The Sacrificial Daughter (18 page)

"Uh...ma'am?" she said to the receptionist. "All I got was voice mail. Do you mind if I wait here for my father?"

The woman's body seemed to droop a little. Clearly she wanted to say no, however she gave Jesse a forced smile. "Sure, but I'm locking up at a half past six and you won't be able to stay after that."

An hour...not much time for her father to get back. Jesse spent her time sweating out the minutes, hoping for the first time since she was just a little girl to see her father walking in the door. She used to like that very much. In fact, they used to be best friends, her father and her. His office had been her playground since she was a toddler and she had sat through more meetings than most adults would ever attend in their lives.

But then he took his first job as town manager. It was in a town rampant with such nepotism that it had been impossible for the previous town manager to fire anyone, since he was related to everyone. The hate had begun then for Jesse. It had started small and then gradually built, and at the same time her father's work began to engulf him.

In the next town they moved to, it was worse.

There the plague had been cronyism, where only those in favor got the good jobs and where only those who greased the right palms got the good contracts. It was a good ole boy network that James crushed under his heel, but in so doing he crushed his own daughter as well. The hatred was dreadful in that town. Jesse turned to her father, but he was too busy. She turned to her mother, but Cynthia turned to helping the poor, something far more self-fulfilling than actual parenting.

Now, in the Ashton Town Hall, Jesse stood staring out the window knowing she could only turn to herself.

"I have to get going now," the receptionist announced at 6:45. "I have to lock up."

"Of course," Jesse replied, smiling and looking the lady in the eye. The girl then took a big breath and held it for a span of three seconds, wondering if was going to be possible to push out the words that were on the tip of her tongue. Jesse needed a ride home. Her mom had told her she would be back after eight, which really meant after nine. Her father wouldn't be home until after ten.

And Jesse was afraid of the walk through the woods. There was a path, so getting lost wasn't an issue this time. The issue was the killer. No matter what her parents said about her not being a likely candidate to be murdered, Jesse felt that the Shadow-man had been near her since she first stepped foot in Ashton.

Jesse needed a ride home and it should have been a simple thing to ask this little favor...only her pride was too great and she couldn't bring herself to do it. After all this was the same woman whom she had made feel stupid only the afternoon before.

"Um..." Jesse said and then her mouth just sat open and her eyes bounced around. The moment became awkward.

"Yes?"

"Uhh...have a good night," Jesse finally said. Inwardly she groaned at her own stupidity. It seemed she would risk her life rather than risk damaging her pride. The receptionist... Jesse swore that if she lived through the night she would ask her father the woman's name...escorted her out the front door and then locked it firmly with a sound that fairly screamed to the dark night—
I'm small and helpless and all alone!
The woman hadn't stepped out with Jesse, she was still safe and warm inside.

"Great," Jesse whispered, swiveling her head back and forth, trying to take in the entire street all at once. At the moment there wasn't anything to see; all the buildings appeared dark and deserted, except the pool hall down the block. That one looked just as packed with people as it had the other night.

The streets were black and wet looking and she hated the idea of walking on them. She felt that she could be seen from a mile away, but without another option she hurried up the block.

Hoping that her all black attire would do something to camouflage her presence, Jesse kept as much as possible to the shadows and there definitely were shadows. The moon, looking like a lop-sided egg, was nearly full and very bright. It was almost bright enough to read by on the north side of the street, but on the other side it gave good gloom and Jesse swept along silent as a cat in her jungle boots.

Her destination was the library. There she would rest, get warm and hopefully summon enough courage to make the trip through the woods to her own little sub-division. She definitely felt that she needed the courage because just then, slipping along like a wraith, she saw shadows move in every dark corner. But then again she wasn't the only one.

"I just saw something move by that red truck," came a girl's loud whisper. Whomever it was seemed keyed up and the whisper carried like a stage whisper.

"Is it that bitch?" John Osterman asked.

"Mother-pus-bucket," Jesse whined under her breath. She'd been caught by John Osterman and his friends. They were close and getting closer in a hurry. She could hear their shoes slapping the pavement as they ran toward her. It was an oddly hypnotic sound and she found herself near to being frozen into inaction by it. The sound also seemed to drain away the last of her energy and she gave in to the weak feeling in her legs by squatting down next to the car in front of her.

Jesse was seconds from being caught...seconds from being beaten, but strangely she forgot about her chain, with its heavy lock, which sat nestled like hard-coiled serpent in her pocket. Where her hands should have been digging at the weapon, they were instead gripping the rear bumper of a Chevy. The car had once been a bright blue, but was now sun-faded and rusting through.

Blue? She blinked at the car, feeling slow witted. They had mentioned a red truck, but this...

Slipping a touch to her right, Jesse was able to see the red truck that had been mentioned. It was four cars in front of her and as she poked her head out, two people came into view, circling the truck. They were searching for her.

In a flash, Jesse pulled herself back and going to her belly was able to watch from under the Chevy four sets of feet walking about.

"There's nothing here."

"I swear I saw something."

