Human Spines

Friends-VI

Emmeline

        We've just climbed into the car, but something feels off. Something other than the off-ness of getting into a stranger's car because he says he saw a monster behind you. Something's wrong with the car. It's backward. I'm sitting in the driver's side but the steering wheel and pedals are on the passenger side. Lochlan looks perfectly used to it. I guess he actually is from Scotland.

        He glances out the window, starting the car as I pull my seatbelt on. My eyes scan the lot, trying to find whatever we're avoiding and very nearly overlook her. A woman walks toward us, her hair blonde, stopping just after her shoulders, her skin like ancient paper. Her dress, torn off just before her knees, is such a pale coral it's more off-white. Her feet are bare but engulfed in vivid violet bruises. She slips out of sight with Lochlan's haste to leave, his hands tight on the steering wheel and his eyes focused. He's waiting for something. I watch the speedometer needle rise, more focused on the image of that lady now in my head. I have too many questions. But I believe he has answers. He clearly knows more than I do.

        Two minutes pass, then four, eight, twelve. Whatever Lochlan was waiting for must've passed, as he seems to have relaxed enough to glance down at me.

        "Do you know who I am?" I ask, trying to remember what Dumaine taught me about having a proper conversation. I hope he's okay by himself.

        "Yes, but I'd rather you tell me about yourself, then let me screw up and embarrass myself for getting something wrong," he answers with a slight smile and no hesitation. And a Scottish accent. It's weird to hear.

        "Are you human?" I question. I don't want to tell him about me yet.

        "No, but I'm also not a Demon."

        "Are you like me?" I almost ask four other questions at the same time but remember Dumaine insisting I ask one question at a time. It's more normal, he said.

        "I'm like you in many ways, but not the one you're referring to. There're almost no others like me. There are absolutely no others like you." He keeps his eyes on the road.

        Dumaine would be proud of the conversation I'm managing to have right now. On track and—

        "Sorry, didn't mean to make you feel alone," Lochlan adds after I don't answer. I forgot to ask him my next question. Maybe Dumaine wouldn't be too proud after all.

        "Do the Demons know you?"

        "Yes." He nods.

        "Can you see them?"

        "Yes, every Demon but Illyvimsius." Her name sound strange the way he says it.

        "Do they know?"

        "Some do. The most involved ones."

        "Are you—is there—do you—what is..." That's it. I can't do this normal conversation thing anymore. Sorry Dumaine. "Involved in what? Are you something I've met before? Is there a possibility that I've met you before? Do you know how to help me stay me? What's your real hair color? Because I feel like it's not black. Who's that woman? Is she a threat? Why was she after us? Do you know your car matches your eyes? Are you the reason Osinsius can talk to me? Do you know more about me than I know? How'd you know where I was gonna be? Are you sure Amistifer's safe? Why do I believe what you say? Is it really necessary for me to introduce myself to you? Who are you? Why are you driving in circles around the Waffle House?"

        I watch a grin creep onto his face. He glances at me and it looks as though he's reminiscing. He takes a deep breath. "I know how to help you. The woman we saw is called 'The Sibling', and she's dangerous, probably the reason Osinsius could talk to you. I knew where you would go because Dr. Fonsfvic told me. And yes, I'm absolutely certain Amistifer's safe." He pauses, remembering my last questions. "Oh, and I'm Lochlan McCord, son of Evelyn and Rodric McCord, born in the middle of nowhere Mississippi, went to many years of school in the middle of nowhere Scotland and have come to the middle of nowhere Louisiana to help you by driving around a Waffle House until your friend shows up. Which Dr. Fonsfvic also told me about."

        Yes. This is how conversations should be. Fast and to the point. Except he didn't answer half my questions. And I have one more. "Can we be friends, Lochlan McCord?"

        "Yes, we can, Emmeline Jefferson," he answers, still driving around the Waffle House. Satisfied with my new friend, I search the windows of the diner and find Dumaine still inside. His hat off, his forehead on the table, his fingers twined together in front him, like he's begging. A dozen Demons are surrounding him, all crouching a breath away. The largest Demon winds up one of its nine limbs, ready to bash a hole into the back of Dumaine's skull. Because Dumaine is praying.

        I tumble out of the car, rushing for the door. Out of the corner of my eye I see something. The pale lady with the bruised feet, swiftly marching away. It was her. Whatever's happened, it's her fault.

        I throw open the door and explode at the Demons, yelling and threatening until each one shrinks into the walls or crawls out the door. I scramble to Dumaine hoping it's not too late—

        But the blood. All the blood. I can't see his face through his blood-soaked dreads and the blood leaking out of the slice in his forehead from being bashed into the table and the blood trickling out of his nose and the blood and the blood and the blood. Dripping into his shirt, smeared all over his hands, splattered over every wall, raining from the ceiling. Just like the yellow of Esseleecius.

        He reaches his hand up and I gasp. He's rubbing the bloody crack in his head. But there's something wrong.

        "Emmeline, what's going on?" His voice is groggy. "I'm missing something. It's like there's a blurry spot in my memory. All I can get from it is the feeling of being upset, and... and now there's blood on my clothes, and it's not mine. I didn't kill anyone, I swear," he speaks in surrender.

    Can't he tell it's his blood? The Sibling must've done something to his memory. "Can you not feel the crack in your skull? Did your human brain numb the Demon's attack? You've lost a lot of blood! And why were you praying?" I ask, but don't wait for his reply. I need to take him to Lochlan. He has answers.

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