The Influence (38 page)

“We should have,” Ross agreed. “But maybe it wasn’t our decision to leave in the first place. Maybe we just thought it was.” 

“Then what makes you think you can fight it now?” 

“I don’t know. But I do. I’m going back there, and I’m going to kill that monster again, and this time there won’t be any resurrection.”  

Dave believed him, and he looked again at Lita’s unmoving form and for the first time in a long while felt the faint stirrings of an unfamiliar emotion: hope. 

THIRTY FIVE 

Intending to take out his suitcase, Ross opened the door of the closet and found himself looking at Jill’s clothes, still on their hangers in all of their multicolored splendor. 

He stared at them, wondering if she was dead. 

No! 

As terrible as the thought was, he had to admit to himself that it was a possibility, and though a fire had already been lit beneath him about returning to Magdalena, this fanned those flames into a conflagration. Quickly, he dragged out his suitcase, pulled a couple of shirts out of the closet, grabbed some socks and underwear from the dresser.  

He’d told Dave that he knew what he needed to do, and he did. Despite his false bravado, he wasn’t sure if he could arrange it, wasn’t even sure it would work, but the basic idea was sound, and the fact that it used the monster’s own powers against it gave him a feeling of satisfaction. Karma was a bitch. 

Even if it didn’t exist. 

He thought about Lita, lying unconscious in a New Mexico hospital, and that made him hurry even faster.  

Did you fuck her? 

Dave’s question had hit him hard. His answer had been honest—he
hadn’t
had sex with his cousin—but he couldn’t deny that he had thought about it, and the knowledge made him feel both guilty and disgusted with himself. 

Although he was fairly certain that
those
thoughts would not have occurred to him had not that creature been shot out of the sky.  

Ross tried to recall exactly what he had seen Christmas night, when that thing had flown over the ranch, tried to reconstruct in his mind the feelings he had experienced at that moment, but so much had happened since then that his memories and attitudes were all jumbled together. Although he couldn’t say for sure what it had looked like when it was alive, he clearly recalled the way it had appeared in the shed, curled into a fetal position, rotting, its flesh melting, its terrifying face filled with a horrible malevolence, and he felt once again the strength of the power that had enveloped him, that had made him believe for a few moments that it really
was
an angel. 

It had influenced him there, and its effects were still following him, not merely following him but spreading, touching those he touched, and he understood now that the only way to put a stop to it all was to destroy the body once and for all. He had tried calling the Cochise County sheriff’s department to determine whether any efforts had been made to do that, had tried calling the Tucson diocese of the Catholic church and asking for Father Ramos, to see if
they
were doing anything, but both inquiries led nowhere. As far as he could ascertain, the sheriff’s office had sent no one out to investigate, and Father Ramos appeared to be persona non grata with the church. 

Wanting some intel on the ground, he had gotten Jackass McDaniel’s number from Dave, and when the handyman answered the phone, he told Ross that he was packing, getting ready to leave. “I’m done here,” he said. “I’m out.”  

“What happened?” Ross asked, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

“What
hasn’t
happened?” 

“I mean, what made you decide to leave now?” 

“My gold turned to shit.” His voice rose. “My
gold
turned to
shit
. All the nuggets I dug out are now little pieces a smelly dog crap.” 

“I’m coming back,” Ross said. 

“Oh no. Don’t do that.” He could hear the concern in McDaniels’ voice. 

“I’m going to get rid of that thing.” 

“The angel?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Other people’ve already tried,” McDaniels said. “But it protects itself. Everyone who’s gone after it’s gotten killed, one way or another.” He paused. “You ain’t gettin’ through, either.”  

“Have you seen it?” 

“Oh yeah. I went out there with Hec the other day. He was a sharpshooter in Iraq, and his wife, Hannah, was kinda
attacked
by somethin’ in her garden, so he had the same thought you did, cut it off at the head. We went out to Holt’s place, but the road’s all dug up and I think booby trapped, so we snuck in through the east side, through Shel Dilson’s land—Shel’s family’s gone; they took off around the same time you did—and we found it, the angel. It’s bigger now. Holt’s shed’s not there anymore, and that thing’s out in the open, and we saw it.” McDaniels took a deep breath. “It’s…different. It’s turned into somethin’ else, somethin’ new.” 

