Chapter Thirteen
(Monday Night—Owen)
Owen drove through the growing darkness toward the address Martina had given him. Off the highway to his right were odd, spindly structures. He was slightly embarrassed not to know what they were. He’d always figured they were probably oil refineries or something similarly industrial, though.
Normally he’d be unsympathetic to such obvious examples of what he considered exploitation, but tonight he was struck by their strange, almost unearthly beauty.
They were eerily illuminated with hundreds of small white pinpricks of light, their dense thickets of skeletal towers reaching up into the indigo sky as if they composed a miniature city designed by some alien race of eldritch engineers. Gouts of flame flared sporadically from the tops of some of the towers, and smoke was carried away by the offshore winds in straight lines that put Owen in mind of contrails, as if the alien city were in some sense moving across the earth.
Maybe it was. Maybe the multi-legged oil rigs he’d seen out of town, or offshore on a clear day (or night, and weren’t they lit up with small white lights too?) were both sentry posts and scouts, constantly peering out in search of new territory for the eldritch city. Probably a cruel, cold and ancient race lived within the towers, and the sentries would also be on the lookout for especially succulent humans to drag back for the decadent pleasures of the insectile Lords and Ladies who dwelt in their opulent (though of course very small) palaces.
Yeah, that was probably it. But he needed to watch the road a little more closely if he wanted to arrive at his destination. Regretfully, he let the fantasy slip away, though not without a brief moment of speculation as to the exact nature of the games the Little People (as he had christened them) might enjoy with their defenseless prey.
He was still smiling when he pulled up to Martina’s place. She answered the door wearing the same clothes she’d worn earlier at the office, and he got the sense that she hadn’t relaxed for a moment all day. He could almost hear the high-pitched twanging of jangled nerves. The odors of Italian cooking escaped through the door.
“Hey, Owen,” she said. “You look different somehow. Calmer, maybe.”
“Really? I guess I do feel a little better. My friend Carl and I ate at the City Diner a little while ago.”
“That’d do it,” she agreed. “Come on in. I just finished dinner myself. Want some coffee? And my fence is pretty good, so we can put Shadow out back. I blocked the only big hole with some firewood earlier. I figured he’s probably had enough of being confined for one day.”
Did Shadow even need him anymore? Leon’s dog suddenly seemed to have friends everywhere. Owen put Shadow in the yard and sat at the table drinking his coffee while Martina cleaned up after her meal.
“Smells good,” he said.
“Oh…I like to cook. Are you still hungry? I have leftovers.”
He smiled. “Nope. We had lots of extra food, because the cop and the FBI guy left before their meals showed up. We did our best, but I think Carl’s dogs are going to end up having the feast of their lives on what we didn’t finish. Carl said he would eat it later, but I’ve known him long enough to know better. Those are the two most-pampered Golden Retrievers in the history of the world.” And yes, he’d saved some for Shadow. But she probably had something better. No need to worry his head over it; the Friends of Shadow would take care of everything.
He saw his offhand reference to Gordon and Stanley was having the desired effect. Revenge, however unjustified, was sweet.
“Uh huh. Owen? Are you going to tell me what happened, or shall I just scream for a while first?”
She appeared to be serious. “Um, sure. I was just . . .”
“Teasing?” She smiled at him. “Go ahead and delay some more. I have a feeling this is going to be a long story. I’m going to take a shower and change clothes. There’s plenty of coffee in the pot if you want it.”
Shiver on the Sky Page 17
