Darkness On The Edge Of Town Part 21

"Christy?" I knelt beside her, gently touching her shoulder as if she were made of gla.s.s. The tender gesture seemed absurd, considering what I'd been doing to her just a few moments before. "Honey? Are you okay?"

She slapped me across the face, catching me by surprise. Her face glistened in the flashlight beam-tears and sweat and bile.

"Get the f.u.c.k away from me, you son of a b.i.t.c.h!"

Her shriek was hoa.r.s.e. Her voice didn't sound like it usually did.

I held up my hands. "I'm sorry, baby. I am so f.u.c.king sorry. It wasn't me. One minute, we were arguing, and the next...I'm sorry."

She took a deep, stuttering breath and sobbed.

"I know," she whispered, shaking her head. "I know. I felt it too, while we were fighting."

"We all did," Russ agreed. "It took everything I had not to shoot you, Robbie."

"What the h.e.l.l do we do?" I glanced at each of them. Out in the pet store, the animals continued to bark and yip and whine. "I mean, how the f.u.c.k are we supposed to fight this? We're losing our minds here."

"We've got to stay away from each other as much as possible from now on," Russ said. "Stay away from everyone."

"Too much negativity, man," Cranston added. "Negative emotions are no good. They just bring on bad karma."

"Yeah," I said. "I'd say this is some pretty wicked f.u.c.king karma, Cranston."

Christy wiped her eyes with her shirttail. "So we just stay away from each other?"

Russ nodded. "From everybody. No one is safe anymore. All it takes is some little thing, some perceived slight or offense, to set us off. We can't risk that. We'll go back together, but once we reach the building, I think we should each stay in our own apartment for a while. And if I were you two, I'd consider sleeping in different rooms for a few days at least."

Before we left, the four of us freed the trapped animals. Some were too sick or weak to move. These we placed on the floor, trying our best to put them in areas that would provide shelter-under desks, counters, and displays-until they had the strength or will to move again. Others scampered out the open door or ran around the store. We released everything-the dogs, kittens, hamsters, gerbils, mice, rats, snakes, frogs, and lizards. We even released the hermit crabs and a terrarium full of crickets that were meant to be food for some of the other pets. Surprisingly, they didn't turn on each other immediately. I'd figured the snakes would go after their prey right away. Instead, they seemed sluggish and disinterested. A few of the more active cats chased after the rodents, but the smaller creatures scampered to safety. The only pets we didn't free were the fish, because none of us could think of a way to safely transport them to the town pond. Cranston suggested releasing them into the sewer, but none of us bothered to try. By that point, we were too tired and still distraught over what had happened in the back room. We opened all the food we could find and dumped it in scattered piles across the store. Then, after making sure the door was propped open, we left the store. The crazy scientist's corpse was still lying on the sidewalk. Amazingly enough, he was still bleeding. I hadn't realized just how much blood a human body contained until that moment. We went around him, but Cranston stepped in a pool of blood and left brownish red tracks in our wake.

Christy reached for my hand. I was shocked at first, surprised that she'd want anything to do with me after what had just happened. She didn't say anything. Didn't even look at me. But when she reached for it again, more insistently the second time, I accepted. We walked together, holding hands. It was enough.

I noticed something else as we began the long trek home. The streets had been mostly quiet on our way downtown. No longer. There were all kinds of sounds indicating activity, but all of it was happening out of sight-in buildings and alleys and side streets.

In darkness.

We walked in silence, but all around us, the shadows were alive with screams.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

For the next week, Christy and I lived together but apart. We stayed separated, afraid to get too close to each other in case one of us snapped and tried to kill the other. Oh, don't get me wrong. We didn't spend all of our time apart. We still talked and stuff. But for the most part, we kept our conversations short and focused only on noncontroversial stuff. Anything that might have sparked a disagreement between us, no matter how stupid or trivial, was avoided like dynamite. The only time we discussed anything more in-depth than small talk, was when we first got home from the pet store. That night, we discussed our feelings and emotions. I apologized over and over again, and Christy kept telling me that she forgave me. Thing was, I didn't feel forgiven. Not by her, and not by myself. I could still see the fear in her eyes-a newfound distrust. I knew it well. I felt the same way about myself. I didn't know me anymore. Didn't like me anymore. Didn't trust myself anymore.