"What do we do?"

There was a pause as the little group took a moment to consider. Jesse didn't wait for an answer. The four of them were standing behind the red truck which meant that if she kept very low and got very lucky, Jesse could slip along the edge of the sidewalk to the next block that was all of twenty feet away.

She was close to making it unseen. The corner of the block was dominated by a long red brick building and just as Jesse darted around the corner, she heard a low shout from behind her.

"Right over there," a girl hissed. "I saw something move."

Rubber soled sneakers pounded up the block after Jesse. Yet she didn't run. After turning the corner she saw how fruitless running would be. The street was literally a canyon of brick. There was nowhere to hide. On both sides of the street the walls were flat save for a slight indention here and there where a darkened entrance lay. Worse, the closest parked car sat halfway up the block.

Jesse would never reach it in time. Her lame ankle was making her gimp along far too slowly. Fight or flight...both seemed impossible, which left only hiding as an option. With pain marring her pretty face, Jesse limped to the nearest doorway and pressed herself into it. It was set back only about a foot or so and anyone but a blind man walking by would see her with ease.

Almost too late did she remember her chain and it might have been better if she hadn't. Because Jesse feared that it would get stuck again, she yanked the chain out of her pocket right as she heard the first of the sneakered feet came around the corner. She froze, trying to will herself to meld with the shadows, unfortunately the lock at the end of its steel tether couldn't freeze.

"I swore I saw..."

Gently, the lock swung as a pendulum. First one way...

"...someone come down here."

...and then the lock swung the other way in a silent arc, until:

Tock
—it knocked up against the brick. Jesse's heart leapt into her throat.

"What was that?" one of the girls asked.

"What was..."

Tock
—the lock tapped again; much softer this time.

"That. Did you hear that?"

"Yeah, I heard it, Amanda," John Osterman said, sounding peeved. "It's goddamned water dripping!"

Tock
—now the lock gave the brick only a light kiss on the cheek and it barely made a sound. The breathing of Jesse's tormentors made far more noise, but still they heard it.

"I guess you're right," Amanda said, perhaps hearing the sound differently in response to peer pressure. It was the only rational explanation to Jesse, who had heard the thunk of metal on brick three times and could mistake it for nothing else. But whatever the reason, Jesse was glad for it. The four teenagers did not venture any further down the apparently empty street.

"What are we going to do now?" asked the second girl; probably the blonde girl that Jesse had seen with Amanda. "I'm getting wicked cold."

"You're cold because you dress like a hooker," John said. "And don't roll your eyes at me. Your mom said the same thing, and so did Amanda."

"I didn't! I swear. All I said..."

"Enough!" John interrupted. "We'll go back to the Town hall. Maybe she's waiting for her dad there."

That seemed to end all discussion. Quickly, and in renewed silence, the pack of human shaped hyenas, as Jesse saw them, strode off in the direction Jesse had just come from.

"That was freaking close," Jesse sighed, letting her body go limp. As she sagged against the wall, the lock thunked against it once more. "And you!" she said to her lock and chain, holding it up at eye level as if it were a wayward cat that she had by the scruff. "You're supposed to be on my side." The mute lock only gleamed dully in the bright moon light.

"Apology accepted. Let's go," Jesse whispered.

After looking up and down the street with all the timidity of a doe in hunting season, Jesse took a right and limped at her quickest possible limp toward the library. Compared to the town, which looked to have died the moment the sun had set, the library was like a beacon of warmth. Every bulb in every socket seemed to be burning away. It lit up the night and drew Jesse in as if she were a moth in summer.

And the warmth wasn't an illusion. When Jesse stepped in to the foyer she was giddy with it. She was giddy for another reason as well; the old biddy who had been supervising the mayhem on Sunday night wasn't in sight. A completely different old biddy was at the front desk, this one looked as wholesome as Mrs. Claus.

Jesse liked the mental picture this conjured up. So much so that she didn't spoil it by introducing herself or hanging around for the whispers to start and the hating to begin. Instead, she made her way down one of the back aisles and noted with even more giddiness how relatively empty the library was. There were probably
only
about two-hundred kids running about the place and Jesse was able to find a table in a secluded spot.

The table wasn't exactly unclaimed. There were backpacks sitting unattended on the backs of the chairs, but since they sported Hello Kitty's annoying face, Jesse simply used her superior status as a senior in high school and moved them to the next table over.

"What a freaking night," Jesse said to the ceiling. The moment she had sat down a wave of exhaustion had her leaning back in her chair drowsing. It was the heat coupled with her body draining stress from her every pore that had her suddenly yawning.

"Gotta stay awake," she mumbled, stripping off her leather jacket. This helped a bit, as did taking off her jungle boot and examining her injured ankle. There was a blue crescent bruise under the swelling. Slowly, painfully she began to work her foot in little circles, trying to loosen up the ligaments.

"This is our table. You're sitting in my chair."

A gaggle of what looked to be sixth graders had walked up and now stood trying to appear tough enough to force an older girl off their table. The girl who had spoken was a pig-nosed, little thing with a brassy voice. Clearly she was used to getting her way.

