She was running along at a good pace now, just 20 yards away. But then dammit, the light changed and several cars pulled around him on his left to drive through the green light at the intersection. He lost sight of her for several seconds as a long line of traffic rolled by him on his left. And then there she was.
She came up to the intersection and was about to cross, which would have put her right in front of his pickup truck. But then the light changed again—a warning yellow. An orange and white U-Haul truck pulled into the intersection and started a hasty left turn, trying to beat the red light. She paused on the sidewalk while the U-Haul turned onto the street in front of her, and then shrugging and smiling at the driver, who was going through a red light by now, she stepped back on the sidewalk, turned to her left and jogged across North Pleasant Street and then turned right and continued on her way toward the university campus—but now across the street from him.
He unclenched his teeth, snapped the Buck knife closed, and let it fall back into the cup holder. That idiot in the U-Haul had fouled things up. She was now running at a good clip on the other side of North Pleasant Street, moving away from him but worse yet, on a street which was a one way against him that prevented his turning right and going toward campus and following her. He would have to go straight through the intersection and then swing around through side streets and reconnect with North Pleasant Street to find her again. He tapped the gas and moved back out into traffic lane and drove through the light. A quick right turn followed by another right and he was heading back toward North Pleasant Street—but farther down the road and nearer the university campus.
* * *
Chapter 69
Katherine looked back twice as she ran. She loved the ritual of her daily runs, the sweat; the breathing; the feeling that her body was pumping out the staleness of the day; the 15 to 20 minutes of physical and mental focus; and just being alone. She did her best thinking while running--carrying on conversations with herself. She’d once asked Blake if he did that--talked back and forth to himself in different voices and he had looked at her for a long moment and shaken his head no. “I guess I don’t have that much to say to myself,” he said.
Tonight though, she felt a twinge of anxiety. She wasn’t sure why. Like a pebble in a running shoe. Something not quite right that tugged at you. “Come on now, focus,” she told herself out loud. “What’s the problem?”
Okay! The problem? The problem was.....?
The problem was that red pickup truck parked across the street from her as she ran along North Pleasant Street a mile back. For just an instant she had seen the driver shifting about inside the cab of the pickup and something--some small movement of his--had touched a vague chord of memory. She couldn’t place it though.
Put it aside she ordered. Run! Enjoy! Don’t worry about everything! Be here now!
But there was something else. She was pretty sure that same pickup truck had driven by her as she first started her run in the front yard of Pierce Street. She had glanced over her shoulder in time to see the driver tap his brakes as if he wanted to pause for a moment and check his rear view mirror.
Was he checking her out in his mirror? Women worried about these things. Men never did. Never noticed. Never had to. But women, even the tough ones, had to look at the world with a wary eye that men never developed.
Katherine took a deep breath as she ran and cleared her mind. Her legs felt good tonight. She took another deep breath and picked up the pace. Ahead, North Pleasant Street entered the University of Massachusetts campus. There was a big green and white sign alongside the road: “Welcome to the University of Massachusetts: founded in 1875.” The road narrowed slightly as it wound by a mix of modern concrete building and older brick dorms and administration buildings.
The campus pond was on her left, a small rounded acre of murky water with reeds and bulrushes on its shore. Couples were sitting on blankets on the grass near the pond talking softly in the warm evening. She would run past the pond and then circle back around the campus center--an ugly concrete, six-story behemoth, and then jog past the pond on its other side going toward home.
She felt a twinge of envy when she saw the couples near the pond--there was so much life ahead of them. And here she was in her 40s and was never going to have a baby. Sometimes, she disliked her radio talk show because it was always about mistakes. Even at her best, bantering, advising, and laughing about sex, she and Forest were dealing with complaints. And some things in life just couldn’t be fixed.
She veered to her left to avoid a bump on the sidewalk and looked up. Something was wrong! Slowing to a stop right in front of her while pulling in so close that its wheels were on the sidewalk, was the red pickup truck. Startled, Katherine veered further to her left off the sidewalk and onto the grass, and as she did so, a group of a half dozen coeds in short, short running shorts burst out of the front door of a sorority building to her left, and in a laughing, giggling pack swung in behind and ahead of her on the sidewalk.
The driver’s side door of the pickup opened and then closed abruptly. Katherine scampered back onto the sidewalk and ran in the midst of the pack of coeds for 20 yards before looking back. The red pickup truck was pulling back into traffic.
Was it just her imagination? Had that truck pulled up beside her for the driver to talk to her?
He’d come awfully close.
Had he tried to hit her?
God, these girls! Well, OK, these young women. At this age they all looked great--lean long legs in shorts that barely covered their fannies, fresh skin and shiny hair. Why did women this age worry so much about how they looked? To be 20 again.
Katherine turned again as the sorority pack pulled ahead of her. The red pickup was turning left on McLean Street and out of sight.
* * *
Chapter 70
He’d missed her. Curses!
