CHAPTER 22

WAKE GRIPPED THE bars of the Bright Falls jail and dreaded the coming of the night. It was dusk and he could hear the bustle on Main Street, car horns beeping happily, kids squealing, all the eager voices excited about Deerfest. They had no idea what was coming.

Wake’s knuckles whitened on the bars as he remembered Barbara Jagger’s words last night, the cruel laugh as she sneered, Did you really think there was going to be a happy ending? The fact was that he had thought so. Wake was used to being in control, being in charge… being a winner. Of course he was going to defeat the darkness and get Alice back. He was going to make it up to her, renounce his past failings and start over. He was the writer. Of course they were going to live happily ever after. Isn’t that the way the story went? Now… Wake beat his fists against the bars. Now he wasn’t so sure.

Barry stirred on the right-hand bunk of the cell, rolled over. His snoring echoed off the concrete floor and painted gray brick walls. He had awakened briefly when Agent Nightingale arrested them in the Anderson brothers’ living room, bleary-eyed and brutally hungover. Barry had begged for a drink, and then curled up in the back of Nightingale’s car in his red parka like a gigantic tomato. He had awakened again when Nightingale dragged them into the station, but while Wake demanded to see an attorney, Barry had stumbled to the bunk and fallen asleep. Wake never got an attorney. Never got to see Sheriff Breaker either, who was out investigating the numerous disappearances in the last twenty-four hours. She should have asked Wake.

Nightingale had confiscated the manuscript pages, had rifled in Wake’s jacket and found them before Wake woke up. In spite of the agent’s gun, Wake had fought him for the pages, but he was still drunk on moonshine and Nightingale had tripped him, cuffed him almost before he hit the carpet. The humiliation burned, but the loss of the pages was worse. He had only read bits and pieces of the manuscript, bits of pieces of what he had gathered over the last few days. He had no idea what the final work would look like, and what effect it might have on Bright Falls.

Wake sat on one of the bunks. He could see the night gathering through the high barred windows of the cell. He could hear a car race down Main Street, desperate to get somewhere fast.

A radio crackled over the intercom, Pat Maine giving his regular update on the upcoming festivities. The man never slept. Wake didn’t blame him.

“Well, we’re expecting a record crowd from the neighboring counties! ” chirped Maine. “Naturally, we hope to break the record set by last year’s Moosefest in our neighboring town of Watery. Ladies and gentlemen, some people have asked me what’s the big deal about Deerfest, and I think that this sums it up: it’s about friendship and community. We’ve got a great party coming up, but let’s try to hold it in until tomorrow and get through the night in one piece, huh? ”

Wake gasped as a sharp pain lanced through his head. He cradled his head in his hands, rocking back and forth. Worst hangover ever. He looked up as Cynthia Weaver appeared in the cell.

Weaver seemed unaware of him, unaware of where she was. She stood slightly hunched over, a lit storm lantern in her hand.

Wake blinked, unable to focus on her. “Miss… Miss Weaver? ”

Weaver didn’t respond, just kept glancing around furtively, her face in the light from the lantern. “I have it, ” she said, mumbling to herself. “Someone will come for it when the time is right, oh yes, they will. Thomas said so. He wrote it. ” She lifted the lamp higher. “The key is insurance. It’s my job to keep it safe, safe in the light. Always in the light. ”

“Miss…” Wake looked around the cell, but Weaver was gone. He rubbed his temples, trying to relieve the pain.

Barry stirred, slowly sat up in his bunk. “My mouth… my mouth tastes like a coal mine. Or a coal miner’s boot. ” He looked at Wake. “Al, I need… need extra-strength aspirin and an IV drip. Stat. ” He looked around. “We’re in jail? ”

“Yeah, the Four Seasons was all booked up, ” said Wake.

Barry groaned. “What… what did we do? Is it because we killed all those Taken? We did do that, right? That was… that was no—” He clutched at his stomach, staggered off the bunk, and loudly vomited into the toilet.

Wake looked away.

Barry fell to his knees and held on to the white porcelain with both hands. He vomited some more, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He flushed the toilet, wincing at the sound as he stood up, unsteady. “I’m never… never drinking again. ”

“Last night you wanted to market the Andersons’ special-formula moonshine, ” said Wake. “You talked about buying an ad at the Superbowl. ”

“I did? ” Barry ran a hand through his scraggly hair, nodded. “Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. ”

“I need to talk to Weaver, ” said Wake. “She’s the one in the song, the lady of the light. ”

“I remember her, ” said Barry, plucking at his lower lip. “She walks around in daylight carrying a lantern. I thought she was crazy. ”

“She’s probably the least crazy person in the whole town, ” said Wake. “Shhh! ” He put up a hand. He could hear Nightingale and Breaker approaching in the hallway. They were arguing.

“What kind of a game are you playing, Nightingale? ” said Breaker. “You can’t arrest people without cause. You haven’t even interviewed Wake. ”

“I had some reading to do first, Sheriff, ” said Nightingale, talking too loudly, “and let me tell you, it was interesting stuff. ”

Wake walked to the door of the cell, craned his neck. He could see them nearby, Nightingale waving the manuscript pages at the sheriff.

