She poured a cup of coffee, greeted her officemates, attended the weekly Monday meeting, then tackled the stack of work that had piled up while she was out.
After a few hours, Ash grabbed her purse and took out the utility knife she’d brought back from Colombia.
MERC.
She ran her fingertips over the engraved letters. Odd that she hadn’t gotten a read off it. This was a real, physical item connected to the man in the legend. It wasn’t a dream or a vision or a rumor or an urban myth. A man who had once lived had owned this knife.
It was proof of what had happened.
“Hey! Glad you’re back.”
Ash jumped and looked up.
Her boss leaned against the doorjamb and gave her a curious glance. “Sorry to scare you. Geez, you look like hell.”
Ash leaned back in her seat. “Thanks. Just what a girl wants to hear after a week in paradise.”
Her boss shrugged and chuckled. “Guess I should have thought that one through. I meant it looks as if you used up every minute of your time away and are exhausted, which is what you’re supposed to do and be. Catch up here at your own pace. The only pressing item is the Russell account.”
“Already did it and gave it to legal for review.”
“Great.” He straightened. “I really am glad you’re back.”
Her boss was a really nice, middle-aged guy, excited that his twin daughters were getting ready for high school graduation in a few weeks. He was just a normal guy.
Her job was normal.
This day was normal.
Everything was normal.
Except her mind was so fucked up.
Ash put the knife back in her purse and turned her attention to the work that had piled up.
The rest of the day went as every other day at the office went. That night, she made herself a quick salad, then opened her computer. She was curious to see if Larry and his group had posted their videos to their travel vlog yet. She never had talked with them about what had happened to her in the pit. Nor did she ask what had scared them away while she was in the throes of her vision—despite their promises to not leave her behind. She vaguely remembered some screaming, but it had blended with what she was seeing at the time, so she didn’t know if it was them or if it was her own mind.
She looked up their website from the card they’d given her. Sure enough, she found several videos covering different aspects of their stay in Medellín. Pretty but banal stuff, they had teasers about upcoming videos that were to reveal shocking and paranormal things happening in a little mountain village just recently opened to the outside world.
Ash felt a twist of tension. She reached up to the glass medallion she wore. Instantly, it gave her that feeling of being connected to him. Peace and warmth.
For sure, she had it bad with her made-up guy. She couldn’t seem to move on from Merc.
She pictured the tall, dark blond guy from her fort vision, imagined the calloused feel of his big hands. He seemed so real that it was almost as if he was there with her. Her infatuation with him felt like a dirty secret, something shameful she had to hide from the world. But that didn’t make her release her necklace.
11
Ash met Kiera and Summer for their weekly Wednesday dinner a few days after her return. Her friends were excited to hear about her trip. She knew the tale she had to tell was crazy. They wouldn’t believe any of it—she barely did.
“Okay, spill!” Summer said. “Tell us everything! Damn, but I wish we’d been able to go with you.”
Ash looked at the table, pulling a complete blank. Where would she even begin?
“Wait—don’t start,” Kiera said. “Let’s put our order in so we’re not interrupted.”
Ash looked over the dinner menu, not having much of an appetite. She missed her Saint Merc…a man who wasn’t real, who’d probably never existed. Or if he had, then he was most certainly dead.
Odd the empty spot he’d left in her soul. Surely, this would wear off sooner or later.
The waiter came by. She ordered a salad of some sort with a side of fries.
Summer smiled and said, “Now go. Everything.”
“I don’t know where to start.”
“How about at the beginning? Your flight out of Denver—was it an easy trip?” Kiera asked.
Ash stared at Kiera. “I’m in love with a man who doesn’t exist.”
Kiera’s jaw dropped. “Not what I expected to hear.” She and Summer exchanged shocked glances.
Summer’s eyes sparked with curiosity as she leaned in. “Everything. I mean it, Ash.”
Ash told them how warm the people of Colombia were, how beautiful it was, and how darkness filled all the empty places.
Kiera frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Something happened in Valle de Lágrimas, and I can’t seem to make it make sense,” Ash told them. “It was just as Sam said—a town still in the middle of all the violence the peace agreements had hoped to settle. Someone had been there before me who did some strange things. I don’t think it was real, but somehow I came away convinced it was. You won’t believe anything I say because it’s too fantastical.”
Summer smiled. “That’s the best kind of story. Let’s hear it.”
“Wait.” Kiera held up a hand. “First—were you hurt?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so, but my mind is messed up.”
Kiera gave Summer a disturbed glance. “Okay. Go ahead.”
Ash told them about the group she met up with, the tour they’d had of the village with its strange pink and orange walls, blank canvases waiting for new murals. She described the decaying bodies sitting in their chairs, facing those walls. She told them about the little weird things, like the man who danced while bullets rained down, blessed medallions, and cursed the death pits.
“He felt like the same guy I had in my vision when we were at the fort planning my trip,” Ash said. “But he couldn’t have been, because the villagers all described him as looking like any one of them, not a tall blond guy.”
Summer blinked. Ash wondered if she’d imagined the slight tensing of her friend’s face. “And the pit? Tell us what happened that night in the jungle. I was so scared for you.”
Ash looked at her friends. Her best friends. They’d been through so much together, from their university days to now. Classes, boyfriends, jobs. Kiera’s husband’s death. Summer’s engagement to Sam. “I think I may have been drugged. I mean, none of it makes sense, but I believed it.”
Kiera nodded. “Or maybe you were hypnotized. I mean, you’re a smart lady, capable of critical thinking. You know that dead people don’t stay in a seated position without any kind of restraints. It’s physically impossible.”
Summer grimaced, then agreed. “It sounds like an exhibit on a Disney pirate ride. If bodies were in chairs like that, then they were made up for show.”
Ash shook her head. “I watched bugs eating the decaying flesh from them, and still the corpses didn’t fall apart.”
“And have you never stuffed peanut butter and birdseed in a pinecone?” Kiera asked. “They could have put real meat on the fake bones.”