He nodded dejectedly, and the two of them stepped back into the elevator.
In the seconds before the elevator doors closed, he saw the contingent of Night Managers walk away from the kitchen, back to their brethren, carrying new cups of coffee.
On their own.
2
He had rescinded the curfew several days ago and people were again allowed outside at night, but the fear was still there, and he drove home on an empty road, seeing no other vehicles, even downtown.
There was supposed to be an election in a few weeks to choose a new town council, but no one had as yet indicated that they would run for any of the positions.
After what had happened to the last two councils, maybe people thought the job was cursed.
Ginny and Shannon were both home, waiting for him, and they ate together.
Meat loaf and mashed potatoes. He tried to be cheerful, they all did, but as always Sam's absence seemed the most acute at mealtime, and they drifted off into silence, thinking their own thoughts as they ate.
They had not heard from her since her transfer to Dallas, and he prayed that nothing had happened to her.
School had started yesterday, and Ginny already had homework to grade and Shannon already had homework to do, so he spent the evening alone, numbing his brain with a video game on the PC. He was on the fourth level of Alienblaster when Ginny came barging into the room, shutting the door behind her. She hurried over to the window, pulled open the drapes.
'What's this?' Bill said.
'Night Managers.'
He stood. 'What?'
She turned toward him, her face white, blanched. 'Look outside.'
He did. 'I don't see anything.'
'Turn off the light.'
He did so and again stared out the window. His eyes adjusted, and now he could see them, behind the trees, just as she'd said.
The Night Managers.
They were watching his house.
An involuntary shiver passed through him, goose bumps popping up on his arms.
Ginny pulled the drapes shut. 'They're spying on us!'
Bill took a deep breath. 'They're spying on me.'
'Can't you call them off?'
He nodded. 'I should be able to. But I didn't order them here.'
'What's that mean?'
'I think it means King's coming.'
'What's he going to do?'
'I don't know.' Bill looked around the floor, picked up his shoes and socks. 'But I'd better get down to The Store and meet him.'
She grabbed his arm. 'No! You can't go!'
He pulled away. 'I have to.'
'What if he --'
'I have to,' he repeated. He quickly walked out of the room and down the hall. He stopped in the living room to put on his shoes and socks, then checked to make sure all of the doors and windows were closed and locked. 'Don't open anything. Don't let anyone in.' He looked around. 'You still have that baseball bat somewhere?'
She nodded.
'Get it. Just in case.'
Shannon had walked into the living room from her bedroom. 'What is it?
What's going on?'
'The Night Managers,' Ginny said. 'They're surrounding the house.'
'Oh, God.' Shannon started crying. 'Oh, God. I knew it. I knew it.'
'Just stay calm,' Bill told them. 'I'm going to The Store. Hopefully, they'll follow me. I think that's why they're here.'
'What's going to happen?'
He sucked in his breath. 'I think Newman King wants to meet with me.'
Shannon's sobs grew stronger. She ran across the living room, threw her arms around her father. 'Don't go!' she pleaded. 'It's a trick. It's a trap.'
'Maybe you should wait until morning,' Ginny suggested.
'And maybe he'll come here.'
'At least it's your home turf.'
'The Store's my home turf. It's my Store. Besides, I don't want him here.'
'Maybe we should come with you. There's safety in numbers. And we're female. He might not --'
'He doesn't care what you are.' Bill hugged his daughter, kissed her forehead, then moved over to Ginny, pulling her close. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. 'I'll be back as soon as I can.'
'What if you never come back?' Shannon sobbed.
'I'll be back.'
The Store's parking lot was empty when he arrived, but the lights were on inside, and through the front doors he could see Night Managers moving through the aisles.
He felt cold, frightened, but he forced himself to get out of the car and used his key to open the doors and let himself in.
The Night Managers were walking quickly through the building, moving up and down the aisles, between the racks. They were supposed to be auditing the day's events, taking inventory and recording transactions, but they did not stop moving even for a second and did not even appear to be looking at any of the merchandise.
They just kept walking.
The Store was completely silent save for their footsteps, and the lack of Muzak, the lack of air-conditioning noise, the lack of any other sound whatsoever was extremely unnerving. Bill walked forward slowly, up the main aisle.
The lights snapped off. Behind him, he heard a metallic click. There was a sudden breeze, a rush of cold air, and he quickly turned around.
King stood in the doorway, backlit by the headlights of his limo.
'Bill,' King said. 'Nice to see you again.'
There was no joy in his voice, no friendliness, only a hard, dangerous flatness that sounded completely inhuman. He stood just inside the building, alone, unmoving, a dark, frightening figure, little more than a silhouette. The strangeness of his body, so obvious up close, was also visible in the peculiar outline of his form, and Bill was filled with an instant, instinctive fear. But he held his ground, faced King. 'Good evening,' he said calmly.
The lights came back on, and the CEO strode up the aisle toward him.
Stage tricks. King was using theatrical lighting in order to draw attention to himself.
The smallness of it, the mundane practicality of the dramatic convention somehow made Bill feel less afraid.
'What do you think you're doing?' King asked.
'Standing here.'
'I mean, what are you doing with The Store?'
'My job.'
The two of them faced each other. Again, Bill noticed the strangeness of King's skin, the artificiality of his teeth, the ferocity in his eyes. He looked away, unable to gaze for more than a few seconds upon that unnatural visage.
'This is not the way you were trained to manage a Store.'
'No, but I decided to do it this way. I thought it would be best for Juniper.'
King practically shouted. 'I decide what's best!'
