In one terrarium the class always put the worm food in the same corner, under a little light that they switched on at feeding time. The light was like a restaurant sign: Come In, We’re Open.
In the other terrarium the class just sprinkled the food randomly on top of the dirt.
The flatworms in the first terrarium weren’t stupid. Pretty soon they figured out what the light meant. You could point a flashlight at any side of that terrarium, and the worms would come looking for food. They would even follow the light around in circles, if worm racing was what you were into.
Then, as it did in every biology class, the time came for the gross part.
Using the flashlight as bait, the class collected all the clever light-loving worms from the first terrarium. Then the teacher, Mrs. Hardaway, put them into a bowl and squished them into worm paste. Nobody was forced to watch, but a few kids did. Not Jessica.
In case that wasn’t gross enough, Mrs. Hardaway then fed the squished worms to the other worms. Apparently flatworms would eat anything, even other worms.
The next day the class gathered around, and for the first time ever Mrs. Hardaway moved the little restaurant light to the second terrarium. She let Jessica herself switch on the light. One by one the worms popped their little flat heads up, hungry for food. They had learned about the restaurant light by eating the worms from the other terrarium, like learning French by eating french fries, except infinitely grosser.
Tonight, sitting on her bed, waiting for midnight, surrounded by unpacked boxes, Jessica Day had the aftertaste of midnighter in her mouth.
Rex and Dess had kept her at the museum for hours, cramming her brain with everything they knew about the darklings, the blue time, midnighters and their talents, and the secret history of Bixby, Oklahoma. They’d ground up years of incredible experiences and unbelievable discoveries and served them all as one gigantic meal. And of course Jessica had no choice but to eat every bite. The secret hour was dangerous. What she didn’t know could really hurt her.
In the end, even Melissa had taken off her headphones to join in, explaining her own weird talent. It turned out that she, not Dess, was the psychic—a real psychic, not the psychosomatic kind—but in a way that sounded completely awful. She’d described it as being in a room with fifty radios blasting, all tuned to different stations. And Rex had warned Jessica not to touch her; physical contact turned the volume up way too high.
No wonder Melissa was so much fun to be around.
As Jessica watched the clock’s second hand slowly sweep out the remaining minutes, she rested one hand on her churning stomach. She had the feeling she always got before a test. This was quite a test. It included math, mythology, metallurgy, science, and ancient history. And getting a single question wrong could mean becoming worm food herself.
The day had probably been a lot more fun for Rex, Dess, and Melissa. For years the three of them had kept an entire world secret. They’d had to face the terrors and joys of midnight alone. So of course they’d been anxious to share them with someone new.
Jessica just wished she could remember more of what they’d said. After the first hour or three her sleepless night had started to take its toll, their voices turning into competing drones. Finally she’d told them she was going home.
It was amazing how quickly a new and mysterious world could go from totally unbelievable to completely unbearable.
She’d gotten back home just in time for dinner. Jessica could tell that Mom had been all ready to yell at her about the still unpacked boxes. But one look at Jessica’s exhausted face and her mother had instantly switched gears.
“Oh, sweetheart. You’ve been doing homework all day, haven’t you? This is my fault for putting you in all those advanced classes, isn’t it?”
Jessica hadn’t bothered to disagree. She’d half dozed through dinner and then gone straight to sleep. But she’d set her alarm for eleven-thirty. Tonight she wanted to be completely awake and dressed when the blue time came.
Although she couldn’t remember half of what the other midnighters had tried to teach her, she hadn’t forgotten the important stuff. Jessica was armed with three new weapons: Deliciousness, Fossilization, and Jurisprudence, which were a coil of wire, a long screw, and a broken car-radio antenna. They weren’t much to look at, and Dess had said that none was as formidable as the mighty Hypochondriac, but she had guaranteed they would light a fire under a darkling’s tail. Or at least a sparky blue fireworks show. Jessica had also borrowed a few recipes of Dess’s to create her own traps. Her bedroom was slitherproof now.
