A Dark Road

by Amanda Lance

  I jumped from the porch and wandered aimlessly to the driveway. No sign of Simon. I walked back up and peeked down the road. If nothing else I could stretch my legs and kill a little time. Maybe I could just walk a few steps and back. If Simon wasn’t back by then, I’d circle around and turn another away.

  I turned and stumbled back around to the front of the house, but as I did my boot became caught just enough so that I hesitated and slipped. And though I did manage to stop myself before falling on my hands and knees. I dropped my flashlight, though. And watched it tumble out of my hands.

  I groaned and pulled the hood of my coat tighter. “What am I doing?”

  “Trying to break your flashlight?” A soft voice called from the overgrown weeds. Though I couldn’t make it out very well, something hand shaped reached out and grasped the flashlight before snaking it back into the dark.

  I screamed at the abrupt movement, instantly thinking about haunted scarecrows and Simon’s damn zombies. But when the adorably soaking face of James McKay stepped out from the fields, I quickly realized my stupidity.

  He handed me back my flashlight and I was reminded of what I had seen earlier: the alien-like creature walking around the broken house…a distorted head staring at me with a mutated face. I shivered and clutched the flashlight close.

  “Did I scare you?”

  Did he scare me? He had no idea. I hadn’t expected to see him out here in weather like this, but the instinct to cover for Simon was all too natural. I should have practiced what I would say when I saw him again because now I was speechless, I had nothing to offer for conversation, nothing witty or charming to redeem my ungraceful behavior.

  “Were you getting your carpet cleaned or something today?”

  Brilliant, Hadley. Positively brilliant.

  If that weren’t enough, his small smile dropped, giving way to a frown that made my insides feel hollowed out like a crab without a shell.

  “No, why would you ask me that?”

  Was he angry with me? What did I say this time to piss him off? “I thought I saw some people working on your house—” Though now that he was questioning me, I couldn’t be entirely sure of what I had seen. There had been someone walking around outside of James’ house in weird plastic overalls with something like a gas mask over their head. At the time it had scared me enough to go running back home like a little kid, but it could have just as easily been someone doing yard work or a beekeeper.

  “I, um—” he rubbed the back of his neck. I watched the water dripping off the edge of his matted hair so he wouldn’t think I was staring so directly at him. “We’re having our house ext-terminated.”

  I sighed. A perfectly reasonably explanation.

  “You won’t go telling everyone at school I have b-bugs will you?” His smiled flashed, but there was still a certain nervousness there that didn’t seem right.

  I hit the brim of the flashlight, trying to prompt it to work again. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  James stepped forward and reached for the light again, its beam only came in breached waves when I swore and hit it against my leg.

  He stretched out his hand, waiting for me to give it to him.

  “Oh, but you see, if I swear loudly enough and call it some names, then it will start to work.”

  James smiled, though I think he was trying not to. “I see.”

  “Yeah, it works every time.”

  I handed the flashlight to him anyway. “Sounds like a reliable theory to me.”

  In one fluid motion he took the cap off and peered inside. How he could see anything at all was beyond me. I could barely see the handsome boy in front of me and I had to let my eyes adjust to see the hands directly in front of my face.

  “I can fix this.” He turned and started walking back into the field. I looked back at my house with the cozy porch light barely visible in the fog and wondered if I was crazy.

  “Are you coming or what?” I saw his hand reaching out for me from the cornstalks, and before I could think of anything else, I took it. Amazingly, his hand wasn’t damp or cold, or even clammy like I had pictured it might be. It was just right, like Goldilocks set the temperature herself. He pulled me along as I stumbled over roots and broken stalks. The wet rocks made my feet slip, but they could have been dead bodies for all I knew; the only color was the damning red sky, the rest was a mystery.

  He led me to a small clearing. I saw the shapes of the camp ground first. The tent and boulders leading to make out a shape of something circular, a camp fire on colder nights maybe. Then there was a lantern glowing from the side of the tent, it suggested a large, gangling shadow. I shivered when I remembered what Simon had said. If I tried to get out of here without a flashlight I wouldn’t have a chance. Would anyone hear me scream?

  Just when I thought my throbbing heart would break my ribcage, he left me at the base of the clearing. I was beginning to feel stupid when he knelt beside the tent and did something with the lantern I couldn’t see. The light became brighter and I could see the neon blue and green of the tent door slide open to reveal the pasty shadows from inside.

  “This is going to take a minute,” he said, staring at me. I felt like a small bunny rabbit with a large fox. He suddenly seemed so much bigger than me, frightening even with the shadows cast on him.

  “I c-can’t stay in the house with the fumes and everything.” I heard the clinking as he reached for something inside. James took out a small toolbox and pulled himself inside the tent.

  “You can come inside. I-if you want.” He opened the box and took out what I thought was a screwdriver. “I won’t hurt you,” he added for good measure.

  “I knew that.” I wrapped my arms around myself and bounced on dancing feet. Without moving, a cold sweat had formed on my forehead. I hated the in-between of the seasons like this. Hated the undefined.

