“You okay?” Edgar said. “Sorry – stupid question. Of course you aren’t. Want to try and stand?”

She realized her migraine was gone, not a trace of it remaining. That at least was something. She nodded weakly, and Edgar gently helped her to her feet. Her legs were wobbly, and Edgar kept hold of her left arm to steady her. She saw he’d tucked his strange weapon into the waistband of his pants to leave his hands free. Is that a gun in your pants or are you just glad to see me? she thought, and almost laughed, but she was too weak. She didn’t want to look at Aashrita, partly out of shame for what she’d done to the girl, but also because of what this version of Aashrita – whether it was truly her or some kind of monstrous duplicate – had done to her. She’d helped her remember, had showed her visions that she didn’t understand, but which she knew were important. But she had violated her in the process in an unspeakably horrible manner. She looked, though. She felt she owed her that much.

Aashrita was still bound to the T-cross, but her flesh now sagged on her frame, flowed slowly downward like melting wax. Her features were distorted, almost unrecognizable, but her eyes remained unaffected and they fixed on Lori. The anger that had blazed within them a moment ago was gone. Lori saw sadness in them now, along with love and…was that forgiveness? Lori didn’t know for certain, but she desperately hoped so. Then the eyes liquefied, just as the rest of Aashrita’s body was doing. In a sudden rush, the meat slid off her skeleton all at once. The bones quickly followed suit, and the mass puddled at the base of the cross, where it slowly began to be absorbed into the gritty black soil. Lori saw that the sludge she’d vomited was doing the same thing, disappearing into the ground. When both the vomit and Aashrita’s remains were gone, the fluorescent light attached to her cross flickered and died. The flies that had been clustered on Aashrita’s body had taken to the air when she began to melt, and now they flew off in search of new hosts for their eggs.

Lori realized then that she hadn’t seen Larry in any of the visions that Aashrita had shown her. Did that mean he was okay, that the Cabal hadn’t done anything to him? At least, hadn’t done anything to him yet? She hoped so. If even one of her family and friends was safe, it would be something she could hold onto, one small glint of hope in what was otherwise becoming an increasingly dark picture.

“Have you gotten what you came for?”

Lori turned, startled. She hadn’t heard the Haruspex approach. As she looked upon the being’s featureless cloth face, it struck her that this creature was perfect for tending the Garden of Anguish as it was kind of a scarecrow, albeit one garbed in more sophisticated-looking clothing than most.

“Yes,” she said.

The Haruspex inclined its head in a nod. She saw that it still held the wicked-looking knife in its right hand down at its side, almost as if trying to conceal it, or at least not draw attention to it.

Edgar drew his bone gun and held it down at his own side, ready to use it if necessary.

“I am gratified.” The creature pointed to Aashrita’s cross with its free hand. “Look.”

Both Lori and Edgar turned toward the empty T-cross and saw a thin tendril emerging from the soil at the base of the structure. At first Lori thought it was a plant of some kind, but then she realized that the tendril wasn’t made of vegetable matter. It was made of meat. She watched as it slowly snaked up the cross, thickening and broadening as it went.

“It shall take some time,” Haruspex said. “But eventually this cross will have a new occupant. I’ll be interested to see who it is. It’s always a surprise, but I like that. It keeps my job interesting.”

“Is it…going to grow another Aashrita?” Lori asked.

Lori found the thought appalling, but in a strange way comforting as well. If Aashrita could be regrown, it meant she wasn’t really dead, didn’t it?

“No,” the Haruspex said. “Each of my lovely flowers is unique. Once gone, they can never return. Only a new bloom can take their place.”

Lori found the Haruspex’s flower analogy to be exceptionally creepy, given that its ‘garden’ consisted of disemboweled naked people lashed to crosses by coils of barbed wire.

“Thank you for your help,” she said. “But I think it’s time for us to go now.”

She looked to Edgar for confirmation, and he nodded.

The Haruspex stepped closer to them.