In addition, there was no way she was going outside tonight.
The other three midnighters were headed for what Rex had called a “lore site.” Apparently there had been midnighters in Bixby for as long as there had been a secret hour, some born here and some, like Jessica, who’d stumbled into town. Generations of seers like Rex had slowly collected knowledge about the blue time and the darklings and recorded their discoveries where only other seers could find them. Out in the unchanging badlands huge, ancient rocks were marked with invisible runes that told the ancient stories.
Rex said that he would search until he discovered why the darklings were so interested in Jessica. “But maybe last night was a coincidence,” he’d said unconvincingly.
“Maybe they just like you,” Melissa had said, smacking her lips. “As in, ‘I like pizza.’”
Two minutes to go.
Jessica swallowed and lifted her feet off the floor. The slithers couldn’t possibly be here yet, but last night had brought all her childhood fears back to her. There were things under the bed. Maybe at the moment they were psychosomatic things, but she could still feel them down there.
She looked at her clock, which was set to Bixby time now. Dess had explained that “real midnight” happened at a different moment in every city. Time zones just kind of faked it. But now when her clock hit twelve, Jessica Day would be as far away from the sun as you could get.
One minute to go.
Jessica picked up Jurisprudence and pulled it out to its full length. She swished it through the air like a sword. The radio antenna was from a Chevy made in 1976, a year that apparently was a multiple of thirteen. Dess had been saving it for something special.
Jessica smiled. It was the oddest gift she’d ever gotten, but she had to admit it felt good in her hand.
The secret hour arrived.
The overhead light seemed to wink out, replaced by the familiar blue glow from every corner of the room. The sound of wind among the trees ceased abruptly. Her first time completely awake for the change, Jessica could feel as well as see and hear it. Something invisible seemed to pull at her, tugging her forward, as if she were finishing a roller-coaster ride, the car gradually coming to a halt. A sense of lightness came over her, and she felt a subtle flutter of arrested motion throughout her body.
The tingle of the whole world, stopping around her.
“Okay,” Jessica said to herself. “Here we go again.”
However real she knew it was, the blue time still seemed like a dream.
She walked around her room, touching things to reassure herself. The rough edges of cardboard boxes felt the same, the pinewood boards of the floor were as smooth and cool as always.
“Real, real, and real,” she affirmed quietly as her fingers brushed clothing, desk, the spines of books.
Now that midnight was here, Jessica found herself wondering what she was going to do with this extra hour. A few minutes ago she had heard her parents talking in the kitchen. But she didn’t want to see them pale and frozen; she was staying in her own room.
There was plenty of unpacking to do. She opened a few of the boxes and looked into their chaotic depths. But the blue, shadowless light seemed too alien for anything so mundane. She sat on her bed, picked up the dictionary she’d unpacked when she got home, and opened it to look for tridecalogisms.
She’d found only one—splendiferous—when her head started to
hurt from the light. The other midnighters could probably read in the blue time just fine. Maybe Melissa was right; Jessica’s eyes did feel wrong, at least here in the secret hour.
She glanced out the window at the motionless world but shivered and looked away. The thought of something looking back in at her was too frightening.
She picked her feet up off the floor, lay back, and stared at the ceiling.
Jessica sighed. This could get very boring.
Not much later, she heard the noise.
It was a very soft thud, barely audible even in the absolute silence. Jessica immediately thought of panther paws and jumped off her bed.
She picked up Jurisprudence and jingled Fossilization and Deliciousness to check that they were still in her pocket. From the end of the bed Jessica couldn’t see very much of the street, but she was too scared to get any closer to the windows. She maneuvered around her bedroom, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever was outside.
A dark shape moved on the front walk. Jessica backed out of its view and gripped the car antenna tighter. Rex and Dess had promised she would be safe here. They had said she knew enough to defend herself.
