Thirteen

By Alledria Hurt

When Carey finds her beloved Tyeson dead, she gets a supernatural second chance. In exchange for thirteen souls, Tyeson returns to live none the wiser for the choice she made. But can Carey go through with it? 13 for 1. What would you do for love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alledria Hurt
• Release date: Mar 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393945840

Alledria Hurt

Alledria Hurt is an African-American author of Horror, Fantasy, and Science Fiction novels. She currently resides in beautiful Savannah, GA with her two cats. 

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Broken

TYESON DIDN'T HAVE anything left to say. He shoved his hands in his pockets, his right making harsh contact with the ring box there, and stalked away. Carey watched him go with hard eyes. Their night out had taken a disturbing turn about the time they got to the Ferris wheel. Surrounded by the neon glow of the carnival and the slight breeze of being up so high, Tyeson had started to say something. Then he went silent and Carey waited expectantly. That expectation stayed with her all the way back to the ground where they got off together and moved to get out of the way of those who were trying to get on.

You are never going to ask me, are you? Carey asked as they stood in the grass between the Ferris Wheel and the Midway.

Ask you what? Tyeson asked in return. He had to turn to look at her, his eyes busy scanning the Midway for a prize booth. He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets.

They had been together three years. This was their year, or at least so Carey thought. It was the year they would stop pussyfooting around and finally make a serious commitment. She'd waited for months, through Valentine's Day, and the anniversary of their first kiss, and even the day they first said I love you to this day, the day they first met at the county fair. He had to ask tonight, she just knew it.

Carey closed her eyes at his response. He couldn't possibly be this dense.

You're never going to ask me to marry you, she stated. The chill wind of the late Fall carnival cut between the rides and between the two of them.

I— he began. His face colored. He shuffled and looked away, swallowing hard. His right hand gripped the ring box he had carried with him for weeks waiting for just the right moment. He wanted to whip it out and show it to her, but this wasn't impressive enough. Not for Carey. Not for his Carey, who deserved every single one of the stars hanging heavy above them. He wanted to string them into a diamond necklace for her. The single paltry chip of a stone he had gotten for her wouldn't be enough to show how much he loved her, but he hoped to have his entire lifetime to show her how much more he wanted to give her.

Carey continued. I don't know why I got my hopes up. She wrapped her arms around herself. This really isn't anything to you, is it?

Frozen, Tyeson considered his responses. Nothing would make her happy. If he proposed now, in that instant, she would laugh at him. If he didn't, she would leave. He kicked the sparse grass with the toe of his left shoe. He needed to say something, but the words stuck in his throat. Finally, he settled for saying her name.

Carey.

Don't Carey me, she said. You seriously aren't going to ask me to marry you after all this time. The flare of her temper pushed him further away. He hated seeing it as much as she hated showing it off.

I just— He started again, but got really no further. Instead, he swallowed the just, nothing about them was 'just'. They were the cornerstone of his life. Without her, he would collapse. Except he didn't know how to tell her that, show her that, anything to get her not to turn her back on him exactly the way she was doing, but he had no words. She turned her back, but didn't walk away. He traced the lines of the character on her jacket with his eyes. Finally, without the words to say, he stalked away, his hands in his pockets. They had come together in an Uber, so it didn't matter they were splitting up. They would just take individual rides to their homes. He got to the edge of the fairground and turned back, trying to see her through the crowd. Was she watching him walk away with every knowledge in her heart of how he had abandoned her? Why did he have to be such a spineless lightweight? He cursed his way past the ticket booth and out into the darkened parking area.

Going home meant being without her. Rushing back and professing his love meant getting laughed at. She'd think he didn't mean it because she had to push him to it. It wasn't real and he couldn't think of a future without her, but he didn't have the guts to go rushing back across the grass to tell her everything she meant to him. He just didn't have the guts.

He never had the guts when it came down to it.

Tyeson pulled out his phone from his breast pocket and dialed her number from memory. He didn't know how many times he had called her, but he could guess thousands over their three year span. She had always been his first call in the morning and last call at night. He lived for her. The glow of his phone lit up his face. Her picture stared at him.

Her voicemail picked up immediately.

He ended the call without leaving a message. He had nothing to say which would make this better. If he was going to profess his love to her, it wouldn't be to her answering machine. He pulled up the Uber app and found himself a ride home. It would be five minutes for them to show up. Five minutes. In five minutes, he would be gone. He could return the ring if he wanted. He could. He probably wouldn't. The velvet box felt slick in his hand. The single sapphire ring inside waited, patient, while he walked away from the best thing he'd ever had.

What Tyeson wanted was for her to put her hand on his shoulder. He looked back. Carey was nowhere to be seen among the dazzling lights. He wanted, just for one more moment, to be captivated by her glow. He wanted this not to be over. Yet he stood rooted to that spot waiting for his chariot to take him away.

Carey would never forgive him this. Not now, not ever. The fire in her would burn until the world ended over his failure. Tyeson slumped where he stood, his knees threatening to throw him to the ground. For a moment, there were tears. They came, they went.

