The Supernaturals exchanged looks of wonder.
“Well, it’s simple enough,” Damian said as he stood and followed the two men as they laughed and walked away. “We’ll just call in Doctor Who.”
20
The figure was moving from alley to alley. The broken form eased into a sitting position near the back entrance to the empty shell of the Bottom Dollar Bar and Grill. His weakened body slid down the graffiti-covered wall until he collapsed fully into the seven inches of water that lapped at the rear of the building. His head fell toward his chest as he closed his eyes. His gray hair was soaked, and the hospital gown provided little warmth or comfort. He was a shell of who he had been at eighteen years old. He was scared, wet, lost, and confused. He knew he had to be somewhere, but since his harried flight from the accident, his memory had failed him. He tried to raise his head and failed. He collapsed face-first into the pool of accumulated rainwater. He curled up into a fetal position and cried in frustration for his inability to remember who he was and why he was in this place. He did know, however, that if he didn’t remember soon, she would die.
Former president of the United States Dean Hadley lay in the cold water and begged for forgiveness. For what? His mind failed to explain. Lightning flashed across the sky, and the earth under him shook. He raised his head and leaned against the rough brick of the old building. He opened his eyes, trying in vain to keep his body from shivering as he took in his surroundings. He squinted into the driving rain and tried to focus on the metal sign screwed into the chipped brick. He opened his mouth to try to say the name, but nothing came out. He tried to focus his eyes once more.
“Royal Cr … own … Cola,” he managed to say as the strength in his neck gave out and his head once more fell to his chest. He felt the pain there, and then with waning strength, he tore at the hospital gown until the collar ripped. He tried to focus, failed, and then tried again. He tore away at the tape and gauze and saw the wounds he had received in Virginia. He shook his head and became scared. He tried to pull the gown closed again but could only get it to cover his shoulders. He collapsed again.
“You’re home now. Do you remember where you can find me?” came the voice into his ear.
Hadley once more raised his head.
“You should remember; you left me there, left me there for eternity.”
“No, no,” he said in answer to the melodious voice that seemed to whisper into both ears at once. “Dad … Dad…” His head went down and his body fully collapsed.
As the rain whipped in between the two buildings hard enough to make the Royal Crown Cola metal advertisement flap with an irritating squeak, Dean went out with a frustrating memory that ate away at the edges of thought and memory.
Sleep for now. I have waited a very long time to see you again. We have time left, but you must be here before the others learn their true power over this world. I can no longer control them.
“Gloria,” Hadley said as his eyes closed. He knew he was home.
* * *
The team was upstairs. Bob, Linda, and Casper, with a brave Peckerwood yapping in the kitchen, would stay on the first floor to monitor the search for Hadley.
Jennifer was in the corner near the bed that was now covered in a fresh sheet supplied by Harvey. The medication had again been laid out and placed where Gabe could get to it quickly. Julie made ready with her notepad, since everything that needed power, either battery or from the outside power grid, could not be trusted. Damian and Leonard were still trying to discern why the satellite phone wasn’t supplying a link for the online help they needed.
“Without George, we won’t have any idea what he’s going to face until he faces it. No warning, no help. He’ll be totally on his own,” Julie said quietly so as not to upset Jennifer again. The small anthropologist had named all the dreamwalk’s hazards, mentioning them until the dangers seemed lessened somehow. Julie didn’t want to start that over again.
Gabriel remained quiet as he readied himself and the few devices he had that could help Lonetree in his walk. He’d never felt this helpless. He looked up at Julie and found no voice to agree or disagree with her fears. Julie caught the drift of worry from his silence and nodded.
Gabriel sat down harder than he wanted in the chair next to the bed. There were three of them. He would be center of Julie taking notes and Jennifer helping John when he needed it. They had found that Jenny could occasionally contact John through speech.
Kennedy lowered his head, and it wasn’t until John poked him on the shoulder that he finally looked up.
