Crucifax (39 page)

Erin turned away from him and paced in front of the door for a moment, exhausted and angry and scared, wishing her tears would stop.

"Go back inside, Erin," he said gently. "Stay by the door so I can find you. And if you see Mallory and Jeff, hold
onto
them." He placed a hand on her cheek and gave her a halfhearted smile. "I'll be right back."

Brad's car was stuffy with the smell of marijuana smoke and spilled beer. They'd gone back to Becky's after leaving the Playpen. Jeff sat in the corner quietly drinking a beer while the others all talked at once. Becky sat down beside him on the squeaky, worn sofa and handed him a joint the size of his index finger, saying, "A consolation prize, sport." She held up a light for the joint. "Neil called earlier and told me what happened. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm…" He'd dragged on the joint without finishing his sentence.

"Well, don't let it get to you. I mean, think about it. She's not dying, she's not going to jail, and she's making a buck."

Jeff remained unsociable for the rest of their stay at Becky's, trying to get as stoned as he could because his feeling was coming back. The safe and comfortable numbness was fading away, and the images of his mother were flashing in his mind at a staccato pace like slides being projected on the backs of his eyes.

Brad parked a block away, and they jogged through the downpour. A bone-white flash of lightning brightened the sky, and thunder purred in the distance as they went into Fantazm.

Big storm comin'
…

In the club, Jeff was the first to step forward and pay his six dollars. When he moved aside to wait for the others, he saw her with J.R. She stood with her back to him, but he recognized her. He nudged Brad and said, "My mom's here," pointing her out.

"You want to see her?"

He shook his head.

Brad grinned and said, "No prob." Without walking by Erin, he led them down a side corridor past the restrooms, a cigarette machine, and a bank of pay phones, and into the crowd of mingling teenagers beyond the door at the other end.

Jeff ordered a Coke and looked around for Lily. He spotted several others from school. Paula McGillis sneaked up behind him and pinched his ass; she wore a Crucifax. Noella Coleman and Shawn Cruise tripped over to him, laughing drunkenly, and Shawn tipped a small flask over Jeff's Coke; black-red crosses glinted on their chests.

As Jeff looked at the countless Crucifaxes around him he felt nothing. The deep, clammy fear they had stirred in him previously was little more than a discomforting memory. He had other more personal things on his mind, like what he might do or say if his mother found him. Besides, he was feeling pretty good, feeling the beer and the pot and—

—the arms wrapping around his waist from behind and hot breath against his ear.

"I'm so glad you came, Jeff!" Mallory said, pressing herself against his back.

When he turned around, Jeff faced an older Mallory. Her face was pale and drawn, cheeks hollow, and half-moons of puffy skin hung below her eyes. Her smile was still bright but seemed weary. He caught a vague but unpleasant whiff of the sewer mixed with Windsong perfume.

Mallory's hands moved like those of a blind person, touching his chest, his arms and shoulders, his face and hair, as if she hadn't seen him in years. She hugged him quickly, then pulled away to look at him some more, ebullient despite her apparent exhaustion.

"Are you alone?" she asked.

"I'm with Brad. And a few of the guys. And I'm waiting for a friend."

"Oh? A girl?" She grinned mischievously.

"Um, yeah."

Mallory reached behind him and under his jacket and slipped her fingers into the back pockets of his jeans. "What are you doing later?"

"How much later?"

"After the first song?"

"Well, I don't know, I was going to, um… I don't know." He finished off his Coke with a few big gulps.

"What's wrong, Jeff?"

"Wrong?"
I'm losing you,
he thought.
Mom's screwed up, and there's something
—

Mallory's hands slid up his sides to his neck—

—
wrong
—

—over his ears and into his hair—

—
with me….

—to his face, where her fingertips gently caressed the line of his jaw, his lower lip, sending featherlike tingles over his skin.

"C'mon," she said, "something's wrong. Tell me." Her breath was slightly sour, but not offensive.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Is it her? Mom, I mean?"

"Really, Mallory, I don't want—"

The music stopped abruptly, and the voices lowered, silenced. The lights over the dance floor began to dim, and a deep, practiced male voice spoke over the PA system.