“When the reports came over the wire last week, I knew… I knew, ” said Nightingale. “Flew out here the same day. Never thought I’d get a second chance…” He sensed Wake watching him, stalked over to the cell. He was wearing the same rumpled black suit, and his tie was undone and spotted with coffee stains, his eyes puffy and bloodshot.

Wake could smell the booze on his breath, as Nightingale peered at him.

“There’s the one responsible for all the problems, ” he said, jabbing a finger at Wake. He shook the manuscript pages. “It’s all here, all the evidence, including conspiracy to murder a federal agent. There’s no way you’re walking out of here. You hear me? ”

“Agent Nightingale, I intend to talk to your superior, ” said Breaker.

Nightingale spun around to face Breaker. “Sure, why believe me? I didn’t believe my partner either. Finn saved my life, saved it a couple times, but when he started spouting all this mumbo jumbo about dark rooms and dark shadows, I told him he needed a vacation—”

“I’ve already put in a formal request to the Bureau, ” said Breaker. “Your behavior is totally unprofessional—”

“That’s funny, lady. ” Nightingale snickered. “I… I said the exact same thing to Finn. Unprofessional. You’re an agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, I told him. You need…”

Breaker put a hand on Nightingale’s shoulder. “You’re drunk, Agent Nightingale. ”

Nightingale shrugged her hand away. “I never… never drank before Finn disappeared. Never. ” He dragged the back of his hand across his nose. “Neither did Finn. Never took a drop until he started talking crazy. Other agents used to call us the Righteous Brothers because we always ordered club soda after work. Then Finn started going on about the darkness, and I…”

A deep rumbling shook the night, and the lights in the cellblock flickered.

Wake staggered against the bars, grabbing his head and moaning.

“Al? ” called Barry.

Wake closed his eyes. He could see it clearly now, Cauldron Lake, dead calm and black. The water hummed. He looked into the lake, saw the diver, Thomas Zane, falling into the depths. Zane had something in his hand… a light switch. The Clicker. Wake’s childhood shield from his own fear of the dark. What was Zane doing with it? In the dimness, Wake saw Bird Leg Cabin, roots hanging from its bottom like the legs of a monster bird. Through the window of the cabin, Wake could see Alice and Barbara Jagger. Alice was struggling to break free, but Jagger’s long nails dug into Alice’s wrist. Alice became aware of Wake, screamed out his name, but all that emerged were black bubbles rising slowly toward the surface of the lake.

“Al, you’re scaring me, buddy, ” said Barry.

“Mr. Wake! What’s wrong? ” said Breaker, shaking him.

Wake looked up at her, still dazed. He had fallen to his knees and Breaker was by his side. She looked concerned. He didn’t blame her. The cell door was open. Nightingale remained outside, keeping his distance.

“It… it’s a trick, ” said Nightingale. “Wake is up to something. ”

The rumbling was louder this time, and deeper. The light bulbs in the hallway blew out in rapid succession, and Nightingale stood alone in the dark. The cell was faintly illuminated by the streetlights from outside.

Breaker gently helped Wake up, her badge brushing against him. “I’m going to trust you, Wake. ”

“Give me a break, ” said Nightingale.

Wake held on to the sheriff’s slim hand.

“Wake stays behind bars, where he can’t do any more harm. ” Nightingale pointed his pistol at Wake.

“Stand down, Nightingale, ” ordered Breaker.

“The only way Wake’s walking out of there is over my dead…” Nightingale’s eyes were wide in the dim light. “Wait a minute. I remember…” He fumbled through the manuscript pages until he found the one he wanted. The gun still aimed at Wake, Nightingale started reading out loud.

Nightingale felt the situation veering out of his control, but the gun… the gun at least felt steady in his hands. He was ready to fire, resolved that he would let this happen over his dead body…

Nightingale looked at Wake for a moment, glanced around the darkened hallway. …and yet he hesitated. He had seen this moment before, read it in the pages of the manuscript. He was transfixed by the d& #233; j& #224; vu and the horror that he was a character in a story… —the page shook in his hand—…a story that someone had written. Then the monstrous presence burst in behind him—

The Dark Presence roared through the darkness, drowning out Nightingale’s voice, deafening them all. It grabbed Nightingale, jerked him off his feet and down the hallway, bursting through the door to the outside and carrying him off into the night. The manuscript pages fluttered slowly to the floor.

Wake, Barry, and Breaker stared at each other, Nightingale’s abrupt, terrified scream already fading.

Sarah was almost starting to relax. Maybe they could turn this into a win yet.

Suddenly, there was a piercing sound, like guitar feedback, and Sarah thought of Barry Wheeler talking about him and Alan onstage last night — he said they were like rock gods as they fought the Taken. Sarah’s smile faded as hundreds of birds made out of shadows flapped out of the night, hundreds of ravens swarming into the rotor of the helicopter.

The chopper bucked wildly and the control panel lit up, telling her what she already knew: they were going down. Wheeler screamed next to her. She glanced over at Alan. He looked back at her, jaws clamped as he hung on.

⇐ Предыдущая 21 22 23 24 252627 28 29 30 Следующая ⇒