Dead Spots Read online

  “Dead spots are alive?” Mackenzie squinted at Grant, unsure of what he meant.

  “To some degree, yes.”

  “What are dead spots? I don’t get it.”

  “They’re doorways into this world, but a little more than that. Sort of like the foyers of this world. The entry halls.”

  “And this world is…?”

  “The world between the living and the dead. A place where nightmares and dreams come true. So for now, you need to concentrate on just the food, Mackenzie. Nothing else. Don’t give it something to twist.”

  “Twist how?”

  Grant rubbed his brow and exhaled with frustration. “I’m trying to avoid provoking the dead spot, okay? I can’t say much more.”

  “Everything you say makes absolutely no sense.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that.”

  As Grant slouched back in his seat, looking worried and a little defeated, she pulled out her cell phone again to check the service.

  “Even in my delusions I can’t get decent reception.”

  Candy set their ice-cold drinks on the table, then teetered away on her high heels to the table in the corner. Instead of handing over a bill, she wrote down a new order for the perfect blonde.

  Mackenzie poked at the ice in the fizzing soda with a straw. “It looks real.” Timidly, she took a sip. The ice-cold carbonated drink washed over her tongue, sweet and refreshing. “Tastes real.”

  Grant removed the straw from his glass and gulped down every last drop of the liquid.

  “Whoa.” Mackenzie was impressed and slightly repulsed. It was very much something Tanner would do. He was a caffeine addict.

  “It’s been a long time since I had a diet soda,” Grant confessed.

  Lifting her hands, Mackenzie ran them over her skull. “Maybe I’m unconscious. Maybe I hit my head. Would I feel an injury in my dreams?”

  Unrolling his silverware, Grant laid out the utensils and spread the napkin over his lap. “Mackenzie, even if you don’t believe me, humor me. Which means put aside all your theories and concentrate on the here and now. Okay?”

  Mackenzie considered his words as she regarded her surroundings. Maybe he had a point. She apparently was stuck for the moment in whatever was happening to her. Reaching into her purse, she withdrew Joshua’s blanket and set it on the table so she could search through the rest of the contents.

  “That’s beautiful,” Grant said with admiration, lightly touching the embroidered flowers.

  “I made it for my son,” Mackenzie answered, continuing to shift the rest of the contents around in her purse.

  “You’re a mother,” Grant said thoughtfully.

  “Something like that.” Mackenzie found her journal and set it on the table while she rolled the blanket up into a tight spool. Once the blanket was tucked out of sight, she flipped her journal open to a fresh page.

  With the attached pen, she wrote: “Stay calm.”

  The simple act focused her mind.

  Grant chuckled when he obviously read what she wrote.

  “I like lists,” she said defensively.

  “It’s a good start to a list,” he said with a grin.

  Plates full of delicious food were set down on the table before them with a slight clatter.

  Candy smiled at them. “Enjoy!”

  When Mackenzie stashed away the journal, she noted that it barely shook in her hand. Acceptance of her present circumstances made it a little easier to cope. Certainly she would awaken at some point, but until then she would eat her fried chicken.

  Cutting a bite-sized portion with her knife, she savored the smell wafting up from the white meat covered in a crunchy crust. The white gravy clung to the bit of food as she raised it to her mouth. She hesitated. Across from her Grant was hungrily devouring his food, cutting huge chunks out of his serving of chicken and shoving them into his mouth. Bravely, she pushed the food past her lips. The chicken was perfect: juicy, tender, and flavorful. The gravy was just a little spicy. Even if she was just imagining the food, it tasted amazing.

  “Here are some fresh rolls,” Candy’s voice said.

  “I love bread!” Grant grabbed one of the hot, flaky rolls, buttered it, and shoved it in his mouth. Chewing, he smiled, his cheeks bulging. He motioned for her to eat.

  Mackenzie really didn’t need any urging. Tucking into her meal, she savored each bite.

  In the corner, the blonde was devouring a huge burger and fries with great relish. Ketchup dripped onto her pink sweater, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  Grant leaned forward, snagged Mackenzie’s chin with his fingers to bring her gaze back to him. “Just eat.”

  “Hey!” Jerking her head away, she frowned.

