Desolation (12 page)

“That’s how I always look, you sonofabitch. You hit me!”

“You hit me first.”

“You deserved it!”

“Sorry I called you Goat-molester,” Virgil said. “It was the first thing that came into my head, honestly.”

“I don’t need your damn apology!”

“Then why are you here?”

“I came here to kick your ass!”

“You might want to do that from a standing position.”

“Screw you! I’ll get up in my own time!”

“Right. Sure. You wet yourself, by the way.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake …”

Javier struggled into a sitting position, then wiped at his crotch with dismay.

“Need some help?” Virgil asked.

“Not from the likes of you!”

Virgil shrugged.

Javier rubbed his chin. “You sucker-punched me.”

“No, I hit you back.”

“Yeah, when I wasn’t expecting it. I might have concussion. If my brain swells tonight, you’re to blame. Everyone will know you killed me.”

“Not if I leave you out for the bears.”

“There are bears?” Javier said quickly, looking around like he expected one to come ambling through from the bathroom.

“This is Alaska,” said Virgil. “We have everything here. Javier, are you sure you don’t want any help getting off the floor? You’re a long way down, and it’s a long way up.”

“I can do it myself,” said Javier. “Look at you, talking like an old man. You probably need those handles in the tub, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” said Virgil. “I also have a seat in the shower.”

“Ha! Like an old man!”

“Says the guy who can’t get up off my floor.”

“I’m waiting for my second wind!”

“What are you doing here, Javier? Why’d they even let you out?”

“Let me out?” said Javier. “It’s a retirement village, not a goddamn prison camp! I leave when I want to leave! If I want to catch a plane, I catch a plane! Don’t you be treating me like I’m an old man. I ain’t dead yet!” Moving slowly, and carefully, Javier turned over on to his hands and knees.

Virgil watched him. “Did you travel across the country just so you could hit me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Javier wheezed, crawling to the wall. “Hitting you was a bonus. Hitting you made the trip sweeter.”

“So why are you here?”

“The mystery,” Javier grunted. Using the wall to steady himself, he started getting to his feet. Virgil stared at him. He knew about the murder? How the hell did he know about the murder?

“My doppelgänger,” Javier continued. “Want to … see him for myself. See if he … really is my double.” Finally, Javier was standing again. “Oh, thank Christ,” he muttered.

“Someone looks a little like you and you immediately get on a plane?”

Javier glared. “You said he looked
exactly
like me. That’s what you said.”

“I know what I said, but you couldn’t have known that I wasn’t exaggerating. You took my word on something like that? Why?”

“Because I want to see him, goddammit. Is that so hard to understand? If I have a double who looks just like me from years ago, I want to meet him.
Comprende?
”

“You can’t meet him.”

“The hell I can’t! Where’d you see him? Just tell me where you saw him and I’ll do the rest.”

“He was in my neighbour’s house …”

“Well, okay!”

“… killing my neighbour.”

Javier paused. “What’s that you say?”

“You heard.”

“My doppelgänger killed your neighbour? That’s what you’re saying?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“Well … why?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do the cops say about it?”

“That’s complicated.”

“In what way?”

“They’re in on it.”

“In on what?”

“The murder.”

Javier frowned. “You’re going to have to start at the beginning.”

“I was here. I looked into my neighbour’s house as your doppelgänger killed him. He snuck out, and before I could call them, the police turned up. The Chief of Police, actually. They took the body out in the middle of the night and covered up the whole thing.”

“Say it ain’t so.”

“I wish I could.”

“What kind of pills are you on, Abernathy?”

“Heart medication.”

“No pills that would make you hallucinate or imagine things or go crazy?”

“No crazy pills, no.”

“Cos it sounds like you’re on crazy pills.”

“I know how it sounds.”

“And you’re saying my double, my doppelgänger, is a killer? And you don’t know his name?”

Virgil hesitated.

“You do!” said Javier, eyes widening. “You do know his name!”

“I showed an old picture of you I got off the internet to the lady who delivers the mail, asked if she recognised this person. She said his name was Oscar Moreno.”

“My picture’s on the internet? Am I one of those internet stars I been hearing about?”

“No. As far as I can see, internet stars are cats and dogs and animals who do funny things.”

“Like Mr Ed?”

“I don’t think you’re quite getting it, but that’s okay.”

“And where does this Moreno guy live?”

“Across town,” said Virgil. “I looked him up in the phone book.”

“Just like you used to do on the show.”

“I guess.”

“Is that what this is?” Javier asked. “Are you falling into some delusion where you can no longer separate reality from fiction? Do you think we’re in an episode of the show right now?”

“If we were, you’d be Ernesto Insidio, evil mastermind, and I’d have to punch you again.”

Javier let a slow smile creep on to his face. “I think you might be nuts.”

“I really don’t care.”

“I actually think you might be losing your marbles. Do you know your own name? Tell me, are you Virgil Abernathy, washed-up television actor, or the Shroud, crime-fighting hero?”

Virgil looked at him, and shrugged. “I can’t be both?”

A
MBER’S HANDS WERE GETTING
better. They were still stiff, still discoloured, but the throb had reduced to almost nothing, and she could actually move her fingers now. She tested them on the walk from Main Street to the Dowall Motel, wriggling them a little in their bandages. The iPad was in the bag on her back and it bounced with every step she took. She was walking fast. After a day spent in her human form, she was ready to crawl out of her own skin.

