Howling and Feral hung by their ankles from the low branch of a tree over a freshly built fire, screaming and crying out for Vern. Soon the babes would tumble downward into the orange haze.
“Babies, be still, I’m going to get you down,” said Vern, but someone grabbed her from behind and pressed a forearm into her throat hard, cutting off her breath.
“We can do this soft and gentle, Vern, or we can do it hard. I can’t kill you, but I can kill them, and I will if I have to. Please don’t struggle. Just listen to me, for fuck’s sake.”
“You’re nothing but Reverend Sherman’s hired dog,” Vern croaked as she gasped for air.
“I’m trying to save you. I know you can’t see that, but I am. I could’ve taken you back to Cain at any time. I’m the only thing keeping you in the woods living free. I’m the only thing between you and them.”
Vern shifted to wrestle her neck out of Ollie’s grip, but a sweaty forearm locked her in place. “Them?” Vern asked, her voice a squeak. The deacon board? Cops? Judges? Who was Reverend Sherman working with?
“I was assigned one task. To bring you back to the compound. I could have at any time. Don’t think for a second there wasn’t a moment I didn’t know exactly where you were. I lied to them and said I couldn’t find your camp. I did that for you. They were satisfied as long as I kept my eye on you in the woods. We can go back to that. This doesn’t have to change anything. They don’t know yet, they don’t know the extent of what you can do.”
Vern sniveled uselessly as tears dampened her cheeks. “What about all those stupid dead animals?” Vern asked. It was a small point, considering all Vern had learned, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the corpses left as bread crumbs.
If anything Ollie had ever said about her life was true—that she’d had a difficult upbringing, shunted from uncaring family member to the next—Vern could see how that might make her hard. But a sadist? A fiend? What quirk of fate made someone kill a defenseless critter, all for the thrill of dressing it up in bootees?
“All I wanted was to draw you out of the woods,” Ollie said. “I didn’t think any girl in her right mind would stick around for that. You were braver than I realized.”
Vern drew up her lips and nose in recoil at the compliment. Her babes cried out for her. Mam! Mam! Mam! She’d neglected them, exposed them to harm. “If you think so much of me, will you tell me what’s happening to my body, at least? You know, don’t you? Did Reverend Sherman make me this way? Why?”
“I’ll tell you all of that and more if you agree to stand down. No one has to know anything. Can’t you see I would never hurt you?” said Ollie, her voice cracking with emotion. Her eyes glistened with uncried tears.
Even now, shown the full breadth of Ollie’s betrayal, Vern couldn’t distinguish the lies from the truth. Where did Ollie’s self-delusion end and her attempts to manipulate Vern begin? Was there anything genuine to her? Vern had dark parts, too, but that didn’t mean there was no love in her. Was there love in Ollie? What did Vern mean to her?
“Was anything you said to me true?” asked Vern pathetically. She had no reason to trust any answer Ollie gave.
“Every word out my mouth I meant. We’re alike, V. Angry and mean and we hurt people. But we aren’t liars. Rather than tell you tales I said nothing. I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry.”
If Ollie regretted what she’d done then why was she still trying to convince Vern to go back to how it was before? Vern was done crying over this woman. The only thing she ought be feeling was relief. She could finally be free of Ollie’s wiles.
“Please, Vern.”
Vern jammed her head back, banging her skull into Ollie’s face. Ollie cried out and Vern slipped from her grip.
Ollie clutched her nose, which spurted dark blood into the night. In the glow of the fire, Ollie looked as pathetic as Vern felt, her nose mashed flat by Vern’s assault. Vern dove for her, expecting to have to struggle, but Ollie went down easy.
Ollie pushed against her, but Vern didn’t budge. She couldn’t even feel Ollie’s attempts to free herself.
Vern socked her in the cheek. Dizzy from the punch, Ollie regarded Vern warily. “That night, the night my babes were born—when you tracked me down—you said you used the wolves to draw me out. What did you mean? How?”
Ollie moaned, too out of it to answer.
“Mam!” called Howling.