Mrs. Hatchell nodded and retreated back into her chair. “He’s right, in his own rationalized way. I have essentially the same thoughts. This town is almost dead.”
I thought of Elkinsville then, out there at the bottom of the lake. Would Redmoor someday soon be as dead as that watery ghost town?
I left Mrs. H. and took Monika with me. It was late, we were both yawning, but somehow as soon as we were out in the corridor alone some eletricity started up and we talked closely.
“She’s a wise woman,” said Monika. “But maybe not as wise as she thinks.”
I pushed out my lower lip and nodded, appreciating her logic. “Let’s go outside and eat a donut.” I said, showing her a white powdered donut I’d snagged from a tray. She smiled up at me and we went outside.
The air was cold and fresh and there was a light wind going. It felt good after the stuffy interior of the medical center. I gave her the first bite of the donut. She took a nibble at first, then smiled and took a good-sized bite. I wondered if she had ever had a powdered donut in her life before. I took a bite myself. The donut was stale, but the powdered sugar tasted good. It caked up in my mouth in a familiar sensation that made me smile.
I pointed to the stars and she nodded and we talked. I named a few constellations and she joined in. Some of her names sounded strange, but I agreed with whatever she wanted to call them.
The stars were bigger and brighter overhead than I’d ever seen them in Redmoor. They looked like they do when you are up in the mountains camping. There were no streetlights or cars or neon signs or flickering televisions in windows anymore to compete with them. The moon had set by now, and the Milky Way was a glowing river that crossed the sky. Constellations shone in noticeable groupings. I picked out Orion from his belt and the Pleiades cluster straight overhead. I wondered how many people around the world were out looking at them tonight, seeing them as people hadn’t for centuries.
Monika got cold after awhile so we went back inside and found a room to sleep in. There were was only one cot. She looked at it and then at me, alarmed.
“Oh, just a second,” I said.
I went and found a second cot and put it in the room. I pushed it up against the opposite wall. She was shy at first about sleeping in the same room with me. I kind of liked the idea, but decided I wouldn’t care if she left and slept somewhere else. When we turned down the lanterns, I thought of going for a kiss, but could not quite do it.
I fell asleep knowing that if Vance had been in this spot, he would not have chickened.
Twelve
Mrs. Hatchell found us in the early morning. I awakened to find her tapping at my boots. There was a carved frown of disapproval on her face. I glanced at Monika, sleeping in her cot across the room and felt a flush of embarrassment. This was quickly followed by a feeling of irritation. I wondered if she would ever get over treating me like a kid.
“Yeah? What is it?”
She waved me out into the hall. I grunted and rolled gently off the cot and put on my shoes quietly so as to not awaken Monika, who made a murmuring sound but stayed asleep as I left. I stumbled into the hallway. Hatchell looked at me reproachfully over her reading glasses.
“Gannon, I don’t think you should be taking advantage of her.”
“Mrs. H.,” I said, “the world is being eaten nightly by monsters and I think there are more important things to worry about.”
She glanced back into the room, at Monika, still frowning. “Gannon, have you thought about your actions? Can you imagine bringing a new life into the world the way it is right now? It would be a crime.”
I made a sound of exasperation. “Is there something I can help you with, Mrs. Hatchell?”
She kept frowning at me. “The Nelson family came in last night, all except for little Holly Nelson. They’ve asked for volunteers to go back and get her. She’s only eleven.”
“Why did they leave her behind?”
She made a fluttering motion with her hand. “Something chased them out. They lost her out there at night. You know how her father is in a wheelchair. They are begging for help and most people are just looking ashamed.”
I nodded. There were few of us willing to go out and face the world as it was now. “I’ll do it. Me and Vance.”
She nodded and was about to stalk off when she paused. “One more thing. There’s a storm coming in. A big, strange one by the look of it.”
“Great,” I said.
After she left I gently awakened Monika and we went out to find some breakfast and Vance. The Nelson family found us first and gave us tearful thanks. I nodded and felt uncomfortable. Mrs. Hatchell must have gone and told them immediately. Everyone knew the odds were bad. I hated the idea of coming back and telling the Nelson’s that their daughter was torn to pieces, or worse, that she had turned into a lizard and we had killed her.
I sighed, knowing that I was committed now. Looking outside, the skies did indeed look to be darkening with a storm. The wind was gusting up and plucking the last of the leaves off the trees.
Monika sent me out into the storm with a worried look. A lock of her hair kept slipping down into her face and she kept pushing it back. I liked that. She gave me a thermos of hot coffee she’d gotten somewhere and a brown sack with a tunafish sandwich in it. I hated tunafish, but I smiled anyway.
She gave me a kiss on the cheek that left a wet spot that quickly cooled in the winds to an icy tingle. She only said one thing: “Come back.”
Vance watched all this with interest and was on me before we had gotten across the parking lot.
“Well?” he demanded.
“What?” I said in annoyance.
“Did you?”
“What?”
“You know what, dammit. Did the best man win or not?”
“I think she likes me, if that’s what you mean,” I said vaguely. On some level I was enjoying his discomfiture as much as he was enjoying mine.
“Come on, Come on,” he complained. “Did you get down to business with her or not? That cot was pretty dammed cozy.”
“I got a second cot for her.”
“You what?”
“I’m not going to get into any details with a joker like you.”
He stared at me for a moment.
I attempted a poker face, but it didn’t work.
“You wimp!” he exclaimed. “You didn’t do a thing, did you?”
“Shut up, Vance.”
He sputtered and made sounds of disbelief as we turned onto Bohlend drive and began climbing the slope. The Nelsons lived at the very end of Bohlend drive just outside of town.
“You know what,” Vance told me. “If you were a dog, you would be poodle. One of those poodles that rolls over on its back when you come near and wizzes itself. A real piss-and-shiver dog.”
I turned on him and might have punched him, but we both heard something big rumbling behind us. It was the storm.
We looked up blinking at the sky. It didn’t look right. There was a black billowing cloud shaped like an anvil in the middle of the overcast sky. A contrasting wisp of white like a streak of cotton moved quickly over the face of the anvil. There came a flash of light, like lightning, but there was no thunderclap, just the rumbling sound. The anvil-shaped cloud was impossibly dark, and seemed unnatural. Worse, the flash of light inside it seemed to be
