Over the Darkened Landscape (15 page)

“Mike?”

He turned to look at Simone, reached out and touched her face. “Jesus. You’re beautiful.” He leaned over and kissed her on the lips, hard, then grinned and opened the door. “Gotta go,” he said brightly. “Got me a murderer to catch.”

This time the Line had nothing on him. There was no added weight of years, no sense of desperation and sadness fell over him. He had a bounce in his step, felt stronger and more alive than he had even as yesterday’s fresh-faced rookie.

He was also seeing weird shit float by his eyes every once in a while, but with a little bit of focus he was able to mostly ignore that. It wasn’t too hard. The feeling of youth and vitality was enough that he didn’t even care about the hallucinations; he was able to concentrate on just feeling
great
.

There was nobody around on the Templeton side of the Line. Nobody liked to come too near it if they could manage, so this was no surprise. It was raining lightly on this side as well, a drizzle that melded into the Line and quickly soaked him to the skin.

It didn’t matter. Mike started off towards his destination, feeling young again.

After a few blocks the rain began to let up, and soon Mike noticed that he was being followed. A bunch of kids, twenty or more, the youngest only about six, the oldest in his teens. Mike waved to them, but there was no response. They just followed along, faces blank, apparently intent on keeping up.

The police tape was still across the door at the apothecary. He pulled it away and opened the door, flicked on the lights and stepped in. The kids stayed outside, still watching through the windows.

He had no idea what the hell he was looking for. He started with the garbage can beside the counter, saw that Jim and his forensic crew hadn’t touched it. Out went the contents onto the counter top, papers and empty packages and, yes, two cigarette butts.

“It’ll be the package with the green lettering,” came a voice behind him.

“Sonofabitch!” yelled Mike, jumping in the air and spinning around. “Don’t
do
that! My heart’s racing fast enough as it is, without you sneaking up on me like that.”

Danny lit up a smoke, pointed the cigarette at the box he was referring to. “It’s kind of a sedative, kind of a hypnotic. I can’t remember everything Sandy told me about it, but it worked pretty good. Best the stupid fucker could do was lift his hands in the air and cry like a baby.”

The rush from the drug left Mike’s system then, just drained right out and through his feet to the floor, it felt like. Now he felt fear and an almost unbearable grief, ice in his veins and a cold knot in his stomach, and his hands were shaking. He tucked them in his pockets. Hell of a comedown this drug gave.

Mike tried to talk, his voice caught. He tried again. “You
did
kill him.”

Danny nodded. “Hell, yeah. Him and his kid-fucking buddies, coming across the Line with their safe new drug, screwing little girls and little boys.”

“So tell us. Let the law deal with this.”

“I am the law.” Danny blew a puff of smoke into the air. “Don’t you remember?”

“The law doesn’t execute people without a trial, Danny. Not on either side of the Line.”

His former partner walked over and with a hop pulled himself up to sit on the counter. Mike flinched back, then steadied himself; they were now eye level with each other. “This wasn’t an execution, Mike, this was a warning shot. Already, all the pedos who are in on this are thinking twice about coming across the Line.”

Mike thought back to sitting in the car, just before he’d injected the Slow into his system. “I think I saw two thinking about coming across just before I came in, standing at the corner and then buggering off when we showed up. Doesn’t sound like it’s working.”

“Oh, it’s working all right. Just needs a little more time to get through all the thick skulls and remind these bastards that the big head should do the thinking.” Danny stubbed out his smoke and stood the garbage can back up, dropping it in. “And you’ll note you weren’t going anywhere without being noticed today,” he continued, pointing to the crowd of kids outside. There were even more now, close to fifty, it looked.

“What about Sandy?”

Danny closed his eyes for a second, then shook his head. “She killed herself. Once she was done giving Hayes his drugs upstairs she was supposed to come down and tell me. She did, but not before she injected something into her neck.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “Stone dead in seconds, it seemed. When I yelled and tried to stop her, that attracted Hayes, who came downstairs like a great big drunk moose, all dizzy and giddy at the same time.”

Now Mike was all confused. “Then how do you explain her skull being all caved in?”

