Part 5 (2/2)

The path leading up to the Jefferson place was a lot easier to negotiate thanks to the moonlight lighting the way. As the house came into view, Emily felt her pulse begin thrumming in her wrists. What if Simon wasn't there? Worse, what if something had found him before she did?

As they topped the steps, Emily saw Simon's car parked off to the left of the house, just beyond the corner of the garage. So he had made it this far, at least.

A shape materialized just beyond the car, and Emily let out a sigh of relief as Simon stepped out of the shadows and onto the gravel path.

He was alive.

Emily's feeling of relief disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.

There was something wrong with Simon. The way he stood, his hands draped at his sides, his eyes wide open, staring directly at them, his mouth a thin slit, the way his chest barely seemed to move. It looked like Simon, but it just didn't feel like Simon. His energy just felt unnatural.

She felt Ben start to move from her side toward his father. Heard his ecstatic cry of ”Daddy” as he took a step closer.

”Stop!” Emily yelled, her voice like a crack of thunder in the stillness of the virgin night, her hand automatically reaching out and grabbing the little boy's shoulder, slowing him before he could get out of her reach. ”Stop,” she said again, more gently this time, as she swung the boy around and dropped down to face him. ”That's not your daddy, Ben. That's...someone else.”

”No!” he yelled at Emily while at the same time tearing loose of her grip. He turned and sped across the gra.s.s toward Simon, his little legs eating up the ground at a frighteningly rapid pace. The spell that had grasped Emily so firmly broke; she was back in reality watching as the boy raced across the fifty or so feet separating them from Simon.

”Oh, Jesus,” she whispered, casting a quick glance over her shoulder. Rhiannon must have sensed something was not right with the scene because she seemed glued to the spot of gra.s.s she was standing on, a look of horror and confusion painted across her pale face.

”Stay here,” she ordered the girl. Then Emily was off, chasing after the kid, her feet sliding on the damp gra.s.s, searching for traction.

Simon did not move to intercept them; he stood as still as the trees behind him, his face expressionless and his hands resting flat against his thighs, like a soldier at attention.

There was maybe twenty feet left between the kid and his father when a blur of motion exploded past Emily on her right and made like a missile directly for the running boy. It caught up with him in a second, skidding to a stop between the child and Simon, blocking the kid's path. Ben collided with the flank of Thor, bounced off him, and flew three feet backward through the air, a surprised ”Oomph!” whistling from his throat as he landed on his b.u.t.t on the gra.s.s.

”Bad For! Bad doggy!” the little boy cried, his voice a high-pitched wail as he struggled to get to his feet. Thor was back at the kid's side in a second, dancing around the child and keeping him from standing.

It was all the time Emily needed to scramble after the boy and close the final gap separating her and Ben. She grabbed the spluttering kid with one arm under both of his shoulders, scooping Ben up in one fluid movement, even as he struggled and kicked against her, pulling him tight to her side.

Despite his son's obvious distress, Simon did not move to help him.

”Daddy!” Ben cried, both hands reaching out to Simon. ”Iwannnnntmyyydaddddddy.”

Perhaps the sound of his son's voice struck a chord deep within Simon's mind or perhaps it was simply coincidence, but as Ben's sorrowful howl faded into the dark, Simon took a single jerking, almost robotic, step toward them.

”Oh, s.h.i.+t!” The first step was followed by another hesitant, wobbling step toward Emily and the boy.

Thor was back at her feet now, his attention focused on the boy under Emily's arm, until he caught sight of Simon's tottering steps in their direction. Snarling, the malamute turned and faced the advancing man.

”No!” Emily yelled. ”Come here, Thor. Back up.” The dog threw a look at Emily, then back at Simon, who had moved another step closer. For a second, Emily thought Thor was going to disobey her and attack, but an instant later he was at her side.

She began to back away from Simon, unwilling to turn her back on him for a second. Ben cried his father's name, both hands reaching out toward the shuffling figure.

