After Dark (9 page)

“My ride!” I barked, struggling out of his hold. “I just missed my ride, you nut-bar!”

“Oh, sorry, Charlie … Uh … why don't you borrow mine?” he said. “It's just up this way.”

I almost turned down the offer out of pure frustration, but my feet wouldn't budge, and my sunburn was starting to throb nicely.

“Fine,” I said.

Miles smiled. “Follow me.”

We walked for about a hundred yards through the woods before he cut up toward the street and arrived at his minicycle, which was propped against a tree a few feet off the road.

“This is Shelley,” he said, wheeling it toward the road. “I built her myself.”

“Out of what?” I asked, glancing at the black tubing that wound its way into the shape of a frame and surrounded a block of an engine.

“I pieced her together, using parts from this and that. Bring it to the Voodoo tonight. I'll be waiting,” he said, wheeling it onto the side of Elm Street. “Do you know how to drive a motorcycle?”

“Sure,” I said, hopping on. I might not have my driver's license, but that didn't mean I hadn't had the opportunity to ride a few motorcycles in my time. I'm not saying that's a smart thing to do — it's not. In fact, all three times I'd driven a motorcycle I'd just about killed myself, but you can only travel around the world so many times with your family before someone, somewhere, asks if you'd like to hop on their ride.

I got on and started up the engine. It gave a chugging roar.

“Go easy. It's got a little more juice than you think,” Miles said, and darted back into the trees.

I kind of jerked my way down the road at first but got comfortable pretty fast and upped the speed. Miles wasn't lying; it definitely had some kick, and by the time I got back to the inn I was buzzing along nicely, the breeze soothing my sunburn. I didn't really want to slow down and I would have barreled into the driveway except I remembered what had happened to Miles. So, I let up on the throttle and rolled cautiously into the driveway, not much above a jogging pace.

Mom, Lilith and Johnny were all sitting on the porch, eating pizza. When Mom spotted me, her expression hardened, and she leaped out of her chair.

“What the heck do you think you're doing driving that thing without a helmet?” she yelled.

“It was only a couple of minutes, Mom, and in case you didn't notice, it's not a long fall off of one of these things,” I said, slowly riding the bike down the gravel walkway and right up to the porch steps. “I wouldn't have had to use it in the first place if Johnny hadn't abandoned me.”

“Don't go there, bro,” Johnny said. “You were the one who abandoned me. I was stuck signing autographs for almost an hour.”

“My heart bleeds for you,” I said, stepping onto the porch.

There were two pizza boxes sitting on the floor. I opened the first one, but there was no cheese on it.

“Life's too short to eat pizza without cheese, Lilith,” I said.

“Life is empty with no standards, Charlie,” she said.

“Is that one of Dad's famous sayings?” I said, grabbing a slice from the other box. Not only did it have cheese — lots of it — but it had pepperoni, too.

“You really need to read his books,” she grumbled.

“You don't ride that thing ever again — do you understand me, Charlie?” Mom barked.

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” I said and ripped into the pizza.

Mom let it drop, and we ended up sitting around on the porch, eating pizza and chatting. It was nice not to have to rush anywhere or do anything. It felt like the first time in a very long time that we all just sat around without a care in the world.

“Now this is what summer is supposed to be like,” I said. “Why don't we take a break from the scraping, just for a few days … for the weekend, at least? I'm sure Jake and his boys can handle it.”

“You know we can't do that, Charlie,” Mom said.

“Nice try, bro,” Johnny said, standing up. “And it's been a blast, but I've got to get changed for dinner.”

“Didn't we just eat dinner?” I asked, holding up a half-finished slice of pizza.

“I'm bulking up, bro,” he said, heading for the front door. “Are you still taking me into town, Ma? Elizabeth said my flat tire's fixed.”

“Sure, I'd like to go and grab some ice cream,” she said, getting up, too. “Who's with me?”

