The Hunter; The Chase; The Kill

by L. J. Smith

  A hole.

  “It doesn’t say who’s next—but I guess it doesn’t need to,” Michael said, pulling the blanket closer around him. “He’ll save you for last—the best for last, you know. So it’s me. And it doesn’t say how it’s going to happen, but that doesn’t really matter, does it? As long as you know it’s going to happen, and it is. We know that, huh, Jenny? It’s going to happen, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it. That Julian, he’s like the Mounties, he always gets his man. . . .” He began to giggle.

  “Michael, calm down. . . .”

  “So there’s a hole somewhere, and I’m going to fall into it. That’s all we need to know. That’s all, folks.”

  “Maybe not. You said Tom went to get the snake or the wolf—maybe he did. And the base wasn’t there, but maybe we can still find it.”

  “May be, may be—it’s still May, isn’t it?” He looked at the curtained window. It was fully dark outside. He turned back to Jenny. “You know we’re never going to find it.”

  “I don’t know that.” Jenny’s hands were icy cold, but her voice was fierce. “I have an idea—something else Julian said. Something about the hint being as clear as black and white. And before, in my first dream, he said something about image and reality.”

  “What is this reality thing, anyway?” Michael said. “I mean, how do we know we ever got out of the paper house? Maybe this is all an illusion, like when you think you’ve woken up but you’re still dreaming. Maybe we’re still in the old Game. Maybe nothing is solid.” He leaned over and hit the coffee table and giggled again.

  “Michael, why don’t you lie down? Look, I’ll get you some water—”

  “No! Don’t leave me!” He clutched at her as she went by. “If you leave me, he’ll get me! The Shadow Man will get me!”

  “Okay, Michael. Okay.” Jenny looked down into the terrified dark eyes and stroked Michael’s hair as if he were younger than Joey. “Okay.”

  “It’s not okay. I have to go to the bathroom—but he can get me there, too.”

  “No, look, I’ll go with you. I’ll stand right outside the door.”

  “He’ll get me. Didn’t you ever hear about snakes coming out of the toilet? He’ll get me, but I have to go. . . . What a dilemma, huh? Let him get me or bust.” Michael was almost crying, even while he continued to giggle.

  “Michael, stop it. Stop it!” For the second time that day Jenny shook him. “Just calm down! The potty monster is not going to get you, I promise. We’ll look for snakes before you go. Let’s do it now and get it over with, and then we can think about the base.”

  Michael shut his eyes and gulped in a deep breath. When he let it out, he seemed calmer. “Okay.” But he still staggered like somebody half-asleep when Jenny led him to the bathroom.

  “You see? No snakes in there. And I’ll stand right outside.”

  “Leave the door open a crack.”

  “Okay, Michael.” Jenny stood patiently.

  “Jenny?” Michael’s voice behind the door sounded very small. “A toilet’s a lot like a hole. . . .”

  “Just do it, Michael!”

  “Okay.” After a minute the toilet flushed.

  “You see? You’re all right.”

  Michael didn’t answer. The toilet went on flushing.

  “Michael?”

  The sound of rushing water. “Michael, it’s not funny! Come out of there, or I’m coming in.”

  The water rushed on.

  “Damn it, Michael! All right, I warned you—” She jerked the door open.

  The bathroom was empty. The toilet was flushing madly, water swirling round and round. Perched on the edge of the porcelain seat was a paper doll.

  Five little dollies all in a row. Audrey sitting with her arm twisted up as if to say, “Can we talk?” Zach with his pencil-shaded face looking sharp and malicious. Dee, who kept falling on her back no matter how Jenny folded her. Tom, with a drop or two of rain still beaded on his wax. And Michael, whose crayon eyes seemed to stare at Jenny in accusation.

  She’d promised it wouldn’t get him, and it had.

  Jenny was guilty, just as she was guilty of Summer’s death. Not in the sense the police had meant, not the hacking-off-Summer’s-head-and-burying-her-body-in-the-backyard sense, but because she was the one who’d gotten Summer into it. Jenny had invited Summer to play a game that had turned out to be deadly. Jenny had come out alive and Summer hadn’t. Jenny’s Game had killed Summer.

