At first glance, it appeared every other house along the street was darkened, but at closer inspection Rob noticed a pencil-thin line of weak light around each window where blind or curtain met the frame. Every home was lit on the inside, their way of warding off the darklings.
"They hate the light."
Sudden panic gripped Rob, and he picked up the pace across the asphalt. Stored heat from the previous day radiated from it. Juli was right behind him. The sound of their sneakers, though soft, sounded like drumbeats, the kind you hear in the jungle right before the cannibals strike and pierce their captives through with a spear.
When they finally reached the car Juli sighed loudly. "Looks like somebody enjoys our company."
She was standing on the passenger side, looking at the front tire. Rob looked at the driver's side tire. "This one's flat too. And the rear."
"Same here."
"All four sitting on the rims and only one spare. That won't get us very far."
"Not nearly far enough."
Rob looked across the car at Juli. "Any ideas?"
"Lots, but none that will put air back into these tires."
Rob went around to the rear of the car and popped the trunk. "I got a flashlight in here somewhere. One of those Maglites. Thing will cut a swath of light the size of a basketball court."
"I knew those middle-school years sitting on the bench would come in handy sometime," Juli said.
He rooted around in the trunk, moving blankets, boxes, and lawn chairs until his hand found what he was looking for. He turned it on and shone it at Juli's feet then down the street. The black road stretched out before them maybe fifty or sixty yards, then disappeared behind a curtain of darkness.
"Want to sit in the car and collect your thoughts?" Juli said.
"I'm still going after Jimmy," Rob said.
"That's why we're here. But since we're talking sports, a game plan wouldn't hurt."
"All right, a game plan it is then."
They both opened the car's doors at the same time, but just before they climbed in, the sound of women screaming originated in the woods and tore across the meadow.
Rob and Juli shut the doors simultaneously. Like inky water, darkness permeated the cabin of the car and carried with it the sounds of the darklings. Rob could see the whites of Juli's eyes all around her irises.
"I don't think that's the welcoming committee," she said.
For the first time in his life, Rob felt like the prey. Fear paralyzed him in his seat. A thought occurred to him that they might have time to make a dash for one of the houses and knock like crazy until some sleepy homeowner gave them safe harbor. But he couldn't move even if he wanted to. It was as if someone had sewn the seat of his pants to the car's upholstery.
The wails outside drew closer, not rapidly but at a steady pace. The darklings weren't running; they were stalking. The screams then spread right and left, encircling the car. The sound the darklings made was the stuff of nightmares, like a woman in full agony, and spread goose bumps over Rob's arms and neck.
Looking out the windows, side to side, Juli said, "The lights."
"What?"
"The headlights, turn them on. Turn every light on."
Rob flipped on the headlights, and both he and Juli gasped. Not fifty yards away a handful of darklings scattered like rats. The size of ten-year-old children, their thin, bony, naked frames covered with that taut earthworm skin moved quickly and with a fair amount of agility. Just before escaping the light, one of them turned its head and looked directly into the beam. Its black eyes glistened like polished obsidian.
The sight of the darklings so repelled Rob he almost shut off the lights.
"How about some high beams?" Juli said. She was pushed so far back in her seat that if the backrest wasn't there, she'd be in the rear of the car.
Rob turned the knob for the high beams, and the headlights got even brighter. Light spread a wider swath and pushed the darkness back farther. More darklings dispersed, their long, spindly legs scissoring against the black backdrop.
The screaming increased in volume as if the intrusion of light into their world of lightlessness was a severe insult to the darklings. It also inched closer. At the edges of the high beam's light, black eyes reflected back at Rob and Juli-so many it looked as though pairs were stacked on top of each other and just thrown together haphazardly. Upon closer inspection, it also appeared they moved in a subtle, rhythmic gyration of sorts, as one unit.
"I think we upset them," Rob said.
"You want to apologize?" Juli asked.
"Not really."
"Me neither."
Something hit the car, on the left side of the hood, with a loud thud. Then again, this time closer to the grille.
