“You shouldn’t touch that,” a man said behind her. “He wouldn’t like it.”
She whirled to find Parker silhouetted in the glow from the open bathroom. He’d been a docile patient the last two years, but there was something different about him tonight. A focused intensity that turned his gaze to steel.
“Who wouldn’t like it?” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.
Parker pointed to the opposite wall.
Drawings. All of Parker’s drawings were tacked to the stark white surface.
Blinding light burst from the paper squares, splintering outward like shockwaves from an earthquake. A dark crevice opened and swelled in the center until all that remained was sun-white nova and shadow. With a cry, Nurse Brenner flung up an arm to shield her eyes. Something moved in the heart of that fissure, an unnatural presence tainted by ice.
Nurse Brenner’s breath plumed in the air.
“I’m sorry. I have to leave now.” Parker stepped around her.
“No.” She gripped his arm, trying to restrain him.
The darkness rushed forward, engulfing her in a frigid black cloud. Somewhere in the back of her mind, an unfamiliar voice warned her not to interfere. Still she clung to Parker, a rush of vertigo crashing over her in a chokehold. Her eyes rolled backward as the light-headedness became too much to bear. Her last conscious thought as she crumpled to the floor was that something not altogether human had entered the room.
Katie breathed in the peaceful silence of her house. Sam was asleep in bed and darkness had fallen outside. The living room was quiet, the TV off. There was nothing to disturb her as she paged through the paperback Ryan had left. It wasn’t simply her desire to help Jerome that kept her riveted to his copy of UFO Sightings and Stories, but her own curiosity.
As an eyewitness, it was easy to get caught up in the mythology of unidentified flying objects. Already she’d learned people who’d had encounters sometimes experienced behavioral changes, including fervent bursts of creativity. Some took to drawing, as if their mind worked on overload, unable to contain the input. One contactee compared it to being the recipient of a memory dump in another language.
Noise.
For Katie and Sam, that funnel of information had been expelled in a series of drawings filled with geometrical shapes. The language meant nothing to them, but others believed such outpourings could hold significance for an alien culture. She was certain the cloud Sam had seen was a UFO, but unless he brought it up, she wouldn’t prod for information. According to the book, some eyewitnesses preferred to forget. From personal experience, she knew the need to draw would fade, and the memory of that obsession would vanish with the desire.
It isn’t uncommon for people who have seen a UFO to experience conjunctivitis afterward, she read in the book. The reddening and inflammation of the eyes can last anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. This phenomenon has been documented in over seventy percent of the cases of those claiming to have seen a UFO.
Yet another indication Sam had seen something. And all those people at the hospital. Sam’s doctor had told her there had been a rash of outbreaks. Small wonder given the recent wave of UFO sightings.
Katie couldn’t recall anything bad happening to her after the drive home from Ravenswood, but her mom said she’d had pinkeye in the past. And her mom had acted odd when she’d mentioned it in the ER. Almost as if she’d expected Katie to remember it as something out of the ordinary.
The low rumble of a car engine intruded on her thoughts.
Probably nothing, only a vehicle passing outside. But after everything that had happened, she couldn’t help worrying Lyle might return to snoop around. Snapping the book shut, she stood and switched off the lights. She’d feel better if she took a look. If it really was Lyle, she’d confront him and set him straight.
Grabbing a jacket from the closet, she tossed a glance over her shoulder. No sign that Sam had heard anything. Hopefully, he’d sleep through the night. Palming a heavy-duty flashlight, she stepped onto the front porch. A short distance down the street, the headlights of an unmarked van flashed to life.
Katie muttered a curse.
The creep was back. Well, he wasn’t going to toy with her.
“Hey, you.” She sprinted across the yard. “You’re not frightening me so you might as well cut it out.” Before she could get close enough to glimpse the driver, the van sped down the road with a squeal of tires. This time, she managed to catch the license plate.
West Virginia tags, 4ZX87Q.
“Got you now.” Repeating the numbers, she thrust her hands into her pockets, hoping to find something to jot them down.
A scrap of paper.
She hurried back into the house, careful not to be too noisy as she rustled through the kitchen drawer for a pen. Sam’s bedroom was just down the hall. Two nights in a row the mystery van had staked out her house. It was time to do something about the repeated lurking before something happened to involve Sam. She jotted the number down, then sank into a chair and dropped her head into her hands.
Why couldn’t Lyle leave her alone? Maybe she should have Sam stay with her mom temporarily. Her mother would love the company. She might have made mistakes in the past raising her own girls, but she was a doting and wonderful grandmamma to Sam. The more Katie thought about it, the more it made sense. Even better, if she tracked down Darrell Mason, she’d probably trip over Lyle in the process. Rather than run, she’d confront him and put an end to his silly games. In the meantime, she’d call Ryan and have him trace the van number as proof Lyle or one of his cronies was trying to scare her.
As she picked up the paper and headed for the phone, Katie spied unfamiliar handwriting on the back. Halting abruptly, she sucked down a breath.
The last time she’d worn the jacket was when she’d given it to Jerome to block the cold.