Sinister

Chapter Six

Leighton took the long, long way to work. The only route that avoided both the forest and Tate's apartment building was fifteen minutes longer than the usual ten minute ride. To Leighton, it was worth it.

Her first day of training at Dante's Tavern had gone well. By the end of her shift, Leighton was able to lose her trainer and started bussing on her own. It wasn't an interesting job but Leighton liked how her mind blanked while she worked.

"Hi Leighton," Emma greeted as she entered the pub. Leighton smiled at the waitress, still finding it strange after a week to be acknowledged by someone outside of her family. June had rolled into July and with it, Leighton had become accustomed to a new routine.

The pub was in the awkward down time between the lunch and dinner boom where only a few dedicated barflies hung around. Leighton put her things in the back and then tied an apron around her waist, picking up a cloth and helping the other employees wipe down the tables.

"So um, Trevor told us not to say anything," Emma started, "but I wanted to say that I was totally on your side during... well, you know." Leighton met Emma's expectant gaze, pushing a smile onto her face. She had anticipated this.

"Thanks, Emma," Leighton said uncertainly.

"I mean I knew Braden and I never thought―" Emma stopped when another waitress gave her a very clear look to layoff then sent Leighton a sympathetic smile.

Leighton pressed her lips together, deciding not to answer and move to the tables on the other side of the pub. She pushed flyaway hairs behind her ears as she tried to scrub a piece of gum off one of the tables. After a few minutes, she relented and had to use her nail.

Leighton dragged an arm over her forehead, wishing the owners of Dante's Tavern would invest in air conditioning. Even in the white t-shirt and black shorts uniform, Leighton was still overheating.

It was only after working in a pub that Leighton understood why the floor was always slightly sticky. No amount of scrubbing was ever going to clear away the level of grime accumulated from thousands of spilled soft drinks.

Leighton heard the front door open and close as Emma rambled off a greeting to the customers. Leighton didn't spare a glance as she kept working, picking up napkins and mashed French fries off the ground.

"And what can I get you today?" Emma rattled, diverting from the small talk.

The voice that responded turned Leighton's head. "Just a basket of wings for us." Leighton sucked in a breath as she found Officer McGuinty sitting at the bar.

Leighton walked stiffly around the pub, trying to hide her face from McGuinty's view. She cleaned a few more tabletops listlessly and tucked chairs into tables. Unfortunately, the gawky deputy beside McGuinty spilled his drink.

Trevor immediately looked for Leighton. "Can you get this?" he asked, pointing to the iced tea spilling over the edge of the bar. She nodded tightly, moving with an obvious reluctance. Trevor frowned. "Today, Leighton."

Leighton laid the cloth in her hand over the spill, soaking up the worst of it as she moved behind the bar to grab paper towel. McGuinty didn't miss her.

"Leighton Connors." McGuinty rubbed his five o'clock shadow when he saw her. "How are you doing, kiddo? Feeling any better?"

Leighton tried not to do anything that would warrant suspicion. "I'm fine, thanks."

The deputy beside McGuinty elbowed him, "How do you know her?" His eyes traveled the length of her body, freezing her blood.

McGuinty grumbled, "I was put on her case a few years ago."

Her case?

The deputy looked at her until it clicked in his mind. "Leighton Connors, right, I remember now."

Leighton no longer felt shocked, she was just frustrated. "Yeah, Leighton Connors, that's me. You can stare for free, any personal questions are going to cost you though, extra if you make me cry."

The two policemen gawked at her.

Instantly, her cheeks turned the color of wine. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have―"

Officer McGuinty held up a hand. "It's fine, Leighton, I get it. Your past is your past. Maybe this town should learn to keep it there."

The other deputy wasn't so quick to forgive. "I'm taking a leak." Both Leighton and McGuinty were quiet until he was across the pub.

"The last time I saw you, you were pretty rattled," McGuinty said, picking at his food. "I figured you must've taken Jack Norton's death pretty harshly."

"Yeah," Leighton said, finishing up with the iced tea spill. "I had just known him for a long time. We went to school together and he's always lived across the street from me."

