Eyes Ever to the Sky (A Sci Fi Romance) (The Sky Trilogy) (18 page)

Hugh sat up and the pain lanced the backs of his eyes. He pressed his fingers to his eye sockets and waited. Then he opened them again. “I think it might’ve worked. At least...” He looked up, trying to remember. “I think I remembered something more.”

“Really?” she asked, her eyes widening. “What?”

“
I don’t know.” He dug his finger into the soft brown sand, drawing the image he had seen. Slowly he traced the shape burned into his brain like an after image of a flashbulb in the darkness— the tall cylinder topped with an oval. Hugh shook his head. What was it?

“
The water tower?” Cece said, examining his drawing. She lifted her eyes to his. “You had a vision of the water tower?”

Hugh pointed to his drawing. “This is the water tower?”

Cece nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It looks like it. It’s the right shape anyway. It’s the one they just built on Guidings over by the landfill. Is this what you saw?”

“
Some of it, yeah.” Hugh ran a hand over his forehead. Most of his vision was a blur, like images viewed out a car window at eighty miles an hour.

Cece stood, brushing her sandy hands on her cut-off shorts. “Well, let’s go.”

He squinted up at her. “Go? To the water tower?”

She nodded, holding a hand out to help him. He accepted and she pulled him to his feet. 

For a moment they stood, feet planted on the sand, a warm summer breeze teasing back the strands of her dark hair. Her hand was in his. He savored the supple curve of her palm, the delicate brush of her fingers on his own. Then she released him and turned away. He stood, staring, wishing he could go back to touching her again.

When they got to the main road and set out toward the water tower, the sun was just brushing the tops of the trees. Cece looked up at the sinking sun and frowned.

“When does your mom expect you home?” Hugh asked, kicking at a hunk of gravel buried in the long grass on the road’s shoulder.

Cece shrugged, frowning. “Mama was out cold. She’ll probably be zonked out until morning.”

Hugh dug his hands in his shorts' pockets. He was about to answer when a semi-truck clattered by, spewing a cloud of exhaust in their direction. When the rumble faded, he turned to Cece. “You don’t have to do this. I can go alone.”

Cece shook her head. “Nuh uh. Not with a psycho killer on the loose.”

Hugh raised an eyebrow, smiling. “
You’re
going to protect
me
?”

“
What? You don’t think I can?” She swiveled and lifted her fists, a playful smile dancing across her face. “You think you’re so tough because you’re six-four?”

Hugh nodded. “Six-five,” he corrected her. “Yeah, I’m pretty tough.”

Cece stuck out her bottom lip and waved him forward. “Give me your best shot.”

Hugh held up two palms like boxer's mitts. “You’re the one who’s going to defend us, remember?” Her eyes were twinkling with mischief. He pointed to his outstretched palm. “Go ahead. Put one right here.”

Cece looked from Hugh’s face to his hand. “Really? Really hit you?” 

“
Really.” He lowered his hand to make it easier.

She considered this for a minute, reached back and punched his palm.

The smack was loud, a good solid punch, but Hugh hardly felt it. He pulled back his hand, shook it tenderly and mouthed
Ow.

Cece smiled and dropped her fists to her hips. “Told you I could defend us. Bring on the psycho-killers,” she said, turning forward.

Hugh nodded, but suddenly felt cold. His eyes flitted to the dark shadows between each pine. Where was the beast now?

By the time they got to the water tower, the sun had disappeared behind the treeline and the sky was a beautiful orange and purple smear. As they approached, Hugh could tell the tower was the image from his vision, though why he’d seen it was the real mystery. They shuffled to a stop beneath it and Hugh looked up, hoping something would jog his memory. It rose about ten stories with a cylindrical concrete base. Up above, the curve of the oval water basin bowed out above them. The side read
Auburn Township
in big green letters. Hugh waited, shifted, waited some more. A mosquito landed and bored into this arm. He swatted at it and looked up. What was he doing here?

