It all hit Jacob. “And that’s where I come in.”
“Yes, you did things that caused them to die. You led them to their deaths.”
“I took out the chaff.”
“Yes. You caused them to die, so they would not kill off everyone else in the future.”
“Sonnie, it’s really fucking crazy, but I think you’re right.” Jacob turned off the water.
Sonnie left the room for a moment. When she came back, she whipped open the shower curtain. “Glad to be of service.” She handed him a towel.
Jacob took the towel and stepped out into the puddle of water he had made on the floor. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t sweat it.” She grabbed hold of him.
“There’s still a lot to be explained. More people have died, and we don’t know why.”
“Yeah, and we don’t know what the third characteristic means.”
“The third characteristic?”
“Yeah. The third characteristic is that the process regenerates itself. Any ideas on that?”
Sonnie thought for a little while. “Not a clue. Is that all of them?”
“No, I think there’s one more.”
“What is that?”
“I don’t know that, but I think it’s something I have to find out.”
“Oh! That reminds me. Do you remember that picture you gave me, the one with your grandma and the boy?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Well I asked around and found out who the boy is.”
“Who?”
“Dean Carrier.”
“Dean Carrier! That crazy old man that lived down on Maple?”
“You mean that crazy old man who still lives down on Maple.”
“He’s still alive?”
“Alive and as crazy as ever.”
“My God!”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Do you think it would do us any good to go see him?”
“I don’t know, but I think we should try.”
Jacob hesitated. He realized that he had just invited her along. “All right then, Sonnie. We’ll go tomorrow.”
Sonnie hugged him. “Let’s go to bed.”
Jacob lay with Sonnie until she fell asleep. Then he got out of bed and moved into the living room. He waited out the night on the coach. The guilt was too much. She had helped him. Yet, he knew he couldn’t save her.
#
The unkempt lawn of Dean Carrier reminded Jacob of the grass he had seen the snake crawl out of when he visited Pete Stebens and his grandfather. For just a few seconds, Jacob’s mind was taken away from the fact that he was with Sonnie and they were approaching the mad man’s house. Instead, he thought of how if he and Sonnie were right, then Tommy Carmichael was the one death he still had to experience.
The yelling of the mad man brought Jacob back. He and Sonnie stopped halfway through the yard.
“What’s he saying?” Jacob asked.
“I don’t know. It sounds like gibberish.”
“Do you think we should come back later?”
“Why? I doubt that he’ll be any less crazy.”
Sonnie took Jacob’s arm and pulled him along. Jacob didn’t resist. He had never known her to be as strong as she was in the last few days. But he was glad. And he, somehow, trusted her judgment better than his own.
Sonnie knocked on the front door, and the yelling went on, indifferent and seemingly unaffected by the knocking. Sonnie knocked again, much harder this time, only to get the same response, no response.
“Come on!” Sonnie said.
“Sonnie, I don’t . . .”
She was already through the door before Jacob could protest. He followed her in.
Dean Carrier stopped yelling immediately as they came into the dusty, sloppy living room where he sat. He turned his face toward them, displaying the puss encrusted eyelids where there used to be eyes. “You boys going to school?”
Sonnie and Jacob only looked at each other.
“I don’t go anywhere anymore, because I can’t see.” Dean Carrier turned toward the empty space on the couch where he sat. Then he started to talk gibberish again.
Sonnie looked at Jacob, and then she left his side. She walked up to the old man and knelt down in front of him. “Mr. Carrier? Dean?”
The old man didn’t leave his conversation with the empty space. Even when Sonnie placed her hand on his, he didn’t respond.
“Dean!” she yelled. He jolted just a little, but still ignored her for the most part.
“Sonnie, I don’t think this is going to do us any good.”
Sonnie sighed. Then she yelled again. “Dean Carrier!”
This time Dean didn’t even move.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right Jacob. Let’s go.”
“Thank you. The funk in here is really starting to get to me.”
Sonnie was up. She walked past Jacob to the door. Jacob got up. He took one last look at the old man and started for the front porch where Sonnie stood with her back turned away. When Jacob reached the front door, Dean’s gibberish stopped and he began to make sense.
“Is that your grandson?”
Sonnie turned around fast, and looked at Jacob with massive eyes. They both rushed back into Dean’s living room.
Dean’s head was turned toward them. Had it not been for his swollen-shut eyes, he would have looked as if he were staring right at them. He was silent for a little while, and so were they. Finally, he spoke again.
“I can’t see you Jacob Sims, but I know you’re there.”
Sonnie’s mouth fell open.
“I know why you come too. You don’t. But I do.”
Jacob moved closer this time. He sat down right in front of Dean.
“There are some things I’m supposed to tell you. I reckon your grandma would tell you these things herself if she could talk a little better.”
“How do you know?”
“I never told these things to anybody. I never did because I didn’t want to die. A lot of people died back then.”
“What?”