“Before you depart, we need to discuss the matter of your fee.”

The Haruspex had said that in return for the knowledge she would gain, she must help out in the Garden. At the time, it hadn’t seemed like too steep a price, but now….

“My Garden is thirsty,” the Haruspex said. “It needs to drink in order to remain strong and healthy, for new life to grow.”

The Haruspex raised its knife.

“The Garden thanks you for your contribution.”

In a flash of insight, Lori understood that the Haruspex intended to water his Garden with her blood. Edgar’s too, most likely. She didn’t react – didn’t scream, didn’t try to run. She was too stunned by the visions Aashrita had shown her to think straight. She’d pushed her best friend to commit suicide, and she felt having her throat cut and bleeding to death was only fair.

The Haruspex stepped toward her, but before the creature could strike, Edgar shoved Lori aside, putting himself between her and it. He opened his mouth wide and black beetles poured forth to engulf the Haruspex. The creature staggered backward, arms flailing. Lori waited to hear the Haruspex’s shrieks as the beetles began devouring it, but the creature gave no scream, made no sound whatsoever. The insects tore at the fabric that comprised its body with their mandibles, tearing threads apart, but as swiftly as the damage was done, the Haruspex’s body repaired itself, the threads rejoining and pulling tight once more. Eventually the insects gave up and began detaching themselves from the Haruspex and flying back to their host, entering his mouth once more and disappearing to wherever it was inside his body that they dwelled. The Haruspex had no mouth to smile with, but Lori heard deep satisfaction in its voice when it spoke.

“Your pets can do nothing to me. I am not made of flesh and bone.”

The Haruspex raised its knife and stepped toward Lori once more. This time, Edgar raised the bone gun, aimed at the Haruspex’s cloth face, and fired. As close as Lori was to the man, the sound was deafening, and she flinched.

The bullet struck the Haruspex at the point between where its eyes would’ve been if it had possessed facial features. The round penetrated all the way through the Haruspex’s head, exiting the back in a spray of old dried leaves and feathers. The creature didn’t react right away, and Lori feared the damage it had sustained would not in any way slow the thing down. But the Haruspex’s grip on the knife slackened, and the blade fell to the ground. An instant later, the Haruspex joined it there, collapsing into a boneless, unmoving pile of cloth and stuffing.

A wail went up from the cross-bound – hundreds, maybe thousands of disemboweled men, women, and children – voices joining in a chorus of sorrow, as if they were in mourning for their lost master, and why not? What’s a garden without a gardener? The sound was deafening, and the power of the cross-bound’s unified grief was overwhelming. Lori wasn’t sorry that the Haruspex was dead, but she found herself crying anyway in response to the ocean of sadness that surged around them.

Edgar kept his weapon trained on the Haruspex and they waited to see if this injury would repair itself, like those the beetles had inflicted upon the creature. But it seemed that the Haruspex was not immune to the bone gun’s special ammunition. It looked like the creature was, if not exactly dead, then no longer functional, and they started for Edgar’s van.

“Goddamn Nightway,” Edgar said.

Lori silently agreed.

Chapter Twelve

Once they were back on the road, Lori said, “That gun you used. Is it really made of bone?”

“Yep. It’s called a Gravedigger Special. Picked it up during my travels when I was searching for a weapon to use against the Cabal. It fires the teeth of people who’ve died horrible, agonizing deaths. Their suffering is distilled into the teeth, and it’s released when they hit their target. Few things can withstand a concentrated dose of another being’s pain.”

“Why didn’t you use the gun on the Haruspex right away? Why sic your bugs on him first?”

“I only have so much ammo, and it’s not easy to come by. You have to extract the teeth yourself – as the person is dying. I had eight rounds when we got to the Garden. Now I have seven.”

Lori glanced at the glove box where the Gravedigger Special was once more stored. She wondered what it would be like to touch one of the bullets. Would you be able to feel the suffering contained within? Would the tooth burn your fingers or would it be cold as Antarctic ice? Whichever was the case, she didn’t intend to find out.