“Because I was pissed off!” Danny slammed his hand on the counter. “Because she was a stupid bitch for getting herself into this, for killing herself, for getting herself pregnant!”

His eyes widened and his hand went to his mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to say,” he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Oh no,” whispered Mike.

Danny leaned over to lie down on the counter top, face pressed into the glass. The tears grew, quickly became huge, desperate sobs.

“She would have had to leave Templeton.” Mike leaned over and slowly rubbed Danny’s back, looked down on his tear-stained face. “Having sex with Hayes, maybe that started up her period. Between having to leave and being pregnant, she couldn’t handle it. She killed herself.”

Danny nodded, still sobbing. He was holding his beret now, crumpling it in his hands as if trying to squeeze away all of the pain.

“That explains the extra working over you gave Hayes. With your baton?” Danny nodded. “But why did you go and visit him in the first place? And how?”

After a few shuddering breaths Danny sat back up and leaned into Mike’s chest. It felt strange to Mike as he wrapped an arm around his old friend, reminded him that he’d never had an adult to hold him like this when he’d lived here. “He had a stash of Slow on this side of the Line. I tried to warn him to stay away,” gasped Danny. “But he just laughed, and told . . . and told me that he had a friend who might like to visit
me
soon.”

“Jesus.”

Danny nodded. “He knew that Sandy was pregnant. Said he’d take care of that his own way. And then he warned me not to use any more of his Slow. Too expensive to waste on a kid, he said.”

Mike nodded. “Who are the rest of the pedos? Do you have any names?”

Danny reached into his jeans pocket and brought out a crumpled piece of paper, straightened it out as best he could and gave it to Mike. “Four that Sandy knew of. Sometimes Hayes would mention these guys. Only first names, though.” He slid out of Mike’s arm and back down to the floor, sniffling and wiping his nose with his sleeve. “Sorry.”

Mike tried to smile. “It’s okay, Danny. We might find something in his office. Thanks for the list.”

“So what happens now?” asked Danny, trying to brush away more tears.

“I dunno,” shrugged Mike. “It’s not like I can bring you in or anything.” He thought for a second, then said, “I think I’ll just have to tell my captain the truth, see where it goes. It sounds like this is ugly enough they’re gonna want to keep it a little more quiet.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Danny was staring at Mike now, his eyes growing wide.

“What?”

“You took Slow to come across the Line, right?”

“Yeah. Got it from Hayes’s stash. Which is gonna mean bad trouble for me when I go back across.”

“Did you bring enough to go back across?” His voice was barely a whisper.

Mike leaned back against the counter, fear and exhaustion both swamping him at once. “You don’t have any more?”

Danny shook his head. “You took the last vial from Sandy’s room. All the rest I know of are on your side of the Line.”

“Think, now.” Mike pinched the bridge of his nose and tilted his head up, eyes closed. “I am
such
an idiot. Simone has a cellphone, but her battery is toast. She didn’t have time to go get her charger.”

“Did you bring a radio?”

He patted his pockets, already knowing that he’d forgotten the thing. “Slow doesn’t exactly promote forward thinking, it appears.”

“We have a phone back at the station. Connects us with your headquarters.”

Mike held up a hand. “I know, I know.”

“We can call.”

“What, and tell them I took an illicit drug to come across the Line and decide to cover up a murder my best friend committed? I’d call if it was just me, but I can’t get my partner in trouble.”

They were both quiet for a minute. Outside the sun was now shining, and it seemed that most of the kids had left; only a few were still standing around.

“Did you bring your car?”

Danny nodded.

“Take me back.” Mike grinned, but he was feeling scared, and he knew it probably showed, no matter the front he presented. “I guess I’ll put in for early retirement. Maybe I can even qualify for full pension after only three days on the job.”

“Mike, no.”

“Danny, I can’t stay. I can’t.” He squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “You know it, and I know it. If I stay too long I start to age anyway. May as well be old in a place where old people are welcome.”

A long pause. “Right, then.” Danny’s voice was catching. “Let’s go.”