"I think we've just become target practice," Juli said.
Again, something thunked off the car, this time near the right headlight. Sweat beaded on Rob's forehead, and a metallic taste flooded his mouth. "Rocks," he said. "They're trying to bust out the headlights."
Juli slid down a little lower in the seat. "Let's hope there's no Nolan Ryan on the roster."
Now a stone hit the back window, leaving a nick the size of a dime. Then one clunked off the passenger side door. Then another, along the driver's side rear quarter panel. It appeared the stones they were hurling were no larger than golf balls, but even at that, enough of them, well placed, could do major damage ... like take out a headlight.
"Monkey see, monkey do," Juli said. "They're copycatting each other."
"A sign of intelligence," Rob said. He looked at his watch: four twenty. "Sun'll be up in about an hour."
"Even if their aim is terrible, the battery won't last that long. You have the keys?"
Rob lifted his rear out of the seat and dug into the pocket of his jeans. Retrieving his keychain, he found the car's key and jammed it into the ignition. As he turned the key, the engine sprang to life and the lights brightened a bit.
A stone struck the driver's side window level with Rob's face and left a crack ten inches long. Rob flinched and ducked, reflexively covering his face with his hands.
"The flashlight," Juli said. "Take 'em out along the sides."
A thought occurred to Rob, and he swore for not thinking of it sooner. He grabbed the Maglite and clicked it on. "In the back," he said, aiming the light's beam out the window and finding a darkling, who shielded its eyes and scurried away, "on the floor is a spotlight my wife got me last year for spotting deer. It should still be in the box."
Juli climbed over the seat and into the back of the car. In a situation like this, you could never have enough light. She found the box right where Rob said it would be. "Got it," she said, and returned to the front.
A popping crack sounded, and the right headlight went out. Some darkling had hit its mark. A round of screams erupted from the darkness. Rob swept the beam of the Maglite across the front of the car. "Anytime you can get that thing hooked up will be great."
But the box was being stubborn-one of those tapedup jobs meant to ruin a shoplifter's day. It didn't help any, either, that her fingers felt as nimble as Twinkies. Oddly, it reminded her of Christmas mornings with her grandmother. She would wrap presents so thoroughly and use so much tape you needed a chain saw and some small explosives to open the boxes. Ripping at the cardboard, Juli said, "They made the box panic proof. Says right on it, not to be opened under extreme duress."
Still sweeping the light, scattering darklings like cockroaches, Rob said, "It's almost four thirty. C'mon, sun. Hurry it up today."
Juli suddenly stopped groping at the box and its labyrinth of taped edges and did the one thing that came naturally to her: pray.
"What? What's wrong?" Rob's voice sounded panicked.
Deep in prayer, her hands resting quietly on the box, head bowed, she said nothing.
"What're you doing?"
"Praying."
Another stone hit the rear window, and another right after it clunked off the grill
e.
"You think you could find a better time for that?"
Juli looked up at him. "There's a better time than now?"
Calmly and methodically, she found the edges of the tape and dismantled the box. She removed the spotlight, plugged the cord into the cigarette lighter, and, while flipping the switch, said, "Light the darkness."
A beam the size of a car cut through the darkness, igniting a fury of screams and shrieks. Darklings fell and scurried, their bony bodies fighting each other for traction, lashing out and clawing for relief from the light.
"You man the spot," Rob said, "and I'll handle the flashlight here. Keep sweeping the perimeter."
"Aye, aye, skipper."
Out of nowhere, something big landed on the roof of the car.
Seven
OB LOOKED UP, THEN AT JULI. HER EYES WERE WIDE and white.
"I'm really hoping that was just a big rock," she said.
Something moved on the roof, first to the left then right. The metal of the roof popped under the weight. They both knew what it was: a darkling had charged the car and jumped on top. Then, as if to confirm what they knew, a gruesome scream punctured the roof and filled the cabin.
Both Rob and Juli looked at the car's gear stick between them then at each other.
"We're thinking alike," Juli said.