“Jacob, he can’t hear you. Just let him go.”
“Back before your grandma married your grandpa, she was mine. She was mine in school and then she was mine for a little while after she was out of school. That was when I worked at the bar.”
Jacob and Sonnie looked at each other.
“She left me, though. I think it was because she thought I would die for knowing her. A lot of people died back then.”
Dean Carrier choked and then he gasped for air. Then he came back. “I don’t think I would have died, though. And I think she knows that now too. At least, that’s what she says when she calls me on the phone.”
Jacob looked at the old man, as he felt Sonnie’s stare bearing down on him. He felt her come close to him and that felt good now.
“Jacob, I really don’t think there’s a working phone in this place,” Sonnie said.
“Yeah, I know.”
“I can’t really remember why all those people had to die. I used to know, but it all just confuses me now. And I can’t tell you all the things your grandma wants me to. I just can’t remember that much anymore.”
The old man stopped. He moved his head from side to side, as if he were listening for something in the room. He nodded his head and then began to speak again.
“All I can do is give you something. It’s in the bedroom over there. I think it’s in the top drawer. It’s an old brown book.”
Sonnie left Jacob’s side and went into the room.
“The people in this town have a way of not knowing things. I think it’s because they’re too busy with themselves and their own to notice each other. I figured that out a long time ago.”
“And I bet he never told a soul,” Sonnie said, as she returned with the thin brown book. “Just like I never will.”
Jacob looked at Sonnie. Her eyes were huge and there was promise in them. Dean Carrier said one last thing before he fell asle
ep. “I don’t think it matters if I die now.”
Jacob and Sonnie stayed for a few minutes longer, just to be sure he had nothing else to offer. Dean did not. As they walked out of the front yard, Jacob began to ask her.
“Sonnie?”
“I haven’t told anybody Jacob, and I never will. You don’t have to worry about that.”
Jacob took her hand as they walked back toward her apartment.
“Thank you, Grandma,” he whispered.
Chapter 12
“So why you, Jacob?” Sonnie asked, without lifting her eyes from the old yearbook that Dean Carrier had given them. “Why were you chosen to do this?”
Jacob, who had been watching her from the couch, thought about her question then answered. “I don’t think I was exactly chosen to do this.”
Now Sonnie looked up from the yearbook.
“What do you mean? You were obviously a part of it all.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t chosen. It’s not like whatever is in control of this looked down from the sky or wherever it resides and said, ‘There’s Jacob Sims. I think he’ll make a fine murderer.’”
“You’re not a murderer, Jacob. You didn’t kill anybody.”
“No, I just led them there.”
“And that’s out of your control. You were chosen to do a job.”
“Not chosen, though. I mean, it’s been a part of me my whole life. As long as I can remember, I’ve always had this vague tension that I can’t understand. For no reason at all, I’ve always just felt bad.”
“Always? You mean all the time?”
Jacob thought. “No, not always, I guess. There were times that I didn’t feel bad, like when I was studying real hard. I didn’t feel good. But I didn’t feel bad.”
“Why’s that? Why did you not feel bad then?”
“I think it was because that was the way it wanted me to think. It wanted me to lose myself in something. To keep my mind occupied. That way I wouldn’t spend time trying to understand what I am.”
“And you wouldn’t see what was going on around you. I mean, in Nescata.”
“Exactly.”
“So why now? Why are you being shown all this now?”
“I have no idea.”
Sonnie shook her head. “Me neither.”
“But I wasn’t chosen to do this, and neither was my grandma. It was planned from the beginning. That’s why I’ve always had the tension. That’s why it runs down family lines. We weren’t chosen to do this, Sonnie.”
“You were created to do this.”
Jacob nodded.
“Jacob?”
“Yeah.”
“How do you feel now?”
“I feel the best I ever have.”
Sonnie looked up and smiled at him.
“You're going to be okay,” Jacob said. “I’m not going to be tense anymore. Life will go on, I think.”
“Yeah.” Sonnie looked down to the yearbook and started flipping pages. Jacob could see the look on her face, though. She seemed content.
“And I’m almost done here. Just a couple of more things to know, and this is done.”
“Well, you want to start with this?” Sonnie turned the book toward him. There, on the open page, was the same picture his grandma had given him. Jacob crawled down on the floor beside Sonnie. He started moving the pages.
“Let’s find what year my grandma is in.”
“I already did.” Sonnie took the book. She turned a few pages. “She’s a junior.” She pointed to a little round picture toward the center of the page.
“And the rest of them?” Sonnie asked.
“The products, I’m sure.”
They both stared at the page for a little while.
“Did you find Dean yet?”
“Yeah. Freshman.” Sonnie flipped back a few pages. “Right there.”
First, Jacob looked at Dean Carrier as a young boy. Then, he began to scan the page. Something caught his eye.
“Oh my God!”
“What?”
