. . . she had not been naked. That had come later, after they . . .
Ghostlike hands appeared out of the dirty-looking fog. The hands stroked her naked thighs. But as she watched through horror-filled eyes, she realized the hands were just that—hands. No arms. The hands were attached to . . . nothing. There were hundreds of hands, the fingers wriggling, attempting to touch her. Then those young men rose phantomlike out of the fog, to stand looking at her. It all came back to her. The obscene language of the men; the things they had told her they were planning to do to her. And then did do . . .
Tracy opened her eyes and looked up into the concerned face of Lucas. He smiled at her. All memories of that horrible afternoon left her. She could not for the world imagine what had happened to her. Why was Lucas kneeling over her?
“Easy now, honey,” he said. “You just had a fall. Hit your head on the railing, I guess. Can you move your legs?”
She could.
“Now your fingers and arms.”
She wriggled her fingers and moved her arms.
“Hurt anywhere?” Lucas asked.
“No. Strangely enough, I don’t. I’m just a little. . . confused, that’s all. How long have I been out?”
“Maybe a couple of minutes. No more than that. I heard you yell and got here in time to see you fall. Come on, take my hand.”
Lucas carefully helped her to her feet and they walked slowly down the stairs.
“This was so stupid of me,” Tracy said. “And I don’t even remember tripping and falling. Come to think of it,” she said, pausing, “I don’t even remember why I went up the stairs in the first place.”
“Just an accident, that’s all,” Lucas said. “After last night, we’re all on edge and not operating at a hundred percent.”
“Tell me.”
In their bedroom, he told her about Kyle’s visit and about inviting the Cartiers to spend the weekend. “Hope I didn’t step out of bounds by not asking you first.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. I’m anxious to meet Kyle’s wife. It’ll be fun for all of us. Do they have any children?”
“I forgot to ask.”
She laughed and lay down on the bed, opening her arms. “Lie down with me and hold me for a minute?”
“With pleasure,” he said. He forgot all about the gold rocking horse in his jeans pocket.
They were asleep in five minutes.
* * *
“Come,” the voice whispered in Jackie’s ear. “I want to play.”
The girl stirred on the bed.
“Don’t you like me?” the voice whispered.
Jackie stirred in her sleep. “I don’t know you,” she murmured. “I can’t see you.”
The shape of a boy materialized in Jackie’s head. “Can you see me now?”
“Kind of.”
“Come out and meet me.”
“Why?”
“No one lived around here until you came this summer. And you won’t come out and play.”
The boy seemed lonely.
“Where are you?” Jackie whispered, still more asleep than awake.
“Right behind your house. Come on out and we’ll play. Please?”
The boy vanished from Jackie’s head. She sat upright in her bed. Had she been dreaming? Sure. The boy wasn’t real. Then a sound reached her ears. It was the sound of a horse nickering softly and gently.
Maybe it wasn’t a dream after all?
But if not, what was it?
Not sure if she was still dreaming it all, Jackie tossed off the thin covering and stepped out of bed. She dressed and slipped out of her room. Looking in on her brother, she saw he was sleeping soundly. She looked in on her parents. Asleep. She went to the kitchen, more convinced now than before it had all been a dream. She drank a glass of milk and ate a bowl of cereal. As she was rinsing her bowl and glass, her eyes lifted to the open window over the sink, facing the woods. She opened her mouth in silent shock and disbelief.
A young boy, perhaps twelve or thirteen, sat on a beautiful pony just at the edge of the woods. He waved at her. She ran out of the kitchen and stood on the veranda. He waved again. Jackie returned the wave. He motioned for her to come to him. Jackie looked around. No one else in sight. She hesitated for just a moment, and the boy pulled at the reins and the pony turned its head toward the woods.
“Wait!” Jackie called.
The boy reined the pony back.
Jackie ran across the back grounds of the estate. She was out of breath by the time she reached the boy and the pony. The boy was the most handsome she had ever seen, with long shoulder-length blond hair and the bluest of eyes. He wore only funny-looking baggy pants, his chest and feet bare. He had a marvelous tan.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hello,” the boy replied, not taking his piercing blue eyes off her. His voice was odd-sounding. Hollow.
“I’m dreaming.”
“Not . . . really,” the boy offered a rather confusing reply.
“I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
“What’s your name?”
“Randolph. And you’re Jackie.”
“How did you know my name?”
He did not reply. He held out his hand. “Come ride with me.”
She hesitated.
He smiled. “Are you afraid?”
Youthfulness threw caution to the wind. No way she was going to let this gorgeous hunk out of her life. “Don’t be silly.”
“Then come ride. Just take my hand, I’ll pull you up.”
“Where will we go?”
“Not far.”
“Promise? I can’t go far. I’m in enough trouble as it is.”
He smiled reassuringly. “I promise. Take my hand.”
When she touched his hand, a very odd sensation filled the girl. It was not sexual; more like eerie. Randolph’s hand was so cold. She swung up easily behind him. He was strong, too. She put her arms around his waist, locking her hands across his flat stomach. His skin was cold. She wondered why, if he was so cold, didn’t he put on a shirt?