"There were other reasons I'm sure you were upset over," McGuinty replied evasively. It made Leighton think of something Tom had said to her when they attended Jack Norton's funeral. The last funeral you were at didn't go over well.

"I need to go back to work," Leighton said, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder.

McGuinty smiled with false cheerfulness. "Of course."

The six o'clock upsurge was enough to take Leighton's mind away from McGuinty. Halfway through her shift, Leighton was all but buried in half empty cups, soda spills, and dirty cutlery. Leighton worked feverishly, clearing and resetting tables throughout the night.

The entire pub cheered and booed along to a game of baseball that was playing on the pub's multiple television screens. The constant ebb and swell of sound was starting to give Leighton a thumping headache.

Leighton rubbed the base of her ponytail, hoping to dissipate some of the tension knotted just under her skull. She backed into a waitress and earned herself a glare as she herself nearly knocked over a tray of drinks. Leighton mumbled a quick apology and retreated to the kitchen, hoping to catch a moment to herself.

As soon as she trudged through the doors one of the assistant chefs pushed a trash bag into her hand. "Please and thank you," she said.

Leighton grimaced and grabbed the bag before backing out of the kitchen into the noisy pub. Leighton weaved her way to the back of the restaurant, passing groups of guys bent around pints and felt their gazes on the back of her legs.

The air outside wasn't much cooler than the stifling heat inside of the pub but Leighton was thankful for a break from the constant chatter. Leaning against the brick, Leighton closed her eyes, taking a moment before she tossed the garbage into the large container in the alley.

Leighton pulled out her ponytail and rubbed her head absently, tying to alleviate the throbbing headache and deciding to ask one of the waitresses for aspirin when she couldn't.

Leighton collected her hair, throwing it back up as she prepared to return to her post. She stopped when she noticed the Goosebumps on her arms. Confused, Leighton blew out a long breath, stilling when it froze in front of her. She only knew one thing that could do that.

Leighton looked around for him, starting slowly down the alley. The moon hung high in between the two buildings, casting a formidable glow over the tight space. Not trusting her voice, Leighton kept moving, eyes focused.

She heard a moan and stopped walking, her foot hanging in the space before her. Leighton turned slowly, looking back to the garbage can and spotting a pair of legs sticking out from behind it.

From the other side of the alley, a tall man approached the trash bin, moving with purpose. Leighton recognised him instantly, Tate.

She started moving, not sure what she was planning to do but knowing she had to help the ailing person. Tate got there first, crouching out of sight. A burst of light sent Leighton into a sprint.

"Tate!" Leighton screamed, rounding the corner of the industrial garbage bin. "Tate, stop!" This time she wouldn't be idle, she wouldn't be a bystander.

Tate was leaning over a middle aged woman, his hand hovering just over her chest. At first, the light seeping from her chest was so blaringly white Leighton's eyes were blinded and she was forced to throw up a cautionary arm to shield her eyes from further harm.

"Tate!" Leighton called out again as her vision returned. "Stop! Don't do this."

Tate didn't answer, perhaps he couldn't. Leighton watched as he remained hunched over the girl, light oozing out of her, drawn out by his hands. Just like Jack and Rudd, the light crawled away from the body and sunk into the ground, leaving long trails of frost behind.

Leighton shivered as she watched, calling Tate's name again but getting no response. It wasn't until the woman made a strangled, final sound that Leighton was able to spring into action.

She lunged forward, knocking Tate's body away from the woman as the last tendril of light snaked out of her chest. Without Tate there to catch it, it wavered and then evaporated into the air.

"No!" Tate yelled, "NO!" He rounded on Leighton, eyes scorching with fury. "What did you do? What did you make me do?" Too shocked to move, Leighton just watched as Tate scrambled onto his knees and put his hands over the woman's corpse, closing his eyes. He held that position for a long moment before he rocked back on his heels.

"You were killing her!" Leighton said, feeling the tension rolling off of him. Whatever had just happened, it hadn't been good. She felt the need to slink into the defensive.

Tate stood, moving so quickly and coming so close, Leighton actually stumbled backwards. He didn't wait for her to find her balance, he pressed closer, anger and despair hanging in a heavy cloud around him.

