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CHAPTER 20
BARRY SAT DOWN beside Wake on the stage, blue spotlights playing across their tired faces. Heavy metal still boomed from the speakers, but the last of the fireworks had faded minutes ago. Still no sign of any more Taken, the field deserted except for the crushed cornstalks and silent scarecrows. Wake reloaded the shotgun anyway. Wake tried the flashlight again but it was dead. “Maybe there’ll be fresh batteries in the farmhouse, ” he said, checking that the revolver was loaded. He offered it to Barry, but Barry shook his head. “Al… we’ve been really lucky so far, really lucky, ” said Barry, looking out toward where the stage lights didn’t reach, “but maybe it’s time for us to call the sheriff. ” “Oh, that’s a great idea, ” mocked Wake. “Except this kind of thing might be a little out of the sheriff’s job description. ” He stood up. “I’m sure Breaker’s a straight-up police when it comes to a barfight or a husband and wife going at it with the kitchen implements, but what with the Taken and the Dark Presence and Alice at the bottom of the lake, we might be asking her to accept a little too much on faith. ” He slapped his head. “Oh, wait, I forgot, there’s FBI Agent Nightingale. ” He dug out the microcassette player he had taken from Hartman’s office. “Here’s Nightingale at the front gate to the lodge, asking Hartman about you. ” “Me? ” Wake pressed a button on the player. —not… not buying that, said Nightingale, slurring his words. I was tailing Wheeler, and this is the only place he could’ve gone. That means Wake is probably there too! Agent Nightingale, this is private property, said Hartman, and I will not allow you to disturb my patients. Yeah? I can get a warrant. How would your fragile little patients like that? Oh, I’m thoroughly intimidated by your mighty authority now, Agent. Listen, you smug bastard, how would you like it if I busted through this gate and knocked you around a little? Agent Nightingale, first of all, I’m recording this conversation, so you might want to watch what you say. Secondly, you’re not dealing with a hick now. I know the law, and if you can get a judge to grant a warrant, I’ll be glad to cooperate—but you won’t get one. Be advised that any further communications with me are to be made through my lawyer. Wake turned off the player. “Somehow I don’t think we want the steadfast and reliable Agent Nightingale rushing out here to help us. The last time I saw the guy he tried to shoot me. ” Barry stood up, his nylon parka rustling. “So, what do we do? ” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the music. “What we started out to do, ” said Wake. “We’ll go to the Anderson brothers’ house and look around for the message they left for me. ” Barry looked at the nearby farmhouse. “Maybe… maybe there’ll be fresh batteries in the cupboard or something. ” “Great idea. ” Wake walked across the stage. “Let’s check the barn first. There might be a truck we can take after checking the house. ” Barry hurried to catch up. “You know, Al, the Old Guards of Asgard, they were a pretty good band. ” “You’re not going to start playing air guitar again, are you? ” “When we get out of this, ” said Barry, “I don’t want you mentioning that to anyone. ” Wake rocked out, using the shotgun as a mock guitar. “Very funny, ” said Barry. The barn was a large, classic wooden structure that the Andersons had painted bright purple once upon a time. Now it had weathered so that it was the color of a fresh bruise. It took the two of them to swing the doors open, creaking on their rusted hinges. Wake fumbled around for a switch and was stunned when the lights came on. The Andersons must have a direct-payment plan with the electric company, and a fat bank account to cover it. No car in the barn, just a mess of sound and stage equipment, including a full-size Viking ship dangling by chains from the rafters. “Wow, ” said Barry, staring up at the ship. “These guys were really into this Viking crap, weren’t they? ” He put a horned helmet on his head. “What do you think? ” “Tr& #232; s chic, ” said Wake. Barry explored the rest of the barn while Wake looked around the workshop. Plenty of power tools, which he wasn’t interested in, but there were a couple of battery-powered lanterns that still worked. He picked up a blowtorch, shook it. Still gasoline in the tank. He considered carrying it with them, but it was awkward and would have only been effective at close range. Wake remembered the three Taken in coveralls that had rushed him on the stage, the one that had gotten close enough to hit him with a pipe wrench. It wasn’t just the pain of the blow that Wake remembered, it was the… cold, the utter, soul-sucking emptiness that emanated from the Taken. No, Wake didn’t want to kill