Crush (10 page)

“We have to check the doors and the windows,” Kirsty said. “If one of those things got in here, we'd never even see it.”

Jonathan looked around the room and had to agree with her. The walls were too dark; the textured paint on them would provide excellent camouflage for those things. He followed her through the house, checking windows and doors, making sure the house was sealed tight from basement to roof.

“When's your mom get home?” Jonathan asked.

They stood outside a door on the second floor of the house. Kirsty paused with her hand on the knob. “My room's a mess, okay?” she said, not
answering his question. “Can you wait here?”

“Sure,” Jonathan said.

Kirsty slipped through the door and closed it quickly behind her. He leaned against the wall and looked at the door. The knob was made of iron, more of a handle than a doorknob. The door itself looked heavy, not one of those cheap plywood things he had at home. That was good. If those things got in, they couldn't just break the door in. But Jonathan looked along the frame and down, and he didn't like what he saw. A wide gap, nearly half an inch, separated the bottom of the door from the floor. These things, the Reapers, were flat. Could they slip through a hole that size? He wasn't sure, but he didn't want to take any chances.

When Kirsty emerged from her room, Jonathan said, “We're going to need a few things.”

 

They sat on the sofa in the living room. Jonathan stared at the fireplace. He'd made sure the flue was closed, but the hole in the wall made him nervous. On the cushion next to him, Kirsty spun a roll of duct tape on two fingers. Next to her was a bag that held towels, two flashlights, a hammer, some
nails, and Kirsty's cell phone. It was an emergency kit. Jonathan figured they could use these things, and he didn't want to have to search the house if they needed them fast.

“You never told me when your mother would be home,” Jonathan said.

“Well, that's the other thing,” Kirsty said. “She's gone for a few days on business. I couldn't tell her about those…those things. God, I didn't want her to go, but I didn't know what to say to make her stay. So I'm alone.”

“You're not alone,” Jonathan said.

“I would be, without you,” she replied. “What are we going to do, Jonathan? We can't hide in here forever.”

“I know,” he said. But he honestly didn't know what they could do. It wasn't like they could just kill David.

“Why don't we run away?” Kirsty suggested. “I've got my car and enough money in the bank. We could just run away. David would never find us.”

“We can't do that,” Jonathan said, though the idea was appealing. There wasn't anything keeping him here, especially now that his best friend had gone psycho. “David will just hurt other
people. We have to stop him.”

“How?”

“I don't know. I'm not exactly Harry Potter. I don't know anything about magic or the supernatural, except for crap I've seen in movies.”

“Did you ever see anything like this in a movie?”

“No,” he admitted. In movies he'd seen vampires, werewolves, mummies, witches, slashers, and a thousand creatures without names, but he'd never come across anything like the Reapers.

“And you have no idea what they are?” she asked.

“Hell no,” he said. “Why would I?”

“It's just that you two were such good friends. I thought he might have said something to you, maybe mentioned a book of spells or something.”

“A book of spells?” He remembered
The History of the Occult
, remembered David explaining his belief that magic was the first science, the first religion.

“God, I don't know,” Kirsty said, her tone angry. “I'm just scared, okay?”

“I know. I'm sorry. I'm scared too.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes. Jonathan's
thoughts raced as he tried to figure out what to do. He could try talking to David again, but if he was freaking out before Kirsty dumped him, Jonathan couldn't imagine what David felt now. Besides, if Jonathan admitted what he knew to David, he might become a target himself. Though who was to say he wasn't already? David had snapped. He'd blown a gasket and spun out of control. Three people were dead, and he'd tried to kill Kirsty, and those were only the crimes Jonathan knew about. They couldn't go to the police. What would they say?

Hi, officers. There's a kid who's controlling these ghost things that smother people. And, well, yeah, he's being a pain in the ass so could you maybe arrest him, please? Cool. Thanks
.