  Now it might have killed the rest of her friends.

  And she was alone. The apartment practically echoed with aloneness. There was no sound since she had jammed a book under the toilet ball to keep it from flushing anymore.

  The rest of them had been picked off one by one. Like ten little Indians. Now she was the only one left, and she was next.

  The base. I have to find the base. I have to get them out before Julian gets me.

  But how?

  The hints. She had to remember them. But her mind was so confused. She was all alone—she could feel the air around her. She could feel how each room in the apartment was empty. The emptiness was crushing her.

  The hints. Think of them, nothing else. Get them in mind.

  But I’m alone—

  Image as opposed to reality.

  A door she’d seen. A door she’d been through, but hadn’t been through.

  Not in the Shadow World. Maybe somewhere halfway.

  What else was halfway? Like the More Games store—

  Black and white.

  A tiny light went on in Jenny’s mind. Yes. It would fit. A door she’d seen and gone through—but that she couldn’t possibly have gone through, depending on how you looked at it. A black and white door.

  It was just then that the piece of paper came fluttering down.

  From nowhere. It came out of thin air as if someone had dropped it from the ceiling. It skimmed and side-slipped and landed almost in her lap.

  Jenny picked it up and looked at the writing.

  I’m something. I’m nothing.

  I am short. I am tall.

  When you fall at your sport, then I stumble and fall.

  I have never been seen yet beneath a new moon.

  I thrive in the evening but vanish at noon.

  I am lighter than air, I weigh less than a breath;

  Darkness destroys me, and light is my death.

  A little over three weeks ago Jenny might have had trouble with that one. What could be destroyed by both light and darkness? What could be both short and tall? What was something and nothing at once?

  But ever since April 22, the day of the Game, the subject of this particular riddle had been on Jenny’s mind. She’d been haunted by it, she’d thought about almost nothing else.

  She saw shadows everywhere these days.

  She had no doubt about what the riddle meant, either. A shadow was coming to get her—the shadow. The Shadow Man. Julian was going to take care of this personally.

  She had barely thought this when all the lights in the apartment went out.

  Chills swept over Jenny. Icy fingers stirred the hairs at the back of her neck. Her palms were tingling wildly.

  I’m in trouble. Bad trouble. But I think I know the answer now. I know where the base is. If I can just get there . . . if I can get to it before he gets to me. . . .

  First, find the way out of the apartment.

  There was some light coming in through the curtains from the walkway. All right—the front door was over there. Jenny picked up Michael’s keys and made her way to it, arms outstretched.

  As she reached the walkway, the lights there went out.

  Cat and mouse. He’s playing games with me. All right, play! This mouse is running.

  Her hand slid on the wet iron railing as she hurried down the stairs. In the carport Michael’s VW Bug was swathed in shadows. Jenny pulled the door open and slipped in, turning the key in the ignition almost before the door was shut. She pulled out just as the parking
lot lights went off.

  Right behind me . . .

  She wrenched the wheel and sped out of the apartment complex.

  The rain had started again, droplets splattering the windshield. Hard to drive safely. Jenny sped on, hoping no one was in her way.

  A stoplight—the brakes screeched. Please, God, don’t let me hit anyone. Please—

  The red light winked out, but the green didn’t come on. The stoplight stayed dark, swaying in the rain.

  Jenny hit the accelerator.

  Canyonwood Avenue—Sequoia Street—Tassajara . . .

  The Bug’s engine coughed.

  No—let me make it. I’ve got to make it. I’m so close—

  Jacqueline Drive . . .

  The engine coughed again.

  Quail Run! Jenny took the turn dangerously fast, tires skidding. The Bug lurched and a horrible grinding sound came from the engine. Still skidding, it hit the curb—and stopped.

  Frantically Jenny turned the key. She got a squeal of metal that set her teeth on edge. Then silence.

