Bottled Abyss (25 page)

Weird—have been holding this coin the entire time—reach lowest set of branches, brain misfires and pick some avocados, let them fall—
you aren’t here for avocados missy, and you know it
—

Ground isn’t so far down—wouldn’t even break a leg jumping off—crawl out, branch bends, not enough room—wind picks up again, can smell the blossom fragrance, can remember all the beloved senses, can taste the oranges, smell the lingering rainstorms, feel the tear-damp shoulder of Juan Cabrillo as my heart pours about the little girl who might have been my god-daughter, and there was nothing I could do to change the outcome of her death, no controlling the situation at all, helpless to help my friends and their little girl—Juan held me and told me the world didn’t work that way, that it’s difficult but it is entirely possible to accept that some lives will be shortened—oh but it was so unbearable, and it was too late—there was no comforting them—! No fixing them, no telling a joke that would defibrillate them back to life—

A growling breath blows across my neck—

Slip off the branch, watch the ground rush at me, never reach it—head whips upright, spine jars—hang in the air, suspended, something clutches my throat powerfully—my legs beat back and forth, running in place—pressure builds in my face—black lasers shoot across my cherished grove, incinerating them from my view—

A rough, reptile-dry finger works under the invisible noose around my neck—air rushes into my lungs—

“What were three are now one, and I am Fury—”

Groan and fight, nothing doing, still not getting a lot of air— the gruesome face of a shark looms over me—the head reaches a body either dinosaur or dragon in formation, yet the combination seems anatomically correct, as though this beast belongs to the real world and not some fairy tale—a person’s mouth moves in the obscurity just beyond the razor sharp, triangle teeth—must be hallucinating, so close to the end, almost there—

“You have a chance to stay my vengeance,” says the Fury—the silky voice sounds about to deliver a promise— “Do you know the song—? The song my heart wants so badly to hear—?”

Spit sliding out my mouth—notice my tongue hangs out like a panting dog—no words form in my throat—don’t know what they would be if they were able to form—look out to the trees, all the great swelling green dark angels with millions of sweet orange eyes—they weren’t sad, they were calm, welcoming—and so they would embrace me—

Something tugs at my hand—the flesh of my palm rips away—

Falling—striking the ground, my left arm takes the impact, shoulder almost popping from the socket, teeth gnashing together, blood in mouth from biting my tongue—