his theories were hazy, didn’t seem to make much sense. Until the third creature came along. Unlike the first two she was clearly human. A girl of perhaps eight, with bright red hair. Also unlike the others, she was dressed, as if she hadn’t been out in the forest very long. She wore dirty jean coveralls and a green shirt and was normal in all ways except for the second head attached to her left shoulder. The head, which seemed to belong to a younger Asian girl, was clearly dead and was starting to turn black with rot. It hung there lifeless, stretching the stitches that held it on. Thick black stitches which Spencer could see even at a distance.
He looked at her and was somehow reminded of his last glimpse of the twins, and then suddenly he knew where they came from. He felt stupid for not seeing it before, it was obvious even if it was too horrible to think about. After all, it was all in their name. The Rejected. He realized that his assumption had been wrong. The Perfects weren’t the only ones who survived, they were just the only ones who came out right.
Why did Smiling Jack make these? Was it for some kind of monster’s fun? Jack hadn’t looked like he was having fun when working on the twins. He’d looked frustrated. And in retrospect, maybe even confused. It was like Julie said, Smiling Jack just didn’t think like people, didn’t understand them right. Spencer knew now that whatever else Jack was, he was batshit crazy.
Once Spencer realized the poor girl was a person he thought about calling out to her, trying to talk to her somehow. But how? What would be the point? She wasn’t really human anymore, and even if she was human, there was nothing he could do for her. He would just be putting himself in unnecessary danger, just like when he had come back to warn the kids from his original group.
He watched as she wandered away without seeing him, carefully never looking to her left. Finally he turned away to renew his watch on the bone pile. He thought about Julie again. He no longer felt guilty, not even a little.
* * *
He only saw one other Reject from his perch that day. An older boy, maybe twelve, who looked familiar somehow. His right leg had been moved about a half foot further up the side of his body. And while the boy still walked upright, it seemed to cause him some pain. By nightfall Spencer was beginning to think that he would have to wait another day for his plan and was getting ready to climb down from the branch. But just after the last rays of the sun faded to black he saw movement from Nanny Gurdy’s house.
A form was coming out of the exterior basement door in the back of the house, moving in and out of view as it rounded the tall hedges that hid the bone pile from the house. It was hard to be sure in the dim light, but the shadowy figure was round and walked on two legs and was clearly an adult. Nanny maybe, dragging something heavy behind her.
Spencer climbed down two branches then jumped to the ground, falling hard onto legs that were too cramped to hold him. He fought quickly back to his feet, hiding his blanket/pack under some dead wood and securing the fork and telescope in his waistband. Ignoring the pins and needles pain of his legs he started running as best he could to the bone pile. He had to time it just right. Had to get there after Nanny was gone, but had to be there and gone himself with the prize before the Rejected caught wind of the meal.
Making the distance to the bone pile in record time, he ran to the end furthest from the woods. There was a sickly sweet smell rising from the bones, but surprisingly not an overpowering one. Only a faint miasma in the area to let you know how many bodies lied below. No meat left on the bones meant nothing to decay but the bones themselves.
The moon shone white off of those pale bones, but there was no need to make a