4
Daylight woke him, shining throw the curtains, on his face and he realized he’d fallen asleep on the sofa. The TV was still on, some morning cartoon playing. He shut it off and went to the kitchen to
brew a pot of coffee.
“Okay Jeremy, what do you want to do today?” He decided he’d take a walk through the park after breakfast, and bring a book with him.
“Good read?” someone asked as he sat at the park bench with his book.
“As good as any,” Jeremy said.
“Mind if I join you, or would I be interrupting your reading?”
“No, go right ahead.” He actually did mind, because he’d found that old men were generally only good company around other old men. This fellow would start talking and go on and on about his arthritis and rheumatism. And that was precisely what happened. He laid his book down and listened. It was all he could do. This was someone with nothing to do, and no one to see, looking for anyone to talk to. He understood perfectly. Jeremy felt sorry for him.
The old man must have seen something in his face because he looked at Jeremy seriously and said, “Bad day son?”
“No,” Jeremy shook his head. Not yet.
“Bad week?”
“Bad life.”
The old man nodded, understanding. Maybe he won’t leave so soon as the others.
Jeremy jumped back. It’d been years since he’d picked up anyone’s thoughts. Usually all he got were random snippets. He tended to avoid most human contact. Humans were invariably disappointing. He could pick up substantial information if the person were under emotional duress: Acute depression, anger. But it worked for any extremes, including an over abundance of joy. For a little while back in his youth he was able to control it. But never again since. He had as little control over what he received as villages had over surprise tornadoes.
He knew this man had to be incredibly sad. He couldn’t feel his emotions but it was in his tone. The tone of the old man’s voice in his head. He picked up that he lived alone. Widowed. His wife having died a few years back. He’d been married some twenty five or so years. He wasn’t sure about children, but if he had any they didn’t speak in his mind at the moment. Jeremy listened to the man’s outer voice for about ten minutes, but the sound of him speaking mixed with all the jabbering going on in his brain was too much.
He made up some excuse. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.” He didn’t remember where he said he was going to, and it didn’t matter. He just needed to get away.
No, please don’t leave, the old man thought, and he felt like his heart would break, but he had no choice. It was either that or his head would explode.
He looked back, and didn’t have to read his thoughts to see the pleading in the old man’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Jeremy said. “Really, it was nice to meet you.”
Liar! That was his own voice this time. Of course he’d lied. He couldn’t tell the old fella he was giving him a headache.
5
He had to lay down when he got home. He didn’t sleep, but he didn’t get up until about six. That was when he started to feel really hungry. Something was happening. He hadn’t felt the power this strong in a long time. He knew the old man’s state was sensitive but he thought that there must be something else, someone else, trying to open his mind. That’s what it felt like.
It wasn’t until after eight when the presence made itself known. He was actually in better spirits now, laughing at The Simpsons.
Jeremy. It wasn’t like the old man. It wasn’t intense. It came as a whisper at the back of his brain. He was scarcely sure he’d heard it. He looked up and around, shrugged, and continued watching television.
Jeremy. This time it was louder, but still soft. There was warmth in the voice, but also something alien. Like icy tendrils slithering across his brain pan. Yet it was distinctly feminine.
He muted the television. Jeremy, the whisper came again,
slightly more insistent. He shivered.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
There was no reply for several seconds. He thought he sensed the entity struggling to communicate. Jeremy, he heard the voice rise in his head as if from a great abyss. The next words came like static, flickering in and out of his consciousness. Come ou…ide. Come outside, he thought it said.
Jeremy, come outside, it affirmed.
“Why? What do you want?” he said aloud, completely aware that the voice was in his head and not in the room.
Come ouuuuttt. The same conflicting warmth and cold. The same sense that it was female, both human and alien.
“I’ll go,” Jeremy said, “But you better show yourself.”
Again there was a pause in which no response came. Then:
…time.
Time? Jeremy wondered.
In time.
He nodded to no one, and made the slow descent downstairs, and stepped outside. The streets were quiet tonight except for a small scattering of cars going by in a hushed procession, slightly more pronounced by the recent rainfall slicking the roads. A gentleman in a baby blue three piece suit with white shirt and tie, head down and hands in his pocket, walked by. He didn’t pick up any thoughts from him.
Jeremy waited until he passed out of sight and said, “Where are you?”
Left. Follow m..vo...e. my..m..y voi…voice.
“Okay.” He turned left. “Keep talking.”
Jeremy. He walked. It seemed to be leading him toward the entertainment district. He hoped there wouldn’t be competing voices.
This way. She was getting stronger.
God, I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.
Tru…ust me.
Sure, he thought. Trust you.
This way. He followed. Followed her to the front of Sandy’s, a Go-Go joint.
Here? Jeremy asked.
Here, the voice confirmed. Come on in, don’t be shy.
Jeremy shook his head, inhaled, and let out a deep breath.
“All right,” he said, “Here goes,” and entered.
