Chain Letter (42 page)

Alison dropped the shovel and leapt across the grave. She took off for the car. The
jagged tumbleweed tore at her legs, but she didn’t let them slow her down. She ran
as if she had the devil on her heels, and maybe she did. She had parked with the driver’s
side facing the gravesite. She was running so fast she
did the majority of her braking by slamming into the car. Frantic, she threw the door
open and jumped inside. But she didn’t have her keys. Where were her keys? She couldn’t
remember. They were in her pocket. Yes! She stuck her hand in the pocket and pulled
them out. But then she made the horrible mistake of sticking the wrong key in the
ignition. She yanked it out and dropped the whole key chain to the floor.

Alison had just leaned over to find the keys when a fist came through the passenger
window above her.

Shattered glass spewed over her. A hand like a claw grabbed her by the hair.

“Ouch!” Alison cried as she was yanked upright.

“Going somewhere?” the girl asked, standing just outside the window. Her grip on Alison’s
hair was enough to make Alison feel as if she were about to have the top of her skull
ripped off. But the girl was not in the best of situations, either. She did, after
all, have her arm stuck through a mean broken window. In fact her arm was already
lacerated in a half dozen places.

But she wasn’t bleeding. Instead, the cuts dripped a foul-smelling fluid. Alison had
smelled the odor earlier in the day when Tony had spit on her. Then she had just caught
a whiff of it. Now the stink of it flooded her nostrils.

Embalming fluid.

Jane Clemens had been embalmed before the Caretaker had taken possession of her body.

“Go to hell,” Alison said. She jammed the right key in the
ignition and turned it over. The girl tried tightening her hold on Alison’s hair,
but Alison was already slamming the car into gear. It jerked forward, and Alison felt
a thousand hair roots yanked out of the top of her head. But flooring the accelerator
had worked. The girl let go.

Oh, but the pain of losing so much hair at once. It sent such shock waves into Alison’s
central nervous system that she simply couldn’t drive straight. The car raced straight
forward but then immediately veered back off the road and got stuck. She had plowed
into a mess of tumbleweed—sort of like Tony had done when he had gone off the road
the summer before. Her head struck the steering wheel, and a black wave crossed her
vision. But she didn’t let herself faint. She threw the car in reverse and backed
out of the wall of weeds. But as she flew backward she hit something hard—maybe a
body. For a moment she had the horrible thought that she had run over Tony. She fretted
between racing off and checking. The indecision cost her precious seconds. Finally
she turned and glanced over her shoulder.

It was at that instant that the car door was ripped off its hinges.

The girl stood in the moonlight three feet to Alison’s left, dripping embalming fluid
from her crushed guts and grinning from ear to ear. There was a tire mark across her
tattered black blouse. Alison saw how the girl could have survived the wreck with
Fran. She must have been in the car with Fran, after all.

“You’re a feisty devil,” the girl said. “I like that.”

She reached inside the car and grabbed Alison by the throat.

“Please,” Alison croaked, but she was asking the wrong monster for mercy. The girl
yanked her out of the car as if she were made of paper. She threw Alison in front
of her, in the direction of the grave.

“Don’t make me carry you,” the girl warned.

Eric and Tony were waiting for them at the grave. Eric had recovered his wits, and
Tony had found his gun. At the moment he had it pointed at Eric’s head. The girl suddenly
shoved Alison from behind, and Alison fell at Tony’s feet. Dirt pushed into her mouth.
Blood seeped over the side of her head from her clump of missing hair. She spit and
looked up. Tony had the barrel of the gun pointed at her head.

“All right,” she whispered. “I give up.”

“Good,” the girl cackled. “We are about to start carving you up anyway. It’s a good
time to give up.”

Alison got up slowly. She didn’t know how to reach Tony. She stared deep into his
eyes and saw another person at work. She had felt this way once before, when talking
to Neil in the throes of his madness. How had they gotten to Neil? With Fran. With
the one girl in the whole world who loved him.

“How can we break it?”

“With love?”

“I don’t understand.”

Now she understood. Now she knew what to do.

She remembered her nightmares.

Tony could not be put in the box.