Jesse stretched and settled in comfortably. "How bout we share? There is a table right there with an extra chair. Drag it on over here."

"I don't want to," pig-nosed replied. "I want to sit right where I was. I'll tell Ms Somersby if you don't move."

"Do I look afraid of Ms Somersby?" Jesse asked, giving the girl a cold hard stare. The girl had nothing to say to this, but one of her friend's did.

"What's that for?" She was pointing at the table. Jesse's lock and chain sat there, looking too much like a weapon.

Jesse put a smile on her face and dragged the heavy chain off the table. "It's a lock for my bike. You guys act like..." Jesse paused as all the girl's raised eyebrows of incredulity. "What?"

The blonde, as leader, spoke for the rest, "You rode your bike here?"

For the first time in hours...for the first time since she watched Ky ride away and leave her to her fate, Jesse thought about her bike. Her dad was simply going to kill her.

"I didn't ride actually. My bike was...it has a flat. I had to leave it at the school; I walked here." The girl's all rolled their eyes at this. "What? You don't believe me? Here, feel my hands." They were only just thawing out. The girls were all properly impressed.

"You really walked here? Are you crazy?" the blonde asked. Before Jesse could answer the quietest girl in the group, and the smallest, spoke up.

"I'm thinking she's new in town and doesn't know any better." Jesse nodded at this and the girl continued, but with narrowed eyes, "That's not a bike lock and that's not a bike chain. And it if it was it would still be on your bike, even if you did have a flat. So why do you have it?"

Jesse like her immediately. "What's your name?"

"Emily Johnson. What's yours?"

"Jesse," she replied simply, as always reluctant to give out her last name. With a warm smile that the girls probably rarely got from a teenager, she added, "Have a seat, girls. I won't bite."

They looked at each other for a moment and then as one, they scrambled for chairs. Emily was shoved out of the way and had to content herself with dragging over the extra chair. Jesse skootched over so that the smallest girl there could be near her.

"I like your boots," Emily said picking up Jesse's jungle boot and giving it a quick inspection.

Not to be out done the blonde spoke up then. "My name is Allison. I like your jacket. I'm going to get one of those for my birthday. I'll probably get those boots too. Are they Italian?"

Jesse had to keep from snorting with laughter. She didn't want to scare away the girls so quick, after all. They made as good a camouflage as she was likely to get in a library. Sitting alone in her black outfit she would have stood out like a sore thumb. But with the girls all around her, she could slink down low in her chair and there was a chance that someone might miss her if they were looking for a solitary girl.

"They're not Italian. They're Jungle Boots made for the Army," Jesse explained, letting the girls pass the boot around. "I gotta tell you. They may be stylish as hell, but my feet are freezing." They were too. Jesse had to get her boot back on before her toes froze right off. However, she had to rewrap her ankle first. Part of the reason it had been hurting so bad was that the ace bandage had uncoiled itself, making a lump in her boot.

"What happened to your eye?" one of the girls asked.

The truth...tripping while running in a panic...was too embarrassing to say. Instead Jesse went with what she hoped was a mysterious shrug.

"What happened to your nose?" Allison asked. This elicited more that a shrug.

"Why what's wrong with my nose?" Jesse replied, running her hand along her pert little nose. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with it.

"It's bent a little...that way." The girl waved vaguely to the right. Jesse glanced at the window and saw her reflection and her bent nose. She touched it, pushing it back where it had once sat. It didn't stay.

"Oh, that's just from a fight." She went back to lacing up her boot.

"Is that why you have the chain?" Emily asked, couching her voice in conspiratorial whisper. "Are you expecting to fight someone?" There was a touch of early onset hero worship in her large brown eyes and she was so cute that Jesse wanted to ruffle her hair.

"You can't be too careful, especially in this town. If that freak Harold Brownly thinks..." Jesse stopped in mid-sentence as all the girl's eyes went wide in real fear. "What?"

The sixth graders all looked at one another and then their blonde leader nudged Emily. "Why me?" the girl asked, but she was only nudged again. Emily crouched low as if this would make her words harder to hear. "Never say his name. He can hear you. No matter where you are. And that..." she moved even closer and spoke even lower. "That chain can't hurt him. Nothing can hurt him."

Jesse nearly scoffed, except she noticed the flare of goose bumps on the girl's skinny arms. "Are telling me that this guy had magic powers?" She tried to ask it without sounding completely skeptical.

All the girls nodded.

"He gets his powers from the dead," Allison said, warming to the subject. "He can walk through walls and turn to shadows. If you ever see his giant shadow, just run!"

Now it was Jesse's turn to get the goose bumps as she recalled the Shadow-man in the forest. She shook off the image, knowing that it couldn't be true. "How can you possibly know any of that? I don't want to sound mean or anything, but has anyone
seen
him walk through walls?"

"The police have...sort of," Allison said. This elicited a round of head bobbing from the other girls. "They had his house surrounded for the last two years and he still got past them to do…
you know what
."