to light and guard

chapter thirty nine

The dark forest loomed over Lana and Mary Eunice as they moved through it, Mary Eunice leading, Lana following as quietly as a shadow, their hands loosely clasped in one another's, fingers tangled together. "Are you sure you know where you're going?" Lana asked, brows quirking together. She placed her feet on a well-trodden path, no crumbling leaves covering it to create a sound, but the number of feet which had tramped down the leaves concerned her. Someone else, something else, had walked this path regularly. This is a mistake. We shouldn't be here. Lana bit her lower lip, wondering if it was too late to turn back now, to change her mind. It would kill her if I did that. She had promised her loyalty to this risky venture. She loved Mary Eunice, and for that, she tiptoed after her through the gloomy, murky forest, wrapped in coats and shivering in the frigid breeze.

Mary Eunice fingered the ring on the necklace around her neck. It had become her new rosary, Lana noticed; she played with it, toyed with it, for comfort where in the past she would have touched her string of beads. "I'm certain. This was the path we all took to get to the cars when we had to leave for any reason. I didn't take it often, but Sister Jude made sure we all knew it, in case there was an emergency and we had to get away. The Monsignor and Dr. Arden park their cars off the other way, and it forks in the middle." She caught her fingers between Lana's and tugged her deeper into the frigid forest, the ground slickened by frost and a thin layer of snow on top of the still leaves. It would be beautiful. Lana's stomach whirled. This place held too many memories for her to appreciate its beauty. In these woods, she'd approached Mary Eunice to gain access to the asylum and damned herself in the process; in these woods, she'd fled the asylum only to stumble across Clara's corpse; in these woods, she'd dashed back into the asylum for safety from the zombies staggering after her and Kit and Grace. She found nothing here but nausea.

The cold air had muted any chance of catching a scent of rot. "Are you sure he got rid of the zombies? Whatever you call them—breathers?" Lana shuddered, her other hand burrowed in the pocket of her coat, squeezing Mary Eunice's tight enough to feel the pulse thrumming in her thumb. "I didn't come out here to get eaten." I can't believe I came out here at all. I can't believe I let you talk me into this. I thought we had both left this place behind forever.

"Raspers," Mary Eunice corrected. Her breath steamed from her mouth in a gray cloud, dancing in the empty air in front of her like a silvery fairy. "He killed them all. Before I left. He killed them all to spite me, because I—I wanted to—" She cut herself off, and pale tears shivered on the surface of her eyes. Lana rubbed her thumb on the back of her girlfriend's. "I tried to give Sister Jude a transorbital lobotomy." Mary Eunice's voice quivered as she spoke. Her thumb and forefinger looped through the ring around her neck, tugging on the chain and sliding the antique band back and forth over it with a faint rattling noise. This isn't just hard for me. This is hard for her. She never wanted to do this. She's only here because she feels guilty. Lana wondered if she should have tried harder to convince Mary Eunice of her own innocence before caving to her desire to come here. I could never have done it. She never would've believed me. Lana didn't understand many things about Mary Eunice's faith, but she knew Mary Eunice blamed herself for every action the demon had performed while inside of her body. Mary Eunice believed she should have had the proper faith to prevent the invasion and faulted every moment she spent, weak and helpless, under the thumb of the supernatural power. We don't even have to go in the place. We'll get Pepper, and we'll leave. We'll take her back to the church, like Father Joseph said. He'll find a place for her. And then we can forget this place forever. We'll never have to come back.

Tears clear as crystals slid down Mary Eunice's cheeks. She bowed her head, trying to disguise them from Lana, but Lana tugged her back. "Hey. Hey. Hold on a second." Mary Eunice pulled onward, head bowed, but Lana dug in her heels. "Mary Eunice." Her breath quivered in her shoulders as she shuffled around to face Lana, her eyes shut tight and mouth set into a thin line. She's afraid, and she's still mourning. Lana took her hand out of her pocket, hoping the close quarters had warmed it, and dashed away each of the tears leaving tracks on her face. "It's going to be okay. We're going to get her away from here. And then we never have to come back, neither one of us. We'll have Pepper, and we'll be free. Father Joseph will find a place for her where you can see her." I should've made her think it over. I should've said no. But Lana knew the torment guilt created in her own stomach when she lingered too long on thoughts of Wendy, of what her need for a story had done to them, and she couldn't bear to think Mary Eunice lived with the same grief and guilt inside of her, festering inside like an oozing wound. Lana caressed Mary Eunice's cheek with the back of her hand, but Mary Eunice pulled back, her whole face jerking. Pausing, hand midair, Lana frowned. "What's the matter?"