Wil returned to the car a few minutes later. He opened Samantha’s door and leaned down, one hand resting on the frame.
“Would you come with me for a minute?”
“Why?” Samantha said. “I thought . . .”
“There’s something I want you to see,” Wil said. “Don’t worry. He obviously isn’t home.”
Samantha looked up and down the block. Several children were playing in the street about halfway up, and a man was mowing his lawn.
“Won’t the neighbors be suspicious?”
Wil went to his trunk, opened it, and pulled out a package wrapped in brown paper. He took out a pen and quickly scribbled Henley’s address on the blank label.
“We’re making a delivery,” he said.
“What’s in the box?” Julie asked.
“Nothing at all,” Wil said with a wink.
Samantha got out of the car. Julie tried to follow her, but Wil put a firm hand on her shoulder.
“You wait here, honey,” he said. “I need a lookout.”
Julie looked disappointed, but she sat back again. Wil shut the door and took Samantha by the arm. He escorted her up the driveway to the back of the house.
“When you told me about Julie’s ordeal in the hospital,” he said, “you spoke of a glass box.”
“Julie seemed to feel she’d been trapped in one,” Samantha said.
They’d reached the back of the house. Wil crouched down, pushing at an unlocked basement window.
“Look inside.”
Samantha did so. It was a few moments before her eyes adjusted to the darkness, but when they did, she gasped. There on the floor, near a table saw, tool bench, and water heater, lay a pod-shaped box. The top, made of glass, lay broken in large pieces around the floor. The bottom seemed to be made of wood. Wires had been ripped out of it and a small control panel hung loosely from the front.
“Julie’s glass box,” Samantha whispered. She looked at Wil. “But why does it look like it’s moving?”
Wil ran a hand through the spiky strands of his hair.
“I can’t imagine,” he said. “There may be bugs on it. . .”
“Oh . . .” Samantha felt sickened to imagine Julie had been held prisoner in that coffinlike apparatus. Because that’s exactly what it looked like: a glass-topped coffin.
Wil stood up. “Come on, we’re going inside.”
“But that’s illegal!” Samantha cried.
“So’s kidnapping and child abuse,” Wil said. He fished through his pockets and produced a small bag.
Samantha followed him up the stairs to the back door. He took out a tool, fidgeted with the lock, and within moments gained entry to the kitchen. Samantha held back at the doorway.
“Come on,” Wil said. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
“What if Henley comes back?”
“He has a hell of a lot more explaining to do than we have,” Wil said. “Try not to touch anything. We don’t want to leave fingerprints.”
He looked around the kitchen, but didn’t touch anything. Samantha was also careful to keep her hands to herself. In the living room Wil went directly to a table laden with family pictures.
“Anybody here look familiar?” he asked.
Samantha looked down.
“No, not at all,” she said.
“Let’s take a closer look at that pod,” Wil said. “We might get a better idea what it was used for.”
The entry to the basement was just outside the kitchen. Wil used a handkerchief to open the door and switch on the light. Samantha followed him down the wooden staircase, trying hard not to touch the banister.
“Over there,” Wil said.
“You know, Julie must be getting worried,” Samantha said.
“We’ve only been a few minutes,” Wil told her. “I think it’s important that you see this.”
He knelt down near the box, studying it carefully. The gnarls of wood really did seem to be moving, but only for a moment. Wil rubbed his eyes, letting them adjust better to the dim lighting. Samantha moved to the other side and did the same.
“It’s too strange for me to figure out,” she said.
“Julie would probably know what it was.”
Samantha glared at him over the rim.
“No way,” she said. “You aren’t bringing that child in here.”
“I didn’t plan to,” Wil reassured her. He got back up again and began to search the basement.
“What are you looking for?”
“Some sign she was down here,” Wil said. “Evidence he was holding her prisoner before he turned her over to you.”
“He sounds like a maniac,” Samantha said worriedly. “Wil, please, I don’t want to be here any—”
She had been walking toward him as she spoke, but her words were cut off when she stumbled over something lying on the floor. She backed up and cried out in dismay. Wil hurried to her and knelt back down to look at the body Samantha had discovered. It was dressed in a workshirt, khaki trousers, and workboots. The shadows obscured the features, but they knew at once who it must be.
“Henley,” Samantha whispered.
Wil went to the tool bench and found a flashlight. When the beam filled in the shadows, Samantha had to suppress a cry. The face they saw, screaming silently, was a mass of red. Facial muscles were so plainly exposed that Samantha could identify each one individually. The eyes were round and staring.
“My God, he must have been burned by something,” she said in a choking voice.
“What could take the skin off a man and leave the flesh?” Wil wanted to know.
He, too, felt sickened at the hideous corpse. Wil had seen death many times in his years as a cop and detective, but never anything like this. There was something strange about it, beyond the missing skin. It took Wil only a moment to realize what it was.
“There’s no blood,” he whispered. “It’s like he was skinned alive, but . . .”
“Let’s get out of here,” Samantha begged.
“Agreed,” Wil said. He took Samantha’s hand and walked back upstairs with her. Outside, they took a moment to collect themselves.
“What’s going on?” Samantha asked in a quiet voice.