"It's Wednesday… new-band night here at Fantazm!"

Cheers and applause rose from the floor as the voice continued.

"Tonight we're happy to present a local band that's been generating a lot of talk around the Valley."

Mallory put an arm around Jeff's waist and squeezed close to him as they faced the stage.

"Here they come," she said excitedly.

"This is their first live performance, so make 'em feel at home."

The cheers grew to a small roar and blended into one voice as the stage lights slowly came up.

"Please welcome…
Crucifax!
"

Twenty-Seven

An odd sound filled Fantazm, a sound alien to a nightclub for teenagers, a sound that was every bit as startling and spectacular as any music ever played within its walls: reverent silence.

Soft light oozed over the stage, illuminating the band and the tall, thin figure standing at the front. His head was bowed; his silver hair cascaded over his chest and gathered on the shiny black guitar that hung across his stomach. A pale red spotlight spread over him like thin blood, and as the spotlight grew he slowly lifted his head and raised his long arms until they were open wide, as if he were about to embrace the crowd before him. A small, distant sound began, the sound of a gnat flying close to the ear, growing slowly, becoming larger, richer, like a jet in the distance drawing closer.

The teenagers watching attentively began to stir, and the stirring became excited shouts as the sound grew louder and the light brighter.

As the sound crescendoed Mace's arms slowly fell until he gripped the guitar and ripped his right hand over the strings. An explosion of music shook the club, and the teenagers went wild. Drinks were spilled as they waved their arms and jumped and danced.

Mace leaned toward the microphone, opened his mouth, and released a skin-shredding scream that seemed to last much longer than a normal breath would allow, and the scream became a word, and then he was singing. The heavy beat was throbbing through the walls and floor, was felt deep in the bones of the dancing, cheering teenagers, and made the air hum with a hot, crackling energy….

J.R. stood beside Erin at the top of the steps. Unable to find the white Mustang or any other sign of Jeff, J.R. had come back inside shortly before the band began to play. Erin was scanning the crowd, her eyes narrowed to slits as she looked for her children.

J.R.'s eyes were on Mace.

When J.R. was a little boy, he'd seen a nature film that had remained vivid in his memory. The film included footage of a rattlesnake stalking a field mouse. The snake had followed the terrified mouse through tall grass until it was cornered between two rocks. It tried to dig beneath one of the rocks for a moment, then stopped, faced the snake, and waited for its death, its tiny body trembling helplessly. But the snake had been in no hurry and took its time positioning itself before the doomed mouse, slowly, gracefully coiling up, its black tongue flicking in and out. That was what J.R. remembered so clearly: the hypnotic way the snake had curled itself up, the deadly choreography of its movements as its small black eyes remained locked on its victim, and the way the mouse made no further attempts to save itself, as if it was convinced it had no other option but to die, to give in; it could have fought, kept digging, or even hopped over the snake, and maybe—just maybe—it would have lived to see another day. Instead, it had huddled against the rock until the snake's dreamlike movements ended in a blurred strike and the mouse's hind legs and tail hung twitching from its mouth.

As he watched Mace on the stage, playing his guitar, moving with fluid grace, leaning toward the edge of the stage and spreading his arms over the crowd, smiling, his gaze moving over the teenagers as if he were looking into the eyes of each and every one, J.R. thought of that snake….

Lily arrived, wet from the rain, and, shouting to be heard, asked J.R. if he'd seen Jeff.

"We're looking for him," J.R. replied.

She stood with them, looking tired and upset, haggard— far more so, J.R. thought, than a girl her age should look.

On the edges of the crowd, J.R. spotted some other adults scattered around the room. They looked painfully out of place as they stepped here and there, craning their necks to peer through the lake of teenagers, frowning as they searched. He assumed they were some of the parents he'd called earlier. It really didn't matter, though, as long as they'd come to take their children home.

He thought,
Before the snake strikes…

"There he is!" Erin shouted, grabbing J.R.'s arm and pointing toward the stage. "He's with Mallory!"

