Winter Rose

XVI. Two Sides-Continued

Are you alright? Winnie regarded me, her head emerging slowly from the tangled branches.

Oh yes, I'm fine, I said sarcastically. I've just found out I'm a murderer—possibly a psychotic serial killer—but I'm just dandy.

I was far from alright. A hot, burning anger spread through me, causing a spontaneous growl to roll out, low and threatening. Winnie's eyes widened. She worked backwards against the brush to create as much distance from me as possible. Unapologetic, I turned away from her and focused my attention on the clearing. Sheldon stood in a trance.

The deep scratches left from the unforgiving branches throbbed on my back, but I hardly noticed as I laid—wallowing in self pity—cursing the meddling spirits. To hell with a second chance at life, if that was what they called this ridiculous mess.

What the possessed Sheldon said was true. Winnie was not my guardian angel. She knew what she was doing. She had used me. She hadn't chosen me randomly, she'd had her motives from the beginning. She wasn't on my side.

I could feel her stare resting on my back as I lay watching the entranced body of Sheldon. I knew she was reading my thoughts. Why was she so intent on changing this one event when there were so many countless acts of murder happening every single day? It wasn't like José was a saint of any sort. He was far from it. He'd tried to attack Winter. I, Sheldon, had killed him, saving her. The world was better off without him.

In the clearing Sheldon began to shake. It started from his fingers and worked its way up until his whole body was consumed in spasms. He stood there in the moonlight convulsing like some sort of Frankenstein. His head turned up to the sky and he stared into space blankly, his mouth hanging open in a peculiar manner. Then, all at once he crumpled over like a rag doll and fell to the forest floor in a heap. Silence followed—nothing but the usual creaking of dueling branches in the wind and melodic chirping of crickets.

I pushed aside the bush with my nose for a better look. Is he dead?

Wait! Winnie warned behind me.

His eye lids fluttered and he sat up, rubbing his head, looking bewildered. His dark eyes flitted around the moonlit clearing and rested on his shovel, its handle glinting where he'd dropped it. Cursing, he struggled clumsily to his feet, wavering back and forth for a few seconds. He ran his hands through his hair, looking as if he was trying to remember where the last few moments of his life had gone.

Shaking it off, he headed with determination towards the shovel, and picked it up, along with the large sack and flashlight that lay on the ground, still casting a beam of light off into the woods. He made his way towards José's grave, pulling a pair of workman's gloves from his pocket and strapping them on. Without any hesitation, he began to uncover Jose's body, one shovel of dirt at a time, each scrape sending chills down my spine.

Before we go on, I need to know where your loyalty lies. Winnie projected from behind me.

I stiffened. What do you mean?

Winter is in danger. We need to protect her. In order to do that, we need to stop Sheldon. The only way to stop Sheldon is through you.

Sheldon was protecting Winter when he killed Jose, I projected weakly. I couldn't believe it. She was asking me to side with her against myself. The ultimate betrayal.

It didn't make sense. My memories were telling me that I loved Winter. My mind was full of the two of us, sitting on the barn loft, holding hands, sharing deep intimate thoughts and dreams. I'd thought I was there to fix things with her—whatever mistakes I'd made, so that we would end up together. I was the one who was supposed to save her, she wasn't supposed to be saved from me!