Crossroads (21 page)

"Bad memories," whispered Silky, turning away.

"Hmmph," said Clem, frowning. "Lot more than bad memories, I reckon."

"Bad enough, they can kill you," muttered Silky.

Chapter 28

A fragile silence waited to be shattered as Kira sat on the sofa beside Jen, nibbling her lip and wondering what to do. It was long past darkfall outside, and Sheila  was leaning way back in her recliner, staring at the dead television screen as though watching some show there that only she could see. Kira knew that she and Jen might just be able to walk out the door now, and Sheila wouldn’t even notice. But she couldn’t bring herself to do so, not when Sheila was in such pain.

"We didn’t do it," she said, quietly, praying it was true.

Sheila didn’t reveal in any way that she had heard. Kira glanced at Jen, and Jen shook her head to confirm that they hadn’t
,
not this time, anyway. Charlie’s death was just part of the Falling Apart. Not her fault.

"We didn’t do it," she repeated, quietly.

"Eh," said Sheila, frowning, her eyes still unfocused.

"I’m sorry," said Kira.

Sheila shook her head. "Didn’t do what?" she said, finally finding Kira’s eyes.

"Charlie," whispered Kira. "We didn’t have anything do with it. I promise."

She couldn’t tell if Sheila was looking at her like that because she was angry or confused.

"What the hell are you talking about?" said Sheila, at least clearing that up.

"I told you about all the people that died since... since the night at the show."

"But that wasn’t your fault," agreed Sheila. "I mean... if any of it happened."

"It happened."

Sheila wiped a tear from her eye. "Charlie never acted like... I never ever thought he’d do something like this."

Sheila studied Kira’s face as though reading her mind, and for an instant Kira felt as though she almost could, as though her father were inside there again. She wished that he were. She’d have given every ounce of her privacy for the rest of her life to feel him with her like that again. Then the feeling was gone.

"You’re awful smart for a little girl," said Sheila, softly. "Maybe too smart for your own good."

Kira smiled, sadly. It wasn’t the kind of compliment you wanted to smile too much over.

"Why is it everything going to pieces?" muttered Sheila, at last.

Kira shrugged. "I think it’s because of the
Empty-eyed-man.
He’s really to blame somehow."

"Destruction. Decay. Rot," muttered Sheila, obviously surprised by her own words, as though they were just popping into her head. "Hatred, rage, war, lust, avarice, greed-"

Kira nodded. "I think he feeds on things like that."

"Atrophy, degeneration, corruption," said Jen, as though the list were some grievous song, and she was picking up the chorus. "Debauchery, depravity, malevolence."

It sounded to Kira like a spell, like witches hovering over a cauldron, but then Jen’s off switch clicked, and she stared straight ahead again, as if she’d never spoken.

"Weird," muttered Sheila.

She half-heartedly flipped on the television, but for some reason she didn’t turn on the volume. Then she ambled into the kitchen, and when she returned she plopped herself back in the recliner, resting a platter of food on the sofa between her and Jen. Kira slipped onto the floor, nibbling a sandwich and staring up at Sheila, feeling the minutes ticking by. The flashing light from the television behind her seemed to soften, then harden Sheila’s face, changing it subtly with each glimmer. It was like trying to catch one of the pictures a cloud made and hold it. For just an instant Sheila  looked like her mother, and Kira gasped, feeling the stirring of a sob deep down, but she willed it away, swallowing.

"Why haven’t you turned us in?" she asked, quietly. "Really?"

Sheila  studied her for a moment. "Because I know about being different."

"Have you ever seen the
Empty-eyed-man
?"

Sheila  frowned. "No
."

"He almost caught Jen and me last night."

"Why do you call him that?"

"Because he doesn’t have any eyes."

Sheila  glanced at Jen.

"She dreams too much," said Jen, taking another giant bite of her sandwich.

"That’s what you dream about?" asked Sheila, turning back to Kira. "A man with no eyes?"

"They aren’t dreams," insisted Kira. "At least they aren’t all
just
dreams. He’s real. Way too real."

