But that’s when the spider turned toward the girls, opened its mouth, then shot out a bony, skeletal web that flew with rickety grace at the first air machine, caging it. Yanking it down and crashing it into the shattered skull-sand.
As the dust flew around the wreckage, that first little girl cried out, her scream one long echo. The other, airborne pilot didn’t seem to notice the danger, and she kept diving in her air machine, the same long dark hair streaming out of her leather helmet behind her.
The spider scuttled toward the trapped pilot as she wailed.
“No… ! No, please, no… !”
Gavin tried to take a step toward her, but his boots were mired in the crushed skulls. I tried to move, too, but fear had me in its hold.
Then, suddenly, another cry filled the air. Inhuman. Crowlike.
At next glance, I saw that the huge bird that had been shadowing the first little girl’s machine in the original dream had materialized and it was diving down, aiming for the hanging spider. And when it impaled the creature, black blood flew everywhere—over the cacti and the sand.
When the liquid hit Gavin, speckling his white shirt, it was like the blood freed him, and he began to run toward the first girl, even though his boots were getting sucked into the broken skulls.
With every step, he sank deeper… deeper… . But he wasn’t giving up, and with a ragged cry, he stretched his arms toward the massive bird and the spider, who was getting impaled over and over again.
When Gavin raised his fist and punched through what was left of the spider, drawing out a dark blob of a heart, he held it up, staring at it. Then falling into a spent heap to the ground.
As the other girl’s machine kept diving toward us, the first pilot crawled out from the wreckage and then between the bones of her cage to Gavin, ignoring the bird and the spider like they were invisible. When she got out, she threw herself over Gavin’s back, clinging to him as he lay belly down, motionless on the ground.
In the sky above, the second machine pulled up from its long dive, then flew past us, continuing its journey like nothing had happened below. The little girl’s hair kept flowing, just like a dark river, and I saw her waving back at us until she faded away.
The bird began to bury the spider beneath the skulls while the rescued first little girl kissed Gavin.
“My hero,” she said worshipfully, clinging to him.
Then it was as if all of it—the girl, the bird, the cacti, and the skull-sand—had never existed. Just Gavin in a red, empty space. Just me, still on the ground, unable to move.
And then footsteps that thudded like a reanimated corpse’s.
It took a few dream seconds, but I looked over my shoulder to see who’d arrived. Elizabeth?
She was naked except for the bloody white scarf tied over her eyes, blinding her. Worst of all, her limbs were attached by large, thready stitches, like someone had tried to put her back together after her killer had dismembered her.
She didn’t say a word to us, only shaking her head in sad pity.
From somewhere, the sound of a muffled bell shook me, and when I looked at Gavin, he wasn’t next to me anymore. I should’ve known that was the end of the dream, even before my body got yanked once, twice, and then I flew backward, out of the red land, through the darkness, back to Gavin’s bedroom.
Expelled, I skittered over the carpet, leeched of energy.
Before looking anywhere else, I spied a wall socket, and I began moving toward it so I could stick myself into it for a rush of energy. The hallucination, the dream, the residual effects from the dark spirit had done their work on me, even with my power-line fill-up.
Behind me, Gavin’s voice came, wide awake. No fear. No energy I could take from him to make me feel better.
“You came back,” he said, almost regretfully. “You really should’ve stayed away from this place.”
I could barely look at him, but when I did, I saw a man sitting up on his bed, forearms braced on his thighs, his hair bed-ruffled. He had a longing on his face I didn’t understand.
Until I realized that he would do anything to protect his family—even get rid of the angel-ghost he’d touched in his dream.
The doorbell rang, and I realized that was what I’d heard in his subconscious. And before the cleaner could enter the mansion, I left the bedroom as fast as I could, trying to get downstairs to the chimney and to safety.
But I wasn’t nearly fast enough.
19
I’d had so much energy sucked out of me tonight that this latest experience had reduced me to a thin mass of coldness that could only inch over the carpet.
The doorbell rang again as I slid into the hall, then down the stairs, pushing myself to my limits, just like I used to when I played sports or went surfing with real Dean.
Faster. Faster!
But I moved more like I had a hangover, which I supposed I did.
Halfway down the stairs, I remembered a toy I had played with when I was a kid—the Slinky—and I let my essence tumble end over end down the steps. I was almost at the bottom when the door opened and a woman walked inside.
“Hello? Constanza? Is everyone all right?”
Under the lights that were blaring, the petite woman—it had to be Eileen the cleaner—seemed shiny and new, even if she was middle-aged. She had rosy tan skin like Noah’s that glowed from good health, a delicate nose and cheekbones, and dark brown hair that flipped into a Jackie O do. Her pristine light pink two-piece suit hugged her skinny figure, and her small feet were tipped by pink-and-white pumps.
She carried a big white vinyl bag that bulged. “Constanza!”
I heard the maid’s voice from the kitchen. “We are in a salt circle in here!”
“Good. Stay there for a moment while I get a feel for what’s around me, all right?”
“Yes!”
From the second story, Gavin’s footsteps thumped on the floor. I couldn’t summon the energy to look at him. I just rested, hoping my strength would come back. Wishing I could move.
Eileen looked up at Gavin, smiling, her teeth white. “You must be Gavin. I’m Eileen Perez.”
“Thanks for coming over,” he said. He didn’t seem put out that she was here, because he knew I was back and that I couldn’t stay.
I focused on the door that was still cracked open behind the cleaner. Have to get out before she traps me…
I pushed myself over the marble as she reached behind her, giving the door a push. Going… going…
It shut while I was only a couple of feet away from it.
I remained as still as untouched water. Could cleaners see ghosts? Or did they just sense them? Was I fucked here?
I rested my head over the floor, waiting for her to address me, to sprinkle holy water on me or whatever cleaners used. Then I remembered Twyla talking about iron daggers in the gut and how that was the way to “kill” a ghost.
When nothing happened, I turned my head to glance at Eileen, but she was only looking around, her dark eyes narrowed. She rubbed one hand over her opposite arm while addressing Gavin, like she felt a chill.
“I tried to make it in better time,” she said, “but I hadn’t charged my car up enough yet. So much for trying to save the environment, huh?”
I wasn’t sure what she meant by charging up a car, but I was concentrating on the fact that she was so damned nice and casual instead. Also, I was praying that her inexperience would cut me a break.
She added, “Constanza told me everything she could. Has the spirit returned?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“The spirit that went out the window earlier was dark, but there’s a ghost here now that’s… I want to say light, but I’m not sure that’s a good description.”