She sat back in the seat and gazed out of the windshield as she thought about what she’d learned in the Garden. She didn’t understand how Aashrita’s death – and her role in it – had disrupted the Balance between Shadow and the real world, but the specific details didn’t matter, she supposed. What mattered was that she should do what the Cabal had continually urged her to – confess and atone. But confess to who, atone how? Aashrita was dead. Twice dead if that version of her in the Garden really had been her. There was no way Lori could make any kind of amends to her. Her parents then. As far as she knew, they were both still alive and still lived in Oakmont. If she went to them, told them about her last conversation with Aashrita and asked for their forgiveness, she was confident it would count as confessing. As for atoning…. That she wasn’t so sure about. But that was okay. The most important thing was that she go to Aashrita’s parents and confess. The rest would fall into place afterward. She hoped. And she hoped that if she found a way to atone, the transformations the Cabal had thrust upon Justin, Melinda, and Katie would be undone. And as for Brian…maybe he would return to being a normal, living boy. She had to believe there was a chance of saving her family and friends, otherwise, how could she continue on?

Now that she’d decided on her next move, she needed to find a way back to the real world, and more specifically to Oakmont. She needed an exit.

When she told this to Edgar, he said, “I’ve been looking for one since we left the Garden. What did you think I was doing? Psychically jacking off?”

“Is that really a thing?” she asked, intrigued.

Edgar sighed.

“You can help. Keep your eyes peeled for any place that looks like heat distortion. You know, the way the air seems to ripple above a road when it’s really hot out? That’s a sure sign of an exit. Or an entrance. You’ll get a tingly feeling on the back of your neck, too.”

Lori tried to concentrate on looking for an exit, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d learned in the Garden. In one way, it was a relief to have her memory of that day on the porch with Aashrita back. She felt as if a piece of herself had been missing for years without her realizing it, and now she felt whole. She hardly felt good about it, though. The denial she’d engaged in for so long had caused her to become a person who went through life unaffected by the events that occurred around her, by the people she interacted with, because what did the present matter when it would soon be the past? She thought of Edgar’s explanation for Shadow, how it was a realm where time went to die, a place where each tick of the clock passed through before being ultimately swallowed by entropy. She was like that too in her own way. Not only did she not try to hold on to the present, she actively consigned each moment to the past as swiftly as she could, and did her best never to think about it again. She’d always considered her forward-looking approach to life to be one of her strengths. But now she saw that it was the reason why her life was, if not exactly a mess, then stagnant. She’d let go of her romantic relationship with Larry without any great difficulty, and she’d fallen into their currently ill-defined friendship just as easily. She’d started dating Justin, but she wasn’t really committed to that relationship, even to the point where the revelation of his cancer hadn’t affected her all that much. She loved Reeny, but she didn’t spend much time with her or her husband, Charles. And while she liked being an aunt, she didn’t spend a lot of time with Brian, either. As for her parents, even though she lived in the same town as them, she hardly ever saw them. Not because there was bad blood between them, but because she rarely thought about them. It was almost like they’d ceased to exist the day she’d left home for college.

Everything that had happened since Goat-Eyes had confronted her in FoodSaver had been a nightmare, but one thing her experiences with the Cabal had done for her – they’d kept her grounded in the here and now, prevented her from dismissing and forgetting them as she’d done to so many events in her life. She knew it was possible to become too focused on the past, though. If someone wasn’t careful, they could become obsessed with it, could end up drowning in guilt and remorse. But if a person ignored the past entirely, they never learned from their mistakes, left behind wreckage as they plowed through life at full speed. Forgot friends. Forgot the hurt they’d caused them, the insults, slights, disappointments, and betrayals. The deep, deep wounds, which were sometimes fatal.

Like with Aashrita.

She would find a way to atone for what she’d done. Not for herself, and not for the fucking Cabal, but for the girl who had once been her very best friend in the world.

“Shit,” Edgar muttered.