“Can I rub it on my skin?” I asked. The sunburn was really starting to sting now.

“You deserve that burn,” Lilith said. “It's not a joke anymore, is it?”

“Don't be so sure, Lilypad. In a week, when my skin is done peeling away, we'll have a good laugh about the day Charlie got scorched. You wait and see.”

“Unless you get skin cancer.”

“What a wonderful outlook you have,” I said, but I don't think she heard me because they'd all gone inside.

Saturday, 7:40 p.m.

By the time I'd eased my sore skin into a wrinkly pair of khakis and a not-quite-clean, plain white T-shirt, the sun was starting to dip beneath the trees. Mom had cajoled Lilith into joining us, even though she didn't eat ice cream thanks to her wacky vegan diet. She also insisted I return Miles's minicycle ASAP, and I told her I thought we could bring it to a place on Church Street where he hung out. So, we loaded it into the back of the pickup and headed for downtown Rolling Hills.

We dropped Johnny off at the garage, so he could pick up his precious motorcycle, and then turned onto Church Street, which was hopping. Cars were cruising up and down the street, folks were wandering along the sidewalk, popping in and out of stores. Lots of people were just standing around, chatting or sipping sodas or coffee. We couldn't even find a parking spot until we were past The Opal, which was okay by me because it put us closer to the Voodoo Juice Bar.

We hoisted the minicycle onto the sidewalk, and a group of about ten girls, all around my age, wandered past and down the alley toward the Voodoo.

“I'm going to drop this off to Miles,” I said. “I'll meet you back at the inn.”

“Don't you want some ice cream?” Mom asked.

“I'll take a rain check,” I said, starting toward the alley.

“I thought you said the walk home was too hard from down here,” Lilith added.

“It's not that hot anymore now that the sun is a little lower,” I said without turning around. Which was true; it wasn't nearly as hot as it had been that morning, although my burn wasn't exactly cooling me down.

“Don't be too late,” Mom called as I wheeled the bike into the alley.

I heard the Voodoo before I saw it. Some kind of electronic music that sounded like it was made by a deranged robot was wafting down the alley. I propped Miles's bike against the wall outside and went in. The place was packed. I recognized a few faces from The Bend that afternoon. Apparently a few of them recognized me, too, because as soon as I started for the bar a group of three girls ran up to me.

“Oh my God! Is Jaysin Night going to be here?” one of them asked. She was short, with shoulder-length brown hair and big brown eyes.

“Unfortunately, he has to do battle with a pack of vampires in another small town,” I said.

“Oh no, really?” she said, her shoulders slumping.

“But hey, I'm his brother, Charlie. Why don't we grab a seat, you could buy me a Re-Animator and I could tell you all about him.”

I think they were about to take me up on my offer when Miles Van Helsing stormed between us and grabbed me by the shoulders.

“Thank God you're here. I could really use your help.”

He was wearing the same black clothes as before, only now he had a black backpack strapped on.

“Miles, you're seriously cramping my style. I was just about to sit down with these lovely ladies and enjoy a delicious Re-Animator.”

“What? Who?” he said, and seemed to notice for the first time that I'd actually been talking to someone. “Well, can't you do that later? I need your help.”

“It'll have to wait,” I said and tried to shuffle by him, but it was too late. The girls were already walking away.

“Did your uncle Hal get back?”

“No,” I said, watching the girls sit down in the corner. “Your Harley's out in the alley, by the way.”

“Her name is Shelley, not Harley,” he said. “Why don't you buy yourself a drink and meet me outside in five minutes.”

“I don't …” I started, but he was already heading for the door.

I ordered my drink from Vortex, who was still wearing a white lab coat. A minute or two later, he handed me a Re-Animator in one hand and a note in the other.

“What's this?” I asked.

He didn't answer, but just walked away and took another drink order.

I took a sip of the Re-Animator and was pleasantly surprised to find it tasted even better than the one I'd had that morning. Then I opened the note. It read:
Notice anything strange?

