Swamp Monster Love

Chapter 22: Ain't No Stopping Me Now

And then, back to normal size, more or less, I reform at its overflowing banks, holding Chip by the collar.

"Is this where it happened?" I ask, sending the rest of the water out to fend off responders. "Is this where you ruined everyone's life?"

Chip whimpers, trying to scramble away. I drag him toward Justin's seemingly lifeless body, untouched by my rampage.

I'm glad you came back, Brian. I think I know what you're going to do.

"Here's hoping you're the only one," I say.

"What?" asks Chip. "What are you talking about?"

"I realized something, Chip. When I was reading Christine's letter. I realized you had never ever asked Christine out. Whenever I see you two together it's like you're trying to brush her off. I mean, who brushes off Christine? You'd date anything vaguely female. But there it was. And then I saw the line someone added to the letter on her computer. The one about me. And then I remembered about her brother. Justin. He was your age, and it's a small town. You must have known him, right? And then I realized."

I drop him next to Justin's body.

"Her password was FindJustin," says Chip. "She was practically begging to get hacked."

"Of course. I mean, with circumstances that ideal, how could you not frame your brother for murder?"

"An opportunity presented itself, Brian. Frankly, I'd say my plan was pretty solid. Under different circumstances I think you'd agree."

"You think I'd agree?"

"I mean, he hasn't even aged," says Chip, staring at Justin. "There are no laws about things like this. He looks exactly the same."

"Really? Exactly?"

"Okay, obviously not exactly, perv. The veins are new. Still. We were just kids. And P.S.–it was Justin's idea to come."

I try the stupid voice. "It was Justin's idea to come."

Chip gives me a disgusted look. He's right though, my dumb voice isn't very potent.

Jets roar past. When I can hear again, there are sirens in the distance, people shouting. The water I sent out isn't going to keep them back much longer, and I'm sure they've had no trouble guessing my destination.

"We were on the dock," Chip says, eyes fixed on Justin's veiny face. "We started shoving. Just goofing, you know? I don't even remember who started it."

"In other words, you."

Yes. Him.

"Shut up, Brian."

"You going to make me?"

He balls his fists like he wants to, and then I think he remembers that I am an indestructible water demon who has every reason to destroy him. He backs off. "Anyway. He went under. He didn't come back up. There it is. Happy now? I killed him I guess. My bad, but it was an accident. I didn't see any sense in getting myself into trouble."

"Like by telling someone he had fallen in the water?! Like by going for help?"

"It was too late. We were miles from help. And I can't swim."

Well. That part is true. Chip is terrified of water, something that makes much more sense now that I understand his murderous history. And, truth be told, I didn't exactly spring into heroic action either, when I first thought Christine was floating in the pond.

But I fully intend to make amends for that now. And Chip will too, whether he likes it or not.

I move behind him, readying myself for what comes next.

"That dumb chick Christine–she wouldn't leave it alone though. Always had to know more. 'What were his last words, Chip? Where do you think he went, Chip? Can I ask you the same annoying questions tomorrow, Chip?' So I told her. I told her the whole thing, or most of it anyway, and I made her promise never to ask or say anything about it again. So instead of bugging me, she started coming here. Over and over, just begging for trouble. Then she started posting things online, trying to get other people interested. It was only a matter of time until trouble found me. Like I said, she was asking for it."

"He was her brother, Chip."

"So?"

A single laugh escapes my mouth, but there's no humor in it. "I hear those things mean something to some people."

"Oh, get off it. You're such a martyr."

Do it now. They're coming.

"Will it let you go?" I ask. "All of you? Christine and Todd too?"

"What are you talking about?" asks Chip.

"Be quiet. I'm talking to Justin."

Chip looks back and forth between me and his nine-year-old best friend, not quite dead on the ground. He makes a run for it. I gather a wave and knock him down. I drag him back.

It will only let one of us go. Only one. Me or Christine. It believes in playing fair. It believes in trades.

"You're practically free already. If it believes in playing fair, why didn't it let you go when it took Christine?"

"You've cracked," Chip says. "You're talking to him, aren't you? You're crazy."

"Oh, yeah. Like me talking to Justin would be the strangest thing about today." I put my dragon face back on to make the point. Chip recoils. I forgot he hadn't seen it before.

"Sorry," I say, switching to the pig face, then back to mine. "But you see what I mean."

I was almost free. But then you came snooping around. It was angry she helped you get away. It dragged me back down.

"Christine helped me?"

You ruined everything!

"Story of my life. Today, particularly. How did she help me?"

She let you get your hand free. She helped you get to the surface.

I had kind of ascribed that to my awesome strength. But I suppose Justin's theory makes more sense. "What about Todd?" I wait, but get no response.

"What about Todd?!"

Who's Todd?

There is a rustling in the nearby brush. A familiar face pokes out. "Uh, hey Bri."

"Todd?"