“Do you want some coffee? I made some.”
“Sure,” Jonathan said. “Yeah, please.”
After Kirsty left the room, he blinked his eyes rapidly and yawned. When he stood, the room tilted to the left, then rocked back to the right. Jonathan took a deep breath and waited for the room to level off. He yawned again.
Kirsty returned and handed him a mug of coffee. It was rich and tasted wonderful. Immediately his head cleared. The remnants of his exhaustion faded.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For falling asleep.”
“It’s okay. You’ve been through so much.” Kirsty put her hand on Jonathan’s back. She rubbed slow circles over his shoulder blade. “You can talk to David tomorrow.”
“No,” he said. “We really shouldn’t wait. After coffee, I’ll head over to his house.”
“That’s really brave,” Kirsty said. She leaned her head on his shoulder; her hand continued to rub his back.
The scent of Kirsty’s shampoo, a mix of almond and vanilla, filled his nose. He drank more of the coffee and stared at the red carpet. The moment confused him. She was touching him, leaning on him for comfort. Part of his mind was in a full-on panic, and it sent waves of unease through his body. But another part of his mind liked this contact. Needed it. It was warm, and he didn’t want it to stop.
“Can you stay here tonight?” Kirsty asked.
The question surprised him. He immediately thought she was making a romantic advance, but that was more his fault than hers. He was so lost in the wonderful moment of contact that he’d forgotten, just for a second, what was happening around them. Kirsty wasn’t inviting him to her bed. She was afraid of being alone.
“Let me see what David says,” Jonathan told her. He finished his coffee with one last gulp and put his mug on the cocktail table. He stood up, already feeling the loss of Kirsty’s body next to his. “We might want to go to a hotel or something. Someplace with a lot of people around. We can figure it out when I get back, but I better head over there.”
Kirsty stood up too. She wrapped her arms around Jonathan and pulled him close. She kissed him lightly on the mouth, sending sparks of excitement through his body.
“For luck,” she told him.
Jonathan smiled and held her hand. Together they walked across the living room and into the foyer. At the front door, he let go of her palm and said, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Be careful,” Kirsty said. “You don’t know what he might do.”
Jonathan nodded. He opened the door.
Next to him Kirsty gasped.
David stood on the sidewalk only fifty feet away. Shock and anger covered his face like a terrible mask.
High above his head, three Reapers soared in gentle circles, barely visible against the night sky.
15
“I knew it,” David said.
The heavy kid stomped toward them, but Jonathan was already stepping back, slamming the front door. Kirsty lunged forward and turned the locks. Her trembling fingers fumbled with the chain. Twice, she failed to fit the metal knob into the clasp. Finally Jonathan moved her aside and quickly slid the chain into place.
David pounded on the door. “Kirsty!” he shouted.
“David,” Jonathan said. “You have to stop this.”
“Shut your damn mouth, you back-stabbing dickhead. I want to talk to Kirsty.”
“Go away, David,” Kirsty said, her voice cracking with fear.
“Just let me talk to you,” David pleaded through the door.
“Come on, man,” Jonathan said. “Just stop. You’re acting crazy. You can’t keep doing this.”
“Shut up!” David roared. “She was my girlfriend. Mine. You had no right to do this. Christ, after all I’ve done for you, you pull something like this? It’s SAW, man. Totally SAW. How could you? How could you do that to a friend? To your best friend? You didn’t even like her. You only want Emma.”
Jonathan looked at Kirsty. A flash of hurt played over her frightened expression. She lowered her head.
“Kirsty,” Jonathan whispered.
“It’s okay,” she said, not looking at him. “I already knew that.”
“Kirsty! Open the door. Come on. I just want to talk.”
Jonathan turned to Kirsty and grasped her shoulders. “You have to call the police,” he said. “Just tell them someone is trying to break in, okay?”
Kirsty nodded her head slowly and eased out of his grasp. Jonathan returned his attention to the door. “David,” he said, “we’re calling the police. You “I’m not going anywhere.”
Jonathan didn’t know what else to say. He leaned against the door, feeling miserable. He was jacked up on adrenaline, but he also felt bitter sadness. His best friend was a killer, a murderer with dark powers. No matter what else happened, his best friend was gone. The realization hurt worse than anything he could remember.
A touch at his shoulder startled him, and he spun to find Kirsty.
“He did something to the phones,” she said. “There’s no dial tone. Just static.”
“You’re going to be sorry,” David said through the door.
Kirsty ran into the living room. Concerned, Jonathan followed and found her standing at the window, holding an edge of the curtain back.
“He’s leaving,” she said.
“What about those things?”
“They’re still out there.”
“Okay,” Jonathan said. “Grab the emergency kit. We’d better get ready for a fight.”
Jonathan pulled a fireplace poker from its rack. He tested the weight in his hand and slashed it through the air once, like a swordsman preparing to duel. Kirsty grabbed the bag from the floor and checked through its contents.
“Do we have the duct tape?” Jonathan asked.
“Yeah. It’s here on top.”
“Okay, do you guys have a basement? Someplace without windows?”
“The basement has windows on two sides. A lot of them, but they’re small.”
That wouldn’t work, Jonathan thought. Likely, these things could creep through just about any space they wanted. They had no bones or muscle to give them bulk.
“What about a closet?” Kirsty asked.
“Too small,” Jonathan said. “We might be trapped in there for a long time. What about your room?”
Kirsty’s eyes lit up. “No. My mom’s room. It has a window, but we can block it. If they manage to get into the bedroom, we can still hide in the bathroom. We might need water or something anyhow.”
A window shattered at the back of the house. Jonathan’s heart leaped into his throat.
“That’s the kitchen,” Kirsty whispered. “God, they’re in the house.”
“Come on,” Jonathan said. He put his hand on her lower back and pushed her toward the stairs.
They ran, Jonathan one step behind Kirsty. At the bottom of the stairs, movement caught Jonathan’s eye. He turned to look down the hallway. Two of the Reapers glided into the hall from the kitchen. They rippled and spun as if caught in a violent ocean tide. But they continued forward, jostling for space in the narrow hall.
“Run!” Jonathan yelled.
They pounded up the stairs. On the landing Jonathan turned with the poker raised above his head, ready to bring it down on the attacking phantoms, but he didn’t see them. He scanned the foyer with his eyes and tried to hear the rippling of their bodies through the thundering pulse in his ears.
Jonathan noticed a broad stain beside the front door. It looked like someone had splashed a bucket of water on the wall. Except the stain moved. It pulsed and shimmied, moving slowly upward. Jonathan stepped back.
Another Reaper peeled away from the wall above the staircase only three feet from him. Jonathan stumbled back as a grin spread over the creature’s transparent face. Jonathan spun quickly, using the momentum of his misstep to drive him down the hall. At the end of the hall, Kirsty stood in an open doorway. She called his name, waved for him to hurry.