The Sopaths Read Free

disaster. Except for the absence of Jasper.
    Zelda fixed a meal for Olive. Neither adult was in a mood to eat, but the child gobbled down her food with gusto. It was clear that she felt no remorse for her dreadful act.
    But when it was time for her bath, she said no. Zelda didn’t try to reason or argue with her. “If you don’t get in the tub, I will put you in.”
    “I’ll bite.”
    “Then I’ll hold your face under the water.”
    The child gazed at her mother appraisingly. Zelda’s eyes were focused on distance and her mouth was a thin line. Olive decided to take her bath.
    So had it been a bluff? Abner wasn’t sure. Zelda was like a zombie at the moment, but the wrong nudge could send her into an ugly fit. Olive had realized that, and taken the expedient course. To her mind, drowning was a feasible mechanism, if one had the power to enforce it. Zelda was normally a gentle person, but she had been pushed to her limit. Much as Abner had been when going after a fleeing figure who might have gunned down one of his men. It did not require many such ambushes to evoke deadly toughness in the objects of such mischief.
    When the child was done, Zelda returned to the hospital. “I have to be sure of Jasper,” she explained tightly, kissing him on the way out. “I have locked her in. Don’t let her out.”
    “Understood.”
    As soon as the car departed, Olive called. “Daaady!”
    “Go to sleep,” he called back.
    “I want out!”
    “Mother’s orders.”
    “I don’t care!”
    “Just settle down. She’ll return later tonight.”
    “No!”
    She was in a temper, but that was standard for her. He tried to tune out her continued calls, and went to watch the TV. But it didn’t work; she was persistent and loud. She banged on the door, screaming.
    He couldn’t stop himself from listening. Olive alternated tearful appeals with shouted threats. She was only three years old, but already had a small arsenal of persuasions. And no conscience. What were they going to do with her?
    At last she tired and went silent, but Abner’s thoughts did not ease. They couldn’t keep her locked up all the time. There had to be a more permanent solution. The one he didn’t want to face. Mrs. Johnson had said it, before trying to back off: Death.
    Was he to kill his own child, as he had those orphans? The orphans had been inadvertent; this would be deliberate.
    No. There had to be some viable alternative.
    Zelda returned home in two hours. “It doesn’t look good,” she reported grimly. “He’s in a coma. They say he lost too much blood. There may have been--”
    “Brain damage?”
    She nodded. “There’s nothing we can do but wait. And hope.” She paused, then seemed to force herself to ask what she had to. “Olive?”
    “Locked in. She screamed herself into exhaustion.”
    “I had better check on her.”
    “Maybe you should let her be, since she’s quiet now.”
    “That’s the best time to check her.”
    He had to agree. She went to Olive’s room and unlocked the door. She was back in a moment. “Sleeping like a little angel.”
    “She’s a little demon.”
    Then she was crying. He tried to comfort her, but in this respect she was like her daughter: she fussed herself to sleep.
    He didn’t want to disturb her, so he continued holding her, lying on the bed in their clothing. Whatever they faced, they had to have their rest.
    But as he faded into sleep himself, he wondered: had she locked the door again after checking on Olive? He wanted to check, but would have had to disturb Zelda to do so. That was too much of a sacrifice.
    The phone rang in the wee hours. Zelda leaped up to answer it before Abner really had time to orient himself. She listened for a moment, then set it down, her face drawn. “He’s dead.”
    It took him a moment to orient. Then he was stunned. “Jasper!”
    There was a commotion downstairs: a crash and a scream. Zelda, already on her feet, lurched out the door and into the darkness of the