Josh shrugged.
“All right, well, I don’t want to set off any sirens just in case were wrong about the noise and those creatures are actually drawn to that sort of thing. Maria, I’m going to need your help.”
“Okay.” Maria nodded eagerly.
“While we check the freezer, I—”
“Refrigerator,” Josh corrected.
“Right. While we check the fridge, I need you to see if Josh’s mom’s car is parked in the back.”
“Okay.”
“You have to go out the front though, okay?”
“I get it. What kind of car does she have?”
“It’s a Buick LaCrosse,” Josh answered.
“What’s that?”
“It’s just like a regular car. Kind of long. White with four doors.”
“The model of the car should be on the back,” Allie instructed. “And I doubt there will be more than a couple cars parked out there.”
Maria nodded. “Okay.”
Allie nodded toward Maria’s arms. “Are you okay? With Antonio, I mean. Do you want me to take him for a little bit?”
Maria’s eyes turned steely, her lips flat. “No,” she said, holding Allie’s look for a few beats longer before turning and pushing through the double doors toward the front of Carla’s.
Allie watched the swinging door close and then looked back at Josh. “Okay, then. Shall we?”
Josh nodded, and he and Allie strode slowly toward the walk-in cooler, a modern-looking piece of equipment that was probably ten by ten, maybe eight feet deep, and took up the entire wall at the end of the kitchen.
When they reached the refrigerator, Allie quickly placed her hand on the door handle and pushed down, but she paused for just a moment, bracing herself. She took a breath and then pulled the door open wide, and she was instantly met by a fog of condensation, the cool gush of the interior air so refreshing in the heat of the day. She stepped onto the floor of the cooler, and the moment she cleared the haze of the mist, she immediately saw a woman huddled in the corner with what looked to be a curtain draped across her back and shoulders.
“Mom.” The word came whispered and coarse from behind Allie, trapped in Josh’s throat as if he was about to vomit.
Allie rushed toward the woman and grabbed her face with both hands, gently turning it towards her, studying her eyes, checking for life. Allie gave her face a tender shake and the woman’s eyes fluttered, her blue lips quivering, searching for warmth.
“What’s your mom’s name, Josh.”
Josh stood motionless, not answering.
“Josh!”
“Huh?”
Allie lowered her voice. “Your mom. What is her name?”
He swallowed. “Deedee.”
Allie turned back to the woman and leaned in close, her nose only a couple inches from her face. “Deedee, I’m Deputy Allie Nyler? I’m a police officer. Do you understand me?”
The woman’s eyes wobbled and rolled, struggling to focus. She formed her lips in a pucker as if preparing to speak, but no sound formed in her throat.
“Mom!” Josh shouted this time, broken from his trance, and he raced from the threshold of the cooler toward his mother.
“Josh,” Deedee whispered, and Allie knew this recognition of her son was a good sign.
Deedee tried to raise her arms and reach for Josh, but her limbs wouldn’t quite lift, and she turned away, huddling again under the curtain as if ready to return to her slumber.
“No, no, Deedee. It’s time to get up now. It’s too cold to stay in here.”
“No!” Deedee whipped her neck back around toward Allie, her eyes flashing open, locking on the deputy as if she’d just asked her to dive into a vat of bubbling acid. She began to shake her head violently, her blue lips and pale skin making her look like a corpse on the cusp of reanimating.
“Listen to me, Deedee, it’s safe now. I promise. You’re going to die if you stay here.”
Deedee’s eyes softened slightly, blinking in understanding.
“I’m going to lean in now, and when I do, I want you to put your arm around my neck. We’re going to get up and take a walk. Okay?”
“I can’t. I ca—”
“Right now, Deedee! You are going to put your arm around me and we’re going to walk out of here. There’s no one...there’s nothing out there. It’s just me, you, and Josh.”
Deedee didn’t reply, but her eyes reflected her earlier expression of terror as they bounced from Allie to Josh and then back to Allie. The woman had seen the creature; Allie had no doubts about that.
“Mom?”
Deedee’s eyes shifted to her son again.
“Please, mom, you have to get up.” He shook his head. “It’s not here. If it was before, it’s not anymore.”
Deedee blinked several times and then forced out a short breath, an exhalation that was raspy and staggered, suggesting her lungs didn’t have many gasps left.
“Come on,” Allie said, “let’s get you warm.”
She dipped her shoulder low by Deedee’s right armpit, compelling the woman to take the crutch. Deedee hesitated for a moment, but then some primal instinct kicked in, compelling her to comply, and with some effort, she hoisted her arm around the deputy’s neck. Josh moved in quickly and draped his mother’s left arm around his own neck, and then he and Allie lifted the nearly frozen woman to her feet.
“Good job, Deedee, you’re doing perfect.”
Allie and Josh walked Deedee down the length of the kitchen, through the double doors and out to the front of the restaurant. There they deposited her in the first booth by the door, and then Allie quickly returned to business side of the counter to start a fresh pot of coffee. As she filled the filter with coffee with one hand, she noticed a pile of soup crackers beside the coffeemaker and began grabbing packets and pocketing them, figuring Deedee would need some nourishing to get back to par.
