“Thank you for everything,” Bonnie said, for an instant laying her pale hand on Dr. Alpert’s long-fingered, dark brown one. “You be careful, too — of fallen trees and of Isobel, and of something red in the road.”
“Bonnie, I’m leaving.” Meredith was already outside the SUV.
“And lock your doors! And don’t get out until you’re away from the woods!” Bonnie said, as she tumbled down from the vehicle beside Meredith.
And then they ran. Of course, all that Bonnie had said about Meredith running in front of her, leaving her behind, was nonsense, and they both knew it. Meredith seized Bonnie’s hand as soon as Bonnie’s feet had touched the road and began running like a greyhound, dragging Bonnie along with her, at times seeming to whirl her over dips in the road.
Bonnie didn’t need to be told how important speed was. She wished desperately that they had a car. She wished a lot of things, primarily that Mrs. Flowers lived in the middle of town and not way out here on the wild side.
At last, as Meredith had foreseen, she was winded, and her hand so slick with sweat that it slipped out of Meredith’s hand. She bent almost double, hands on her knees, trying to get her breath.
“Bonnie! Wipe your hand! We have to run!”
“Just — give me — a minute—”
“We don’t have a minute! Can’t you hear it?Come on! ”
“I just need — to get — my breath.”
“Bonnie, look behind you. And don’t scream!”
Bonnie looked behind her, screamed, and then discovered that she wasn’t winded after all. She took off, grabbing Meredith’s hand.
She could hear it, now, even above her own wheezing breath and the pounding in her ears. It was an insect sound, not a buzzing but still a sound that her brain filed under bug. It sounded like the whip whip whip of a helicopter, only much higher in pitch, as if a helicopter could have insect-like tentacles instead of blades. With that one glance, she had made out an entire gray mass of those tentacles, with heads in front — and all the heads were open to show mouths full of white sharp teeth.
She struggled to turn on the flashlight. Night was falling, and she had no idea how long it would be until moonrise. All she knew was that the trees seemed to make everything darker, and that they were after her and Meredith.
The malach.
The whipping sound of tentacles beating the air was much louder now. Much closer. Bonnie didn’t want to turn around and see the source of it. The sound was pushing her body beyond all sane limits. She couldn’t help hearing over and over Matt’s words: like putting my hand in a garbage disposal and turning it on. Like putting my hand in a garbage disposal…
Her hand and Meredith’s were covered with sweat again. And the gray mass was definitely overtaking them. It was only half as far away as it had been at first, and the whipping noise was getting higher-pitched.
At the same time her legs felt like rubber. Literally. She couldn’t feel her knees. And now they felt like rubber dissolving into gelatin.
Vipvipvipvipveeee…
It was the sound of one of them, closer than the rest. Closer, closer, and then it was in front of them, its mouth open in an oval shape with teeth all around the perimeter.
Just like Matt had said.
Bonnie had no breath to scream with. But she needed to scream. The headless thing with no eyes or features — just that horrible mouth — had turned ahead of them and was coming right for her. And her automatic response — to beat at it with her hands — could cost her an arm. Oh God, it was coming for her face ….
“There’s the boardinghouse,” gasped Meredith, giving her a jerk that lifted her off her feet.“Run!”
Bonnie ducked, just as the malach tried to collide with her. Instantly, she felt tentacles whipwhipwhip into her curly hair. She was abruptly yanked backward to a painful stumble and Meredith’s hand was torn out of hers. Her legs wanted to collapse. Her guts wanted her to scream.
“Oh, God, Meredith, it’s got me! Run!Don’t let one get you!”
In front of her, the boardinghouse was lit up like a hotel. Usually it was dark except for maybe Stefan’s window and one other. But now it shone like a jewel, just beyond her reach.
“Bonnie, shut your eyes!”
Meredith hadn’t left her. She was still here. Bonnie could feel vine-like tentacles gently brushing her ear, lightly tasting her sweaty forehead, working toward her face, her throat…She sobbed.
And then there was a sharp, loud crack mixed with a sound like a ripe melon bursting, and something damp scattered all over her back. She opened her eyes. Meredith was dropping a thick branch she had been holding like a baseball bat. The tentacles were already sliding out of Bonnie’s hair.
Bonnie didn’t want to look at the mess behind her.
“Meredith, you—”
“Come on — run!”
And she was running again. All the way up the gravel boardinghouse driveway, all the way up the path to the door. And there, in the doorway, Mrs. Flowers was standing with an old-fashioned kerosene lamp.
“Get in, get in,” she said, and as Meredith and Bonnie skittered to a stop, sobbing for air, she slammed the door shut behind them. They all heard the sound that came next. It was like the sound the branch had made — a sharp crack plus a bursting, only much louder, and repeated many times over, like popcorn popping.
Bonnie was shaking as she took her hands away from her ears and slid down to sit on the entry-hall rug.
“What in heaven’s name have you girls been doing to yourselves?” Mrs. Flowers said, eyeing Bonnie’s forehead, Meredith’s swollen nose, and their general state of sweaty exhaustion.
“It takes too — long to explain,” Meredith got out. “Bonnie! You can sit down — upstairs.”
Somehow or other Bonnie made it upstairs. Meredith went at once to the computer and turned it on, collapsing on the desk chair in front of it. Bonnie used the last of her energy to pull off her top. The back was stained with nameless insect juices. She crumpled it into a ball and threw it into a corner.
Then she fell down on Stefan’s bed.
“What exactly did Matt say?” Meredith was getting her breath back.
“He said Look in the backup — or Look for the backup file or something. Meredith, my head…it isn’t good.”
“Okay. Just relax. You did great out there.”
“I made it because you saved me. Thanks…again….”
“Don’t worry about it. But I don’t understand,” Meredith added in her talking-to-herself murmur. “There’s a backup file of this note in the same directory, but it’s no different. I don’t see what Matt meant.”
“Maybe he was confused,” Bonnie said reluctantly. “Maybe he was just in a lot of pain and sort of off his head.”
“Backup file, backup file…wait a minute! Doesn’t Word automatically save a backup in some weird place, like under the administrator directory or somewhere?” Meredith was clicking rapidly through directories. Then she said, in a disappointed voice, “No, nothing there.”
She sat back, letting her breath out sharply. Bonnie knew what she must be thinking. Their long and desperate run through danger couldn’t all be for nothing. It couldn’t.
Then, slowly, Meredith said, “There are a lot of temp files in here for one little note.”
“What’s a temp file?”
“It’s just a temporary storage of your file while you’re working on it. Usually it just looks like gibberish, though.” The clicking started again. “But I must as well be thorough — oh!” She interrupted herself. The clicking stopped.
And then there was dead silence.
“What is it?” Bonnie said anxiously.
More silence.
“Meredith! Talk to me!Did you find a backup file? ”
Meredith said nothing. She seemed not even to hear. She was reading with what looked like horrified fascination.
