He had no choice but to listen to her. 'there a box in the car from Janet's uncle's house.'
I'll get it.' Obviously happy to have something to do, Janet headed over to the rental car to fetch her uncle's witchcraft paraphernalia.
'May told me to bring your stuff, too,' Claire said. 'Thank God you didn't put it back in that safety deposit box or
there's no way I would, have been able to get it out. It's in the trunk.'
'I have the keys,' Hal said. go. May turned to look at Garden.
He shrugged. 'I never saw those things. I only heard about them. I don't know what happened to them.'
The old lady frowned, mumbled something to herself. Hal and Janet returned with the materials. Miles took his father's stuff from Hal, who then offered to carry Janet's box. Janet shook her head, held on to the carton, and following May's lead, they all walked down the slope to the water's edge, leaving the unmoving Rossiter behind.
By this time the strange sky looked downright fierce. The clouds were not stormy gray but black, deep black, like the water. Though it was difficult to detect movement in so much darkness, shapes seemed to be forming and un forming and reforming in the roiling currents of air.
Feeling his chest tighten, Miles put the box down on the sand, Janet following suit. May crouched down, quickly sorted through the jumble of items and, smiling as if she'd found some long-lost treasure, drew out a rusty spoon. The spoon from his dream.
The tightness in his chest increased.
She picked out a large covered jar, a porcelain doll with painted breasts and pubic hair, a kerosene lamp.
He'd dreamed about all these things, and he felt a cold coil of fear wrap around his heart. Sure, the spoon had come from his father's batch of items, and he might have dreamed about it because he had seen it. But that did not explain the jar or the doll or the lamp. Those things had belonged to Janet's uncle. There was no way he could have known about them.
May set those items aside, then begn sorting through the things he did remember. She drew out the necklace of teeth, the plastic bag containing the dried, flattened frog.
'Wear these for protection,' she said. She ran her hands above the necklace, tracing patterns in the air in a manner that seemed oddly sensual and that, in some strange way, spoke to him, though he had never seen such a thing before. She held the necklace out and he took it gingerly. He had no intention of ever wearing such a thing, but she held his gaze and refused to continue until he put it on. Shivering with revulsion, he obliged.
She performed similar hand movements over the frog, took it out of the bag, and handed it to Garden. 'Keep this in the left front pocket of your pants.'
Garden looked like he wanted to object, but he did not and pocketed the frog.
Janet received a ring of bone, Hal a carved wood fetish, Claire a bracelet made out of some type of dried weed. May herself opened one of the bottles and ingested a pinch of some foul-scented powder.
'Now--' May began. But she never finished. From the dark, swirling sky came a bright yellow lightning bolt that was not accompanied by thunder and did not flash instantly to earth but descended slowly and deliberately through the charged atmosphere and struck May atop the head. She watched it come for her, made no effort to move out of the way. When it touched her hair she fell, the features of her face hardening into an agonized rigidity. She collapsed forward onto the gravel, her arms flailing spastically, her legs jerking in furious counter movement even as the muscles of her face froze.
'Somebody do something,' Claire said, but no one moved forward, and Miles grabbed her around the waist and held tightly to keep her from approaching May's electrically charged form.
The lightning retreated as leisurely as it had arrived, heading back up into the roiling sky like a fishing line being reeled in. Claire broke free from his grasp and knelt next to
the now still old woman, putting her hand on May's neck to feel for a pulse. She is dead.' ''Miles pulled Claire back. 'No mouth-to-mouth.'
She didn't object, and Miles understood just how frightened she was.
Claire was a congenital do-gooder, always helping people, always giving of her time and money, doing anything she could to assist someone in trouble. She was also well trained in CPR. If Claire was so easily dissuaded from trying to help May, Miles knew that she had to be truly terrified.
Hal looked from May to Rossiter on top of the slope.
'Iwo down, five to go,' he said. 'Not funny,' Miles told him.
'Asshole,' Garden mumbled.
Claire suddenly jerked backward, and Miles was nearly knocked over, thrown off balance by the surprise movement.
'What? he started to say. Then he saw. May.
The homeless woman was vibrating, a uniform shiver that passed through her form yet did not bring life to any part of her body. Her arms and legs remained frozen at oddly cocked angles, and the wide-eyed agony on her face stayed unchanged.
A powerful shudder passed through her.
She stood.
And started walking.
He knew what was happening, knew where she was going. There were only seconds to decide on a course of action, and Miles took charge. 'Grab your stuff! We're going with her!' He scrambled about for the spoon and the jar and kerosene lamp, leaving the doll on the sand, unable to carry it. 'Water!' he called out. 'Bring water if you have it! It's the desert!'
Garden dashed back up the slope to the parking lot, followed by Hal.
May was striding away, her head tilted up toward the sky, while her feet followed the path that had been taken by Isabella and the other Walkers. In his mind was the image of that slow lightning coming down to strike May, Agent
Rossiter reappearing from his chase with a red head and a dead brain, the physical proof of the power they were up against, but Miles knew he was doing the right thing and, running on instinct, he kept his eyes on the dead woman, ready to hurry after her if she got out of his sight..
Garden and Hal came sprinting down to the shore, Gar den strapped with two canteens, Hal carrying a six- pack of
Dr. Pepper.
'Let's go!' Miles shouted. 'Follow her!
'Get help,' he told Claire, kissing her quickly. 'Drive back to a town, bring the police, sheriff, whatever you can fred.'
'Oh, no, you don't.' She grabbed Miles' arm, holding
' ' ' ' ' him tight.
'I'll go for help,' Janet said. 'Or I'll stay. Or...' She closed her eyes. 'I just don't want to chase after her. Them. I don't want to go with you.'
Miles understood. Her uncle was not here, any personal connection she might have had was gone, and she was too emotionally on edge to continue on. He thought she should go with them, thought the fact that her family had come from Wolf Canyon might have a bearing on the situation, but there was no time to discuss the subject, no time to argue or convince her, and he knew that without major reassurances she would not be able to make it.
Miles handed Claire the lamp, fumbled in his pocket. 'Here's the car keys,' he said, tossing them to Janet. 'Get some help. Tell them about the FBI guy. That should bring someone over here pretty quick.'
Janet said something in response, but he didn't have time to listen.
May was disappearing behind a big paloverde, and Miles took off after her, pulling Claire with him, yelling at the others to hurry up.
