"Before Dawn"

Chapter 21: Martha's One Good Eye

Dawn didn't sleep well last night when she got back home and cleaned herself up. She was so tired—and full of lumpia—and she figured she'd sleep like a champ. But no. Her chest hurt like hell, evidence that she'd gone up against that hellhound and won. The graphic dreams she'd had of the hellish Mortifer doing all the things he promised he'd do to her invaded her dreams. She had even put on some music. Her slow jam playlist—Usher, Tyrese, some old school Sade and other melodic artists—were eventually lulling her to sleep. But then Wesley popped into her head, and One Republic's "Apologize" came on. That was it. Dawn was up for the rest of the damned night sensing that Martha was right about Beaumont "Mac" Reynolds mysterious escape from the hospital—and Wesley's sudden disappearance.

She feels so down not knowing what's going on with him. She got no sleep what-so-ever, and it sucks for her right now sitting here in Martha's den with the old lady seated and looking at her from the other side of her cluttered desk. Dawn's hair is loose and disheveled like hell, and she feels the weight of the bags under her eyes. Her father—suffering from a hangover, of course—and Cat were seated on opposite sides of her. She'd just finished recapping to Martha everything that went down in the Yorktown Cemetery.

"Good job," Martha said. "I mean, you didn't kill it, but oh well."

Dawn rolls her eyes at Martha's intentional reiteration that Dawn certainly didn't kill the hellhound.

"Buuuut, I guess sealing the door to his entry and exit point is fine enough," Martha said. She smiles, but Dawn can't tell if it's fake or not. "You got some lumps and bruises along the way, did you?"

Dawn pats her chest. "Right here," she said. "My back hurts a little, too. My foot was getting better."

"Could be worse," Martha said, pointing at her grayed-out eye and scarred face.

"I know," Dawn said.

"You know? Well, you should be happy then, especially 'cause you didn't sneak off and do something you shouldn't have and nearly get yourself killed," Martha said.

Dawn doesn't want to talk to the old hag anymore. In fact, Martha's commentary pisses her off—badly. She opens her mouth to tell her how she feels, but her father intentionally cuts her off.

"Uh, one of her friends is missing or something," Bishop said.

"Missing?" Martha said.

"Yeah. You may have heard us mention the name, 'Wesley'?" Bishop said.

"Ah, yes. I do remember hearing ya'll say his name. How long?" Martha said.

"About a day or two as far as we know," Dawn said. She's glad her father interrupted when he did. It was just the right move and timing for her to calm herself. "His parents called Dad last night while I was in the cemetery asking if he was with me." She contemplates telling Martha, her dad, and Cat about the connection between Reynolds and Wesley. She said nothing.

"They said the place was wrecked a little bit when I spoke to them," Bishop said.

"Sorry about your friend," Martha said to Dawn, with no hint of sincerity in her tone.

Dawn replies with, "Thanks", matching the True Believer's lack of enthusiasm. The old lady stares at her. Dawn gives it right back to her, her blood beginning to boil over.

"I had another dream last night," Jimbo blurted.

Dawn and Martha hold their stares a second longer. The True Believer breaks the stare-down, rolls her good and bad eye at Dawn, and faces Jimbo.