They swerved along the winding street, shooting through the narrow straights between parked cars. Jonathan had to force himself to look ahead instead of checking the rearview mirror.
Then—with a sudden whack! — something struck the windshield, and Jonathan felt the steering wheel slip from his fingers. Tires squealed for a moment before he pulled the car straight again.
“What was that?” Jessica shouted.
“I don’t…” Jonathan started, then saw a delta of yellowish goo oozing upward on his windshield, spreading wider as it was pushed by the wind of their passage. A tiny white fragment clung to the ooze, fluttering for a moment before it was ripped away.
“Just kids,” Melissa said. “And I think they’ve got a few more eggs for St. Claire’s car.”
Lightning flickered in the distance, illuminating the goo as it crawled across the windshield.
They reached the fork, and Jonathan veered left. Another mile ahead was the highway that led toward Jenks.
“Wait! Stop!” Melissa suddenly shouted.
“Do what?”
“Pull over and park! Clancy’s backup just turned onto this street. They’re right in front of us!”
Jonathan squashed his foot down on the brakes, bringing a screech from the tires. He swerved the car in behind a camper van and switched off the lights and motor.
“What are you doing?” Jessica cried from the backseat. “We can’t just sit here!”
“We’re not just sitting, Jess!” Melissa hissed. “We’re hiding!”
“It’s okay, Jess. We’ll get there.” Jonathan hoped it wasn’t an empty promise.
He slid himself under the wheel, one hand still clutching the dangling car keys. He wondered how fast he could get the engine started again if the other cop recognized his car.
Of course, if they pulled in behind them, they’d all be stuck here behind the camper van….
“Here they come,” Melissa whispered, huddled against the passenger door.
Jonathan heard the swoosh of tires whipping by and listened for the sound of them slowing. But no lights flashed, no siren sounded, and gradually the car faded into the distance.
“They’re gone,” Melissa said. “And Clancy’s headed the other way. He thinks he’s got us now.”
Jonathan let out a slow sigh of relief, but as he pulled himself back up into his seat, his heart sank.
A few raindrops had already spattered on the windshield. As he watched, they began to fall more swiftly, diluting the egg goo and catching the flicker of lightning like a hundred glowing eyes.
Thunder rumbled again, this time right over their heads.
He looked at his watch. They still had time to get to Jenks, but by midnight it would be raining like crazy.
“Perfect night for fireworks,” he said, turning the engine back on and putting the car in gear.
26
11:49 P.M.
THE BOMB
Rex threw himself at the roof door again, ignoring the horror that trembled through his body at the sharp smell of its bright, unrusted steel. As his shoulder hit, the door pushed outward another few inches.
“Can you fit through there yet?” he asked.
Dess looked at the narrow gap between the door and its frame. “No way.”
Rex stepped back and hissed through his teeth. He and Jonathan had been up here just the night before to dump off most of the fireworks, and this door had been unlocked. Now it was secured with a chain an inch wide and a padlock as big as his fist.
Rex hit the door again, his shoulder banging against steel with a dull thud, pulling the chain tauter and winning another inch of space.
“Still too small,” Dess said.
Rex cursed. The fireworks show at Jenks wouldn’t keep the darklings at bay for a whole twenty-five hours. They couldn’t afford for this part of the plan to fail.
They’d chosen an empty building on the west side of town, tall enough that it could be seen from pretty much everywhere in Bixby. Once the rip reached downtown, anyone who was awake would notice that their TVs, radios, and phones weren’t working. Hopefully when they stumbled out of their houses and into the blue time, they would spot the shower of rockets shooting up from this roof. Anyone who made it here could shelter under the protection of the flame-bringer until the long midnight ended.
But the first trick was to make sure as many people as possible were awake at midnight. And to do that, they had to get out to the roof, where Dess’s makeshift bomb lay hidden.
Thunder rolled overhead, and Rex smelled a change in the air.
“Oh, crap.” He thrust his hand out through the crack in the door, and a few drops struck his palm. “Perfect. It’s raining.”
“You guys covered the fireworks with plastic, didn’t you?” Dess asked.
Rex just looked at her. There’d been so much preparing and planning this last week, rain was one thing that had slipped his mind. The fireworks were on the other side of the door, outside, hidden under some old cardboard boxes. They’d be reduced to a soggy, useless mass if they didn’t get out there soon.
“Didn’t you hear the weather report?” Dess cried. “They’ve been predicting rain all week!”
“I can’t watch TV anymore.” Since Madeleine had unleashed the darkling part of his mind, the clever, human flickering box in his father’s house gave him fits to look at.
Dess groaned.
Rex took a few steps back, as much of a running start as he could get in the small stairwell shed, and threw himself against the door again. It budged outward another inch against the chain. Still not enough gap between door and frame to squeeze out onto the roof.
The rain outside was falling harder now.
Rex noticed that the metal was bending outward from the center, where the chain held it. Maybe if he focused on pounding the bottom half of the door, he could open up enough room to crawl through.
He drew his foot back and kicked the metal, sending another booming sound echoing down the stairwell.
Dess looked down the stairs. “Jeez, Rex. Make some more noise, why don’t you?”
“I didn’t smell anyone on the way in.”
“But if someone locked that door today, they might still be around.”
“So?” he said. “At least they might have the key.”
“They might have a gun too.”
“Humans don’t scare me anymore.” He gave the metal another kick; it scraped outward a little farther. Inside his cowboy boot Rex’s foot stung, but he ignored the pain, focusing on raising up the darkness inside himself.
Black spots appeared in the corners of his eyes, and he felt his body shifting within his skin. Pain turned to anger, and he began to thrash at the door harder and harder, ignoring the damage it was doing to his foot.
Wild thoughts eclipsed his human mind: the flat metal expanse was his enemy, the clever alloys inside it an abomination. He had to escape this human structure and get out under the open sky.
The door buckled and twisted under his assault, its bottom hinges tearing from the wall. Flakes of paint flew from the battered metal, which cried out dully with every kick. Finally the ring that held the chain snapped off, and the entire door tumbled outward onto the roof, like a drunk passing out cold.
“What the hell, Rex,” Dess said softly. “Are you okay?”
Rex got himself under control, letting the darkness fade, taking deep breaths and feeling the pain swell in his right foot.
“Ow,” he said softly, turning to the stair rail to peer down. If anyone was in the building, they must have heard that.
But no sound of approaching feet met his ears.
“Come on,” she said. “We’re behind schedule.”
He followed Dess out onto the roof, every limping step pure agony. The cold rain fell on his face and hands, stronger now.
The fireworks were still there under the rain-spattered boxes, still dry. Ignoring his foot, Rex helped Dess drag the whole pile across the black tar and through the door into the shelter of the stairwell.