She loved Tony. She really did. It would be all right.

“Can I ask something before I die?” Alison asked.

“Of course,” the girl said. “You can ask things
while
you’re dying, if you can stop screaming. The night’s young. We’ll play a while before
you go in the ground.”

“You’ve got serious psychological problems,” Eric told her.

“Yeah,” the girl said. She poked Eric in the gut, and he doubled up in pain. “We’ll
play with you as well.”

“Stop that!” Alison cried.

“I don’t think so,” the girl said.

“All this, from the very beginning, was to prepare us?” Alison asked.

“Yes,” the girl said. “But I had to step in. I had to get you to Column Three. Neil
couldn’t take you that far.”

“Because Neil wouldn’t,” Alison said. “He had a good heart. He got away from you in
the end.”

The girl stared down into the grave. She spat out a mouthful of embalming fluid. “It
doesn’t look to me like he got very far.”

“Tony,” Alison said, turning to her boyfriend, and now she was crying. It was hard,
what she had to do—so hard. She needed him to help her. “I can help you. Let me help
you.”

Tony blinked and a tremor went through the length of his body. “You lied to me,” he
said, but it was without force.

“But beyond this you must trust what’s in your heart.”

“This thing here lied to you,” Alison wept. “It lies to you
in your own mind. You have to listen to me with your heart. You know me in your heart,
Tony. You put me in there and kept me safe and warm. You told me that once when we
were alone together.”

Tony fidgeted. He looked at the girl, then back at Alison. “You came here to get the
body to bring to the police,” he mumbled. “You turned against me.”

“Yes,” the girl said.

“No,” Alison said. “I was always on your side. I’m on your side now.” She took a step
closer to him. The tip of the black barrel was practically touching her, pointed directly
at her heart. “I love you. I’ll always love you.”

But even as she spoke the words, she knew it was no use. The girl stood at Tony’s
right, smirking. She was confident. No doubt she had fought similar battles over the
course of centuries and always won. The stranger had said the chain was very ancient.

“Alison,” Tony said, and there was pain in his voice but no strength. Alison knew
it would take strength to break the chain. The strength that love gave.

Alison whipped her hand up and folded her fingers around Tony’s right hand. His index
finger was pressed to the trigger. She pressed it tight. Yes, it was
she
who pulled the trigger. Not her boyfriend.

Alison heard a loud roar. She felt a painful slap.

Then she was lying flat on her back, staring up at the sky.

Tony and Eric and the girl were peering down at her.

The girl looked more shocked than the guys.

“What did you do?” she asked in disgust.

Tony’s face crumpled. “Alison?” he cried.

Alison smiled through her pain. “Tony.”

“You witch!” Tony swore, turning on the girl. Before the girl could react he pressed
the gun to the side of her head and pulled the trigger. There was a flash of orange
light. The girl toppled out of sight. Tony dropped the gun and knelt beside Alison.
He reached out for her.

“What have I done?” Tony moaned.

“Don’t move her,” Eric cautioned Tony, trying to stop him.

“Let him take me,” Alison whispered, and now the pain was coming in red tidal waves.
She felt as if her chest had exploded, which it had. She could feel a mess of blood
under her blouse, dripping down her belly. “I want to die in his arms.”

Tony began to weep. “You’re not going to die.” He bit his lip and hugged her face
to his shoulder. “Oh, God, what have I done?”

Alison was having trouble breathing. But she managed to smile. It felt good to be
held by him again. “You didn’t do anything. I did it. No one can put you in the box.
You’re free. You’re—” It was difficult to get out the words. “You’re mine.”

Tony continued to hold her, but he shook them both as sobs racked him. He implored
Eric, “Can’t you do anything for her?”

Eric was sad. “There’s nothing we can do.”

Alison felt herself growing faint. The pain was receding into the distance. She closed
her eyes, and Tony eased her back onto the ground. It was good to lie down and be
still. It had been a long time since she had had a chance to rest. Now she could.
She was at peace. She had done what had to be done. That was the best that anybody
could do.

Far away, a million miles perhaps, she heard footsteps. Someone was approaching. But
she couldn’t get her eyes to open to see who it was. Yet she knew it was someone good,
and she felt happy.

