[Midnighters 01] - The Secret Hour

by Scott Westerfeld - (ebook by Undead)

  “I’m sorry. I mean, it’s good to see you.” She took a step forward.

  “You too.”

  The school sounds around them seemed to vanish for a moment, as if the blue time had somehow arrived in the middle of the day. For once Jessica knew she wasn’t dreaming.

  She looked at Jonathan, trying to gauge what he was thinking. He seemed tired but relaxed, relieved to see her. His hair was a little damp, as if he’d just taken a shower. Jessica realized that he must have come out to school just to see her, and her smile broadened.

  “What happened?”

  “St. Claire, the sheriff here in Bixby, just wanted to make a point,” Jonathan said. “It’s no big deal. He talked my dad into this thing where they could lock me up all weekend until Dad picked me up this morning. But it was all a joke. I wasn’t even arrested, not for real. Just detained in custody.”

  Jessica shivered. She had imagined him being “detained” all day. None of the images in her mind had been comforting.

  “How was it?”

  Jonathan shivered. “Completely skyless. And not enough to eat. Spent the secret hour bouncing off the ceiling. But the rest of the time it was mostly… smelly. I’ve been taking showers all day and listening to my dad apologize.”

  “But you’re okay?”

  “Sure. How are you?”

  Jessica opened her mouth, wanting to tell Jonathan about Rex’s plan, to ask him more about jail, about midnight gravity, about how they’d escaped the darklings. Then she saw her dad’s car crawling through the buses and shouting kids and decided to summarize.

  “Well, I’m wanting to go flying again.” She grinned hopefully. He smiled back.

  “Great. How’s tonight?”

  19

  11:49 P.M.

  MINDCASTER

  “Whizzway’stown?”

  Melissa took one hand off the wheel and pointed to her right, toward the great mass of sleeping humanity. The center of town tasted bloated and sweet, pulsing with slow and vapid dream rhythms, laced with a few sharp nightmares like undissolved chunks of salt. One good thing about Bixby was that people went to bed early. On a Wednesday night the mind noise started to fade about ten, and by eleven-thirty the few waking thoughts were merely annoying, like mosquitoes at the edge of hearing.

  Rex grunted, spreading out the map with both hands and clenching a small flashlight between his teeth. It had been his idea to take the car tonight.

  “I know how to get there,” Melissa complained. “Let’s just get onto Division. We’ve only got ten minutes.”

  “Donwannagesstopped,” he mumbled around the flashlight.

  Melissa sighed.

  At sixteen in Oklahoma, she was stuck with a hardship license valid only for going to and from school. (And work, in the unlikely event that she ever found a job that wouldn’t drive her insane.) It was also after eleven o’clock, so Rex was being ultracautious and guiding her through the back roads. He didn’t want to meet any police, in case Sheriff St. Claire had decided to launch some sort of curfew crackdown.

  Jonathan’s trip to jail had spooked Rex. In a way, Clancy St. Claire scared him more than anything in the midnight hour. When it came to fat, nasty sheriffs, there was no lore to turn to.

  Jonathan’s weekend disappearance had been alarming for Melissa too, but for different reasons. All Sunday’s secret hour she’d been casting on her roof, mostly watching the growing darkling activity but partly wondering why Jonathan had never appeared. Normally she could taste him shooting across the landscape. He was easy to spot, faster than anything else in the midnight psychic terrain, even a flying darkling.

  His absence had worried her more than she would have thought. When she found out on Monday morning that he’d only been in jail, surrounded by opaque steel, it had been a relief. Rex might have sheriff-phobia, but there were worse things than getting busted.

  She smirked. A night on the ground might even have done Jonathan some good. He’d tasted a little more humble this week.

  “Tahnright.”

  Melissa turned right.

  She was starting to recognize the neighborhood. “Okay, we’re not far. I’ll park somewhere.”

  Rex looked up at her, nodding agreement.

  “Ow! Blind me, why don’t you?”

  Rex pulled the flashlight from his mouth. “Sorry.” He began to fold the map.