“
Well,” Cece said, studying his face, “anything?”

He looked around the shrubs that bordered the field. The two-foot-high grass shifted lightly in the twilight. A truck thudded by on the road beside them.

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “Sorry.”

“
Maybe it's another building nearby.” She squinted into the dark, off into the distance.

Suddenly a figure strode out of the shadows: a man maybe a couple years older than Hugh. He was tall and muscular, though a little pudgy around the middle and he was eating… Was that a cake right out of the box? Hugh jumped in front of Cece, his hands in fists.

The stranger raised a cake-filled hand in greeting.

“
Jesus,  Jopari,” the stranger said, “where have you been? You look like crap.”

CHAPTER TWEN
TY-FOUR — CECE

Thursday 7:54 p.m.

Cece stared at the stranger in front of them, a raw anxiety snapping through her like an electric current. Tall and broad shouldered like Hugh, they could’ve been brothers with their dark brown hair and brown eyes. This guy looked four or five years older with long wavy locks, olive skin and a pouty mouth set in an impish smirk. The stranger had on a white Haynes t-shirt, board shorts and flip flops, like he was ready for a beach party. And he was eating a whole cake out of the baker's box. The chocolate frosting clung to his fingers as he took another giant bite and chewed. He tossed the box into the weeds and brushed his hands on his shorts.

Was she dreaming? Cece blinked and shook her head. Nope. Just losing her marbles. 

“Who are you?” Hugh asked, not moving, not even blinking. His forearms tensed.

The man chewed a few more times, then shook his head. “You ask who am I?” His voice was still thick with cake. “Gods, Jopari, I've been all over this hell-hole looking for you. We were supposed to meet here at the tower and you never showed. What happened to you this time? And who’s the broad?”

The broad? Cece crossed her arms over her chest, an angry indignation swelling.

Hugh just stood, watching.

The guy pulled a plastic soda bottle from his shorts' pocket and took a swig, shaking his head. “Ah, damn it. Total wipe?” He strode forward and peered into Hugh’s eyes like a doctor. Hugh stumbled back.

“
Stop!” Cece said, stepping forward. “What're you doing? Who are you?” She planted herself in front of the stranger and glared at him.

The stranger laughed, sending a wave of goose bumps up her arms. “Where’d you find her, Jop? The back of the line at the
Jersey Shore
auditions?” He snorted at his joke, then raised a dark eyebrow at Cece. She frowned. He held his soda out in her direction. “Thirsty?” She shook her head. He shrugged and took a huge gulp. “I love Mountain Dew.” He glanced at the bottle. “How do they come up with this stuff?”

Cece frowned. “We're here for answers, not soda. Who are you?”

The stranger stepped closer, peering down at Cece, more amused than annoyed. He waggled one dark eyebrow. “I could tell you who I am, sweetheart, but if I tell ya,” he lifted the corners of his mouth mischievously, “I gotta kill ya.”

“
Enough!” Hugh stepped between Cece and the stranger and peered into his face. Was that some recognition dawning behind all the confusion?

The stranger slapped a hand on Hugh’s shoulder. Hugh stiffened, but the stranger tugged him forward. Hugh reluctantly followed him. They stopped a few feet away, heads bowed together and began whispering. What were they saying? Cece couldn't help it. She tip-toed forward, close enough to catch their words. 

“…thought you’d come alone, Jop. Can’t blame ya cause of the difficulties with your noggin, but this chick,” he shook his head, “she complicates things, my friend.”

Oh God, this guy made her mad. “I can hear you,” Cece said, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Course you can, sweetheart,” the stranger said, stepping back. He addressed them both now, spreading his arms wide like he was giving a speech. “You two can call me Nomad. Jopari, Hugh, whoever you are these days, I need you to meet me back here in an hour.
Alone.
” He stressed the word, looking at Cece.

She frowned. “Why should he?”

