by Kim Liggett
The Pine twins, Charlie or Chip, I can never tell them apart, are wearing matching speedos, but the one who steps forward’s got fake sores all over his body and a set of rotting teeth.
“Tate? Is that really you?” He shields his eyes from the glare of the disco ball. “It’s Charlie.”
“Yeah, hey.” I let out a nervous laugh. “What are you supposed to be, anyway?”
He shrugs. “AIDS, man.”
“That’s seriously not right,” I say. “You know, you don’t have to—”
“Red rover in three,” a voice spits over the walkie-talkie.
“Showtime, boys.” Mr. Brett rubs his hands together and puts on his leather cap.
“I can’t watch this,” I say to Ali.
We back into the next tent where we catch up to one of the tours. The room is dark except for the flashlights the choir members are shining up on their faces while they chant some kind of made-up Latin. An over-the-top goth kid pulls a normal-looking kid out of the choir and into the spotlight.
“Come over to my house, Jerry,” the one with the fake green Mohawk says stiffly. “We can play violent video games and listen to heavy metal music. It’ll be fun.”
“But isn’t that dangerous?” The normal-looking one gives an exaggerated shrug.
“Not at all.” Goth kid eases a large plastic silver pentagram necklace over his head. “You look cool now. You’re one of us.”
Clearly, we’ve entered the Devil worship room, but they have no clue what the Devil’s really like, what he’s capable of.
That he might already be here.
I look at Ali and she pulls me away from the group into a narrow passageway.
The walls are made out of soft black stretchy fabric. Midway through the tunnel, she stops and turns to face me. Standing on her tiptoes, she whispers in my ear, “You didn’t forget me.”
There’s something in her eyes, a softness I haven’t seen since she came over to my house the night of my dad’s funeral. “I could never forget you,” I say as I place my hand on her waist, my thumb brushing a bare sliver of skin between her top and her jeans. The feeling I get when I touch her makes every muscle in my body tense. It’s like I’m a live grenade and she’s got her finger on the pin. One tiny movement, the smallest gesture, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold myself together. She moves closer. I can feel the heat coming off of her … or me … or both of us. Eyes glistening in the dark, lips parted, I lean down to kiss her, when “Welcome to hell” booms over the speakers, followed by strobe lights and heavy metal music blasting through the tunnel. The fabric walls cave and bend all around us. People’s hands are pawing at us, faces pressing into the fabric like souls trying to get out of hell. Ali grabs my hand, pulling me through the rest of the tunnel away from the group pushing in behind us.
We emerge into an all-white room with harp music playing. Reverend Devers is standing up on a narrow ledge of a giant wood cross, taking a huge bite out of a Rice Krispies Treat. Ali clears her throat and he stuffs the rest of it into the pocket of his white robe.
“Welcome to salvation.” He spreads his arms out wide, quickly slipping his hands through the rope loops on either side of the crucifix.
Ali tries to stifle a laugh. “Hey, Reverend. We’re not part of the group … but you’ve got some, um, marshmallow? On your nose.”
“Heavens to Betsy.” He chuckles as he wipes it with his robe. “Is that Clay Tate with you?”
“Hi, Reverend.” I give him a sheepish nod.
“I heard you were here. I hope this means you’re back on the team. I don’t mean to cast stones, but Tyler sure did make a mess of things with the homecoming game last night. We could sure use you.”
“Well, I don’t know about that…”
“Nice wig.” Ali saves me from having to come up with a coherent response.
“Oh, this old thing?” He shakes his long brown hair. “Got it from my hippie costume from last Halloween. Jesus was a hippie.” He shrugs with a goofy smile. “But we still love him.”
“Well, the next group should be coming in any second,” Ali says as she pulls me toward the exit.
“Clay?” Reverend calls out. “Don’t be a stranger. Come see me at the church anytime. Miss Granger was telling me how well you’re doing. We could just chitchat or talk ball. Whatever you want, son.”
“Yeah, sure, okay.”
As we head outside, Ali says, “I know a place where no one will find us.”
“Where?”