  Get out! Quick!

  Abandoning the key, she fumbled with the door, jumped into the rain. She left the door open and ran.

  Up there, just a few more houses. Go, go! She made her legs pump, flying over the wet sidewalk. Don’t look back! Don’t think! Just go!

  There it is! You can see it! A few more yards—

  Lungs burning, she reached the driveway of the mock Tudor house. Zach’s house. The driveway was empty. She staggered to the garage, seized the handle in the middle of the big door. She pulled as hard as she could.

  It was stuck fast. Locked.

  Oh, God! Don’t panic. The side door, quick!

  As she started for it, she could see down Quail Run, could see the deserted Bug nosed against the curb under a streetlight.

  The streetlight went out.

  Then the next closest one did. Then the next.

  A wave of darkness coming toward her. Bearing down on her. The side door was that way.

  Jenny turned and ran toward the front door of the house.

  She grabbed at the doorknob while knocking, and to her surprise it turned. It was unlocked. Were they crazy?

  “Uncle Bill! Aunt Lily! It’s me!”

  She yelled because she didn’t want them to shoot her for a burglar, and because she didn’t care about keeping her secret any longer. She desperately wanted people, any people.

  The house echoed emptily in answer.

  “Uncle Bill! Aunt Lily!”

  The silence was ponderous, a tangible presence. There was no one here. For some unfathomable reason they had gone away, leaving their front door unlocked. Jenny was alone.

  I won’t cry. I won’t scream. I just have to get to the garage, that’s all. Nothing’s changed. I can get there easily. It’s just the length of the house away.

  Her heart was frozen in panic.

  Just go! One foot in front of the other. It’s just an empty house!

  The hallway light went off.

  Oh, my God—he’s here! Oh, God, he’s here, he’s in the house, he’s got me—

  Go!

  She stumbled into the darkness, heading for the lighted living room. Her legs were shaking so badly she could hardly walk. Her outstretched hands were numb.

  She got one glimpse of the living room, then the brass lamp beside the leather couch went out. She banged into a wastebasket made of an elephant’s foot—a thing that had always filled her with horror. She could hardly keep from screaming.

  Every inch of her skin was tingling. Shrinking—as if expecting an attack from any side.

  It was pitch dark. He could be anywhere around her. Anywhere in the darkness, moving quietly as a shadow himself. If she took a step, she might run right up against him.

  She had to do it. She had to find the garage. For Tom—for Dee. They were waiting for her to rescue them. She’d promised Michael . . .

  Sobbing without making a noise, she took a step.

  Now another one, she ordered herself. Feel your way. But it was almost more than she could do to reach out into that darkness. Anything might grab her hand. She might reach out and feel anything. . . .

  Do it!

  She took another step, groping blindly. Shuffling across the floor. Her hand struck a wall, with emptiness beside it.

  The entrance to the dining room. That’s it. And the garage is just on the other side, through the kitchen. You can make it.

  She shuffled into the dining room, one hand on the cool smoothness of wallpaper. She could feel the immensity of the darkness on her exposed side. Something could come at her from that side—

  —or from the wall. Oh, God, he makes things come out of walls. Jenny snatched her hand away from the wallpaper. Nothing was safe. He could grab her from any direction.

  Just go!

  She staggered forward in the dark and found another empty space—the doorway to the kitchen. Thank God. Now just a few more steps. Turn left around the refrigerator. Good. Now the way was clear until the garage—

  She stepped against something warm and hard in the darkness. She screamed.

  “You didn’t think,” the voice like water over rock said gently, “that I would actually let you get there, did you?”

  He was holding her by the upper arms, not roughly but inescapably. Jenny’s eyes were filled with darkness, and the rushing of her own blood filled her ears.

  “Actually, I’m surprised you got this far. I didn’t think you would—but I got your aunt and uncle out of the way just in case. An urgent message from their missing son.”

  I’m going to faint. I really am, this time.

  Jenny couldn’t keep her knees steady. He was half supporting her now.