“Hang on tightly,” the boy said in that curious voice.
The boy touched his heels to the horse’s flanks and they went loping into the woods.
I shouldn’t be doing this, Jackie thought, her cheek pressed against the boy’s back.
“Of course, you should,” Randolph replied aloud. “We’re not doing anything wrong, and we won’t.”
That frightened her. “How did you know what I was thinking?”
“I know many things you do not. Relax. I will have you back before your parents awaken. I can make a minute seem like an hour.”
Was he crazy? Oh, God! What have I got myself into this time? “How did you know my parents were asleep? You’re weird!”
Randolph laughed, his laughter ringing clean and pure as a silver bell. She had never heard laughter like that. “Our first visit will be a short one. I just wanted you to meet me and learn to trust me. And for you to meet some of my friends. We are on your side.”
“Your friends?” Jackie said.
As if anticipating her every move, the boy said, “Don’t look down!”
But it was too late.
Jackie thought she would faint. Thought she might fall off the pony. Wet her panties. Do something.
They were above the estate, high off the ground, slowly circling. She must be dreaming. She had to be dreaming.
She sure hoped she was.
She opened her mouth to scream. The scene changed. They were in a clearing, on the ground. The clearing had thick timber all around it. When Jackie lifted her eyes to take in everything contained within the clearing, she knew then she had to be dreaming all of this. No way was any of this possible.
“This is where I sometimes live,” the boy told her as they dismounted. “And these are some of my friends.”
His friends looked silently at the girl.
Randolph’s friends were wolves.
12
“Johnny,” the boy’s name was whispered. “Johnny? Can you hear me?”
Unlike his sister, Johnny did not lie in bed and fight awakening. He sat straight up at the first calling of his name, his heart pounding.
“Who . . . who is it?” he whispered. “What’s going on?”
“Do not be alarmed,” the girl’s voice was soothing. “There is no danger in me. I just want to talk with you.”
“Oh, yeah?” Johnny looked frantically around him. He was alone in the room. “I think you’re tryin’ to give me a heart attack or something. Where are you?”
“Waiting for you at the wood’s edge. Please come out and talk with me.”
“Not on a bet!” the boy blurted.
The girl laughed. “I can’t believe you are afraid of a girl? A great big boy like you.”
“I’m not afraid!”
“Then come out. Let us meet one another. I won’t hurt you, I promise. Oh, well. Maybe you’re a scaredy-cat. That’s probably it.”
That stung Johnny. “I am not. I’ll be right out.” He swung off the bed, dressed quickly, and slipped from the house, after first checking to see where his parents were. They were asleep. He looked in Jackie’s room. Gone! The sneak!
He grabbed a cookie on the way out and had wolfed it down by the time he got to the wood’s edge. He stood alone, looking around. He could see no one. He felt kind of relieved. So it had been a dream after all. He turned to leave and literally bumped into the girl.
He opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He closed his mouth. He was speechless and stunned. He blushed. He was in love.
The girl was about his height, with long golden hair and very pale blue eyes. She was beautiful. Johnny stared.
“Hello,” the girl said. Her voice was kind of funny-sounding. Like she was speaking from a long way off. Hollow, the word came to him. “My name is Anastasia. But you can call me Anna. That is allowed.”
Allowed? Johnny opened his mouth again. He said, “Uh . . .”
She laughed.
He felt like a fool.
“It’s all right,” Anna said. “I know what you’re thinking.”
His blush went from nose to toes. He hoped to God she didn’t know what he was thinking.
He found his voice. “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“Oh, but I do. And I don’t mind.” She held out her hand. “Come, I want you to meet some of my friends.”
“Where are we going?” This had to be a dream. It just had to be. People like this don’t just appear out of thin air. At least, Johnny thought, he hoped they didn’t.
Anastasia was dressed in a long gown, kind of like a nightgown, but not quite. It came down to her ankles. One of those old-fashioned dresses, like fairy princesses wear in movies. And, the boy noticed for the first time, there was something not-quite-right about her appearance. Anna was . . . was, almost perfect.
He took her hand. He almost jerked his hand away when they touched. Anna’s hand was so cold.
“Don’t be alarmed,” she said with that golden smile. “It will all be explained in time. Don’t you know that a cold hand means the person has a warm heart?”
“Uh . . . yeah! Right. Whatever you say. Where are we going?”
“On a trip.”
Was the girl nuts? “A trip. No, I can’t. I’m not supposed to leave the grounds.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Your parents will not know you have gone. While it may seem a long way and a long time to you, it will, in reality, be only a few moments. Please trust me, Johnny. I and my friends are on your side. Your’s and Jackie’s.”
“You know Jackie? How do you know Jackie? Where is she?”
“She is with Randolph, who is advised by wolves. But she is quite safe. I cannot lie, Johnny. It is against all rules. Please believe me.” She tugged at his hand. “Come on.”
First crushing puppy love overrode all else. “OK. Let’s go.”
She squeezed his hand. “Close your eyes and do not open them until I tell you. That is very important. Remember, Johnny, do not open your eyes.”
Johnny sighed, and thought, what the heck? It’s just a dream, anyway. Might as well go all the way. “OK.”