She pulls me up the front steps, back inside the Preservation Society. “The secret room.”
“Yeah, but Tyler and the others are in there.”
“Not that one.” She leads me down the hall past Mr. Neely’s office, stopping in front of the basement door. “The real one.”
23
I’M FOLLOWING Ali down the dimly lit stairs when I hear a girl moaning.
It’s not a pleasant moan. There’s something about the tone of her voice that hits me right in the gut. I run down the rest of the stairs to find Jess sprawled across the cot in the cell, Jimmy Doogan standing over her.
“What the hell’s going on?” I rush forward, but Jimmy slams the cell door shut.
“I’ll get Tyler,” Ali says as she runs back up the stairs.
I grab the cold rusty iron bars, shaking them with all my strength. “Jess, are you okay? Jess, talk to me.”
She tilts her head back and stares at me. Her pupils are so big. “Hi, Dad,” she whispers.
My skin explodes in goose bumps. “It’s me, Jess … it’s Clay.”
“I know … but Dad’s standing right behind you.”
I whip around, but there’s no one there. Hallucinating. “What did you do to her?” I turn my attention back to Jimmy. “What did you give her?”
“She was just looking for a good time, isn’t that right, Jessica?” He kicks the cot, making the springs rattle. “Don’t get all roiled up, Clay. Everyone in town’s had a ride on that bicycle. You’re lucky anyone will touch her after Lee Wiggins.”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” I spit. “I’m going to get you out of here, Jess. Just close your eyes.”
“For fuck’s sake, Jimmy, open the door,” Tyler says as he ambles down the stairs, Ali, Ben, and Tammy following close behind.
“Good, you’re all here,” Jimmy says. “No one humiliates me like that anymore. I’m a member of the council. We’re supposed to be equals now.” His voice cracks. “And Clay needs to learn his lesson.” Jimmy’s eyes look pure black, like staring into a bottomless pit of hatred. And I wonder if this is it—the demon taking over.
“Open this door.” I rage against the bars. “Open this goddamn door!”
“Get my dad,” Tyler says to Tammy. She runs up the stairs.
“Jimmy, listen to me,” Tyler says as he steps forward. “He’s one of us. That’s Clay’s sister. We don’t cross our own.”
“Then what happened back there? Huh, Tyler? Why didn’t you stop him? Why didn’t you defend me? He doesn’t even have the mark yet. Until the seed is chosen, we’re all equals. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m the chosen one. The blood of the calf has set me free.”
“What’s he talking about?” I ask.
“No clue,” Tyler says as he stares him down. “He’s obviously drugged out of his mind.”
I step away from the cell, pacing the wide-planked floors. “Jimmy, I swear to God, if you don’t open this door—”
“You’ll what?” Jimmy says as he edges forward. “What are you going to do about it?”
One more step … just one.
“That’s what I thought.” He laughs. “Look who’s in charge now, bit—”
I lunge for him. Stretching my hand through the bars, I grab hold of his shirt and yank him toward me, head-butting him with such force his head lolls back, his knobby knees buckling under him, but I don’t let go. Blood’s gushing from his nose as I get my hands around his throat, holding him clean off the ground.
His limbs are flailing around, desperately trying to find something to latch on to.
“Please,” he grunts as his lips turn blue, blood vessels bursting in his sallow skin. I glance over at Jess lying there and it only makes me want to squeeze tighter. I’m about to crush his windpipe when I’m jerked back, Tyler and Ben fighting to get control of me.
Jimmy’s on the ground in the fetal position, coughing and spitting up blood, when Mr. Neely comes downstairs, calmly sorting through the keys until he finds the right one.
As soon as the cell door pops open, I charge forward. I almost reach him when I feel hands on me, from every direction. “Stop it, Clay,” I hear Ali say.
I want to fight, shake them off, but I don’t want to hurt anyone … especially Ali.
Ian Neely steps in front of me. “We’ll take care of this, son. You don’t need another incident on your record.”
Jess stirs. “What’s going on? What are you doing down here?”
I go to her, pushing her hair back from her face. “I’m so sorry, Jess.”