What if they were wrong?
Her back was pressed against the door now. She imagined the great cat squeezing through the front door and down the halls of the house, stealing up behind her. It seemed incredibly unlikely that the thirteen thumbtacks stuck into the wood of her door would be a match for its powerful muscles.
No more sound came from outside. Was whatever it was still out there?
She had to take a look.
Jessica sank to her hands and knees and crept along the floor against the wall until she was just below the window. She sat there, listening as hard as she could. The total silence seemed to roar quietly, like the sound of the ocean trapped in a shell.
She inched her head up to peer over the windowsill.
A face looked back at her.
Jessica jumped away, swinging Jurisprudence in an arc before her so that it cracked against the glass. She scrambled backward until she bumped against her bed. The window began to slide open.
“It’s okay, Jessica. It’s just me,” a voice called through the gap.
Her car-radio antenna thrust out before her like a sword, Jessica blinked, forcing her brain to put together the familiar voice and the face she had glimpsed. After a few seconds of fear, recognition came, along with a wave of relief and surprise.
It was Jonathan.
Jonathan perched at the window, evidently a bit reluctant to come inside. He seemed to think that Jessica was going to take another swing at him. Jurisprudence was still in her grip, passed nervously from hand to hand.
Jonathan sat with one leg folded under him, his other knee drawn up under his chin. He certainly didn’t seem very scary now.
He hadn’t said much since arriving at the window. He seemed to be waiting for her to calm down. Unlike in the lunchroom at school, Jonathan’s eyes were open wide. He didn’t look sleepy at all. Maybe he was photophobic in the daylight too.
She was glad he didn’t hide his eyes behind dark glasses, though. They were very pretty eyes.
He watched as Jessica slowly gained control of her breathing, his gaze intent but silent.
“I didn’t know you were a midnighter,” she finally managed.
“They didn’t tell you?” He laughed. “That figures.”
“They know about you?”
“Sure. Since the day I moved here.”
Jessica shook her head in disbelief. Six hours of midnighter lore and neither Rex, Dess, nor Melissa had bothered to mention the fifth midnighter in town.
“Wait a second,” Jess said as something occurred to her. “Are you the only one they didn’t tell me about? How many of you are there?”
Jonathan grinned. “Just one of me,” he said.
She stared back at him, still too overwhelmed to make sense of anything.
“No, there aren’t any others,” he said, more seriously. “I’m the only person they didn’t mention.”
“What, don’t they like you?”
He shrugged. “I’m not in the club, you know? I mean, Rex is okay, I guess, and Dess is actually pretty cool.” He paused, obviously not wanting to get started on Melissa. “But they take the whole thing way too seriously.”
“Too seriously?”
“Yeah. They act like they’re on a mission from the Midnighters World Council or something.”
“There’s a Midnighters World Council?” Jessica asked.
He laughed. “No, but I bet Rex wishes there was. He thinks this whole midnight thing has some deep and mysterious meaning.”
Jessica blinked. It had never occurred to her to doubt that there were deep and mysterious forces at work. It all seemed pretty deep and mysterious to her.
“So what do you think, Jonathan?”
“I think we’re lucky to have a whole world to ourselves. To play in, explore, do whatever we want. Why mess it up with some big purpose?”
Jessica nodded. Since the darkling had attacked her, the secret hour had become a crisis, a deadly challenge. But that first, beautiful dream had been something else entirely. Something…easy.
“For Rex,” Jonathan continued, “the blue time is like some big textbook, and he’s always studying for the final exam. For me, it’s recess.”
She gave him a sour look. “There are some pretty big bullies on the playground.”
He shrugged. “I’m faster than the bullies. Always have been.”
Jessica wondered how that could be true. But Jonathan seemed perfectly at ease. He dangled his foot outside the window, never checking over his shoulder, unafraid.
