Comes the Night (16 page)

The mind was a funny thing. On a dark night, anyone who caught a fleeting glimpse of their casts would rub their eyes. Put down their drinks and say they should call it a night. A trick of the mind. That was their ally on most dark nights. But on this bright night? It was late, well past midnight, and most people in this sleepy town would be... well, asleep. But still, they’d have to be careful.

Alex spoke, jarring Maryanne from her thoughts.

“Where are you heading, Brooke?”

They were down the river quite a ways, near an old covered bridge. But instead of swooping under it, over it, or even going right through the old wooden sides, Brooke suddenly turned onto the road. Automatically, Maryanne corrected her course to follow. The idea of Brooke out there on her own clearly didn’t sit any better with Alex than it did with Maryanne, because Alex followed, too.

“Brooke?” Maryanne said sharply.

“I have a surprise for both of you.” Brooke’s voice told Maryanne she was smiling, devilishly. “An adventure!”

Maryanne knew she should protest. Just as Alex was currently doing in a half-assed way, especially as she realized Brooke was leading them toward the Walker Farm. But frankly Maryanne didn’t feel like protesting. Not even a little bit. Which brought home again just how different she felt out here. It wasn’t just that the grief was set aside when she cast out. Not just the flesh suit back on the attic floor. Other parts of her psyche seemed to compartmentalize themselves away too. Like the fear. The inhibitions.

She saw a Volvo on the road below her.

They were on the Old Road—a narrow road dotted with a very few mailboxes and darkened houses set back from it. And it wasn’t just anyone’s Volvo puttering below her. It was Mr. McKenzie’s. She recognized it from the teachers’ parking lot, where she’d seen McKenzie climbing into it many days after school. She’d even made the mistake of waving to him one day when their paths had crossed in the parking lot, early in the school year. Of course, that was before she’d known what a total jerk he really was. Before he’d sent along the extra math homework when she’d taken that sick day.

Maryanne descended.

“What are you doing?” Alex called.

Brooke hadn’t turned around.

Maryanne laughed. “Small detour.”

“Oh shit, that’s Mr. McKenzie!” Alex said. “But why is he going so slow?”

“Good question.”

They dropped down, but not too far. Still high enough to avoid detection. They found they could easily follow in the vehicle’s wake, but only because it was going so slow. The reason for McKenzie’s snail-like pace soon became apparent.

“He’s drunk!” Maryanne cried.

Alex pulled closer to the slightly-weaving vehicle. “A little, probably,” Alex agreed. “But not completely wrecked, or he’d be all over the place. He’s probably just impaired enough to drive with extreme deliberation.”

“Or maybe he’s stoned?”

Alex laughed. “Now that sounds even more likely. He probably thinks he’s flying along.”

Maryanne felt her own smile widening. “I’m going to mess with him a little.”

“Maryanne! You devil, you,” Alex said admiringly.

Maryanne laughed.

“Want some help?” Alex offered. “I have a little more experience at this stuff.”

“Oh no. He’s all mine.” Maryanne put on a burst of speed.

”Don’t get caught!” Alex called after her.

“I won’t.”

She wouldn’t. It wasn’t like she was going to confront the man. Wasn’t about to move through his car, hover over the passenger seat and pull his hair in a Brooke-esque move, though the thought had crossed her mind. All she wanted to do was... Scare the hell out of him.

She pressed harder for more speed. When she’d overtaken the car, she calibrated her speed with his, then descended so that she was right in front of his windshield, hopefully obscuring his view.

The Volvo braked sharply and swerved right, moving partially onto the graveled shoulder. Then McKenzie overcorrected, and the car shot across the road onto the left hand shoulder where it spun out in the gravel and came to rest in a shallow ditch. Maryanne soared up again. From her perspective up above, she saw the passenger door fly open. Below, McKenzie turned the air blue with his curses, and from the hissing noise his vehicle was making, she figured he must have busted his radiator. Laughing triumphantly, Maryanne melted back into the trees so McKenzie wouldn’t see her.

“Maryanne Hemlock!” Alex said as she joined up with Maryanne again. “Way to school that bully! I didn’t know you had it in you.”

She grinned. “Neither did I.”