  Now that they were almost there, Melissa was glad they’d driven. Riding their bikes in the blue time wouldn’t have taken that long, but they would be exposed to whatever the darklings threw at them. Without a stack of Dess-quality weapons it wouldn’t have been safe, and this was one trip she and Rex wanted to keep secret.

  They had never told Dess all of the lore about mind casting. It would be hard for anyone else to understand the mistakes they’d made when they were young. Dess always walked around thinking she’d been left out, never appreciating how much easier she’d had it. Back when it had been just Rex and Melissa, they’d had to learn the rules of midnight the hard way. Those years hadn’t been all fun and games.

  Melissa shivered and brought her mind back to the present.

  She brought her old Ford to a stop a block or so away and pulled up her right sleeve to check her watch. Three minutes to spare.

  Rex noticed her black-gloved hands. “You’re looking very commando.”

  She smirked. “So what’s this girl’s name again?”

  “Constanza Grayfoot. You haven’t heard of her?”

  Melissa sighed, shaking her head. Even Rex didn’t completely understand how unbearable school was for her. Melissa didn’t know the names of half her teachers, much less every social big wheel.

  “Anyway, her name doesn’t matter,” he said. “Just as long as you get the general idea across. Clear the way, and it’ll happen by itself.”

  “No problem.”

  Melissa looked at her watch again, calmed herself, and closed her eyes. The buzzing of a waking mind was close by, some brainless wonder soaking in late night TV. But sweet relief was coming in sixty seconds.

  “Make sure to get both of them in sync. We don’t want to miss Friday while they’re doing parental negotiations.”

  “Rex, it’s going to be easy. Just show me the stiffs.” She felt a twinge from him. Rex hated when she used that word. “Sorry,” she said sarcastically. “Just show me the midnight-impaired persons, and I’ll get it done.”

  Rex turned away from her and stared out the window, giving off unhappy vibes.

  She sighed and reached out to stroke one of his hands. He looked down in surprise, then remembered that her flesh was protected by the gloves. He smiled, but for a moment she caught a taste of his old bitterness. He shared every thought with her, along with terrible secrets and a hidden world, but they would never touch.

  “Rex, really, this is simple. Nothing’s going to go wrong.”

  “You always say that.”

  “The blue time is a breeze, Rex. It’s the rest of reality that’s hard.”

  He turned to her, reached across, his fingertips stopping just inches from her. “I know.”

  “I did the toughest thing I’ll ever do eight years ago.”

  He laughed. “So you always tell me.”

  That search had been the hardest, finding Rex the first time. Melissa had felt him for as long as she could remember, since before she could talk. When the blue time came and the maddening noise would finally stop, only a single voice would remain. A lone taste out there in the suddenly empty world, as tenuous as an imaginary friend. The idea that he was a real person had taken years to form, another year to act on. Finally she had run the miles to his house in the secret hour, eight years old and wearing pajamas covered with pictures of cowgirls, half thinking it was a dream. But finding each other had made the whole thing real.

  It had been a close call, she realized now. Much longer alone and she would have gone crazy.

  Melissa tried to settle her mind, preparing for midnight, for the task ahead
. Taking deep breaths, she waited for the moment when all the noise and clutter, restless dreams and nightmares, half-conscious anxieties and outright night terrors would finally be…

  Silenced.

  “Oh, yeah,” she said. “That’s the stuff.”

  She could taste Rex’s smile.

  All his thoughts were open to her now. His relief that they were safely in the blue time, out of the reach of the law, and his grim determination to get this job done. She could even taste the tiny, well-nibbled corner of guilt he felt for going to this extreme.

  “Don’t worry, Rex. What they don’t know won’t hurt ’em.”

  “Just tell me if you think you’re pushing too hard.”

  “You’ll be the first to know.”

  They got out of the car, Melissa performing a quick mental sweep. Nothing around yet, but it was early. No creature that lived in the blue time would have spent the daylight this far into town.

  Rex’s eyes flashed as he searched for signs.

  “You should see this, Melissa. They’ve been creeping around everywhere. More every night.”

  “Good thing Jessica doesn’t stay home much.”