I hadn't noticed anything strange, and part of me didn't want to humor the man by looking around. I was already too caught up with Miles; I didn't need Vortex making me edgy, too. But it's hard to get a note that says,
Notice anything strange?
, and not look around, so I did.

At first I was relieved, because I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. I took another sip of the Re-Animator and scanned the room for the girl with the big brown eyes. That's when I noticed three guys standing in the far corner, all with jackets on, hoods up and still wearing their sunglasses despite the fact that the Voodoo was a pretty shadowy place to begin with. It wasn't just the hoods and the sunglasses, though. What really got me was the way they were standing — stock-still against the wall, with a look of utter boredom on their faces. No, it wasn't boredom; it was a wooden, completely emotionless look. The kind of look the bodyguards you see surrounding important politicians have — you know they're watching, but they look like they couldn't care less about anything that's going on around them. You could almost have taken them for a bunch of mannequins, but even in the semi-darkness of the Voodoo I could tell they were real people. I didn't like admitting it, but Dr. Vortex was right — they were strange, and not in a good way. That's when Miles came back in.

“Let's go,” he said. “I'm going to get some proof — some video evidence — and post it online. But I need help. I need
your
help, Charlie.”

“Why me?” I said, thinking that, despite the creepy mannequin gang, I'd still rather go sit down with the girl with the big brown eyes.

“I can't drive and record those things at the same time.”

“It'll have to wait,” I said, and started toward the brown-eyed girl's table.

“No, no, no,” Miles said, scampering beside me. “This
can't
wait. I have a working hypothesis that after sundown, those who have been … um … well, changed … become physically stronger somehow. I think it has something to do with UV rays. So, it's imperative that we're present before and after the sun sets.”

“Look,” I said, turning to face Miles, a few feet from the girls' table. “During summer vacation, I like to sleep in, relax, maybe make a few friends, like the fine individuals sitting behind me. What I
don't
like to do is invade people's privacy by secretly recording them with the town lunatic while they change into some kind of imaginary paranormal whatever.”

“So, you admit that people are changing into some-thing.”

“I believe, wholeheartedly, that
you
believe people are changing into something. But that does not mean there is a
we
, Miles.
You
believe people are changing, and
I
believe I'd like to sit down and meet the girl with the lovely brown eyes sitting behind me.”

“There's nobody sitting behind you.”

I turned. The brown-eyed girl was gone, along with her friends.

“I could really use your help,” Miles said.

I glanced around the room. It was no good. They were really gone. And the three mannequins that had been standing by the wall were gone, too.

I threw back the rest of the Re-Animator and slammed the jar down on the bar.

“The three guys with the sunglasses — what happened to them?” I asked, pointing at the back wall.

“They left.”

“When?”

“At the same time as the girls. Right around the time you were telling me about what you like to do during your summer vacations.”

I rushed across the room and out into the alley. It was empty. The sun wasn't down yet, but the light was fading.

I ran around the corner and back out to Church Street. It was still busy; I couldn't spot the girls or the three mannequins. A moment later, Miles ran up beside me.

“How could you just let them walk out like that, with those three guys hanging around?” I snapped.

“They didn't leave together — not exactly.”

“They were obviously …” I started and then hesitated. “They were clearly … well, they seemed a little odd.”

“Yes, they were odd,” Miles said seriously. “Something bad is happening, Charlie. This is my hometown. I know these people,” he said, gesturing toward the street with his hands, “and I don't want them to get infected.”

“Infected?”

“It's just a hypothesis,” he said. “We have to test it first, and then show the evidence to the world. We need to move, Charlie, or it's going to be too late.”

I took one last look along Church Street for the girl with the brown eyes or the mannequin triplets. I didn't see any of them.

“Fine,” I said, “but I want the record to show that the only reason I'm doing this is because I'm lazy and don't want to walk all the way back to the inn.”