"I don't kill people," he said darkly, intensely. "I help them." Tate turned and pointed at the woman on the ground, leading Leighton's eyes to her. "I was helping her."

"You were―"

Tate didn't let her finish. "You just killed her, completely. Indefinitely."

Leighton's mouth fell open, dread dragging her stomach lower. "No, I―I was trying to save her from you. I was helping her, she was going to die, I was just trying―"

Tate grabbed onto Leighton's shoulders, spooking her. "That light you saw coming out of her, that was her soul. I was collecting it. That's what I do. It's my job to collect the souls of the dying."

"I don't―"

"Understand?" Tate filled in, "no kidding."

Leighton licked her lips. Her entire mouth felt like it was filled with sand. "That woman's soul, what happened to it?" Truthfully, Leighton didn't have to ask that question. She somehow knew innately what his answer would be. She couldn't forget the way it simply vanished.

Tate released her, taking two steps backwards and placing his hands on his hips. "It's gone. It went somewhere I can't control."

"What do you mean?" Leighton asked sharply, guilt stinging the back of her nose and eyes. She looked down at the woman lying in the center of a web of frost and had to look away.

"I don't know!" Tate yelled, "Okay? When souls fade on their own they don't go anywhere. That's the end of their existence. Done. They don't move on, they just disappear."

"Move on?" Leighton repeated, "What are you talking about?"

"Leighton?"

Leighton turned at the sound of her name, finding Emma with the backdoor to Dante's Tavern propped open. Emma had her arms crossed over her chest, as she waited for a response. Leighton was thankful for the garbage can in between them. She wasn't sure what frail hearted Emma would do at the sight of a corpse.

"One minute!" Leighton called back breathlessly, she blinked a few times to combat tears.

Emma scowled. "Is that your boyfriend? You can't just sneak off to make out with dudes, Leighton! You're still a newbie!"

Leighton swallowed, trying to steady her voice. "I'm not, he's a customer. Give me a second." Disgruntled, Emma let the door slam shut.

"I need to go," Tate announced, face immobile.

"Tate," Leighton started, a tear escaping. "I'm sor―"

"Don't apologize to me," Tate snapped, furious again. "Apologize to the woman you just killed." Tate made a swift exit, shoulders hunching as he made his way down the alley, taking the cold air with him.

Leighton drew in a breath as the summer's heat returned, warming her body but not her heart.

The fourth of July seemed to sneak up on Leighton, coming without much warning. Sitting in the backyard with Karen and Tom made Leighton miss the hustle and bustle of Dante's Tavern. At least at work, Leighton didn't have time to think about Tate or the woman she later learned was named Audrey Packer. Officially, she died of a heroin overdose.

After Audrey's death, the local paper released a full page spread on the drug problem in America, focusing specifically on the filthy places drug users decided to shoot up and the terrible conditions their unhygienic tendencies left their bodies susceptible to.

Tom stood by the barbecue, trying to look confident despite the black smoke that was crawling out the underside of the lid. Karen laughed adoringly at him, using a paper plate to fan herself off.

"Lucky the rain was delayed," Karen mused, making conversation. "Hopefully it stays away long enough for the fireworks!" Leighton hoped for the opposite, the sooner she could curl up in bed, the better.

"Even the clouds love America!" Tom said cheerfully. Leighton decided to overlook this particular comment.

Karen grabbed an armful of condiments and laid them out on the picnic table as Tom set burgers into buns and Leighton grabbed three cans of soda. To avoid hurting Tom's feelings, Leighton covered her burnt burger with heaps of ketchup and mustard.

"I invited the Nortons over," Karen said, smoothing a forkful of relish onto her food. Leighton paused, her burger hovering in front of her face. "They declined though, I guess everything is still hard on them."

Leighton took a bite and chewed without thinking, making an effort to swallow. "They probably wouldn't want to be around me," Leighton offered.

"Oh, Leigh," Karen sighed, "why would you say that?"