  With a wince, Grant gave her an apologetic look. “I shouldn’t have done that. Sorry. I’m just worried.”

  “Because we’re in a dead spot?”

  “Yes.” Grant gave Candy a wary look as the waitress strolled past. “Exactly.”

  Mackenzie’s eyes strayed toward the corner table again. The blonde’s hair was now mussed from her shoving her greasy hands through it to get it out of her face as she crammed half a hot dog into her mouth.

  “What the hell…?”

  “Stop looking,” Grant growled. He was eating as fast as he could. He smashed the last of his chicken and potatoes between two rolls and bit into the makeshift sandwich.

  “But it’s just so weird,” Mackenzie answered, her eyes flicking back toward the woman.

  The white blouse the gorging woman wore was now smeared with condiments and taco sauce. With greasy hands, she crammed two tacos into her mouth. Mackenzie stared in horror while the woman chased down the spicy food with great gulps of a milk shake. The blonde’s buttons popped off her blouse and flew across the café. No one else seemed to notice.

  “Look away, Mackenzie. You’re making it worse.”

  Forcing her gaze to her food, Mackenzie continued her meal, but the temptation to watch the gluttonous woman was too great. She stole another look.

  The perfect blonde was definitely not perfect anymore. Her blouse was hanging open and her hair was a mess. Not even bothering with her utensils, she was eating huge handfuls of roast beef and potatoes. Her once slightly plump cheeks were now flabby and thick jowls were forming.

  Mackenzie’s appetite left her and she shoved the plate away with one hand.

  “You should eat more,” Grant urged.

  “I can’t. I’m full.”

  “You should still eat.”

  “I’m full, Grant. Back off!” The words left her mouth a little more sharply than she would have liked even if he was a bit bossy. In the past she was the calm one in the face of her mother’s histrionics, but now she was the one on edge. Grant appeared to be sincerely trying to help her, but her usual Texan geniality was frayed by the events unfolding around her.

  The now imperfect blonde motioned for the waitress again. Her face, hair, and hands glistened with grease. Her body was bulging underneath her clothes.

  Wiping his mouth, Grant said, “You should eat now before it gets any worse.”

  “I haven’t had much of an appetite in a while. Not since—”

  A pang of sorrow pierced her. The visit to Joshua’s grave came to mind and the enormity of what she’d lost bore down on her. Tanner, Joshua, her home … all was lost. Now she was lost, too. Disconnected from reality and trapped.

  “Don’t!”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Give it a purpose,” he replied sharply.

  A bell over the front door jangled as another customer entered. Grant narrowed his eyes, gazing past her toward the newcomer. “What were you just thinking about?”

  Mackenzie twisted the napkin in her hands. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “This way please,” one of the waitresses said behind her.

  Mackenzie knotted the napkin, struggling with the surge of sadness billowing through her. Was she in her car, slowly dying right now? Would
she be joining her little one under the unforgiving darkness of the ground? What would Tanner say? Would he even care? Or would he just continue on with his new girlfriend as they waited for their baby?

  “This is perfect! Thanks!”

  Tanner’s voice.

  Unsteady, Mackenzie looked up to see her ex-husband slide into a booth. A pregnant woman took the seat across from him, her face shielded by her thick brown hair. Tanner yanked two menus out from behind the wire basket on their table and slid one to the woman. Tapping his fingers, he studied the menu.

  “Who is that?” Grant asked worriedly.

  “Now I know I’m dead,” Mackenzie muttered. “This is hell.”

  “Who is that?” Grant’s voice was insistent.

  “Tanner,” Mackenzie answered miserably. “My ex-husband who left me after our baby died.”

  “Damn.” Grant craned his neck, looking around the café anxiously. “We better get going. Nice time is over.”

  Mackenzie watched Tanner take the pregnant woman’s hand and rub her fingers lovingly. The sweet look he once gave Mackenzie graced his face while he spoke to his girlfriend. He couldn’t have hurt Mackenzie more if he had stabbed her.

  “Mackenzie, let’s go,” Grant said, standing.

  Mackenzie gasped in horror.

