Grampa Flick once more began to cycle. It was hard to watch, but Rose made herself to do it. When she could no longer see the old fellow’s organs through his fragile skin, she looked at Crow and held up her bruised and scraped hand.
“Also . . . she needs to be taught a lesson.”
2
When Dan woke up in his turret room on Monday, the schedule had once more been wiped from his blackboard and replaced with a message from Abra. At the top was a smiley-face. All the teeth were showing, which gave it a gleeful look.
She came! I was ready and I hurt her!
I REALLY DID!!
She deserves it, so HOORAY!!!
I need to talk to you, not this way or ’Net.
Same place as before 3PM
Dan lay back on his bed, covered his eyes, and went looking for her. He found her walking to school with three of her friends, which struck him as dangerous in itself. For the friends as well as for Abra. He hoped Billy was there and on the job. He also hoped Billy would be discreet and not get tagged by some zealous Neighborhood Watch type as a suspicious character.
(I can come John and I don’t leave until tomorrow but it has to be fast and we have to be careful )
(yes okay good )
3
Dan was once more seated on a bench outside the ivy-covered Anniston Library when Abra emerged, dressed for school in a red jumper and snazzy red sneakers. She held a knapsack by one strap. To Dan she looked as if she’d grown an inch since the last time he’d seen her.
She waved. “Hi, Uncle Dan!”
“Hello, Abra. How was school?”
“Great! I got an A on my biology report!”
“Sit down a minute and tell me about it.”
She crossed to the bench, so filled with grace and energy she almost seemed to dance. Eyes bright, color high: a healthy after-school teenager with all systems showing green. Everything about her said ready-steady-go. There was no reason for this to make Dan feel uneasy, but it did. One very good thing: a nondescript Ford pickup was parked half a block down, the old guy behind the wheel sipping a take-out coffee and reading a magazine. Appearing to read a magazine, at least.
(Billy?)
No answer, but he looked up from his magazine for a moment, and that was enough.
“Okay,” Dan said in a lower voice. “I want to hear exactly what happened.”
She told him about the trap she had set, and how well it had worked. Dan listened with amazement, admiration . . . and that growing sense of unease. Her confidence in her abilities worried him. It was a kid’s confidence, and the people they were dealing with weren’t kids.
“I just told you to set an alarm,” he said when she had finished.
“This was better. I don’t know if I could have gone at her that way if I wasn’t pretending to be Daenerys in the Game of Thrones books, but I think so. Because she killed the baseball boy and lots of others. Also because . . .” For the first time her smile faltered a little. As she was telling her story, Dan had seen what she would look like at eighteen. Now he saw what she had looked like at nine.
“Because what?”
“She’s not human. None of them are. Maybe they were once, but not anymore.” She straightened her shoulders and tossed her hair back. “But I’m stronger. She knew it, too.”
(I thought she pushed you away)
She frowned at him, annoyed, wiped at her mouth, then caught her hand doing it and returned it to her lap. Once it was there, the other one clasped it to keep it still. There was something familiar about this gesture, but why wouldn’t there be? He’d seen her do it before. Right now he had bigger things to worry about.
(next time I’ll be ready if there is a next time)
That might be true. But if there was a next time, the woman in the hat would be ready, too.
(I only want you to be careful )
“I will. For sure.” This, of course, was what all kids said in order to placate the adults in their lives, but it still made Dan feel better. A little, anyway. Besides, there was Billy in his F-150 with the faded red paint.
Her eyes were dancing again. “I found lots of stuff out. That’s why I needed to see you.”
“What stuff?”
“Not where she is, I didn’t get that far, but I did find . . . see, when she was in my head, I was in hers. Like swapsies, you know? It was full of drawers, like being in the world’s biggest library reference room, although maybe I only saw it that way because she did. If she had been looking at computer screens in my head, I might have seen computer screens.”
“How many of her drawers did you get into?”
“Three. Maybe four. They call themselves the True Knot. Most of them are old, and they really are like vampires. They look for kids like me. And like you were, I guess. Only they don’t drink blood, they breathe in the stuff that comes out when the special kids die.” She winced in disgust. “The more they hurt them before, the stronger that stuff is. They call it steam.”