Suddenly, Allie gasped and spun on her heels toward the front door.
Maria.
MARIA SPOTTED THE VEHICLE immediately in the back lot, long and white, just as Josh had described. She took it as a bad sign, that Josh’s mother had shown up for work and was now in the same dark place where her own mother and father now lived.
She turned to head back to deliver the grave news, but as she pivoted toward the front of the restaurant, the vast landscape of the desert caught her eye for the first time in months. She felt drawn to it, the freedom and openness of the dirt and sand and dust that stretched for miles before finally ending at the craggy red mountains in the distance. Maria stepped slowly to the edge of the concrete back lot and stood motionless for several seconds, staring across to the world beyond the horizon.
Were they out there too?
It was the question on everyone’s mind, though no one had yet asked it aloud. If the answer was ‘yes,’ it meant the world was ruined, and Maria now pondered that possibility, imagining what such a prospect would look like a month from now—or even a week.
As if triggered by his sister’s apocalyptic thoughts, Antonio began to stir, making noises that Maria had yet to hear from her brother, whines and grunts, the sounds of a normal, fussy baby. She gazed down at him and rubbed his forehead, fighting back tears, understanding that, monsters or not, her brother’s future was not to be.
She looked up to the desert again and forced an image of hope into her mind, wedging it tightly between her rogue visions of an awaiting, desolate world. She had a duty—not just to Antonio and the remaining days of his life, but to Josh and Allie and anyone else who was still alive in their town. And to the world outside, if the rest of humanity was indeed in the path of Garmella’s new evil. What she could do for the world personally, a girl her age and size, Maria couldn’t concretely conceive; but she was alive, breathing, and that meant she had the power to help.
Maria brought Antonio tightly into her breast and spun defiantly back toward the diner, but before she landed her first step of return, a dull scrap
ing sound echoed from the far end of the diner. She froze with Antonio clutched to her shoulder and craned her neck slightly forward, searching the air for remnants of the sound. She wanted to run but was unable to move, despite the surge of adrenaline that was signaling for her legs to flee. And her renewed inspiration, her ideas of valor and obligation, suddenly became blurry and dark, as if an umbrella had been opened above her head, shadowing her ability to think.
“No,” Maria whispered, squeezing her eyes tightly, fighting the sudden leak of cognizance. She knew it was close, it had to be, and when she opened her eyes again, she saw it immediately, or at least the outline of it, hovering like a small fog at the opposite end of the rectangular building that was Carla’s Diner. Yet its approach didn’t seem imminent; instead the beast lingered at the corner of the adjoining walls of the restaurant, just below a cluster of overhanging trees where an umbra shrouded the lot.
Maria could still feel her mind slipping, but it wasn’t spiraling in an uncontrollable whirlwind the way Josh had described, and Maria focused again on the fight ahead, pulling her ideas toward her like the stronger of two tug-o-war participants, bracing her body so the tension in her muscles matched that of the thoughts in her mind. The thing wasn’t close enough to lock her mind in fully, it was the only explanation for her mental resistance.
Why aren’t you coming for me?
She didn’t have the answer, but Maria knew not to force her luck, and she began to back away slowly, taking each step with meticulous care, never taking her eyes from the beast, expecting it to whoosh through the air like a dark wind at any second and consume her in a tempest.
But the monster showed no signs of movement, ensuring Maria’s escape at this point, and when she reached the corner of Carla’s and was out of view of the creature, she turned to run, and as she did, she nearly collided with another figure that was racing toward her from behind.
And then she screamed.
ALLIE DASHED FROM BEHIND the counter and was through the front door before Josh or Deedee could turn to see her leave. She turned right at the entrance, her throat tight, heart racing, her mind preparing itself to witness the charred, mangled body of Maria Suarez. Or, perhaps worse, not to see her at all. Maybe she had already been scalded to black and her body snatched away like her parents before her. The thought of this final vision brought a sudden splash of tears to Allie’s eyes, and as she raised her hand to wipe them away, she saw a body backing its way toward her.
Allie stopped on a dime and sidestepped, just missing a head on crash with Maria and Antonio.
Maria screamed, letting the yawp explode through the air until there was no breath left in her lungs, and then she reloaded and screamed again, instinctively covering her brother’s ears.
“Maria.” Allie put her hands softly on Maria’s forearms. “Maria, shh, shh, shh; it’s okay.”
The girl was stuck in her panic, and Allie continued shushing her until her breathing finally slowed enough that she could speak.
“Maria, honey, what’s wrong?”
Maria looked up at Allie for just a moment and then stared down at her brother, inspecting him. He was breathing, and Maria glanced back to the deputy. “It’s here,” she said.
Allie flashed her eyes past Maria and scanned the back lot, and then she unholstered her weapon and walked past the girl toward the back of the restaurant. “Where?”
“No!” Maria shouted after her, but Allie was already at the corner of the restaurant, staring down the length of the wall. Nothing.
Maria moved with trepidation until she was beside Allie, not an inch away from the deputy, and then she pointed absently in the direction of where the creature had been only moments ago. “It was there. At the corner.”