A pair of headlights pulled up close.

You Tyeson, the driver called out the lowered window.

Yeah. You Andrew?

Yep. I'm your Uber.

Right. Tyeson got into the backseat. Then they were driving away and Carey was somewhere back there among the twinkling lights of the county fair. He left his future on the fairgrounds.

So you headed home? Did you have a good time at the fair? Andrew's questions got no immediate answers with Tyeson so deeply wrapped in his morose thoughts. The scenery passed by at a fair clip, not quite as fast as speeding, but fast enough Tyeson had to concentrate to see individual trees before they made it onto the highway. It would take about a half-hour to get home.

Andrew fell silent for a few minutes as they rode. Tyeson let himself be thankful for it. The soft sounds of a nearly off radio drifted to him from the front. Then Andrew asked,

Are you okay back there?

Maybe it was the tone, it certainly wasn't the question, which got Tyeson to respond. Whatever it was, he said,

No. I just left the love of my life at the fair.

Really? Andrew sounded interested. Tyeson hoped it wasn't faked. He didn't really wanna be one of those stories drivers told when they all got together at the bar. Let me tell you about this sad sack I drove the other day. He could just hear the story starting that way.

I just couldn't, he paused. I just couldn't propose. I love her. I want her. I need her, but I couldn't propose to her.

Wow, that's rough, Andrew said. He turned the radio off. Do you want me to turn around so you can go talk to her?

No, I—. Tyeson couldn't come up with the word he wanted. He wanted to talk to Carey. He needed to tell her the truth. He had a ring in his pocket the whole time. He'd carried it one night after another, every time they were together, for months waiting for the right moment. It never came. Now it never would. He tried to start again and the words failed him all over again. Finally, Tyeson just shook his head.

You've got to try again, man. Andrew's words didn't penetrate. He couldn't try again, not with Carey. She would never let him live down his lily-livered response. He loved her for her fire and that fire would make him crispy before she would forgive him.

There was nothing after this.

Despair coated his thoughts with slime.

I can't, Tyeson said. The sheer ickiness of the next thought brought him up short. If he couldn't live without her, why should he live? He wiped his hands of that thought as soon as it became apparent. That wasn't how things should be. He needed to make it up to her, somehow. He couldn't just give up.

Why can't you? It isn't like you're dead or something.

I just can't. She won't forgive me.

If she loves you, she'll forgive you. That's kinda the point of love.

Except Carey wouldn't forgive. Her heart could be harder than stone, more impenetrable than a castle with a moat full of dragons. He would have to do better than an apology. His gesture would have to be grander than the Taj Mahal. And he just didn't have it.

Andrew, thanks man, Tyeson said. But truthfully, I'd rather not talk. Just drop me off.

There was nothing more to be said and he wanted silence. His heart hurt and his brain sought to catch up with what he had done and make something which resembled a plan. Of course, whatever plan he made would be poo-pooed by his heart which wallowed in despair like a pig in mud.

The ride home was mostly highway, but as they got closer to his home, Tyeson got more morose. He couldn't see the future, but then he didn't assume there would be one. As if the further away from Carey he got, the less he could see if there being anything after that night. His mind turned back to those lights, the multitudinous lights of the fairground and how they turned.

Andrew pulled up in front of his house and Tyeson got out. They said paltry good-byes. If Andrew said anything of substance, Tyeson didn't hear. Instead, he trudged up the front steps of his home and sat down on the front porch. The second chair sat empty. It drew his gaze. How often had he and Carey sat in those chairs talking about everything between them? With her not there, everything felt wrong. He stared at that seat for so long, he saw her in it with her head thrown back to laugh at one of his corny jokes. She loved his corny jokes.

She loved him.

He loved her.

What about this was hard? He plucked out his phone again and dialed Carey's number. By now she had probably taken an Uber back to her apartment and would, he hoped, be waiting for his call. He needed her to understand he loved her. He couldn't just let this pass. He couldn't just give up, could he? The phone rang and rang. Then her voicemail picked up again. He clicked off rather than leave a message. Any message he left would be hollow and he couldn't give her hollow. Tyeson had so much in him that hollow felt like a cheat.

With a sigh, he got up from his seat and unlocked his front door. Every time he thought he had it together, things came crashing down. His hopes nothing more than a precarious house of cards on an unstable table.

Flicking on the lights in the dining room, he saw ghosts of her everywhere. Ghosts of their good times inhabiting his house. She had helped him pick it out. Her opinion affected his furniture. Nothing he touched or saw didn't have some stain of her presence. Nothing. His broken heart clogged his throat and he let himself cry. No one could see. No one would know.

Tyeson wandered down the hall, fingers caressing the walls and tears in his eyes. At his bedroom, he took of his jacket and hung it in the closet. The picture of the two of them together reproached him from his bedside. Her smile. His smile. The sunshine. The beach. Everything about it bright and beautiful and sweet. He picked up the black framed photograph and slammed it to the floor with a shatter of glass. He couldn't look at it.

The act of destruction brought his anger to the fore. Tyeson snatched the sheets off the bed. They smelled of her perfume. His tears continued unabated as he buried his nose in those sheets before discarding them to the floor.