“I sure as hell don’t know yet,” Wil told her. “Henley was murdered, that’s obvious. But I can’t imagine how it was done so . . . cleanly.”
Samantha looked at the basement window.
“To think Julie might have been down there.”
“She’s safe with you,” Wil said. “Come on, let’s go back home again. We aren’t going to learn anything here.”
They started for the car.
“Get the scared look out of your eyes,” Wil ordered. “You don’t want Julie asking a lot of questions.”
Samantha breathed in deeply, gave Wil’s hand a tight squeeze, then held her head high. By the time she reached the car, she was smiling.
“What took you guys so long?”
“Oh, the man was home after all,” Wil said quickly. “He wanted to chat a bit.”
Wil and Samantha got back in the car and drove off. Bored with drawing, Julie put her head down on the seat. The instant she closed her eyes, a horrifying image filled her mind. She saw a man lying on a floor, his skin hideously peeled away. Julie sat up straight and stared at the back of Samantha’s head.
“That man is dead, isn’t he?”
Samantha gasped. Wil’s head jerked up, a surprised look reflected in the rearview mirror.
“Julie, how do you know that?” Samantha asked. She had been unable to get an image of Henley’s body from her mind.
“I just . . . know. Is it true?”
Samantha sighed, looking at Wil. He nodded slightly.
“I’m afraid so,” Samantha said. “We found him in his basement. We don’t know how it happened.”
Julie looked down at her lap.
“I didn’t do it.”
“Nobody said you did!” Samantha cried.
“Of co
urse not,” Wil agreed. “Honey, you couldn’t possibly have done what happened to that man.”
“What happened?”
“He was . . .” Samantha paused.
“He was beaten,” Wil said. “A little girl like you couldn’t do that to a big man like Henley.”
Samantha thought for a few moments, then said, “You know, his death may have nothing to do with us. Maybe he was in trouble.”
Wil nodded. “That’s right. He could have owed money to someone.”
Julie didn’t say anything for the rest of the drive. She knew they were just trying to make her feel better. She no longer had any desire to play or look out at the scenery, so she put her head down again in an attempt to fall asleep.
Marty’s voice filled her mind a few moments later.
I know what happened to him.
He sounded as if he were shouting from the other end of a long tunnel. Julie stirred, but didn’t open her eyes or sit up.
Hello, Marty. What happened to him?
He was . . . touching something he shouldn’t have. But we can’t be certain no one else knew his secret.
What secret?
I can’t tell you. But it’s time for you to come to us, Julie. The others are on their way. You are farthest from us, and therefore your journey will be the most difficult.
I’m not leaving Samantha!
But she lied to you!
She didn’t lie. She just . . . just didn’t say everything. She’s trying to protect me.
Julie, she can’t protect you. You must join with the other children, or we’ll all die!
I’m not listening to you! I’m not going to die!
Come with us, Julie. You must come with us! You must come . . .
Julie sat up abruptly, shaking Marty’s voice out of her mind. He tried calling her, but she refused to answer him.
Samantha looked over the back of the seat. Julie was staring straight ahead, her lips pressed together.
“What’s the matter, sweetie?” Samantha asked. “You didn’t have another bad dream, did you?”
Julie shook her head. Samantha smiled kindly at her, and turned her eyes back to the road.
It was very late by the time they arrived home, and Julie announced she was tired. She went upstairs to her room and lay on the bed. She hadn’t given Henley much thought, but now she tried as hard as she could to bring him into her mind. But try as she might, she couldn’t conjure him up. Instead, a shadowy but familiar image appeared.
Julie?
Go away, Marty. I’m thinking.
You’re thinking about Henley. He really has nothing to do with us.
He does! You aren’t telling me everything.
There was a long pause. Julie imagined Marty was considering his answer.
All right. There is more. Do you remember how you were scared by the box in the hospital?
Uh-huh.
Henley had a box.
Julie gasped out loud.
The box I dreamed about?
Maybe. But there’s danger there for you, Julie. Don’t you see? You have to listen to me and believe that the only safe place for you is here!
Where . . . where are you?
There is water all around us. I can see land in the distance, but I don’t know what it is.
Then how will I find you?
First, you must find the others who are coming. There are only two in this area. One is a boy. His name is Steven and he was living with a family in Columbus, Ohio. He began his journey a short while ago. They mean to hurt us, Julie. But we must work together to fight them.
I’m tired, Marty. I’m tired and scared.
She turned onto her side and wrapped her arms around a stuffed animal.
There is no other way to survive. Sleep now, Julie. In the morning I will help you on your way.
And then there was silence in Julie’s mind. Silence filled with the painful stress of making a very, very difficult decision.
33
NEARLY THREE THOUSAND miles from Colorado, completely unaware that Lorraine wasn’t the only one of her kind, Joe Trefíll sat in the motel room and stared at the sleeping child. She’d come awake briefly a few hours earlier, just after they’d arrived. She sat on her bed in silence, staring at him with those weird olive-colored eyes of hers. Creepy eyes, Joe thought. It was like she could read everything in your brain. He had wanted to slap her, to make her stop staring. Then he remembered the whole reason he’d rented this room for two days was to give her head wound time to heal. He was grateful when her eyelids began to flutter and she fell back on the bed, asleep again.
