And then something thumps, on the roof of the car.
“What the hell?” Clay shouts. We scramble to get our clothes on and check the windows, but nobody’s there. I struggle with the buttons on my top cuz my hands are shakin’ so bad, and I think for a split second that if this is R. J. and them, I will cut their throats!
Clay opens the door and gets out, and I hurry after him.
“Who’s out here?” he calls with authority. It’s his man’s voice, and it gives me chills. He’s angry. “Show yourself!”
No one seems to be around anywhere. We only hear the wind. Neither of us says anything; we’re both on high alert. Could it have just been a branch blown by the wind? Sounded harder than that. I’m looking along the ground to find the object we heard when something else hits the car, just missing my head.
Clay grabs me, pulling me toward him as another rock comes our way but misses the car this time. Then we hear laughing above us. A couple rednecks—I can see them necks glowin’ red from here—are perched up in the maple beside the car.
Oh Jesus.
“Why are you causin’ trouble?” Clay asks them, his voice so sharp it could draw blood.
The two of ’em swing down from the tree like monkeys.
“Just playin’ around,” the blond one says, gettin’ way too close to Clay for my liking.
Clay don’t back down, don’t back away. But he don’t step forward, neither. He’s smart, but he’s got pride. I’m worried about his pride.
“Do not come near my vehicle again,” he says slowly and clearly. He talks differently to them than to me. He’s like a whole other person right now.
Blondie laughs. A redhead steps up from behind him.
“Clay, let’s just go,” I say as quietly and firmly as I can.
Redhead spits a brownish liquid onto the ground, very close to Clay’s oxfords.
“C’mon, Clay. Donchu got no sense a humor? Donchu know when somebody’s just havin’ some fun with you?” Then Redhead glances at me. “She looks like she knows how to have fun. Am I right?”
A deep infinite darkness crosses Clay’s eyes. I attempt to pull him away, but it’s like pullin’ on a cement wall. He ain’t movin’.
“Uh-oh. Looks like somebody’s mad,” Redhead says to Blondie, eyes sparkling. This is honest-to-God fun for them.
“Sure looks that way. We better watch out. This boy’s liable to run us both over with this nice car a his,” Blondie says back.
“He just might,” Clay says, menacing. Now I’m pullin’ with all my strength, and he’s finally startin’ to budge. Clay, don’t be stupid!
The Redhead stops smilin’. “You think you could repeat that, nigger? I’m a li’l hard-a-hearin’.”
“You gonna run us over? With this here car?” Blondie asks, and then he keys the whole right side, leaving a nasty scar in the baby-blue paint.
I whip Clay’s face around to look at me.
“Clay. Clay? Let’s please leave right now. Please,” I beg. He looks from me to the rednecks, the rednecks to me. His anger’s so thick, I can feel it pulsin’ through his skin. But, gradually, he starts to do as I say.
“Go on and follow your whore,” Blondie calls after us, still laughing. Clay pauses, and I hold on to him like his life depends on it. Because it does.
“If you so mad, wonchu come back an fight.” Redhead spits more brown juice.
“That’s enough,” a new voice says. It comes from several feet behind the other two. There’s another one standin’ there. I see him, and terror I can’t describe shoots through me.
As though they’re trained dogs and him their master, Redhead and Blondie forget about me and Clay and walk right over to the black-haired stranger, flanking him. The Stranger that keeps turnin’ up like a creature in a nightmare. For the first time, I realize that the creepy vibes I’ve been gettin’ from this man up to now are a trifle. His ocean-blue eyes are dull, vast holes, and when I look at them directly, I know he has never felt compassion in his life. He is malevolence in the shape of a human being.
I push Clay into the car through the passenger’s side and slide in when the Stranger grabs the door handle, preventing me from closing it.
“Stop it,” I whimper, struggling to rip the door from his grasp. His henchmen appear and hold it open with their weight.
I have no choice. I focus my energy. I’m scared for Clay to know about the things I can do, but this is an emergency. I breathe deep and envision a wall protecting me and Clay and repelling these beasts like an electric fence.
But nothing happens. It’s not working.
Nightmare Man stares down at me for a few seconds, cocking his neck to get a better look. He smiles, and a winter chill rolls down my spine. No trace of a headache. No sense of my talents at all. All I have is my fear, like any other person.
“Who are you?” I ask him.
He smiles, brighter. “Evalene Deschamps.” He knows my name. My god, how does he know my name? I’m screaming inside. Wailing for my mama. Paralyzed and helpless.
He leans down close to my face, and I feel myself shrinking into nothing.
His eyes. Those vast, blue holes. Dead eyes. Looking into his face is like staring into a corpse. There ain’t nothin’ there.
“Notre destinée se rencontre fréquemment dans les chemins mêmes que nous prenons pour l’éviter,” he says.
I can’t move; I can’t think. I can’t do anything. Where is my Jubilation? Why can’t I summon my power the one time I need it?
Nightmare Man winks at me and closes the door. Clay turns the car around so we can get back down the hill, and as he pulls away, the Stranger waves to me with no expression on his face.
Clay slams his foot on the gas, and we tear the hell outta there and back toward the main road so fast, I think we’re gonna hit