Taken at close range again. Once was more than enough. “Al! ” Wake dropped the blowtorch, grabbed the shotgun. “Come here, you got to see this! ” It wasn’t fear in Barry’s voice, it was excitement. Wake walked over. “What’s up? ” “Check this out, ” Barry said proudly. Wake stared at the complicated assemblage of copper tubing and glass bottles that surrounded a large, copper tank. Fifty-pounds sacks of corn were stacked haphazardly in the corner. It looked like rats had gotten into them. “What is that thing? ” “What is it? It’s a still, ” said Barry. “You’re even more a city rat than I am. ” “A still? ” said Wake, moving closer. He touched one of the copper coils. “To make whiskey? ” “To make moonshine. ” Barry handed him a quart jar of clear liquid. “Taste it. ” Wake shook his head. “That stuff can be poison. ” Barry took a swallow. He grabbed his throat, rolled his eyes, started twitching, head jerking back and forth. “Barry? ” Barry opened his eyes, laughing. He held out the mason jar. “This is good stuff, Al. ” Wake took a swallow, gasped. “It tastes… tastes like lighter fluid. ” “See, I told you it was good. ” Wake passed him one of the lanterns. “Let’s go check out the house. ” “Fine, but I’m bringing the white lightning. ” Barry took another swallow, and then screwed the lid back on the jar. “Top grade musicians, top grade moonshiners… those Anderson geezers are a national treasure, ” he said, following Wake out of the barn. “Maybe you could ask the government to make room for them on Mount Rushmore, ” said Wake. “There’s no money in mountaintops. ” Barry unscrewed the lid and took a sip, sloshing moonshine down his hand as he walked. “This thing… this thing’s got reality show written all over it. I could sell the pitch in a heartbeat. ” He licked his wrist. “Good to the last drop. ” The farmhouse was unlocked. Wake stood in the doorway, swiveled the flashlight beam across the living room, saw only furniture and a band poster half-peeling off one wall. He turned on the lights. “It’s safe, ” he said, going inside. “Of course it’s safe, ” mumbled Barry. He turned on a floor lamp in the living room, then the lights in the kitchen and a light in the hallway. “Why wouldn’t it be safe? ” The living room was furnished with dated but high-quality furniture. A buttery brown leather sofa with a yellow cashmere afghan thrown across the back and white pine bookshelves. A cut crystal coffee table and an antique, gold-leaf mirror over the fireplace. The carpet on the hardwood floor was a pale gray Iranian weave; Wake had seen a similar one in a New York store for thirty thousand dollars. At the same time, the television was an old-fashioned tube model instead of a flat-screen, and the stereo components didn’t include an iPod hookup. A series of 8& #215; 10 color photos on one wall showed the Andersons performing at concerts around the world. The brothers strode the stage playing V-shaped guitars, wearing Viking helmets, fur vests, and thigh-high leather boots. One photo was taken at an outdoor stadium, the brothers bathed in red light, the crowd in the tens of thousands. Wake remembered the first time he saw them, the two brothers arguing in a booth at the Oh Deer Diner. He remembered one of them, could have been either Tor or Odin, asking him to play “Coconut” on the jukebox, and the simple delight on their faces when he slipped the quarter in the slot of the machine. He wished he could have done more for them. “Nice place. Looks like it’s been recently lived in too, ” said Barry, pointing to the dishes on the counter in the kitchen. “Guess the Andersons have a hall pass out of the nuthouse anytime they want. ” Wake turned on the light at the stairs, walked up to make sure they were alone. There were three small bedrooms upstairs. No Taken, but no note from the Andersons either. He looked out the window. The generator beside the stage was still pumping out diesel smoke, the speakers still blasting out the best of the Old Gods, the field still empty, as though the crowd had gone home but the concert continued. Wake left all the lights on in the bedroom, then walked downstairs. “Did you find it? ” said Barry. Wake shook his head, headed toward the kitchen. Barry turned on the radio, and Pat Maine’s voice purred out. He sat down on the couch, unscrewed the jar of moonshine. “As you regular listeners know, ” said Maine. “I tend to work through the night, but I’m not the only one. Deputies Mulligan and Thornton are taking a couple of moments off their busy schedule to join me here in the studio. Boys, how busy are you now? Deerfest is almost here, isn’t it? I bet that keeps you in business. ” “Hey Al, let’s take a drink every time somebody says ‘Deerfest, ’” called Barry. “It’s been pretty busy, yeah, ” said Mulligan. “Actually, Pat, we’ve been