Jacob dropped a finger on the book. “That boy was in my dream. He was the one who asked about the perfect process. That’s him, exactly how he was, black and white and everything.”
Sonnie’s eyes were intent on the book. “Look at the name.”
Jacob looked over to the side where the names were listed.
“Second one down on that row, Jacob.”
“Andrew Tomsak!”
“Our science teacher, himself.”
“Holy shit! He was in my dream!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah! That’s him!”
Jacob looked over the page, but found no one else. “Turn it to the sophomores.”
Sonnie turned one page and there they were. Among them was another that Jacob recognized.
“Who’s that? Find the name.”
“All right. But I don’t really need to. Look at her face. That’s Mrs. Carter. She was a Nescata graduate too.”
“I see what you mean. She had that same intense look then.”
“Are there any more?”
Jacob looked for a few seconds. “I don’t see any.”
Sonnie turned another page. “Recognize any here?”
Jacob scanned line by line. “No, none of these were in my dream.”
“All right, how about the seniors?”
This time it wasn’t hard. “Right there. That’s Cindy Hogaboom. She was in my dream.”
Sonnie laughed. “Does that surprise you?”
“Yeah. I guess it shouldn’t. She was our principal. And in the dream she was kind of like the leader of the group.”
“So how many were in your dream?”
“There were two more.”
Sonnie began to flip the pages back the other way.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, you say there were two more. And if I remember right, there were two more Nescata High faculty who were Nescata grads.”
“Who?”
Sonnie stopped. “You really didn’t notice much of what went on around you, did you?”
“No, I really didn’t.”
Sonnie went back to turning the pages. “Right there, Jacob. Is that one?”
“Yeah, she was there.”
“That’s Louese Whitfield?”
“That’s Ms. Whitfield?”
“Yes, that’s our history teacher when she was in the seventh grade.”
Sonnie flipped some more pages, scanning as she went.
“And this one?”
“Yeah, he was there too.”
“That’s your coach.”
“Brian Shaw.”
Sonnie closed the book.
#
For nearly an hour, Sonnie had been writing something. Jacob sat and waited. He knew the answers would be delivered to him. Whether they were from Sonnie or from a vision, he would know soon enough. Sonnie was first.
“It regenerates itself.”
“What?”
“The process regenerates itself. These people you saw in your dream were Nescata grads. They were trained in Nescata, and then they trained us.”
“The process regenerated itself.”
Sonnie looked back at her notebook.
“Is that what you’ve been writing, Sonnie?”
“Yeah. That and a little more.” She looked back up at him. “Consider this. Andrew Tomsak was the science teacher at Nescata High way before mine or your classes hit kindergarten.”
“And a good one at that.”
“I’d say. How many times did one of his students win the state science fair competition?”
“I couldn’t tell you, Sonnie.”
“Of course you couldn’t. But I can name three off the top of my head. Irwin Check and Matt Seifert from your class. Not to mention Todd Blacklund, a few years older.”
“Wow!”
“And then there was Joe Ann Carter.”
“The manic math teacher. She was nuts, Sonnie. I remember how she u
sed to run from place to place between classes.”
“Yeah, but she was never late, and not too many people were behind. You finished Algebra if you took her Algebra class. Then you started Trig that same year.”
“And by the next year, when you signed up for Trig, you were ready to start Calculus.”
“And she was there before we came. So was Ms. Whitfield.”
“Another odd ball.”
“But you never fell asleep in her class. Nobody did. And how many high-school-history teachers can claim that?”
“I see your point.”
Sonnie stood up and began to pace across the room. “Now those three were always there. At least, as far as we’re concerned.”
“Right.”
“Then there were the other two. Ms. Hogaboom didn’t take over as principal until the year before you came. The next year, the year your class came in, she hired Brian Shaw.”
“Coach Shaw. He was great.”
“Great is an understatement. The year before he came, you could count the number of wins for both the basketball and football teams on one hand. And neither had made the playoffs in the previous decade.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I pay attention. But I’m sure you know too what he did for athletics. Your senior year—”
“Both teams won state, football and basketball.”
“You got it. And the very next year?”
“The very next year what?”
“He left.”
“Okay?”
“Okay. So listen to this. Your class was the only class to have him for four years.”
“Right.”
“Do you remember what principal Hogaboom started up your senior year?”
“Vaguely.”
“She started that Life Preparation class. It was only for seniors, and she taught it herself.”
“That’s right. It was basically an ethics class.”
“Uh huh. And she thought it went over well. She was going to make it a regular thing, every year.”
“And didn’t she?”
“No. The next year she fell ill and had to reduce her duties. The year after that, she went into the hospital and died of cervical cancer.”
Jacob nodded.
“So there were two things that only you and your classmates received: all four years of Coach Shaw and one year of Ms. Hogaboom’s class.”
Scribner Horror Bundle: Four Horror Novels by Joshua Scribner Page 62
