Better run faster.
“SHUT UP! JUST SHHHH . . . SHHHH.” I try to complete my sentence, but it’s fighting me. A sound I’ve never before heard bursts from my lips—a high-pitched, pulsating squeal, followed by a deep, throaty laugh that barely sounds human.
“WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME?”
I know what’s happening—my mind is breaking, that’s what. I’m losing it. I’m one step from the edge, but I’ve got to stop Donny Ray first.
You can’t stop him.
“I have to!”
But you can do something else.
I punch the gas pedal. My tires squeal with fury as my car peels out of the parking lot. Donny Ray and his underground army may have their Big Plan in place, but I’m about to sling my own scheme right back at them.
I’m drastically outnumbered, ridiculously handicapped, but there can be no underestimating the fierce determination of a father set on keeping his son out of harm’s way. I may not be able to stop Donny Ray from leaving Loveland, but I can make damned sure he never gets anywhere near Devon. I know my work is cut out for me, that my plan will require monumental skill, rigorous planning, and extensive calculation. It may take most of the evening to get this job done, maybe all night, but sleep deprivation offers no challenge. I’m driven by fear and doggedness, my determination not only fierce but unbreakable.
So, we have our plan. How are we going to work this?
“First, I have to secure our home, then make sure that Devon is watched around the clock. I’ll need to gather plenty of information in advance so I can predict Donny Ray’s movements before he makes them.”
“You mean like this one?”
My lungs go airless. My world tilts sideways, everything in it swimming rapidly around me. I look into the rearview mirror, and Donny Ray sneers at me from the backseat. I split my nervous attention between him and the road, gradually easing onto the brakes.
“It’s okay,” he says, motioning forward with a hand. “No need to stop now. I’ll talk. You listen.”
Oh, God. He’s with me.
“I’ve always been with you, Christopher. You just couldn’t see it. But I’m glad. You needed to take me out of Loveland.”
You have to take me out of here!
The exact demand he made the day we met, now with horrifying significance, because I’ve just done the one thing I was trying to prevent. I’ve indeed taken Donny Ray out of Loveland. I’ve aided in his escape.
But is this real?
“Reality can be a strange thing,” he says, “you know? Daddy taught me that. He used to say it’s not about what you see, but what you choose not to. Of course, that didn’t work out so well for Miranda. Never could stand the little whore, so I chose not to see her, and poof! She was gone!”
No, I refuse to believe this is real. He’s not here. Now I’m having paranoid delusions that Donny Ray is following me. He’s finally infiltrated my mind.
“The reflections in your mind have been blinding you, Christopher. They’ve been pushing you closer to the edge.” He looks out at the road ahead and nods as if agreeing with his own thought. “But that’s the plan. We’re moving in the right direction now. We’re getting close.”
Bit by bit, Donny Ray has been dismantling Loveland. Now he’s moved into my mind, so he can tear that down as well.
“I’m tearing down the walls, Christopher. I’m rocking your world.” His grin is glib; so, too, is the small laugh he exhales. “And my work is nearly complete.”
“I won’t let you have my son!” I shout. “You’re not taking Devon away from me!”
“Really? Because it looks like you’re driving me right to him.”
I slam on the brakes, veer off the road, then pull to a screeching stop along the shoulder. “Why? Why are you causing me all this agony?”
“Your agony started a long time ago.” Donny Ray’s expression shifts into what looks like pity, or compassion, or whatever warped and phony mask his mind is wearing at the moment. “That’s why you called me here, to rid you of it.”
“I don’t want your help! Get out of my car . . . or my head . . . or—”
“And now that you’ve let me in, I’ll never leave you.”
“You’re evil!”
“I am truth.”
“You’re a lie!”
“That’s how I am—The Truth. Once I’m exposed, you can never bury me.” He nods toward the road ahead.
I aim my vision through the windshield, but before it can find focus, the glass shatters, and the white light explodes.
72
I jerk my head up and gasp.
What in God’s—?
I’m still in my car. I check the clock and realize that time has again escaped me, to the tune of about . . .
An hour?
More minutes stealing away when every second is golden.
My mind untangles, vision settles, and up ahead, I see . . .
Oh, hell no.
I’m parked directly in front of the Evil Tree, its gnarled branches woven together and looming overhead like a giant black web, trapping me.
A strong wind blows, and as if awakened from restless sleep, the Evil Tree comes to life. Leaves hiss venomously. Swaying branches throw shadows across my car like toxic vapors. And from the most cellular level of my being comes the purest of truths. That I’ve unwittingly landed at the hub where every evil in this world intersects.
I’ve got to get out of here.
I crank the ignition key, but abrupt and rapid movement outside the windshield distracts me. I turn my head just in time to see an object catch light, then disappear into darkness—darkness that still holds my attention as I question whether what I just saw was more than a reflection on the glass.
Another movement, this time to the right. I swing in that direction and find my answer waiting there.
Holy—
At about ten feet, the rubber ball wobbles to a stop, then a brilliant streak of crimson blazes into view.
No freakin’ way.
Standing before my car, bathed in the glow of headlights, is the teenager in the red hoodie.