Ben did everything but grin. Seth could see the look in the tiger’s eyes as if saying, ‘Don’t reprimand me, Seth. Accept this, and you will grow in strength.’
All I can say is a long time. You must prepare. And leave soon. Ben stepped away, and turned, looking at the mountains as Seth had done countless times before.
“But wait!” Seth said, suddenly angry for feeling an onslaught of tears. His eyes watered. He was crying. “You just got here. Do we have to go over all this again? Can’t we just play in the meadow for a while? Do you always have to run off? Can’t we just stop and not think about it for once?”
Maybe another time, Seth. Time grows short. There will be plenty of time to play later. Our enemy does not weaken. He grows powerful, and he is beginning to see. He feels an edge to his victory because of the deaths he has accrued. Ellishome already begins to turn. The dead are restless. He smiles at them in their agony.
Seth hated himself because of his tears. It made him feel timid, yet he felt a weakness coming through again.
“But can’t we—”
Prove him wrong, Seth. Banish his evil. Make him suffer. Prove to him and to yourself how sagacious and strong you are. Make him wail in his own dark agony. Be strong above anything. You have stout hearts beside you, and they are willing to give their lives for you. And remember, this is painful for all of us, for me as well. Don’t make it harder, Seth Auburn. You’ll see. In the end, you will be rewarded in ways you never thought possible. You will have more than a simple life as a boy, and if that is all you want, then that, my friend, is what I shall give you.
Seth tried to hold back the tears. He had to. For Ben’s sake. The summer had come to an abrupt and restless end. But, yes, he understood. He did have to be strong. It didn’t help pouting, but he wanted another second with Ben, a magical, pure moment aside from all the gloom.
When he accepted it, Seth discovered a moment of peace. He would do it. If they survived, he would have all the time in the world with Ben, and that was something to look forward to, wasn’t it?
Had he naively thought their journey would take no more than a day? Ben’s words sank into his gut. The seriousness of their plight began to unfold.
Somewhat saddened, Seth tried not to let it show and strengthened his heart against the future.
Or was it months?
Ben seemed to read his mind. Good boy. Get your companions with you.
“How will I know?” Seth asked, not realizing what he meant.
Do you know what faith is?
Seth shook his head.
You will. Faith is your ally. Faith is your most daunting weapon.
Seth nodded.
“When will I see you again?” Seth asked. Emotion scratched his throat. For some reason, he thought he would never see Ben again.
You’ll see me. I’m always with you, Seth. I’ve never been away. Nor will I ever, completely, be far from you.
Seth smiled, wrapping his arms around Ben’s neck, and hugged him fiercely. “I love you,” Seth said, and strangely, could not restrain the flood of tears. He had not expected to feel the way he did about Ben, but it did not surprise him, either.
In his mind, Ben chuckled warmly.
Remember, you have enough. You are exactly what Malcolm said you are. There is no change, and it’s important you remember that. Change is inevitable. But you can choose what you change into. I’ve been at war, Seth, with my enemy for centuries. Longer, in fact. But you have given me hope. Remember that as well. Without you, I could not do this.
Seth nodded, wiping his eyes.
I have looked for you, never knowing what you looked like, never knowing if you were real. This is my chance, our chance to end this eternal nightmare once and for all. Be strong. Know that I am with you.
Ben licked the side of his face, and Seth hugged the tiger again. Then, the animal pulled away, turned, and trotted back into the high grass.
Ben stopped between the mountain brome, looked back one last time, and studied Seth. The tiger nodded a single time. In the next second, Ben trotted off, disappearing into the meadow.
Left alone—the sound of the wind against his ears—Seth looked to where Ben had disappeared, trying to discern his form in the high grass. He saw a quick flash of black and orange, then Ben was gone.
Resolution welled inside him. Seth knew what he had to do. For Ben. For his friends, Ellishome, and everything else that was at stake.
He looked toward the ominous, towering crags along the horizon. They did seem threatening, as if deliberately trying to keep him at bay. The tug pushing him into the meadow pushed him in the opposite direction now.
