The quiet sobs of the woman broke Mackenzie’s heart. Leaning forward, she said, “We’ll protect you, Tildy. I promise.”
“You’re so good to take me in. Things aren’t always as they appear in this world, you know.” Tildy lowered her voice in a conspiratorial manner.
“Yes, I know. Trust me. I’ve seen things that…” Mackenzie was at a loss for words. She felt foolish for even comparing her ghastly encounters with the wraiths to the terrible violence Tildy had experienced.
Grant set another sandwich and cup of coffee in front of Tildy. “Here you go.”
“Oh, God. I’m so grateful! To both of you! It’s been so long since I had a real meal of any kind. The more I die the harder it’s getting to shape anything useful.”
“That’s the aftereffect of death in this world,” Grant answered in a gentle voice.
“Unlike the aftereffect in the real world. You know, staying dead.” Tildy shook her head in agitation. “I wish I would stay dead. I wish I would stay dead so it would all just stop!”
Not knowing what to say, Mackenzie clutched the other woman’s hands while Tildy wept. Grant left them alone, and Mackenzie heard the old sofa in the living room squeak and the rustle of paper.
“You’re so sweet to take me in,” Tildy managed to say after a few minutes.
“I’m just doing what I can.”
“You’re new here, right? You can do all of this still.” Tildy’s eyes darted over the room.
“Yeah. I’ve only been here a day.”
“A day?” Tildy gaped at her. “A day! Then you still don’t know how bad it can get.”
“Probably not, though what I’ve gone through already is…” Mackenzie stopped herself. “It’s nothing compared to what you’re going through.”
“You have a much better handle on all this than I’ve ever had,” Tildy said in awe. “Look at this place! And you have that man with you, too. I just … I can’t make anything like this happen for me. I just run. I just always run.”
“You’re doing what you can,” Mackenzie said, trying to console her.
“I want to make it to the dream palaces, but I know they won’t let me in.” Tildy sighed, her eyes gleaming wetly. “I’m ruined. Broken.”
Mackenzie wondered what a dream palace was, and was about to ask when a creak on the floor drew their attention to the doorway to the living room. Grant stood there, his expression inscrutable. “We need to go. The rain has let up. To keep ahead of the Clown, we best get moving.”
“You don’t think we should let her clean up? Maybe get warm?” Mackenzie glanced at the forlorn woman worriedly. Tildy looked so bedraggled and afraid.
“Not if this Clown is after her. It’s better for us to move on than stay here.” Grant gave her a pointed look, but Mackenzie wasn’t sure what it meant. He disappeared into the living room.
Turning to Tildy, she saw the woman staring after Grant with a look of longing on her face. “I suppose you don’t need to travel to a dream palace. You can make your own.”
“I don’t under—”
“Let’s go!” Grant called out.
Mackenzie pushed out her chair and stood to help Tildy up. The woman was still violently shivering and clutching Grant’s jacket with her thin hands.
“I’m sorry to put you out like this, Mackenzie, but I just can’t bear to die again. Not so soon.”
“I understand,” Mackenzie said soothingly. “Don’t worry. We’ll help you. There are three of us against one of him.” Mackenzie hoped that would be enough. She wasn’t sure what it would be like to battle a living being in this terrible world.
“It’s better odds than I usually have,” Tildy said, forcing a smile onto her face. She wasn’t a pretty girl, but her smile was sweet.
Wrapping one arm around the woman’s shoulders, Mackenzie guided her out of the kitchen and into the living room. Grant stood in the doorway staring out at the drive that led to the road. “It’s clear. I don’t see anyone. We better get going.”
Opening the door, Grant exited onto the porch, scrutinizing the area before motioning for them to follow. Their footsteps thumped over the porch. Stepping into the knee-high wet grass, Mackenzie listened to the soft patter of water drops falling from the trees lining the drive. It was a peaceful sound that belied the danger of their situation.
Tildy’s feet were caked in mud, the straps of her leather sandals frayed and stained. The mud sucked at her feet and made it difficult for her to walk. Tildy didn’t complain, but soldiered on, her thin arms crossed over her chest, her elbows and shoulders sticking out sharply against the fabric of Grant’s jacket. Witnessing Tildy’s discomfort, Mackenzie wished she could bring along the objects she restored in the dead spots.
