[Night Walkers 02] - Paranoia (2014) Page 3

  “Nah, his family went on vacation.” I shrugged and started to back away, my mission accomplished. “I’m just picking up some stuff for my mom. I need to run, but wanted to say hi.”

  “Ah, okay!” She smiled and, with a quick wave, went back to eating. “See you later!”

  “Bye.” I turned and walked away. I smiled ruefully to myself as I walked through the mall toward the theater, thinking I was getting pretty good at the whole casual-eye-contact thing. If only I’d figured out how to approach Mia that way when I met her, I might’ve saved both of us a lot of trouble.

  I bought tickets to the next movie playing and went directly into the theater. By the time it got out, Mom would be asleep, the mall would be empty, and I could go home. When the movie started and I saw it was some kind of sci-fi/old-west combo, I started feeling lucky. As long as Anna’s dreams weren’t too crazy, it should be a good day all around.

  Everything worked as planned when the movie got out. The stores were all closed as I passed them on my way to the parking lot. I scrolled through my phone and was surprised to find that no texts or messages from Disney World had come in during the show. Maybe my friends had finally relaxed a little. That would be a very good thing.

  I was feeling so optimistic I didn’t even hear Thor coming, but he hit me from behind so hard it knocked the wind out of me, and my cheek got sliced up when I hit the pavement. I rolled onto my back, dazed, trying to catch my breath. When I looked up, I met his small dark eyes.

  “That was for Jeff.” I’d known Thor, aka Joey Thornton, for years, and this was the first time I’d ever heard him speak. His words were almost pure snarl, so it took me a minute to make out what he’d said.

  “And I’m not done yet,” he added.

  He pulled back his leg, but I scrambled out of the way just in time. I tried to get to my feet, but I was dizzy and the blood dripping from my cheek and chin distracted me. I fell back onto the hand I’d broken in the fire. My wrist was healed, but I landed wrong and painful tingles shot up my arm.

  “Joey, stop it.” Some guy ran out of the shadows near the mall and grabbed Thor’s shoulder, pulling him back. The guy was a little older, maybe eighteen, and a little smaller. Something about his face looked ragged, like he’d lived a hard life; his eyes looked older than the rest of him. I met those eyes on instinct. I’d literally rather watch anyone dreams—seriously, anyone’s—than Thor’s. He’d been Jeff’s best friend, and after Jeff died in the fire, Thor blamed me completely. He’d been furious ever since.

  Never mind the fact that Jeff had started the fire and was a psychopathic killer—no, it was clearly my fault.

  “Get off me, Cooper.” Thor shook his shoulder and the other guy dropped his arm. They both backed toward the other side of the parking lot.

  Cooper looked at me over his shoulder. “Sorry, man.”

  I got to my feet without a word, pressed the end of my sleeve against my bleeding cheek, and stumbled back to my car. Maybe today hadn’t been so great after all.

  Leaning against the car door, I watched Thor and his friend climb into the backseat of an already-running sedan. A girl sat in the driver’s seat. Her short blond hair shimmered almost white in the moonlight streaming through her window. Even from across the parking lot, she seemed afraid … or maybe upset. Her motions were jerky as she turned the wheel, and I could hear Thor and Cooper yelling at each other in the backseat.

  Not all that surprising that she seemed scared. I didn’t know anyone who would be comfortable driving around in a car with Thor bellowing in the backseat.

  By the time I got home, cleaned the many scrapes on my cheek, started the camcorder, and got into bed, I was exhausted. It was only an instant before I went into the white void that was my version of sleep. I hoped this Cooper guy made better choices in dreams than he did in friends.