The drive back to the Line seemed too short. Neither of them talked, or even looked at each other, Danny concentrating on the drive and Mike just looking out the window at the buildings and kids as they went by.

At the Line he climbed out, groaning even more from the pain of the ride. He went down on one knee then, and they hugged, tight, knowing this was really going to be the last time.

He stood at the Line for a moment, looking up high into the haze, then back at Danny. “I’ll miss you.”

“Try and enjoy your retirement.” They both tried to smile.

Mike shrugged. “Maybe I’ll use my old age to go knock a few heads, make sure nobody’s thinking about crossing over ever again.”

“It ain’t perfect, but this is still some pretty goofy shit,” came another voice, quiet but definitely amused.

Mike turned back and watched as Simone staggered across the Line, carrying a syringe and the second vial of Slow, half empty. She handed them to him, turned and winked at Danny, then said, “You kiss real nice, Mike. Hurry up and take that stuff; it’s probably not enough to hold back all the years, but it’s better than nothing.” She brushed some hallucinatory thing away from the front of her face, and then sighed. “You kiss like a kid. Felt nice.”

Mike, not sure how long her hit would last, put a hand on Danny’s shoulder and forced a grin, then loaded up the syringe, found a vein, and with only one false start stuck himself.

Taking Simone’s hand, he left Templeton. The extra years bearing down on him were not as heavy as before, and the Slow kept some spring in his step. He closed his eyes, and tried to remember what it had meant to be a kid.

The Day Michael
Visited Happy Lake

T
he house was quiet when Michael got there. Mom was at the hospital for a late shift tonight and wouldn’t be home until midnight, later if she picked up some overtime. And considering the money from Dad was late again this month, overtime was likely.

He ignored the supper she’d left in the fridge, instead nuked a frozen pizza. After he was done with that and a can of Coke he watched some TV, did the little bit of homework he’d brought home, then got himself ready for bed. There was nothing else to do, no friends to see or talk to, and he liked reading in bed the best, anyway.

He’d found some old books at a rummage sale on the way home today, and something had made him buy them. Lucky that Grandma had sent him ten bucks a couple of days ago.

One was a tattered old sci-fi paperback, but the rest were books he remembered from when he was a kid, titles that Mom had likely tossed during one of her cleaning fits:
Tales of the Green Green Woods
, by Walter T. Haywood, a small hardcover, pretty beat up, and a bunch of other books by Haywood, including
Culpepper Frog’s Big Day
,
James Jackrabbit’s Exciting Race
,
How Randall Grizzly Came to the Woods
, and more. Just holding them had brought back warm memories, and he’d decided right then that he had to have them again.

The novel looked interesting, but Michael decided he would check it out tomorrow. Instead, he started to flip through the Haywood books. There were fourteen in total, in varying conditions, all with illustrations on the cover and inside by someone named F.M. Davies. All of the pictures were of the creatures of the Green Green Woods, just as he remembered them. A distant memory cropped up, Michael sitting on the couch and wiggling because he had to pee so bad, until his mother in disgust had finally taken the book from his hands and sent him to the bathroom. He grinned as he remembered the look on her face.

Doubling up his pillow, Michael read
Culpepper Frog’s Big Day
in less than a half hour. Yeah, it was a book for little kids, but the message about conservation was actually pretty decent; how Culpepper and the other animals kept Happy Lake from being drained would teach kids a lesson in a way adults couldn’t.

He flipped to the front of the book, looking for information on when it had been published. On the inside of the cover he saw the words “This Book Belongs To,” and a child had scrawled his name on the line below, “Willy Thornton.” Curious, Michael picked up the other books and saw that all had once belonged to young Willy Thornton. One of them also had the date written in pencil under his name, 1938, in a more adult hand.

Tales of the Green Green Woods
was next, short stories about all of the animals in the woods, and Michael skipped back and forth, reading some stories now, saving others for later. By the time he got to the end of the last story he was starting to feel pretty fuzzy. He read the last few sentences of one story out loud to try and keep awake, half-mumbling and once had even lost his place, then closed the book and laid it on his table, then shut off the light. All in all he felt pretty satisfied, despite his day at school.