Pretty Dark Nothing (28 page)

“Yeah, sure.” Jenna swirled her soda around with her straw. Lightning flashed, illuminating the parking lot, followed by a crack of thunder. “Wow, that’s some storm. Aren’t you glad I talked you into letting me drive?” Jenna grinned an I-told-you-so.

“What? The idea of riding on my bike in the rain doesn’t sound romantic?” Aaron took the last slice of pizza, savoring the taste of the warm, stringy mozzarella. “Why didn’t we take my bike again?”

“Hey, I’m always up for adventure, but cold and wet isn’t my idea of the perfect date.” Jenna scrunched her face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say the D word.”

Aaron tapped his foot on the bottom of the booth. “Well, I’m paying, so I guess that’s what it is. Even with the rain, it’s still better than my date with Quinn.”

Thunder crashed, and water poured from the roof like a waterfall, flooding the half-filled parking lot.

“Did you really walk in on her kissing her ex?” Jenna rubbed her forehead. “There I go again. Stupid Jenna, can’t you just learn to keep your mouth shut?”

“No, it’s okay.” Aaron stared at the red Formica tabletop. “It’s true. She bolted from church the other night. Teresa said she wasn’t feeling well, but I walked in on her kissing Jeff and, well, she looked all right to me. I even tried to call her, talk to her about it. Stupid, isn’t it?”

“No. Just human.”

The bells on the door jingled, and a cold wind whipped through the pizzeria. Aaron turned to see Teresa, hair plastered to her head, mascara running black down her left cheek. Her royal blue dress, muddied and torn, peeked from under Marcus’s black leather jacket.

Aaron and Jenna jumped up from their booth.

“What happened?” Aaron spurted “Where’s Marcus? Are you okay?”

Teresa shivered. Water dripped from every inch of her, pooling on the brick floor of the entryway and around her bare feet.

“I’ll get her some coffee.” Jenna banged on the counter to get the waitress’s attention.

“I didn’t come here for coffee. I came here for you.”

“Is Marcus okay?” Aaron couldn’t tell if she had been crying or if her cheeks were wet from the rain.

“He’s in the Jeep. It’s Quinn. Have you seen her?”

That name again. Aaron wanted to eat pizza, laugh, talk with Jenna, and forget that name.

He forced himself to ask, hating that part of him—the stupid part—that really wanted to know. “What happened?”

Jenna appeared beside him, coffee in a to-go cup. Teresa sipped at the steaming liquid, calming herself enough to continue.

“She ran out into the storm. Marcus and I tried to get to her, but the crowd blocked us. By the time we got outside, she’d disappeared.”

“Maybe Jeff took her home.”

“No, I mean, he started to run after her, but Kerstin was hysterical, blocking his way, screaming at him. He was way too busy trying to calm her down. He picked her up, carried her to his truck, and drove off. Marcus and I searched the campus for Quinn, but it’s dark, and the rain. We didn’t find her.”

“Did you check her house? Maybe someone else gave her a ride.”

“We went by there before we came here. No sign of her. Aaron, I’m worried. The dance is over, everyone’s gone home. We could find her faster with help. I know you still care about her. Please, Aaron, you have to help us look for her.”

Aaron looked at Jenna. She had every right not to want him chasing after Quinn in the rain. He was her date, after all.

“I can read it in your face, Aaron. You’ll never forgive yourself if something happens to her.” Jenna sighed. “You go with Marcus. Teresa and I can take my car. We’ll cover more ground that way.” Always the voice of reason, Jenna confirmed what Aaron wanted to do in his heart.

“Thanks, Jenna.” He kissed her cheek.

“Don’t just stand here wasting time. Let’s get going.” Teresa bolted out the door, covering her head with Marcus’s jacket.

Jenna and Aaron followed, dodging raindrops as they raced to the shelter of the cars.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Quinn sprinted from the shelter of the school, away from the mass of mutant fog that pursued her. A barrage of rain pounded her body, icy needles in her flesh. She took off her shoes and ran. Her bare feet splashed through dark puddles as she raced across the parking lot. The rain stung her face.

