After Dark (11 page)

“I'm not talking about steroids, Charlie. I was going close to thirty-five miles an hour, for Pete's sake.”

“That's pretty fast.”

“Pretty fast? After what I saw last night, I looked up how fast the best sprinters in the world can run. Do you know how fast they go?”

“Thirty-five miles an hour?”

“Around twenty-four miles an hour. That means the man in the blue suit was running eleven miles per hour faster than the fastest sprinters on the planet, and he was doing it while he was lifting you up with one hand. That's not human, and it's not rabies or drugs,” he said. “Do you know what they were doing when I found them around back?”

“I don't think I want to know,” I said.

“They were standing in Mr. Baxter's barn, in a triangle, staring at each other. They weren't talking — they were just standing and staring. That's classic hive-mind behavior.”

“Okay, so what do you think we're dealing with?”

“I don't want to make any outlandish guesses, but I'd say we're definitely dealing with some kind of vampire- or zombie-like transmutation. Possibly even an extraterrestrial infection.”

“Whoa, whoa there, hoss,” I said. “Do you hear what you're saying? I don't think anyone's going to believe a vampire-zombie-alien transmoosomething theory, with or without video evidence. We've got a seriously messed-up situation on our hands — I'm with you on that — but I don't think we need to tell anyone that there are vampires running around Rolling Hills.”

“Actually, I think their attributes are more closely associated with zombies,” Miles said, looking thoughtful. “The blank looks on their faces, their jerky movements, the strange behavior, it's almost as though they're being driven beyond normal human limits by some other entity. It's like they're puppets. Perhaps it's a mind-control drug or a secret government implant of some sort?”

“Or maybe they're just good-old-fashioned crazy, Miles.”

“Insanity is a possibility,” he said, “but that wouldn't explain the fact that it seems to be spreading. I've never heard of insanity being passed from person to person.”

“How do you know it's spreading?” I said, scanning the front yard for any signs of movement.

“Last night, when I first saw the Baxters, they were chasing the large man in the navy blue suit. Later on, and tonight, he was working with them. Plus, Dr. Vortex and I have noticed a few other people in town acting in a rather peculiar way. Even you noticed those guys at the Voodoo.”

“Sure, but they might've just been antisocial.”

“That's why you went running after them when they left?”

“Look, Miles, it doesn't matter if they're crazy, on drugs, or if they're vampires —”

“More like zombies,” he said, cutting me off.

“Vampires, zombies — call them zompires for all I care!”

“Zompires? That's a ridiculous name.”

“It doesn't matter! When my mom gets back, I'll tell her what happened, and we'll get the sheriff up here and he'll investigate. Then, we'll all check into a hotel about five hundred miles from here and forget about all this over a frosty lemonade by the pool.”

“I couldn't run away like that, and I can't hide anymore, not with my camera out there somewhere,” he said and peeked out at the front yard again.

“Don't be crazy,” I said, taking a quick look myself. There was no sign of any movement; the leaves weren't even rustling in the breeze. The only noise was the crickets chirruping.

“Miles, don't be crazy,” I said again, but he was already slinking down the porch steps.

“Don't!” I called, rushing after him.

Miles was already at the bottom when I heard the sound of a truck coming down the road. A few seconds later, the glow of headlights appeared, cutting through the night.

“It's my mom,” I said, and then realized that the Baxters and Man-Bear could be lurking close by, ready to spring.

“We've got to warn them,” Miles said, obviously thinking the same thing.

I bounded off the porch, and we sprinted across the lawn. We were about fifteen feet from the driveway when Mom pulled in and immediately ran over the wagon attached to Miles's minicycle. There was a popping crunch, and she backed up.

“What the devil was that?” she asked, bursting out of the truck.

“My wagon!” Miles cried, running over. “My wagon!”

“Why is that thing parked in my driveway?” she asked.

“Keep it down,” I said, grabbing her elbow. “We need to go inside and call the sheriff.”

“Why was there a wagon in the middle of my driveway?” she said, pulling her arm away. “Is the truck okay?”

