan completely and cutting him off from Ben. “Evan, I love you. I love you more than you will ever know.”
Evan pulled the knife up to his throat. “If you love me, you’ll come with me.” The knife pressed into his flesh. Blood flowed down his neck. “Ben!”
Maybe it was always going to end like this. Maybe from the first moment, this was always the end. Choices and patterns, tides of history, the actions of men. Maybe he’d been damned from the first moment he’d agreed to the exorcism. Or further back, to the night Evan had seized on the couch, had been seized by something. Darkness or madness, he couldn’t tell anymore. Was there any difference in the end?
Maybe this was always the way they were going to end, from their very first kiss.
Ben stepped into the fire. He felt the heat, the sear. He held Evan’s stare. “I love you,” he whispered.
Evan gazed at him with adoration, with beatification, with all of the love he’d ever had for Ben shining from his perfect, hazel eyes. “I love you, Ben,” he breathed. “I knew you’d choose me.”
Ben held out his hand as he crossed the flames, as he drew closer to Evan. Already, the room was engulfed, the flames closing in on their last little circle. Smoke filled the room, burned his lungs. That hum, the buzz, was still there beyond the roar, the crackle, the flames that was consuming his house. That weight was back, that pressure, pulling on him, trying to hold him in place. That same pressure from the stairs.
