by Val Crowe
Patrick considered this. Then he let out a loud breath, his shoulders slumping. “Okay, I guess you’re right.” He got his phone out of his pocket.
“Do we need to call them now?” said Lily.
“Yeah,” I said. “Maybe we should wait until morning. I mean, we still have all that food that my mother bought, and I know I could stand a good meal and a good night’s sleep before I try to hit the road.”
“We can’t hit the road,” said Patrick. “We have to stay in town, that’s what that cop said.”
“Right,” said Lily. “So, we’d have to sit here and wait for the police to come and open the gate. Then go and check in to the campground that the detective told us about. And then try to get something to eat? What’s even going to be open by then?”
“It’s not going to hurt to stay another night,” I said.
“Well, I don’t mind cooking something,” said my mother.
“You packed everything up already,” said Patrick.
“Oh, it won’t be that hard to unpack,” I said. “We’ll all help. And we’ll help cook too.”
“We could have a memorial for Oscar,” said my mother. “We’re all in shock. We’re all grieving. It probably would be best if we stayed put for tonight. We can call the police in the morning.”
Patrick shrugged. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt anything. If you really don’t mind cooking—”
“We don’t,” I said.
“Well, I’m kind of starved,” said Patrick.
* * *
I figured it was better if everyone else relaxed, so I did most of the unpacking and cooking. When I needed assistance, I asked Lily for help. We were on the same side. I could see that now.
I was a decent cook myself, and I soon had a nice meal coming together. I did chicken breasts on the grill. I would have liked to marinade them, but we hadn’t had time, so I liberally brushed them with seasoned oil every so often, just to keep them from drying out and to add flavor. I also grilled up some zucchini, seasoning them with the same oil. And then I heated up some bread in foil on the grill—both gluten free and wheat bread. We ate that sliced thickly with butter.
While I was cooking, I made sure that everyone had beer or wine or gin and tonics and I prompted my mother to start talking about Oscar. Soon, everyone was boozily talking about their feelings.
“I had barely gotten to know him before he was gone,” my mother said. “I still don’t know how to wrap my head around what happened to him.”
“He was a good guy,” Patrick said. “He was so helpful when we went to him and told him our story. He would have done anything to help us find Molly.”
You mean your mother’s jewelry, right? That’s all you care about, Patrick, I thought wryly, but I kept my mouth shut.
When the food was finished, I sat down to eat and drink with everyone else, and I had to admit that things felt incredibly nice now. The food was good. The alcohol was flowing. There was a pleasant heat coming from the grill. It was good here. Very, very good.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It didn’t take too long for everyone to head to bed, probably because I had pushed everyone to drink a little more than they typically would have. It may have also been the stress of the day. It wasn’t an easy thing to go through, a horrible death like that. Everyone needed rest, and they all went off to their beds.
While they all went to bed, I went into the Airstream and shaved.
I waited until the lights were off everywhere, and then I crept out of my Airstream and went over to Patrick’s and Lily’s RV. I tried the door. I didn’t figure they would have bothered locking it, and I was right.
I eased the door open. I was glad it was a newish RV. The door was soundless as it opened.
Carefully, I stepped inside.
Their RV was set up with a living area on one side and the kitchen on the other. On one end of the RV was the closed-off master bed, which was where Patrick was sleeping. On the other end, there were two berths with bunk beds. Lily was asleep on the bottom bunk. She lay on her side, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted.
I went over to her and looked around on the floor around the bottom bunk. There was nothing there.
Lily stirred, though, rolling onto her back, flinging one of her arms up above her head.
I froze, waiting for her to open her eyes. I wasn’t sure how she’d react to seeing me. Maybe it wouldn’t be a problem. I had thought before that she was on my side. But what if I was wrong? What if she wasn’t? What if I had simply been seeing what I wanted to see when it came to Lily?
Moments passed. She didn’t move.
I knelt down next to her, slowly, slowly. Carefully, I slid my hand under her pillow.
She made a little noise.
I stopped moving.
I waited.
Then I began to move my hand around. There was nothing under her pillow either. Carefully, I removed my hand and straightened as quietly as I could. I looked on the top bunk, even though I couldn’t see why she would put anything up there.
That was when I spotted the glowing red lights on the kitchen table.
Jackpot.
There were both of them. Her cell phone and his. They were charging together right on the table there.
I smiled. I crept back to the table and unplugged each of the cell phones. I put them in my pocket.
That done, I left their RV and went over to my mother’s.
I didn’t have to search in hers. I knew that she always kept her cell phone in her purse, in the front pocket there. The purse was sitting on the counter in her kitchen, and the phone was also there.
I got it out easily and left her motorhome.
Then I went over to the fence that surrounded the park. I dropped all the cell phones on the ground, including mine. If I left mine intact and they found it, it would look suspicious. When I tossed my phone on the ground, I noticed that I had several missed calls from Wade. Oh, well. Best to leave Wade out of this.