Allie took a few steps in the direction, to ensure whatever danger had been there was truly gone, and then she turned and looked at Maria, her eyes soft, apologetic. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Maria swallowed and nodded. “But it...it didn’t come for me. For us. It saw me. I know it did! And Antonio, he started to fuss and make noise.”
Allie could only imagine how hungry the baby must be, and she made a mental note to prepare a bottle of formula when they got back to the cruiser.
“But it never made a move toward us. Why?”
“I...I don’t know.”
“And now it’s gone?” Maria asked rhetorically.
Allie smiled softly. “Well, we know they’re no fans of loud noises, and that shriek was about as deafening as I’ve heard from someone in a long time.”
Maria gave the explanation some thought and then nodded, acknowledging the possibility. But her scream wasn’t louder than the shotgun blasts from earlier, and the creature hadn’t fled then. There was something missing, and she couldn’t quite place it.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Day of the Rain
Winston stood a pace and a half from the window of his fifteen-foot-high deer stand and stared out at his private lake, intoxicated by the smell of the rain on the morning breeze, a signal that his prize was only hours away. The deer stand—which was actually more like an exotic hotel, one where the rooms are built in jungles and cater to the more adventurous traveler—was more equipped than Winston’s first two apartments combined, and though it was his first trip to the stand in well over a year—maybe two—he wondered now why he used it so seldomly. Of course, he’d never actually shot at anything from the stand—the structure was built by the original owners and Winston wasn’t much of a hunter—but since it was a feature of the property, Winston had decided years ago to invest well over fifty thousand dollars into it, thus turning it from a hunter’s hideout to a luxury, on-site getaway.
He kept the power button on his boombox off, but he spun the wheel of the volume control three-quarters of the way to maximum, just in case. Should he need it, the music—a term he thought of as loosely as any combination of sounds he could have imagined—would come from a band called Belphegor’s Prime, which was, as promised by the muscle-bound clerk who sold him the CD at Strutman’s Entertainment Exchange in Flagstaff, “the hardest shit he’d ever heard.” Not Winston’s cup of tea, of course, but it was a second line of defense, and one he’d chosen not to ignore.
It was already 6 am, and Winston knew by this time of day the creatures were well into their slaughter. By his own estimate, they had likely made collections of half the town by now. Perhaps more.
That hour of morning also meant that at any moment the Arali would reach his house—or perhaps were already there—at which point the black, amorphous shapes would continue their relentless hunt, unconcerned with any arrangements that had been made amongst a handful of their quarry living on the surface above them. And, as Zander had assured him, when the creatures found no one home at his mansion, the last site of their campaign, their initial mission would be complete, and the Arali would move on to the second phase of the quest, a recanvassing of the town in a search for any souls missed during the initial pass.
Winston had already been up for hours, of course, ever since the moment the first drop of rain hit his bedroom window, which, he estimated, was sometime around one in the morning. At the plunk of the droplet against the glass pane, his eyes had flashed like lightning, the noise startling him as if a boulder had crashed onto his roof, so expecting of the rainfall had Winston become.
Zander had been right; he had predicted it all correctly. From the arrival of the storm (not a single forecast of precipitation from any source Winston had seen) to the effectiveness of the interference of the telescope (though that part Winston was still leery of, unconvinced it had any effect on the Grieg’s readings), the stranger from an extinct Canadian Indian tribe had navigated the months leading up to this day with precision. Even his suggestion of an endowment to the public works was spot on. Winston had sent a hand-written apology to the county council for his noise violations, along with a scholarship offer of $25,000: $5,000 each to five separate county students, to be decid
ed on by a vote of the school board. Since that mailing, he’d not received a single visit from the sheriff’s department.
This was all the evidence Winston needed, and the instant the rain began to fall, he knew the day of the Arali had arrived, and he quickly grabbed his bag and headed out back to his awaiting golf cart, which he drove to the lake where he would ride out the day of butchery in the safety of his tree stand.
Winston paced the floor of his hideout, trying to dredge up a distraction, something that would keep him from exiting the log structure, where he could step to the outer perch and look down past the lake, across the valley to the handful of homes visible from that position. With binoculars, he might even be able to spot one of the collections in progress, or at least catch a glimpse of one of the creatures as it strode menacingly through the streets, a cloudlike personification of death entering the residence of one of its unwary targets.
But restraint was a quality Winston carried with him proudly, and with a deep breath and a moment of mental silence, he shook free from the voyeuristic draw and walked to the main living space where he sat at a small card table and considered again the strategy for the day.
What a waste it would be if he got sloppy now. What a squandering of his time and effort if he were to let greed and curiosity lead him on this special day, revealing himself to the hunters.
His time would come. He could feel it in his body as clearly as he could the sickness that had driven him here in the first place.
Besides, he had no time for rubbernecking; it was his life he was concerned with now, and there was still a lot for which to prepare.
The sin.
Winston had gone through his memory bank dozens of times since Zander’s last visit, perhaps hundreds, attempting to find that most precious of treasures, that darkest of secrets that lay hidden beneath the thick floors of his psyche, stories upon stories which had been constructed over the past eighty years in an attempt to protect his fragile ego from harm.
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