  From the moment when I felt the odd vibration that normally signalled I was about to enter my Dreamer’s dream, I knew something was very wrong. Immediately, everything turned a solid, inky black. It was unlike any other dream I’d ever seen. It was deep and heavy … and it kept getting heavier. The gloom pressed in, closing so tight around me I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe …

  And I couldn’t escape.

  chapter three

  When I finally woke up and was released from the hellish dream back into reality, my head threatened to explode with every beat of my heart. Even the light coming through my closed eyelids was like a knife slicing through my brain. The blankets I’d slept in, my pillow … even my bed was gone, and I was sprawled out on something very hard and cold. Whatever it was, it was not helping my horrific headache. My body ached everywhere and my stomach churned in my gut. Something smelled horrible, like a dusty old urinal. I raised my arm and shaded my eyes as I tried to open them. Peeking out between my fingers, I saw—flannel. Red flannel … and then it moved.

  I sat straight up and my vision burst into violent white, like a light bulb had exploded behind my eyeballs. Then everything went dark, all but a pinpoint of glaring brightness in the center. Leaning back, I found what felt like a brick wall and rested against it, panting—and panicking.

  All around me was confusing noise: a loud printer, a phone ringing in the distance, metal on metal, footsteps. And then, so close I could reach out and touch them, many people breathing: heavy breathing, light breathing, a cough here, a sniff over there. Someone laughed an emotionless, empty chuckle, but it echoed around me, through me, and I couldn’t decide which direction it had come from.

  This time I took it slower, parting my eyelids just enough to peek through and see a small slice of the room.

  Everything around me was dingy white, with gray benches along all the walls. Other people sat or stood nearby—all men—and a few stared at me. I widened my eyelids a bit more and noticed the one detail that defined everything else. To my left, the white bricks I leaned against ended at a wall of gray bars.

  Jail.

  What the hell is going on?

  My mind flew into a frenzy, trying to force the bars I was staring at into any kind of logic. To make them fit into one of the boxes I had that could make any sense—but I knew there was only one possible explanation.

  Darkness had taken control.

  I heard the low chuckle again and this time I recognized it … and which direction it had come from. Slowly, I turned my head to face the back corner of the room. There he was, arms folded as he leaned against the wall, giving me that cold smile that was all too familiar even though I hadn’t seen him in months. He looked awful—one eye was swollen and bruised, knuckles caked with dried blood.

  “You … ” The word barely escaped my tight throat and wasteland of a mouth. My voice was a croaking thing that tried to bridge the gap between us and bring Darkness back into my mind where he belonged, where I could at least attempt to control him.

  But nothing happened. Darkness even seemed amused by my pathetic effort and his cruel smile spread further across his face. He wasn’t listening anymore, and at least for the moment, I couldn’t make him.

  Just like he’d promised, the last time he’d spoken to me the night before the fire, he’d gotten control again … and this time he’d made it a lot farther than Mia’s old backyard. This time he’d managed to cause enough trouble to land me in jail.

  “Well, looks like Sleeping Beauty is finally awake.” The rough voice came from directly across the room. I struggled to open my eyes wider and shift my attention to the stranger. My right eyelid refused to cooperate and started to throb when I tried again. Reaching one hand up, I gingerly touched the swollen skin around it and realized I had a nasty black eye and banged-up knuckles to match the ones on Darkness. Perfect.

  I groaned. Thor had scratched up my chin and cheek in the parking lot, but my eyes had been untouched. This was all new … gifts from my psychopathic alter ego.

  Through my one good eye, I tried to locate the voice talking to me. Since everyone was staring, it was hard to
tell who it was until a massive bald guy wearing a denim jacket spoke and I recognized the voice:

  “Have sweet dreams, Princess?”

  I laughed under my breath at the bitter irony of his choice of words and shook my head slightly. Just the one move sent my world spinning, and my stomach clenched down tight in pain. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Darkness wincing from our shared discomfort. He closed his eyes and slid down into a sitting position. The next instant, Baldy lifted me by my shirt and pinned me against the wall. My vision dimmed around the edges.

  “Something funny?” he growled, his breath smelling like rotting meat. Someone outside the cell yelled for him to release me, but he didn’t even seem to notice.

