(This is the second part of The Book Man, to read the first part, press here.)
Rue spent Sunday in bed. Twice her mother roused her enough to get some soup into her, but exhaustion soon stole the girl away again.
Monday morning, Rue awoke from a sound and dreamless sleep to find her mother standing over her. Cool hand pressed to the girl’s forehead, her mother wondered aloud about her daughter’s condition.
“I’m okay, Mama,” Rue croaked. Her throat felt dry and scratchy.
“I don’t think so,” Mama replied, helping Rue to sit up so she could fluff her daughter’s pillow. “You’ll stay home from school today. I made you a hot lemon and honey. I expect you to drink every drop. I’ll be back to check on you after I get the others off to school.”
Rue made a face. “I hate lemon and honey.” It hurt her throat to speak.
“Drink it,” Mama ordered. “It’ll help your throat.”
Rue sipped it begrudgingly while her mother looked on.
“That’s better. Drink it up and I’ll be right back.”
Rue sipped some more. It did feel good on her throat. The warmth seemed to spread from her insides out. She hadn’t realized how cold she felt until she started to warm up. When she’d finished the cup, she set it on her nightstand. Snuggling down into the covers, she drifted off to sleep.
The next day, Mama bundled Rue up and took her to the family doctor.
Rue sat perched on the edge of the examination table, dressed in a paper gown that crinkled every time she moved. Her bare legs hung limply over the side, a fresh crop of goosebumps breaking out on the pale flesh.
“I’m cold,” Rue complained, wishing she could slide back into her clothes.
“I know, honey,” Mama said, sympathetically as she paced the tiny room once again. Every few feet, she’d stop to read a poster hanging on the wall. She’d already read them twice, but it helped to keep her mind occupied as they waited.
Rue looked longingly at the pillow provided. It was tempting to lay down on it and go back to sleep, but between the gown and the paper protector running the length of the table, all the rustling and crackling was giving her a headache.
Doc Edwards finally sauntered into the room twenty minutes later. His shoulders were rounded over the file he carried in his hand, his salt and pepper hair mussed as if it had been a rough day. There was a smile on his creased and worn face, but it didn’t smooth out the furrow in his brow. Rue knew he wasn’t frowning at her, though it looked that way. A permanent scowl marred his face from years of squinting at the small writing in his patients’ files. Her mother had explained all of this to her as a little kid.
“Well, well, well, Miss Rue, what have we here?” Doc asked, perusing the file. “Your temperature is a little low. Does your throat hurt?” He turned his faded blue eyes to Rue, peering at her over his reading glasses. Rue nodded.
The doc ran his fingers along her neck, poking and prodding at her various lumps and bumps. Mama looked on, rubbing at her knuckles as she watched.
“Say ‘ah’,” he instructed. Rue complied, trying not to gag on the tongue depressor. “It’s red, but not inflamed. That’s a good sign. Let’s take a listen to your lungs.”
The stethoscope was cold against her skin, but Rue held still. Doc listened to her heart and lungs from the front then moved behind her to listen to her lungs from the back.
“What are these scratches from?” Doc asked, keeping his tone neutral.
Mama moved to stand behind him. A strangled gasp found its way out of her mouth.
“Oh, Rue, what happened?” She asked, dismay in her voice.
Rue tried to reach behind her to feel them, but they were too high for her fingers to touch.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t remember scratching myself on anything.”
“Well,” Doc said, prodding the area around them. “Does this hurt?” Rue shook her head. “They seem to be healing up fine. I don’t see any signs of infection but I’ll send you with some disinfectant gel so we can keep it that way. Other than that, she seems to be fine. Probably just a cold brought on by the change in the weather. We see a lot of it this time of year. Keep her warm, maybe have her sleep in a nightcap to regulate her temperature until she’s feeling better. Have her gargle with warm saltwater twice a day, push the fluids, and give her chicken broth. That should fix her right up. Bring her back in if she gets worse, or on Monday if she isn’t improving by then.” He tweaked Rue’s nose. “Halloween is Friday, you sure don’t want to miss that.”
Doc gave her a smile and a lollipop and sent them on their way. Mama thanked him but the worry lines remained on her face.