“You will not be disappointed, Johnny. I promise you that.”
Before he could reply, he felt the words sucked out of his mouth. He felt a very odd sensation take control—no, that wasn’t the word—take possession of him. The boy had never flown, but he strongly suspected the feeling would be something quite like what he was now experiencing. He was tempted to open his eyes.
“No!” Anna’s voice came to him from what seemed so far away. He kept his eyes closed. “Do not open your eyes. Please. That is very important. We are almost there.”
Johnny kept his eyes tightly closed. The feeling of sailing slowly left him. He felt once more in control of his being. With his eyes tightly closed, he moved his feet. He felt solid ground under the soles of his tennis shoes.
“Now you may open your eyes,” Anna’s voice drifted to him. It still seemed far away.
Johnny opened his eyes and, in a way, he wished he had not. Wished he would hurry and wake up.
He was in a clearing, and in the clearing, seated in a half-circle, all of them facing him, sat nine young girls, all of them about Johnny’s age. They were all dressed in long gowns, all of them different colors. All the girls had that same ethereal quality that surrounded Anna. That aura of lightness and just-toogood-to-be-true trait. All of them very lovely, very fresh-looking.
“God!” Johnny breathed.
“No,” Anna said. “You will not meet Him this time.”
Johnny slowly turned his head to look at her. Astonishment marked his expression. Anna wore a serious look on her beautiful face. “Are you serious?” Johnny asked. “Yeah, I guess you are. What are you, an angel?”
“Not . . . quite,” she replied with a smile. “Come, Johnny. Meet my friends.”
“I’m dreaming all this, right? Tell me I’m dreaming all of this.”
“Yes and no,” she said, confusing the boy further. “I told you, I cannot tell a lie. You are meeting us, but you are not. I do not expect you to understand that.”
“You sure got that right.”
Anastasia laughed, and Johnny thought he had never heard a more beautiful laugh in all his life. It was like . . . like it came from another world, he finally put the words together.
“Close, Johnny,” she told him. “But we were all once like you. Remember that.” She took his hand in her cold hand. “Come, meet my friends who want to be your friends.”
Johnny allowed her to lead him toward the gathering of young girls.
* * *
In another part of the timber, but not all that far from the Bowers estate home, another meeting was taking place. There seemed to be nothing special about this meeting. It was merely a gathering of men and women who were the leaders of their cells. Their covens, if one wished to use that medieval word. Their cells were to be completely united for the first time ever. They would be coming under one leader for the first time since 1733, when Oglethorpe had established a colony on the Savannah River, primarily for debtors, most of them from England. Then, some of those debtors had run from the colony, fleeing into the dark timber, living much like animals in caves. Since they felt their God had deserted them, they had looked for something else to worship. And as they fled north and west from the new colony, which would one day be named Savannah, they had encountered a group of people who had fled years back from Salem. Finding something else to worship did not prove all that difficult. As a matter of fact, it had turned out to be easy.
Satan.
And the new people from the south of the country had also encountered strange-looking beings. They were told not to worry about the not-quite-human and not-quite-animal people. They had never bothered anyone; there was no reason to think they would start now. The strange people were neither friend nor foe—they were just there. Ignore them. Pe
rhaps someday those who worshipped the Dark One would find a use for them.
The man who had now been chosen to be the supreme leader of the united covens rose to his feet. “It is almost time,” he announced. “The intruders have not heeded our many warnings. But while they may be harmed, they must not be killed—for the time being. They may be marked, and that has already been done to the one who must pay the most. The others will be dealt with in time. And we have the time.”
“How much time?” he was asked.
“Until the end of summer. If they have not been driven out by then, they must meet the same fate as those who came before them.”
“That is probably the best way.”
“At this time, however, it is also the best way to draw attention to us,” the leader said. “And that is something we must avoid at all costs. And there is this: We must also take the all-seeing woman. She is a danger to us.”
“The summer is young.”
“And hot.”
* * *
Lucas woke from his sleep and eased from his wife’s side. He dressed and walked down the hall, looking in on Jackie and Johnny. They were both sleeping soundly. Then something caught his eyes as he looked into Johnny’s bedroom. Quietly, he stepped into the room and walked to where his son had tossed his jeans. Lucas picked them up. The cuffs were wet. Lucas looked closer. Bits of grass and seed clung to the bottom of the pant legs. He replaced the jeans on the chair and went into Jackie’s room. Since she had been wearing those damned indecent shorts, he inspected her tennis shoes. They were dew damp with fresh bits of grass clinging to them.
Then Lucas got angry. Mad. He slipped from the room, went into the kitchen, fixed coffee, then sat down and quietly fumed.
Calming himself, he thought that it wasn’t like them. It just wasn’t. It was all out of character. They had never disobeyed him so openly, so flagrantly. But while he was sleeping, they had both gone outside. Why did they do it? Why, especially after last night—why would they do it?
He sat drinking coffee and brooding until Tracy entered the kitchen.
Yawning, she looked at him and observed, “You look like Chief War Cloud. What’s the matter with you?”
He told her.
“Could you be mistaken?”
Rockinghorse Page 12