“You don't understand,” I said, glancing around. “We need to call the sheriff immediately. Miles was right — there
is
something weird going on in this town.”

Lilith hopped out of the truck and kicked the tire that'd done the damage to the wagon. Then she squatted down and ran her hands over it.

“I think the truck is fine, Mom,” she said, standing up.

“We've got to go inside,” I said. “We've got to call the sheriff.”

“Look, Charlie, I'm going to park this truck, then I'm going to go inside, put my feet up and relax. Then, and only then, will I permit you to explain to me what you're babbling about.”

“Sure, sure,” I said, grabbing her elbow again and hustling her back to the truck. “Let's just get inside, fast.”

“Move that miniature motorcycle, Miles!” she yelled, climbing in behind the wheel.

I winced, sure that the Baxters and Man-Bear were going to come tearing into the driveway at any moment.

Miles grabbed Shelley and the wagon, which was no longer attached to the minicycle, and rolled them into the grass, glancing left and right like a nervous rabbit.

Mom parked, got out and headed for the front door. Lilith was right behind her.

“This is good,” I said, trotting along beside them. “Let's all get inside.”

“Wait!” Miles said, as we started onto the porch. “Wait! You could drive me back to the Baxters' house. We could get the camera. Collect the evidence.”

“What's he talking about, Charlie?”

“They chased us,” Miles blurted, before I could answer. “They attacked us. If we drove back in the truck, I could get the camera and show you the evidence, Mrs. Harker … I mean, Ms. Autumn.”

“Who attacked you?” Mom asked, actually looking a little concerned.

“The Baxters,” I said, glancing around. “Can we talk about this inside, please?”

“Why would the Baxters attack you?” She'd unlocked the front door, and her hand was on the handle, but she wasn't opening it. “What were you doing?”

“We were simply investigating their property,” Miles said. “A routine investigation.”

“With a video camera?” Lilith asked.

“We were gathering evidence,” Miles said matter-of-factly.

“So, let me get this straight,” Mom said. “The two of you were snooping around the Baxters' property with a video camera, and you want me to call the sheriff because they chased you away?”

“They attacked us,” I said.

“How exactly did they attack you?”

“Can I explain it inside?” I asked.

“No, you can't,” she said, taking her hand off the handle and turning to face me.

“Well, you see, they had a friend with them, a big guy, and he grabbed on to my shirt while I was in the wagon you just ran over. He lifted me out of it with one hand.”

“For the record, he was running beside us at approximately thirty-five miles per hour,” Miles added.

“So,” Mom said, her eyes narrowing, “you trespassed on our neighbor's private property, got chased away and then you escaped in the wagon?”

“It was attached to Miles's minicycle,” I said. “The guy would've killed me, too, if I hadn't thrown Miles's video camera at his face.”

“There's no way that toy motorcycle can go thirty-five miles per hour,” Lilith interjected.

“It can go faster than that,” Miles said, puffing out his chest a little.

“Charlie,” Mom snapped, “you obviously annoyed those people by invading their privacy, and then you threw a video camera at their friend's face. It's a good thing I
didn't
call Sheriff Dutton.”

“But they're not normal,” Miles said.

“I'll admit it, Miles, it sounds like they overreacted,” Mom said, “but I don't know how long you've been bothering them. Quite frankly, if you keep showing up around here at night, I might think about chasing you down the street, too. Especially if you start snooping around with a video camera.”

“But —” I started.

“No! No buts,” Mom barked. “Miles, go home,” she said, pointing into the night. “Charlie, come inside. We'll work this thing out with the Baxters tomorrow.”

“You can't send him out there now,” I said. “At least give him a drive home.”

“No,” Miles said. “I can get home on my own. It will give me the opportunity to collect the camera on the way. Then I'll be able to show you the evidence, Ms. Autumn.”

Before I could stop him, Miles bolted off the porch and disappeared into the dark. A moment later, I heard his Frankencycle sputtering to life again.