"I just meant because me and Jack were the same age," Leighton amended, not meeting her mother's eyes. Leighton hoped Karen would rethink inviting the Nortons over again. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to look them in the eye when she knew the truth about their son.

Lunch passed with minor setbacks. Tom spilled mustard down the front of his shirt and had to drive home to change before the parade and Karen had to take a call from work during the latter half of the meal.

When Karen had hung up and Tom had made his way back wearing a crisp white shirt, they made their way to the parade happening in the main street of town. Main street wasn't anything special, just a few hundred yards of cracked pavement and potholes.

Half of St. Hope gathered together to watch the cheerleading squad from the high school shake red, white and blue pompoms while the marching band blared America the Brave. Leighton joined the crowd, waving a pintsized American flag.

Kids scrambled along the front, grabbing candy the performers threw and smiling with round cheeks tattooed with American stars. Karen elbowed Leighton's side and smiled, shaking her shoulders in an attempt to liven her up.

Leighton threw a hand over her eyes, glancing up at the large balloons on display as they passed overhead. She looked around after, unable to stop herself from smiling. The atmosphere was infectious.

Her smile dropped when she spotted Tate across from her, watching the parade and then turning to watch her. Without thinking, Leighton raised her hand in a wave. Tate turned and shouldered his way through the crowd.

Heart buried somewhere near her stomach, Leighton followed the crowd as the parade came to a close and the town moved to the large park at the end of Main Street. Families claimed patches of grass, laying out checkered blankets for their kids to sit on.

Teenagers chased each other, girls shrieking out in laughter as the boys caught them. Leighton caught sight of a group she knew, Bethany was among them. She was wearing yellow. Leighton never said hello.

Leighton and her mom found a seat while Tom grabbed some drinks. The grass was lush from all the rain in the past weeks, Leighton picked at it absently, eyes searching for Tate as her hands moved.

Karen wrapped a careful arm around her daughter, bringing Leighton's head to her shoulder as Tom returned with a few bottles of water. They sat together as the sky darkened and the first of the fireworks went off, lighting up the sky and filling Leighton's heart with every echoing boom.

Halfway through the show she got an itch in her legs and got up to walk, leaving Karen and Tom tangled up with each other. Leighton walked slowly, keeping one eye on the show as she walked laterally.

Total anonymity came with the dark, except for the isolated moments when the fireworks would cast light down on the spectators, illuminating their faces for brief moments. There was only one person who couldn't hide in the shadows.

Leighton found him after a few moments of walking. Tate was bent over a young girl, no more than nine or ten. With the crowd's applause and the sound of the fireworks themselves, no one heard the cries of the girl or the sound of pain from Tate himself as the last of the girl's essence entered his skin, leaving a distinct mark.

When the process was over the grass was frozen and Tate's energy was spent. He rocked backwards, pulling his knees up and resting his forearms on them. Perhaps feeling her gaze, Tate looked up to lock eyes with Leighton.

This time, no words were shared between them. Leighton looked from Tate to the little girl and then turned away, unable to bear it. Tate didn't call out for her. Instead, he went his own way, heading away from the festivities.

Leighton returned to her family and sat apart from them, close enough for them not to notice the distance but far enough for Leighton to feel alone. She wrapped her arms around her knees, closing her eyes. She was exhausted.

The walk home was short. Leighton barely noticed the distance she covered as she was too wrapped up in her own thoughts. As they walked, sirens rang out somewhere in the distance. Leighton knew who they were for.

Leighton had never been so thankful for the haven of her bedroom. For a long moment she soaked in the silence, staring at her wall as she collected her thoughts. When she refocused, her cheeks were wet.

Wiping away tears, Leighton pulled her laptop onto her bed and turned it on, opening a browser and waiting for the page to load. Once it was she typed in St. Hope, Leighton Connors. She waited as the results loaded.

Leighton didn't have a reason for waiting so long to look up the story that was following her. She thought, perhaps, that when it boiled down to it, she was simply afraid of what she was going to find. And more importantly, she was afraid that Tate was right.

The first link told her everything she needed to know.

LOCAL GIRL PRESSES SEXUAL ASSAULT CHARGES, ACCUSED COMMITS SUICIDE.