Secret Histories yrj-1

by F. Paul Wilson

  “We areprisoners, Jack. I’m thinking that real state troopers would have sent us home. We didn’t commit a crime, so why are we locked up in a cop

  car?”

  Good question, Jack thought. He felt his mouth going dry. Suddenly being grounded didn’t seem so bad.

  “Maybe—” He had to clear his throat. “Maybe they don’t want us going home and talking about it and bringing a bunch of people back before they’re

  through.”

  “Let’s hope so,” she said. “I’m just worried they might not want anyone ever talking about this.”

  Eddie started working his handle again. “It’s getting stuffy in here.” He sounded panicky.

  Weezy leaned toward Jack and lowered her voice. “He doesn’t like enclosed places. It’s cal ed—”

  “Claustrophobia—I know. I may not know ‘gravitas,’ but I know that.”

  “I didn’t say you didn’t.”

  They fel into silence; the only sound was Eddie’s continuous rattling of his door handle. Jack’s mind raced. They had to get out of this car. But how?

  Possibilities popped into his head but he tossed them out one after another as unworkable. And then …

  He grabbed Weezy’s arm as a plan leaped ful -blown into his head.

  “Wait! Eddie, can you fake getting sick—I mean, puke-type sick?”

  “If I’m cooped up in here much longer I won’t haveto fake it.”

  “Great. Look sick.”

  Jack began rapping on his window. The trooper stood a few feet away with his back to them, arms folded across his chest, watching the excavation. He

  didn’t turn. He might have been ignoring them, but most likely couldn’t hear them over the racket.

  Jack began pounding on the glass with his fists.

  Weezy said, “Jack, you’re going to break it.”

  “I wish.”

  No way he could break auto glass with his bare hands—which were starting to hurt from the impacts.

  Final y the trooper turned. His expression turned from bored to annoyed when he saw Jack pounding. After a few seconds of hesitation he walked over

  and yanked open the door—not al the way, just a foot or so.

  “What the hel do you think you’re doing?”

  Jack jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Eddie. “He’s getting sick! He’s gonna puke!”

  Right on cue, Eddie retched.

  “Oh, no, he’s not!” the trooper said, eyes widening. “Not in any car I’m driving!”

  As Jack watched him slam the door and hurry around the rear to Eddie’s side, a question nibbled at his brain. Wouldn’t a real trooper have said “my

  car”?

  When he reached Eddie’s door he pul ed it open and yanked him out.

  “If you’re gonna puke,” he said, pointing Eddie away from the car, “you do it out here.” He turned and jabbed a finger and Jack and Weezy. “Don’t get

  any ideas.”

  As soon as he turned away, Jack crawled over Weezy.

  She gasped. “What are you—?”

  “Shhh!”

  He stretched out across her lap, reaching for the edge of the half-open door, then hesitated. The trooper was behind Eddie, holding a fistful of the back

  of his T-shirt to make sure he didn’t try to run. But if he happened to reach back and slam it closed with Jack’s hand there, it could be bye-bye fingers.

  Let’sjusthopethey’rereallygoingtoletusgo…

  Do it!

  He stretched his arm to the limit, ran his fingers along the rear of the door edge until he found the little toggle switch. He pushed it up—no go. But a

  downward push clicked it into a new position—the unlocked position, he hoped.

  He straightened up and looked out the rear window. He could see Eddie bent over, retching, putting on a great show.

  “C’mon, kid. Get it over with.”

  Eddie glanced up over the trunk and Jack gave him a thumbs-up. Eddie straightened and wiped his face with his shirt.

  “I feel better now.”

  “You’d better be sure,” the trooper said. “You mess up that car, there’l be hel to pay.”

  “No, real y. I’m okay. I just don’t like being cooped up.”

  “Wel , get used to it. You’re gonna be there awhile.”

  He guided Eddie back into the rear seat and slammed the door, then walked back around the car. He checked the door on Jack’s side to make sure it

  was latched, then wandered away toward the excavation.

  Eddie pul ed on his door handle. The door unlatched.

  “Hey! It opens!”

  “Keep it closed!” Jack said.

  “Why? I thought—”

  Jack pointed to the light in the ceiling above their heads. “That goes on when the door’s open. We’ve got to make this fast and time it just right.”

  He checked out the trooper. He was maybe a hundred feet away, talking to the guy in the suit. Both had their backs turned.

  Now or never.

  “Okay. When I give the word, Eddie opens the door, we al dive out, stay low, and run into the bushes. We’l circle around to the bikes and get our butts

  back home. Everyone okay with that?”