  “Shh. You don’t need to cry. You’ve lost the Game, that’s all. It’s over now.”

  Dark. She was in complete darkness. She looked around wildly, turning as far as he would let her. If she could only see a tiny light—but there was nothing. The wolf and the snake weren’t here; she would have seen their sickly, phosphorescent glow. She was alone with the Shadow Man.

  And he was going to take her.

  “Oh, God, where are we? Are we there already—at the base?” she said hysterically. It was impossible to tell in this complete darkness.

  “No. Shh, shh, Jenny. We’re going in a moment. You see, here’s the way.”

  Then Jenny did see a light—just a glimmer. A weird, eldritch light like blue electricity. Defining a space opening in the floor behind Julian. A gap, a vortex. A hole.

  CHAPTER 15

  No . . . Jenny couldn’t stand to look at the hole. She turned from it and buried her face in Julian’s chest.

  “It’s all right. Just a little step. Then we’ll be together, Jenny.” He tipped her face up in the darkness, touching it with fingertips cool as marble.

  His touch—so light, so certain. Commanding. As if he could see easily in this utter blackness. So cool. His fingertips traced her wet cheekbone, thumb wiping away the tears. Jenny shut her eyes involuntarily.

  “Together, forever.”

  The cool fingertips brushed over her eyelashes, stroked the hair back from her temple. She felt one trace her eyebrow.

  “It was meant to be, Jenny. You know that. You can’t fight it any longer.”

  The finger ran down her cheek like a cool tear. It traced the outline of her lips, the join between upper and lower. A touch so light she could barely feel it. It took the bones out of her legs.

  Melting, falling . . .

  “Come with me, now, Jenny.” His fingertips brushed the line of her jaw, sending delightful shivers through her. She realized her head had fallen back. Her face was turned up as if for a kiss. “I’ll go with you. It’s time to concede the Game. To surrender . . .”

  A tiny light went on in Jenny’s mind.

  No wolf and no snake. And they were still in Zach’s kitchen, which she knew very well. And the hole was behind Julian—and just beyond that the garage door . .
.

  “All right,” she whispered. “All right, but let go of me. I can walk.”

  Dee always said surprise was the most important element of any attack. Don’t give your opponent a second to consider.

  The instant Julian’s grip loosened, Jenny shoved him.

  She didn’t think about it, she just pushed as hard as she could. And he was taken by surprise. Even his snake-quick reflexes couldn’t save him. With a shout the Shadow Man fell backward into his own black vortex.

  Jenny leaped over the hole at the same moment.

  A jump straight into darkness. If she’d miscalculated, she’d knock herself out against the wall. As it was her hands struck the door, almost upsetting her backward—but she kept her balance. Her fingers closed on the doorknob, she wrenched it—then she was in the garage.

  Zach’s flashlight would be on the wall. At least, she prayed it still would be. She flew across the length of the garage recklessly, groping for it. Julian wouldn’t take long to recover—he could be here any second—

  Flashlight! Jenny thumbed the switch. She had never been so glad to see anything as she was to see the white circular beam that shot out. Light, at last, light.

  She swung the beam to the wall, aiming with dead certainty at what she’d come for. The mural photograph Zach had taken of the high school cafeteria.

  Julian had told her that black and white mixed make so many colors—but not in a photograph. A photograph—an image of reality—an image that included a door. The exit door that the pyramid of tables had almost blocked, a door in the shadows behind the tables. A door Jenny had been through in real life many times. But she’d never been through it—because you can’t open a picture of a door.

  Unless, like the mural on Montevideo Avenue, it was a door into unreality. Into a place halfway to the Shadow World, like the More Games store. Julian could make images into reality. He could make posters and murals come alive. If Jenny looked at this picture in the right way . . .

  As Jenny stared at the door, the handle seemed to bulge out at her. Three-dimensional. Like the doorknob to the More Games store which had stuck out of the mural.

  “Jenny!”

  Julian’s voice behind her, sharp and dangerous. The flashlight went out.