Rue spent the rest of the week in her room, under a mass of blankets, a wool cap snug on her head. Mostly, she slept. Bizarre and fitful dreams plagued her only to slip away from her as soon as her eyes opened. Friday morning, she woke at dawn, feeling much better. For the first time in a week, she felt warm and her throat didn’t hurt.
Kicking off the blankets, Rue scrambled out of bed. With a smile, she pulled the cap from her head and tossed it into her laundry basket. It was damp with sweat. Rue gathered up her clothes and tip-toed to the bathroom for a bath. The water felt soothing against her skin. It felt good to scrub the feel of sickness from her body, leaving her flesh pink and new.
She trotted down to the kitchen, ready to start the day. Mama was at the counter, sipping coffee and flipping pancakes when Rue walked in.
“Well, good morning, Sunshine!” Mama exclaimed at the sight of her. “You look much better this morning.”
“I’m feeling much better,” Rue acknowledged. “Can I go to school today?”
“I don’t think so, honey,” Mama said. “Let’s take this slow. Make sure you’re really better before I send you back to school.”
“But, Mama,” Rue protested. “I don’t want to miss out on everything!”
Mama placed a pancake on a plate and walked it over to Rue, sitting at the table.
“I know, honey,” Mama said, sitting down across from her. “I’m sorry you’ll have to miss out on the school stuff, but if you’re still feeling better, you can join the others for trick-or-treating.”
Reluctantly, Rue agreed. Once Mama made up her mind about something, there was no use trying to get her to change it. With deliberate slowness, Rue ate her breakfast and then returned to her room.
It was a long and miserable day. Rue felt too good to lay around in bed, too restless to enjoy her book, and too excited about trick-or-treating to concentrate on anything else. She wandered about the house looking for something to do, only to be sent back to her room by her mother.
At last, her siblings trekked in from school. Rue’s excitement grew. It was almost time. Eagerly, she gobbled down her dinner and then raced to her room for her costume. Hanging on a hanger under her witch’s hat, she found the totem she’d taken from the woods. Surprised to see it there, having nearly forgotten about it entirely, she ran her fingers over the buttery soft surface. She examined it carefully before slipping the strap around her neck. Rue couldn’t tell what the statue was carved from, it felt too heavy to be wood and looked a lot like an ivory tusk her teacher once brought to class. The figure was difficult to make out, the material worn down. It appeared to be a kind of animal with long pointy ears, large eyes, and a wide mouth. It crouched on all fours; its head thrown back as if howling at the moon. A shiver passed through Rue’s body as she settled it about her neck. Broom and hat in hand, she hurried back to the living room to join the others for their night of Halloween fun.
Alicia, having lost the game of rock-paper-scissors with her older brother, slipped into her jacket. It would be her job to guide her younger siblings from house to house, while Mama waited in the car. She’d rather stay home and hand out the candy.
“Can we just get this over with?” Alicia complained, then turned to Rue and said, “What’s that around your neck?” Curious, she reached out to touch the totem.
“Don’t touch,” Rue said, slapping her sister’s hand away.
“Don’t be rude,” her mother said, leaning in for a look herself. Mesmerized, her hand stole out to stroke the object. “Where did you get that?” She whispered dreamily.
“I found it,” Rue said, simply. Quickly, she tucked it beneath her costume, breaking the spell.
“Oh … where was I?” Mama gave her head a shake. “Oh, yes! We’ll make a quick run through the neighborhood then cruise over to the school carnival.” Turning to Eric, her eldest son, she said, “We’ll be home by nine. Call the school if you have any trouble. Someone should be in the office.”
“Sure, Mom,” Eric said, flopping onto the easy chair and flipping through Hot Rod magazine.
Mama ushered the kids to the car and the foursome set off for a treat filled night of fun.
While Rue and her siblings were out trick-or-treating, Joe was on the other side of town. The Elementary School did a Fall Carnival each year as an alternative to running house-to-house begging for candy. Every year, the County Library participated by sending Joe and the Bookmobile to set up in the parking lot and give a bag to each child that included candy, small toys, and a free book. It was tedious, but it got him out of hauling his owns kids around town. This year, as he sat inside the mobile library, watching the night fall, he felt the uneasiness of the week before return and settle heavily around him.