Kirsty's mother was out of town, and Jonathan's parents might as well be. They didn't give a damn. Hell, if anything happened to him, it would probably take them a week to notice he was gone. Kirsty's suggestion to run away was looking better and better.

“I'm going to talk to David,” he decided.

“You can't,” Kirsty said, clutching his arm. The roll of tape she'd been spinning flew from her fin
gers and rolled across the floor. “He'll kill you.”

“I'll meet him after school,” Jonathan said. “There'll be like a thousand people around. He won't try anything. I'll tell him what I know. I won't say anything about seeing you. I'll just tell him I figured it out, and he has to stop. I'll threaten to go to the cops or something. I mean, he can't get away with this. I can't
let
him get away with it.”

“But what if he won't stop? He's got to know the police won't believe you. I wouldn't believe it myself, except…”

“I can't let him get away with it,” Jonathan repeated. “I just can't.”

As the day wore on, Jonathan's nerves grew raw. Kirsty fixed them a lunch of chicken soup and roast-beef sandwiches, but Jonathan just nibbled at the bread and sipped a few spoonfuls of broth.

“I can fix something else,” Kirsty said.

“No. This is great. I'm just not hungry.”

“When I'm nervous, all I can think about is food, especially Twinkies.”

“Why Twinkies?”

“I used to eat them by the boxful, but I was a total cow back then.”

“Really?” Jonathan asked. “You used to be over-weight?”

“Total understatement. I was a whale. My dad
What an ass.”

“Again, total understatement. He couldn't smile unless someone else in the room was crying. He criticized everything I did. Hated everything I wore. Nothing was good enough for him. He once grounded me for a week because I didn't set the table the way he wanted me to. I used water glasses instead of wineglasses or something. I was like six.”

“Man, that blows.”

Jonathan thought about his own parents. Their indifference was so total, they didn't even bother to comment on his report cards. His mother acted like signing the stupid thing was an act of total martyrdom. His dad just wasn't around.

“So your dad just left?” he asked.

“Not
just
left. He had to make sure me and Mom were good and miserable before he went. One night he sat us both down in the living room and told us that he was unhappy, and it was our fault. He said he couldn't take any more disappointment in his life and thought it best to just leave, because he didn't think we'd ever be the quality of people he wanted to associate with. That's exactly how he put it. We weren't the
quality of people
he wanted to be with, so he was
leaving, and we wouldn't hear from him and we had no one to blame but ourselves.”

“Jesus, what a tool,” Jonathan said.

“After he left, Mom had a full-on breakdown. I mean, she kept buying self-help books and writing these long essays about how we could improve ourselves as people, and she'd make me read these things. It was like it never occurred to her that maybe Dad was the screwed-up one. She totally pissed me off there for a while. I mean, when she wasn't crying over the jerk's leaving, she was all hyped up about projects that would make us better people. She had time-management programs, and she tried to get me to learn French and Spanish. She seemed to be over it for a while. I mean, she still watched every move I made, wanted to be sure I was acting appropriately, but a lot of the weird crap stopped. Then last night she started in again.”

“What happened last night?”

“Oh, I made the mistake of telling her about David.”

“She didn't like him?”

“Are you kidding? He's like a genius from a wealthy family. She wanted me to marry him, and
she's never even met him. She freaked when I told her that we broke up. You'd have thought I'd just told her I'd guzzled a glassful of poison, and she thought David was the only antidote.”

“Well, I know he really liked you,” Jonathan offered.

“I liked him, too,” Kirsty said.

Her response sounded like a reflex to Jonathan, not really heartfelt, but he understood. After all, she'd only known David for a few days. It was natural for Kirsty to be confused about how she felt. Jonathan knew the feeling well.

“I wish I knew how all of this happened,” Jonathan said.

“Maybe he'll tell you.”

Maybe
, Jonathan thought. But he was afraid to ask.