“Don't do anything crazy, Miles!” I shouted.

“I think you're too late,” Lilith said and followed Mom inside.

I listened to Miles's minicycle chug and cough its way out of the driveway, and then went in, too, locking the door behind us.

“Leave the door unlocked,” Mom said. “Johnny doesn't have a key.”

“I'll wait up for him,” I said.

“Fine,” she said, “but I'm going to bed, Charlie. It's been a long day, and I'm dead tired.”

I watched them trudge up the stairs, and then I scuttered into the sitting room and waited for Johnny to get back.

Saturday, 10:53 p.m.

Not long after Mom and Lilith had gone to bed, I dragged a chair over to one of the tall windows that looked out over the front yard and Elm Street. I sat down, waiting for Johnny to arrive, and I guess at some point I must have dozed off. It was Johnny's voice that finally woke me up.

From somewhere, way back in my mind, like a cloud crossing in front of the sun, I heard him saying, “Hey, dude, can I help you with something?” And then, in the same dark recesses of my mind, I was getting up, unlocking the front door and telling him to get inside. I could see the Baxters and Man-Bear marching across the lawn, straight at Johnny, their faces blank, their pointy fangs glinting in the moonlight. But I was already there, dragging him inside and locking the door behind us. Only, I realized I wasn't awake and dragging him inside, I was still asleep, sitting in the chair. I knew that — I knew I was still asleep. That's when I woke up.

I jumped out of the chair and looked out the window. A full moon was perched low in the sky, floating up there like a giant, glowing balloon lighting up the porch and the front yard. There was no one out there, but Johnny's motorcycle was parked on the edge of the driveway, beside the truck. That proved he'd been outside. But when? Where was he now?

“Charlie!” a voice hissed.

I jumped and realized I had to pee really badly.

“Charlie!” the voice said again, and Lilith slipped into the sitting room. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“It was Johnny,” she said, sliding over to me and glancing out the window. “He was outside.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, he was talking to someone.”

“Who?” I asked, but I had a feeling I already knew the answer to that.

“Come on, let's go,” she said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward the front door. Before we plunged outside, though, I pulled back.

“Lilith, I wasn't joking tonight. There's something weird going on with the neighbors. I had a dream … I think … I think they were just here.”

She furrowed her eyebrows and pursed her lips. “Then we should hurry,” she said, yanking me toward the door and throwing it open.

The first thing I noticed was the utter silence. There weren't any crickets chirruping anymore.

“It's this way,” Lilith said, and she pulled me off the porch and across the lawn, toward Johnny's motorcycle.

“How do you know?” I said, glancing around.

She pointed down, and I noticed a series of light indentations in the long grass that were clearly going toward the driveway. It looked like there might have been four or five people out here. Seeing those tracks made my bladder ache. If the Baxters showed up now, I was going to need a new pair of pants.

“There,” Lilith said, pointing at a spot in the trees on the other side of the driveway where a few of the branches were broken and bent. “They must've gone in there.”

“We should tell Mom.”

“No time,” she said, letting go of my arm and sprinting for the trees.

“Lilith!” I barked, but she didn't stop.

I didn't want to go in after her. I thought there were probably about five thousand better ways we could handle this situation, but I couldn't let her go by herself. So, foolishly, and with a bladder that threatened to explode with each step, I followed her into the trees.

“Lilith!” I hissed, barreling along blindly, hoping I wouldn't run smack into a tree. “Lilith! Where are you?”

She didn't answer, but I figured she must be close.

“Lilith!” I yelled, a little louder.

No answer.

My swollen bladder jiggled in my gut.

“Lilith!” I cried.

No answer.

I ran through a spiderweb and was busy wiping the sticky threads off of my face when I tripped over a branch and fell sprawling, face first. Thankfully the ground was covered in about an inch of spongy leaves and didn't do any damage, but I couldn't ignore my need to pee any longer. I jumped up and relieved myself, keeping a lookout for anyone trying to sneak up behind me. There were no angels singing this time; I was all business.