glowing through the canvas and around the entrances, but a couple of the tents were already dark.
Matt tilted his head back and looked up at the stars. To creatures with the short life spans of humans, they seemed unchanging. And they were merciless, he thought, shining down on good and evil alike. Maybe
The stars just didn't give a damn about what happened on this puny planet. Being out here like this made Matt uncomfortably aware of just how tiny the denizens of this world really were.
Tiny, maybe, but important enough for Mr. Dark to screw with their lives, for reasons of his own that Matt couldn't yet begin to fathom.
He was thinking about that when loud, angry words came from the other side of the camp and shattered the night's hush.
'Back off, dude, or I'll rip your fuckin' heart out!'
CHAPTER SIX
Matt dropped off the tailgate and hurried toward the sound of the disturbance. He heard a voice he recognized as belonging to Jerry Schultz saying, 'Hey, take it easy, man. I just want to talk to April.'
'She's got nothing to say to you, and she's not interested in anything you have to say.'
'Well, I . . . I'd like to hear her tell me that herself.'
Several other people had emerged from their tents in response to the commotion, including Ronnie, Varley, and Hammond, whose rotting visage was horrifying in the dim light, bad enough that it would have made a normal person run away screaming.
Matt, for good or ill, was no longer a normal person, of course. And even he flinched inside when he looked at Hammond.
Everyone gathered around a tent where Scott Conroy and Jerry stood facing each other in angry confrontation.
Actually, Jerry looked more scared than angry, Matt thought as he came up to the two young men. Enough light spilled through the tent's entrance for him to get a good look at them. The flap that normally covered the opening was thrown back. Matt saw April inside, sitting on a sleeping bag with her knees pulled up and her arms around them. She had her head down, as if she didn't want to see what was happening just outside the tent.
'What's going on here?' Varley demanded. 'I heard shouting.'
'It's nothing important, Dr. Varley,' Scott said. 'Just somebody nosing around where he's not wanted anymore.'
Jerry swallowed. He was a little bigger than Scott but a lot softer. But as Matt watched, he saw Jerry's determination overcome his fear.
'I still haven't heard that from April herself,' Jerry said. 'You don't speak for her, Scott. I just want to talk to her.'
'You've talked to her enough.'
Hammond said, 'We have important work to do out here. Very important work. We didn't come all this way just for you people to play adolescent games!'
Even though Hammond looked like a walking corpse, he was still a stuffy, pompous windbag, Matt thought.
'Sorry, Dr. Hammond,' Jerry muttered. 'I just want to talk to April for a minute; that's all.'
'Oh, for—' Hammond stopped and looked through the tent's open flap. 'Milligan, if that's what it'll take to put an end to this idiocy, get out here and talk to this fat cocksucker!'
The others stared at him, including Matt. Most of them seemed shocked. After a couple of seconds, Ronnie said, 'Andrew, I'm not sure that's really the best—'
'I'm sorry,' Hammond broke in. 'It's just been a long day, and I'm tired.' He summoned up an insincere smile. 'Sorry, Jerry. I didn't mean anything by it.'
'That's . . . uh . . . that's all right, Dr. Hammond,' Jerry said.
Still smiling, Hammond held out a hand toward the tent. 'April, if you would . . .'
Slowly, she crawled out of the tent and stood up. As she put a hand on Conroy's arm, she said, 'It'll be all right, Scott. I'm fine, really.'
'I just didn't want him upsetting you even more,' Scott said.
April looked around. 'Please, everyone, just go on about your business. We all need our rest.'
'That's right,' Varley said. 'We'll be digging early in the morning.'
As the crowd began to scatter, April faced Jerry. 'Say what you have to say,' she told him.
Jerry looked around. 'Can't we have some privacy?'
'Scott can hear anything you have to say to me.'
'Then it's true? The two of you really . . . really are back together?'
'That's right. I'm sorry, Jerry, but you never really trusted me, and because of that, you kept pushing me away.'
Matt started drifting back toward the truck. The way this was going, somebody was going to start saying 'XOXO' any minute, and he didn't want to hear it.
One of the other grad students fell in beside him. 'Almost had a good show back there, didn't we?' the guy said.
Matt glanced over at him, trying to recall his name. Rankin—that was it, he thought. Rick or Rich Rankin; Matt wasn't sure.
'Yeah, I guess,' he said.
'Poor April's bound to lose either way.'
'How do you mean?' Matt asked.
'Well, she's way out of Jerry's league. She'd be lowering herself to hook up with him. And Scott . . . well, Scott's just trying to convince himself that he's not gay. That's a losing battle. Believe me,
'Okay,' Matt said. He didn't care who coupled with whom among this bunch, but listening to Rankin was probably the easiest way to get him to go on his way.
'He'll figure it out sooner or later,' Rankin said. 'Good night, Mr. Cahill.'
'Good night,' Matt said. Rankin veered off toward one of the tents, and Matt headed for the truck.
When he got there, he looked back at the tent where Jerry and April still stood. Jerry was gesturing and talking earnestly. April just shook her head and turned toward the tent. Scott Conroy stood nearby, his arms crossed and smugness radiating from him. He said something to Jerry and then followed April into the tent.
The entrance flap fell closed, cutting off the light.
But Matt could still see well enough to see Jerry standing there, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Matt recalled the line from some poem about it being better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
Sometimes, poets didn't know shit.
# # # # # #
The rest of the night passed quietly enough, although Matt was restless, his dreams haunted by visions of Mr. Dark and all the evil he had witnessed in recent months. He woke up sweating a couple of times, even though the dry, high desert air grew rather chilly before morning.
Everyone would be responsible for cooking, cleaning up after meals, and all the other mundane chores that kept the camp functioning while the dig went on. This morning two of the young women, Maggie Flynn and Astrid Tompkins, were preparing breakfast. Matt accepted a cup of coffee from Astrid, a young black woman with a killer smile.
Thinking back to his high school days, Matt recalled that most of the really smart girls had also been pretty good-looking. He didn't know why that was, but obviously that was still the case. Jerry was right: all six of the female grad students were attractive.
After breakfast, which was over by the time the sun had risen much above the horizon, the members of the group scattered to three dig sites. Dr. Varley headed toward the spot where Matt had felt that eerie, unpleasant