"Carey,' he muttered her name over and over again as he collapsed to the floor before crawling back to the closet. In the bottom of the closet, built into the wall, was his gun safe. Through the blur of tears he tried and missed the combination. He screamed knowing if anyone heard they wouldn't care. He had no one left. No one. The one person he needed had abandoned him.

He hit the combination on the third try and the door opened just enough like an unhinging jaw parting for a sigh. Slamming the door open further, Tyeson smelt the gun oil and with the vestiges of a sick smile, he pulled the pistol from its place.

It shouldn't have been loaded. It shouldn't have been.

His last trip to the range had been months before. He always unloaded it before he put it away. Always. No bullet in the chamber. Nothing. Completely empty. It was the safest way to handle it.

It shouldn't have been loaded.

It was loaded.

The weight of it in his palm told him there was a bullet in it. Just one. His hands shivered. The smell of gun oil mixed with sweat beading on his forehead. He only needed one.

Carey would miss him. The thought brought him up short. She would mourn him. She would...

She'd abandoned him.

His hands moved from a shiver to a shake. The pistol clicked against his teeth and he tasted the metal on his tongue. Tyeson withdrew the pistol and stared into the barrel as if it were the eye of his future. He couldn't see the bullet he could feel inside of it. The answer to his troubles. His broken heart would cease to beat.

Carey would...

Of course, Carey. It was all about Carey. He brought the pistol back to his mouth and shoved it between his teeth. The fear of life without her steadied his hands. It brought him back to himself. He wouldn't live without her. He couldn't.

The gun went off with a bang followed by the thud of Tyeson's body hitting the floor.

CHAPTER TWO

Broken pt 2

CAREY FUMED AS HER eyes bored into Tyeson's back. She hugged herself as she watched him walk away, her own words ringing in her ears.

It wasn't fair.

She did everything for him, but he couldn't do this one thing for her. A single stray tear worked out of her right eye and then down her cheek before the November wind swept it away.

He disappeared into the crowd leaving her with surrounded by cold and neon and a thousand smiling faces which blurred together into a single tableau of shadows. Carey closed her eyes and rewound the conversation in her mind. Well, it wasn't really a conversation. She spoke, he didn't. Cat got his tongue, just like always.

Tyeson had left her to get home on her own. He turned his back on her. Carey fought down the urge to scream at his back. She had no reason not to, but it would look awfully strange for her to be screaming ineffectually in the middle of the fair.

Her phone lit up and she sent it to voicemail. Words were not her friends in that moment. Not when screaming seemed a viable alternative to talking. He had nothing to say to her. She had nothing to say to him.

It didn't make the sound for a message left.

Coward.

Carey started toward the front. By the time she got there, Tyeson would be gone, but she wasn't trying to catch him. Maybe in a few days. Once she'd gotten a chance to get over being angry at him. Maybe. She reached the entrance to the fairgrounds and stood there for a moment before she started walking. The brisk breeze sought to chill her bones, but her anger kept her warm as she walked. She would eventually reach the highway and walking along the highway home would be a terrible decision, but she needed to think. Heartache plagued her. The awareness of wasted time needled her.

Three years. They had been together for three years. She had helped him pick out a house and furnish it. They were a perfect couple, according to their friends.

Except when he was a spineless lightweight and she was a harpy.

They didn't fight. Tyeson wouldn't fight her. They rarely disagreed. Everything went swimmingly. Except they didn't anymore.

Her phone rang again and she glanced at the screen.

What's up, girl? she asked her best friend, Paulina.

Nothing much, just checking in. So how'd it go?

He chickened out and ran, Carey said.

What?

Yeah.

You serious?

Ah huh. None of this made her any less upset. He's a fucking chickenshit.

Hold on, hold on, Paulina said. Where are you?

I just left the fair. I'm walking.

You do realize that you can't walk home from there, right?

Yes.

Look, stay put. I'll come get you and we'll talk.

Paulina hung up and Carey found herself a lit gas station along the road to stop at. She shared her location via Facebook Messenger and waited. Paulina drove like she was qualifying and that meant it wouldn't take long for her to get there. Carey went into the gas station to get out of the wind and wandered through the aisles looking at everything and nothing. She fought the urge to buy a beer and chug it. Drinking was a depressant she reminded herself. Drinking would only make a bad mood worse. She needed to make her mood better, not worse.

Carey needed to find a way to make this better.

When Paulina showed up, Carey got in the car and immediately put her head in her hands.

He's such a chickenshit.

You've already said that, Paulina said as she pulled out of the parking lot. Have you yelled at him?

No, I was perfectly civil when I asked him if he was going to marry me.

Somehow I doubt that. Paulina hit the highway and headed for town without missing a beat. You and civil aren't exactly friends, Carebear.

Thanks.

No charge. And since I'm such a good friend, I'm going to do you a solid. I'm taking you to Tyeson's and you two are going to work this out. If you're not engaged by breakfast, I'm going to be very disappointed.

No.

"Oh yes.