When they caught up to Brooke, Alex filled her in.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to buzz his car?” Brooke complained. “I’da helped.”

“Thanks, but it was personal.”

“I can understand that,” Brooke allowed.

Within minutes they were over the Walker Farm. The large, sprawling home was in darkness, as was the yard. As the girls neared, the Dobermans cowered in their kennel, whining softly instead of raising an alarm.

“No way are you going after Seth again, Brooke!” Alex said, and Maryanne was quite ready to back her up. But Brooke wasn’t making a beeline for the house. In fact, she was heading in the other direction.

Her laugh was bitter. “Don’t worry, Seth isn’t part of this plan.”

“You’re done with him?” If she was, Maryanne was glad to hear it.

“Done with him?” Brooke answered. “I’ve only just begun with Seth Walker.”

“Oh crap, Brooke!” Alex said. “What are you up to?”

Brooke headed toward the horse barn. “I told you I had a surprise. I promised an adventure, didn’t I? Getting back at Seth is just the proverbial icing on the cake.”

“Okay,” Maryanne asked, “just what then is the cake?”

Brooke slipped into the barn, moving right through the barn’s wall. The horses took note of her presence immediately, as evidenced by their shrill whinnies. Maryanne and Alex looked at each other, then with a shrug, followed.

“There, there, good horsies,” Brooke was saying. “We’ll ride you carefully.”

Oh, poor horses. Maryanne could feel the cold fear rippling off them. Usually it was the other way around. She’d taken a few riding lessons back in Burlingtion. A couple of her friends had been absolutely horse crazy, so she’d tried her hand at it and sucked. The animals sensed her fear and had no respect for her. But right now, respect was not an issue. They were absolutely terrified of her! She should feel bad about that. She knew she should, but somehow she didn’t feel bad enough to leave.

“What the hell are you doing?” Alex called.

“Going riding!” Brooke didn’t go through the gate, but rose above the frightened horse. She’d chosen a pure white stallion. A moment later, she descended onto its bare back, holding onto its white mane. Her black cast legs stood out clearly against the animal’s white coat. The frightened horse broke out of the stable.

Wait—broke out of the stable?

Unlatched!
Maryanne realized with delight. All the box stalls were unlatched.
But how had Brooke known?

“That’s dangerous!” Alex shouted.

“No, it’s not,” Maryanne said, moving over a stall and mounting a frightened horse. “Even if the horse throws you, it can’t trample you—”

“We simply rise rather than fall.” Alex’s voice rose with the thrill. And she joined her on the back of the black horse she’d mounted. Alex put her arms around Maryanne’s waist and Maryanne felt the strange eerie press of her cast.

The girls laughed as their horse bolted into the night to join Brooke’s. And the laughter rolled through Maryanne like it hadn’t rolled in months. Not since Jason.

And it felt wonderful—this abandon.

Physically, she could feel it, too. Oh wow, the wind wasn’t just blowing through her hair. It was blowing through her! The night’s cool breeze coursed through her black cast as the horses raced frantically down the Old Road. The night’s scents passed through her; the fine mists did the same, thrilling her. And the horse she rode—Oh, crap! Its heart was hammering. Its breath came in great heaves. Despite the cold Maryanne could feel the sheen of sweat on the animal’s back against her legs.

“It’s too much for the horses!” she cried out, rising immediately off the winded animal’s back. Alex did the same, and the now riderless horse just raced on.

“Brooke! Dismount,” Alex shouted.

“Not yet!” Brooke hollered from atop her white horse.

Maryanne and Alex raced to keep up, but even soaring as fast as they could, they weren’t fast enough to keep up to the galloping horse. Brooke’s horse rounded a corner, the sight of it obscured suddenly by the pines. And moments later when Maryanne and Alex also turned the corner, they saw Brooke’s cast hovering there in the middle of the road. The white horse was now a mere ghost of a vision as it raced away in the distance.

“Were you trying to kill it?” Alex’s accusation sounded more fearful than fierce.

“No! I was trying to ride it! Have some fun.”

“Right! And you just—”

“And I just had the time of my life!” Brooke answered. “Just like the two of you did.”

They hovered silently for a moment.