Trefill was sitting sideways in one of the room’s two chairs, feet propped up on the dresser. An old John Wayne western was on the television, one with a box that promised the latest in movies after the insertion of a certain number of quarters. He had bought a package of peanuts from the vending machine at the end of the building, and now he sat eating them one by one. He’d have to get dinner at some point, he supposed, though he hadn’t managed to figure out how he’d do it without someone spotting him.
Damned pain in the neck. Why had she run away, anyway? He hadn’t hurt her or threatened her in any way. It was those hoodlums in the city. Or maybe it was the gunshot he’d fired off. It didn’t matter. Lorraine had run away, and had been taken in for a few days by that old lady. Trefill was glad she’d died. At least no one could identify him.
He crumpled up the peanut bag, tossed it at the waste-basket, and missed. He didn’t bother to pick it up. Instead, he swung himself off the chair and went to the night table. He pulled out a telephone book and opened it to the Yellow Pages. No particular kind of food appealed to him, but he decided on Chinese because that was the nearest place.
Not wanting the hassle of bringing Lorraine with him, he went into the bathroom and found a large towel. Taking a knife from his pocket, he made slits in the tightly woven ends and then ripped the towel into four equal strips. He carried these into the bedroom.
Lorraine was awakened by the feel of someone pulling at her legs. She tried to sit up, but found she couldn’t move. She stared at Trefill as he tied her to the bed with strips of white towel. A strange taste of wet terrycloth made her realize he’d gagged her with a washcloth.
She glared at him, as she’d done before, but he didn’t look back. He went about tying her without a word. She’d tried earlier to bring the monster back, the one Marty said she’d created to scare the landlord. She glared, fire burning in her mind, fury making her turn red. Where was the monster? Why couldn’t she stop this man?
Where was Marty?
The effort had been too much after her head injury. She’d passed out cold again.
Trefill straightened up. “That ought to hold you. I’m going out for Chinese food. I’ll be back in half an hour or so. Don’t even think about causing trouble. You think I was lying about this being official government business? I wasn’t. And there are people backing me up every step of the way. They’re watching the building right now. So if you’re a bad little girl and you try to run away, you’ll be caught and punished. Understand?”
Lorraine simply glowered at him.
“Be good,” Trefill said.
Then he was out the door.
Lorraine struggled against the ties, but they were much too tight. So she lay back and closed her eyes and tried to call Marty. To her surprise, this time he answered.
Where were you? she demanded. I need help!
I’m sorry. Sometimes . . . sometimes they do things to me and I can’t communicate.
Lorraine moaned, the sound muffled by the gag in her mouth. She stared up at the ceiling and tried to picture her captor in another setting. But she couldn’t. She only knew she was terrified of him.
Marty, what am I going to do?
You have to get away from him.
I can’t! He has me tied up! I tried and tried to make a monster come, like in the apartment, but I couldn’t
You are too young to
work on your own. You need the combined strength of other minds. I will help you this time, and you’ll succeed.
Lorraine did not answer right away. She wriggled a little, trying to get comfortable. Then she thought to Marty:
What were they doing to you?
They put a needle into me. It has some kind of strange medicine inside and it makes me feel weird. I can’t communicate when that happens.
Are they going to do that to me?
They aren’t going to catch you. When we are all together, we’ll be too strong for them.
When are we going to be together?
Soon. You’re so close now . . .
At that moment the door opened. Instinctively afraid of Trefill, Lorraine cut off all thoughts to Marty. She stared at the man as he set up cartons of Chinese food on the dresser.
Wait until he unties you. Be ready . . .
Lorraine was too nervous to answer him. Trefill came to the bed and began to unfasten her ties. She wiggled into a sitting position and tried to pull the gag from her mouth. Trefill grabbed her wrist.
“Don’t misbehave,” he said. “You leave that alone for a minute.”
Lorraine stared at him. He began opening the containers. She could smell the food from across the room, and realized she was famished.
“I didn’t know what to get you,” Trefill said, “but I figured you’d like lo mein. Most kids I know do. Now, I’m gonna take off your gag and give you something to eat. Don’t even think of screaming. No one is near enough to hear you, and I’ll get mad. You won’t like me if I get mad.”
He pulled out the gag. Lorraine gasped, sticking her tongue out to get rid of the horrible taste of wet washcloth. Then she took the food container and began to eat. Trefill parked himself in front of the TV, his back to her. He switched on the news.
The weather reporter was just finishing his promise of rain. Lorraine was watching a commercial about dog food when Marty came into her mind again.
The time has come to get rid of him. Think, Lorraine.
Instantly Lorraine recalled what had happened to the hoods in the subway and to the landlord. She directed her full thoughts toward Trefill, staring hard at him.
Trefill’s hand came up to the back of his head and brushed as if to get rid of a fly. But the sensation that something was touching him wouldn’t go away. He turned quickly and shot Lorraine a warning look, but the child only glowered at him. Freaky little bitch, he thought.
Cries of the Children Page 19