  But as I walked a little closer and watched his hands, they did something with the coils inside the flashlight. The batteries were already pushed to the side on a dry blanket. I climbed inside as gracefully as I could manage, only then did I hear the soft snoring of Dog in the corner. The only other indication of his presence was the movement of the bundle of blankets he was under moving with his breathing.

  “Dog!” I whispered. “How wonderful to see, well, maybe not see, but smell and hear you again.” I patted the bundle of moving blankets and saw the curled tail struggle to emerge from underneath. From the corner of my eye I saw James smile just until the dimple was showing and then it disappeared.

  Moving the blankets from around his head I flinched as Dog blinked away goop from his eyes. Still, he looked happy as he stretched and reached his tongue out to kiss me.

  “He’s in a good mood.”

  James exchanged the screwdriver for a tiny pair of pliers and ran them against the plate where the batteries were supposed to be. “I didn’t expect to see him after he went into hibernation.”

  “Hibernation?”

  I watched how his brows crinkled as he concentrated on the delicate work of recoiling the flashlight’s insides.

  “He hates this weather. It makes his arthritis act up.”

  I tried to prevent my shameless staring, but it was an intense thing, watching James McKay fix my flashlight. I wanted to ask him questions as we went along but got the distinct sense that he didn’t want to be disturbed. His actions were deliberate yet subtle, almost like a machine on autopilot. He reached into the toolbox for a pencil eraser at one point, followed by a paper clip. Each act only increased my fascination. Finally, I had to make myself look the other way and focus on something else.

  “Why are you sleeping out here?”

  “I already explained that.” He closed his toolbox and replaced the cap of the flashlight.

  “I mean why are you outside? Why don’t you stay with a relative or something?”

  He shrugged. “Dog and I like it better out here.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re a crazy person.”
/>   He handed me back my flashlight and I watched it light up the tent with a small explosion of artificial light. Now I could see the fine details of James’ face, the perfect proportions of his large eyes and the mess of honey-colored hair on top of his head; the narrow chin that offset the dirty stubble there.

  “Thanks.” I swallowed hard. “How’d you do that so easily?”

  “I like to fix stuff.”

  I wanted to laugh. “Just a boy, his dog, and his toolbox out in no-man’s land?”

  His eyes rolled. “Something like that, yeah. What are you doing out here, anyway?”

  “Running interference.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  He nodded. “You should let me walk you home.” His voice had changed. I got the feeling there was something he wasn’t telling me. I didn’t want to probe deeper, though, and risk spoiling what was almost a normal conversation. Instead, I bid Dog farewell with a scratch behind the ears and followed James back out to the field. The rain had stopped now, leaving a dusky smell over the land that wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but heavy and thick in the air.

  James walked me right up to the edge of my driveway. I was surprised that I felt myself stalling, wanting to think of something else to say that would keep him with me for a few minutes more. The Bull still wasn’t there and I didn’t want to go back into the house alone.

  “Well, James McKay, saver-of-flashlights and damsels in distress: you officially have at least one friend. One that doesn’t have a tail, anyway.”

  He smiled one of those smiles that I was quickly beginning to understand was rare. “Don’t talk like that, you’ll make Dog jealous.”

  I wanted to smile back but I looked at the empty driveway again and back at my watch. Now it was close to one o’clock. Simon knew better than to stay out this late without at least texting me for clean-up duty.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I started; I hadn’t expected my expression to be so obvious.

  “My brother, he’s ah—”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, he’s an ass.”

  James laughed and my stomach flopped just enough that I thought I might need to hold onto something to keep from falling over.

  “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

  I pointed to the driveway while brushing imaginary water from my jacket sleeve. “We have a curfew and he should have been home almost two hours ago.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “It isn’t that big of a deal.” I struggled to explain, I didn’t want to sound like the worrisome loser I really was. “He’s done it once or twice before and got a hell of a headache from my parents’ lecturing—”

  “But you’re worried?”

  The lump in my throat was difficult to swallow, and even once I got it down, I felt it sit in my stomach like a rock in a river dividing two ends of a pathway. I nodded. “A little.”

  “I see.”

  I smiled and tried to change the subject to something, anything else. “So, um—”

  “I’ll see you at school.” James turned from me and headed back down into the dirt path. I wanted to call after him, but he disappeared into the fog before my thoughts accumulated anything tangible.

  Chapter 20

  McKay

  I went straight back through the basement and picked up a phone, locked Dog in the back room, and left. It was a few rings before Luke picked up, but when he realized it was me calling, he was more than happy to oblige.

  “Luke.”

  “McKay? Dude, what’s up?”

  “You know about anything going on tonight? Any parties or whatever?”

  He barely heard me over the music, but after he turned it down, I repeated myself.

  “Uh, hold on, man, let me ask Fuller.”

  I could hear some noise, that fake kind of moaning that comes from bad pornos, but it only took a second for him to answer. “There’s supposed to be a rave or something in Manerbarry.”

  I sighed into the phone. I could practically see the gears in Luke’s head struggling to work. “You guys over at your house right now?”

  “Yeah…”

  “Cool. I need a favor.”