“Thought you were taking this dreamwalk instead of me.”
“Sorry,” Gabe said as he stood and faced his friend. “I’ve been thinking about this entity.”
Lonetree slowly lay down on the bed. “I am truly happy to hear that. Believe me, I’ve been thinking on that very subject myself,” he said, trying to get a rise out of Kennedy. He had never seen his old friend this disconcerted about what they did for a living.
“Do you want to hear this or not?”
“Okay, tell me how dangerous this thing is for the hundredth time.”
“John, I don’t think that thing outside this morning was the real power here.”
“Gloria,” John said. “I figured it was something like that. Like you, every time an attack happens, no matter how brutal it is, I get the sense of remorse.”
“My theory is a little more direct. I think something happened that was even more devastating to this place than this so-called disaster. I think we are dealing with a betrayal on a massive scale. Not by Hadley’s old man or Frank Perry either. Even that entity that attacks so fiercely is not the root cause of this. Oh, I think it has everything to do with what happened to the town, but not to Gloria.”
“You think Dean Hadley killed her?” John sat up on his elbows as Jennifer finally joined them.
Gabriel lowered his head and nodded.
“We’ve known each other since college, Gabe; trust me when I say that boy that I’ve seen in my walking state could not have harmed that girl. It’s got to be that thing, those others that caused all of this.”
“I guess it’s time to find out for sure,” Jennifer said as she tried to smile at Lonetree but failed miserably.
“I hope I’m wrong, because if I’m not, you may see something even more unpleasant than what happened to this town fifty-five years ago.”
“And I won’t be able to stop him from killing Gloria anyway. One thing you didn’t think about, Gabe, is the fact I could end up watching that beautiful young woman die anyway.” John leaned over and fixed Kennedy with an intense look. “Mark my words, if I can keep her out of that theater, I will. I know I can’t, but for my sanity’s sake, I have to try.”
Gabe patted John on the knee. “Hell, bring her back if you can,” he smiled as he picked up the syringe of Demerol. “We could make a fortune with that voice of hers. Imagine what she could do on American Idol?” Gabriel eased the needle into John’s arm just above the elbow.
“I want both of you to know I intend to try to get into both Gloria’s and Dean’s heads. Between the two of them—a survivor of that night and one who was killed—I should be able to get most of the story. And if the journal is still in existence, I’ll find out where it is.” The few words trailed away as John’s system absorbed the Demerol kicker. The dose was close to the limit Lonetree could take.
Jennifer held John’s hand as his head finally sank back on the bed that had held George Cordero’s body only hours before. For Lonetree, that was not a totally uncomfortable thought to drift off to. Finally, Gabriel reached out for Jenny’s hand. She hesitated but finally released John. She knew that her touch would hinder his connection with whatever he was to face. Gabe smiled and then he eased the dark glasses once more into John’s hand. He closed the fingers over them and then closed his eyes as he willed Lonetree to be careful. He finally let go as John’s eyes settled in just before he went deep under with the Demerol.
The words, along with the world, went black for Lonetree.
* * *
The sounds were the first to come. John felt the length of the long tunnel was too much of a distance to travel to get to the pinhole dash of light that seemed miles away. He couldn’t see in the blackness but moved forward over air toward the sounds that slowly began to have a familiar ring.
He heard the heavy bass guitar and then cocked his head as he felt the speed of his journey begin to pick up speed like a train. His eyes picked up brief flashes of light of varying colors. The music was now recognizable.
You don’t remember me … but I remember you…’twas not so long ago … you broke my heart in two …
John tried to slow his pace through the blackness of the space, but his mind and spirit moved faster toward the renown sound of Little Anthony and the Imperials, a doo-wop group from the fifties.
Tears on my pillow … pain in my heart … caused by you …
For the first time inside his dreamwalk state, John felt cool air on his face, and then just as suddenly as he had entered this world of the past, it blinked into existence. He closed his eyes and felt himself rise into the air. His mind shifted from trying to observe just one life to many. The music became louder, the world was now visible, and John was now there to see it.