My enemy, Ben had said.
Even now, the influence of evil tried to thwart his mission.
He heard the voice of his friends, a sudden chill in the air:
If it gets cold. Run. If it gets cold, get out of there.
They had to leave soon.
Worlds? he thought.
Clouds moved over the sun.
Whose world is that? he wondered, looking toward the mountains.
Seth turned and walked back into the backyard.
He’d already made his choice.
iii
When Rudy McCall walked through the door later that day, Austin felt as if he hadn’t seen the boy in ages, as if he were—in some strange way—meeting his son for the very first time. His heart thudded in his chest.
He owed a lot. But where to start? Was he going to justify his indifference, telling Rudy what had happened to his mother hadn’t been Austin’s fault? He had to start somewhere, even if it was wrong. He had to bring back something good back into this family.
Hearing the front door close, Austin met Rudy in the living room. His son wore a black T-shirt and jeans, a lost look of wonder in his eyes.
What was the boy thinking? Did Rudy despise him? Did Rudy blame him as Austin was blaming himself?
“Hi, Dad,” Rudy said, devoid of emotion, and looked at the floor.
“Rudy,” Austin said, testing the way it sounded, foreign almost, as if he hadn’t said it in over a decade.
His son looked haunted.
“Rudy, before you go to your room…please…I just want you to know…how sorry…Sorry about all this, that I haven’t been there. Your mother…” Austin didn’t know what affect these words would have, if any, but he didn’t know where else to begin. He just wanted his son back. He wanted his family back. He’d prepared himself for Rudy turning his back on him, shunning whatever amends Austin was trying to make.
Screw you, Dad. But where was that attitude a month ago?
Austin stood still and waited for Rudy to lash into him.
Maybe it was the tears in Austin’s eyes, the pathetic, pleading look on his face.
“I know I haven’t handled Sadie…Sadie dying very well. I still…I just can’t believe he’s gone. God. And your mother…it’s been…I don’t know how to manage without her most of the time, Son. Everything. I just want you to know…I never meant to forget about you. I never meant any of that. I just…I just can’t believe what happened. I’m sorry, Rudy. I guess…if you can…I’m asking you to forgive me.”
Rudy stood mute.
The last thing Austin expected was the smile. Whatever doubts he had disappeared. Austin felt his old self again, but could see the son he knew—the one he’d played baseball with—emerge in the seconds that followed.
“It’s okay, Dad,” Rudy said. “Really. I was mad for a while. I was. I won’t lie to you. Mad at Mom, too. Still am, I guess. Slipping away the way she has. Mad at you for just…not caring, it seemed. I’ve been talking to Masie Auburn about a lot of things lately. She’s been a real good friend. She knew you’d come around, actually, even told me to give you some time.” Surprising Austin, Rudy laughed. “I guess she was right. I got all this crap set in my head about finding Sadie’s killer. I’ve been reading about murderers. And nothing seemed to be going on here, nothing productive, so I thought, ‘
To hell with it.’ I was going to do whatever it took to avenge him. Maybe I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t know. I guess a lot of it still hasn’t left me. Part of me still wants someone to pay. I can’t sit still until someone does. I don’t care about fate, or God, or if it might’ve been his time to go. To hell with all that. Nothing should’ve taken Sadie, Dad. Nothing. He didn’t deserve to die.”
Austin and Rudy stood facing each other in silence. Plenty of unfinished business hung in the air between them, things unsaid.
Rudy looked at his father. “But I forgive you, Dad.”
Austin closed his eyes. He had heard that. He had not imagined it. It moved over him like a cool mantle, magic words. Newfound strength returned to his frame. Austin smiled. “Thank you, Rudy,” he said. “Thank you. That means everything in the world coming from you, Son. Honest.”
They stood in awkward silence as the seconds passed.
“Where’s Mom?” Rudy asked.
“Upstairs sleeping. She’s losing a lot of weight. She…”
“You don’t have to say anything, Dad.”
Austin nodded.
