Did it?
She and Suzie took their usual shortcut through the alley behind the Mercer Street Laundromat. They were halfway through it when Jillian said, “Do you think Craig would ever try to hurt me?”
Suzie spun around, walking backwards in front of Jillian. She was working on another Pixy Stick. Cherry. “I dunno. I don’t think so. Why?”
Jillian shook her head. “I’m just being stupid.”
“Has he ever tried?”
“No. He’s always nice. Too nice.”
Suzie tilted the Pixy Stick, tapped cherry powder into her mouth, then swallowed. “Then I don’t know what you’re getting all freaked out about. Besides, anybody who can get us free tickets to Big Mountain can’t be all-”
Suzie stopped in her tracks, looking past Jillian’s shoulder, her eyes going wide.
“What?” Jillian said, and turned.
Her stomach dropped as she looked toward the mouth of the alley.
The Rambler was turning in, moving toward them. Slowly. The reflection of the sun on the windshield made it impossible to see the driver’s face, but Jillian could tell that he was wearing a baseball cap. A red baseball cap.
And she knew, instinctively, that this was no accident. He was here for her.
Turning, she grabbed Suzie’s arm. “Run,” she said, and the two took off, hauling it toward the end of the alley.
The car’s engine revved behind them-he was picking up speed-and Jillian poured it on herself, trying to keep hold of Suzie’s arm.
“Come on!” she shouted. “Don’t slow down!”
But Suzie was breathing really hard now, sobbing, and Jillian could feel her starting to fall behind.
The car’s engine grew louder and Jillian wanted to turn and look, to see how close he was, but she didn’t dare, because she knew that would only slow her down.
Then she lost her grip on Suzie’s arm and had no choice but to look. The car was directly behind them now, Suzie stumbling in front of it, tears streaming down her face.
“Help me,” she shouted. “Help me!”
But it was too late. The car revved and picked up speed, its bumper hitting Suzie, knocking her back and over the hood of the car and into a row of metal garbage cans — and suddenly Mr. Stinky and his encounter with the bus came to Jillian’s mind — but Jillian didn’t have time to be thinking about such things, because the car was bearing down on her now. And just as it reached her, she grunted and dove to her left, straight into a pile of discarded cardboard boxes — as the car roared past her and squealed around the corner.
The boxes went flying as Jillian plowed through them, landing hard on the ground beneath them, the impact knocking the wind out of her-what little wind she had left.
She lay there for a moment, trying to breathe, trying to figure out what had just happened, when she heard a soft moan coming from the trash cans behind her.
Suzie.
Dragging herself to her feet, Jillian saw that most of the cans were lying out in the middle of the alley now, but Suzie was crumpled up against a wall.
Jillian staggered over to her, knelt beside her. She was alive, but her nose was bloody and one of her legs was twisted funny.
“It hurts,” Suzie said.
“I have to go get help.”
“No. Don’t leave me here. He might come back.”
“I have to. You can’t walk like this.”
“It’s all your fault. You shouldn’t’ve been looking in his car.”
“I’m sorry,” Jillian said. “I’m sorry.”
But she knew that looking in that car had nothing to do with the attack. She had been right all along. Maybe not the part about Craig-that was just stupid-but she knew that the man in the baseball cap had been following her. Watching her. Ever since they sat outside that house of mirrors.
What she didn’t know was why.
And for some reason, the photo from the locket came into her head. The gypsy girl with her big brown eyes.
Who was she? What made her special to him?
Suzie’s face was streaked with blood and tears. “How am I gonna go to Big Mountain like this?”
“Will you shut up about Big Mountain already?”
“You don’t have to yell.”
“I hate that place,” Jillian said. “I hope they close it down and burn it to the ground. I don’t care if I ever go there a-”
Suzie’s eyes went wide again and Jillian froze.
Someone was behind her.
Suddenly an arm wrapped around her-that same arm she’d seen dangling from the Rambler’s window-as a hand came up to her face carrying a damp, greasy rag. It covered her mouth and nose, and before Jillian even had a chance to resist, she sucked in a deep, frightened breath — and everything went black.
2 7
“ Jillian?”
McBride didn’t stir. Was so still, in fact, that Pope wondered if she was breathing.
He touched her wrist, feeling for a pulse.
The beat was there, but erratic. Should he bring her out? “Jillian, talk to me. Tell me what’s happening.”
Still no response.
“Jillian, can you hear me?”
Nothing.
What was going on inside there? Why wouldn’t she respond? He’d never seen anything like this before.
“Anna, it’s Pope. Listen to me. I’m going to start counting again. And when I get to ten, I want you to open your eyes and-”
McBride’s eyes flew open. “He has me in his car.”
She was trembling. Frightened.
Pope thought she might have spontaneously emerged from her trance, but quickly realized that she was still under. He waved a hand in front of her face, but she didn’t react, blind to the real world.
“I’m in his car,” she repeated.
“Where, Jillian? Where is he taking you?”
“I–I don’t know, I… He put tape on me. On my mouth and my hands and feet. He’s going to hurt me. I know he’s going to hurt me.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t let him. Look around. Tell me what you see.”
McBride’s head turned, her eyes searching blankly.
“The shadows. Tree shadows. He’s taking me into the… no, wait. I’ve seen this place before. I’ve been here. It’s a park. We used to bring Mr. Stinky here.”
“Who?”
“My dog. He died when I was…” She stiffened. “Oh, god, he’s stopping the car.”
“It’s all right,” Pope said. “Tell me what you see. Tell me everything you see.”
“I want my mom. Please call my mom.”
“Easy, Jillian, it’s okay.”
“He’s opening my door now. Please. You have to make him stop.”
Pope got to his feet and stood over her. He’d let this go on too long.
“Anna, listen to me carefully. It’s time to let Jillian go.”
“You have to stop him! Somebody has to stop him.”
“Anna, I need you to listen to me.”
But McBride was oblivious. “He’s pulling me out of the car, he’s got the shovel now!” She started thrashing in the chair, as if fighting off an invisible force. “Help me! You have to help me!”
Pope took her by the shoulders. “Anna, it’s me, it’s Pope. You need to let her go. Let her go now. I’m going to start counting from one to-”
“He’s dragging me into the middle of the park!” Anna shouted. “He’s got a suitcase with him. He’s pulling something… Mommy! Mommy, help me! He has a knife! He’s going to-”
“What are you doing to her?”
The voice was shrill, angry.
Startled, Pope spun around, surprised to see Evan standing stiffly at the mouth of the hallway. He was staring straight at them, but only the whites of his eyes were showing.
“What are you doing to my Anna?”
But the voice coming out of him was not his. It was older. More mature.
A woman?
“He’s hurting me!” Anna shouted. “He’s got his knife out and he’s cutting me! He’s cutting my finger!”
Evan moved toward them. “Don’t you see what you’ve done, you fool? You’ve opened a door. You have to bring her back! Bring her back now!”
Pope looked from one to the other, feeling as if his mind were about to astral project straight out of his body. This had to be the most surreal moment he had ever experienced in his thirty-eight years of life.