Despite everything, Christy stuck it out. She apologized, too-for lying about her reasons for going to the pet store, for endangering us all, and for never telling me about Brandon. She insisted once more that she'd never slept with him, that it hadn't been like that between them, and I told her that it didn't matter.

And so we stayed, spending our days and nights together but apart. Or maybe I should say spending our nights together, since there were no f.u.c.king days. Time was just one big night. One big after dark. You know that old saying, "it's always darkest before the dawn"? Well, it was true.

Except the dawn never came.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

There was a knock on the door a few days later. When I opened it, Russ pushed past me and dashed inside. He was out of breath and appeared nervous and worried.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He held up a finger, silencing me, and glanced into the living room. "Is Christy here?"

"Yeah. She's pulling marijuana seeds out of her bag and trying to plant them in with the house plants."

"Christ. Still with the weed? Even after the cl.u.s.ter-f.u.c.k at the pet store?"

I shrugged, then nodded.

"How's she gonna grow them? There's no sunlight."

I shrugged again. "She thinks she can shine the flashlight on them a little bit every day. She's desperate, you know? Somehow I don't think our connection is gonna have any more weed for a while. In truth, I don't even know if he's still in town. And that Brandon douche bag is gone, too, I'd imagine."

"Seems like a waste of water."

"Yeah. But it keeps her happy. What else am I gonna do?"

"I don't know. Do what you have to do, I guess. How you guys been holding up?"

"We're okay. You?"

"Surviving. This separation s.h.i.t is hard. I've been ducking out once a day, walking the streets and seeing what I can find out. It feels good to talk to people, even just for a little while."

"What if something happens? What if they p.i.s.s you off and you snap?"

"Then at least they were a stranger, and not a friend, like you guys or Cranston."

"That's true," I agreed. "Still dangerous though, dude."

"s.h.i.t, Robbie. You have no idea."

"What do you mean?"

Russ paused. He seemed to be debating whether to continue, so I prompted him.

"What's on your mind, Russ?"

"I don't know if Christy should hear this or not. Maybe we should go upstairs."

"Why? Is it bad?"

"Hear what?" Christy walked into the kitchen, brushing potting soil from her hands.

Sighing, Russ plopped down in a kitchen chair and folded his hands on the table. His expression grew even more troubled. I studied him closely. He didn't look good. There were dark circles under his eyes, and the whiskers on his face were turning gray. I tried to remember if they'd been gray before the darkness arrived. I didn't think they were.

"Jesus, Russ," Christy said. "What's up with all the f.u.c.king drama? Who died?"

"Maybe us, if we're not careful. I just talked to Cranston. He's been sneaking outside, too. Not as much as I have, but a little bit each day. He sticks to our block. Only talks to people he considers safe. But he's scared and p.i.s.sed off. To be honest, I'm p.i.s.sed off, too, after what he told me. Apparently, T and Mario have been skulking around outside, making noise about us and how we got their friends killed."

"Who are T and Mario?" Christy asked.

"Two yo-boys who went with us when we tried Robbie's plan to breach the darkness. They lived. Their friends didn't. And now they blame us."

"f.u.c.k them," I said.

"And I said the same thing," Russ agreed, "but there's more. Cranston says they've got new people listening to them now."

"Who?"

He shrugged. "Cranston didn't know any of the newcomers. Just strangers. But they're not just juvenile delinquents like T and Mario. There are other folks-older people. And they're looking up to T like he's some kind of leader. People are p.i.s.sed off and scared and looking for someone to blame. And apparently, T's got a few of them convinced it's all our fault."

"How many?"

"Not too many, so far. Maybe six, all told. But if it keeps up..."

Christy's eyes were wide. "You don't think they'd kill us, do you? From what Robbie said, what happened to their friends wasn't your fault."

"Yeah, but they don't see it that way," Russ said. "And we all know that the slightest seed of anger or resentment or any other negative emotion is like dynamite these days. So far, they've been content just to lurk out there in the shadows. Maybe they're afraid to move against us. Bunch of little p.u.s.s.ies-pardon my French, Christy."

Despite this new fear, she grinned. "I don't speak French."

"But if they get some braver people urging them on," Russ continued, "or if whatever is lurking out there in the darkness pushes them hard enough, who knows what kind of stupid s.h.i.t they might try to pull?"

"They don't have guns," I said. "Remember? The day we went out there, me, you, Drew, and Clay were the only ones who were armed."