Ross thought of Jill’s paintings. “Like an egg?” he asked. 

“Yeah. And I think it’s ready to hatch.” 

“You said your friend was a sharpshooter. Did he miss?” 

“He didn’t even try to shoot at it. It was too damn scary. We just slunk off. Holt was there, though. We saw him. Him and a bunch a guards. They’re watchin’ out for it, makin’ sure nothin’ disturbs it until it’s out.” 

“Well, I’m coming over there,” Ross said. 

“When?” 

“Now.” 

“You sound sure a yourself, like you know somethin’ the rest of us don’t.” 

“I have a plan,” Ross admitted. 

McDaniels was silent for a moment. “Could you use another hand?” 

“Of course! But I don’t want to trick you into thinking—” 

“You’re not trickin’ me into shit. This is my home. I don’t wanna leave it. I was only goin’ cuz I thought I had to. But if you got a plan, I’m in. We need to stop this sucker now while we still can, before it hatches all the way.” 

“That’s what I thought, too.” 

“How long’s it gonna take you to get here?” 

“I’ll be there tomorrow.” 

“Where are you?” 

“San Diego.” 

“Hell, I made that run in six.” 

Ross smiled. “I need to stop somewhere first. I’ll be there in the morning.” 

“Get here as quick as you can,” McDaniels’ said.  

Ross had called in sick today, and, luckily for him, it was a Friday. Which meant he had the weekend. It was flaky, calling in sick on the first week of a new job, especially with the possibility of layoffs looming, but if he could get back by Monday, he knew he could sell this as a legitimate illness. Since he was a healthy guy who seldom if ever actually got sick, this would probably be his only absence for a long time, and after several months of good work, any doubts that might be raised by this aberration would be put to rest.  

Ross left a note for Jill, in case she came back. He didn’t expect her to return, but on the off chance that she did, he let her know where he was going and told her to stay in San Diego. 

He drove to Phoenix, arriving just before nightfall. He’d skipped lunch and was starving, but before getting something to eat, he headed over to his brother’s house, parking in the driveway next to Rick’s leased Acura. Maybe he should have called first, but that would have involved argument and negotiation, and Ross thought it better to just show up and speak to his brother directly. 

He rang the bell, hoping Rick would answer and not his wife. He got lucky. “Hey,” Ross said as his brother opened the door. 

A look of confusion passed over Rick’s face. “What are you doing here?” 

“I came to see you.” 

“About what?” Rick crowded the doorway, apparently afraid that Ross might try to sneak into the house.  

“How’s Dad?” 

“He’s home. Doing okay, I guess. Mom fell the other day, tripped over something in the garage and broke her hip.” 

“Jesus! Why didn’t anyone call me?” 

Rick shrugged, and Ross wanted to hit him, but he knew that it wasn’t really his brother’s fault. Or wasn’t
all
his brother’s fault. 

He decided to stick to the script. “Listen, I need to talk to Kevin.” 

Rick was instantly suspicious. “Kevin? What for?” 

“I just need to ask him something. Where is he?” 

“I’ll give you his phone number, but I can’t—” 

“That’s fine,” Ross said. “What is it?” He already had his phone out. He typed in the number as his brother recited it, then immediately walked away, back toward the car, leaving Rick standing confusedly in the doorway.  

“What are you—” 

Ross closed the door behind him, cutting his brother off as he put the car into gear and backed out of the driveway. Pretending to drive away, he stopped and parked halfway down the block, using the number he’d been given to call his nephew, hoping that Kevin would answer. 

He did. 

“Kevin,” Ross said. “This is Uncle Ross.” 

“Hey,” the boy said suspiciously. 

He didn’t want to jump right in. “Thanks for telling your dad to call me about Grandpa. I appreciate it.” 

“Yeah, well, I thought it was wrong the way they were treating you. You should hear what they say behind your back.” 

“I know, I know. And, like I said, I appreciate it. But…I was wondering if we could get together. I sort of need to talk to you about something.” 

“You can tell me now.” 

“I’d rather do it in person. Where do you live? I could come over right now if you’re free.” 

The suspicion was back. “What’s this about?” 