“You guys all seem to enjoy the secret hour,” she said sadly. “You all think it’s exciting, for one reason or another. For me, it’s just been a nightmare. This thing—these things—tried to kill me last night.”
“That’s what Dess told me.”
“She told you about me?”
“Yeah, back when Rex first spotted you. And this morning she gave me your address. What, did you think I used superpowers to find you?”
“The phone book, actually.”
He smiled. “You’re not in information yet. I checked. But Melissa got the psychic 411 on you last night, so Dess called me.”
“Dess gave you my address, but she didn’t tell me about you?”
“She would have, but not in front of Rex. He and I have this…personality conflict. Namely, I think he should get a new one. But Dess prefers to stay out of it.”
“Oh.” Jessica leaned back against the wall. “This gets more complicated every minute.”
“Yeah, it’s awful that you ran into a darkling so soon,” Jonathan said. “But last night was weird all over town. It was probably just darkling New Year’s Eve or something. Was that your first time out?”
She started to nod, then shook her head. She’d almost forgotten the first night. With Rex and Dess cramming her head with midnighter lore and history all day, she’d only thought about the dangers of the blue time, not the splendor of the frozen storm.
“It must be nice,” she said quietly, “being happy to be a midnighter.”
“Quit calling me that,” he softly chided. “I’m not a ‘midnighter.’ That’s Rex’s word.”
Jessica frowned. “It seems pretty appropriate to me. Kind of makes the point and sounds better than ‘twelve o’clocker.’”
“I guess it does,” Jonathan admitted with a smile. “And I do like the word midnight. Since I moved to Bixby, anyway.”
Jessica took a breath and dared to look past him to the blue-lit street. Even before the secret hour had come, it had been a beautiful night, gusty and dramatic. She could see falling autumn leaves trailing from the giant oak trees like flocks of dark and frozen birds. Their brilliant reds and yellows had turned black in the blue light.
She remembered the raindrops that first night, how her fingertips had released them from midnight’s hold.
Would the leaves also fall at her touch? She wanted to run through them, knocking handfuls out of the air. Back in Chicago she had never been able to resist snapping off icicles, breaking winter’s spell.
But among the black leaves Jessica could still imagine the darkling that had attacked her. Its cruel form might be lurking anywhere among the frozen shapes outside. She shuddered and turned away from the window.
Her bedroom still seemed alien. It looked wan in the blue light, like a fading memory. Motionless dust hung in the air.
“Midnight is beautiful,” she said. “But cold, too.”
Jonathan frowned. “It never feels cold to me. Or hot, either. It’s more like a perfect summer night.”
Jessica shook her head. “I didn’t mean that kind of cold.”
“Oh, I see,” Jonathan said. “Yeah. It feels kind of empty sometimes. Like we’re the last people on earth.”
“Thanks. That makes me feel much better.”
“You shouldn’t be scared of midnight, Jessica.”
“I’m only scared of being eaten.”
“That was just bad luck.”
“But Rex said—”
“Don’t worry about what Rex says,” Jonathan interrupted. “He’s way too paranoid. He thinks no one should explore the blue time until they know all ten thousand years of midnighter lore. That’s like reading a whole VCR manual just to watch a movie. Which I’ve seen Rex actually do, by the way.”
“You should’ve seen the darkling that attacked me,” Jessica said.
“I’ve seen darklings. Lots of them.”
“But—”
Jonathan disappeared from the window, and Jessica’s breath caught short. He had slipped out of sight so quickly, so gracefully, rolling backward like a scuba diver off a boat. A moment later his head and shoulders reappeared.
He extended his hand through the window. “Come on. Let me unscare you.”
Jessica hesitated. She looked at the row of thirteen thumbtacks that Dess had told her to line up under the window. As Jessica had stuck them into the window frames and door of her bedroom, she’d felt incredibly stupid. Thumbtacks were supposed to protect her from the forces of evil?
Scott Westerfeld Page 10