real busy with other stuff, ” said Thornton. “Things which concern an ongoing investigation, so we can’t talk about it, ” said Mulligan. “I wasn’t gonna say anything. I was just saying that we’ve got, you know, other irons to fry besides Deerfest, ” said Thornton. “Deerfest! ” cheered Barry, taking a swallow from the jar of moonshine. “And how would you boys compare your workload to last year’s? ” said Maine. “Things have seemed relatively peaceful to me, but people do tend to get a little wild around Deerfest, don’t they? ” “Deerfest! ” said Barry, taking another drink. “It’s crazy, Pat, ” said Thornton. “There’s been all sorts of trouble this year. Vandalism, fighting, public disturbances… a lot of people missing too. ” Wake looked on the kitchen counter and checked the drawers, but there was no sign of a note. He started a circuit of the living room, checking the desk, the fireplace mantel. “Now, is it just me, or does Deerfest get wilder every year? ” said Maine. “People seem to be more drunk, at least, and they start earlier, and younger…” “And then there’s the Taken, ” chimed in Barry, toasting the radio, “that always adds to the festivities. ” “Oh, it’s definitely not just you, Pat, ” said Mulligan, “but what’s weird is most of the trouble seems to be coming from middle-aged guys, people who oughta know better, you know? The kids are doing fine this year. ” “Well, that’s nice to hear, ” said Maine. “Boys, I want to thank you for stopping by. I’ll let you get back to your patrol. Be careful out there. ” “Sure thing, Pat, ” said Mulligan. “Ditto, ” said Thornton. “Did you hear him? ” Barry said to Wake. “He said ‘Deerfest’ four times. ” Wake stood in the middle of the living room. “No, he didn’t. ” “Four times, ” insisted Barry, taking a drink. “You need to catch up, Al. ” “You have too big of a head start, ” said Wake. Barry stared at the jar of moonshine. “What do they put in this stuff? ” “Packed with vitamins and minerals, I’m sure, ” said Wake. “No wonder I feel so good. ” Barry offered Wake the moonshine. “Here, take your vitamins. Don’t want to get scurvy. ” Wake hesitated, then took a sip. He let it burn slowly down his throat, then took another sip. The second one didn’t burn quite so badly. “I think you may be right. ” “Course I’m right, ” said Barry. Wake took another drink. “He definitely said ‘Deerfest. ’” “Four times, ” said Barry, giggling. Wake took a long swallow, held the jar high. “Four times. ” “Deerfest, Deerfest, Deerfest. ” Barry looked at Wake, eyes drooping. “Am I talking too loud? ” “I really thought the note was going to be here, ” Wake said sadly. “Yeah, ” said Barry, “if you can’t trust a couple of senile, burned-out rock stars, who can you trust? ” Wake sat on the couch beside Barry, passed him the moonshine. Barry flicked on the television with the remote. The logo for the show Night Springs appeared, a spooky shot of a town at midnight, a full moon overhead. “Hey, Night Springs. Wow, that brings back memories. Hey, remember when I got you that gig? Your first real writing job. ” “I didn’t even get a full writing credit, ” said Wake. “It was a start, though. ” “You got paid, didn’t you? ” said Barry, passing back the moonshine. “I got paid, ” said Wake. “You’re welcome, ” said Barry. “Hey, is this one of your episodes? ” The narrator announced the name of the episode. “No, ” said Wake. “Too bad, ” said Barry, switching off the TV. “I’ll make sure you get your residuals. I’m not about to let one of my… my cliumps get screwed. ” “Your cliumps? ” said Wake. “CLI-ENTS, ” said Barry, enunciating carefully. “Don’t make fun of me, Al, you’re at least four drinks behind. ” Wake took the jar of moonshine back, tilted it, and let clear liquid flow down his throat. “I’m… I’m still scared, ” said Barry, looking straight ahead. “Me too, ” said Wake. “Glad… to… hear it, ” said Barry. “I hate being the scaredy cat of the duo. ” “The duo? ” Wake laughed. “What are we, superheroes? ” “I wish we were, ” said Barry, slopping moonshine down his shirt. “Superheroes got it made. ” “They have to wear stupid costumes, though, ” said Wake. “Tights, ” said Barry. “You don’t want to see me in tights. A cape though… I bet I’d look good with a cape. ” Wake looked him over. “I don’t think so. ” Barry stood up, unsteady. He pulled the cashmere afghan off the back of the sofa, tied it around his neck, and ran around the room, the afghan fluttering behind him. “I take it back, ” said Wake. “You look great with a cape. Of course, I’m drunk, so you might have to get a second opinion. ” Barry staggered to the stereo, out of breath. “Wouldn’t matter if I was a superhero. Rather jump in a shark tank with a raw steak in my mouth than walk in the woods at night. ” He looked down at the turntable. “Look Al, a record. Real vinyl. ” “Why would