The full moon shone down, beaming like a spotlight, the parking lot the stage. Though it illuminated the night, it did nothing to alleviate Joe’s growing discomfort. Joe felt … watched. He couldn’t seem to shake the feeling and, as the night wore on, his edginess grew.
Joe greeted everyone who entered the bus, handed each child a goody bag, and did his best to smile. By eight-thirty, the parking lot was empty, everyone having entered the school gymnasium. He could hear them laughing and cheering as they made their way through each booth, playing games and collecting prizes. Joe sauntered down the stairs to stand next to his rig, surveying the empty parking lot warily. A cold breeze blew by, carrying with it the smell of wood smoke dragged from chimneys, by the wind. Joe drew his coat tighter around him, wishing he could step away from the school to smoke a cigarette.
From somewhere behind him, a car door slammed, bringing him back from his thoughts with a jump. The driver had parked on the street instead of in the parking lot. No headlights gave warning of their arrival. Anxiously, Joe watched the shadows. Four figures cut across the lawn at the side of the school building, stepping onto the sidewalk at the corner. Three continued across the parking lot, becoming more distinct as they approached. The fourth, skirted the building before throwing open the gym door and stepping inside. Joe paid no attention to the lone figure. It was the three figures moving towards him that captured his attention.
He recognized the girl right away. Even dressed in her witch’s costume, it was easy to see who she was. Joe shivered in the cold and backed up closer to the stairs. The girl’s eyes seemed to burn into him as she approached. Behind her, her brother and her mother argued quietly about how many pieces of candy were too many. The girl didn’t offer an opinion. Her full attention was on Joe. Unease stirred in Joe’s gut.
“Hello, Joe,” the mother called out gaily as they approached.
“Good evening, Mrs. Crick,” Joe answered, his eyes on Rue. The bus swayed beneath the woman’s feet as she climbed the stairs, her son silent on her heels.
The girl passed silently by him also. Her scrutiny remained on him as she climbed the stairs, until she could no longer see him without turning her head. Hesitantly, Joe climbed the stairs behind her. Above him on the stairs, the girl’s body took on a ghostly sheen. It rippled around her creating an impossible duel image, as if two bodies overlapped in the same space. This second body was impossibly thin, its cranium bald. Deep red eyes that bore into him and stroked at his mind, staring out from the terrible face hanging translucent from the back of her head. The apparition’s long limbs reached for the terrified man. Frightened, he stumbled backward off the steps. The girl paused and turned slowly to look at him.
“What’s the matter, Joe?” Rue asked, a cruel smile curling her lips. Joe didn’t answer, his teeth held his tongue captive. The girl didn’t wait for one. Skipping up the rest of the stairs, she disappeared through the door. The apparition on her back, hidden once more.
A trick of the light, Joe thought, or his imagination. Either way, it was an impossible thing to have seen. Shaking nervously, his palms slick with sweat, he ran his hands along the railing as he climbed the steps once more. The tremor in his hands made it hard to turn the door knob, requiring that he clutch it tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. Trepidation gnawed at his chest as he stepped through the door.
Mrs. Crick and her son browsed through the books, the mother prattling away. Joe slipped behind the counter, his wary eyes on the odd girl. Her eyes remained locked on his. If anyone else on the Bookmobile felt the uneasiness hanging in the air, they didn’t show it. At last they moved to leave. Joe pressed the gift bags and free books into their hands. Except the girl. He pushed those across the counter in her direction, snapping his hands back to avoid touching her.
Rue looked at it as if it were a rattlesnake coiled to strike. Taking it up with only two fingers of one hand, she passed the bag and book to her mother to carry.
“Thank you, Joe, for letting us browse about,” the mother said, cheerfully. “How kind of you to volunteer your time to the community this way. You’re practically a saint!”
Joe gave a leery smile, thinking she meant to spring some community need on him that she hoped he’d volunteer for. Instead, she said nothing more, shooing her son out the door and down the stairs.
“Thank you, Mrs. Crick,” Joe managed to croak out. The woman gave a final wave and lumbered down the stairs.
Joe hoped the daughter would skip away behind her, but she hesitated. Grinning wickedly, the girl leaned across the counter.
