Highway to Hell

by Val Crowe

  I reached across the table for her hand. “You did what you thought you had to. But I’m just glad I still have you.”

  She squeezed my hand, eyes filling with tears. “Oh, kiddo, I love you.”

  I gave her a lopsided smile. “You going to eat those fries?”

  She laughed and pushed the plate across the table to me. “Have at it.”

  * * *

  “Wait, wait, go back to the part where you had the ax,” said Wade over the phone.

  I was outside the Airstream, talking on the phone with him. I’d been out there for a while, explaining everything that had happened in the amusement park. He was finding the story more entertaining than I thought he would.

  “Look, nothing happened with the ax,” I said. “I didn’t actually ax anyone.”

  “Yeah, but you were about to,” he said. “And then, did you really torch your mother’s motorhome?”

  “Yes, I had to. It was the only way,” I said.

  “Man, I really should have come down there and seen all this. It sounds positively insane,” he said.

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so. Pretty crazy.”

  “And now, what? There’s nothing there?” he said. “The whole park has no more energy?”

  “Well, it seems that way,” I said. Mads had said so. She said that everything was gone from the place. And it did seem different there. It seemed… dead. “When we went out to show the guy with the tow truck where the motorhome was, we went by, and it seemed subdued. But I wasn’t taking any chances. I didn’t go back out there and explore or anything. Maybe there’s something left, and I can’t afford to go crazy anymore.”

  “That’s smart, man,” he said. “Better to leave it be.”

  “Definitely,” I said. “So, how are things going with you?”

  “Charlotte’s engaged,” he said.

  “What?” I almost dropped the phone. Charlotte had been really adamant about not wanting to be tied down.

  “Yeah, totally weird,” he said. “She just met the guy, and she’s got this big rock on her finger and everything. She’s still in college. It all seems premature to me. I’m trying not to take it personally. Like she didn’t just get into a committed relationship to keep me away.”

  “You haven’t been stalking Charlotte, have you?”

  “What? No. Would I do that?”

  I laughed. “I don’t know. Would you?”

  “You’re probably still in mourning for Olivia, I guess.”

  Hell, I hadn’t given Olivia a thought in ages. Funny. I thought she was the love of my life. Unrequited love cut short by her death and tragedy and all that… And now, it was like she hadn’t existed. What the hell was wrong with me?

  “Sorry,” he said quietly. “I don’t mean to bring her up. I don’t know why I—”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I do miss her.”

  “Me too,” he said.

  I squared my shoulders. “Uh, what about Rylan? You seen her lately?”

  “Yeah, a couple times at the coffee shop when she’s working,” he said. “She says she’s working on a big shoot for her youtube channel. Says it’s going to be a series of videos. It’s, like, a haunted campground or something? I don’t know. She thinks it’ll be the video to take her to the big time.”

  I laughed. “If you see her again, tell her good luck from me.”

  “Sure, sure,” said Wade. “You could tell her yourself. You could swing back this way and visit again. I wouldn’t mind seeing you.”

  “Nah, not yet,” I said. “I didn’t end up finding anything out about Negus. It was all a big trick from the park. So, I still have to find some answers. Negus is still out there, and he’s still looking for me. I don’t know why, and I don’t know who he is or what he wants.”

  “Right,” said Wade. “Good luck with that.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  * * *

  “Here,” said my mother, her voice triumphant. She was sitting at the table in the Airstream, and she’d borrowed my laptop about a half hour ago, only to type and scroll furiously on it while ignoring me.

  I was lounging on my bed. We were going to have to talk about what our next move was, me and my mom. I was glad that she wasn’t dead and all, and I wanted her in my life, but this Airstream was not big enough for the both of us. I had a cot that I could set up over top of the table for her to sleep on, so it was okay for now, but it would get old fast, both of us on top of each other.

  Of course, she’d lost all her worldly possessions in that motorhome, and she had to start over from practically zero. She had money, of course, in the bank, and maybe it wasn’t all of her worldly possessions, considering she kept several storage units in various places around the country. It wasn’t going to be a picnic for her, but she was going to be able to pick herself back up. I’d help her, of course. We were family.

  Still, we should talk about how that was going to happen at some point. I just wasn’t really sure how to bring it up.

  “What?” I said.

  “Come here,” she said. “Look at this.”

  I got up and went over to the table. I slid in next to her and she jammed a finger against the screen.

  There was a picture of a girl there. It was her Facebook profile. Dominique Carlson. She was five years younger than me or so, a pretty girl with blond hair and brown eyes.

  “That’s her,” said my mother.

  “That’s who?” I said.

  “When I was possessed by that thing, it found pictures of this girl. It had an email address, and it would make me log in and look at them. It took me a while to remember her name, but I kept thinking about it, and eventually I did. I knew if I saw a picture of her, I’d know. This is her.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Wait a second, Negus looked at pictures of this girl?”

  “Yeah, she was only four or five back then, but I recognize her. The thing inside me would stare at her for a long, long time. Just pull up picture after picture. And look at them over and over again.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I don’t know,” she said. “But I know you wanted information about that thing, and that was why you went so crazy back in the park. So, I thought if you track this girl down, maybe that could help you.”