The world around them was hushed. Even the roar of the tornado spinning on the horizon was strangely muted. There wasn’t a breeze, but the air was crisp against Mackenzie’s face. Huddled in Grant’s jacket, Tildy slogged along behind the tall man with Mackenzie a step behind her.
When they arrived at the road, Grant spent a good minute or two scrutinizing the woods. Mackenzie and Tildy clustered close together watching and waiting for him to speak.
“Are we heading up toward Nacogdoches?” Tildy finally asked.
“We should keep heading south,” Grant said at last. “There is too much activity to the north and east.”
“You said there is somewhere safe for us to stay, right?” Mackenzie’s fingers lightly touched the knife she had tucked into the side pocket of her purse. Its presence was reassuring.
“There’s a motel somewhere up ahead,” Grant answered.
“Near the old amusement park. I hate that place.” Tildy pulled the jacket lapels, shivering from either the cool dampness in the air, or fear.
“An amusement park?” Mackenzie appealed to Grant with her eyes. “We can’t. Isn’t that like the perfect place for him to haunt?”
“This is the only road that will lead us away from where we have seen the worst activity today. There are hardly any towns or houses in this direction.” Grant tapped his walking stick against the pavement, his brow furrowed, and his expression frustrated. “I just don’t see how we have a choice.”
“He’s right.” Tildy’s voice was barely above a whisper. Her dark eyes shifted about, surveying the dark woods and the ominous clouds above. “Besides, that asshole could be anywhere. Excuse my language.”
“Nothing to excuse.” Mackenzie withdrew the knife from her purse and stared at its scorched blade. Could she actually use it to defend herself and her companions against someone she knew was not a wraith? She hadn’t thought twice about attacking the wraith imitating Tanner, but could she use the knife against an actual human being? Even if he was a serial killer? Deep within herself she knew the answer was that she could. Recognizing that aspect of herself made her uneasy.
Tildy’s fingers fluttered against the collar of Grant’s jacket, her eyes darting back and forth between Mackenzie’s face and the knife. “It won’t stop him, you know.”
“It might.” Mackenzie noted Tildy’s discomfort and tucked it into the pocket in the purse again. The last thing she wanted to do was upset the shivering woman even more.
“The best plan is to keep moving, make it past the amusement park, and find that motel. You can shape it so that it’ll be secure.” Grant’s voice was firm, decisive, and edged with annoyance. “We’ve taken on an additional risk so we need to move fast and get there by nightfall.”
“I can go it alone, you know,” Tildy said, her gaze pinned to the bit of road beneath her feet. It was clear she did not want to leave them, but her hunched shoulders and cowed posture conveyed clearly that she expected them to reject her. “I know how bad it is here. You don’t need to add to your woes by taking on mine.”
Taking a small step toward the other woman, Mackenzie gently rested her hand on Tildy’s shoulder. Lifting her chocolate brown eyes, Tildy stared at her expectantly.
“Grant and I will
help you. He’s been helping me since he found me and I’m going to help you. I can’t just abandon you.” Mackenzie shifted her eyes so she could view Grant over Tildy’s shoulder. He looked pained by her words.
Though it was clear Grant was upset about bringing Tildy with them, Mackenzie was certain he knew it was the right thing to do. No person should suffer at the hands of another. The need to protect Tildy battled with her own sense of self-preservation, yet how could she turn her back on someone in need? So many had turned their backs on her when she had needed them most.
With a reluctant sigh, Grant nodded his head. “It’s better to travel in a group, Tildy.”
“I can see you’re scared.” Tildy rubbed her nose, pivoting on one foot to focus her attention on Grant. “You and I know how bad it can be here. She doesn’t fully understand yet. She hasn’t died yet, has she?”
“No, and she won’t if I can help it.”
Grant’s vow created a warm glow of gratitude within Mackenzie.
Tears on her face, Tildy said, “I want your help. I do. I don’t want to face him alone again. But if you turn me away, I understand. I’ve been turned away many times.”