  Weezy was staring out the window. “I wish I knew if they were finding anything.”

  Jack waved a hand in front of her face. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No. I real y want to know.” She looked at him. “But I real y want out of this car too. So let’s go home.”

  That was a relief. For a minute there he’d been afraid she’d want to stay.

  “Okay. Get ready, Eddie. I’l tel you when.”

  Jack fixed his gaze on the trooper and the suit … waiting … waiting …

  And then pine lights appeared, half a dozen of them, swirling above and around the helicopters. Jack had seen a couple once. No one knew what they

  were—bal lightning, some people said—but every so often they appeared, varying from basebal to basketbal size, skimming along the treetops.

  What had drawn them here? The light? The noise?

  Everyone around the excavation stopped what they were doing to point and look up, and then Jack realized his time had come.

  “Now!”

  Eddie opened the door and tumbled out, Weezy close behind him. Jack brought up the rear and swung the door closed—enough to turn out the light but

  not enough to latch it. With al the racket from the helicopters he probably could have slammed it with no risk of anyone hearing, but didn’t want to risk it.

  So he leaned his shoulder against it until he felt the latch catch.

  He turned and saw Eddie in a low crouch, disappearing into the brush a few feet away. But Weezy stood tal , gazing in awe at the pine lights.

  “Look, Jack! I’ve seen one or a pair at a time, but six—never six!”

  “Worry about them later. Let’s go!”

  He grabbed her arm and pul ed her into the brush.

  Fifty feet or so into the woods the excavation site disappeared behind them and it was safe to walk upright.

  “Did you see them?” Weezy said. “Six pine—”

  She broke off, whirled, and put a hand over Jack’s mouth. Eddie’s too.

  “Don’t move,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

  Jack froze. What? Had she seen or heard something?

  And then Jack saw it—a dark shape slinking among the pines. If it was a man, it didn’t move like one. A breeze carried its sour odor their way and the

  smel made Jack break out in a sweat. Al his instincts screamed Run!but he held his position. The shape slunk toward the excavation area. About a

  dozen feet short of the fire trail it stopped and crouched among the brush and trees, watching.

  Who or what it was, Jack couldn’t tel , and didn’t want to know.

  The excavation seemed to be attracting a lot of attention from things that came out only at night.

 
Weezy removed her hands and signaled them to fol ow her. She moved slowly and quietly away from the watcher and the excavation. The farther they

  got, the faster she moved. Cutting quickly through the brush and weaving among the trees on a curving course that seemed to be taking them away from

  the fire trail and their bikes. But Jack said nothing. He didn’t see much choice but to trust her sense of direction.

  He was lost.

  5

  Just when he thought they’d never find their way out, when he was convinced they’d wind up like those hunters who entered the Barrens and never

  returned, they stepped out of the trees onto a fire trail.

  But which fire trail?

  Jack’s heart leaped as he watched Weezy hurry across to where three bikes leaned against the trees.

  Yes!

  He dashed after her.

  “What was that thing in the woods?”

  “I don’t know. A big piney maybe.”

  “Th-that was the Jersey Devil!” Eddie said. “I just know it!”

  Weezy, who bought into every other weird thing, had never bought into the JD.

  She looked at Jack as they pul ed their bikes back onto the trail. “I don’t believe you got us out of that car.”

  “I don’t believe you led us right back to the bikes. We make a pretty good team.”

  She laughed and punched him on the shoulder. “You kidding? We make a great team.”

  The way she said it sparked a flood of warmth inside him, but it didn’t last. Nerves doused it. They had to get out of here.

  No one needed to speak again. They al knew what to do, and where they were going.

  Once they were moving toward Johnson, with the sound of the copters fading behind them, Jack’s heart began to ease its pounding.

  He glanced over his shoulder. No sign of headlights.

  They’d made it.

  Wel , not completely. Not yet, anyway.

  They’d be home free if the trooper remained where they’d left him. If he just stayed put, watching those pine lights, he wouldn’t know they were gone. He

  could look al he wanted, but from that distance he couldn’t see into the dark interior of his cruiser. As far as he knew, they couldn’t open the doors, so he’d

  assume the “dumb piney kids” were right where he’d left them.

  Another over-the-shoulder look—stil no headlights.

  Jack wished he could have hung around to see the look on that suit’s face when he found out they were gone.

  Where’s your sneer now?