Simon's face remained expressionless, seemingly unmoved by his son's dilemma, but with each step he took his head swayed slightly-first right, then to the left, as though the muscles in his neck were unable to hold the weight of his head. If it hadn't been for the almost ramrod-straight posture of the rest of his body, she might think he was drunk.

With each faltering step forward Simon took, Emily managed two backward. If she didn't have Ben tucked under her arm, she would have simply turned and run for her life, but she had to think about Ben and Rhiannon. She had no idea what was wrong with their father, but there was no way she was going to let him get close to either of them until she figured it out. She didn't want to hurt him, but if he had suffered some kind of breakdown or the red dust had managed to affect him in some way, then she was going to have- Simon teetered out of the long shadows of the trees and into a bright pool of moonlight.

He was fully illuminated now, and Emily could see there was something very wrong with him.

Slick black tendrils, each edged with small wicked-looking barbs, glistened in the light of the moon. Emily could see two of them jutting out from either side of Simon's spine just above his shoulder blades. They arced up above his head and back into the shadows, as though they sprouted from the very darkness itself. A third snakelike tentacle spiraled from the darkness and attached to the back of Simon's head, terminating at the point where Simon's spine met his skull. An instant before Simon took each step, Emily could see the barbed tubes pulse as though they were moving liquid under pressure from whatever was hidden in the darkness to Simon. Or maybe they were issuing instruction, she thought, as the tentacles throbbed again and Simon took another faltering step, as if on the command of some strange puppet master.

Emily swung a struggling Ben around so his head was pressed deep into her shoulder; there was no telling how he would react if he saw his father like this. The boy squirmed and complained, but she kept him pressed as tightly to her as she could without risking suffocating him. She took another step backward, then braced and forced herself to turn away from Simon and whatever was controlling him.

Standing in front of her, rooted to the spot, was Rhiannon, her jaw hanging loosely open, a look of abject terror spread across her face. Emily could see the girl's eyes were wide and fixed on her father; there was little doubt the girl had seen what Emily had seen. Well, there was nothing she could do about that now. She had no idea what had captured Simon, but, if her previous experience with the new life-forms wandering the planet were anything to go by, they weren't there to say hi and invite themselves to a Mets game. The most important thing right now was to get them all as far away from here as possible. She could figure out what to do next when they were all safe.

”Rhiannon,” Emily said as loudly as she could without frightening the girl or the still-wriggling boy clasped in her arms. The girl didn't even register Emily's presence; she just kept staring back at her slowly advancing father. Emily chanced a look back over her shoulder. Simon had moved a few steps closer; he was near enough now that she could make out the bloodless pallor of his skin and the black pits of his eyes.

”Rhiannon!” Emily spat, her voice sharp enough to cut through the terror enveloping the girl. Her eyes flicked to Emily, then darted back to her father, then back again to Emily. This time they stayed fixed on her. ”I need your help, baby. I can't explain what's happening to your dad, but we have to get out of here, right now, okay?”

Rhiannon's eyes stayed locked with Emily's for a second, then drifted back toward Simon. He was close enough now that she could hear his feet dragging through the damp gra.s.s, snapping twigs underfoot like a character from some bad zombie movie. It was all Emily could do not to scream and run. Instead she spoke as calmly as she could, ”Honey, we have to get out of here. We have to get you and your brother to the Jeffersons' house, now.” The words tumbled from her mouth in one breath, but still the kid refused to move.

s.h.i.+t! Think. Think.

”We have to get the dweeb out of here, Rhiannon. Do you understand me? We have to save the dweeb.”

Recognition flickered across Rhiannon's face for a moment; it wasn't much, but it was enough. Emily s.h.i.+fted the boy from her right arm to her left, grabbed Rhiannon by the sleeve with her free hand, and pulled her in the direction of the house. The girl stumbled backward for a few paces, still looking back at her dad, but then she shook free of Emily's grasp, swung around, and started to stride toward the house. Emily could see a glint of tears trickling down her cheek, but there was a resoluteness to her face now that Emily thought she had seen in her own face during the first few days after the rain. The fear was there, too, in her eyes, but the kid was doing her best to keep her foot firmly on its throat.