“I’d rather not tell you over the phone.” 

He was about to play his ace and remind Kevin that
he
was the one who had bailed him out in Austin, who had paid for his dad’s plane ticket out to Texas and sprung for a good portion of the fees for the lawyer who had gotten him off the arson charge. But Kevin must have been thinking the same thing, because suddenly he said, “Okay. I’ll tell you how to get here.” 

Ross rummaged through his glove compartment for a pen and a scrap of paper, finally writing down his nephew’s address and directions to the apartment on the back of an Auto Club map. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he said. 

He was there in ten. 

On the whole, Ross tried not to be too judgmental, but as he pulled up to Kevin’s apartment complex on a trash-strewn street and saw broken overturned chairs on the dead lawn in front of the building, he thought that if he ever had a son, he would never let him live in a dump like this. Locking his car, Ross walked up to Apartment A, which, luckily, was on the first floor, and knocked on the door. 

After a long moment, he knocked again. 

And again. 

Finally, the door was opened. Kevin stood there, eyes at half-mast, a small smile on his face. “Unc! How’s it going, man?” 

The last time Ross had seen his nephew, Kevin had had short spiky hair dyed an unnatural blond. Now his hair was long and stringy and back to its natural brown. As always, he was wearing faded jeans and a torn t-shirt. Past Kevin, on the couch, a dirty young man of approximately the same age was typing on the keypad of his phone. The apartment smelled so strongly of marijuana that even the air fresheners placed on seemingly every flat surface in the room could not cover up the scent. 

“I need to talk to you alone,” Ross told his nephew. 

“I’m cool,” the roommate said. “Anything you tell him, you can say in front of me. I don’t mind.” 

Ignoring the roommate, Ross pulled his nephew outside and closed the door. He took a deep breath. Here now, faced with explaining the situation, he didn’t know where to begin. “I need a favor,” he said. 

“Anything, dude, anything.” 

He decided just to come out with it. “I need you to start a fire for me.” 

Kevin backed up, suddenly suspicious. “Is this a test? Did my dad put you up to this?” 

“No. It’s legit. And I’m deadly serious.” 

Something in Ross’ tone of voice must have conveyed the truth of his words because Kevin stopped his retreat, squinting at him. “What’s going on?” he asked guardedly. 

“I know this is going to sound crazy,” Ross said. “But bear with me. Just hear me out.” He started from the beginning, with his move to Magdalena to live on his cousin’s ranch. He described what had happened on New Year’s Eve, and the gradually escalating weirdness around the town and the outlying countryside, finally telling of his trip to view the body of the creature in the shed. There were a lot of things he left out, but one thing he emphasized was the way that the creature’s presence had changed everyone’s luck. For good and bad. “People were finding gold and winning the lottery, or their kids disappeared and were found dead. Dave and Lita’s ranch was doing good, then their chickens stopped laying and their bees stopped making honey. Dave had a great relationship with his parents and was in need of cash, and both his parents were killed, leaving him money.” 

“I never saw any of this on the news.” 

“No, you wouldn’t. And that’s part of it, but…” Ross tried to put into words what he was trying to convey. “You know, I’d been out of work for well over a year, no job prospects at all. I’d used up all my money, was thinking of walking away from my condo because I couldn’t make the payments. Then someone
bought
my condo. And suddenly I had a
ton
of job offers. 

“The reason I’m telling you this is because I want you to set that creature’s body on fire. I want it destroyed. And, not to offend you or anything, but you were a terrible arsonist. That’s why you got caught. And didn’t even burn anything. Although the
attempted
arson is probably what got you off. If you had succeeded, you’d probably still be in jail. 

“But what I’m hoping is that
your
luck will change when you come with me to Magdalena, and you’ll be a great arsonist. You’ll know exactly what to do and how to set fire to this thing, and when you’re done, there’ll be nothing left but ashes. But even if that doesn’t happen, you’re still the only one I know who knows
anything
about setting fires, and right now, I think that’s the only way to take this thing out. It was shot out of the sky, dead as a rock, but it started to influence everything around it, and now, apparently, some sort of cocoon has formed around it to protect it while it transforms into something else, like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. We need to get to it before it becomes whatever it’s becoming. We need to take it out once and for all.”