  “No.” My voice came out as scratchy and raw as before. “But if you don’t put me down, I’m going to hurl on you and that might be a little funny.”

  Then I gagged, which added unintentional emphasis, and Baldy immediately dropped me, mumbling under his breath as he walked back to the other bench. I fell onto the floor and closed my eyes as I waited for the intense nausea to subside.

  “Maybe you should stop angering the locals.” Darkness’s words were soft, but they carried as though on surround sound inside my head.

  “Shut up.” My growled words were unintelligible through my tight teeth, but I knew he’d understand me anyway.

  “That’s why I stopped drinking. Got real tired of wanting to die the morning after.” A new voice spoke and I flinched away from it instinctively. “Easy now. I’d think, after last night, you’d at least know I wasn’t going to hurt you. Of course, don’t do me much good to stop drinking if I’m going to end up back in here anyway—but at least I’m feeling better than you.”

  Opening my eyes, I saw the older man in red flannel crouching over me. He extended a hand, and although he was missing half his teeth and I could see track marks up his arm, his face was kind. I gripped his hand tight and he helped me onto the bench.

  “I have a hangover,” I muttered, more as a question than a statement.

  The man wheezed as he took a seat next to me. “Yeah, I’d bet you do. When they brought you in last night, you were more alcohol than human, I’d say. Tried to pick a fight with just about everyone in here, all with the guard watching. By the time your friend over there finally laid into you, everyone thought you deserved it.”

  “Sounds like I did.” Between the bizarre suffocating dream and Darkness taking control, something had gone really wrong last night. The problem was … I had no idea what.

  The old man looked at me sideways and raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s something I wasn’t expecting—humility. Do yourself a favor, kid, and stop drinking. It brings out the monster in you.”

  “Tell me about it.” I swallowed hard and ignored the barking laughter coming from Darkness’s end of the room. There was no point arguing with or even responding to him when no one could see him but me. That kind of thing would get me locked away in a completely different room. “Where are we?”

  “Newton City Jail.” The man’s eyes studied me with pity now, and for a moment I was glad Darkness at least had given me the alcohol excuse. “You don’t remember much about last night, then.”

  “Nothing.” My brain felt sluggish, refusing to find the information I needed. I didn’t expect to remember what had happened when Darkness was in control, but I couldn’t even remember a nearby city named Newton. I gently probed my fingers against my throbbing face. “Umm … remind me where Newton is again?”

  The stranger frowned and looked even more concerned. “About an hour south of Cedarville.”

  My mouth said “Ah, that’s right” while my mind freaked out. Darkness had managed to get me drunk, thrown in jail, and beaten up after driving more than four hours from home and crossing state lines? How long was he in control? I’d gone to sleep by about eleven last night. I glanced through the bars and stared at the very plain silver clock hanging on the wall.

  It was eleven thirty.

  I turned and stared at the other me. He grinned and the pupil of his good eye shone almost black as he gave me a quick salute. Darkness had taken full control for more than half a day. And I had no idea how he’d done it.

  I put my head in my hands and closed my eyes.

  “Parker Chipp.”

  When I looked up, I saw an officer standing outside the cell looking at me.

  “Ah, so that is your name.” He folded his arms across his chest. “You refused to answer to it last night. Happy to see you’re coming to your senses.”

  “Yeah, sorry,” I muttered, knowing this was probably just the beginning of the apologies I’d have to make. Starting with Mom. I winced just thinking about how upset she probably was.

  The officer stared at me until I started to squirm. Finally he said, “You don’t even seem like the same kid they brought in here last night.”

  I choked and then tried to swallow. “I’m sorry … Sir.”

  “Your cousin is here to pick you up.” He unlocked the door and slid it open, waiting for me to walk through it.

  “My c-cousin?” At first I assumed it must be Finn, but he was still in Florida. Nothing made sense. I walked out of the cell and the guard closed it immediately. Darkness didn’t make it out in time, so he just walked straight through the bars and the people like they weren’t even there. As if this whole scenario wasn’t bizarre enough without seeing that.