* * *
The two sat in uncomfortable silence as Gloria realized she had fallen asleep to the rain hitting the ragtop roof of the Corvette. She felt Dean quickly turn away and realized he had been watching her sleep. She swiped at her mouth and then she felt her face flush.
“God, I’m sorry. I wasn’t slobbering on myself, was I?” she asked, facing Dean’s direction.
The teenager laughed as though that had been the funniest thing he had ever heard.
“I’m so glad you find me so amusing,” she said in a huff as she pulled her sweater closer to her chest.
“Sorry, no, you weren’t drooling on yourself.” He laughed again as he pounded the steering wheel. “I couldn’t picture that if I wanted to.”
Gloria stuck out her tongue and then angrily turned the Corvette’s radio up. “I happen to love this song.”
If we could start anew … I wouldn’t hesitate … I’d gladly take you back … and tempt the … hands of fate … tears on my pillow … pain in my heart … caused by you, you, you, you, you.
Dean stopped laughing as he concentrated on her face in the soft glow of back porch light of the Bottom Dollar Bar and Grill. The rain had recently stopped, and the sun was down. Little Anthony and the Imperials played on as Dean studied Gloria’s face. She was even more beautiful to him in the soft darkness than she was during the brightest of days.
Dean watched her red lips move with the soft words of “Tears on My Pillow” from the yellow glow of the exposed light bulb. The alley was small, and the only business it backed was the Bottom Dollar. They had been hiding there since early afternoon after escaping the close call with his father and the theft of the journal. Suddenly, Gloria reached out and turned down the radio as she realized something.
“How long was I asleep?”
“It’s seven o’clock now—about two hours.”
Once more, Gloria pulled her sweater across her chest and then turned her head. She had an angry glare about her that sent pleasurable chills down Dean’s spine.
“You’d better not have—”
“Relax, Donna Reed, your honor is still intact. Sheesh, what do you take me for?”
Gloria’s left eyebrow went higher than the rim of her dark glasses, and Dean knew she was giving him the evil eye. She relaxed and then yawned.
“Thank you for watching over me while I slept.”
“I guess you’re the type that isn’t used to narrow escapes, are you?”
“I don’t know what kind of life you think blind people lead, but running from parents after break-ins isn’t normal.” She faced him fully. “What now? This Halloween report seems like such a distant memory now; I think maybe we should let this go. You’re already in big-time shit with your dad.”
“Yeah, well, he’s used to cleaning up my messes—one more won’t hurt.”
“My father says he’s so hard on you because he’s got big plans for his little boy,” she said.
“Yeah, well, did it ever occur to anyone that I may have plans for myself?”
“What plans?” she asked, with a large smile on her face and leaning in with rapt attention.
“Does it shock you that I even have a plan?”
She placed her chin on her hand as she leaned on the center console. She waited patiently.
Instead of answering her, Dean quickly leaned in and kissed Gloria on the lips. It was just a split-second peck, but it was enough to make him feel as good as he’d ever felt in his life. His head sprang back and he closed his eyes, just waiting for the sharp-tongued girl to rip loose on him. When nothing happened, he opened his eyes and slowly turned. She was still leaning against the ’Vette’s console with her head resting in her hand. She hadn’t moved an inch.
“You call that a kiss?” She finally shook her head and then sat back in her seat. “Oh, boy, I can see why all the girls throw themselves at your feet, Fabian.”
