Dodger said, “If he was here, he’s long gone now.”
They were about to leave the room when something caught Courtney’s eye. On the floor was a plain white piece of paper. Most of it was underneath a closet door. One corner stuck out, which was the only thing Courtney saw. She knelt down and pulled it out. The paper turned out to be a four-by-five-inch rectangle. Courtney turned it over. When she saw what it was, she started to cry.
“What is it?” Dodger asked.
“It’s an accident,” she said, wiping her eyes. “No way this was left on purpose.”
Courtney handed him the paper. Dodger took a long look and asked softly, “This him?”
Courtney nodded. It was a photo that could have been taken at a local drugstore on Second Earth. It had a cheesy fake background that looked like a Cape Cod beach. Courtney knew It was fake because she didn’t think Mark had ever been to Cape Cod and nobody in the picture was dressed for the beach. It was a photo of Mark and his mom and dad… the mom and dad who had been killed. It was the sudden, shocking death of his parents that catapulted Mark into the trouble he now faced, and the trouble he was bringing to Halla.
“He looks about fourteen here,” Courtney said. “He’s older now.”
“His parents?” Dodger asked.
Courtney nodded. She took the picture back. She wanted to see it again. She wanted to see the old Mark. The Mark who ate too many carrots and loved Japanese animation. The Mark who was Bobby’s best friend and had become her best friend once the doorway to Halla had opened. She wanted to see that Mark again. She wanted to hear him stutter. She wanted to know why the hell he had done what he did.
Courtney wiped her eyes and stood up, tucking the photo into her back pocket. She was in control again.
“So what do we do?” Dodger asked.
“We talk to the neighbors,” Courtney announced, all business. “Somebody here must have known him. Maybe they know where he went.”
They started on the fourth floor and worked their way down, knocking on doors and asking suspicious neighbors if they knew anything about Mark and where he might have gone. They pretty much got the same answer each time. Many people saw Mark, but nobody spoke with him. Nobody had a clue as to what had happened to him either. After a futile hour Courtney and Dodger found themselves back out in front of the building, not knowing much more than when they had started.
“At least we know he was here,” Dodger offered hopefully. “That’s something. Maybe I can call the city, or the post office, and see if he left a forwarding address.”
Courtney brightened. “That’s a good idea!”
“Thank you,” Dodger said. “Trust me yet?”
“No. No offense, but no.”
“None taken. Let’s go back to the hotel.”
As if on cue, a taxicab screeched to a stop at the curb next to them.
“See?” Dodger exclaimed. “Things are looking up already!”
The two got in the cab and settled in for the ride uptown.
“Manhattan Tower Hotel,” Dodger said to the cabbie. “Don’t take the scenic route.”
“No, sir!” the cabbie said brightly. “I’ll get you right where you need to be.”
Courtney froze. She knew that voice. It took her two seconds to process the information and make a decision.
“Get out!” she yelled at Dodger.
“Wha-?” he asked dumbly.
“Get out of the car!” she screamed, and grabbed at the door handle. It was locked. She went for the door lock. It was sawed off. She lurched across Dodger’s lap to the door on his side. It was just as locked and just as sawed off.
“What are you doing?” Dodger asked in confusion.
“Yeah,” the cabbie said. “What are you doing? Don’t want to take a spin with me?”
Courtney didn’t have to look at the cabbie to know who it was, but she looked anyway. A glass partition separated the front seat from the back, but she could still see the cabbie as plain as could be. Staring back at them, wearing the floppy hat of a New York cabbie, was Andy Mitchell.
“Saint Dane,” Courtney whispered.
“Who?” Dodger asked.
Mitchell snorted, smiled, and exclaimed, “Let’s roll!”
The cab lurched forward, throwing Courtney and Dodger back into the seat.
“Hey!” Dodger screamed. “Are you nuts?”
“If I had a nickel for every time somebody asked me that…,” Mitchell said with a laugh.
“Who is he?” Dodger asked Courtney.
“He’s the bad guy,” Courtney answered.