  “Yeah, we got a call from your dad.” The officer barely suppressed a laugh as I froze cold in place, my mind refusing to register anything but the words your dad. He continued, mistaking my reaction for fear. “I imagine you’ll have a lot of explaining to do when you get home. As it should be, if you ask me. Parents are too soft these days.”

  “Parker.”

  Darkness and I turned slowly in place to face the new voice. My head was already spinning. When I finally got turned around, my eyes came to rest on an all-too-familiar emblem: a skull and two eye patches gleaming white on the arm of a black leather jacket. Blind Skull.

  Jack.

  Darkness disappeared from beside me before I could blink, but I didn’t care. All I could see was the hesitant smile on Jack’s face. I launched myself at him, but in my condition, it came across more like a stumble. He swooped under my swung fist so fast I felt like I was moving in slow motion. Grabbing my punching fist with his right hand, he tugged just slightly on it, spinning until my arm landed around his shoulder. I was left standing beside him, leaning against him while he propped up my weight and started shuffling me toward the door.

  In only half a day, my world and mind had become a spinning, colliding mess, and I felt like I might never catch up. I fought against him, trying to free my wrist from the death grip he had it in.

  He said, low enough that only I could hear, “If you want to stay in jail, keep it up.”

  Groaning, I stopped struggling and let him help me to the door.

  “Thanks, Officer!” Jack grunted, smiling over his shoulder as he forced me out the door. “I’ll make sure to keep him out of trouble.”

  Once safely outside, I jerked my arm away, promptly turned, and puked in the bushes. By the time I’d finished, not only was I shaky, weak, and absolutely exhausted, but Darkness had appeared near Jack and was looking as green as I felt, although a lot more composed. I leaned my forehead against the building, letting the cool stone soak into my skin and settle me a little.

  I drew in deep breaths, trying to focus on anything but Darkness’s newfound freedom. I’d have to deal with him later, but it was just too much to fix at once. For now, I’d just pretend Darkness was as nonexistent to me as he was to everyone around me.

  Next to my head was a bulletin board where the police had posted all the Missing Persons alerts for the state. There were so many it shocked me. They took up too much room, layered on top of one another and making a wall of faces in black and white. One of the ones on top had been missing for a month. It was a sixty-seven-year-old African American woman na
med Delilah Jones. She’d disappeared while walking through a city park in broad daylight. There was a plea from her family, saying she was a grandma. Who kidnaps a random grandma from a park on a Sunday afternoon?

  It looked like Oakville wasn’t the only place where weird things were going on. People losing all their money in the middle of the night, strange disappearances, all kinds of crazy stuff.

  Maybe it was spreading …

  “I’m Jack. I take it you remember me?”

  The hint of laughter in his tone made me want to stomp my foot hard into his face. I turned on him, more ready to face him than to think about the freaky questions the missing persons board raised. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” I asked.

  “I’m doing what I was told to do.” Jack stared me down, his brown eyes almost as cold and harsh as those belonging to Darkness, my other unwelcome companion. “And you’re welcome.”

  Once my vision cleared a little, I saw that Jack’s dark brown hair was slightly longer than it had been last time I saw him. His skin was tan, even though it wasn’t technically summer yet. He had stubble across his face and his eyes looked tired. Up close, it surprised me how young he was. He looked older than me but not by much—a year, maybe—even though his mannerisms and the way he spoke made him seem much older.

  “You’re my cousin?” I pressed one hand against the side of my head and tried to make everything stop pounding.

  “No.” Jack gave me an acidic smile. “I lied.”

  “I saw you at my school … and then in the hospital … but then you disappeared.” I tried to sort out what information he could actually provide now that he was here.

  “Yeah. I don’t do school much. I’m self-taught, mostly from books.” He shrugged off the rest of my statement.

  “You said my dad sent you.” I moved away from the wall, feeling a little steadier with the fresh air across my face. “Take me to him.”