6
Despite his reservations to come here, or any such establishment, he went in. He hadn’t entered a Go-Go bar since college. He knew why. The thought of scantily clad beauties he could never possibly have would only make his melancholia worse, and he didn’t need any more reasons to feel bad. Stepping into Sandy’s was like being invited to enter Heaven, only to realize you’d have to stand outside a glass door looking in, while everyone inside had all their heart’s desire. He sat at the bar in front of the circular stage, looking up dreamily at the girls in two piece bikinis and G-strings, their breasts and behinds barely contained.
“What are you having?” He looked at the waitress walking up in her short shorts and white shirt tied at the midriff, revealing a sleek waistline, a lacy white bra and ample cleavage. He focused on her eyes, a light green with flecks of brown. Her hair was blonde, tied back in a ponytail, reminding him briefly, painfully of Staci. But the bartender’s hair was a much darker blonde, almost brown.
“Um, um,” Jeremy stammered. “I’m actually just looking for someone.”
“Well, if you’re going to sit here you have to order something.”
The bark in her voice, the barely restrained impatience- she was definitely not Staci.
“All right. Give me a double shot of Vodka, on the rocks.
She raised her eyebrow, impressed. She probably assumed
Jeremy was a light weight, but some nights hard alcohol was your
greatest friend. Your only friend.
“Coming right up.”
She probably would have been more impressed if he’d skipped the ice, but he needed to cool down.
Jeremy.
Shit! He jumped. For a moment he’d almost forgot why he was here.
Where are you? he said; not aloud this time.
Be there in a minute baby.
The bartender slid him his drink and he coughed up the dough, which he was t
hankful he’d had the foresight to bring. He was pretty sure he had a few singles stuffed in his pocket too (if he needed them) from some change he’d got back a few days earlier.
One of the girls danced up to him, jiggling her breasts several inches from his face. As much as he wanted to look he turned away, the shy kid poking his ugly head out once more.
“Aww, what’s the matter honey? You afraid of little old me?”
She took his head in her hands and stuck his face between her breasts. When she let go, he shook his head, his disbelief obvious. She was still dancing in front of him, making no motion to approach him again. She was waiting for her money.
Jeremy dug in his pocket, and pulled out a single. He put it between her breasts as was customary, snatching his hand away quickly before they swallowed it whole. She looked down at it and frowned. He supposed she was expecting a few singles or maybe even a fiver for the breast-face thing. Jeremy raised his hands and shrugged. Sorry, poor man here. He looked around. Where is she? Jeremy, the voice came again, in response. He followed the sound of it and saw another girl coming on to the stage from the back. She sidled up to him, crouched down and took his hand. “Hi baby.”
Hi Jeremy is what she said with her mind. Not what you expected?
No, he admitted, though the coldness was still there. Her hand was lukewarm, like it’d just been thawed, but her skin was incredibly smooth and lustrous. Her red-blonde hair fell over her
breasts as she leaned in.
Who are you? How do you know my name?
She smiled. We’ll talk, but not here. I’m off at one. Take me back to your place and I’ll tell you all you need to know.
“You better tell me something now lady!” Everyone turned and looked at him. He was screaming because he was afraid.
She put a finger to his lips, her face close to his, her full lips mouthing a Shhhh.
“Not here,” she said.
“How do you know me? At least tell me that much.”
“All right,” she said. She hesitated before she answered. Blake, she sent him.
His eyes opened wide, and he whispered, “Blake?”
She shushed him again. Yes, now if you just invite me to your place tonight when I get off, I can tell you everything.
“You stay away from me,” Jeremy said, pointing his finger at her accusingly. “You hear me? Stay away!”
He blasted his way through the doors. Jeremy’s waitress walked up to her, perplexed, but grinning. “Hmm,” she said. “Didn’t even finish his drink. You’re supposed to bring customers in, you know, not scare them away.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
7
Jeremy shivered. She’d got so close, and he’d been completely unprepared. Of course, she wouldn’t have done anything to him in public, he knew that. Not working in such a “lucrative” establishment. Blake? Blake had sent her? That didn’t make any sense. Blake would be in his seventies now. But she knew of him obviously, and knew Jeremy, which was even stranger.
He tried to forget it; turned on the radio, low, so the neighbors wouldn’t complain. He was too afraid to leave his apartment again, but too wired to sleep. It was almost one thirty
when he got up from the sofa, stood in front of his desk, and turned
on the computer. He loaded the beginning of his novel, the blank document, but for one line, reading: JEREMY DANIELS HAS NO LIFE. Should he even attempt to write or…
“Hello Jeremy.”
He jumped, startled. “Oh God!” It was her, standing by the window. He should’ve known better than to leave it open, but he was fourteen floors up. The drapes blew lightly in the breeze and she was softly backlit by the outside neon. But even with the shadows and the bulky trench coat, he could tell it was her.
“How did you get in here?” He propped his hand on the desk to steady himself.
She came closer. He could make out her smile now. “Your landlord let me in. You didn’t come Jeremy,” she pouted. “I waited for you and you didn’t come.”