“Pleased to meet you!” Mitchell said, tipping his cap. “Mitchell’s the name.”
“I thought you said his name was Saint Dane?” Dodger asked Courtney.
The cab screeched around a corner, seemingly up on two wheels. Courtney fell into Dodger. The tires dug into the road. The car flew forward.
“Where’s Mark?’ Courtney yelled.
“You’re too late.” Mitchell laughed. “He’s a big shot now. He won’t be living in dumps like that anymore.”
Horns blared as the cab snaked through traffic.
“Hey, Mac! Slow down!” Dodger ordered, banging on the glass.
“What’s the matter, bellboy? Ain’t you up for a little adventure?”
Dodger yanked on the door. It was a waste of energy.
“How did you do it, Saint Dane?” Courtney snarled. “How did you get Mark to come here?”
Andy Mitchell laughed and gave a humble shrug. “Hey, it’s what I do.”
He turned the wheel hard, cutting off another car, sending it careening off the road and onto a sidewalk.
“Yeehaaa!” Mitchell shouted with exhilaration.
Dodger yelled just as loud. In terror.
Andy yanked the wheel the other way. They bounced off the sidewalk and screamed across three lanes of traffic. Cars spun out and skidded into one another to avoid the cab from hell. Dodger leaned back in his seat and kicked at the glass partition that kept them away from Saint Dane.
“Stop… the… car!” he ordered.
“Why are you doing this?” Courtney yelled. “If you wanted to kill me, you could have done it a thousand times over.”
“I don’t want to kill you, Chetwynde. I just want to have a little fun.”
“It’s below you to torture me,” Courtney said, trying to keep her voice in control. She was scared to death, but she didn’t want to let Saint Dane know that.
“Then consider this a favor,” he said.
“Favor?” Dodger shouted. He kicked at the glass. It was too thick to break.
Mitchell skidded into a turn. Courtney saw the Hudson River directly in front of them. The demon spun the wheel again and they were on the West Side Highway, headed south, parallel to the wide river.
“Why is this a favor, Saint Dane?” Courtney asked, trying to stay focused and keep the fear back.
“Your job is done, Chetwynde,” Andy Mitchell said. “You did exactly what I needed you to do. Now it’s time for you to toddle on home.”
“I can’t break the glass,” Dodger screamed.
Courtney barely knew Dodger was even there. She was focused on Andy. On Saint Dane.
“What did I do?” she asked.
“Isn’t that obvious?” Mitchell laughed. “Sorry you nearly died in Vermont but, hey, if that’s what it took, so be it. Nice to see you’re not crippled anymore.”
Mitchell laughed and jammed past two drivers who were going too slowly for him. They blasted their horns. Mitchell giggled and waved at them.
“What are you talking about?” Courtney demanded.
“Are you stupid or do you just look it?” Mitchell asked. “We came to your rescue. Dimond and me. It was a real bonding experience. After I helped save your life, I looked like a real hero to him. After that, he trusted me, and it was all thanks to you.”
Mitchell bashed into the traffic divider, blowing out the right front wheel. The car lurched to t
he right, but Mitchell kept in control and charged on.
“That’s why you ran me off the road in Massachusetts?” Courtney asked. “So you and Mark could come to my rescue?”
Mitchell turned all the way around, taking his eyes off the road. He looked right at Courtney and grinned. “Face it, Chetwynde. You delivered Mark Dimond. Now that I’ve got him, I’ve got Halla.”
“No!” Courtney lost it. She screamed and banged on the glass. Her fists were only inches from Andy Mitchell. From Saint Dane. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted to bash his smug face. She wanted him to die.
“Look out!” Dodger shouted.
The cab flew down an exit ramp and off the elevated highway. Andy Mitchell casually looked forward and took the wheel, steering clear of a cement barrier.
“Whoa, that would have hurt,” he said calmly.