As I pick her up, carrying her out of the cell, Ian and the others close in around Jimmy.
Mr. Neely takes off his belt.
The sound of the leather strap hitting Jimmy’s flesh follows me until we’re safely outside of the Preservation Society.
The scariest part is that it sounds good.
24
AS I carry Jess outside, the fresh air seems to slap us both in the face.
“I would’ve been fine,” she murmurs as she struggles to break free of me, wavering on her feet.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I try to help her to my truck, but she pulls away from me, staggering across the lawn.
“You still don’t get it.” She laughs, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “It’s too late. No matter what happens, no matter what you do … he’s coming.”
“What are y—”
“Clay?” Miss Granger hurries across the lawn.
Jess stares at her for a moment, her face softening into a winsome smile. “You’re here,” she says as she stumbles forward into her arms.
“I’m sorry.” I shake my head. “This is my sister Jess.”
“It’s okay,” Miss Granger says as she strokes her hair. “I heard there was an incident. Are you okay? Is she okay?”
“Jimmy fucking Doogan,” I say, the rage coming back to me in a flash of heat. “I don’t know what he gave her.”
“It was only a little Special K,” Jess says, slurring her words.
“Ketamine.” Miss Granger checks Jess’s eyes, her pulse. “She’ll be fine. It’s fast acting. She just needs to sleep it off.”
“Don’t make me go with him,” Jess pleads. “I want to go with you. I’m ready now.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Miss Granger says as she nods toward her Volvo parked on the street. “Why don’t you wait for me in my car and I’ll take you home.”
Jess starts heading over to Miss Granger’s car when I grab her arm. “She’s coming with me.”
Jess shrieks like a wild animal caught in a trap.
“Clay, you should take some time to cool off,” Miss Granger says as she pries my bloody hand away. “I know you’re upset, but you’re only scaring her more.” I let go and Jess takes off, getting into the passenger seat of Miss Granger’s car, locking the door behind her.
“I’ll make sure she gets home okay. Your mother and Noodle, too. Your mom had a bit of an episode at the party.”
“Now what?”
“It’s nothing really. She started talking about flies.”
“Oh God.” I drag my hands through my hair.
“She’s better now, but I should get her home. Clay, do you hear me?” She squeezes my shoulder. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
“You don’t understand … Jimmy,” I say, my eyes veering back toward the Preservation Society. “Something happened to him back there. Something evil. His eyes turned black. He said something about being chosen. And something about the seed.”
She grasps my trembling hands. “I hate to even ask, but did you get what we came for?”
“Yeah, here…” I push the top of the cross to stop recording and take it off. “I got all the marks, but you might see some things you … well, things you shouldn’t—”
“The marks are the only thing we’re interested in. Don’t worry. I’ll delete the rest.”
I can’t believe how dirty I feel. I can’t believe I got caught up in all this. If I’d left right after the poker game, none of this would’ve happened.
“Because of you we might be able to save them in time. Save the whole town … the world.”
“You better hurry,” I say as I dig my keys out of my pocket. “Because if Satan doesn’t kill Jimmy Doogan—I might have to.”
25
I NEED a beer … or twelve.
Quick Trip is too risky this time of night. Dale’s probably staking the place out and the last thing I want to do is rehash tonight’s events with him. Merritt’s is still open, and nobody decent hangs out there anymore.
As I pull up, I notice a beat-up ten-speed out front. I think it belongs to that girl in Jess’s class. She’s always hanging around here, chatting up the clerk, Nick. He must be pushing thirty by now … no good reason to be hanging out with a thirteen-year-old.
The broken bell on the door clatters when I walk in. The girl’s sitting on the counter, dangling her legs over the side, her beat-up sneakers skimming the candy bars.
Nick’s wearing a tank top, probably just so he can show off those stupid sailor tattoos. Doubt he’s ever even seen the ocean.
I grab a six-pack of Shiner from the cooler and bring it up front.
“Aren’t you in my little sister’s class?” I ask the girl.
“Yeah. Jess, right?”
I look from her to Nick and back again. “Isn’t it a little late for you to be out on your bike?”