The faster she moved, the harder the thin drops hit. Past the tennis courts she ran, her feet abandoning the traction of the pavement for the slick mud of the practice fields. Down she went into the cold wet earth, the grimy mire coating her flesh like a second skin. Gritty clay pushed its way between her lips, tasting of metal and earth. A primal scream erupted from her gut, and she spit and sputtered, working the saliva in her mouth to expel the mud. Her fists came down, two hammers of fury and frustration as she pounded the slick turf, spots of dirt splattering her face and hair.

Lightening burst from the sky. Its erratic pattern lighted the flooded field’s grassy surface, now alive with writhing vapors, taking shape, moving closer.

Darkness again. A low rumble of thunder. Quinn squirmed backward as the storm of demons advanced onto the inky field. Trembling, she wiped at her face to clear her vision and stumbled to her feet, running and slipping through the mud until she reached sounder ground. From grass to blacktop, she ran, across the lighted jogging track, down the back alley, following the lights that lined the asphalt drive.

Lightning crackled down. One bright streak struck the power line in front of her, separating the wire from the wooden pole. Sparks flew from the downed wire. Quinn jumped back, yelping as the line twisted in the wind like a snake, blocking her escape down the alley.

Quinn glanced back to see the throng watching her, glowing eyes closing in, twisting, changing, and materializing from the never-ending mists. Hundreds of bat-like wings added to the roar of the wind as they glided forward, a giant, moving ink stain on the landscape. Lacing her fingers through the loops in the eight-foot chain-link fence, she shook it, screaming, tears mixing with the rain pouring down her face. Razor wire glistened from the top, metal teeth set to shred any flesh that dared try to scale the wall, dashing any hope of climbing her way to freedom. The demons were closing in, and she was trapped.

Quick breaths rasped from her mud-caked lips, and her whole body trembled as she eased forward. If she could time it right, she might be able to jump over the downed cord. The silver whip hissed and jumped at her approach, and Quinn’s heart jumped in response. The demons’ shrieks spurred her on, and she pulled back for a running start. Judging the best course, she hurtled over the midsection of cable, barely avoiding its deadly strike as her feet thudded to the ground, aching with the impact. No time for pain, she dashed in the direction of the road.

She stumbled forward through the deluge of water, staying just ahead of the scraping claws and flapping wings of the hunters. She cried for the lightning to show her the way, its luminescence a double-edged sword, revealing both her deliverance and her doom. But the ribbons of light, once abundant, now abandoned her to shadows.

An explosion of wind drove her to her knees. Her dress ripped in sync with a rumble of thunder as she went down. Her hands scraped against the concrete, ripping both palms open as she slid forward and onto her stomach. Asphalt and gravel ground their way into her soft flesh. Shoulders hunched, she dug her elbows into the asphalt and drug herself forward, scraping her body against the ground, but every last ounce of energy poured from her open wounds, leaking out with the last of her resolve. Nothing mattered anymore. Everything she did lead to more disaster.

Rolling on her back, she tucked her injured hands to her chest and sat up, rocking in rhythm with the pulsing pain. The smell of ozone permeated the air, burning her eyes and nose. The air was alive with electrostatic from the storm. Another mass of twirling light flung itself into the fog, illuminating the darkness.

The demons gathered in the shadows, as if sensing her resignation. She could run to the ends of the earth, and they would still find her. Let them come. What else could they possibly do to her that she hadn’t already done to herself? Her grades were in shambles, she was the laughing stock of Westland, and a fool to believe Jeff loved her. They approached, cautious not to startle their prey.

Blood flowed from her palms, staining her silk dress with crimson droplets. She’d slept with him while another girl carried his baby. No wonder her mom couldn’t stand to be home long enough to even have dinner with Quinn the Disappointment, the reason her dad had left. All of it was on her shoulders. A green wisp writhed its way around her arm, caressing her wrist, solidifying into a small-winged dragon. And Aaron—the one person that might have believed her, might have helped her—she’d thrown him away without a second thought. What did that say about her?

“Hurt?”
It cocked its narrow head and looked up at Quinn.

Another wisp curled itself around her ankle, turning itself into a furry, black, cat-like demon. Standing on two legs, it rubbed itself against her shin. Clenching her stomach, she leaned over and retched. Her sides heaved as she vomited guilt and regret along with her dinner into a vile puddle, but relief evaded her.

“Pain?”
The demon purred and licked her leg.

“
Follow me.”
Another beckoned, moving back to reveal a light in the distance.

“Home.”

