Tommy Nightmare (Jenny Pox #2) (21 page)

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Authors: JL Bryan

Tags: #horror, #southern, #paranormal, #plague

BOOK: Tommy Nightmare (Jenny Pox #2)
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“I did!”

“Good,” Ashleigh said. “We'll make her fear
you and love me. Between those, she'll be way too confused to try
anything.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“It's not a plan, it's common sense.”

“So,” Tommy said. “While we're alone, I
wanted to ask you about our past lives—”

“Not right now, Tommy,” Ashleigh said. “I've
got a headache, a backache, a footache...Darcy’s body sucks.”

“But I was wondering—”

“Just get me the fuck home.”

At Ashleigh's house, Esmeralda was on the
couch, watching a movie on the big plasma screen, and she jumped up
when they arrived.

“There's nothing to eat here!” Esmeralda
complained. “I'm so hungry.”

“There's stuff in the fridge,” Ashleigh
said.

“It's all spoiled,” Esmeralda replied.

“Whatever.” Ashleigh opened the fridge.

The smell hit her like a mule kick to the
gut. Mold was growing on everything, and the milk jug had expanded
until it was almost ball-shaped.

Ashleigh covered her mouth, but she puked
through her fingers. She ran to the kitchen sink and puked her guts
out into it. There were strange, rotten smells from the sink, too,
which just made her vomit more.

“God, that’s horrible,” Ashleigh said.

“I told you.” Esmeralda had a little smirk on
her face.

Ashleigh grabbed Esmeralda's arm with one
barf-splattered hand. Esmeralda scowled and tried to pull away, but
Ashleigh clamped tight, smearing vomit across the girl's bicep.

You'll like it, bitch
, Ashleigh
thought. She hit her with a golden wave of love.

Out loud, Ashleigh said, “Oh, this pregnancy
is really hitting me hard.”

Esmeralda's face softened. “I forgot you were
pregnant.”

“Yeah, it's so hard to do anything,” Ashleigh
said. “You don't mind cleaning all that puke up, do you? I'd do it
myself, but it's so hard. With the pregnancy.”

“Oh, sure!” Esmeralda said.

“In fact, you don't mind cleaning the whole
kitchen, do you?” Ashleigh asked. “It would be such a help.”

“Yeah, that's fine.”

“And take out the trash when you're done, so
it doesn't reek?”

“Whatever you need.” Esmeralda smiled. “I
helped my cousin Lucia when she was pregnant.”

“Good! I could really use your experience and
help.” Ashleigh injected her with another dose of love and then
released her. Esmeralda immediately dug out cleaning supplies from
under the sink and went to work.

“Tommy.” Ashleigh gave him her sweetest
smile. “Can you go to the Piggly Wiggly for us? I'll make a
list.”

Tommy shrugged.

When she'd sent him on his way, Ashleigh went
up to her own room. It was very spacious, with floor-to-ceiling
windows, a walk-in closet, and a private bathroom. It was, in fact,
the master bedroom of the house. Years ago, Ashleigh had persuaded
Dr. and Mrs. Goodling that she should have it, while they moved
into a smaller room.

Past-due notices had arrived for all the
utility bills, so Ashleigh found one of Dr. Goodling's credit cards
and went online to pay them, to keep the house running. Apparently
the credit card company didn't yet know that Maurice Goodling was
dead, with no living heirs, because the charges were accepted.

In her desk, Ashleigh had a PayPal debit
card. This was linked to the account where people all over the
country had made donations to “Ashleigh's Girls,” after Ashleigh's
appearance on Chuck O' Flannery and other national media. The
account held over two hundred thousand dollars, last time she'd
checked, and maybe more donations were still trickling in through
the website. She wouldn't use that money unless she had to—better
to clean out her father's bank account and max out his credit cards
first.

Ashleigh sat on her bed and opened Darcy's diary,
ready to learn more about how the town had been quarantined and
investigated.  A small white card fluttered out from the back
of the journal.  It must have been tucked between the last
page and the back cover.

Ashleigh picked it up.

HEATHER REYNARD, M.D., it
read.  
Office of Surveillance, Epidemiology, and
Laboratory Services.
CENTERS FOR DISEASE CONTROL.
ATLANTA, GA.