“Be seeing you, Joe,” she said in a harsh whisper.
Joe recoiled, striking his head on the edge of the shelf behind him. The girl gave an ugly giggle before dancing down the stairs. The thing on her back rippled again. Joe shot over the counter, slamming the door, and engaging the lock. Pressing his nose to the small window on the door, he watched as she sauntered away, the thing gazing at him with glowing red eyes as she went. Joe’s blood ran cold. His body shivered and quaked.
At nine o’clock, the carnival wrapped up. Everyone: teachers, children, parents, volunteers, and Joe prepared to leave. Joe hustled through his check list, making sure all the books were secure before locking down the trailer and starting the cab. With growing dread, he watched the gymnasium empty out, the custodian turn out the lights and lock the door, and the last car pull out of the parking lot. He, too, wanted to be on his way, but with the cold temperatures after dark, it took some time for the diesel to warm up enough to make the engine go. If he pushed it, it could result in a break down along the road somewhere leaving him stranded. As he watched the last taillights blink out of sight, the thought of being alone overrode the logic of his mind.
The gears ground slightly, his hand trembling, when he put it in first. In his haste to be gone, he popped the clutch. The Bookmobile shuddered and tried to stall out. Joe, coaxing it under his breath, managed to keep the engine running. Revving it up, he tried again. This time the vehicle pulled forward slowly. Joe heaved a sigh of relief.
The cab was cold, even with the heater on full blast. Each time he exhaled, his warm breath fogged up the windshield. Frantically, he scrubbed the fog from the glass with the sleeve of his coat. To take his mind off the cold and his fears, he turned on the radio. The only station he could pick up was an easy listening station out of Salt Lake City. He sang along loudly in an attempt to dissipate the fear roiling in the back of his mind.
The road took him past the Forest Service Building where he did his usual route each week. The sight of the building set his teeth on edge. That girl! He should have stuck to his guns and never let her on his bus.
Just passed the building, a large animal shot across the road in front of him. Joe slammed the brakes to keep from hitting it, narrowly missing it. It loped into the trees on the far side of the road, casting a last glance at him before disappearing. Its eyes glowed a deep red. Then it was gone, hidden amongst the pines.
“What the hell?” He questioned, nervously.
Logically he knew it was probably a lost dog, or a coyote, but it had seemed different than that. Less fur, larger, and those red eyes. Joe gulped hard at the lump in his throat.
“You’re being ridiculous,” he muttered to himself. “That girl has you jumping at shadows.”
The gears ground a little as he forced them into first. Easing off the brake, he let the vehicle slowly roll forward, his eyes scanning the treeline. Seeing nothing, he pressed the accelerator.
He was almost up to speed when he noticed three figures out the passenger side window keeping pace with him. Melding in and out of the trees, first seemingly human then crouching dog-like as they ran.
“What the hell?” Joe leaned forward for a better view. “Damn kids,” he muttered, “What are they up to out there?”
The fear was settling on him again. The figures weaved in and out of the trees, preventing him from getting a clear view. He wanted it to be kids playing a practical joke on Halloween, but the hair on the back of his neck stood up, suggesting otherwise.
The Bookmobile continued to slow while Joe gawked out the window, its forward motion hindered by the driver’s lack of attention. The pressure on the gas pedal had eased enough that they were barely coasting along, the low gear urging the engine to slow to a crawl.
Leaning forward in his seat, Joe swiped at the condensation on the window, hoping for a better look. The three figures disappeared momentarily, only to reappear closer to the road. Three sets of red, glowing eyes focused on Joe.
“Whoa!” Joe pushed back in his seat, eyes wide. Abruptly, he realized how slow he was moving. Slamming his foot down on the accelerator, the van lurched forward. The engine coughed a thick black cloud of smoke. At the same moment, a loud bang sounded at the driver’s side door, making Joe jump.
“What the hell?” Joe yelled, glancing out the side window.
A large dog-like creature trotted a few yards behind him. The long, pointed ears reminded him of the thing he’d seen on the girl’s back. The thought caused him to shiver, the coincidence a little too close for comfort.
The animal raised up on its back haunches, lifted its snout to the sky, and howled. The hair on the back of Joe’s neck stood up. Three howled responses rang out from the woods.
