Part 29 (2/2)

Maybe he was a freakin' fruitcake and not the good kind of fruitcake either. No icing. The kind of dried fruit that either broke fillings or curled tongues. Cake dense enough to pound nails with . . .

And I'm so totally babbling.

She'd faced demons, disasters, and h.e.l.l itself with more composure. What was it about this guy?

For that matter, what was this guy?

The circle of light swept up the underside of the staircase, then flicked across the concourse to illuminate the window of a gift shop where a line of porcelain dolls sat with their eyes squeezed shut. Hard to tell for sure at such a distance, but they looked much the way Diana felt. The old man couldn't possibly be seeing the Otherside contents of the stores or he'd have surely reacted to the rude gesture being made by a well-dressed teddy bear propped up behind the dolls. First teddy bear Diana'd ever seen with articulated fingers.

If he followed the path of the light, if he kept it pointed in the same direction, he'd be heading away from them, down one of the short arms that turned the lower concourse into a weird kind of enclosed ”y.” He'd be heading into territory controlled by the dark side. Diana wondered how they coped, if his light had any effect or if his overlap only included the elves.

Did it include Keepers?

Something about the way the hair lifted on the back of her neck suggested it did.

Standing motionless, listening, he kept his flashlight beam trained on the gift shop window. Let them think the useless pieces of pretty debris held his attention. Let them grow complacent and move. Or better yet, let them grow afraid as they waited. Let their muscles tense and their limbs begin to tremble. Let breath catch in their throats and their hearts flutter as they tried to make no sound he would be able to hear.

Let them finally break from cover, unable to stand still any longer.

He would have them then.

Not sneering, not laughing. Hard/soft bodies caught and held.

They had no business being in the mall after closing.

They had no business being so young.

There.

He rocked his weight back on one heel, spun to the left, and whipped the light across the concourse.

Diana stifled a gasp as Kris jerked back against her, although whether she was gasping at the sudden increased contact or at the flashlight beam that swept the tiles inches from the toes of Kris' Doc Martens, she couldn't say for sure.

shunk kree, shunk kree.

You can't see us . . .

The old man came closer. The puddle of light spread until Kris was standing with her heels together and her toes splayed almost a hundred and eighty degrees apart. Feeling her begin to totter, Diana slipped an arm around the guard captain's waist. They were pressed so closely together their hearts began to beat to a single rhythm. Why that rhythm seemed to be reggae when the boots were still banging an old Nancy Sinatra hit on the other side of the window, Diana had no idea.

Then, finally, the light began to move on down the mall; east, the way they had to go. But better to have the ancient nutbar in front of them than behind.

shunk kree, shunk kree.

As he pa.s.sed, his head slowly turned, and he peered into their rectangle of shadow. His eyes narrowed. His grip s.h.i.+fted on the flashlight.

You can't see us . . .

<script>