She passed a park where little kids played on jungle gyms and swing sets while their parents looked on. The afternoon had turned to early evening, but it was still bright, still way too bright, and it was cold and getting colder, and they were all wrapped up in thick coats. Amber barely felt it. She started up the hill, keeping her eyes on the motel at the top. She envisioned herself walking into her room and stripping off her clothes and shifting, and had to bite her lip to keep from moaning.

A car pulled up alongside her, its window down.

“Hello there!” the driver said brightly.

Amber frowned at him and kept walking.

He was fat and balding, unexceptional, but his smile was intense in its friendliness. “I was wondering if you could tell me where Daggett Road is …?”

“I’m not from around here,” Amber said.

“What was that?” the driver asked, keeping pace.

“
I’m not from around here,
” she repeated, louder.

He shook his head. “Sorry, still can’t hear you.” He pulled in ahead of her and Amber stopped walking. He got out, holding a map. He wore a bowling shirt that did nothing to hide his bulk.

“I’m not from around here,” Amber told him again.

“I’m just looking for Daggett Road,” he explained, coming closer.

“I can’t help you,” said Amber. “I don’t live here, I’m not from here.”

“But look,” the man said, holding out the map. “I know where
it
is, I just don’t know where I am.”

Amber started to back up. “I can’t help you.”

“I won’t take up much of your time,” said the man. “I’m just trying to get to Daggett Road.”

“Please stay back.”

“Why?” the man asked, a wounded expression on his face. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m just asking for directions. Are you scared? Why are you scared? I’m just asking for directions.”

“And I told you I can’t help you.”

“But you haven’t even tried.”

“I’m not from the area.”

“I just want to find Daggett Road. Can you show me where we are on this map?”

“I don’t
know
where we are.”

“Of course you do,” the man said, and chuckled.

“Sir, I don’t know the name of the road we’re on, I don’t know how to find it on a map, and I don’t know where Daggett Road is. There’s a bunch of people down in the playground you could ask.”

“What playground?”

“You just passed it.”

“Yeah?” he said, and looked around. “Didn’t notice it. Maybe you could help me find the playground on the map?”

He stepped towards her and she held up a hand. “Stop.”

“Stop?”

“Stop where you are.”

He laughed. “This is America, young lady. Land of the free. You can’t tell me what to do. If I want to walk, I walk.”

He took another step, and another, matching her backwards steps.

She snarled. “Sir, if you take one more goddamn step, you’re going to regret it.”

“Yeah?” said the man, and then he showed her the gun he was holding under the map. “Somehow, I don’t think so.”

Amber’s eyes widened. The gun was an automatic, and it had a silencer on the muzzle.

“Don’t do it,” the man said. “Don’t change. Moment I see horns, I’m putting a bullet between them.”

She didn’t need to ask him why he was here.

“Where is he?” the man said. “The Ghost. Where is he?”

“Who?”

“The Ghost of the Highway,” the man snapped. “I know he’s here with you, so where
exactly
is he?”

She thought about lying, but couldn’t come up with a way to exploit a lie, so she decided on the truth. “He’s keeping an eye on the Hounds,” she said. “You know about the Hounds, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I know about the Hounds. But where is he?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “He drives around a little. Checks the perimeter.”

He aimed for her head. “
Where is he?
”

Amber swallowed. “Over that way.” She jerked her head to show him.

“Then we’re going in the opposite direction,” the man said. He motioned to the car. “In you get. Go on. No, the driver’s side.”

“What?”

“You’re gonna drive us right up to those Hounds, and I’m gonna sit beside you and keep this gun pointed straight at your gut.”

“I can’t drive.” She held up her hands. “I can’t grip the wheel.”

“What?” He shook his head. He looked furious. “What the hell did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Amber replied. “It was a guy like you, someone who wanted to take me back to the Shining Demon. He did this.”

“Shit.” The man stared at her. He started chewing his lip. “Shit. Well, I can’t drive. I gotta keep the gun on you.”

“Don’t know what you want me to do about it.”

“Shut up,” he said. “Shut up and let me … Okay, right, Plan B. We walk outta here.”

“Walk out of town? That’s
miles
.”

“You think I’m happy about it? Walk ahead of me. We stay away from anyone we see, you understand? If you try to be sneaky and alert someone to what’s going on, I kill them, you dig? Get going.”

They got to the park and cut across it, staying out of sight of the kids and their parents. Every minute or so the man would issue another instruction to steer clear of houses or roads or people walking their dogs. They got to an old walking track and stayed on it for a while.

“So who are you?” Amber asked.

“I don’t recall saying anything about small talk.”

“This isn’t small talk,” she said. “I think I deserve to know the name of the man who’s going to deliver me to the Hounds.”

She heard the smirk in his voice. “Yeah, maybe. Name’s Phil Daggett – though most people know me as the Yukon Strangler.”

“Serial killer?”

“There is not a name for what I am.”

“You a friend of Elias Mauk, then?”

“He’s never had the privilege of meeting me. But he will. When this is over and I get the power I want, they’ll all wanna meet me.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. His face was red and his breathing was laboured. He wasn’t used to this much exercise. Neither was she, for that matter. She didn’t want to imagine what her own face looked like.

“You’re still alive,” she said.

“Eyes front.”

Amber looked ahead as she walked. “You’re still alive,” she repeated. “Most of the killers who sign up with the Shining Demon wait until they’re dead to … Wait. You
haven’t
signed up with him, have you?”

“No more talking.”

She stopped suddenly, and turned.

Daggett pulled up, confused. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You haven’t made a deal with him, have you?” she asked. “So why are you here?”

“Get moving.”

“Not until you answer my questions.”

“I will kill you right now if you do not start walking.”

“The Shining Demon wants me alive,” she countered. “So come on – what’s in it for you?”