“Just go, just go, just go,” he panted, panic rising in his chest.
He’d nearly reached the rise when the Bookmobile began to slow.
“Come on, come on, come on,” he begged, pushing harder on the gas pedal. The vehicle lurched then slowed again. Joe tried to coax it forward by see-sawing the accelerator, hoping it would catch and take off. The van continued to sputter and slow, then the engine cut out completely.
“No, no, no, no, no! Please, God, catch!”
Joe cranked the key. The engine made a grinding sound, but didn’t catch. Searching the side mirrors for any sign of the strange animal, he felt a small seed of relief at seeing the road behind him was clear. Over and over, he twisted the key. Each time, the motor stubbornly refused to start.
Hastily scanning the area around him, he saw no indication of the red-eyed beasts in the woods, nor along the road behind him. Off to his left, he could see the path through the woods. He didn’t want to take it, but if he couldn’t get the Bookmobile running again, it was the quickest route to help. Once more he cranked over the engine and pumped the gas. It did no good. Another glance in the mirror showed him four sets of small red dots bouncing in the distance.
“Shit!” There was no more time to play with the engine. Either he sat here like a sitting duck waiting for those red eyes to reach him, or he took flight. His mind raced through the possibilities. If he took off through the woods now, would it be enough of a head start to get to the other side safe and sound? Would he have a better chance, holed up in the back with the books until someone came looking for him? He could be stuck here all night if he did. What if those things weren’t animals? What if they were humans in disguise? They could get in and harm him. Four against one? Not good odds. If he ran through the woods, he at least had a fighting chance. Flight now would give him enough of a head start to save his life.
Mind made up, he leaped from the cab. He landed with a jolt, his feet sliding on the gravel strewn blacktop, bringing him to his hands and knees. Sharp rocks stabbed into his palms and kneecaps. Joe winced but gave it no thought. Intent on getting across the road and hidden amongst the foliage, he didn’t bother to look at his hands, but swiped them on his pant legs dislodging tiny rocks that hit the ground like breaking glass as he ran. The sound of his boots thumping against the pavement fueled his panic instead of abating it.
Down the road, the eyes bobbed, growing closer, taking shape. It resembled a large dog charging at him, though the ears and those unsettling, red glowing eyes proved it was no dog. It threw back its head and gave three short yips, the sound echoing through the night. The call was answered somewhere in the trees.
Joe’s courage waned; his footsteps faltered. They could be in there, waiting. Catching sight of the howling beast advancing on him, Joe plunged into the darkened forest. Leaves crunched beneath his feet as he ran along the path. It twisted and turned, lacing through the trees, driving him deeper into the woods.
Curving first left, then right, the trail suddenly darkened. The trees grew close together here, the canopy reaching high above him blotting out most of the moonlight. It became increasingly difficult to see the uneven terrain. The tree roots seemed to rise as he raced along, grabbing at his boots in an attempt to trip him up. Any moment now, he feared, he’d land on his face and be devoured by the beasts. Around him, he could hear them crashing through the underbrush. How many were there? A hitch caught in his throat.
Up ahead, a light shone through the trees, bringing hope. He ran on, his breathing harsh and ragged, thinking he’d reached the other side of the forest. The road should be just ahead. A tiny nagging voice inside him laughed at the thought. No way, it said, it’s too soon. He silenced it with a grunt.
Joe tried to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, but the footfalls behind him had changed. First, they’d kept pace with him, then he’d heard them charge ahead, and now they had faded. He resisted the temptation to look behind him until the desire to do so overrode his fears. Red eyes peered back at him through the gloom, bobbing up and down as the beast behind him loped along on silent paws.
Joe gulped at the lump in his throat. There was one, where were the others? Hidden in the woods? Up ahead somewhere lying in wait? Had they given up?
Gritting his teeth, he pushed his body on. Pain pulled at his side. It had been a long time since he’d put his body through such a workout. Fatigue gnawed at him. Joe clutched at the stitch in his side in an attempt to relieve it. His legs felt heavy and though his mind pushed for him to run faster, he was beginning to slow. Tears of fear and frustration leaked from his eyes, blurring his vision as he ran. Angrily, he swiped them away.