  ***

  It wasn’t hard to get into the party. When someone hands the douche bags at the door a baggie with drugs (even if those drugs are unidentifiable), they let you in. I mean hell, I could have given him a bag of mentos and this jerk-off wouldn’t have known the difference, but whatever. We get in and it’s hard to hear over the crappy techno music. I already gave The Stooges their mission though, so if they manage to retain any sort of short-term memory, I won’t have to talk to them again until we get out of here. The place is crowded beyond crowded, and from what I can tell it’s an old warehouse or factory or some shit that has been abandoned. There are gears and machine parts incised into the wall and I’m thinking maybe I can get them loose and use them for something. I see spots where copper has been stripped and I’m wondering if everything manmade is destructive.

  A DJ is set up on a stage and everyone is dancing with glow sticks. A few dozen people have even taken the initiative to slather themselves in body paint that glows in the black light. But I’m not paying much attention to that, even though there are all kinds of people bumping and grinding against me (including girls who could potentially be intoxicated enough to do things to/with me). Instead, I’m focusing dead center on my mission to find the King of Asshats and get him back to his sister so she can sleep soundly and maybe, just maybe, dream of me the way I dream of her.

  Yeah, right.

  I search around, but it’s hard to tell anyone apart from anyone else and it becomes difficult to concentrate as I’m rammed with elbows, smelly armpits, and the occasional glance of girls as they take their shirts off and grind against each other and random objects. I’m half ready to give up when I remember that look on Hadley’s perfect face and her stupidity to wander back out even when I all but told her about Frank’s tenderness for gun shows. Either I hadn’t been as convincing as I thought I was, or she is an idiot. At this point I don’t care either way, but I do know I don’t want her worrying over her dumbass brother, who even The Stooges seem to harbor a reluctant respect for when they hear about his reputation with college girls.

  I hope Hadley Grayson listens to me for a change and goes home. Ravel is hardly dangerous, but she doesn’t exactly look like she could go all Kill Bill if she had to, either. I’m throwing back elbows into stomachs and now reducing my search to Jenna instead of King Asshat. The presses are running that Simon is trying to get into her pants like they are the last two people on Earth, and I know if he didn’t buy anything from me (which he sure as hell didn’t) and he didn’t buy from Louie (don’t see how he could have so quickly) then he must have gotten a taste from Jenna.

  A shaky but large hand that could have collapsed my entire head lands on my shoulder.

  I think he says something like, “McKay dude! We found him!”

  I try focusing on Luke’s face instead of the words coming out of his mouth but I still don’t understand any of the sounds there. Nothing but the music is understandable.

  “What?” I scream. It’s bad. 90’s movie montage bad. I can’t even hear myself.

  Instead of repeating himself, he makes a gesture for me to follow him, and though I have a harder time keeping up through the pool of bodies, somehow I managed to do just that.

  At first I don’t see him, I only see Jenna (who is kind of hard to miss). Usually she has her hair all straight and stuff, but now it’s picked out like an afro with these weird little glitter beads in them, and she’s wearing a sequin top that doesn’t leave much to the imagination. Sam and Ryan are keeping their eyes on her instead of King Asshat, but she is close enough to him anyway that it works out.

  It’s pretty obvious that they are just as high as everyone else. Simon Grayson is wearing whatever’s left of a torn shirt and has all kinds of body paint on him wit
h tiny finger prints. Judging by the stains on Jenna’s fingers, it looks like they have been having fun all night.

  They must have been trying to talk because their mouths are moving. The fact that they keep trying to talk even though they clearly can’t hear one another is enough indication they have no perception of reality, but when I reach for Grayson, I see how bugged his eyes are, and I know he’s fucked.

  “Let’s go!” I try to tell him. “I’m gonna take you home!”

  Jenna says something, but it’s lost. She looks like she’s laughing . Then King Asshat starts laughing, and I can see her pupils are as big as the bottom of a tea cup, which actually surprises me for a second. I haven’t ever seen Jenna get out of control before. Her use was strictly medicinal; at least as far as I knew. But this is part of why I brought The Stooges. I pull Sam over to me by the collar. I would have tried to get his attention another way, but his eyes were glued to Jenna’s navel.

  “We gotta get both of them home,” I scream it in his ear. “Help me out!”

  Now I’m not claiming to be a knight in shining armor or anything, but even though my main priority is getting King Asshats out of there, I sure as hell am not going to leave Jenna in there by herself either, especially high and looking…well, looking the way she does.

  “Dude! Your family is looking for you!” It’s hard to pinpoint an ear to even scream into since Grayson is bouncing around like Tigger on Ritalin, but I hope a little flush of reality might bring him back to his senses. “Simon! Simon Grayson! Your sister Hadley is looking for you!”

  He just kept laughing while rubbing up against Jenna and some other girl they were with. My patience is winding down; though maybe it’s just jealousy. The songs are merging into each other and I can hear Ryan cackling. As I turn around, I catch a glimpse of him shaking his defective little face into the cleavage of some fat girl.

  I think this rescue mission is going terrible, that seal team six would watch this and laugh. I think that even though she can’t possibly know I’m here, Hadley will somehow hate me if I don’t get her brother back to her. The expectations are unrealistic and I’m aware, but the idea of her hating me is more suffocating than facts.