Mothman sighed, pulling our attention to him.
“What?” Caspian asked him. He’d been less tense since their fight, no longer looking a moment away from killing him. My hand went to my throat as I remembered the man Caspian had murdered in the river. The body bobbing up to the surface, his teeth marks at the neck.
Mothman passed him his notebook. Caspian looked up warily at him after reading.
“What is it?” I asked. Caspian took a moment to respond, watching as Mothman ran the back of his hand down my arm. Something definitely had shifted since that fight.
“He’s seen movement too,” Caspian said and I inhaled a deep breath, feeling both relieved I wasn’t going crazy and terrified there was something in here. “But he thinks it’s just the caves playing tricks with the light. He can sense things too and he senses nothing.”
My tongue felt thick in my mouth. I closed my eyes but when I did I lost my sense of equilibrium and swayed. My eyes popped back open quickly and I saw everyone looking at me in concern.
“Do you feel sick?” Caspian asked, touching my forehead again.
“I’m fine. We can’t turn back now,” I responded in a tired rasp.
“She’s right,” Brandon said. It was obvious he wouldn’t turn back unless we had to drag him kicking and screaming. He was committed to this rescue. Mothman looked like he was entertaining me and could care less either way. Caspian looked like he was always five seconds away from demanding we all turn around. This trip had to be over soon. Ithadto be.
“Shouldn’t he remember which way he went?” Caspian asked in a whisper, big alien-like eyes looking at us. Brandon shrugged. Caspian looked at Mothman, who pointed at himself like he was shocked Caspian wanted his input. Caspian smiled a little too widely and nodded. Mothman shrugged and Caspian looked frustrated no one would agree with him.
“Something about this, about this climber, isn’t right. He always sounds the same distance away,” Caspian said.
“Trick of the caves,” Brandon said again.
“He walked over a dead body to go climbing. Who does that?” Caspian insisted.
“You probably would,” Brandon countered. Caspian looked at him in irritation for a moment before flashing a wide smile. It was chilling that the sharp tips of his teeth could be seen when he did it.
“Exactly and I’m not human,” Caspian said. That actually had Brandon looking concerned.
“What about his name?” I asked. I felt sluggish mentally and physically. I was ready to find the climber and get out. When I thought about all the time we spent walking, and therefore all the time I’d have to spend climbing back out, I felt utterly exhausted.
I slid down to the ground and leaned against the wall. My muscles relaxed and I sunk further into the rock. I really didn’t feel great but was willing to believe it was mostly exhaustion. It had been a very long couple of days. A lot had happened.
My eyes darted to the splinter and my heart seized a moment when I saw discoloration inching towards my wrist. It was growing and growing fast. My mind went back to that haunted house my family dragged me into; the one that made my instincts on edge every moment I was in there.
A cursed house. Now it had wormed itself into me, latched itself inside, and was reaching towards my heart. That damned house wanted me and had found a way to get me. I could almost feel its presence now that I thought about it. Feel the house around me groaning and creaking and calling for my soul.
Movement flashed in the darkness behind us and I sucked in a breath, pressing harder against the cave wall. It looked like a dark face; just the briefest flash of two big eyes and a nose—vague and ill-defined. It was like one of those ancient metal sculptures, the details worn down and blank—lifeless.
“Did you see that!” I hissed between my teeth. When I looked up they all peered down at me, looking concerned. They weren’t looking behind us where the face had been. They weren’t even trying to see it. Panic and frustration bubbled up inside me. Why wouldn’t they even look!
My eyes flipped back to the darkness but saw nothing at all. I looked harder, straining my eyes until everything went fuzzy. Did my mind invent a face because I was so desperate to see something?
Mothman crouched down and brushed his soft face against my cheek. His feelers curled forward and I felt them feather across my face, the sensation soft and delicate. He tugged his hat down a little further on my head, adjusting it so it fit better on me.
I leaned forward, sagging against Mothman. His long fingers slid into my hair. I could feel the sharp tips of his talons gently scratching at my scalp as he threaded my hair between his fingers. I was growing used to his form of comfort.
I didn’t know what to do about this pull towards Mothman. Staying close to him almost felt instinctual at this point. The taste of danger, violence, and death was still too close.
I remembered the way he’d flown above the hunters, high above the bridge. His huge black wings had been a dark stain in the sky. His eyes had hummed down at us, his presence a weight on our necks as men had dropped to their knees in awe.
Mothman felt like a force of nature.
Caspian walked over and kneeled next to us. He slid his hand over my cheek, cradling my face. I reached out and gripped Caspian’s hand.
“I love you,” I told him. I’d always loved him but now that love had developed into something different. Something stronger and even more desperate. Was it okay with him that I needed to be close to Mothman too?
When I told him I loved him, Caspian looked relaxed and content in a way I’d never seen in him before—his entire face soft, his mouth slightly ajar in awe. I’d tell him I loved him every hour for the rest of our lives if it made him look that way.
