Page 86 of Crybaby

“Of course, baby,” I reply like it’s a no-brainer. “I love you.”

She’s quiet, and when I think I’ve said too much, she presses her lips to the wounds over my chest, before gently kissing over my heart. “I love you too.”

Hearing those words breathes new life into me. “Thanks to Tillerman’s overshare, we know where Carson will be.”

“What are we going to do?”

Kissing over the top of her head, I inhale her unique fragrance into me—it’s a scent I’ve become addicted to. “We do what I do best—I break into his home, and we find something that will reveal to the world what true monsters the Becketts really are.

“And then?” she whispers.

“And then…we kill them all.”

Ifeel like I’m in the cottage belonging to the three bears. I’m Goldilocks, and I could seriously down some cold porridge right now without even blinking. My stomach is groaning like a whiney bitch. There’s an old bed that probably has dust mites and semen embedded in it. I’m exhausted, and I just want to lie down. It’s probably stupid as hell to stay out here in the woods with the cops chasing us, but I’m tired to the core.

Rev sits on the floor by the bed and toys with his gun.

“What are we doing?” I ask, but the question is rhetorical.

“Come here,” he says, patting his lap.

I collapse onto him and lie between his legs, my head on his chest. I just need to sleep. I can’t think straight. I feel like I’m inhabiting someone else’s body that’s done all these evil things.

Who am I?

Did Rev influence me? I stiffen. Why didn’t he stop me? I start to question whoheis.

Why have the police been after him for so long? Have I been groomed and taken advantage of by a killer?

Am I a killer?

These are the neurotic thoughts racing around my head, and I know that’s because I need sleep.

So I silence the voices and embrace them—down the rabbit hole I go, down deep into old memories. Ones with sunshine in them and laughing. I even see a swing in the park, but I don’t know if I was ever there.

The reality around me is cold, dark, and dirty, with colors of blue, green, and black. My mind, however, has gone into the warmest amber light, coaxing me back to a better time. Is this what they mean by follow the light?

Cold tears are on my face, but I refuse to wake up. I want to stay here inside my warm mind.

Digging.

The sound of a shovel entering the earth and the cough as the dirt is thrown. It’s happening over and over again and rouses me from my sleep. I’m still lying against Rev’s chest, but poke him lightly and look up.

Rev’s eyes are open, and he’s listening.

“Someone’s digging outside?” I whisper, unsure whether I’m dreaming or not.

He simply nods slowly and exhales.

We get up and peer outside. There’s an old man digging a huge hole out the back of the shack. Beside him is a full bag sealed tight. He’s grunting and chatting to someone, and I can’t make out what he’s saying as he’s barely opening his mouth.

The bag is moving, and I’m suddenly feeling a fire ignite in my belly. A game is beginning once again, and my warm memories that soothed my sleep have quickly evaporated.

Before I know what is happening, Rev is outside, casually smoking a cigarette, standing by the semi-dug-out grave this man is digging. Smoke billows in the crisp air, and the trees surrounding us are muted in the fog. It looks like an old painting, beautiful yet hiding the worst secrets. I can’t imagine how many bodies may be decaying in this forest.

I hear mewing. Like small squeaky toys and the thick plastic bag is moving.

“Oh, fuck no!” I say, appearing behind the old guy with my gun pointed at his head.

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