"And what does he want? Why is he after you?"

Kira bit her lip. Thinking about the
Empty-eyed-man
caused her to lose her appetite. She placed the rest of her sandwich back on the platter.

"I’m not sure," she said, thinking of the Oculet.

Did Sheila need to know about that? What good would it do for her to know?

Sheila ’s forehead scrunched up. "If you don’t know what he wants, then what do you know about him? I mean other than the fact he doesn’t have any eyes."

"He’s the one who owns the Grigs."

Sheila nodded. "And these Grigs kill people."

"Yes. But you don’t believe me, do you?"

"I’m just trying to understand-"

"Your mother would believe me."

Sheila  sighed. "My mother’s dead."

Kira nodded. "But she’s not gone."  

Sheila was silent, chewing her own sandwich.

"Even if that’s true," she said, at last, "my mother believed... a lot of things. Honestly, I’m not sure what she believes anymore."

Kira nodded. "She’s seen the shadows."

"What shadows?"

"Most times shadows are just shadows. Sometimes there are things
in
the shadows like the
Empty-eyed-man,
like the Grigs. Why are you mad at your mother?"

Sheila sighed. "I’m not mad at her. We just don’t have much in common. I’m alive, remember?"

Kira didn’t know what to say. She would have given anything to be able to say two words to her own mother, to hold her, to feel her warmth again. Sheila seemed to read her thoughts.

"Your mother really was killed, wasn’t she?" she asked, quietly.

Kira nodded.

"I’m sorry," said Sheila.

"Are you mad at
your
mother for dying?" asked Kira.

Sheila’s jaw dropped.

"I think sometimes I’m mad at my mom and dad cause they died," whispered Kira. "But I don’t want to be. It wasn’t their fault. I just am. Are you?"

When she turned back Sheila’s mouth was closed, her eyes were watering again, and she was nodding.

"Willy, Willy," muttered Jen.

Chapter 29

The rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall above the television reminded Kira once again that she had allowed herself to be lulled for too long. Her empathy for Sheila should not have held her here. She should have broken her vow and slipped away somehow with Jen. But for the life of her she couldn’t think of a time when she might have.

When Jen shifted nervously on the couch Kira immediately understood the telltale way her lips moved without making a sound, her eyes flashing about like a ferret’s. Sheila  frowned.

"What’s the matter with her now?"

"Trouble," said Kira.

If Jen was that upset then this was no time to be telling little white lies to Sheila .

"What kind of trouble?"

"I don’t know yet," said Kira, watching Jen’s face, "but she doesn’t usually get this alarmed unless Grigs are around."

"They aren’t real, Kira."

"They are real. You don’t want to meet them."

"Kira, have you believed this stuff all the time you two have been on the road?"

"Before that."

"That a man with no eyes and killer creatures were after you?"

"Yes."

"Where do these things come from, then? What do they want? Why do you think they’re here, now?"

Kira shook her head. The questions were coming too fast, and if she couldn’t answer them to Sheila ’s satisfaction before she certainly had no time to try right now.

"Because Jen
knows
they’re coming," she blurted, as though that should be self-evident. "They don’t like that. They’re used to sneaking up on people, but when Jen’s around they can’t."

"Well, let’s have a look at them, then," said Sheila , glancing out through the front window toward the back of the Diner. One lone security light lit the gravel path.

"No!" said Kira, hurrying to Sheila’s side. "If they’re coming we have to get ready to leave."

"We aren’t going anywhere," said Sheila. "It’s almost bedtime."

"You don’t understand," insisted Kira, as Jen rose to her feet. "If you don’t believe me then at least let me show you."

"All right," said Sheila, at last, although she said it more like a sigh.

"Get your purse," said Kira. "Put every dime you have into it."

"Don’t be silly."

But Kira could see that Sheila  read the fear in her face.

"Please," she whispered. "Just do this one thing, and I promise I won’t ask you again."

"All right," said Sheila, turning reluctantly toward her bedroom.

"Everything!" shouted Kira.