“All the girls? You listen to too much gossip. Why, if you knew the truth—”
Gloria leaned over as suddenly as a springing cat and had Dean wrapped in an embrace. Her lips met his like two crashing cars on Dead Man’s Curve. His eyes widened as he felt her soft lips on his own. His heart skipped five or six beats, and he felt his entire body stiffen. Dean even felt her small right hand as it caressed the back of his head, and he felt the slight tickle of her tongue just before she released him. He watched her as she eased back into the seat and then smiled as she faced straight ahead. Dean felt his heart start once more as he leaned back. The radio was turned up, as Gloria knew the silence wasn’t as uncomfortable as she thought it would be. Her mouth was now set in a permanent grin as she had closed the intimidation gap in their budding relationship. She was the victor, and Dean, well, he was now a mere slave to those blind eyes and red lips. He felt himself melting away sitting right next to her.
“Okay, that was Little Anthony and the Imperials, ‘Tears on My Pillow.’ The time is seven oh five in the one hundred block of Moreno, USA. Happy Halloween! You’re with Freekin’ Rowdy Rhoads for the duration. Let’s get out there and kick up our heels and celebrate the fact that we will all still be beboppin’ around this old world for a few more years, thanks to the president. Now let’s go out there tonight and show the commies how we rock and roll! Now my assistant, Roberta, will be here for the next hour as I get ready to go remote from downtown Moreno. It’s Halloween, and we are going to par-tay! Now it’s spooky, it’s terrifying, it’s the Five Satins and ‘In the Still of the Night’!”
The doo-wop hit about the darkest part of the night began. Dean looked over at Gloria once more.
The tap on the driver’s-side window startled him out of his moment in the sun. Dean slowly turned his head and saw the white apron of the Bottom Dollar’s bartender and Gloria’s piano player, Charlie. And as Dean’s full attention went to the man’s companion, he could see the gun belt. He closed his eyes as he lowered the window. Gloria turned down the Five Satins.
“Gloria, come on. Your father’s looking for you,” Charlie said as he went around the front of the car toward the passenger’s side.
“And I’m looking for you, Mr. Hadley,” the chief of police said, smiling in at Dean as he leaned over so the boy could clearly see his face.
“Look, Chief Thomas, my dad’s—”
The door opened, stopping Dean’s words as he was taken by the arm and gently pulled from behind the car’s steering wheel.
“I haven’t even called your pa yet, boy. I figured I’d get your story first.”
“How can I be arrested for breaking into my own house?” Dean said as he angrily pulled back and grew even angrier whe
n he saw Gloria was also being removed by Charlie’s careful hand.
“You wish it were breaking and entering. I’m arresting you for assault, boy.”
“Assault?” both Gloria and Dean said simultaneously.
“Did you or did you not beat up the Weller boy and his two friends this morning?” Thomas said as he pulled Dean away from the car.
Realization hit Dean as one of the punches he had received that very morning. It would seem that Jimmy Weller, Sam Manachi, and Steve Cole got the best of him anyway in this morning’s brawl. He felt his bravado deflate inside him like air escaping a balloon.
“He did it to protect me!” Gloria said as she was pulled away from the car.
“Come on, son. I’ll book you in and then call your father at the plant,” the chief said as he thought about the handcuffs in his hand and then placed them back in their holder on his belt. “Come on, Marciano,” he said.
“Stay at the bar; I’ll find you,” Dean said as he heard the back door to the Bottom Dollar open and Gloria was taken inside.
“I don’t think you’ll be doing much meeting tonight; your father’s been calling me since this afternoon. It seems he may already be aware of your fisticuffs this morning.”
Dean knew that was not the reason his dad was looking for him. He could only thank God that Gloria had the foresight to make him hide the journal.
John was taking all of this in with many eyes. For the first time ever, he was able to view many moments in time from differing points of view. He suspected that Gloria—the spirit, at least—was helping him to achieve this. He felt his body split, and parts of him went in different directions. A small speck of consciousness remained behind on one of the main characters in this haunted tale of the past.
As Dean was led down the side of the alley, a man with a dark jacket and fedora stepped from the shadows, and instead of following Dean and the police chief, he eased back into the shadows and then waited for a moment before inching to the front of the building.
In the Still of the Night--The Supernaturals II Page 34