Ashes to Ashes

I THINK BACK TO THAT NIGHT WE MET AT KAT’S boat, down at the Jar Island Yacht Club. It was then that our revenge plans were born, when we entered into a pact to see this thing through. There were rules. We needed them. Otherwise, how could we trust each other?

Kat was the one who said it.

If you’re in, you need to be in until the very end. If not, well . . . consider yourself fair game. It’ll be open season, and we’ll have a hell of a lot of ammo to use against you.

Each of us agreed. We made that promise to each other. Each of us knew the terrible truth, that the people who know you best have the power to hurt you the worst. Rennie did it all the time. She was ruthless, a master at using people’s insecurities against them. And Reeve. Reeve always knew the perfect way to hurt me.

Lillia and Kat may have forgotten what they promised, but I haven’t. I’m not letting them off the hook that easily. They knew what they were getting into, and they both got something out of it too. I’m the one who was left hanging, and it’s only fair that I hold them accountable.

I know so many ways to hurt them. I know who they love; I know their prized possessions; I know their secrets.

I am the last person they should have turned on. And they only have themselves to blame.

I’m sandwiched between the barn and the open door, watching through a knot in the wood as Lillia races with Phantom to the end of the riding trail. Despite his speed, she barely has to pull on his reins to make him come to a perfect stop. She leans forward and gives his neck a tender pat before climbing out of the saddle and hopping to the ground.

Lillia takes off her helmet and shakes out her hair, and even though the sun is barely out, her hair catches the glow. She’s wearing tight black pants tucked into knee-high riding boots the color of caramel, a fitted wool coat, and leather gloves. Her cheeks are pink from the cold. She takes Phantom’s reins and leads him toward the stables.

He pauses and turns his head toward me as they pass my hiding place. His muscles ripple and tighten, and his black eye trains on me. He lets out an anxious snort. But Lillia clicks her tongue and nudges him forward. They walk down the center of the stable to his pen at the opposite end of the barn.

I remember the day when Kat and I came here to hang out with her. It was one of the first times when we really felt like friends. We didn’t need a reason to hang out. There was nothing to plan or scheme about. We just wanted to be together.

It feels like forever ago.

When Lillia ducks inside Phantom’s stall, I creep out and hurry after her. Each pen I pass, the horse inside reacts. Whinnies and brays, hooves stomping and scraping the stable floor. I’m scared Lillia will hear the commotion and see me, so I break into a run and hide in the empty stall next to Phantom’s.

I walk up to the shared wall. Phantom turns his head as soon as I’m there, but Lillia shushes him. She kneels down on the ground and begins loosening the strap of Phantom’s saddle under his belly.

I lift my hand, ball it into a fist, and then flick my fingers at Phantom.

He immediately bucks up on his hind legs, knocking Lillia onto her butt. He brays, showing his teeth.

Lillia’s stunned. “Phantom, easy, boy,” she cries, then rolls onto her knees and gets to her feet. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.” She approaches him carefully and begins to rub his neck while she glances around, looking for what’s spooking him.

I keep flicking my fingers at him, popping my fists open and closed.

Phantom whips his tail, snaps his jaws, and bucks up again. He lets out a terrifying whine and nearly comes down on top of Lillia. She steps out of the way just in time, but his hoof knocks into her forearm. She falls against the wall where I’m hiding and screams out in pain.

At this point all the horses are crying and bucking and shaking the entire barn.

One of the stable boys comes running. He grabs a rake from the side of the stall and brandishes the wooden handle at Phantom. “Easy, Phantom! Get back now!”

Lillia screams not to hurt him, but the stable boy isn’t listening. Phantom rears up again, his ears pinned, and lunges where Lillia’s cowering. Phantom’s not attacking her. He’s trying to get at me, on the other side of the wall.

The stable boy swings the rake handle like a bat, and it cracks against Phantom’s neck so hard that the wood snaps in half. Phantom steps back and lunges again, leaving the stable boy with only a splintered wooden spear to wield him off.

He’s about to jab when Lillia grabs him, pulls him out of the stall, and quickly shuts the gate.

“I could have calmed him down!” she screams, cradling her arm. “You almost killed him!”

“He almost killed you,” the boy says, panting. “Is it broken?”

Lillia shakes her head. She has tears streaming down her face. She shrugs off her jacket. Her arm is bright red and swollen and already beginning to turn purple.

“He’s never done anything like that before,” she says, wiping her eyes. “I don’t know what happened.”

The stable boy runs off to get Lillia some ice. I hear her crying outside Phantom’s pen. I know exactly what she’s feeling. It’s terrible when a friend you trust turns on you.

A heartbeat later I’m at the Jar Island Yacht Club, standing in front of Judy Blue Eyes, the Catalina daysailer Kat named after her mother. I expected to be more tired than I am, from all the stuff I did to Phantom, but I’m not. I feel strong.

One of Aunt Bette’s books predicted this would happen as I grew more confident and increased my focus. The book phrased it like a warning, but to me it feels like something to celebrate.

It’s clear that my ties to Lillia and Kat are what made me weak. Worrying about them and their problems. If I hadn’t met them, maybe I would have come to these realizations a lot earlier. I’d already be free, in a better place.

Kat’s boat is closed up for winter, with a tarp stretched taut across it and the sail tied tightly to the mast. With the smallest wave of my hand, every knot comes undone. The tarp and the sail snap from their tethers, and the wind carries them away like ribbons.

I lift my hands up and the waves begin to swell. The other boats tied up along the dock bob in the water. But they are nothing compared to Kat’s boat. It’s as if all the energy in the ocean is being pooled underneath it.

Finally the boat lifts high enough. I lower my hand fast, and the thing launches into the air, like the water was a rubber band that I just snapped. The boat hits one of the rocks and is pulverized into wooden splinters.

The dockworkers come running. They can’t believe their eyes. I know one of them will eventually figure out whose boat that was, and they’ll call Kat and let her know it’s destroyed.

Sorry, Kat. But you knew what you signed up for.

Actually, I’m not sorry. Not one little bit.

They deserved to be punished.

Now, Reeve—he deserves way worse. He deserves to die.