  “Yeah,” I said softly. “Yeah, maybe.” I turned to her. “Thanks, Mom. This is really good.”

  She smiled. “Not a problem. Also, your uncle is looking to sell a Fleetwood, so if you could take me up to Woodstock, I’d be grateful.”

  “Wait, Uncle Bill?” I said. “I didn’t think you spoke to him anymore.” There had been some kind of family rift back when I was like twelve or so. I had no idea what that had been about, but I hadn’t seen him since.

  “Well, he’s going to give me a good deal,” she said. “And after what happened, I’m starting to feel my mortality. Maybe I should tie up any loose ends in my life in case I die tomorrow, you know?”

  I nodded slowly.

  She put an arm around me. “Oh, kiddo, I would stay with you forever, I really would, but this Airstream just isn’t big enough for the two of us.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at that.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  “Do you know anything about the girl?” I said to Mads. My mother was asleep inside the Airstream. I was outside. It was late, sometime after midnight. No one was watching. I finally had privacy to talk to Mads. Tomorrow, we’d be driving to upstate New York so that she could buy herself a new motorhome from my uncle. I was probably going to be exhausted if I didn’t get to bed soon.

  “I don’t know anything,” said Mads.

  “But what could it mean?” I said. “Why would he be interested in this girl?”

  She spread her hands. “It could mean anything. It’s very strange.”

  I sighed. “I guess I’ll have to try to figure it out.”

  “Just be careful, Deacon,” said Mads. “The closer you get to Negus, the more danger you’re in.”

 
I laughed a little. “It seems like I’m in danger every time I turn around lately.”

  She inclined her head. “This is true. You’ve been scaring me to death these past few weeks.”

  “To death?” I grinned at her.

  She laughed. “You know what I mean.”

  I eyed her. “You know, I really missed you. It was not cool, your being stuck outside like that.”

  “It made me crazy,” she said.

  “Well, I would like it if that didn’t happen again,” I said.

  “You have to know that if something is powerful enough to block me like that, it’s probably bad news.”

  “Noted,” I said. “I was so intent on finding out information about Negus, I got ahead of myself. I wasn’t careful.”

  “Well, they tricked you,” she said.

  “I’ll be on my guard next time. Fool me once, right?”

  “Right,” she said.

  I looked away, jamming my hands into my pockets. The sky was just as dark and star-studded as it had been the night before. I gazed up at it and tried to figure out how to say what it was that I really wanted to say to her. “The thing with the Tunnel of Love? It was the real you, wasn’t it? They didn’t trick me then?”

  She didn’t say anything.

  I looked up at her.

  She wouldn’t meet my gaze, looking shy. “Let’s not bring that up again.”

  “It was real.”

  “No, it was a trick,” she said. “We can’t really touch.”

  “But you felt it, and I felt it. So, it was as good as real.”

  “Deacon…” She gave me a helpless look. “You shouldn’t think of me that way.”

  “What way?”

  “Like a…” She twisted her hands together. “I’ve been wearing more clothes. You haven’t noticed.”

  I realized she was in a pair of baggy jeans and a turtleneck. “Hey.” I reached out for her out of instinct, even though I knew I couldn’t touch her.

  She shied away from my hand, so we were spared watching my fingers go right through her.

  I put my hand back in my pocket. “You wear whatever you want,” and my voice seemed to have gotten ridiculously deep.

  She shook her head. “It’s not a game anymore. It’s only making us both disappointed. Frustrated. Sad. So, we need to let it all go. I’m nothing to you, Deacon, do you get that? I’m nothing at all.”

  “Mads, that’s not true,” I said.

  But she was gone, flickered off without even saying goodbye.

  I glowered up at the stars.

  * * *

  When I came back into the Airstream, my mother was sitting up on her cot. “Can’t you sleep?”

  “No,” I said. It was easier to say that than to try to explain anything else.

  “Want me to sing to you?” she said, smiling. “I always used to, when you were little. Then you got too old. I’d try to sing to you and you’d tell me to stop.”

  I looked down at my shoes. “It wasn’t because I was too old. It was because…” Because I felt like all the good things she used to do—singing to me and reading to me and telling me loved me—weren’t real anymore.

  “Because of Negus,” she said.

  I bobbed my head. “Yeah.”

  “I’m so sorry, kiddo,” she said.

  “I know,” I said. “And it’s all over now. You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

  “Yes, I do,” she said.

  I sighed, shaking my head.

  “Do you want me to sing to you?”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “You know, that might be nice.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Go get ready for bed, then. I’ll tuck you in.”

  I laughed softly. “All right, Mom.”

  “I mean it,” she said.

  And I did what she said. I ducked into the bathroom and put on my pajamas and brushed my teeth, and then I climbed into bed.

  She pulled the covers up over me.

  I rolled over onto my side. I closed my eyes.

  “Sleep tight, Deacon,” she whispered, rubbing my back. She started to sing, and her voice was sweet and clear.

  I felt myself drift.

  There was only the warm dark, and the sound of her voice, and sleep.

  * * *

  More Deacon?

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  Thanks so much for reading!!!