The flat tire was shredded but the car charged on. Sparks flew from the metal rim that was now the fourth wheel. They were at the bottom of Manhattan, where the river widened out to become a harbor. Long piers jutted out into the water. Traffic picked up, but Andy Mitchell didn’t slow down.
“Where is he?” Courtney screamed, banging on the glass. “Tell me where he is!”
Mitchell turned the wheel one last time. He flew off the road, cut off a car, and bounced over the sidewalk. They were headed for one of the piers that stretched into the river. People strolled along casually, enjoying the day and admiring the view. Not for long. At the sound of the oncoming cab, they dove out of the way to avoid being mashed. The cab charged forward, blasting onto the wide pier.
“Hey! Dead end!” Dodger shouted.
“Is it?” Mitchell asked innocently. “Oops.”
Courtney didn’t care. She was beyond caring.
“Go home, Chetwynde,” Mitchell said calmly. “See your parents. Cuddle up with your mechanical cat. You have a couple of older brothers, don’t you? Spend some time with them. The battle is over. There’s nothing left for anybody to do but sit back and watch me fly.”
Courtney became calm. It didn’t matter that they were hurtling toward the end of the pier. She sat back in the seat and folded her arms.
“You’re wrong,” she said calmly. “It’s not close to being over. Bobby won’t let that happen, and neither will I.”
Andy Mitchell whipped around to look into the backseat. Only he wasn’t Andy Mitchell anymore. His face had transformed into that of Saint Dane. His blue-white eyes flashed. The bloodred veins in his bald head flared.
“Then you’ll just have to die!” he hissed.
Dodger screamed.
The car crashed through a wooden barrier at the end of the pier and sailed into the air. Saint Dane melted into black smoke and blew out the window. Courtney and Dodger were alone as the cab sailed down and hit the water with a bone-jarring shudder.
(CONTINUED)
Cars didn’t come equipped with seat belts in 1937.
When the cab hit the water, Courtney and Dodger were thrown forward. They hit the glass partition separating the seats and bounced back like rag dolls being tumbled in a clothes dryer. Courtney hit her head, hard. She was knocked senseless.
“Courtney!” Dodger yelled. “Courtney, you all right?”
D. J. MacHale
The Pilgrims of Rayne
Courtney didn’t hear him. She was barely conscious.
“We’re going down!” Dodger yelled.
The car floated on its belly for only a few seconds. The nose tipped down quickly. That’s where the weight was. The engine acted like an anchor, pulling the vehicle under. Water poured in the open front windows. The heavier the front became, the steeper the angle became. Soon the car was floating near vertical, with the tail up in the air.
“Courtney!” Dodger yelled. He shook her. Courtney was totally disoriented.
“What happened?” she asked dreamily.
“We’re gonna drown!” Dodger screamed.
The back of the front seat was now the floor. Courtney and Dodger sat on the glass partition as water rose up around them.
“Where’s Saint Dane?” Courtney asked.
“Gone!” Dodger shouted. “He turned into smoke and flew out the window! I swear!”
“I believe you,” Courtney said, dazed.
The water was up to their waists and bubbling higher. In seconds the car would be submerged and on its way to the bottom.
“Move!” Dodger ordered Courtney.
He pushed her out of the way and slid toward one of the back doors. He pushed up off his bottom with his hands and kicked at the window, desperate to smash it out. The higher the water got, the tougher it was to get enough leverage to put force into his kicks.
“Help me!” he shouted at Courtney.
Courtney rolled over. Her head went underwater. She sputtered, coughed, and sat back up. The cold shock cleared her head. “What’s going on?” she shouted.
“We’re sinking,” Dodger shouted. “We’ve got to kick out the window or we’re done.”
He gave another kick, and another, but it was tough getting power because of the rising water. Courtney scrambled next to Dodger, put her arms down and started to kick the window on her own. The window didn’t budge.
“Together!” Dodger commanded.
They sat next to each other, up on their arms, their bellies pointed to the sky. The water was nearly at their shoulders.
“Ready?” Dodger called out. “One, two, three, kick!”
They both kicked the window with their heels, but not at the exact same time.