 

Jonathan drifted out of sleep and was startled by the sensation of being covered. Smothered. A Reaper had come for him in his sleep. Desperate to be free, he rolled, but the thing wrapped more tightly around him. He couldn't breathe. It was all over him, surrounding his head. Jonathan kicked, but his feet were tangled in the fabric of the thing.
He swung out with an arm, but it was pinned between his body and the back of the sofa. He tried the other arm and felt the material give. Finally, opening his eyes, he saw the blanket covering him and threw it on the floor. His chest heaved for air, as if he'd genuinely been suffocating.

He looked around, confused by the strange room. The walls were painted a deep brown. The furniture was old and heavy with intricately patterned cushions. Two wrought-iron stands held candles by a large brick fireplace.

His waking mind raced, trying to figure out where he was and how he'd gotten there. Then he remembered:
Kirsty's house
.

Jonathan sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. A cool film of sweat covered his neck, and his pores felt oily.

“You're awake,” Kirsty said.

He turned toward the voice and saw Kirsty sitting in a high-backed chair. Had she been sitting there long? Was she watching him sleep?

A cold tingle ran down Jonathan's back.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“It's after five,” Kirsty said. “I tried waking you up at three, but you were out cold.”

“Damn,” Jonathan said, knowing he'd missed his chance to confront David at school. He could see through the curtains that it was already getting dark outside. If he wanted to speak to David, he would have to go to his house. At night.

“You must have been exhausted.”

“Yeah,” he said, still groggy. “I guess I haven't been sleeping much lately. It must have caught up with me.”

“Do you want some coffee? I made some.”

“Sure,” Jonathan said. “Yeah, please.”

After Kirsty left the room, he blinked his eyes rapidly and yawned. When he stood, the room tilted to the left, then rocked back to the right. Jonathan took a deep breath and waited for the room to level off. He yawned again.

Kirsty returned and handed him a mug of coffee. It was rich and tasted wonderful. Immediately his head cleared. The remnants of his exhaustion faded.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “For falling asleep.”

“It's okay. You've been through so much.” Kirsty put her hand on Jonathan's back. She rubbed slow circles over his shoulder blade. “You can talk to David tomorrow.”

“No,” he said. “We really shouldn't wait. After coffee, I'll head over to his house.”

“That's really brave,” Kirsty said. She leaned her head on his shoulder; her hand continued to rub his back.

The scent of Kirsty's shampoo, a mix of almond and vanilla, filled his nose. He drank more of the coffee and stared at the red carpet. The moment confused him. She was touching him, leaning on him for comfort. Part of his mind was in a full-on panic, and it sent waves of unease through his body. But another part of his mind liked this contact. Needed it. It was warm, and he didn't want it to stop.

“Can you stay here tonight?” Kirsty asked.

The question surprised him. He immediately thought she was making a romantic advance, but that was more his fault than hers. He was so lost in the wonderful moment of contact that he'd forgotten, just for a second, what was happening around them. Kirsty wasn't inviting him to her bed. She was afraid of being alone.

“Let me see what David says,” Jonathan told her. He finished his coffee with one last gulp and put his mug on the cocktail table. He stood up, already
feeling the loss of Kirsty's body next to his. “We might want to go to a hotel or something. Someplace with a lot of people around. We can figure it out when I get back, but I better head over there.”

Kirsty stood up too. She wrapped her arms around Jonathan and pulled him close. She kissed him lightly on the mouth, sending sparks of excitement through his body.

“For luck,” she told him.

Jonathan smiled and held her hand. Together they walked across the living room and into the foyer. At the front door, he let go of her palm and said, “I'll be back as soon as I can.”

“Be careful,” Kirsty said. “You don't know what he might do.”

Jonathan nodded. He opened the door.

Next to him Kirsty gasped.

David stood on the sidewalk only fifty feet away. Shock and anger covered his face like a terrible mask.

High above his head, three Reapers soared in gentle circles, barely visible against the night sky.