  Beyond Grant, the endlessly eating woman was in an even worse condition. Rolls of fat burst out from under her clothing and her face was smeared with food. The plates of food she had ordered were licked clean and scattered across the table, yet the woman was still eating. She tore great chunks of flesh out of her own chubby arm, hungrily devouring each bite. Blood splattered the table and pooled on the floor. No one else seemed to notice the woman cannibalizing herself. The customers continued to eat their meals while the jukebox played the first hit from Britney Spears.

  Grant followed her gaze. “Okay, we definitely need to go now.” Standing, he grabbed her arm. “C’mon, Mackenzie.”

  If not for him forcing her to her feet, she probably wouldn’t have been able to stand. Her knees felt weak, her stomach revolting against the food. In the booth behind the woman consuming her own arm, Tanner was laughing and chatting with his new girlfriend, oblivious of Mackenzie or the cannibal.

  “Mackenzie, we need to go now!” Grant tugged on her arm.

  Bone and muscle glistened in the light. The woman continued to devour herself, sucking the flesh off her fingers.

  “I … I…” A scream was welling up from deep within Mackenzie.

  Tanner started laughing at something that was said to him, shaking his head with amusement. Raising his head, he gave a short wave in her direction. Mackenzie’s fingers twitched as she fought back the reflex to wave back.

  Candy stalked past toward Tanner’s table, ignoring the blood-soaked woman consuming her fingers. “Coming, darlin’.”

  “We’re leaving now!”

  Grant dragged Mackenzie about, her feet tripping her. The anxiety attack bloomed again, distorting her senses and crippling her mind and body. It was difficult for Mackenzie to move her limbs properly as her vision tunneled and her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Stumbling, she clutched Grant’s arm with one hand, trying to keep herself upright.

  “Hey, Mac!” Tanner’s voice called out.

  “Don’t turn around,” Grant urged as he pulled her to the entrance.

  “Mac!” Tanner called out again. “Hey, Mac! Over here!”

  Unable to resist, Mackenzie stole a peek over her shoulder.

  Tanner lounged in his seat staring straight at her, grinning slightly. He exuded boyish charm and swagger even while sitting. Pointing with one hand, he said, “Aren’t you forgetting your baby?”

  Dark fingers of horror slid up through her body to grip her mind as Mackenzie’s eyes followed the line from the tip of Tanner’s finger to the old-fashioned baby carriage next to the table Mackenzie and Grant had just abandoned. It was baby blue with a curtain of gauzy tulle edged in white lace that extended from the hood to the edges of the bassinet.

  Mackenzie’s body betrayed her, taking one step toward the carriage.

  “Don’t,” Grant said sharply.

  The wheels were smeared with mud and clumps of dirt clung to the white lace. A small, dark shape beneath the misty material shifted.

  “Mac, you probably really should take the baby. I already got my own on the way!” Tanner called out, grinning.

  Breath stuttering, hands shaking, stomach twisting, Mackenzie lurched in the direction of the carriage. The tiny figure beneath the tulle moved again. Contradictory, chaotic thoughts fought in her mind for dominance. Her arms ached to hold her baby. If she was enraptured by a delusion, then she could hold Joshua one last time, couldn’t she? But what if she drew back the fabric and found something twisted and grotesque?

  Grant spun her about. “Don’t let it get to you!”

  “I just want to hold him one last time!”

  “It’s the dead spot!” Grant tugged her toward the entrance.

  “Oh, ma’am?” It was the waitress behind the bar. She was holding the phone receiver. “It’s your mother on the line.”

  Mackenzie stared at the black receiver. How could her mother know she was here? Clarity began to break through the maelstrom of confusion clouding her mind.

  Devona held out the phone insistently, shaking it slightly. “C’mon … answer.”

  Curiosity gripping her, Mackenzie twisted around in Grant’s grip and wrenched free.

  “No, Mackenzie!”

  Tilting her head, Devona grinned, waving the receiver.

  Mackenzie took the now shiny and sleek receiver from the woman and cautiously pressed it to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Are you leaving your baby again, Mackenzie? Didn’t I raise you better than that? First you do something stupid and kill him before he’s even born, then you just up and leave Shreveport leaving him buried in the ground, then you have the chance to have him again and you just walk away. What kind of mother are you?”