Brooke was right. Riding those horses had been exhilarating. Mind bogglingly wonderful! Yet even in the intoxication of these thoughts, even as Maryanne twisted and turned in the delicious night, even as she distanced herself from her pain and the guilt over her Jason memories, she knew they’d gone too far. And she knew she’d feel it even more tomorrow, long after the elation had worn away.

“Yes,” Alex said, suddenly. “Just like us. You’re right, Brooke.” She turned her face toward the sky. “Time we call it a night, though, don’t you think?”

Maryanne could feel it too. The heaviness that always came after they’d been out for a while was seeping in. “Homeward bound,” she agreed. “Back to Harvell House.” Then a thought occurred to her. “But what about the horses? Shouldn’t we... you know... catch them and take them back?”

“They’ll be fine,” Brooke said. “Besides, that’s the icing, remember? I want Seth to have to go out tomorrow to round them up.”

The girls laughed and started home.

Alex

S
HE WAS LATE
. But she’d be here.

Not for a minute did Alex think Maryanne would be a no show this afternoon. Not after the note she’d tucked into Maryanne’s hand as they’d passed on the stairs this morning:

Meet me at Heritage Park after school. And come ALONE.

We have to talk—A.

Still, Alex waited anxiously, even in this wide-open space. She was sitting in an ancient gazebo at Heritage Park—a little playground about half a mile from school, a mile and a half from Harvell House, which was in the other direction. It was too bitter cold of a day for anyone else to be at the Park. The swing seats had been taken down for the winter, and the old metal slides looked positively abandoned. But Alex was almost comfortable on the wide wooden bench.

They could have talked back at Harvell House, but Alex didn’t want to run the risk of being overheard. She could have told Maryanne to meet her at the little mall. It would have been a helluva lot warmer there, and they could have found a little privacy in an empty corner of the food court. But the food court was too closed in. And all those people... Just thinking about it was enough to send Alex’s anxiety soaring.

Dammit! She hated that feeling—that need she had now to control her surroundings. To ensure an escape route. To avoid situations where she could be confined or hemmed in. And yes, to be able to run, if she had to.

It was getting worse.

In school, she parked herself at the seat closest to the door in every classroom. Usually front row, to the snide amusement of Leah, who shared a few of her classes. The rare times when she’d had to take a seat in the middle of the classroom, had been torturous. She’d broken into a sweat she was sure everyone had seen. Struggled to keep her breath going in and out, without anyone noticing. She’d fought the panic as she tried to concentrate on what her teachers were saying. Fought it so damned hard.

A sudden gust sent a flurry of dry brown leaves rattling through the gazebo. Many of them got caught with the litter of leaves already inside the structure, and they just seemed to blow around and around the enclosure as if seeking a way out. The rustle they made within the roar of the wind seemed like a whispered plea for release.

Alex stood. She unlatched the gazebo door, swung it open and kicked a bunch of the leaves out onto the ground before she latched the door again.

The bench was cold, but her butt was so numb from having sat on it so long, she barely felt the discomfort when she sat back down. But she did feel Connie’s diary rise against her from inside her pea coat pocket as she repositioned herself on the bench. “Hey Connie,” she said automatically as she fished the diary out from the assorted pens, balled-up tissues and coins in her pocket.

She let the diary fall open where it would and began reading. Whether by chance or because she’d read the passage so often, it opened to one of the entries where Connie recounted an assault. But this time, the words on the page gave way to sickening, humiliating mind-pictures. Not of Connie’s assault, but Alex’s own.

She closed the book, wishing she could close off these new memories as effectively.

Yes, it was coming back to her. Another piece had broken back in when her cast returned from that midnight horse ride. Her heart pounded now as she relived it yet again. He’d pushed her face-down on the floor, using the jacket to cover her head and pin her arms as he came down on her, his weight covering her back, trapping her... That goddamned coat! The same one she’d found beside her when she’d wakened. The one she’d wrapped around her nakedness when she’d made her way back downstairs from the attic. She’d shoved that old coat into a black garbage bag and thrown it into the dumpster behind the house. It was long gone. But now, blinking back the tears, Alex wished she had it back.

She’d burn the damned thing.

Alex pocketed the diary as she saw Maryanne approaching.