Grant tilted his head, regarding the frightened woman before him. “We have a long way to walk before nightfall. We’re wasting time.”
With that comment, Grant strode down the middle of the road at a brisk pace. Tildy smiled with relief and trudged along behind him. Mackenzie followed, not sure if they were doing the safe thing, but knowing they were doing the right thing. In the last few months she had often felt abandoned, alone, and very afraid. No, she hadn’t been at the horrific mercy of a clown serial killer, but she did know how it felt when the world no longer appeared to care if she existed. Tildy’s haunted eyes and fearful posture reminded her far too much of her own reflection in the mirror the last six months.
Mackenzie’s stomach was in knots and her knees felt weak. The buzzing wave of anxiety was building again and she feared it would wash over her. She wanted to believe she could fight off the serial killer, but she wasn’t sure. Months of neglect had taken its toll on her body. She wasn’t as strong as she had once been. Yet, her old strength of will was taking root and growing within her once again. For too long she’d been passive, allowing herself to be knocked about by the aftershocks of Joshua’s death. Upon reflection she could see that with each choice she had made, starting with the first one to get out of bed, she had been reclaiming her personal power. Even this most terrifying choice to help Tildy made her feel stronger.
The trio walked along the pockmarked road, splashing through the rainwater pooled in potholes and wide cracks in the asphalt. The lack of forest creatures scrounging around in the underbrush was disconcerting. The world felt strangely artificial, for even the hum of insects was absent. But, lost in her thoughts, Mackenzie was glad for the quiet.
After a mile, Mackenzie began to limp. The blisters forming on her heels, little toes, and the balls of her feet were starting to make it difficult to walk. The cute boots with the kitten heels had been an impulse buy after Tanner had left. She had fantasized about wearing them with supertight jeans and a sexy top to lure Tanner back into her arms, but instead they had sat in the box at the bottom of her closet until the night before she moved out. On impulse she had decided to wear them on her return journey to her hometown. Now she lamented that decision. If only she had worn more sensible sneakers or her cowboy boots.
“When we get to the hotel, I can check on your blisters,” Tildy offered, obviously noting Mackenzie’s increasing discomfort. “I know a little first aid from my time volunteering in a nursing home.”
“I’d really appreciate that.” Mackenzie smiled at the other woman with gratitude. She really did like Tildy. Her dark eyes seemed very earnest even if they were swollen and full of worry. It was pretty evident that she hadn’t been eating or sleeping well. The longer she studied Tildy, the clearer she saw the remains of the girl she once was. Beneath the puffy eyes and worry lines, she could see a pleasant-looking young woman in her twenties.
Tildy stared at her mud-caked feet and disintegrating sandals. “I didn’t make the wisest choice of shoes either. Though it’s not like we knew we were going to end up in this godforsaken place.”
“Life is full of unexpected events,” Grant said. He was several paces before them.
“Not the best thing to say in this world,” Mackenzie chided him.
Lifting one shoulder, Grant gave her a rueful smile. “Yes, but it’s the truth.”
CHAPTER 12
Exhaustion ate at Mackenzie while pain kept her alert. She dug a small bottle of Advil out of her purse and took three tablets when the agony in her feet became nearly unbearable. Swallowing them dry, Mackenzie was convinced one was stuck at the rear of her throat. She kept trying to dislodge it by coughing to no avail.
The sun occasionally peeked out from behind fluffy white clouds, but the thick cover was a godsend. Each time they plodded through a beam of direct sunlight, Mackenzie was convinced she was going to melt. The rays of the sun seared her exposed skin and made her jacket uncomfortably hot. Once the sun disappeared behind a cloud, the temperature dropped sharply. It wasn’t bitingly cold, but it was crisp and damp. The lack of breeze actually kept the temperature tolerable for Texas weather most of the time.
