unbearable.
Lex pushed and went through the door and out into the night, dragging Soo-Lee with him. He moved quickly and did not stop until they were in the street. Then he dared to turn, expecting to see a mob of button-eyed people in hot pursuit.
But there was nothing.
The diner was completely dark. There was no indication that the lights had ever been on or that any of it had happened in the first place. He went up to the plate glass windows. Cupping his hands like binoculars to cut the glare of the moon high above, he peered in there.
It was completely empty.
“This is fucking crazy,” he said.
Then the alarm began to sound again.
12
Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap.
It felt like Chazz’s skin was crawling with thousands of tiny insects that were skittering over his arms and up his legs, down his spine and over the nape of his neck. The sensation was so very real that he scratched at his skin until it hurt. But there were no bugs, there was only fear and it was making his skin prickle.
He was watching Lady Peg-leg.
She had paused now in the middle of the street. She was just standing there, not moving, not doing anything at all. He studied her and realized that she had gone inanimate. She was just a dummy now. She had no more life than a mannequin in a store window.
What now?
He didn’t find this latest development very comforting. In fact, he almost liked it better when she was moving. At least he knew what she was up to. It was like she was waiting there, plotting, thinking, playing head games with him. Trying to jack up his unease and apprehension. If that was the case, she was doing a very good job of it.
Now was the time to get away, to do something, but he was as stiff as she was.
She waited.
He waited.
He wasn’t really sure what for, other than he knew down deep that he was essentially too scared to move. All of it was too much and something in him had simply shut down. It wanted to crawl into a corner and hide and suggested he join it. Again, he wished Ramona were there.
He wished anyone were there.
He had never been very good at being alone. Even as a kid, he was not the sort that could amuse himself building model cars or reading comic books or playing video games. He was a social creature (he liked to think) and he needed others around. The truth was that he needed people to justify his own existence, people to marvel over him and his athletic grace, his good looks, and easy manner. He needed the worship. Alone, he was empty and wanting and unsure. Alone, he had no confidence. Alone, he seemed not to exist or to be on the verge of dissipating.
And right now, he was not sure of anything other than the fact that he was certain he was losing his mind and there was no one around to tell him that he was not.
So get the fuck out of here, dumbass. Climb back out the window and go find the others. Do what you do best: run, gobble up some yardage.
And he knew that’s what needed doing. He could almost hear Coach yelling at him, motivating him, driving him, telling him that he had the tools and he had the skills but he lacked motivation.
Oh, he was so right, so very right—
The alarm.
It started again, droning on and on. Like Ramona earlier, it reminded him of some primordial beast pulling itself up from a Mesozoic lake and shrieking out its rage and hunger. It went right up his spine and seemed to make the fillings in his molars actually ache. The windows rattled. The world echoed with the grim noise. Then about the time he thought he might start screaming from the sound of it, it cut out and faded in the distance.
At that very moment, as if on cue, he felt something skitter over his shoe and he kicked out at it. He figured it was a mouse. He didn’t like crawly little furry things, but most of his old fears seemed pretty minor league now. Fucking mouse. So what? He could live with mice.
Then it started crawling up his leg.
It was no mouse.
It was a
Lex pushed and went through the door and out into the night, dragging Soo-Lee with him. He moved quickly and did not stop until they were in the street. Then he dared to turn, expecting to see a mob of button-eyed people in hot pursuit.
But there was nothing.
The diner was completely dark. There was no indication that the lights had ever been on or that any of it had happened in the first place. He went up to the plate glass windows. Cupping his hands like binoculars to cut the glare of the moon high above, he peered in there.
It was completely empty.
“This is fucking crazy,” he said.
Then the alarm began to sound again.
12
Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap.
It felt like Chazz’s skin was crawling with thousands of tiny insects that were skittering over his arms and up his legs, down his spine and over the nape of his neck. The sensation was so very real that he scratched at his skin until it hurt. But there were no bugs, there was only fear and it was making his skin prickle.
He was watching Lady Peg-leg.
She had paused now in the middle of the street. She was just standing there, not moving, not doing anything at all. He studied her and realized that she had gone inanimate. She was just a dummy now. She had no more life than a mannequin in a store window.
What now?
He didn’t find this latest development very comforting. In fact, he almost liked it better when she was moving. At least he knew what she was up to. It was like she was waiting there, plotting, thinking, playing head games with him. Trying to jack up his unease and apprehension. If that was the case, she was doing a very good job of it.
Now was the time to get away, to do something, but he was as stiff as she was.
She waited.
He waited.
He wasn’t really sure what for, other than he knew down deep that he was essentially too scared to move. All of it was too much and something in him had simply shut down. It wanted to crawl into a corner and hide and suggested he join it. Again, he wished Ramona were there.
He wished anyone were there.
He had never been very good at being alone. Even as a kid, he was not the sort that could amuse himself building model cars or reading comic books or playing video games. He was a social creature (he liked to think) and he needed others around. The truth was that he needed people to justify his own existence, people to marvel over him and his athletic grace, his good looks, and easy manner. He needed the worship. Alone, he was empty and wanting and unsure. Alone, he had no confidence. Alone, he seemed not to exist or to be on the verge of dissipating.
And right now, he was not sure of anything other than the fact that he was certain he was losing his mind and there was no one around to tell him that he was not.
So get the fuck out of here, dumbass. Climb back out the window and go find the others. Do what you do best: run, gobble up some yardage.
And he knew that’s what needed doing. He could almost hear Coach yelling at him, motivating him, driving him, telling him that he had the tools and he had the skills but he lacked motivation.
Oh, he was so right, so very right—
The alarm.
It started again, droning on and on. Like Ramona earlier, it reminded him of some primordial beast pulling itself up from a Mesozoic lake and shrieking out its rage and hunger. It went right up his spine and seemed to make the fillings in his molars actually ache. The windows rattled. The world echoed with the grim noise. Then about the time he thought he might start screaming from the sound of it, it cut out and faded in the distance.
At that very moment, as if on cue, he felt something skitter over his shoe and he kicked out at it. He figured it was a mouse. He didn’t like crawly little furry things, but most of his old fears seemed pretty minor league now. Fucking mouse. So what? He could live with mice.
Then it started crawling up his leg.
It was no mouse.
It was a
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