Putting his foot on the brake, Rob shifted the car into drive then stomped on the gas. The engine growled, and the car lurched forward on four flat tires. Rubber flapped loudly as it was shredded by the metal rims. The darkling above them wailed again and began pounding on the roof. Rob watched the speedometer. When it reached ten miles an hour he slammed on the brakes, but no darkling sailed through the air as expected.
Juli continued spraying the light of the spotter around the perimeter, warding off any more ambitious darklings.
They were almost out of town now.
The clock on the dash glowed four forty-three.
"C'mon," Rob said through clenched teeth. He shifted into reverse and hit the gas again. The engine revved, and the car bucked backward, rims grinding into the asphalt. Again, he punched the brake, and the car jolted to a stop.
The darkling hung on and howled in defiance.
"One more try," Rob said. "Keep that light moving."
By now, Juli had grabbed the flashlight too and was holding it in one hand and the spotter in the other, wielding them like two battle swords.
Rob threw the car into drive again, stepped on the gas, and yanked the steering wheel hard to the left. The car lunged forward and swung around in a tight circle. Darklings appeared and scattered in the arc of light the solo headlight was slicing through the darkness. Rob kept the wheel turned as the car accelerated in a circle. Centrifugal force pulled him away from the door. The rims cut into the road, making an awful grinding sound. The darklings screamed their disapproval.
But above them, the darkling on the roof remained.
"Hang on," Rob said, and hit the brake hard. The car stopped like it had hit a wall, and the darkling on the roof finally lost its grip, wailed wildly, and landed on the asphalt in front of them, rolling a couple times. It writhed on the ground for a moment, a tangle of bony arms and legs, then jumped to its feet and stumbled away.
"Keep the light on it," Rob hollered.
Juli trained the spotter on the darkling as it staggered off the road. When it reached the grass, it stopped and stood upright, its back to the car.
"Keep the light on it," Rob said again.
The darkling stood motionless, arms hanging loosely at its sides, breathing heavily, its rib cage expanding and contracting rapidly. It was maybe thirty feet away but close enough that Rob could see it was hairless from head to toe. Its arms and legs were disproportionately long, and it had no buttocks to speak of. The legs just began where the back ended.
The darkling turned its head slightly to the right, toward the eastern sky.
Rob followed its gaze and noticed the first line of soft light glowing above the treetops.
The darkling drew in a deep breath, contracted its thoracic muscles, and let out a terrible scream; it then bounded away out of the spotter's reach and disappeared into the darkness.
Within seconds, the area was void of darklings. At the first sign of dawn they'd vacated the town and went back to whatever dark cave they hid in during daylight hours. Rob slouched in the seat and tried to settle his breathing. He could feel his heart in his throat. Next to him, Juli continued scanning the perimeter with the spotlight, back and forth in wide sweeps. No darklings were to be found, though. The town of Darlington was once again quiet and still.
Several thoughts skipped through Rob's mind. One, he hadn't seen Jimmy among the darklings. But that didn't mean his son wasn't there, and it didn't mean he wasn't in Darlington. It just meant Rob hadn't seen him. Two, all that screaming and wailing and the racket the car made cutting up the asphalt had to awaken the whole town, yet no one had come to their aid. The darklings instilled such fear in the townsfolk that they'd rather let two of their own fall into those bony hands (Rob didn't even want to think about what that would entail) than take on the little devils as a town. Fear could be a powerful thing. And three, he couldn't stop thinking how easily Juli had fallen into prayer in the midst of such pressure. There was a time, he supposed, when he would have considered prayer, but not anymore. He'd given God a chance with Kelly and Jimmy, and it just didn't work out. If Juli wanted to pray, that was fine with him. But leave him out of it.
With each passing minute the sky above the trees became lighter, showing off an array of colors from deep pink to burnt orange to auburn. Rob slowly drove the car to the church's gravel parking lot, put it in park, and shut off the engine. The outside world was silent save for the arrhythmic ticking of cooling metal.