“No worries, my man. I’ll drop her home.” Nick winks at her as he rings me up.
“That’s exactly what I’m worried about.”
“Okay, Dad.” He gives me a sarcastic salute and the girl laughs.
I slap a ten down on the counter and walk out. This town. I swear. No wonder the Devil picked Midland. We’re already halfway to hell.
As I cross the lot, I see Lee Wiggins standing beside my truck holding a two-by-four.
I burst out laughing, beer dribbling down my chin. I wipe my mouth with my sleeve. “Believe me … you don’t want to mess with me tonight, Wiggins.”
He slams the plank into my taillight, busting it clean out.
“You little shit.” I drop the beer and he takes off running into the woods behind Merritt’s.
It’s so dark, there’s a thick mess of clouds covering up the moon and the stars. I’m weaving in and out of the pines, straining to hear him moving through the brush, but I can’t hear a thing over my heaving breathing.
“I’m done playing games with you,” I holler.
“Too bad, ’cause I’m just getting started with you,” a low voice says behind me.
Before I can turn, something smacks me in the back of my head. I stagger forward a few steps, like a bear that’s been hit with a tranquilizer gun.
Warmth oozes down my neck. I’m so dizzy I can hardly get my bearings, but my body refuses to go down. I twist around to see Lee standing there with the two-by-four, that sick smile stretched across his scorched skin.
“You think you’re better than me. You got the name. You got the looks. But you’re dead wrong. It could be me.”
Dropping to my knees, I tip over backward, my sticky head resting in the debris. My eyes are wide open, but everything’s gone hazy.
“Poor Clay,” I hear Noodle say.
“He’s not dead, is he?” Jess’s voice hovers over me.
Even though I know I’m slipping into unconsciousness, I want to call after them, plead with them to help me, but my lungs won’t work. Darkness creeps
over me like a lead coffin.
I’m walking through the wheat.
The setting sun is an intense red-orange, making it look like the crops are on fire. Even the sound of the wind moving through the wheat makes it sound like it’s sizzling. The sky is a sheet of solid gray. No break in the clouds, like it’s trying to cover something up. The row in the wheat begins to narrow, bending in all around me, leading me to a hollow. I hear a soft humming noise—one of Noodle’s songs, an old one. My heart starts pounding in my chest; my palms are sweaty. Each step fills me with dread. The smell of musty iron and sweet decay fills my nostrils, like rotting meat and candy. As I get closer, I see Noodle kneeling next to the dead calf. That decrepit baby doll is nestled into the calf’s split-open belly. Noodle’s holding something in her hands. Whatever it is, it’s dripping blood. At first, I think it’s a piece of meat, maybe an organ from the calf. She looks up at me. “It’s all for the chosen one,” she says with a childish lilt as she shows me the gift.
* * *
I WAKE in the woods, retching up the contents of my stomach. Pine straw and bile stuck to my face. I sit up and all the blood rushes from my head. It’s pounding so hard, I feel like I’ve got to hold it together or it’ll crack right open. I feel the back of my head; I’ve got a pretty good knot. It’s sticky with blood, but it’s not bad. Nothing an ice pack won’t fix.
I think about searching the woods for that little prick, but I’m not even sure what happened last night. The dreams are so real now. And life sometimes feels like a dream. It’s all mixing together into one fucked-up mess.
Making my way out of the woods next to Merritt’s, I shove my head under the hose. The water’s freezing, but it jolts me out of my stupor.
I go to my truck and pull out my cell phone. I try Miss Granger, but it goes straight to voice mail. I call home. Noodle picks up.
“You must’ve gone out real early this morning,” she says. I can hear every breath, like her mouth’s pressed flat against the receiver.
“Yeah, I had some errands to run. Hey, is Jess there?”
“Still sleeping.” Noodle sighs. “But Miss Granger gave me a present, a really neat outfit that I’m supposed to wear to school. It’s not as fancy as the nun’s costume, but it’s nice. There’s a skirt and a shirt and a coat thing and there’s even a matching outfit for—”