Another bend in the trail and he burst into the light of an open clearing. The full moon shone down from above, bathing the clearing in soft, muted light. It was quite beautiful. If Joe hadn’t been running for his life, he would have stopped to catch his breath and drink in the sight of it. But he was running for his life and those who chased him were too close.
From the shadows at the edge of the clearing, a figure stepped onto the path. Joe skidded to a stop, gulping on his ragged breath. Eyes darting about, he searched for the others. Only one, he thought. Lowering his head like a bull, and picking up his pace again, he ran forward planning to hit like a line-backer making a hole for the quarter-back.
A second figure stepped up beside the first. Then a third emerged, the line completely blocking the path. Joe stumbled to a halt.
The three stood at the mouth of the trail, in a hunched stance, naked but for the thin patchy hair that grew along the torso and haunches. Thicker growth covered the back legs. The front legs looked more like arms with clawed hands. The dog-like snout perched over a wide mouth. Large fangs appeared as they snarled, the lips curling back to show rows of the pointed teeth, dripping with saliva. Oversized eyes glowed with malice as they stared at him. Large bat-like ears stretched from the sides of their heads turning and flicking as if listening to sounds too faint for Joe to hear.
In the seconds it took for Joe to assess the creatures, he was surrounded. Swinging wildly in a circle, he looked for a way out, but the woods encircling the clearing glowed with smoldering embers that stared unblinking at him. More creatures blocked the path behind him. Terror gripped Joe’s heart.
A smaller, two-legged beast strode out of the woods. This one definitely human. Dressed in the same witch’s costume he’d seen her in earlier, missing only her hat and broom, the monster girl approached him.
“Hello, Joe,” she said with a smile, her fingers tracing the object that hung from a strap around her neck.
Joe struggled to speak, but no words came.
“You’ve been a bad man, Joe,” the girl said. “It’s time someone taught you a lesson. If you’re lucky, you’ll live through it.” The girl reached behind her head and grabbed hold of a hood that she pulled over her crown. Laughing she said, “But don’t hold your breath.”
Settling the hood over her face, it morphed into that of the others on the path. The girl’s body jerked spasmodically as long, thin fingers with razor sharp claws, wrapped around her body, pulling her into a bear hug before absorbing her altogether. The creature that stood in her place, resembled the others physically, but its face held an intelligence the others lacked.
“Hey, look, there must be a mistake here,” Joe said, hoping to appeal to the intelligence of the creature. A hopeful smile quivered on his lips. “I’ll not tell anyone about you, if – if – if you let me go.”
The creature advanced a step. Joe fell back. The smile on his face slipped away. A cold sweat broke out on his brow. Hand shaking, he swiped at it to keep it from his eyes. The circle around him tightened.
“Please,” he begged hoarsely.
The creature growled in reply, the lips pulled back in a snarl, saliva dripping from the fangs. The growl was echoed through the clearing as the others closed in. With a howl, the leader leaped at the defenseless man who screamed in terror, his hands flying up to cover his face. The call returned, echoing as more beasts burst into the clearing to bring the man down. Claws and fangs tore at his flesh, washing the ground with his blood. Joe’s screams rang through the trees.
The leader, intelligent eyes shining, looked into the man’s face. Blood smeared across the muzzle and dripped from pointed teeth, as its mouth pulled back in what could be perceived as a smile. Holding eye contact with the dying man, it dug its claws into his chest, ignoring the screams and pleas for mercy. The sternum broke audibly. With slow deliberation, the slim fingers dug deeper into the cavity. Shock settled over the bookman’s face, his eyes glazed over, and his mouth went slack. The creature’s smile widened as its fingers latched onto the treasure it sought.
Yanking the heart from its home, the beast held it aloft at eye level to the man, watching the light fade from his eyes. Reaching high enough for the others to see the bloody organ, it lifted its voice in a long, howl that was joined over and over, ringing through the woods.
In the small town that skirted the forest, the cries of the beasts brought parents racing out their doors in search of their children, hustling them back inside to the safety of their homes. Many locked their doors and pulled the shades low. All hoped to keep the evils of the night where they belonged: far, far away.
Too soon they would find that evil hides in the most unexpected places. In the hearts of those they trusted most.