T
ony and Eric watched the stranger walk out of the dark with a mixture of awe and fear.
He was nothing to look at—a slightly built guy with sandy brown hair and an innocent
expression. Yet he walked with power. The white light of the moon shimmered around
him. They rose as he stepped into their small circle.

“Who are you?” Tony asked.

The stranger didn’t say anything for a minute. He just stared down at Alison as she
lay dying on the ground. But his eyes—they were warm and green, somehow familiar to
Tony—were not unhappy. Finally he looked at them.

“I am a friend,” the stranger said.

“Can you help my girlfriend?” Tony asked. A stupid question. Nothing could help Alison
now. Any fool could see she was dying.

“Your madness has passed,” the stranger said. “You’re all right now.”

Tony nodded. His heart was broken, his girl was dying, but suddenly he felt lighter.
The stranger spoke the truth—a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He
looked down at the girl in disgust, a bundle of stinking fluid and blood lying beside
the grave. He couldn’t imagine how he had ever gone to her.

“I’m all right,” Tony agreed. He gestured helplessly to Alison on the ground and began
to cry miserably. “But Ali isn’t.”

The stranger seemed unconcerned. He stepped over to the fallen girl with the bloody
head. Incredibly her ruined body had begun to stir. This didn’t disturb the stranger,
either. He stood over the grotesque heap until something began to worm its way out
of the dead girl’s mouth. It was black and slimy. It looked like a slug, but it was
as big as a snake. The thing stuck its head into the nighttime air, then focused on
Alison’s dying figure. Suddenly it darted out of the girl’s mouth, and its full length
was revealed, more than five feet long. It dashed straight for Alison. But the stranger
was too quick for it. He slammed his heel down on the head of the snake, crushing
it. The thing rolled over in the mud and fell into the hole and was gone.

“Did you see that?” Tony gasped to Eric.

“No,” Eric said.

“That thing that just came out of the witch’s mouth,” Tony said.

“I didn’t see anything,” Eric said, confused.

The stranger regarded both of them with calm. “This Caretaker is gone. It will not
return. And Alison has passed a great test. She is ready for great things. There’s
no need to grieve over her. She’ll be in good company soon.” The stranger turned to
walk back into the desert. “Goodbye, Eric. Goodbye, Tony.”

Something in the way the stranger said his name touched Tony in a deep way. He
knew
that voice. It was the voice of a friend, the voice of
his
friend. But that was impossible, Tony told himself. They were standing beside the
grave of that friend. He had buried the guy.

The stranger sounded like Neil.

Tony jumped at him, catching the guy by the hand just before he was out of their circle.
“Neil!” Tony cried and threw himself to the ground at his feet. “Don’t leave me. Don’t
let her leave me.”

The stranger slowly turned and lay his hand on Tony’s head. His touch was soothing
beyond belief. Tony felt his sorrows melt beneath those magical fingers. But there
were so many sorrows—and the stranger was in a hurry.

“Your friend has to go,” the stranger said. “He only came back to offer what help
was allowed. But it was enough. The chain is broken. Life will go on. Your life will
continue.” He patted Tony’s head. “Be strong.”

Tony could not be strong. He couldn’t bear a future without Alison. “No. I want to
go with you. I want to be with Alison, wherever she is. There’s nothing for me here
without you two.” Tony kissed the stranger’s hand. “Please? Let me go?”

The stranger slowly shook his head. “You’re alive. You have to live. It is the way
of things.”

Tony stared into the stranger’s face, and he could not remember when he had ever seen
such love.

Alison had told him to listen to his heart, not his head. Well, deep inside he felt
there was nothing that the stranger’s love could not do.

“Heal her,” Tony said. “Before she dies.”

The stranger was silent for a moment. Then he raised his head to the stars. For a
long time he stood like that and if he breathed, he didn’t show it. Finally he patted
Tony on the head again. He smiled a playful smile.

“You want a miracle?” he asked.

“Yes!” Eric cried, coming over and joining them. “I would love a miracle. I’ve never
seen one before.”