Already he could feel the entity’s swelling anger. Disappointment would be far too soft a word. But he’d have at least one more chance at her. She’d be jogging back from the campus heading toward Amherst center in a few moments. The trick was to get in position and watch for her--then figure out her likely route. He swung left and then left again on the now dark streets near the edge of campus.
Ahead was a large parking lot of several acres--the kind you always seemed to find on the outskirts of a large campus, its blacktop surface divided by signs designating parking for employees or students, but now mostly empty. He pulled in and shut off the engine. He climbed from the truck and stood quietly looking around. From here he could see the campus pond perhaps 600-700 yards away, and the buildings near by--the towering gray Campus Center already twinkling with lights as day turned to night, and next to it the uninspiring 22-story, concrete library with several smaller, older two-story brick buildings squatting below it like hen houses near a large barn.
She would most likely swing around the pond on a path that ran behind the Campus Center and that would mean she would emerge on the other side of the pond heading away from campus--right toward him. He would stay here.
It had been bad luck back there on the street in front of the sorority house--he had started to pullover hoping to just graze her with his bumper, but then realized, too late, that sorority girls were popping out of a doorway nearby. He couldn’t snatch her. Possibly, she hadn’t noticed anything. Just another careless driver on campus.
He reached into his pants pocket and checked for the real treasure. Still there-an ancient stone object with a blue stone that weighed no more than 8 ounces. As long as he held onto that until the moment arrived, he’d be OK. The entity still needed him. It would be nice to clear this troublesome interference from the path, but his real purpose; his true assignment would be tomorrow at the summer solstice with this ancient stone icon.
Katherine circled behind the Campus Center building and picked up the concrete path that ran parallel to the campus pond. The band of sorority sisters, their long legs and scanty shorts drawing ap
preciative looks from guys lurking outside the Campus Center, turned right and vanished into the paths branching off to the north of campus. Katherine ran on, feeling good, though still annoyed and puzzled.
That red pickup truck—first outside her house and then almost hitting her—strange and weird, but probably just some drunken fraternity lout out cruising. The orange sky had tinted to purple bringing the obscurity of night. She could see dark shapes but barely make out faces as she ran. She liked the anonymity of the night—the freedom from being observed.
She ran past the pond, breathing a bit heavy now, pushing herself. Another quarter mile to the campus parking lots, and then slightly less than a mile past the parking lots to the center of Amherst and home to a bath with her husband and then sex.
What had gotten into him?
He was coming alive after a decade of dormancy.
Maybe just getting away from home had helped him.
Or losing his good friend Jimmy from ‘Nam.
She moved quickly with a long stride on the path. It was flat and well maintained. Behind her she heard a grunting and startled for a moment but then a voice, “on your left,” and a lone bicyclist, without lights, powered by her.
=============================================================
He stood outside the pickup truck looking toward campus and the pond. And then...bingo. There she was. He’d guessed right. Jogging out from behind the Campus Center in her striped top and baggy knee-length shorts, she was moving along the concrete walk that ran along the length of the pond; heading up toward the large theater center building. From the theater center she would cross a two-way street and be heading into and through this maze of parking lots that connected to the streets behind. Perfect. The parking lots were all but empty at this hour--the university workers having gone home.
He stood in the fading light in front of his pickup truck, surveying the scene--moving his head slowly back and forth as was his habit. There were several other vehicles in the parking lot, but they were unattended. Two lots down, a large old sedan of indeterminate age and color had its interior light on and he could see two guys, one carrying several pizza boxes, the other with a case of beer under his arm. They were fussing about, loading the beer into the trunk, carefully placing the pizza boxes on the back seat and arranging cushions on the side to keep the pizza from sliding.
Students. Not a care in the world. Probably just the same type that had made his time on campus such hell. But far enough away to not be a problem. His trusty Buck knife was in the truck. He would go sit in the cab of his pickup so she wouldn’t notice him. She might be suspicious of a guy leaning on his pickup truck in an empty parking lot at night. No need for that.
She was approaching fast. Time to get ready. Check out the lay of the land one more time. He swung his head back and forth—watching, assessing, calculating her approach. A car was just exiting the parking lot above him, turning toward Amherst. Beautiful. He swung his glance back toward the path.
A problem?
Yes!
No!
Maybe not!
She had broken stride only a hundred yards away from him. Started limping for a moment and now.
What the fuck!
She was turning to her right away from the parking lot. Jogging down the street away from him. And going fast. Fast for someone who had just a moment ago pulled up lame.
What was going on?
From 100 yards away in the gathering dusk, no way could she have recognized his truck. But now she was running fast, almost sprinting, crossing the street and running hard toward those guys with the beer and pizza in the other parking lot.
Something had gone wrong. He felt a small thunderclap of air around his head. The entity. Angry and frustrated. Abandoning him.
“I’ll do it myself. I’ll take care of this. You idiot.” He could sense the words, not hear them spoken in any way. And he knew the entity was done with him for tonight. Leaving him. He could feel its presence whooshing away riding on a wind that suddenly scoured the parking lot.