He looked at her. She hadn’t really answered his question.
“It was nice of you to leave the window open. I knew you wouldn’t answer your door.”
“Get out,” Jeremy said.
“Oh now, is that any way to treat a lady?”
“You’re no lady.”
“But I was… once.”
She was inches from him now, in the circle of light cast by the reading lamp at his desk. Though still heavily shadowed he could make out her features now. She was really quite beautiful, and he knew he couldn’t trust that. Her hand pulled at the sash at her waist, her coat opening to reveal she was naked underneath. He was backed against the desk now. She pressed her body against his, her nipples hard. And he knew, despite the breezy night, it wasn’t from the cold.
Look away Jeremy, he told himself. Look away. And he did. She kissed his neck. He cringed and pulled away.
“If I let you have me, will you trust me?”
“No, I can’t trust you,” he said.
“I’m not here to hurt you Jeremy.”
“Why… why are you here?”
“Blake. I’m getting weak Jeremy, but he knew I could reach you, because of your ability, and because of who I am. I can’t hold out much longer. It’s taking over.”
“Please,” Jeremy said, “If you want me to trust you, you have to back away.”
“I haven’t killed anyone,” she assured him, slowly backing off.
“That’s good,” Jeremy said, not sure what else to say. “What do you want from me?”
“Help. I need your help Jeremy. I’m not a bad person.” As if to prove this she closed her coat. Jeremy flicked on the overhead light in the living room, where she seated herself on the couch he’d been on only moments before. He didn’t sit next to her but stood, facing her.
“What kind of help?”
“Help to stop it,” she said. “Stop the change.”
“You can’t stop it. It’ll happen, no matter how much you fight it.”
“No, there is a way. Surely Blake must have told you.”
“How do you know Blake?”
“He was there, when it started for me. He was there to help, but he’s growing old Jeremy. Tired.” She hesitated. “He’s told me so much about you, I feel like I already know you.”
“But I don’t know you.”
“No,” she agreed. “You don’t. I’m Eve.” She offered her hand. He only blinked at it. Jeremy expected her to put it down when he didn’t shake it, but Eve didn’t. He took it hesitantly.
Eve sighed. “Jeremy, Blake is dying.”
He looked at her squarely. She was serious. “Dying?”
Jeremy held his hand to his head. This time he did sit on the sofa. Eve placed her hand on his leg. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“Listen, I know this is a lot to put on you, but he wanted me to contact you. It’s not just me that needs help. Innocents that haven’t been exposed; many who will die. It's started again. Not one or two of them. There’s been a resurgence.”
“I thought they were all wiped out!”
“No, several survived, and they’ve been amassing, growing. It’s not over Jeremy. It’s not just there. They’ve always been everywhere, just in small groups. But they’re being birthed again, in the pit, in mass quantities. The disappearances have started again. They’re recruiting little children too Jeremy. Little children!”
He shook his head, “No.”
“Yes. Blake is getting old, that’s why he sent me. The last fight took a lot out of him. He’s not up to this. He can’t do it alone. He can’t do it at all, anymore. You have to go back to Massachusetts.”
He opened his eyes, disbelieving. “You have to Jeremy. Call your friends.”
“I have no friends.”
“YES- you do. You had them back then, and you’ll have them now. This is war Jeremy, and you’re the only one who can end it.”
“Why me?�
�
“Because, you and your friends are special. You beat them once. You can do it again.”
“No, we fought and fought. In the end it was luck, chance that saved us.”
“Could be,” she said. “But you survived as long as you did because of strength.”
“No, no!” he yelled repeatedly, his body trembling. Tears flew from his eyes. “I can’t do this again! I won’t relive it again!”
Eve put her hand on his shoulder. “Jeremy, those people are living it right now. If you don’t do this, there won’t be a town to go back to. And if they take Mercy Falls, which town is next, and after that…? I can understand if you won’t do this for me, but do it for the others who can’t fight for themselves. Do it for Blake.”
“We’re not teenagers anymore!”
She looked at him angrily now. “Neither was Blake and he fought to the bitter end. At least go see him before he dies.”
That last struck a chord. Jeremy said, “I’ll call the others, and see what they want to do, if I can find them.”
“I found you, didn’t I?” Eve said.
“Why does he trust you?” In asking that question, Jeremy
realized that he was also, in essence, choosing to trust her, and to believe everything that she’d just told him.
“Because he knows me. He was there for me. He helped me to fight my urges. But I’m failing Jeremy. I want the chance to go back to who I was, before it’s too late. And if you decide you want to go back, I’ll be right there fighting alongside you.”
CHAPTER FOUR
BETWEEN THE ROCK SPOT
AND A HARD PLACE/BETTY PART I
(1985-1986)
I
1
The old warehouse was the site of Carl’s interrogation, but Max didn’t make it seem like an interrogation, at first. He started off friendly, but everyone knew what was coming as they sat and watched intently from the crates where they sat.
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