Thor ran right alongside Rhiannon. Occasionally he would stop, look back, and glare at Simon. Then he'd wait for Emily and the boy to catch up and then run on to catch up with Rhiannon, who was quickly increasing the gap between Emily and her brother.

”Rhiannon,” Emily yelled between panting breaths. ”Head for your dad's car.” She wasn't sure the girl had heard her, but Emily saw her change course away from the house and head toward her father's parked car. Rhiannon reached the car and pulled open the unlocked pa.s.senger side door. Instead of jumping in and slamming the door she stood in the V of the open door and waited.

”Give me my brother,” she demanded, holding her arms out for the boy as Emily caught up with her a few seconds later.

”Here,” said Emily, lowering the boy down to the ground. Ben immediately grabbed his sister around the waist, burying his head into her stomach. ”Don't let him out of your reach,” she warned the girl.

Emily looked back to where Simon was. He was still advancing toward them, inexorably placing one foot after the other, but he was terribly slow, plodding almost. It was as if the dynamics of walking were alien to whatever had taken hold of Simon, which, she surmised was probably closer to the truth than she cared to admit. Emily had a sense of something dark looming in the shadows just out of sight, but it kept to the darkness as though trying to convince them that it really wasn't there. That was fine by Emily. It gave her time.

She ran around to the driver's side of the car and pulled open the door, feeling for where the ignition should be and, hopefully, the keys. The ignition was empty. She slipped her hand between the center console and driver's seat, checked the cup holders and glove compartment, just in case. Finally, she flipped down both sun visors, hoping Simon might have stashed the keys there. He hadn't of course. And why would he have? They were probably in his pants pocket.

There was no way she was going to head back through the woods in the dark with whatever this thing was on the loose. Under its control, Simon was barely able to move at the pace of an eighty-year-old, but who knew how fast it really was? And who was to say what would happen if it suddenly decided to drop Simon and come after them directly? She had to get the kids to safety, and the only thing resembling that was the Jeffersons' home.

”Come on, Rhiannon. Bring your brother. We're heading to the house,” Emily said as she jogged back around the vehicle to the pa.s.senger side. Ben was back on his feet and standing next to his sister; her hand was clamped firmly around his. He seemed to have calmed down a little but refused to look at Emily, shrugging off her hand when she ushered him gently in the direction of the house, allowing his sister to lead him instead.

Emily walked behind the kids, occasionally glancing back in Simon's direction, as she and Thor herded the two children in the direction of the front door of the house.

Ben clung to his sister, his legs unable to keep up with her faster pace. He had to give a little skip every other step to keep up with her. Emily was surprised at how quickly Rhiannon had seemingly accepted the situation and adapted; gone was the prissy ”Valley girl” demeanor, and in its place was a cold determination, almost a fatalistic acceptance. Emily wondered whether the whole att.i.tude thing had simply been a coping mechanism for her, a cloak to cover her fear and a wall against the reality that existed just beyond the safety of her family's valley.

Their feet crunched over the gravel path leading up to the front door of the house. Emily sprinted ahead and tried the door; it was unlatched. She pushed the door open and turned on her flashlight, illuminating the hallway.

”Thor,” she called. The dog sprinted from the kids' side and into the house, disappearing into the darkness beyond the reach of her flashlight. Emily looked back at the kids stumbling toward her. She stopped them at the threshold. ”Let Thor check the house for us first, okay?” She did not want to risk trapping them all inside the house, only to find there was another of whatever that thing behind Simon was waiting for them.

Thor reappeared at the end of the corridor; tail wagging, he rushed to the kids' sides and wheeled around them.

”Okay, move, kids. Get inside now.”

Rhiannon pulled Ben inside, and their two shapes disappeared into the blackness of the corridor, quickly followed by Thor. ”Turn on your flashlight,” Emily called out, her voice echoing through the empty house. A second later she saw the faint orange glow of Rhiannon's flashlight flowing back to her as the children moved through the house.

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