Clockwork Dolls - FF by R. W. Whitefield - FF

eyes fluttered. When she spoke, blood bubbled at her lips.
    “Jim? Put the light on, Jim. It’s too dark.”
    “It’s me, Jane. It’s Dave.”
    “Jim? Is that you? Turn the heating up. I’m cold. Jim? Did you hear me?”
    Dave looked up at Maggie, tears in his eyes.
    “What do I do?”
    “Just hold her. That’s all you can do.”
    “Jim was right. She needs a doctor.”
    “We can’t risk leaving the circle.”
    Jim’s body remained against the wall, staring at them, a reminder of that fact.
    “Jim? Where are you?” Jane said. She sounded weak, barely able to speak above a whisper.
    “I’m here,” Dave said.
    “I love you, Jim,” she said, her eyes fluttering, breath coming in hot gasps.
    “I love you too, sweetheart,” Dave said, tears blinding him
    Jane stopped breathing, dead eyes staring.
    * * *
    It was some time later before Dave laid Jane’s body down and stood beside Maggie. His eyes were hard and cold as he took her hand.
    “OK. I’m a believer. How do we beat this thing?”
    “I don’t know. But I think I know where to find out.”
    “Come on then. Let’s end this.”
    He stepped out of the circle. Maggie followed, still holding his hand as they stood, waiting. Nothing happened.
    “I guess the cosmos is busy elsewhere,” Dave said bitterly.
    He led Maggie out of the room. As he closed the door behind them, he turned for one last look at the bodies. They both had an arm outstretched. It looked as though they were reaching for each other.
    Dave closed the door gently behind him.

June 11 th

    The cop snorted.
    “So you admit it then. You fled the scene?”
    Dave laughed.
    “Yes. We fled. We were fugitives from justice. Running all the way to the nearest library. Was it really just this morning?”

June 11 th

    Maggie got a battered VW Beetle out of her garage and drove them to the University library, an old Colonial building that Dave hadn’t been in since his own student days many years earlier. And back then, he certainly hadn’t been perusing the stacks for books like the ones Maggie piled on the desk.
    The Mysteries of the Wurm, On Ye Philosophie of Life and A Treastise on Death.
    He picked up the latest one she’d fetched and read the inside cover.
    Ye Twelve Concordances of ye Red Serpent. In which is succinctly and methodically handled, the stone of ye philosophers, his excellent effectes and admirable vertues; and, the better to attaine to the originall and true meanes of perfection, inriched with Figures representing the proper colors to lyfe as they successively appere in the practice.
    “Some light reading then?” Dave said, but Maggie had her serious, no-nonsense look working for her. She sat down opposite him and started taking notes, switching often between several of the books in front of her. Dave sat quietly and watched her work.
    At some point he fell into a fitful sleep filled with dark dreams of revving engines, whistling wind, blind panic and fear.
    He woke with a start to find Maggie shaking him. On looking around, he saw that everybody else in the library had turned to look at him.
    “You screamed,” Maggie said.
    “Are you surprised?”
    She didn’t answer, just helped him out of the chair.
    “I think I’ve got what we came for,” she said.
    “OK. What now?”
    “Now you take me home…your home.”
    “Best offer I’ve had all year,” he said, but neither of them was much in the mood for jollity. They drove to Dave’s apartment in silence.
    * * *
    Maggie didn’t give him time to settle once they got inside.
    “We’ve got a spell to prepare,” she said.
    “You see, this is where we have a problem. Normally, I don’t hear that said very often.”
    Maggie had already sat down at the kitchen table and was again scribbling furiously in a notebook. Dave started making coffee. When he went for the cups, he found a nearly full whisky bottle in the cupboard beside them. He took it down and unscrewed the top. He looked over at Maggie, her head down