The Dead House - Dawn Kurtagich Page 0,89
me the Shyan was here. Haji told me not to trust anyone. Now Brett is gone, and he’s not the Shyan, but he still attacked Carly—but does that mean he deserved to die?—and Juliet is missing, and somehow I can’t stop thinking maybe I’m to blame for that too
Now there are only a few left, and one of them is a killer. One of them killed Brett. Who? Scott? Ari? John? Who can I trust?
Naida. Yes, Naida. Poor, mute Naida.
Dee—can you help me? Can you help me to see what I’m not seeing? Can you light a little torch?
I should talk to them.
100
3 days until the incident
Naida Camera Footage
Sunday, 30 January 2005, 9:00 PM
Basement
“Haji didn’t say anything to Naida,” Scott says in a low, rasping voice. He folds his arms. “It’s weird.”
Ari shakes his head. A new bowler hat stands atop it. He turns to Kaitlyn, who sits in the corner on the mattress, wearing a loose beanie. “Wasn’t he going to help you?”
She shrugs.
John clears his throat. “This needs to stop. I listened to the news. They’re saying you did this. They’re saying you killed—” He breaks off.
“His name was Brett,” Kaitlyn says softly. “Don’t be shy. His name was Brett, John. Brett.”
He looks at her with a pained expression, and his lips grow tight.
“All I know,” Scott says, voice unsteady, “is that Haji was called away. He said he had to leave right then for Fair Island and to give her the note, which I did.”
“What did it say?” Ari asks.
“I didn’t read it,” Scott says, looking towards Kaitlyn, who offers nothing up.
“I’m tired” is all she says. “I want to be left alone.”
“Are you sure—” John begins.
Ari cuts him off. “Let’s go.”
Scott frowns at Ari, who folds his arms. “We’ve all lost Brett; we almost lost Naida. And Juliet is still missing. Are we going to turn on one another as well?”
“And Kaitlyn’s had enough of this,” John adds.
“You’re not one of us,” Ari snaps. “Don’t talk like you are.”
“Yeah, well, maybe Scott’s right,” John says. “We should stop meddling before we end up dead.”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Ari says, “but we’re in this already. Do you really think this Shyan guy is going to leave us alone now?”
Scott shakes his head. “We can try. We can try to put this behind us.”
“You’re a coward,” Ari says, his voice low. He turns to John. “So are you.”
“I’m trying to do what’s best for Kaitlyn, and I think you should be doing the same. She needs help.”
Kaitlyn looks up. “Get out of here,” she whispers. “Get away from me. Judas.”
John’s face falls. “Kaitlyn, please—I’m trying to help you.”
She gets to her feet and walks across the mattress, stepping down and standing before John. Her face is that of someone heartbroken and sick. She is pale and thin, her eyes huge in a sunken face.
“Are you?” she asks.
He lifts his hands to touch her arms, but she flinches, and Ari steps closer. “Yes, I am,” John says. “Please… Falcon…”
“I just don’t know,” Kaitlyn whispers, her eyes filling with tears. “What you said… I can’t afford to believe you.”
Ari steps up beside Kaitlyn. “Everyone out. Let’s let her rest. Come on.”
John’s eye twitches, and he stares at Ari with a locked jaw before finally turning away. At the door, he hesitates and then he disappears into the main basement, heading for the broken window.
Scott glances at Kaitlyn. “I’m going to talk this over with Naida. If she’s strong enough. Think about it, Kaitlyn. Think about just giving up. Please.”
He exits via the stairs.
Ari releases her. “Get some sleep. I’ll keep watch outside for you.”
He makes to leave, but she grabs his sleeve.
“Ari—”
“Are you okay?”
She shakes her head. “No. But I can’t—”
“It’s okay. Here.” He puts his arms around her again, and she exhales into his chest.
“I think John’s the Shyan.”
The words seem to leave her mouth against her wishes and then she stiffens.
“John? Who told you that?”
She covers her mouth, shakes her head. “I’m tired.”
He kisses her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you have to go through this.”
Kaitlyn swallows. “Haji gave me a charm for protection.”
She walks over to her bag, pulls out what must be the bind from Haji—it looks like a knotted rope-braid, coiled with ribbon and clumps of wax—and tries to hang it from the edge of the door. Her arms are weak, however, and she isn’t tall enough.
She begins to cry, still attempting to hang the bind, but Ari gets to his feet