I remained in my imaginary gray room until the truck stopped and pulled me from the quiet. We were on the dirt road. Owen collected what was left of Vaughn from the treeline, stuffing the remains into a trash bag. Hate overwhelmed me. I couldn't watch anymore, so I tuned out.
"Was everyone alright?" Lilla's voice drew my attention to reality. We were in the basement.
She was lying on her stomach on the couch, topless. Angry claw marks from Shay slashed across her exposed back. Leaning over the side of the cushion, she flipped through a book that was open on the floor.
"We stopped Emily before she left her house, but Bash's dad..." Owen's voice trailed off as he stared at my boots.
"Oh, no." Lilla moved to sit up, but Owen held up a palm to stop her. Grabbing her shirt from the table, he flung it at her.
"These cuts hurt, and the material was chafing. That's as healed as it would get."
Owen spun the other way. "You'll have to deal with it. We have things to figure out."
She huffed, but put her top on. "I'm covered."
He turned to find her perched on the edge of the couch, cradling the book in her lap. Looking up at him, she said, "What's first?"
Owen lowered into the chair across from her with a groan. "Create a story for his dad. A car wreck out of town will work. That shouldn't raise too many questions. Then we'll bury him."
She stood. "I'll have it finished by morning."
"Wait," I said. "We're going to bury him? Where? Why won't she make something up so he'll go to the coroner? He should have a funeral."
Owen rubbed my knuckles together and sighed. "He should, and I'm sorry, Bash, but he can't. The story Lilla makes will only work if people don't have proof of anything else. No one can examine him. There's no narrative that could explain the injuries. We'll do it here."
"How? Wrapped in his comforter?" He was right, but it didn't stop me from being pissed.
Sadness filled us both as Owen said, "We'll do the best we can. I promise."
"I need to be alone for a while," I whispered. I'd have liked to check out completely in my gray room, but my emotions were too turbulent to manage that.
As soon as she thought I was gone, Lilla clapped. "I have some great news. Catriona was kind enough to leave some of her blood on the dresser upstairs. I can use it to track her. We'll be able to go straight to her!"
Owen nodded once. "Good. When they realize Jake's dead, they won't stay in Greenville long. We'll worry about that later. We're taking care of this first."
"Of course, I'll get on it now, but I have even better news!" She beamed, and Owen balled my hands into fists. "I found what Catriona was talking about! I think I understand how to give you your own body, and if it works, it'll only take a few days!"
Her carefree attitude annoyed me, but it was great news. I wouldn't blame Owen if he was excited.
"I assumed you'd be happy," she whispered.
"No! I'm not happy!" Owen yelled. "My friend's dad was killed by monsters you helped create. He was a good man and all I can do is bury him in the woods."
Owen clenched my teeth and paced away from Lilla. "We're taking care of him now. Nothing else matters."
"You're right, I'm sorry. That was callous. Years of death and loss have left me a bit numb to it, I'm afraid." She blew out a slow breath. "There's no reason to move him. I'll take everything out there. He'll be ready by morning."
"I'll get Jake and Vaughn's remains and handle that, then I have something to work on. Tell me when you're finished."
She nodded but kept her mouth shut as Owen climbed the stairs.
I stayed in a detached daze while Owen burned the mimic leftovers in the hole I'd dug. Did that even matter anymore? Catriona already knew where he lived.
After covering them, Owen took the shovel to the shed. He collected some tools and a bucket of nails and carried them to the house. Through the window, we could just make out the shape of Lilla working in the back of the truck.
Owen lit the lamps on the mantel. Dropping to my knees, he started in the corner of the living room, wedging a pry bar between the wall and the hardwood floors. It took several attempts, but he got the board separated from the subfloor and pulled it up. I vaguely wondered what he was doing, but couldn't gather enough interest to ask.
For an hour, I watched the repetitive task and let the sound of the boards creaking and cracking as they came up lull me. Owen spoke, but I didn't want to have a conversation, and eventually, he stopped trying. I returned to my painless, empty gray room.
"I'll be gone for a while," Owen said, my voice breaking through the quiet. Early rays of sunlight shone through the trees, and Lilla was still doing her thing in the truck's bed.
My first night without Dad had passed. Lilla's reply faded away as I checked out.
"Everything's done?" Owen asked, breaking a long stint of silence.
I tuned in to see Lilla waiting on the porch and the sun higher in the sky.
She gestured toward my truck. "He's ready. When Marc crosses anyone's mind, they'll remember the good man and father he was. They'll also recall the weekend trip he was taking out of town, and the terrible car accident that took his life. No one will think of a funeral."
This was wrong. He deserved so much better. I wanted to withdraw again, but knew I had to stay.
Owen climbed up next to my dad. As he knelt down to lift him, I yelled, "Wait!"
He froze in place.
"Switch. I'll carry him."
Without a word, Owen let me take over. I looked down at Dad, wrapped in the soft green comforter that had covered his bed for years. Carefully, I lifted him in my arms; the scent of his soap and aftershave surrounded me and my eyes prickled.