"Yeah, but there's all kinds of guns just lying around. Like the rifle I picked up. There are guns everywhere. How many people in this town went deer hunting every year? Christ, most places gave their employees the day off for the first day of deer season. Same thing with the high school. It was a town holiday. There are plenty of guns inside people's houses. Plenty of ammo, too. And even if they don't have a gun, one of their new recruits might."

"Okay." I paused, considering. "The best offense is a good defense, right? So let's work on our defenses. We know the fire escape is secure. It doesn't reach all the way to the ground. So we just lock the downstairs door-make it really f.u.c.king secure. Then we reinforce Cranston's windows-maybe put plywood over them or something. He's got the entire first floor."

"He's paranoid enough already," Christy interrupted. "He'll never go for that."

"Yes, he will," I said. "Cranston will understand. Either that, or he can find somewhere else to live. We do all that, and we make sure the storm door down in the bas.e.m.e.nt is secure, and just stay away from our windows, and we'll be okay. Right? They can't shoot what they can't see."

Russ shook his head. "What's to say they don't try burning this place down with us inside? Or what if they get in somehow, and try coming at us with a knife, like that Anna woman did?"

I went to the cabinet, pulled out the tequila, and poured each of us a double shot. There wasn't much tequila left in the bottle, and I'd been intending to save it for a rainy day, but this seemed like a good occasion. I was beginning to suspect it would never rain in Walden again.

"Speaking of Anna," Russ said, after slamming his shot, "there's more bad news."

I grimaced as the liquor burned the back of my throat.

"Anna has been telling people what happened out there as well. But in her version, it's all Dez's fault. She's saying that he's some kind of devil worshipper, and that he's the one who summoned the darkness. She says that you and I might have helped him do it, too. I reckon that's on account of me fighting with her. She's also saying that Dez is the one who burned the churches down."

"That's bulls.h.i.t," I said. "He lives in the abandoned shed behind the Lutheran church. Why would he burn the place down? That's like burning down his own home."

"I know, but that's what she's telling people, and they're starting to believe her. Like I said, folks want someone to blame. No, it's not even want. They need need someone to blame. Anna and T are providing them with that. And the bad news is, you and me are the scapegoats. Christy too." someone to blame. Anna and T are providing them with that. And the bad news is, you and me are the scapegoats. Christy too."

"But I didn't even do anything!"

I heard the fear in her voice. It reminded me of how she'd sounded when I confronted her in the pet store. I closed my eyes for a second, willed the memories to f.u.c.k off and take the guilt with them, and then opened my eyes and looked at Russ.

"So what's Cranston intend to do about this mess? I mean, he lives here, too. Why isn't he up here with us for this little powwow?"

"So far," Russ said, "they've left him alone. I don't know why, and neither does he. Maybe they don't blame him the way they blame us. At least, T and Mario don't. But if this keeps up much longer, he says he's going to move."

"Move," Christy exclaimed. "Move where? He can't leave town."

"No," Russ said, "but there are plenty of other places where he can hide."

"Not without interacting with others," I said. "Has he warned Dez?"

"No. n.o.body's seen Dez since...well, since what happened out there on the edge of town. If he's still around, then he's in hiding."

"We've got to warn him," I said. "It wasn't his fault. He was the only one there who actually did anything useful. If they want to blame me, okay. I'll take that s.h.i.t. And they are welcome to bring it. But why f.u.c.k with Dez? Sure, he's a weird f.u.c.ker, but he knows more about this situation than anyone else. We can't let them hurt him."

Christy groaned, and Russ reached for the bottle and poured himself a refill.

"I thought you were done playing hero," he said.

"I am. This ain't playing hero. This is about keeping the one guy who might still be able to save our a.s.ses out of the hands of a bunch of angry, intolerant dips.h.i.ts who want to blame everyone else for their problems. Face facts, Russ. Dez is the only motherf.u.c.ker in this town who has a chance at getting us out of this mess."

Christy shook her head. "But if you go out there, and T and Mario or this Anna person is waiting-"

"f.u.c.k T and Mario. And f.u.c.k Anna, too. We're not staying inside this place like prisoners anymore."

"Why not?" Christy asked. "I mean, we haven't gone outside in days anyway. Aren't we already prisoners?"

"She's right," Russ said. "This ain't a town anymore. It's a G.o.dd.a.m.ned prison."

"This is different, and you guys know it. I'm gonna find him and warn him."