“What are we gonna do?” Rudy asked.
Austin shrugged and took a deep breath. “I guess we’ll have to call someone, come and take a look at her…if she’ll let them. I thought about keeping her here, that maybe that would be for the best. But…if I don’t do all I can, we might never get your mother back. I…I don’t know if she’ll ever come back. I don’t think she wants to. I think…” Austin began to cry. “I think she’s happy where she is, Son.”
Rudy closed his eyes and nodded. “Dad?”
Austin looked up.
“It’s gonna be all right. It might not be the way it used to be, but it’s gonna be all right.”
Feeling the futility of this statement, Austin nodded.
Rudy stepped toward him—and in a strange and awkward moment Austin did not expect—wrapped his arms around his father. Austin embraced his son in return. It was alien, the embrace, or so it felt—but it was a long time coming. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d held onto his boy the way he was now.
It was in that moment, he let it all go: Mattie, Sadie, the pain, his estranged behavior. He let it all out in a torrent, and not caring how it looked, cried like a baby in the arms of his only son.
iv
All in vain, he thought.
Sheriff Bimsley was more flustered than ever. He received the same looks from everyone. Nothing he could say, nothing he did, seemed to matter. He’d interviewed everyone he could think of again, hoping for a shred of information.
Why haven’t you gotten this thing, Sheriff—he heard them say.
But he was coming up empty. He could only wait in breathless anticipation, hoping things turned out for the best. In one moment, he’d failed to do all he could. He—the one man who should’ve been in more control than any of them—was helpless.
The reason, however, for his despair, went deeper. He’d talked to people around town. “Have you seen anything strange, anyone or anything that made you suspicious, anyone you couldn’t recognize, had never seen before?” No one, not a single soul relayed any helpful information Frank could use, and he received the same reply every time, a silent shake of the head. “Sorry, Sheriff.” The reason bothered him, of course, because he’d been witnessing things. So, what was wrong with everybody else? Was he losing his mind? Were they lying to him? Was it all a big conspiracy? If Bimsley was losing his mind—the one man who could put all the pieces together—then what did that say about the fate of Ellishome?
Frank grew increasingly worried as the days passed. He was a nervous wreck. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and couldn’t stop thinking about the unnatural horrors plaguing this town.
He was cracking up.
He’d seen the brougham again just two days ago, and he was still sweating because of it.
He’d been going over the files on Sadie, Tanisha and Hailey, and now Howard’s death, when the door to the office swung open, banging against the wall. The blinds over the window rattled, and a gust of wind rushed in. Papers flew up around him. Frank looked up and out the window to his left. The brougham, once again, was moving slowly down Main Street.
Paralysis gripped him, the feeling going out of his legs. Color drained from his face, and his heart turned to ice.
He knew what he had to do, knew what he must do, but the thought terrified him.
Frank forgot about everything, the murders (if that were possible), the papers strewn all over the office, even the cold wind. All he saw was the brougham. Something evil—made from years past—lurked in the streets of the town he was trying to protect.
Like a man in a trance, he walked out of the office, down the stairs, and out the front door. The brougham was reeling him in.
Others (Ellishome’s finest) passed, walking the streets. Did they not notice the chill in the air? How come they weren’t looking at the brougham?
Instead of eyeing the antique vehicle, the passersby looked at him.
Sheriff Frank Allen Bimsley, ladies and gentleman, has officially lost his mind, he thought.
Could it be an illusion? Could someone be projecting the image along Main Street? If that were the case, why didn’t anybody else comment on it? Were they playing a joke on him? Had someone slipped him some LSD?
The brougham took the same route as before, turning left down Juniper Avenue.
And once again, Frank cautiously approached.
Today, the dead boy was gone. No massive, ill proportioned demon pulled it along instead of a horse. When Frank was close enough, the brougham turned transparent. Fog gathered. In the next instant, Frank heard something else…
A scream?
It seemed so. The brougham faded from sight, and in its wake, he heard the sound of a thousand slaughtered voices. The phantom vehicle locked every grisly, unconscionable crime behind its doors.
