Some things remained unresolved. The transients, for example. No one would tell him where the homeless people who had been rounded up by the sweeps had been taken or what had happened to them. He questioned everyone, but they all claimed ignorance.
Perhaps it was just as well.
He was not sure he wanted to know.
Then there were the Night Managers.
They were one of the big problems. He had not gone down to their lunchroom since finding Ben, had purposely stayed away, but he knew he could not avoid them forever. They continued to roam The Store at night, to audit and report on what was happening, and their reports were becoming increasingly less objective.
There were no conclusions drawn, no adjectives used, only facts and figures, but the way those facts and figures were presented bespoke criticism, and he knew that he was going to have to confront the Night Managers sometime.
On Friday, he went down there again, this time with Ginny, and though she wanted to see Ben, he made her stay by the elevator door and did not tell the Night Managers to move from their stationary positions at the tables. He had read and reread _The Manager's Concordance_, but there was nothing in it about firing or getting rid of the Night Managers, and he knew that if he was going to get rid of them, he'd have to figure something out on his own.
The two of them stood next to the wall, staring across the long, dimly lit room.
Ginny shivered. "They're spookier than I thought they'd be."
He nodded.
"Are they . . . dead?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "I don't think so, but . . . I don't know what they are."
"Maybe we should try to talk to Ben, try to jog his memory or something."
"No," Bill said.
"Have you looked at all of them? Maybe some of the others are people we know . . . knew."
Now it was Bill's turn to shiver. "Let's just do this and get out of here." He cleared his throat, took a deep breath. "You're fired," he announced loudly. "All of you."
The Night Managers remained unmoving.
"You no longer work for The Store!"
No response.
"I relieve you of your duties!"
Nothing.
"Get out of here! Hit the road! Get off The Store's property! Fuck off!"
"It's not working," Ginny said.
"I know that!" he snapped at her.
She pulled away from him, and he apologized immediately. "I'm sorry. I
just . . . I'm sorry."
She nodded, obviously understanding.
"You have any ideas?" he asked.
" 'Leave?' " she said.
"Leave!" he repeated loudly.
Nothing.
He continued shouting orders, screaming at them, but only succeeded in making a contingent of Night Managers in the middle of the group walk over to the steel counter next to the kitchen.
"Let's go," Ginny said. "I don't like it down here."
He nodded dejectedly, and the two of them stepped back into the elevator.
In the seconds before the elevator doors closed, he saw the contingent of Night Managers walk away from the kitchen, back to their brethren, carrying new cups of coffee.
On their own.
2
He had rescinded the curfew several days ago and people were again allowed outside at night, but the fear was still there, and he drove home on an empty road, seeing no other vehicles, even downtown.
There was supposed to be an election in a few weeks to choose a new town council, but no one had as yet indicated that they would run for any of the positions.
After what had happened to the last two councils, maybe people thought the job was cursed.
Ginny and Shannon were both home, waiting for him, and they ate together.
Meat loaf and mashed potatoes. He tried to be cheerful, they all did, but as always Sam's absence seemed the most acute at mealtime, and they drifted off into silence, thinking their own thoughts as they ate.
They had not heard from her since her transfer to Dallas, and he prayed that nothing had happened to her.
School had started yesterday, and Ginny already had homework to grade and Shannon already had homework to do, so he spent the evening alone, numbing his brain with a video game on the PC. He was on the fourth level of Alienblaster when Ginny came barging into the room, shutting the door behind her. She hurried over to the window, pulled open the drapes.
"What's this?" Bill said.
"Night Managers."
He stood. "What?"
She turned toward him, her face white, blanched. "Look outside."
He did. "I don't see anything."
"Turn off the light."
He did so and again stared out the window. His eyes adjusted, and now he could see them, behind the trees, just as she'd said.
The Night Managers.
They were watching his house.
An involuntary shiver passed through him, goose bumps popping up on his arms.
Ginny pulled the drapes shut. "They're spying on us!"
Bill took a deep breath. "They're spying on me."
"Can't you call them off?"
He nodded. "I should be able to. But I didn't order them here."
"What's that mean?"
"I think it means King's coming."
"What's he going to do?"
"I don't know." Bill looked around the floor, picked up his shoes and socks. "But I'd better get down to The Store and meet him."
She grabbed his arm. "No! You can't go!"
He pulled away. "I have to."
"What if he --"
"I have to," he repeated. He quickly walked out of the room and down the hall. He stopped in the living room to put on his shoes and socks, then checked to make sure all of the doors and windows were closed and locked. "Don't open anything. Don't let anyone in." He looked around. "You still have that baseball bat somewhere?"
She nodded.
"Get it. Just in case."
Shannon had walked into the living room from her bedroom. "What is it?
What's going on?"
"The Night Managers," Ginny said. "They're surrounding the house."
"Oh, God." Shannon started crying. "Oh, God. I knew it. I knew it."
"Just stay calm," Bill told them. "I'm going to The Store. Hopefully, they'll follow me. I think that's why they're here."
"What's going to happen?"
He sucked in his breath. "I think Newman King wants to meet with me."
Shannon's sobs grew stronger. She ran across the living room, threw her arms around her father. "Don't go!" she pleaded. "It's a trick. It's a trap."
"Maybe you should wait until morning," Ginny suggested.
"And maybe he'll come here."
"At least it's your home turf."
"The Store's my home turf. It's my Store. Besides, I don't want him here."
"Maybe we should come with you. There's safety in numbers. And we're female. He might not --"
"He doesn't care what you are." Bill hugged his daughter, kissed her forehead, then moved over to Ginny, pulling her close. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
"What if you never come back?" Shannon sobbed.
"I'll be back."
The Store's parking lot was empty when he arrived, but the lights were on inside, and through the front doors he could see Night Managers moving through the aisles.
He felt cold, frightened, but he forced himself to get out of the car and used his key to open the doors and let himself in.
The Night Managers were walking quickly through the building, moving up and down the aisles, between the racks. They were supposed to be auditing the day's events, taking inventory and recording transactions, but they did not stop moving even for a second and did not even appear to be looking at any of the merchandise.
They just kept walking.