I took a second to compose myself, then scooted to the end of the tailgate and stepped down. I didn't remember if Owen had dug another hole. "Tell me where to go."
Owen gave me directions farther into the woods surrounding his cabin than I'd ever been Lilla followed silently.
When he stopped me, I noticed a treehouse. Then, I saw what Owen spent all night making. The wood from his floor was a coffin. The lid was leaning against a tree.
Choking on a sob, I gently laid my dad in the box and knelt beside it. "Thanks, Owen."
"I'm sorry I couldn't do anything better. It's only a plain box."
A brief laugh escaped between my tears, and I rubbed my temples. After a few sniffs, I said, "It's like something out of a cowboy movie. He would've thought it was cool."
Lilla kept her distance. "When you're ready, I'll seal and bury it for you."
I should've been angry with her, but her face was full of remorse as I set the lid in place. "I guess I'm ready. He's not here anymore anyway, right?"
Her mouth pressed into a straight line, and her gaze slid to the trees. "His spirit has moved on. I don't know where we go, but it has to be somewhere better than this."
I gave her a tight smile, acknowledging her uncharacteristic kindness, and stepped away from the coffin. She waved her fingers as she whispered to herself, and the lid sealed onto the box seamlessly.
The ground vibrated in front of me. Tremors grew until the earth quaked and cracked apart in a tumble of loose dirt. The casket lifted gracefully and lowered into the deep hole. More gesturing and whispers, and the dirt closed over it.
I stood there, wide-eyed. How did it happen so fast? Without a word, Lilla waved her hands some more, this time encompassing the entire area.
Before I could ask what she was doing, flowers bloomed everywhere. An explosion of all different types and colors filled every available space surrounding Dad's gravesite.
My jaw dropped, and she shrugged. "I'm not heartless. These will bloom year-round no matter the weather. They're much prettier than a headstone. Now, I'll go to the cabin and leave you to your goodbye."
"Thanks." It came out almost sounding like a question, making her chuckle as she strolled through the trees.
"I'll tune out if you want to be alone," Owen said.
"No, stay." I sat leaning against a tree and thinking about Dad.
I pictured the hours we worked on my truck. He taught me how to clean the transmission by hand, unbothered by spending his day off covered in grease and sucking in fumes that made our noses burn.
When I was little, I loved to stand beside him in front of the mirror while he shaved. He'd let me lather up with way too much shaving gel and pretend to trim my beard with the cover on the razor. Mom took a picture of us the day I tried to make the foamy white stuff match the shape of Dad's scruff and the photo still hung in his bathroom.
The image of him cheering for me as I turned the last corner on the cross country trail sprang to mind, but I quickly shut it out. Track included Coach, and I refused to let him enter my thoughts while I said goodbye to Dad.
Before I went on my first date, Dad reminded me to open doors for her, walk on the street-side of the sidewalk, and get her home before her curfew. I had enough money to pay for dinner and a movie, but he'd given me extra and told me to stop for flowers on the way.
In every memory I had of him, he was spending time with me, teaching me to be a decent man, rooting for me.
"He was a great dad," Owen whispered.
"He was." I wiped away the tears that dripped from my jaw.
A few minutes later, I looked up through the branches. "Was that your treehouse?"
"Yeah, I built it with my dad. I'd hang out there when I needed to escape everything, until my brothers came along." Owen laughed. "Once they could follow me, this became our hideout. No mimic talk allowed, only fun stuff. This was my favorite place to be."
Sniffing, I dried my cheeks and cleared my throat. "Thanks for sharing it with Dad."
Before Owen could respond, I stood and dusted off my jeans to head back. "I guess we should get started."
"I don't know how much you were listening before, but Lilla has a spell she can use with Catriona's blood that'll take us directly to her."
"I heard a little, enough to know Catriona will have to wait."
"Why? Aren't you in a hurry to find her?"
"Definitely. But you've been without a body for too long. Lilla said she'd have one ready for you in three days."
"That's a lot of time. Catriona and Shay might get pretty far."
"Then we'll use Lilla's spell to track her, and they'll have two hunters coming for them."
I kept going, brushing tree limbs out of my way and following the path we'd made. Owen was quiet for the rest of the walk. Before entering his cabin, I stopped to ask, "Are you alright with this?"
"Yeah. It's just a lot to think about."
I smirked and ran my palms over my six-pack. "Hard to leave all this, huh?"
Laughing, Owen said, "No, it's weird that I could be a whole person in three days. What will she make me out of?"
"It's Lilla. Who freaking knows? Does it matter?"
"Hell no, man, I'm getting a body!"
Striding into the kitchen, it surprised me to find Lilla at the counter spreading out an enormous pile of what looked like regular soil.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
She glanced over her shoulder with a smile. "I'm making an Owen. This is the longest work surface."
"You're building me out of dirt?" Owen sounded bewildered. I figured it could have been a lot worse, but kept my opinion to myself.
She pointed at a bowl full of dark liquid sitting on the stove. "Soil and a few other things I've mixed up. I was only missing a single ingredient; a piece of a loved one recently deceased, so that was luck—"
Rage shot through me like lightning. I grabbed Lilla by the shoulders and slammed her against the wall, stopping her words. "What did you do to my dad?"
