Someone entered the bathroom, startling him. He glanced in the man’s direction—a guy in his late twenties in a white hoodie and oversized jeans hanging halfway down his ass. The guy froze in the doorway when he saw David. Without uttering a word, the guy turned and left.
Shit shit shit shit shit— The reflection in the mirror was now that of a vampire, a pale-faced night creature who subsisted on blood and would crumble to ash in the sunlight. The bloodied nose, he convinced himself, was from his collision with Cooper back in Goodwin, which had been the thing that had set it bleeding initially. He must have done something to rupture it all over again and— His cell phone trilled.
He fumbled it out of his pocket and examined the screen before answering. The caller ID was blocked, which gave David pause, but in the end he decided to answer it in hopes that it might be Tim. “Hello? Hello?” His voice was panicked and throaty, and his mouth tasted like blood.
“David? You okay?” It was Tim.
“Jesus Christ,” he uttered into the phone. Relief coursed through him like a narcotic. “Oh, Jesus Christ, Tim. I was starting to worry that you were . . .” He trailed off.
“I’m here. I’m here. What’s wrong? Your e-mail scared me.”
There was no getting around it, so he cut right to it. “Tim, Kathy’s dead.” And just saying the words aloud caused a sob to lurch up from his throat. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and his vision began throbbing in sync with his pulse.
“Fuck,” Tim said. “No. No, David. Ah, Jesus. How? When? What . . . what happened?”
“It was a few days ago. Tim, it’s a long goddamn story and it’s gonna sound crazy. I’m terrified to go into it over the phone. I’m worried someone might be tracking my cell phone.”
“What the hell is going on, man?”
“Some people are after Ellie and me. Government people.”
“Because of Kathy?”
“Not exactly,” he said. “Kathy was in the hospital. She volunteered. Doctors, they were studying her. They thought she might be immune to what’s been going on, this fucking Wanderer’s Folly, but they pushed her too hard. They killed her. Now they want to take Ellie away from me and do the same thing to her.”
“Where’s Eleanor now?”
“She’s okay. She’s with me.” He closed his eyes, forced himself under control. “Tim, I need your help.”
“Where are you?”
For a moment, he had no clue—his brain was fuzzy, his thoughts jumbled and nonsensical. But then the confusion dissipated, revealing a sharp gleam of clarity, and he said, “I’m about an hour or so from Kansas City. I came all this way hoping I could see you, that we could talk in person—”
“Shit, David, I split KC over a year ago. I’m off the grid now. I’m in Wyoming.”
David felt the floor drop out from under his feet.
“Oh,” he said into the phone, but it was someone else’s voice now. The ceramic tiles that formed the backsplash behind the restroom sink appeared to rearrange themselves. David squeezed his eyes shut. He braced himself against the wall with one hand so that he wouldn’t topple over. “Okay. Shit. Well, how far is that?”
“From KC? Maybe ten hours. Twelve, if you’re cautious about speeding and cops.”
Twelve hours, David thought. A whole day. Jesus Christ. Can we make it that far?
“Listen,” David said. “I’m going to try to get there.”
“Sure, sure,” Tim said, “but just hold on a sec, okay? Let me think.”
David leaned against the restroom door and glanced out into the theater lobby. Two teenagers chatted behind a glass counter, a guy and a girl. They had plastic Halloween masks perched on their heads, but they didn’t seem too concerned about germs, judging by the proximity of their faces. It made David think of the guy in the paper plate mask back in the library, and how he’d been staring at him from between two bookshelves.
“Okay,” Tim said. “I think I’ve got an idea that will help you out, but I need to make a phone call first. I’m not sure how long it will take. Are you able to stay there in the city overnight? Do you have money?”
“I’ve got enough for a motel.”
“If not, I can maybe wire you some—”
“No, I don’t want to get into all that. I’m trying to lay low. I can find a motel off the highway, but I don’t want to go traipsing around the city looking for a Western fucking Union or whatever. I’ve got enough cash on me.”
“Okay, good. Meantime, I’ll get things rolling on my end. You’ll hear back from me as soon as possible. Just sit tight.”
“Okay. And thank you.”
“Stay safe.”
Tim hung up.
David washed his face and hands again before hustling back out into the lobby. The place was dead, but he noticed a white van parked in a loading zone outside the theater, and the sight of it caused his bowels to clench.
No, please . . .
He hurried back inside the theater, staggering blindly down the aisle looking for the silhouette of Ellie’s small head above the seats. When he found her, he leaned over and told her they had to leave.
“The movie’s not over yet,” she protested.