If she could just make it home, maybe she would wake up and find it was just another horrible nightmare. Quinn got to her feet, mesmerized by the beacon in the distance. The rain slowed. Ignoring the beasts that followed, she walked toward the magnificent, glowing sphere. Warm and inviting, it floated closer with every step. The sound of running water, Bluebonnet Creek, just ahead. The faint glow of a subdivision appeared, pinpricks of light between the trees on the other side of the bank. Her subdivision. Home.

***

Deserted, the darkened streets melded with the barrage of rain, creating an unrecognizable, watery-gray world. The Jeep was an inadequate submarine. Aaron pressed his face against the window, searching.

“Can’t you go any faster?”

Marcus mashed the accelerator to the floor. The Jeep lurched forward, fishtailing on the slick road. The force whipped Aaron and Marcus from side-to-side like pinballs in a machine. Marcus eased up on the gas, bringing the speed back down to ten miles per hour, regaining control of the vehicle.

“This must have been what Noah felt like. Wish we had an ark.” Marcus tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“Man, I can’t see anything out there.” Aaron checked his seatbelt, sighed, and sank back into the leather seat. The three-minute ride from Tony’s to school stretched into ten. Aaron fought the urge to take the wheel by tapping the dash in rhythm with the windshield wipers.

“Are the wipers on high?”

“No, I just like driving blind.” Marcus hit an unseen patch of high water. Aaron braced himself as the sound of a rushing wave crashed against the car. Marcus pumped the brakes, slowing down enough for the wave to recede.

“Hey.” Aaron sat up in his seat and wiped at the glass with his shirtsleeve. “That was it!” Aaron gestured to the right.

Marcus jerked the wheel and slammed on the brakes. The tires squealed, sending them into another skid.

“You missed the parking lot!” Aaron yelled.

“I know!”

“Turn around!”

“Stop yelling at me!” Marcus gripped the wheel as the Jeep slid forward, slipping into a spin. Like a top, they spun, until the back wheels sank their rubber teeth into the soggy clay earth, pulling the rest of the Jeep into the muddy front lawn of Westland High.

“Great.” Marcus switched the Jeep into four-wheel drive, but the tires spun, traction-less. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of burning oil. “Just great.” Marcus turned the engine off and doused the headlights. “I guess this means it’s time to get out.”

The school towered over them, dark and empty.

“Now or never.” Aaron fumbled in the back seat for the flashlights, handing one to Marcus.

“You think the girls will be okay? Maybe we should’ve made them go home.”

“As if we could make them do anything.”

“At least they get to stay dry. Why are we getting out again?” Marcus zipped his leather jacket up around his neck.

“We can search more places on foot than the girls can on wheels.”

“So, where should we start?” Marcus asked.

“I’ll head through the practice fields toward the river. Maybe she ran for shelter in the field house or the alley. You start on the south side in case she headed toward Teresa’s house. If you don’t find her soon, double back and meet me here. Is your cell phone on?”

“Yep.”

“Mine, too. Call as soon as you find her. Ready?” Aaron held out his fist to Marcus.

“I guess.” Marcus completed the ritual: top to bottom, bottom to top, fist to fist. “Let’s get this over with.”

Aaron opened the passenger door. A rush of water soaked him to the bone. Squinting through the rain, he waved the beam of light in the direction he thought the tennis courts were, its ray illuminating every glistening drop it met, reflecting back toward him like a mirror. He said a silent prayer. This was going to be even more difficult than he’d thought.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Quinn trudged down the rocky bank, stepping carefully, so as not to fall on the slippery rocks that jutted from the steep riverfront. She wasn’t alone. The shadows kept tabs on her movements, calming her, encouraging her with their insidious whispers. She let them, wrapping herself in their foggy lies like a soft, fuzzy blanket, smothering any fiery fight left in her.

Approaching the river’s edge, the rhythm of the rushing water intensified, roaring its way down Bluebonnet Creek to the Rio Grande and out to the Gulf.

Exhaustion settled into every sinewy muscle of Quinn’s body. A giant boulder protruded out into the rolling waves, the perfect place to rest. With nowhere else to go, she lowered herself onto the damp crag, crossed her legs, and leaned over the edge. Water exploded upward as it met the hard opposition of the rock. Cold, black spray tickled her already soaked skin.