“They’ll be spreading their picnic in no time. That’s when you should take them, while they’re sat down and eating.”
“We’ll get it done,” Jimmy promised. “And in time to twist enough steam out of her to help you. Rose can’t object to that.”
“She never would,” Barry agreed, “but it’s too late for me. Maybe not for you, though.”
“Huh?”
“Look at your arms.”
Jimmy did, and saw the first spots blooming on the soft white skin below his elbows. Red death. His mouth went dry at the sight of them.
“Oh Christ, here I go,” Barry moaned, and suddenly his clothes were collapsing in on a body that was no longer there. Jimmy saw him swallow . . . and then his throat was gone.
“Move,” Nut said. “Let me at him.”
“Yeah? What are you going to do? He’s cooked.”
Jimmy went up front and dropped into the passenger seat, which Crow had vacated. “Take Route 14-A around Frazier,” he said. “That’s quicker than going through the downtown. You’ll connect with the Saco River Road—”
Snake tapped the GPS. “I got all that programmed. You think I’m blind or just stupid?”
Jimmy barely heard her. All he knew was that he could not die. He was too young to die, especially with all the incredible computer developments just over the horizon. And the thought of cycling, the crushing pain every time he came back . . .
No. No. Absolutely not. Impossible.
Late-afternoon light slanted in through the ’Bago’s big front windows. Beautiful autumn sunlight. Fall was Jimmy’s favorite season, and he intended to still be alive and traveling with the True Knot when it came around again. And again. And again. Luckily, he was with the right bunch to get this done. Crow Daddy was brave, resourceful, and cunning. The True had been in tough spots before. He would bring them through this one.
“Watch for the sign pointing to the Cloud Gap picnic area. Don’t miss it. Barry says they’re almost there.”
“Jimmy, you’re giving me a headache,” Snake said. “Go sit down. We’ll be there in an hour, maybe less.”
“Goose it,” Jimmy Numbers said.
Snakebite Andi grinned and did so.
They were just turning onto the Saco River Road when Barry the Chink cycled out, leaving only his clothes. They were still warm from the fever that had baked him.
8
(Barry’s dead)
There was no horror in this thought when it reached Dan. Nor even an ounce of compassion. Only satisfaction. Abra Stone might look like an ordinary American girl, prettier than some and brighter than most, but when you got below the surface—and not that far below, either—there was a young Viking woman with a fierce and bloodthirsty soul. Dan thought it was a shame that she’d never had brothers and sisters. She would have protected them with her life.
Dan dropped the Riv into its lowest gear as the train came out of the deep woods and ran along a fenced drop. Below them, the Saco shone bright gold in the declining sun. The woods, sloping steeply down to the water on both sides, were a bonfire of orange, red, yellow, and purple. Above them, the puffy clouds drifting by seemed almost close enough to touch.
He pulled up to the sign reading CLOUD GAP STATION in a chuff of airbrakes, then turned the diesel off. For a moment he had no idea what to say, but Abra said it for him, using his mouth. “Thanks for letting me drive, Daddy. Now let’s have our plunder.” In the Deane rec room, Abra had just made this word. “Our picnic, I mean.”
“I can’t believe you’re hungry after all you ate on the train,” Dave teased.
“I am, though. Aren’t you glad I’m not anorexic?”
“Yes,” Dave said. “Actually, I am.”
Dan saw John Dalton from the corner of his eye, crossing the picnic area clearing, head down, feet noiseless on the thick pine duff. He was carrying a pistol in one hand and Billy Freeman’s rifle in the other. Trees bordered a parking lot for motor traffic; after a single look back, John disappeared into them. During summer, the little lot and all the picnic tables would have been full. On this weekday afternoon in late September, Cloud Gap was dead empty except for them.
Dave looked at Dan. Dan nodded. Abra’s father—an agnostic by inclination but a Catholic by association—made the sign of the cross in the air and then followed John into the woods.
“It’s so beautiful here, Daddy,” Dan said. His invisible passenger was now talking to Hoppy, because Hoppy was the only one left. Dan set the lumpy, balding, one-eyed rabbit on one of the picnic tables, then went back to the first passenger car for the wicker picnic basket. “That’s okay,” he said to the empty clearing, “I can get it, Dad.”
9
In the Deanes’ rec room, Abra pushed back her chair and stood up. “I have to go to the bathroom again. I feel sick to my stomach. And after that, I think I better go home.”
Emma rolled her eyes, but Mrs. Deane was all sympathy. “Oh, honey, is it your you-know?”
“Yes, and it’s pretty bad.”
“Do you have the things you need?”