Juli clicked off the spotlight and ran her finger along the inside of the windshield where a rock had gouged the glass. "Good luck explaining this to your insurance company."
Rob laughed. It felt good to release some of the tension. "I have great comprehensive."
"You think they'll buy that an angry horde of little green men attacked your car with rocks?"
"I could just tell them it was hail."
Juli shook her head. "They'd definitely get you for fraud. Stick to the truth; it might just be more believable."
They sat in silence for a moment, each looking straight ahead, watching the sky turn from a shade of muted red to soft blue. Morning was upon them. In the homes around them, one by one, shades were raised and curious faces peeked out of closed windows.
Juli, who'd still been holding the spotlight on her lap, placed it on the floor of the car. "Did you see him?"
"No. But that doesn't mean he isn't here. He is. I know it. I can feel him."
"Feel him how?"
Rob opened his mouth to speak then shut it. Explaining how he could feel Jimmy's presence wasn't an easy thing to do. He paused then tried again. "Are you a mother?"
"Not yet. But I have high hopes of someday being one. I like the sound of it. And I hear the perks are great."
"There's a bond that forms between a parent and child, something ... mystical or metaphysical. Maybe even spiritual. You feel what they feel, see what they see, all in a figurative way, of course." He paused again. "This place. This town. Even this church, all feel so familiar to me. It has to be because Jimmy is here and in a literal way I'm feeling what he feels and seeing what he sees. At times, I swear I can even hear him. I know that sounds crazy. But I did see him last night."
Juli looked out the window and remained there with her head turned away from Rob for so long he thought she had checked out. Finally she said, "What's your wife think of you turning all new-age starry-eyed?"
The mention of "your wife" sent a wave of remorse through Rob's body. What would Kelly think of his obsession with finding Jimmy? Would she encourage it or tell him what everyone else told him, that Jimmy was gone and he needed to deal with his grief in a healthy way and
move on? He'd convinced himself that she wouldn't want him to stop looking for their little boy, but now he wasn't so sure. Verbalizing his beliefs to Juli made him sound like a front-runner for Screwball of the Year. But screwball or not, he knew what he knew, and he wasn't leaving this town without his son.
"Kelly's dead," he said to Juli.
Juli turned to face him, and there were tears in her eyes. "Dead but not gone. How did it happen?"
"Some other time." He opened the door and got out. Leaning down to see in the car, he said, "Right now I have to find my son."
The boy has no idea how long he has been in the attic. He does know, however, that it has gotten so hot he thinks he might faint. He sweats until his sweat leaves salt on his lips. A couple times he dozed off, only to wake up crying from the pain in his shoulders. With his arms pulled behind his back like they are, his shoulders ache like two toothaches.
He had one toothache a year ago. It made his whole mouth hurt all the way up to his eyes. Dr. Stein said a cavity the size of the Grand Canyon was to blame and that if they'd waited any longer to get it filled, he would have had to pull the tooth. That didn't sound like a good idea to the boy. Even when his teeth were loose he didn't like having them pulled. He usually just let them fall out on their own. Once he let Daddy pull a tooth. Daddy was so fast the boy didn't even know he'd pulled it until Daddy held it up and laughed.
Thinking about his daddy brings the tears again. Now he's sure he'll never see his parents again.
Footsteps on the stairs stop his crying. The boy holds still and listens. It sounds like the way the woman comes up the steps, kind of an odd rhythm: one-two, one-two, one-two. If his hands were untied he could clap to the rhythm like they did in music class at school. Will he ever go to school again? Will he ever see his friends again?
The footsteps make it to the top of the stairs and wind around the attic toward him, creaking boards along the way.
"Brought you some more water." It's the woman.
He opens his mouth, more than ready for water, even if it is warm like before. His mouth is so dry the inside of his cheeks feel like sandpaper, and his tongue feels like a never-used sponge. The woman pours warm water down his throat again. And just like last time, he swallows in huge gulps, spilling some down his chin. His mommy would have told him to slow down and take smaller sips, but she didn't know how thirsty he was.
Darlington Woods Page 8