“Interesting,” Ashleigh said.  She
continued reading the diary.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Friday evening, Jenny waited at home, feeling
anxious.  She played an old Jean Shepard record to soothe her
nerves, but she had to play it low because her dad had gone to bed
early. The bank manager had hired him to fix up some foreclosed
properties around Fallen Oak, and he came home exhausted every
day.

When it reached seven o' clock, Jenny drove
her old car across town to pick up Darcy. Darcy didn't live in one
of Fallen Oak's nicer neighborhoods, but it was an actual
neighborhood.  Jenny's house was a little way out of town,
basically in the woods, and Jenny didn't have any neighbors close
by.

Darcy stood at the end of her driveway with a
huge canvas purse slung over her shoulder.  She opened Jenny's
passenger door and jumped inside.

“Let's scoot fast,” Darcy said. “My dad's
being a total tool biscuit.”

“Okay.” Jenny pulled out of her driveway.

“Cool car!” Darcy said.

“Thanks.”

“It's kinda old, isn't it?” Darcy asked. “But
I mean in a good way.”

“Yeah, I like it,” Jenny said. “Seth bought
it for me for Christmas.  From Merle Sanderson.”

“He bought you a
fucking
car
?”
Darcy scowled for a second, then quickly went back to her
smile.

“I don’t think it was very expensive,” Jenny
said. “It clunks a lot. Not really that great of a car.”

“Yeah, I guess I'm just jealous because I
don't have one,” Darcy said.  Her tone attempted to be
pleasant, but Jenny thought she could detect something nasty
underneath. “I mean, a car or a boyfriend.  I've never even
had a boyfriend.  Just that one time with Bret Daniels, when
we sinned really bad.  I mean, he sinned my brains out.
 But he never acted like he cared about me after that.”

“I'm sorry.”

“That's how boys are, I guess.  They act
like they love you, but then they don't really care at all.”

“They aren’t all like that,” Jenny said.

“But I think they are,” Darcy said. “I bet
even Seth might leave you.  They really are jerks
underneath.”

“I don't think so,” Jenny said. “We're pretty
happy.”

“I mean, I saw how he just dropped Ashleigh
all of a sudden, and she cried so much after that.”

 Jenny found it hard to imagine Ashleigh
Goodling in tears, unless it was to manipulate somebody into doing
something for her. “Seth's been really nice to me,” she said.

“Oh, I don't mean to say anything bad about
him,” Darcy said. “Just guys in general.”

Jenny glanced at Darcy's pregnant belly and
decided not to argue.  Darcy had her own bad experience to
cope with.  A huge, life-changing bad experience.

“Anywho,” Darcy said. “You
like
Chronicles of
Narnia
, right?  ‘Cause I brought the
DVD’s.”

“Sure,” Jenny said.  She’d never seen
it, nor had a strong desire to, but she was trying to make
friends.

“I also brought the
Lord of the Rings
trilogy if you want to watch that.” Darcy grinned. “We can do
a movie marathon!”

“Okay,” Jenny said.

They stopped by the Little Caesar's, located
in a half-empty strip mall on the edge of town, and got a pair of
pizzas for dinner, plus a two-liter of Coke.  At Jenny's
house, they set up camp on the living room couch.  

They played the movie on the cheap DVD player
Jenny had bought with her own money, since her dad thought there
was no point moving on from VHS, even though DVD players were only
like twenty bucks now.  They had to keep the volume low
because of Jenny's dad sleeping at the back of the house.

“We should have gone to
Seth's house,” Jenny whispered as
Chronicles of Narnia
began. “But his
parents are in town.”

“His parents don't like you?” Darcy
asked.

“Pretty much.  They think I'm a dope
fiend who corrupts their perfect son.  They don't even know
we're together.”

“Oh, that won't work,” Darcy said.  She
bit into a pepperoni-topped square of pizza.

“Hopefully they'll get over it.”

“I doubt it.  People like that—rich
people, you know?—they only like their own kind.  They can
tell we don't belong with them.”

“They just never gave me a
chance.  But they
loved
Ashleigh.”

Darcy smiled, then quickly pushed it to a
frown. “That's what I mean.  The Goodlings had more money.
 I mean how's it going to work when he goes to college,
anyway?”

“I don't know,” Jenny said. “I don't really
want to move to Charleston.  I just don't like big cities.
 The idea of leaving town scares me.  And my dad needs my
help around here.” Jenny had the odd feeling that a weight was
lifting from her shoulders, one she hadn’t even noticed.  She
never got to talk about her relationship with Seth, or anything
girls might talk about. Just sharing her fears made her feel
better.  