"All right!" said Sheila .

Kira was pleased to hear just the slightest tinge of fear in her voice, too.

Jen stood in the center of the living room, staring out through the front window into the night, and Kira could see terrible things written in her eyes. Things from the past. Things in the future. Maybe things right now in the present. She followed Jen’s gaze, and for just an instant she thought she saw shadows slinking along the walk outside. Then they were gone. She crossed to the reading lamp by the sofa and turned it off.

Hurry up!
she thought, unwilling to break the silence with another shout.

Finally Sheila  came
strolling out of her bedroom. Kira wanted to grab her and drag her out to the car, but she knew that Jen was her first responsibility. Sometimes Jen acted like a guardian angel. Other times she could be as listless and helpless as a newborn. Kira’s mother had told her more than once
if anything happens protect Jen...because she will protect you.

She took hold of Jen’s hand and whispered to her.

"We have to go now, right?"

Jen nodded, her lips quivering in silent speech. Kira couldn’t tell whether she was trying to warn
her
or to ward off what was waiting outside somehow, but after a few tugs, Jen followed her to the front door. Sheila reached for the knob, but Kira placed a hand over hers and shook her head. Sheila  gave her a look, but waited.

"Ready?" Kira asked Jen.

After a moment Jen shook her head. It wasn’t a good time.

"Are we going or not?" said Sheila, sounding really irritable this time.

Kira knew that Sheila was still just humoring her and Jen. Sheila was used to going to bed early and opening the diner well before the sun came up. There was no way Kira could tell Sheila  that if she lived she probably wouldn’t be opening the diner in the morning, and maybe not ever again.

"Grigs," whispered Jen.

"No
Empty-eyed-man
?" Kira whispered, making sure.

Jen shook her head. "Go now," she said, nudging Kira.

Kira nodded to Sheila, and she opened the door. Cool night air rushed in, and with it the scent of rotting flesh.

"What the hell?" said Sheila .

Kira slapped her arm,
ssshing
her with a finger across her own lips. This time the shadow that crossed the walk was definitely there, and Kira was glad that the room to her back was darker than the night. She stiffened, hoping that Jen might shield all three of them long enough to get away.

The Grig waddled across the lawn between the diner and the trailer, its body lolling left and right as it sniffed the air loudly. Out of the shadows beside the diner three more Grigs appeared, shuffling up to the first, huddling in the starlight thirty feet from where Sheila ’s car sat between them and the trailer. One of the creatures turned toward the open door and stared directly at Kira, and she heard Sheila suck in her breath.

But just when that Grig finally looked away, out of the shadows behind the trailer more of the deadly creatures trotted to join the first arrivals. Sheila’s yard was becoming a convention of the nasty beasts. Kira glanced between the diner and the house next door. Across the road a stand of trees nestled in close around a small office building with all its lights off. Small black shadows crept stealthily along the roofline
.

Sheila nudged in beside Kira, and for a moment Kira was afraid she was going to rush out onto the stoop and shout at the Grigs to get the hell out of there. But something caught the closest Grigs’ attention, and they disappeared around the corner of the diner. Jen prodded Kira, and Kira knew that it was time to go. She trusted Jen to get them down the stoop and to the car safely. Getting away was something else. If the Grigs heard the car starting up they would probably charge it like a pack of wild dogs.

The three of them crept down from the stoop and crouched behind Sheila’s car. Kira was glad she didn’t have to tell Sheila not to open the door yet. The sound was sure to alert the Grigs, and the interior light would give them away. But in a moment Kira heard a dry crackling sound, and flames burst through the window of the block building across the street, reaching up with greedy fingers high above its low roof. Then there was the weirdest audible
oohing
from the Grigs. To Kira’s left, almost behind the trailer, more flames licked the air, and she realized that the big group of Grigs had been very busy. A house on the other side of the block was leaping into flame.

They were setting the whole street on fire, trying to roust her and Jen out like flushed birds. She hadn’t realized they were smart enough or skillful enough to do something like that. Evil enough. But not that smart. Now she knew better.