  Rex’s annoyance sizzled in the air, the predictable result of even the vaguest reference to Jonathan Martinez. At least it wasn’t jealousy, which she tasted enough of at Bixby High. Just Rex’s wounded seer’s pride that he didn’t control everything in the secret hour.

  A moment later Melissa felt him squash the emotion. “Yeah, the guy’s finally good for something,” he muttered.

  They crept through a backyard and then hid themselves in some bushes across the street.

  “He coming?”

  Melissa cast herself deeper into the night, and flavors came to her from every corner of midnight. Jessica was right there, waiting expectantly in her room. Dess was still at home, happily working on toys. The slithers were stirring at the edges of Bixby, more agitated every night these days.

  And coming from the other side of town, a swift-moving presence.

  “On his way.”

  They settled deeper into the bushes.

  A few minutes later Jonathan landed.

  It had been a year since she’d seen him in action, Melissa realized. She remembered his grace now as his body corkscrewed downward to land softly on one foot, soundless and in slow motion. She might not ever fly with Jonathan, but at least Melissa could taste his mind when it was filled with the simple pleasure of flight.

  Next to her Rex allowed himself a moment of quiet amazement.

  “Hey!” Jonathan called into Jessica’s room.

  “Hey, yourself.” Jessica crawled out her window, ran to him, took both his hands.

  Melissa couldn’t hear what they said then, but she could taste what passed between them, clichéd and daylight: Jessica vanilla. The two spoke quietly, so focused on each other that a darkling could have easily flown down and taken them both. After a solid minute on the lawn they half turned to face the same direction. Side by side, holding hands, they bent their knees and jumped, effortlessly coordinated, almost a single creature.

  Two seconds later they were gone over the trees.

  “Cute couple,” Melissa said, pulling herself out of the bush.

  As they crossed the street, Rex glanced nervously skyward.

  “Relax, they’re halfway to downtown.” The last two nights Melissa had felt them close to the center of Bixby, probably up on the tall buildings down there, well away from darkling country and with a clear view in every direction. Jessica was a lot safer with Jonathan than at home, even Rex had to admit.

  The front door was locked.

  “Damn city folk,” Melissa said. They crossed to Jessica’s open window.

  “You’re in an awfully good mood,” Rex said.

  She pulled herself in through the window, tasting leftover Jessica thoughts in the room. She extended a hand to help Rex pull himself up and saw him instinctively jerk away before he realized she was wearing gloves.

  “I’m always in a good mood in the blue time,” Melissa said when he was inside. “Especially when I get to do some serious casting.”

  Rex gave off a sharp flavor of anxiety.

  She sighed. “Don’t worry, I promise not to have too much fun.”

  “Just don’t start to enjoy it too much. The lore is full of—”

  “Stuff that bores me,” she interrupted. “Speaking of which…” Melissa looked disdainfully around Jessica’s room. “Wow, she is so daylight.”

  Rex frowned. “She’s not that bad. Why do you hate her so much?”

  “I don’t hate her, Rex. She’s just… she’s nothing in particular. I think she got switched at birth with a real midnighter. Everything’s so easy for her.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  They went through the door and faced a long hallway. Melissa pushed open the first door on her left.

  “Smells like… little sister.”

  “You can taste that?”

  “I can see it.” Melissa gestured at the floor. It was cluttered with skirts, jeans, shirts, crumpled papers, and school-books. Two walls were covered with boy-band posters, and on the bed a small form lay twisted among the sheets, clutching a stuffed animal.

  Rex laughed. “Your psychic powers never cease to amaze me.”

  They closed the door and headed farther into the house. There was a bathroom on the right, and the hallway opened on one side onto a living room. At the far end of the hall was one more door.

  “This looks promising,” said Melissa as she pushed it open.

  Jessica’s parents lay there, frozen while asleep.

  Melissa looked at them, pale and defenseless. Like all stiffs, they didn’t seem quite human, more like department-store mannequins that someone had tried really hard to make realistic but had mistakenly taken a left turn at creepy.