they tell me they left me a note? ” said Wake. Barry switched on the turntable, dropped the stylus onto the record. He sat back on the couch as the needle veered across the record, stopped halfway across, and stuck. Find the lady of the light, gone mad with the night, find the lady of the light, gone mad with the night. “Oh, that’s catchy, ” said Wake, reaching for the moonshine. Find the lady of the light, gone mad with the night. “They didn’t say they left you a note, ” said Barry, head lolling on the back of the couch. “They did, ” said Wake. “In the car…” Barry burped. “In the car you said they left you a message. ” “What’s the difference? ” said Wake. Find the lady of the light, gone mad with the night. Wake sat up, squeezed Barry’s arm. “You’re a genius! ” “About time you realized that. ” Barry took another drink, stared bleary-eyed at Wake. “What… what exactly did I do? ” Wake pointed at the turntable. Find the lady of the light, gone mad with the night. “Okay, ” said Barry. “I thought… thought you didn’t like their music. ” “The lyrics, Barry. The Andersons are telling us to find the lady of the light. The Lamp Lady, Cynthia Weaver. She was in love with Thomas Zane. She knows about the Dark Presence and what it did to him. Maybe she can tell us how to defeat it. ” Barry nodded. “I am a genius. ” “We should go find her. ” Wake stood up, wobbled, and sat down hard. “Maybe later. ” Wake’s fall onto the couch sent the stylus skipping forward, where it caught again. “Much later, ” said Barry.
And now to see your love set free You will need the witch’s cabin key Find the lady of the light, gone mad with the night That’s how you reshape destiny.
“Do you hear that? ” said Wake. “Daylight, ” said Barry. “We should wait for daylight. ”
And now to see your love set free You will need the witch’s cabin key Find the lady of the light, gone mad with the night That’s how you reshape destiny.
“Cynthia Weaver has the key to the cabin, ” said Wake. “She knows how I can get Alice. The Andersons left us a message, just like they said. ” “To the Andersons! ” Barry took another swallow of moonshine, passed the jar over. “To the Andersons, ” agreed Wake. He took a drink, passed it back. “Stay in the light, ” said Barry, passing the jar back. Wake took a drink. “Stay in the light. ”
And now to see your love set free You will need the witch’s cabin key Find the lady of the light, gone mad with the night That’s how you reshape destiny.
Barry yawned. “Kind of a catchy tune. ” “It does… kind of grow… grow on you, ” said Wake. Barry took another drink. Wake took the jar back. “I miss her, ” Wake said softly. “I miss her so bad my stomach hurts. ” “Badly, ” said Barry. “I should have been better to her, ” said Wake. “Not so angry all the time. ” “I wish I was a rock star, ” said Barry. “Must be… must be so cool. ” “I’m going to make it up to her, ” said Wake. “Things will be different. ” “Probably too late for me to be a rock star. And with this body, who am I kidding? ” said Barry. Wake stared at the turntable, watching the record go round and round. He didn’t know how long he sat there staring, but it seemed like a very long time. Not that he was complaining. It was like riding a merry-go-round… with music. Al? Al? ” “I’m right here. ” “Al… next time, can I use the shotgun? I want to blast them. ” “Sure, Barry, you can use the shotgun. ” “You’re a hero, Al. I wish we had video of you onstage blasting away…” “I’m… I’m no hero, ” mumbled Wake. “I’m a writer. ” Barry yawned. “I’m going to take a little nap. Is that okay? ” “No such thing as writer’s block, ” said Wake, nodding to himself. “I bet… I bet I could write ten novels in a year. At least ten. And they… they’d all be bestsellers. ” Barry closed his eyes. ”You do that, Bestseller. And keep watch while you’re at it. ” Wake’s chin dropped onto his chest. He opened his eyes. The record still went round and round on the turntable, the room safe and bright, very bright and very safe. Barry snored next to him. “I’ll keep watch… no problem, ” sighed Wake, closing his eyes again.
Rose didn’t know how the strange old lady got in her trailer. And she looked… wrong, somehow. The woman showed her teeth in an approximation of a smile and traced a finger down Rose’s cheek. “Pretty girl, ” she said. Rose felt as if she was falling asleep, but her knees didn’t buckle. The crone spoke in a whisper, her words ice-cold and dark in Rose’s ear. Rose was lost in a dreamland where everything was drawn in black and gray crayons. The old lady had promised her that all her wishes would come true. She would be Alan Wake’s muse. She was smiling so hard it hurt her face. She crushed a bottleful of sleeping pills into the coffee. Deep down inside, she was screaming in terror.
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