J.R. followed the direction of her finger. They were on the dance floor near the stage. Unlike the others around him, Jeff was standing still, looking back and forth between the stage and Mallory, who was standing close to him, first with one arm around him, then both. She was holding his hand, stroking his hair; they looked like lovers.

With a shiver of dread, J.R. realized that if seeing his mother strip in a bar wasn't enough to send Jeff away with Mace and his friends, perhaps the temptation of being with Mallory would be the extra needed incentive.

Glass shattered somewhere within the mob of teenagers, and a shriek rose above the music, then diminished and became a shrill laugh.

Erin started down the steps, and J.R. imagined her going down there, being swallowed up by that writhing throng; he held her back.

"Wait a while," he shouted. "Till this set is finished."

Frowning, Erin came back up the steps, watching Jeff and Mallory closely.

J.R. searched for the reverend. Something told him it was not safe to be down there on the floor. Bainbridge was nowhere in sight, but he could still see Jeff and Mallory. She was tugging on his arm persuasively, as if to pull him away from the crowd, but he shook his head. Mallory said something to him, gesturing toward the entrance, then glancing in that direction. She did a double take, then turned to look straight at J.R. and Erin. She turned to Jeff angrily, said something, then stalked away. Jeff followed her, waving a hand, his mouth moving frantically.

"Jesus, they're
leaving!
"
Erin snapped.

"They have to come through here," J.R. tried to assure her.

"We didn't see them come in, what makes you think we'll see them go out?" She hurried down the steps, and Lily followed her.

J.R. paced at the top of the steps as he watched them weave through the swarm of teenagers. The headache he'd expected had arrived with a vengeance….

Erin pushed boldly through the audience, not bothering to be polite. Lily was beside her, but she paid no attention to her.

"Mrs. Carr! Please—Mrs.
Can!
"

Reverend Bainbridge was hurrying toward her; she tried to avoid him, but he stepped in front of her, his face shining with sweat. He lifted a palm to stop her; his hand was trembling.

"Mrs. Carr, I think you should come with me," he said.

"What? Where?"

"Back up there." He pointed to the steps. He turned to Lily and gave her a nervous smile, touching her shoulder. "You, too, dear."

Lily jerked away from his hand, muttering, "Don't touch me.

"Please. It's not safe down here." With a sudden jolt, he let out a frightened cry and quickly stepped aside, looking down at the floor.

Erin looked down, too, and swallowed a scream.

Something dark with matted fur was winding between their legs, around their feet, scurrying through the crowd. There was another right behind. The creature stopped, lifted its head, and looked at Erin with its golden eyes, its lips twitching slightly around its yellowed tusks.

Erin stumbled backward, swung her arm out, and held onto Lily to keep from falling. The creature continued to gaze up at her, and Erin envisioned the thing crawling up her leg, clinging to her coat with its small black claws as it made its way to her throat.

"No, no," the reverend said, taking her arm, touching Lily's back as she turned around, "let's just walk back, okay? We'll just walk back slowly."

The crowd moved around them like a single entity, pathways opening and closing before them, and Erin clutched the reverend's hand tightly in her own, wondering how many of the creatures were in the building, scuttling over the crowded floor.

The reverend squeezed her hand and kept up a soothing patter: "We won't hurry, we won't make any sudden moves—"

Something brushed against Erin's right shin…

"—we'll just wander over to those steps there, okay?"

She felt a tug on the hem of her coat…

"Okay? We'll just keep walking…"

The steps seemed miles away; she wanted to break into a run, wanted to knock everyone out of the way and get to the entrance, get outside and away from the building, except—

—Mallory find Jeff. They were still somewhere in the horde of dancing, shouting teenagers.

"My children," Erin said.

"No, no, we'll worry about them later," Reverend Bain-bridge assured her as he led them up the steps to J.R.'s side. "They're everywhere," he said to J.R., his soothing tone gone, "all over the floor."

J.R. looked out over the floor, his eyes narrowed and searching.

The reverend said, "He's using them to hold us off, us and the other parents."

"Don't the kids notice them?" J.R. asked.