I began stepping on the cell phones, grinding my heel until the screens broke and the phones snapped. I kicked them and jumped on them and crunched them and crunched them.
Once they were all demolished, I surveyed my work and felt pretty good about it.
Who would have thought that phones would be so easy to break?
* * *
I could have gone into the Airstream after that, but I’d slept all afternoon, so I was kind of wired. Instead, I went for a walk in the park. I had an idea that maybe I’d see one of the ghosts and I’d force them to give me some information on Negus.
Then, armed with that knowledge, maybe I’d go wake up my mother and find some way to force her to admit that she remembered what had happened.
Yeah, that sounded like an excellent idea.
I smiled, feeling confident.
It was funny, because when I’d arrived here, I hadn’t felt so great. I mean, I hadn’t been down in the dumps or anything, but compared to the way I felt now? Man, I was riding the edge of triumph. I didn’t think I’d ever felt so alive and in charge. It was pretty amazing. Maybe my whole life, I’d been living in some kind of muted, gray world, and now here I was, waking up to the colors.
I belonged in a place like this.
How could I not have realized it before?
I was sensitive to the supernatural. Therefore, I should be among supernatural beings. I belonged here in Point Oakes. This was home. Maybe I’d always known that deep down. I was awakening to my destiny.
As I walked, I began to hear strains of music. Since I didn’t have anywhere else to go, I decided to walk in the direction of the sound. As I got closer, I began to recognize the song. It was The Cure, “Lovesong.” I had always thought it was a pretty song.
I liked The Cure, as far as it went. I had never listened to a Cure album or anything, I had to admit. I pretty much only knew them from their hit singles. And I always wondered why they were supposedly a depressed, emo band, because all the songs that I knew by them
were pretty poppy and happy and upbeat. “Lovesong” wasn’t a snappy number exactly, but it wasn’t a depressed song either.
I rounded a bend, and there was the Tunnel of Love ride, blaring The Cure and all lit up.
It was bright and brilliant and new-looking. No rust or decay. No wear and tear. All the paint was perfect. The ride looked pristine.
I surveyed it, chuckling to myself. What was this?
Wait, there was someone at the front of the ride. I could only make out the figure in shadow, but it looked like a female form.
I made my way to the entrance of the ride. As I got closer, I could see who the figure was.
“Mads?”
She turned to look at me. Her dark brown hair was down around her shoulders, falling in soft waves. Her big brown eyes were luminous.
“Is that really you?” I said.
“Deacon!” Her voice cracked. She ran for me.
I ran for her.
But when we got close, we both stopped short.
Her gaze searched mine. “Deacon, what have you done?”
“Where have you been?” I said.
“I’ve been outside the gate,” she said. “I saw you put that lock on. What are you thinking?”
“I…” I furrowed my brow. That made sense, putting the lock on. It made sense, because… “I need to find out about Negus. I can’t leave.”
“You have to leave,” she said.
Something about her seemed… On impulse, I suddenly reached out for her. I raised my hand and stretched out my fingers. I wanted to touch her cheek, but I knew I couldn’t. Anytime we tried to touch, I simply went right through her. So, I got close, but not close enough to touch. Close enough for the illusion of touching.
Except I could almost swear I could feel the softness of the tiny hairs on her skin there.
She gasped.
I knit my brows together.
“Deacon, this place, what they’ve done. They took something from you to power this. We can’t let them—” But her words died in her throat.
Because I had just made contact with her skin, the tips of my fingers sliding against her jaw.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Her fingers were over my fingers, holding my hand against her cheek, and I could feel her. She was touching me.
We stared into each other’s eyes for several long moments, neither of us saying anything, just gazing at each other.
“Deacon,” she finally whispered.
“Yeah?” My voice was raw. What the hell was going on here? Why could I touch her? Was this really Mads? This could all be some awful trick, and I had been so confused lately. Everything about this place seemed to be screwing with my head. I had thought all that strange stuff had happened with Lily, but then I had realized it had been a dream, or that I had been sleepwalking or…
Wait.
Had I been sleepwalking?
Oh, why was I thinking about this now? I was here with Mads, and we were touching. There was nothing else to think about.
“It’s you?” I said. “It’s really you?”
She nodded. Her fingers slid down my hand, and then she twined her fingers with mine, moving my hands away from her cheek. Holding onto my hand, she closed the rest of the distance between us so that there was barely an inch between our bodies. She swallowed. Her other hand came up and she ran her finger over my bottom lip. Then she pulled her hand back. Both of her hands. “You have to go.”
“Wait, what?” I said.
“You have to get out of here.” She bit down on her lip, looking incredibly distressed. “They’ve done something to you, and you’re all discombobulated, and they’re going to hurt you, Deacon. You know that, right?”
I had no idea what she was talking about. I grabbed her hand again. “We are touching.”
She tried to pull her hand back, but it was like she didn’t quite have the will to do it. She gave me an agonized look. “It’s a trick, Deacon. They are taking your essence and using it against you. They want to lure you in, and you won’t even protest while they do it, because you’ll think…” She looked away.