He was alone. There was still his assignment tomorrow, and maybe then the entity would use him again. But for now, it was all over. He was drained and empty like a discarded can. The immense satisfaction of hunting and possessing humans was gone--abruptly sucked out of him with the wind that bore the entity away. Oh, sure he could carry on--work on his own. But it wouldn’t be the same. The focus, the insights, the good timing—all would be gone and he would eventually get caught. Because without the entity to guide him, he would become just another creep with a knife and a problem.
He had tears in his eyes as he climbed back into the pickup. He would follow her, but knew that she was gone from his sights for the night. Tomorrow, he could not fail. The entity’s wrath would be unimaginable.
* * *
Chapter 71
As she ran, Katherine looked at the buildings on campus. That’s what she had wanted to be—an architect. It hadn’t worked out, but she still loved to look and study design.
To her left was the sprawling, modern jumble of concrete and glass and weirdly juxtaposed tunnels that led to entrances of the Bulger Theater Center. The building and the entrance were eye-catching but a bit too modern, rambling and unfocused, a tad pretentious she thought.
She ran past the silent concrete building and looked ahead to the road and the parking lots on the other side. Always so quiet at night over there. At around 7;30 in the morning, the parking lots filled almost instantaneously, like one of those stop-motion films that show an empty stadium and then a stream of people scuttling forward and next a packed full stadium. But at night the lots were empty and a relaxing open place to run through.
Katherine looked across the street and into the parking lots and saw a lone figure standing by a pickup truck parked in the middle of the lot. “Oh, so what,” she said out loud to herself. “Give it a rest. Stop being so paranoid. It’s a beautiful evening and you’re enjoying a nice run. Relax.”
She glanced again toward the lone figure, still distant—but now less than 100 yards away and across the street. Katherine gasped. For a moment, she stumbled, and then shaking, hobbled for several feet--faking an injury to slow her advance toward the parking lot.
The man, for that was what the figure appeared to be, was moving his head back and forth as he looked about him, moving his head in a slow peculiar mechanical motion of stops and starts that matched a moment in Katherine’s memory. And, he had seen Katherine. The large head swung around to look in her direction. A loud inner voice began booming into her ear: Remember! remember...remember....remember!
And she did. Finally.
She had caught just a hint of the familiar when she had noticed the red pickup truck stopped at the light as she began her run toward campus 20 minutes ago. The driver sitting behind the wheel, twisting his head to glance at her, the movement of his head setting off a tick of memory. But she hadn’t been able to place it. But now she knew. Knew with great fear and certainty, the way one knows that bad news is coming by the look on the speaker’s face before a word is uttered.
It was that stiff movement of the head and neck. The body set and still with the shoulders not moving while the rather large head rotated in a series of movements, each movement followed by a pause, like the hour hand on a clock jumping forward. A very distinctive movement of the head made all the more distinctive by the total stillness of the rest of the body.
And now she knew where she had seen it before.
The dark at the top of the stairs.
Night in her house at home in Ohio. A subtle noise dragging her from sleep. She slipping away from her bedroom to the alcove. An intruder ascending the stairs. She looking out from the alcove. A figure standing there in the dark, body not moving, slowly rotating his head in that clocklike motion. Looking for something or somebody.
Looking for her.
Connections, connections, connections...who would have thought there was a connection all the way
from Columbus, Ohio to Amherst, Massachusetts.
Katherine veered to her right and began running down the hill. No way was she crossing the street and jogging through that parking lot in front of that pickup truck and the robotic stranger.
Ahead of her and across the street in another parking lot, two guys were stashing beer and pizza in a beat up old car. Katherine ran fast, practically sprinting the last 75 yards. She slowed to cross the street and glanced upward toward the truck in the parking lot. The pickup truck was still there but it was not moving. The stalker with the strange head movements was gone--no longer silhouetted against the sky. Perhaps he was now in his truck. The pickup truck was not chasing her. Yet.
She came up fast to the old car. Two young guys, college kids, one tall and thin, the other a chubby kid with a round face, both in cutoffs, tee shirts, long hair--laughing and poking each other. Katherine stopped a few yards away and pulled on her leg. She stopped running and limped in a circle holding her knee.
“I pulled something,” she said loudly.
“Hey, you OK?” the short, chubby student said looking her way. He stopped poking at his friend and held out a can of beer as if offering a particularly fine medicine that would cure any ailment.
“Give you a hand there,” the tall, thin one said approaching. “Come sit for a minute.”
Katherine hobbled over to the car. “Thanks, guys.” They both looked at her appreciatively, but then with a touch of deference as they realized she was older. “Hurt my knee,” she said. “Got to get back to town though.”
“Hey, hey. Don’t try to walk. No way,” the taller of the two said.
“Jeez, yeah. Hop in. We’ll run you into town. Have a beer.” the other said, trusting a can of beer toward her. “I hurt my knee playing basketball and I couldn’t go to class for two weeks.”
Faces in the Night Page 25