  They were passing the trapper’s spong. Great. Halfway home. He took another look behind and—

  He almost lost control of the bike when he saw a pair of headlights bouncing down the trail, coming their way.

  He looked around. Even though a car could go only so fast without bottoming out on these undulating trails, it could stil beat a bike. No way they could

  outrun it.

  “Hey!” he shouted to the others. “They’re after us!”

  He heard a frightened whine from Eddie and Weezy cry, “Faster!”

  “No! Pul off the trail and hide the bikes!”

  “They’l catch us for sure!” Eddie wailed.

  “Maybe, maybe not. I don’t think they’ve seen us yet. But they wil if we stay on the trail.”

  Weezy angled into a stand of pines at the far edge of the spong clearing. Jack and Eddie fol owed, hauling their bikes into the brush and laying them

  flat.

  “Tires toward the trail,” Jack said.

  Eddie obeyed but asked, “Why?”

  “Because tires are black.”

  “Oh, no,” Weezy said. “I’ve got reflectors on my spokes.”

  “Do they pop off?”

  “They’re screwed on.”

  Not good.

  “Okay,” Jack said, “we’ve got to get away from the bikes.” He pointed to another copse of pines at the other end of the clearing. “There!”

  Eddie’s gaze was fixed on the approaching headlights. “But that’s going toward them!”

  Weezy pushed her brother from behind. “Exactly. The last direction they’l expect us to go.”

  Keeping low, they dashed for the copse and crouched among the trunks, panting, waiting. Jack’s bladder was sending urgent signals that it wanted to

  empty. He did his best to ignore it.

  He saw the wavering glow from the headlights grow brighter as the cruiser bounced closer. Final y it pul ed into view.

  “Move along,” he whispered, wishing he knew how to use the Force. “Move along. Nothing of interest here.”

  If the cruiser passed the hidden bikes without seeing them, it would keep going, and Weezy, Eddie, and Jack could fol ow it at a distance, keeping it

  wel ahead of them.

  The cruiser bounced closer to the bikes … came even with them …

  “Keep moving,” Jack whispered. “Keep moving—”

  The brake lights came on. The car stopped. Went into reverse. Backed up paral el to the stand of trees.

  “Oh-no, oh-no, oh-no,” Eddie whimpered.

  “Hush!” Weezy said, then looked at Jack. “Had to be those reflectors on my spokes—sorry.”

  He was about to tel her it couldn’t be helped when a spotlight beamed from the cruiser onto the bikes. The car backed up farther, the light shining into

  the spong clearing, then arcing toward their copse.

  “Down!” Jack said.

  They flattened themselves on the ground just before the beam swept over them. The beam swung back again, then remained fixed on their spot.

  “Don’t even breathe!” Weezy whispered.

  As Jack lay frozen he felt something moving on his left forearm. His first impulse was to snatch it away, but that might give away their location. Slowly he

  angled his head until he could see. The reflected glow from the spotlight revealed a good-sized snake, big around as a plump hot dog, slithering over his

  arm. Fighting the instinctive urge to throw it off, he held his breath and stayed stil . He couldn’t see the head, but its body was mostly black with a white

  center stripe and yel ow-orange stripes along the flanks.

  It’s okay, he told himself. Just a garter snake … a harmless garter snake.

  He’d caught and played with dozens when he was younger. This was a big one, but just as harmless as the little ones.

  That didn’t keep him from breaking out in a cold sweat.

  It kept moving and soon was gone, wriggling toward the spong.

  The search beam moved away just then, giving Jack two reasons for a relieved release of the breath he’d been holding. But he stayed put until he

  heard voices.

  Raising his head he saw the trooper and the suit standing by the cruiser’s open driver door as they beamed the searchlight back and forth across the

  clearing. He wished he could make out what they were saying.

  Leaving the light trained on the spong, they stepped into the stand of trees where the bikes were hidden. They pul ed out Weezy’s and Eddie’s and

  wheeled them around to the rear of the cruiser.

  “My bike!” Eddie whispered.

  The trunk popped open, and then it became clear: They were taking the bikes.

  “What are we gonna do?” Eddie said. “We can’t let them—”

  Weezy nudged him. “We’re going to stay here until they’re gone, then we’re going to have to walk home.”

  “That’l take forever. And that’s my racer!”

  “Better than what might happen if they catch us,” she said.

  Jack didn’t know about that, but he felt a surge of anger as he watched them throw Weezy’s bike into the trunk. Then Eddie’s. His would be next. How

  was he going to explain the loss of his BMX?