  Rex was poking around the room, peering into the moving boxes near the closet. Like the other midnighters, he was a little bit freaked out by stiffs.

  Melissa didn’t mind them at all. Cold and hard though they were, this was the only time she would ever willingly touch another human being. She pulled off her gloves.

  “I think we’ll start with Mom.”

  20

  7:22 A.M.

  A CHANGE OF MIND

  “Good morning, Beth.”

  “In what sense?”

  “Sight, sound, smell, all the other senses. It’s sunny, and the birds are chirpy, and I’m letting you have this toast that I just put in for myself.”

  Beth paused next to the table. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Nothing. You are my sister, and I’m making you toast.”

  Beth plonked down at the kitchen table and looked at her big sister warily.

  “Aren’t you kind of happy for someone who’s grounded?”

  Jessica considered this for a moment, watching the elements inside the toaster warm to a red glow. The smell of toast came from the machine, drawing a deep breath from her.

  “Toast is good,” she answered.

  Beth snorted. “If you’re going to be all retarded, could you make me an omelette, too?”

  “I’m not that happy, Beth.” The toaster popped. “Here you go.”

  Jessica pulled the bread out with her fingertips and dropped it onto the waiting plate, twirled around, and placed it before her sister.

  Beth inspected it carefully, then shrugged and started to butter it.

  Jessica dropped another pair of slices into the toaster, humming to herself.

  She still felt light, as if midnight gravity hadn’t completely faded with the blue time. Every step felt as if it would turn into a leap, carrying her across the room, out the window, into the air. All last night she had dreamed of flying. (Except for that hour when she had been flying.)

  She and Jonathan had hung out on the big, crumbling Mobil Oil sign atop the highest office building in Bixby. It was a huge Pegasus, a flying horse. The unlit neon tubes that outlined its shape
had shimmered with dark moonlight, the spread wings shining like those of some angel come to protect her from the darklings.

  The steel framework that held the sign in place was rusty, but Jonathan was pretty sure it was clean. It was in the center of town, where darklings almost never went. He’d been going there for almost two years and had never seen so much as a slither.

  For three nights in a row she had felt safe in the blue time. Safe and secure, weightless and…

  The toaster popped again.

  “Happy,” she said quietly.

  “Yeah, you’re happy. Got it.” Beth was spreading jam onto her remaining piece of toast. “Omelette-level happiness yet?”

  Jess smiled. “Pretty darn close.”

  “Let me know. So, Jess?”

  “Yeah?”

  “This Jonathan guy you got busted with? You like him?”

  Jessica looked closely at her little sister. Beth seemed genuinely interested. “Yeah, I do.”

  “How long have you guys known each other?”

  “That night we got busted was the first time we hung out.”

  Beth smiled. “That’s what you told Mom. But how come the night before, when you came to visit me and make that Ms. Mature speech, you were all dressed?”

  Jessica swallowed. “I was?”

  “Yeah. Jeans and, like, a sweatshirt. You were all sweaty and smelled like grass.”

  Jessica shrugged. “I was just… I couldn’t sleep. I took a walk.”

  “Good morning.”

  Jessica started. “Good morning, Mom. Want my toast? I can make some more.”

  “Sure, Jess. Thanks.”

  “Looking good, Mom.”

  “Thanks.” Her mother smiled, smoothing the lapel of her new suit with one hand as she took the toast from Jessica. She sat down at the table.

  “Wow, you’re allowed to eat breakfast with us?” Beth asked. “I thought Aerospace Oklahoma frowned on family time.”

  “Hush, Beth. I have something to say to your sister.”

  “Uh-oh. From the toaster into the frying pan.”

  “Beth.”

  Beth stuffed toast into her mouth, shutting herself up. Jessica pushed down the toaster lever slowly, her mind racing. She turned and sat down across from her mom, trying to think of what could have given her away. They had left nothing to chance. She always left after the blue time started—it took Jonathan a few minutes to get here from his house, anyway—and was back in bed before it ended. Maybe Mom had found a dirty shoe, or an open window, or taken fingerprints from the tops of buildings downtown….