The stillness of the day was unnerving. The trees remained unmoving sentinels along the edge of the road throughout most of their journey. Sweat was pooling under her arms and beneath her breasts from the physical exertion. Grant’s white shirt was damp from perspiration and moisture beaded his upper lip and forehead. In contrast to Mackenzie and Grant, Tildy remained swathed in Grant’s suit jacket, shivering. Her lack of body fat probably made her susceptible to the cooler air, or maybe it was shock from all she had endured. Mackenzie felt for the other woman. She was so thin and fragile. They all reeked of body odor, but despite the lack of visible wounds, the scent of blood and death clung to Tildy.
The dark thoughts were a stark contrast to the beauty of the afternoon. If not for the gnawing fear in her gut, Mackenzie could fool herself into believing she was just out for a nice walk on a lovely day. Though the shadows in the woods were shrouded in an unnatural darkness, the travelers hadn’t seen anything peculiar since the stationary tornado had disappeared into the horizon.
“Sometimes it looks like the normal world, huh?” Tildy said, giving Mackenzie a shy smile.
“I was just thinking that,” Mackenzie admitted.
“I once was convinced I had made it out. For several hours everything was just so normal. No monsters, no weirdness. Just a beautiful spring day. I got all excited and headed home. I couldn’t wait to see my mother and father, my sisters and my brother. I even found a bike next to the side of the road and I made some good time.” The memory brought a sad smile to Tildy’s bluish lips. “When I reached my house, it looked just like I remembered.” As she lowered her eyes, tears caught in Tildy’s bottom lashes. “Then the Clown came and I knew I had been fooled.”
“I’m so sorry.” Mackenzie gave Tildy a quick side hug, careful not to upset her.
Tildy slightly flinched, but didn’t draw away. “Not much anyone can do about it, so no need to be sorry.”
“I guess I say sorry a lot.”
“My mama always said that people who apologize a lot want someone to apologize to them.”
The comment stung, but it held a kernel of truth. “You have a smart mama.”
Tildy’s face shadowed with deep sadness. “Yes. I do.”
“We’re getting closer to the amusement park.” Grant glanced at the two women, then gestured ahead toward a Ferris wheel peeking out over the treetops.
“Can we try cutting around it?” The strain in Tildy’s voice and the stiffness in her posture were clear indications of her fear.
Stopping in his tracks, Grant turned to face them, his one hand holding his walking stick at his side like a weapon. “If we go into the woods, it’s darker, h
arder to see what’s coming, more difficult to escape.”
“But we could hide easier, right?” Tildy’s fingers fumbled with the collar of the jacket, nervously tugging on it. Her eyes darted toward the hulk of metal. “Easier than being right in the open, right?”
“How many times did he find you when you hid?” Grant stared at Tildy steadily, waiting for an answer.
Mackenzie was annoyed at his tone, but understood his point. Pensively, she examined their surroundings. An enormous field filled with wild grasses was to the right and a fenced-in pasture to the left. There was a distinct absence of cows, or any other animals loitering in the open. Ahead the forest flowed to the shoulders of the road, covering the passage in a thick canopy. Beyond the trees the forlorn peak of a roller coaster rose beside the top of the Ferris wheel.
Rocking side to side, Tildy let his question linger in the air.
“Well?” Grant lifted his thick eyebrows.
Tildy cowered under his gaze, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip.
“How big is this amusement park?” Mackenzie poked Grant in the shoulder, drawing his attention away from the skinny woman.
“We should be able to get past that dead spot fairly quickly if we don’t divert by heading into the woods and stick to the road.”
In a strangely matter-of-fact voice, Tildy said, “It’s not really big. It went out of business in the seventies. I remember I came here as a kid with my folks. It was a huge disappointment. I was hoping for something like Six Flags, but it was just a rinky-dink roller coaster, Ferris wheel, and kiddie rides.” Tildy shivered in Grant’s jacket. “He threw me from the top of the roller coaster once.”
“Is this his territory?” Mackenzie slid her hand into her purse, touching the knife for reassurance.
Tildy laughed bitterly. “Honey, this whole world is his territory. I once got as far as Kansas before he snatched me.”
“How long have you been in here?” Mackenzie took a good look at her companion. Her blond hair had dried into a feathered hairstyle that ended just above her shoulders; her dress and sandals had a retro look to them.
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