It’s all bad dreams. It’s hopeless, lost, like your life. Welcome to the Land of the Dead.
The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. Frank thought it was one of his uncontrollable thoughts.
Cedar Johanson, a short, elderly man with white hair, put a hand on Frank’s shoulder, startling him. His heart skipped a beat. “You all right, Sheriff?”
Frank’s throat clamped shut, but he nodded. “Cedar,” he said, choking on the word. His mouth was drier than a desert. He did not look away from where the brougham had disappeared. “Have you seen anything…peculiar around town lately?”
Cedar smiled, a rotten, toothless grin. “Just you, Sheriff.”
Bimsley nodded. For a second, he thought he saw a face of bones where Cedar’s face should be, a top hat on the man’s head. A gush of ravenous spiders spilled from Cedar’s mouth, and the man—startling Frank a second time—screamed loud and hellishly, making Frank wince.
A second later, it was gone. Cedar walked away, looking back at Frank as if he had just seen something. Cedar bolted into a dead run, trying to put as much distance between he and the sheriff as possible.
Frank Bimsley knelt to the ground, putting a hand to the sidewalk. He was dizzy. He felt like he was going to pass out.
Ellishome was turning into some carnival nightmare, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
v
The bad thing about spending the night at Eddie’s house was coming home the next day. Gavin had made it successfully back into his room without having to confront his mother, but now he sat here trying to ignore the rumble in his belly. He couldn’t ignore the rumble in his belly. That was the thing. He was starving. He’d eaten like a king at Eddie’s house: pancakes and syrup, toast and jam, bacon, and orange juice. He’d never had such a delicious meal in his life! When Eddie’s mother asked him if he wanted seconds, Gavin had nodded eagerly. Eddie’s mom was cool, he thought. She was sweet, pretty, and always seemed to be smiling at him, making Gavin feel right at home. He liked her, and he saw where Eddie got his looks.
Eddie’s mother was an Asian beauty.
Now, with the afternoon waning and the pancakes wearing off, Gavin’s stomach rumbled painfully. He wasn’t used to eating such hearty meals. He’d thought he was going to explode. But who could resist all that glorious food?
He’d been watching television for as long as he could, trying to ignore the rumble. He did not hear his mother upstairs; at least he hadn’t for a while. If he hurried, he could probably sneak up there now, rummage through the kitchen, and bolt back downstairs before she noticed. Even a stale piece of bread, a slice of cheese…anything to make the pain go away.
Gavin got off his bed, opened the door of his bedroom, and stepped into the basement. He moved toward the stairs, which led straight up and into the kitchen. He didn’t have to traverse the entire length of the house at least. He could hurry downstairs once he found something. Later, maybe he could sneak over to Eddie’s house for dinner. The thought put a smile on his face.
Gavin lifted his foot and placed it on the step, pausing as he listened for his mother. All was quiet. He took another step, the stairs creaking under his weight.
Predictable, he thought. Just like a predictable horror movie to have creaking stairs!
He’d had fun the night before, seeing all those pretty girls at the drive-in. When he thought about it, he realized the last twenty-four hours had probably been the best of his life. That certainly included breakfast at Eddie’s house. After the movie, they’d played video games until almost two o’clock in the morning. Eddie’s mother was still awake, and she’d made them huge bowls of chocolate ice cream. Gavin couldn’t believe it! Eddie had it made!
He’d dreamed about the palace again the night before, too. Landscapes, colors unraveled in his brain. Gavin couldn’t wait for the quest to begin. To get away from this house, even for a day…it was hard to imagine.
He took another step, the moaning boards, despite the carpet, protesting under his weight. Gavin closed his eyes, put his hand on the rail, and…dreamed…
He hadn’t expected to have so many friends so quickly, either. Despite the goings-on in Ellishome, Gavin was having the best time of his life lately: meeting Eddie, the skate-party, the drive-in. He’d had more fun in the last few weeks than he could remember.
Snapdragon Book I: My Enemy Page 36