She was almost tempted to tell Darcy
everything—about the Jenny pox, and why Jenny couldn't live
anywhere with a lot of people—but she swallowed back that urge. As
much as she needed to talk about it, it was much too dangerous to
tell anyone.

“Did you tell Seth you don’t want to move to
Charleston?” Darcy asked.

“We’ve talked about it,” Jenny said. “He just
acts like I’ll get over it and move there with him. But big cities
make me panic.”

“What does he say about that?” Darcy reached
for the two-liter and refilled her own cup. “Want more Coke?”

“Sure, thanks,” Jenny said. “The thing is
that Seth used to want to go to Clemson, where his grandfather
went. And that would be totally fine, because it’s
tiny
and
it’s in the middle of nowhere. I could cope with that. But his
parents are really the ones who want him to go to Charleston,
because his dad donated a bunch of money there, I think. And they
say he’ll make more ‘connections’ in the city.”

“Meaning other rich kids,” Darcy said.
“People his parents will like.”

“I guess.”

“But then that means…huh.” Darcy chewed on
her lip and turned toward the TV.

“What?” Jenny asked.

“I kinda don’t want to say. Let’s skip
it.”

“It’s okay. What are you thinking?”

“Well, you know,” Darcy said. “If he always
ends up doing what his parents want, and his parents don’t want you
together…”

Jenny thought about it. Seth’s dad did seem
to have a lot of control over Seth’s choices. Seth and Jenny had
been together for almost five months now, and he’d kept it secret
from them. He’d even changed his mind about colleges when his dad
told him to.

“I don’t think…” Jenny began, but she
couldn’t finish the thought. Darcy might actually have a point.

“Plus all those other girls he’ll meet,”
Darcy said. “I mean, tons of pretty girls, from richer families
that his parents will like. You know?”

“Yeah, but…” Jenny knew she was right. Seth
wasn’t just cute and nice, and even funny when you didn’t expect
it. He also had his healing touch, the one that made everyone feel
better when he touched them, erasing anything from a cold to
cancer.

“The girls will be all over him, too,” Darcy
said. “And I mean there’s gonna be thousands of them. Not like
here.”

“But Seth can’t leave me. He’s the only one—”
Jenny cut herself off. She had almost said,
he’s the only one I
can touch
. She began to feel panicky. There wouldn’t be any
other relationship options for her, but he could have any girl
pretty easily. It hit her just how vulnerable and powerless she was
in their relationship. He was really holding all the cards.

Her eyes stung, and she fought back tears.
She didn’t want to think about losing Seth.

“Oh, crapsies,” Darcy said. “I’m such a dodo.
I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I was just thinking about how
guys are.”

“No,” Jenny said. “It’s okay. You’re right. I
need to figure out what I’m going to do. I just wish he wasn’t
moving to such a big city.”

“Here, let’s do a toast.” Darcy raised her
glass, which featured Joanie from
Happy Days
. Jenny’s mom
had bought the whole set of commemorative
Happy Days
glasses
at the flea market, not long before she died. “To guys. And how
much they suck.”

Jenny laughed and raised her matching Richie
Cunningham glass. The two girls clinked their glasses together, and
they drank.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Tommy stood in the giant kitchen at
Ashleigh’s house, making preparations for a huge pot of chili.
Esmeralda was shouting in Spanish over in the living room. She’d
been on her cell phone for twenty minutes.

“My mother is giving me so much shit,”
Esmeralda told him when she returned to the kitchen. “I told her I
needed a break and I went to Mexico. Are you actually cooking?” She
looked at the pinto and garbanzo beans, the beef he was browning in
the skillet.

“One of my specialties.” He touched a small
bowl holding chopped jalapeno and habanero peppers. “Think you can
handle these?”

“Oh, please. You should try my mother's
cooking.” Esmeralda unscrewed the small glass jar of habanero
peppers. She lifted one out by the stem.

“Careful,” Tommy said. “Those can burn you.
You don't want to get the juice in your eye.”

“You think you are so tough.” Esmeralda
lifted out a second hot pepper and offered it to him. “I bet you
won't eat this.”

Tommy took it by the stem and looked at it.
“That's a lot to eat all at once.”

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