  It was Estelle’s voice. The inflection of every word was perfect. Though Mackenzie knew that her mother harbored in her soul the belief that Mackenzie had somehow brought about the death of her child, the cruelty in the words held a malevolence Estelle’s voice did not.

  “It’s not her,” Mackenzie said, staring at the waitress, dumbfounded at the barrage of nasty comments pouring out of the phone.

  “Mackenzie, don’t feed it.” Grant grabbed the phone from her hand and flung it at the waitress, who ducked out of the way.

  The nasty words uttered in her mother’s voice filled her mind, making her reel. What sort of a mother was she, moving out of state to selfishly start a new life when Joshua was buried in the unyielding earth? A baby’s pitiful cry sounded, plaintive and hungry.

  What if Joshua was in the carriage, hungry and alone, crying out for her?

  Grant dragged her to the entrance, pushed the door open, and attempted to pull her outside.

  “I can’t leave him!” Mackenzie exclaimed, her arms craving to feel her son in them one last time. “I can’t leave him!”

  Twisting her wrists free of Grant’s hold, she pushed him outside, jerked the front door shut, and locked it. There was no way she was going to leave Joshua again.

  Mackenzie whirled about and let out a frightened whimper.

  The café was full of shadows and empty of life. Dry leaves and rotting boards crunched beneath her boot heels. There was no sign of any customers, a bustling waitstaff, Tanner, or the cannibal blonde. The baby carriage and the tiny form hidden within were nowhere to be seen. It looked exactly as it had when she had first entered. Abandoned, empty, filthy.

  Shocked, Mackenzie stared at where she’d just had a meal. The table was broken and listing against the wall. The jukebox was gone and the music with it. The café once more smelled of decay, not food.

  She’d finally snapped out of her fugue state. With a soft sob of relief, she pressed one hand to her chest. “It’s gone. Oh, thank Go
d.”

  The pink pepper spray sat on one of the nearby tables, and, heels thumping against the rotting floor, she hurried over and snatched it up.

  “Hungry,” a voice rasped.

  Twisting about, Mackenzie let out a terrified cry.

  The once perfect blonde sat in her booth in the corner, holding out her skeleton arms. Flayed flesh and muscle dripped from her bones. Her face, neck, and chest were covered in bleeding scratches torn by her own fingers. Huge gaping wounds trickled blood over her flabby naked body.

  “I’m so hungry!”

  Appalled, Mackenzie stared, her body frozen.

  Gripping the edge of the table with a skeletal hand, the blonde pulled her large body upright. Leaves skittered over the table as it wobbled, almost tipping over. Mackenzie watched in horror as a leaf fell into the blood spilling onto the floor and gradually disappeared beneath the surface. The squishy sound of the woman’s bare feet approaching pulled Mackenzie’s attention from the pool of blood. One hand flailing before her, the woman’s tongue lolled about in her torn mouth.

  “Hungry, so hungry,” she whispered again.

  Mackenzie gulped in a deep breath, the coppery smell of blood making her gag. The pepper spray in her hand was terribly insignificant in the face of such a gruesome creature.

  Another table rattled as the woman struck it with her bare thigh, sending it toppling over with a loud crash. The noise jolted Mackenzie out of her paralysis and she held the pepper spray before her.

  “Stay back!”

  “Mackenzie!” Grant pounded on the front door. “What’s going on? Unlock the door! Let me in!”

  “So hungry! I need to eat! I need to eat!” Tears slid over her meaty, torn cheeks and dripped bloody drops off her chin.

  “Go away!”

  “Feed me!” the woman cried out. “Feed me!”

  The torn and mangled woman was almost upon her, but Mackenzie’s feet refused to budge. Her hand shook as she aimed at the face of the cannibal.

  “I’ll hurt you,” Mackenzie threatened. “I’ll do it.”

  A swipe of one skinless hand sent her scrambling backward. Mackenzie pushed aside broken chairs and fell against the dirty lunch counter.

  The sobbing, bloody woman lashed out at Mackenzie again, trying to grab her. Mackenzie clutched the dirty, broken phone covered in spiderwebs and hurled it at the woman. It struck her bloody cheek, eliciting a gasp of pain.