The Last Handful of Clover - Book 2: Gifts Both Light and Dark

2.81 Return

June 15, 8:16 pm

When Richard plowed into Pil, the surprise of it, more than the impact, knocked Billy from the big man's shoulders. He crashed to the porch in a heap, but was quickly back on his feet.

The scene around Billy was so surreal that it seemed more like a dream.

Pil Kilani stood where he had been, clearly not having seen or felt the impact of Richard Pratt as the ghost dove into him like a still pool on a summer day. But no longer were the big man's eyes full of hatred and anger. Instead, he was flushed, contorted, and frozen, as if all the three consciousnesses that now resided in his body had wrestled his bulk into immobility. There was a drop of drool emerging from the corner of his slack jaw, but the rest of his body remained rigid and trembling.

Pil continued to hold Keith aloft, with one hand clenched around his throat and the other knotted in his shirt. To relieve the strain on his neck, Keith had grasped Pil's wrists and was attempting to bear the bulk of his own weight. His knuckles were white and his arms trembled from the effort. Keith's face was beet red, and the kicking of his feet was becoming weaker.

As Billy stood helpless, Howard Gunderson raced to Keith's assistance. The boy grabbed Keith from behind, his arms locked under the struggling man's belly, and heaved upward. Michelle was crying and making wordless sounds, but now she too rushed to Keith's aid. She clawed at her husband's hands, trying to dislodge them from Keith's throat, but the big man's grip may as well have been cast in iron.

Billy could only watch now, feeling helpless—but in that moment, Pil's grip relaxed. Keith, Michelle and Howard tumbled together onto the porch at Pil's feet, while the man's hands stayed, quivering in the air above them, tense and claw-like.

Keith drew in a huge breath of air that both looked and sounded painful, and he scuttled back from his attacker so forcefully that it pushed all three of them against the railing of the porch. None of the three could rip their panic-stricken eyes from the big man, who hovered over them like a terrifying titan. Keith continued to gasp for air, and instinctively threw his arms around Michelle, who was calling out her husband's name in a voice that sounded to Billy like it came from a thousand miles away.

Howard Gunderson was the first of the three to look away from Pil, and his eyes locked onto Billy, wordlessly pleading for help. It wasn't until that moment Billy remembered that the boy was a medium, and could see him. It was the first time in more than a hundred and fifty years that he felt a living human look into his eyes, and it felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dashed into his face.

"Billy, what's happening?" Howard asked, still cradling Keith and Michelle in his arms.

Billy took a deep breath, and walked up to Pil, who was trembling worse now, but still steady on his feet. He placed a hand on the big man's chest, which felt as cold as stone, but in which he could feel the vibration of the battle that was raging within him.

"Richard and Justin are both in Pil," he said to Howard.

"What is Richard doing?"

Billy looked at the boy, and in that moment he looked so young, so vulnerable. And so sadly unaware of the world in which Justin's possession had so cruelly thrust him.

"I don't know. I supposed he's trying to... stop him. Or save him, maybe. We have to pray that he's strong enough. That Tuilla taught him what he needed to know."

"What..." Michelle stammered, staring at Howard. "Who are you talking to? Who is Billy?"

"Billy is... Richard's friend. I think he has been watching over Keith."

"Well, tell him he did a piss-poor job of it," Michelle whimpered, still cradling her friend while he coughed and sputtered against her chest. "What is wrong with my husband?"