"I only trimmed some hair!"
My grip loosened, but I didn't let go. She dug in her pocket, retrieving a bag with a light brown lock. Relief washed through me. It was only hair. My pulse slowed.
"That's all. He won't miss it." She sighed.
Livid heat filled me. I released her and rushed out the back door. "Switch. I can't do this."
"Okay. Relax and we'll trade."
I inhaled, held it, and blew the air out slowly. After repeating that for a few minutes, I calmed enough for Owen to take over.
"Are you alright up there?" Owen asked.
Ashamed, I said, "I'm sorry, I lost it. I shouldn't have grabbed her."
"I don't blame you. She should've told you about the hair first."
"She's a giant pain in the ass, but she's still a woman half my size. I could've hurt her! What's wrong with me?"
"Lilla's a lot tougher than she looks."
"I don't care. That was messed up. I'm just gonna stay here for a while."
"If that's what you need. Not for too long though, okay?"
"Yeah." Tuning everything out and feeling nothing in my empty gray room was appealing, but I'd probably done too much of that already. It was too easy to shut off the world and escape the pain. I didn't want it to become a habit.
Instead, I'd observe life like a television show, and not get involved for a while. That would be my break.
Owen went to the kitchen and found Lilla focused on her work. She'd spread the dirt from one end of the counter to the other in a long oval. A few strands of hair poked out of the muck and shone in the sunlight streaming through the window.
Peering over her shoulder, she asked, "Are you making him be quiet until he can play nice?"
Owen huffed. "This is the kind of shit you say that causes problems. I wouldn't make him do anything."
She rolled her eyes. "You two are so sensitive."
"Yeah, and you're so well-adjusted." Owen scoffed.
Shaking her head, she returned to her work. She formed a trench in the soil, before pouring the thick dark liquid from the bowl into the middle.
She lifted a jar and sprinkled half of the sandy contents over the entire thing. Using her fingers, she swirled the sludge around the edges as she whispered under her breath. After a few minutes, it started forming a dough.
"My mom used to make homemade pasta that way. Except the dirt was flour and the creepy shit was eggs," Owen said.
"Those are important exceptions." Lilla grinned and continued to mix with one hand while she dusted the top with the rest of the sandy material.
Owen winced. "I'm leaving before you cut me out like a gingerbread man. I'll be at Bash's cleaning up and getting a few things."
"I'll be here, building you," she said, and he cringed, making her giggle.
In the truck, Owen turned my phone on to find a ton of voicemails and texts. "Do you want to listen to your messages?" I didn't answer, so Owen went on. "Fine, we'll start with the texts."
He scrolled through and read the ones from Emily, Nolan, Lauren, and a bunch of other people. I stayed quiet.
"Your friends care. They've heard Lilla's story."
When I still didn't respond, Owen pulled up my voicemail and listened. They were more of the same—everyone was worried about me and sorry about Dad.
In the second voicemail from Emily, she was crying. "At least text and let me know you're okay. Where are you?"
"Shut it off," I grumbled.
"Bash, tell her you're alright."
"I'm not alright! I can't call and lie about a car wreck! I can't deal with this yet."
Owen turned the key, and the engine roared, but he sat there picking at a frayed spot on the knee of my jeans. When he spoke a minute later, his voice was softer than usual. "If you weren't stuck sharing a body, you wouldn't be able to check out of life. I don't want you to lose everything you care about."
"Well, life sucks right now, and I don't give a crap what I lose."
"I'll text her and tell her you can't deal with things, then. There's nothing wrong with that and you shouldn't make them worry."
I sighed. He wasn't giving up. "Do whatever you want. Just leave me alone for a while."
Owen texted Emily.
Bash: I need some time. I'll call you in a couple of days.
Her reply was immediate.
Emily: I'm here if you need me.
Owen tossed the phone in the glove box.
When he pulled up to my house thirty minutes later, Nolan was waiting on the porch. Exhaling a cloud of smoke, he stood and slipped his silver vape pen into his pocket. Before Owen could cross the driveway, Nolan was already pulling him into a hug.
"Dude, where have you been? I'm so sorry about your dad. He was the best. I'll really miss him. My parents cut vacation short as soon as we heard. I told them I'd Uber back if I had to, but they wanted to be here in case you needed them." Nolan sniffed and rubbed his bloodshot eyes.
I considered helping Owen, but I couldn't find the will. Nolan could have a conversation almost all by himself, anyway. Owen would be fine.
Nolan crinkled his nose. "Dude, you're a mess. What were you doing? You're not staying here alone, are you? You know my parents won't mind if you come to our place."
Owen gave him a tight smile. "Thanks, but I need some time to think."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, thanks for coming by, though."
Nolan squinted at him with genuine concern. "Okay, if that's what you want. I'll be here in the morning though. I'll pick us up some breakfast on the way."
"Alright."
Nolan left with a promise to come bright and early, but I knew Owen didn't plan on being here.
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