“Mads…” I tugged her.
She didn’t resist. She collided with me, her hand on my chest. She looked up at me, a little breathless. “They’re playing a dangerous game, trying to get me complicit in this. But they can tell that I want…”
“What?” I rasped. “What do you want?”
She shut her eyes.
I reached under her chin and tipped it up.
She opened her eyes.
I looked at her lips. I looked back into her eyes.
She let out a shuddering breath.
I started to lean closer.
“No,” she breathed, her voice barely audible. “No, I won’t be able to bear it if you…” She took several steps away from me, but she didn’t let go of my hand. She pulled me toward the entrance to the Tunnel of Love. “Let’s just ride the ride.”
I let her lead me into the entrance.
There was a single car there. It was floating on shimmering water, lit from beneath by diffused blue lights. Together, we climbed inside.
The music swelled.
And the ride began.
We floated over the water, moved forward by a track beneath that urged the car forward. We went under an archway decorated with dripping white flowers and then we were in a dimly lit tunnel.
Mads rested her head on my shoulder. She started to speak softly, and her voice was full of tears. “You don’t know what it’s like, Deacon. You don’t know how lonely it is out there.”
I squeezed her fingers. “Hey, we’re together now. You don’t have to feel alone.”
“I was alone. I don’t even know for how long. It was years or decades or centuries. I don’t know. I could see the spirits around me, sometimes, they would stream past me like ribbons, but there’s nothing to them. They have no real thoughts or reason. They’re only hunger and desire. They want to gorge and go looking for energy, and whatever traps them, makes them. But then… then there was you.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“Do you know what it’s like to go forever, to go so long you don’t even know who you are, without another person to talk to? No, of course you don’t know.”
“I don’t,” I murmured. “But I can imagine it would be hell.” In fact, I’d often thought that I’d rather cease to exist than be a restless, trapped spirit, unable to contact anyone. That was Mads’s existence before me?
“I can’t lose you,” she said. “You have to leave this place.”
“But…” I swallowed. “If we can touch here, why would I leave?”
She didn’t answer.
“If you’re lonely, if you want me to be with you, then isn’t this really being together?” I said. “We could… we could do everything.”
“No,” she said. “No, we couldn’t. Because you need to live, and they can’t keep you alive here. They’ll… use you, drain you, and when you’re nothing more than a husk, they’ll let you rot.”
“Okay,” I said. “Okay, then I’ll leave. But after I find out about Negus. And after you and I…” I didn’t finish the sentence.
We rounded a bend in the ride and the interior of the walls was now decorated in roses.
She raised her head from my shoulder. “After we what? Kiss?”
My gaze zeroed in on her lips again.
“And then what?” she whispered. “And then you leave, and then we can never touch again, and I have to remember it, and I know it can never happen again, and it kills me watching you want other women, real women, and…”
I looked away.
“Anyway, you’re not acting like a person who’s leaving,” she said. “You locked yourself inside. I saw you do that. Why did you do that?”
“I just… it seemed like the thing to do.” Honestly, I wasn’t sure now.
“Listen, climb the fence if you have to, but get the hell out of here, Deacon,” she said. “Will you promise me
that?”
I didn’t respond. Because, yes, I guessed I should get out of here, but… “They’re going to tell me about Negus. Isn’t that important? He’s still after me. And he wants to hurt me—”
“They want to hurt you. God, it’s like you’re dense. Can’t you understand what I’m saying?”
“I…” I blinked hard. And when I did, the ride flickered. Instead of a bright, pristine tunnel, lit and freshly painted, I saw a graffiti covered wall with moss growing over the scummy water. And I could see through Mads next to me. Panicked, I squeezed her fingers again.
“Deacon,” she whispered. “Oh, Deacon.” She leaned forward and she pressed her lips against my forehead, and I could smell her, and she smelled like cinnamon and jasmine, and I wrapped my arms around her waist, and I tried to hold her there, but…
She was gone.
The music was gone. The lights were gone. I was inside this awful tunnel in the dark. Alone.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I stumbled out of the Airstream the next morning, feeling tired and a little off. My head was hurting. Everyone else was already awake, sitting in front of my mother’s motorhome and eating some kind of potato hash.
“You got a cell phone?” said Patrick by way of greeting.
“Uh…” I pretended like I didn’t know what he was talking about and ducked back into the Airstream to pretend to look. I came back out right away. “No.” Adopting a wary and confused look, I strode over to them. “You guys don’t have phones either?”
“How do you know that?” said Patrick, folding his arms over his chest. “Did you take the phones?”
“Kiddo, we just want our phones back,” said my mother.
I turned to her. “What? You think I took them?” I was a little peeved. I mean, I had taken them, but I would think that my mother would think better of me. On the other hand, my mother would not admit that she had been possessed by Negus, so there were other problems in our relationship. I’d come here to reconnect with her, and that hadn’t happened. Now, all I could do was to try to find out the information about Negus, because I had no hope of finding anything with my mother.