The Knife of Never Letting Go
“Oh, yeah?” he says. “Whaddya gonna do about it? Kill me?”
“I WILL,” I shout. “I’ll KILL you!”
He just licks some rain from his lips and laughs. I have him pinned to the ground with a knife up under his chin and he’s laughing.
“STOP IT!” I scream at him and I raise the knife.
He keeps on laughing and then he looks at me and he says–
He says–
He says this–
“You wanna hear how Ben and Cillian screamed for mercy before I shot ’em twixt the eyes?”
And my Noise buzzes red.
And I clench the knife to strike at him.
And I’m going to kill him.
I’m going to kill him.
And–
And–
And–
And right at the top of my swing–
Right at the moment when I start to bring it down–
Right at the moment when the power is mine to command and do with as I please–
I hesitate–
Again–
I hesitate–
Only for a second–
But goddam me–
Goddam me forever and forever–
Cuz in that second he kicks up his legs, throws me off him and elbows me in the throat. I lean over choking and I can only feel his hand wrench the knife away from my own.
As easy as candy from a baby.
“Now, Todd,” he says, standing over me, “let me show you a thing or two about wielding.”
I deserve it. I’ve done everything wrong. I deserve it. If I had the knife back I’d kill myself with it. Except I’d probably be too much of a coward to do that, too.
“Yer some piece of work, Todd Hewitt,” Mr Prentiss Jr says, examining my knife.
I’m kneeling now, knees in the mud, hand at my throat, still trying to get my breath.
“You had this fight won and then you went and just threw it away.” He runs a finger up the blade. “Stupid as well as yella.”
“Just finish it,” I mumble into the mud.
“What was that?” Mr Prentiss Jr says, the smile back, his Noise bright.
“Just FINISH IT!” I shout up to him.
“Oh, I’m not gonna kill you,” he says, his eyes flashing. “My pa wouldn’t be too happy with that, now would he?”
He steps up to me and holds the knife near my face. He puts the tip of it into my nose so I have to hold my head back farther and farther.
“But there’s lots of things you can do with a knife,” he says, “without killing a man.”
I’m not even looking round no more for ways to get away.
I’m looking right into his eyes which are awake and alive and about to win, his Noise the same, pictures of him in Farbranch, pictures from back at my farm, pictures of me kneeling in front of him.
There ain’t nothing in my Noise but a pit full of my stupidity and worthlessness and hate.
I’m sorry, Ben.
I’m so, so sorry.
“But then again,” he says, “you ain’t a man, are ya?” He lowers his voice. “And you never will be.”
He moves the knife in his hand, turning the blade towards my cheek.
I close my eyes.
And I feel a wash of silence flow over me from behind.
My eyes snap open.
“Well, looky here,” Mr Prentiss Jr says, glancing up over the top of my head. My back is to the deeper woods opposite the river and I can feel the quiet of Viola standing there as clearly as if I could see her.
“Run!” I yell, without turning round. “Get away from here.”
She ignores me. “Step back,” I hear her say to Mr Prentiss Jr. “I’m warning you.”
“Yer warning me?” he says, pointing to himself with the knife, the smile back on his face.
Then he jumps a little as something smacks him in the chest and sticks there. It looks like a bunch of little wires with a plastic bulb on the end. Mr Prentiss Jr puts the knife underneath it and tries to flick it off but it stays stuck. He looks up at Viola, smirking. “Whatever this is sposed to be, sister,” he says, “it didn’t work.”
And SMACKFLASH!!
There’s a huge clap of light and I feel a hand on the back of my collar yank me back to the point of choking. I fall back and away as Mr Prentiss Jr’s body jerks into a spasm, flinging the knife out to one side, sparks and little flashes of lightning flying out of the wires and into his body. Smoke and steam comes from everywhere, his sleeves, his collar, his pantlegs. Viola’s still pulling me back outta the way by my neck when he falls to the ground, face first in the muck, right on top of his rifle.
She lets go and we tumble together on a little bank by the side of the road. I grab my neck again and we lay there breathing heavily for a second. The sparks and flashes stop and Mr Prentiss Jr twitches in the mud.
“I was afraid –” Viola says twixt deep breaths “– all this water around –” breath “– that I might take you and me with him –” breath “– but he was about to cut–”
I stand without saying nothing, my Noise focused, my eyes on the knife. I go right to it.
“Todd–” Viola says.
I pick it up and stand over him. “Is he dead?” I ask without looking at Viola.
“Shouldn’t be,” she says. “It was just the voltage from a–”
I raise the knife.
“Todd, no!”
“Give me one good reason,” I say, knife still hovering, eyes still on him.
“You’re not a killer, Todd,” she says.
I spin round to her, my Noise roaring up like a beast. “Don’t SAY THAT!! Don’t you EVER SAY THAT!!”
“Todd,” she says, her hand out, her voice calming.
“I’M why we’re in this mess! They’re not looking for YOU! They’re looking for ME!” I turn back to Mr Prentiss Jr. “And if I could kill one of them, then maybe we–”
“Todd, no, listen to me,” she says, coming closer. “Listen to me!” I look at her. My Noise is so ugly and my face so twisted she hesitates a little but then she takes another step forward. “Listen to me while I tell you something.”
And then out pour more words from her than I ever heard before.
“When you found me, back there in the swamp, I had been running from that man, from Aaron, for four days, and you were only the second person I’d ever seen on this planet and you came at me with that same knife and for all I knew you were exactly like him.”
Her hands are still up, like I’m Mr Prentiss Jr’s long-gone horse in need of calming.