Ell grabbed Mia’s hand. “It’s all right now. Relax. Deep breaths.”
Mia nodded. “Thanks.”
Ramsey set a hand on each of his hips. “So what do y’all think of my secret weapon?” He waited a moment, but we gave no answer. “Well, it’s effective, that’s about all that matters. Buncha spotlights and some other Army shit.” Chuckling, he looked at Stone. “How ‘bout you, buddy, you dig it?”
Stone’s face was a blank slate. A few seconds passed before he even gave a hint that he intended to reply, and I was betting on him saying something offensive and/or vulgar when he did.
But he didn’t; I was surprised.
“I’ll tell you this, Ramsey,” Stone said, “you’ve just gone up a couple of notches in my book.”
“Now that’s good to hear, partner!”
“Ah, don’t get ahead of yourself. I still don’t completely trust you after you shot at us.”
“Near y’all, I shot near y’all,” Ramsey corrected. “But yeah, I get it. You can’t trust nobody but your CO, your—”
“Momma, and God,” Stone finished, much to Ramsey’s amusement.
Chewy’s head turned up, and he sniffed loudly. So I inhaled, and that was when I noticed a slight burning smell drifting into the cafe.
“You sure it didn’t catch after I left?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Ramsey said. “It’s like a supernova in there—it burns bright, but it don’t burn for long. Like I said, it’s a helluva fuel sucker.” On cue, the lights in the cafe flickered and buzzed. Ramsey’s eyes drifted toward the nearest bulb, and he frowned. “Well, someone else go ahead and take a look outside. Double check that them sons-of-bitches are gone.”
No one took him up on the offer. For some reason, maybe it was me trying to be brave or just being plain stupid—and I’m guessing it was the latter—I advanced toward the window. I almost said: What's the worst thing that could happen? but didn’t because saying something like that almost always made the worst thing that could happen, happen.
At the window, I moved the piece of wood and stared out into the new darkness for a few moments. “I don’t see anything.”
Ramsey was leaning against the fireplace. He laughed, bent, and slapped his knee hard enough to make Chewy’s ears perk up.
“You’re damn right! Made them motherfuckers scurry back to the giant asshole they crawled out of!”
I nodded my head, impressed. The feeling didn’t last for long, however, because Ramsey’s voice turned ominous. He stopped laughing and, one by one, he met our eyes with his own, whispering, “They’ll be back in a couple of days. They always come back.”
He was right, of course, and I hadn’t doubted him about that…but the monsters returned much sooner than we expected.
Much sooner.
Stone said, “So it’s like a toaster? Shit, that sounds like the perfect place to sleep.”
“If you wanna wake up barbecued,” I said.
“Yeah, Grady’s right,” Ramsey said. “It’s a hazard. Lotta risk for the reward. I can’t use it too much neither. That few minutes alone burned up about a quarter of my juice. That’s why I said it’s best to ignore ‘em. They can’t get in, and as long as we’re awake, they can’t get in our heads. But—”
“They were extra saucy tonight,” Stone interrupted.
Ramsey chuckled. “Saucy, yeah, that’s one way of puttin’ it. I think it’s somethin’ else, though.” His face was wrinkled, as if deep in thought.
That piqued my curiosity. “What something?”
“Well, the dude studyin’ them bastards in the City—Berretti—he had this theory. I don’t know if it holds any water or not, but the more I think about it—and with what happened here tonight—maybe he ain’t totally off his rocker.”
“What is it?” Mia demanded. “Christ, we’ve been over this, Ramsey! Get. To. The. Point.”
He tipped an imaginary hat her way and grinned. “The shadows—or the wraiths, or the ‘rages, or whatever you wanna call ‘em—they take a liking to certain people. They follow ya around, latch onto your back and won’t let go until they’ve done whatever it is that they do to us. Suck our souls or eat our fear and whatnot. They probably caught your scent and teamed up with the bastards followin’ me. Fuckin’ dinner party, that’s what that shit was.” He cupped a hand over to the side of his mouth and hollered: “Sorry, assholes, meal’s canceled!”
This brought thoughts of Bob into my head. He had compared himself to a dinner host for the monsters, gaining the trust of wanderers like us who were unfortunate enough to cross his path, and torturing them to extract fear and grief and anguish.
Stone sat up straight and eyed Ramsey. “You’re telling me the same motherfuckers that haunted our asses on Prism Lake, miles and miles away, have followed us all the way down here?”
Ramsey gave him a shrug. “Eh…it’s just a theory. Everything about ‘em is a theory because they ain’t exactly willin’ to be studied and all. And I don’t know how much weight this particular theory holds, but I know I ain’t ever had to deal with so many shadows in all the weeks I’ve spent here. Come to think of it, that was only the second time I used the Battery Box.” He nodded to me. “And with Mr. Firefighter-Grady over here chewing me out for it bein’ ‘unsafe’, I don’t know if I’ll get to use it again.”
Glaring in my direction, Stone shook his head; Ell patted me on the back, as if to say It’s okay for being a stickler, I love you regardless; and Mia, rolling her eyes, said, “Color me unsurprised.”
I hauled my arms out to the sides. “Hey, I’m just watching our backs. I’d prefer it if none of us were burned alive.”
“Shit,” Stone mumbled, “being burned alive sounds kinda good right about now.”
“Yeah, where you’re going”—Mia leaned over and
