The man gave him a pat on the shoulder as if to bolster him, then disappeared into the darkness beyond the shrubbery. A moment later Mitch heard the car start up and make its way out of the parking lot.
Everything fell deathly still again.
In the distance he could hear the sound of the water churning at the bottom of the dam. It sounded like the rumble of thunder.
Just what kind of a storm’s brewing here? he wondered.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
[49]
The man had been born as Malcolm Winters.
In junior high, he went by the name of Raines, his personal homage to Claude Raines, the Invisible Man. It was fitting not only because of his personal fascination with going unseen and barely noticed, but also because more often than not he was absent from class. And when he wasn’t absent in body, he was absent in mind, which was a thousand miles away, fantasizing bigger than life adventures, narrow escapes from death, and beautiful women. Substitute teachers knew him as the quiet one, who sat in the back and never said a word.
There were no pictures of him in the high school year book.
In college, where he majored in political science, he was just another face in the crowd, dabbling with who he wanted to be, struggling to be who he was. He wrote occasional articles for the university paper, though. Most often under the name of Ted R. O’Bannon, though twice he used the name Red P. Covee, an anagram for “Deep Cover” that amused him endlessly. He rarely went by his birth-given name.
In his senior year, he was approached, and a short time later recruited.
From that moment on, what little left of the Malcolm Winters of old ceased to exist altogether.
In its place came a long procession of new identities: Dexter Clements, a gun runner from New Mexico; Peter J. Thompson, an investment banker from Toledo; Howard Jenkins, a real estate investor who just moved west from Arlington, Virginia; Marshal Witmer, an FBI agent; and a host of other characters, some respectable, some shady, all of them comfortable fits.
Buried even deeper beneath these various identities, he went by the name of D.C., which he sometimes explained as being David Collins, other times as Daniel Clements. In reality, it was neither of these. It was the return of the old college anagram. The initials stood for Deep Cover.
Those who worked with him realized that much of this was just a game.
And that’s what made him so dangerous.
[50]
Teri toweled off her wet hair and found herself staring into the bathroom mirror. Dark circles were beginning to show under her eyes. She looked like a woman who had spent the past several days without any sleep. Which was fairly close to the truth, she supposed.
She felt nearly as sluggish as she looked. Though her period wasn’t for another week yet, she thought she had probably started retaining water already. That made for a partial explanation anyway. Closer to the truth, it wasn’t her biology that was taking its toll. It was the stress of the past few days. Being on the run, always looking over your shoulder, not having the slightest clue of who’s after you or why… it didn’t take long for these things to start wearing a person down, and the wear on her was gradually becoming more visible.
How long was this going to go on?
She finished drying her hair, dressed, and wandered back into the bedroom area of the motel room. They were staying at a Motel Six, just off the highway, a couple miles north of town. There was a constant drone of traffic outside. Instead of finding it annoying, however, she had found it somewhat comforting, as if it helped to reassure her that she wasn’t alone in this, that there were, in fact, other people just outside the door.
The boy sat up in bed, chewing on his fingernails, transfixed by an episode of Tales From The Crypt.
“You shouldn’t be watching that,” Teri said.
“Why not?”
“You’re too young, that’s why.”
“But I’m getting older,” he said with an impish grin.
She had tried to explain it to him, the fact that he was aging prematurely, but it had proven to be a difficult concept for an eleven-year-old to grasp. Hell, it had been a difficult concept for the mother of an eleven-year-old to grasp.
“That’s not funny,” she said, more sharply than she intended.
His grin disappeared. “I was just kidding.”
“I know, but it’s not something you should be kidding about.”
“Why not? It’s not happening to you.”
“Don’t talk to me like that.” Teri sat down on the bed next to him, feeling both angry and dispirited. He was right, of course. She wasn’t the one it was happening to, and she would probably never know exactly what it was like to be in his position.
“Look,” she said, recouping her composure. “I know the past couple of days haven’t been much fun. And I know what the doctor said today had to be a little scary for you.”
“It wasn’t scary.”
It should have been, she thought.
“I want to grow up, Mom. I’m eleven already. I’m old enough to watch Tales From The Crypt and stuff like that.” He glanced self-consciously at his hands, which were in his lap. “You used to let me watch Tales From the Darkside. It’s the same thing.”
“No, it’s not the same thing. And you know it isn’t. Besides, that’s not really the issue here.”
“Then what is the issue?”
“It’s your health, Gabe. Once you start aging, there’s no turning back. You’re going to get older much faster than most people.”
“So?”
“So, there’s no way to stop the process.”
“Yeah, but I’ll be an adult, won’t I?”
“You won’t be any bigger, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”
“I won’t?”
“No, you won’t.”
“I don’t get it. How can I get older without getting bigger?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” She put her arm over his shoulder and wished she could magically make everything better. It wasn’t fair, bringing him back after such a long absence and then giving him something like this. It wasn’t fair at all. “This isn’t the same as growing up.”
“What is it, then?”
“Well, Dr. Childs seems to think that it’s something like Hutchinson-Gilford Syndrome. That’s a disease that children sometimes get, and it’s something that makes their bodies grow old much faster than they’re supposed to.”
“Will I get gray hair and have to wear false teeth?”
“I’m not sure about the false teeth,” Teri said, actually finding a breath of humor mixed into the horror. In reality, she really wasn’t sure if he’d have to wear false teeth or not. But the question caught her so completely off guard that she found herself smiling without being able to help herself.
“How about wrinkles? Am I gonna get wrinkles?”
“As I understand what the doctor said, the cells in your body will start to lose some of their regenerative abilities. What I mean by that is that they won’t replace themselves as often as healthy cells are supposed to. When that happens, your body’s going to wear out a little faster than everyone else’s.”
“Yeah, but am I gonna get wrinkles?”
“Yes,” she said, the humor suddenly gone. “I think so.”
“Weird.”
“I know. It’s very weird.”
“Am I gonna die?”
“We’re all going to die, Gabe.”