LOT'S MOUNTAIN

CHAPTER FIVE: Old Friends and New Enemies

The power came back on this morning, and Tim left for work around a quarter to eight. So how do I spend the last day before school starts? Locked in my room memorizing that damn missing poster from last night.

John Kirby was in his thirties and disappeared two years ago. It doesn't mention him having a wife or kids, but he was a private investigator from New York. Okay, so how did he end up in the woods in Virginia trying to kill me? One thing's for sure, something wants me to know.

So, it's not just Glass, but there's a Glass Man, too. And he's looking for me. Well, if the Stone Men want magic and monsters gone, then what does the Glass Man want? Judging from my dream, it isn't good.

For a while, I stare out the window waiting to see those lights again, but there are only people and cars.

"How am I going to get to the woods tonight?" I pull the kitten onto my lap. "I'm guessing that Tim and Diane aren't exactly going to fling open the door and let me out."

The kitten purrs as my fingers glide over her back. She's not going to like this, but she needs a bath. As if she knows what I'm thinking, she snarls.

"You know, that monster from last night didn't give me an exact time. Do you think that thing is just going to be hanging around all night?" I pick up the kitten so that I'm looking into her dark round eyes.

She meows.

"Hey, if you're gonna be sticking around, I guess I should give you a name, right?"

She meows again.

I had a Great-aunt Gertrude. When I call the kitten Gertie, she looks like she's going to rip my arm off.

"Mim?"

No.

"Mittens?"

Um, no.

"Shrimp?"

She sighs and flexes her claws. I'm taking that as a no.

"Nameless?"

The kitten struts over and rubs her face against my hand. Nameless it is.

And then something weird happens, well, a normal kind of weird.

There's a knock at my door and when I answer it, there's Roger Dodds, my ex-best friend, looking like a deer in headlights. "Your mom ... well ..."

Bailing him out, I say, "Diane."

"Yeah, Diane called. I didn't even know she had my number."

Hell, I didn't even have his number. This must be Diane's latest on the Normal Dylan campaign.

With all of the strange stuff going on, it's easy to forget that there really is a normal world. But Roger's classic normal and is wearing this collared shirt with a college emblem embroidered on the front. I'm guessing it's a school he's hoping to go to. I haven't thought that far ahead yet. I'm still in the gee-what's-going-to-try-to-kill-me-today? phase.

Hey, who cares? Diane probably figured that we'd just hang out in my room, but I'm not wasting this chance to get out of here. No way.

Nameless'll be safe upstairs, and the Shermans don't try to stop Roger and me. That would look too weird. Before I leave I make sure I fold up the missing flyer and keep it in my back pocket. I doubt the Sherman's will be full of sunshine and smiles if they see it.

After we take off, Roger talks a lot and I say a few uh-huhs and yeahs.

I don't know what's waiting for me, but I'm on my way to find it.

******

"You're gonna get your license." Roger never asks questions. He just says the answer that he thinks he's going to get.

"Maybe," I say. I'm full of maybes. Maybe I'll get a license (especially since I'm probably the only senior without one). Maybe I'll stick around. Maybe something won't eat me.

After Roger gets onto the main highway, we can see over the ridge, into forever. The trees are still mostly green, but a few of them are starting to turn even though it's only the beginning of September. I catch a hint of yellows and reds as the sky gets darker and darker. In a little over a month it'll be October, and the whole ridge'll look like it's on fire.

I suggest that we go into town, near Carver Street. Well, I actually say Randolph Street, which'll take us close to Carver Street and near the woods where the cemetery dogs killed that guy last night. Roger doesn't care where we're headed. He nods and keeps on talking.

"I know a guy that goes to your new school. It's not bad."

With Roger, nothing's ever good. It's just not bad.

There are about a thousand different conversations we could have. I could say, "How's basketball?" or he could start with, "The new foster place seems okay." I imagine he'll stay away from the obvious red flag no-no of "So [insert long, awkward silence here] your brother's dead."

He doesn't say any of the things he's really thinking. Instead he starts with, "My sister starts at the high school. That's going to suck. Be glad —" And he stops. He was going to say, Be glad you're an only child.

Some conversations are like cliffs. You open your mouth, and then you're left hanging and nothing can save you. Real quick, Roger switches to talking about school and girls and stuff. He doesn't mention anything about me almost dying the other night. I'm guessing no one knows about that, that the Stone Men made the sheriff and the deputies cover it up.

I tell Roger to pull over when we get near the woods.

"Sit here for a few minutes and I'll be right back," I say as I get out of the car.

"And if you take longer, I drive off and leave your ass," he says with a smirk.

If I take longer, then I'm either running like hell in the other direction from something or I'm getting eaten.

"You got a flashlight?"

"Yeah." He digs through the glove compartment and hands me a small blue one. Taking it, I slip out of the front seat and leave Roger behind me.

Deeper in the woods, most of the trees are still laying flat from the storm. I step over one that's bigger around than me and keep going. That night keeps playing in my head.

The look on the guy's face and the ripping noises ... No, I don't have time to get all freaked out right now.

Turning to see if I missed something, I shine the flashlight around in a wide arc and nearly jump out of my skin. A huge white horse paws at the ground right in front of me. At first I think it's some weird lawn ornament, you know, like a huge-ass lawn gnome or something. Its mane looks like smoke drifting around it as its tail snaps back and forth. Puffs of breath roll out of its nostrils, and it shakes its head. Then its eyelids open to reveal empty sockets.

A sound, like a woman screaming, tears out of its throat as its silver hooves lash out at my head.