“Again!” Dodger ordered. “One, two, three, kick!”
They both pounded the window again, hitting it together this time. It didn’t budge.
“We can’t get enough force!” Dodger yelled. “Don’t stop!” Courtney ordered.
She shifted position, moving her hands so she was closer to the window, when something slipped, making her lose balance.
“Whoa!” Courtney exclaimed as her face slid under the water.
Dodger quickly pulled her back up. “What happened?” he asked.
“Something moved down there,” Courtney exclaimed. “I had my weight on my hands and it made something slide.”
Dodger looked down into the water, then ducked below the surface. A second later he came up, sputtering.
“The glass partition!” he exclaimed. “It’s not locked anymore. I can slide it open!”
As he spoke, Dodger pushed with his feet to slide open the glass partition that separated the backseat from the front seat. The water was now tickling their chins.
Courtney gasped, “Is the opening big enough to go through?”
“I think.”
“If we can get down there, maybe the front doors are unlocked.”
“What if they’re not?” Dodger asked.
“Dumb question.”
“Yeah, dumb question,” Dodger echoed.
The water was rising faster. Soon their heads would be bobbing against the rear window.
“It’s good the doors are underwater,” Courtney added hopefully. “It means the water pressure is equal, and the doors should open.”
“If they’re unlocked.”
“Yeah, if they’re unlocked.”
They looked at each other. Neither budged. Courtney saw the fear in Dodger’s eyes. “If we’re going, we gotta go now,” she said. “The car is sinking like a brick.”
“I’ll go,” Dodger said. “Give me time to get the door open.”
“Dodger?”
“Yeah?”
“I trust you now.”
Dodger smiled. “I guess I better not mess up.” He took a deep breath and ducked below the surface. Courtney watched as he went straight down through the opening in the partition, feet first. He pushed himself all the way down until his head was below the glass, then turned toward the front passenger door. He reached for the handle, twisted it, and pushed against the door. It didn’t move. He put his foot against the steering wheel and leaned into the door.
It wouldn’t budge.
“Come back up!” Courtney shouted down through the water.
He didn’t. He pushed away from the passenger door and went to the driver’s door. He grasped the handle with one hand and the steering wheel with the other.
Courtney took a breath to say something, and got a mouthful of water. Her head bumped the glass of the rear window. She was underwater. The car was nearly full and beginning its final plummet to the bottom. She had no choice but to follow Dodger down into the front seat. She found the opening in the partition with her feet, hooked her toes under the glass, bent her knees, and pulled herself down. She grabbed the opening with her hands and pulled herself down the rest of the way. The water was dark and green… and getting darker. They were headed for the bottom. Still, she could see the blur of Dodger. With her back to the passenger door, she watched the small bellhop make one last attempt to save them. He twisted the door handle and put his shoulder against the door. Courtney leaned into Dodger, adding whatever force she had. She anchored her feet against the passenger door for leverage and pushed.
The door moved. Dodger forced it open just enough that he could slide out of the car into open water. Quickly he turned back for Courtney. She was already after him. She pushed off the passenger door and swam, head first, out of the driver’s door. They were free, but not safe. Neither knew how deep they had been pulled by the car. Courtney gave a quick glance down to see the blurry yellow cab sinking quickly beneath them. She stared at the ghostly image, mesmerized as it slid into the murky green depths. The idea that they might have been in that car froze her.
She felt a strong hand grab her arm. It brought her back to reality. They had to get to the surface. Courtney was already feeling the strain of having held her breath for too long. They were out of the death car, but if they couldn’t hold their breath long enough to get to the surface, it wouldn’t matter. They’d be just as dead. Dodger tugged, pulling her up. Courtney kicked, and the two rocketed for the surface. With nothing around them for perspective there was no way to know how deep they were. All Courtney could do was focus on the light above and hope they’d hit it before running out of air. She kicked and kicked. Her lungs ached. She wanted to exhale, but feared losing the last remaining bit of air in her lungs.
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