“Because,” he said, smirking, “if he doesn’t, he’ll never know what he is or where he came from.”

Cece looked up at Hugh. His eyes were still trained on Nomad. Somehow that made her angry. “Why should he trust you?”

Nomad dug a candy bar out of his pants and took a huge bite. Then he continued with his mouth full. “He knows why, he just doesn't remember. If you don’t come, Hugh, you’ll never know what is hunting the nice people of this town.” He flashed Cece a set of perfect teeth, marred with gobs of chocolate. “And you’ll never know how to stop it.” With that, he turned and strode through the long grass and into the trees. The shadows curled around him until he was a blotch of darkness, until he was a swish of leaves beyond their line of vision.

Cece stared after him. What the hell had just happened?

She watched Hugh as he stared toward the wooded path where Nomad disappeared. Hugh’s face was twisted into a look of torment. Cece put a hand delicately on his arm. He jumped at the touch, his eyes finding hers, his face melting into a look of dejection. She withdrew her hand and tugged at her t-shirt instead.

She sighed. “You were on another planet for a minute there.”

Hugh stiffened, then let out a nervous laugh. Then his face fell into another look of internal torment. His eyes tracked to the woods that had swallowed Nomad up. Good riddance to bad rubbish was all she could think, but she knew Hugh wasn’t sharing her mindset.

“
You really want to come back here and talk to him, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer. Jealousy stole over her. She didn’t trust that smug idiot one bit. She looked up at Hugh. He started towards the gravel path, then stopped and doubled back for her as if she were an afterthought. She clenched her fists, but forced a smile when he looked at her.

“I’ll walk you home,” Hugh said, sounding far away.

Cece nodded. They were about a half mile from her trailer. The gravel on the shoulder crunched under her flip flops. She stepped over a shard of brown glass and tried to think. What did Nomad say? Some
thing
was hunting the people of this town? What kind of
thing
could do that? Basically, this Nomad character was delusional or schizophrenic, but from the look on Hugh's face, he was willing to believe every word out of the man's mouth. She shook her head. Unless… She threw her gaze to the dark treeline, now lit with only the faintest orange sunset. The murders had been strange, baffling the police. What kind of killer ripped their victim's throat open like that? She shivered.  Whether Nomad was crazy or not, it would get very dark, very fast. Suddenly the fear she had suppressed all day reared its head. She wanted away from here. Now.

You’ll never know what he is or where he came from.
Those were Nomad’s words.
What
Hugh was, not
who
. Cece let her eyes slip toward Hugh shuffling quietly beside her, his head down, his mouth quirked to the side, his hands stuffed in his pockets. From here she could see his fists were clenched like he was holding onto something.

He’s holding onto himself. He's holding on because a storm is coming and he’ll be swept up with it.
She shook her head and looked away. Wasn’t she just projecting? Wasn’t that how she felt all the time?

They reached her trailer park much sooner than she’d expected. The homes were eerily quiet. Each squat little breadbox of a house had the door shut, the windows locked. Only now did her thoughts turn to Mama. Was she still sleeping? Cece would find out soon enough.

She faced Hugh, who stood stoop-shouldered, his face dark. He lifted a smile when their eyes met, but the worry still hung on his face.

Cece gnawed on her lip. “So...” She blew out a breath. “You gonna go back?”

Hugh shrugged his big shoulders. His eyes tracked back toward the water tower. She could just see the rounded top beyond the treeline.

“
You are, huh?” she said, wrapping her arms around herself.

Hugh scratched a hand behind his neck. “Yeah.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

Cece shrugged. “You’re a big boy. I can’t tell you what to do.”

Hugh shook his head. “I need to know.”

“He seems like he may be a few sandwiches short of a full picnic, Hugh. Do you really think you can trust that guy?”

Hugh shrugged. “I dunno, but I gotta see. What if he knows about me? What if he knows what I am?” He pressed a hand to his chest.