Sweet Dreams Page 8

  “My parents – ”

  “Your parents are just like mine – asleep in chairs. I couldn’t get my Dad and Mom awake and my sisters are out cold. I don’t know what happened. Go look if you don’t believe me. But hurry, Heather.”

  Heather ran down the hall to the den. Her mother and father were sprawled in chairs. She shook her father, then her mother. They were cold to the touch. Heather started to cry, then shook her head viciously and wiped the tears from her eyes. She couldn’t afford the luxury of crying. She forced her mind to work rationally. She ran to her brother’s room. He was just like her parents – out cold, and cold to the touch. Steve was lying on the floor, his eyes open, seeing nothing. She put her hand on his bare chest and felt the slow thumping of his heart.

  She raced back to her room just in time to see Marc with the club raised high over his head. She noticed his hair was all messed up, as if he’d been in bed.

  “Marc!”

  “He’s wakin’ up. I gotta whack him again.”

  And whack him he did. Van stirred and Marc broke the stick on the boy’s head. It wasn’t a very big stick but it was sturdy enough to drop Van back into unconsciousness.

  Heather crawled out of the window and jumped to the ground. She faced her young friend. “Marc . . . I’m scared!”

  “Yeah? Well join the club, Heather. I just about died when that Matt Bradford stuck his head in my bedroom window with that funky light shinin’ behind him.”

  “Matt Bradford? Him, too? How many more are in this thing? What’d you do to Matt?”

  “Hit him with my baseball bat. He ran off, moaning and holding his face. I think I busted his nose. There’s blood all over the place. I followed the light over to Van’s house; looked in the window. His parents are out cold. Heather, I don’t know what to do.”

  Heather took command, playing a role she was to assume throughout the coming days – through many long, hot days and sleepless horrible nights. Days and nights of disgust, disbelief, fear, and living nightmares – of facing monstrous, seemingly indestructible beings no human could ever fully understand. She took Marc’s hand.

  “How’d you get over here, Marc?”

  “On my bike. It’s over there.” He pointed. “I dropped the baseball bat somewhere along the way”

  “O.K. Look . . . we can’t stay here.”

  “Well, where can we go?”

  “Let’s go see Doctor Baldwin.”

  “Yeah. O.K.”

  Heather felt Marc squeeze her hand and then release it. “What’s wrong, Marc?”

  “I don’t think we’re gonna make it, Heather.”

  She looked up and gasped in fright. The ball of light was enlarging and moving toward them.

  Jerry had leveled with Maryruth, telling her everything that had transpired that Sunday. He left nothing out.

  Maryruth sat for a moment, silent, staring at him in disbelief. “Supernatural occurrences, Jerry? Vampires or werewolves or UFOs or monsters? Jerry, now come on!”

  “I know, Maryruth, I know. It sounds like something out of a Hollywood set. But believe me, that autopsy was very real. And there is no way any human being could have done what was done to Lisa. Whatever did that left no track or footprint. And speaking quite frankly, Maryruth, putting together all that happened Saturday and today, it’s got me more than a little spooked.”

  She had to smile at that. “Interesting choice of words.”

  “Yeah.” Jerry sighed. “You know, Lieutenant Voyles said something today that has stayed in my mind. I’ve been worrying it around in my head.”

  “Oh? This Voyles person sounds like a real character.”

  “Yes, he is that. He’s a hard-working cop, but I rather like him now that I’ve discovered he’s human. And I am very glad he’s been assigned to this case.”

  “Then what has you bothered?” She poured them both more coffee. It was a good thing she did, for although they didn’t yet know it, this was going to be a long night.

  “Voyles said he’d seen some pretty cool ol’ boys in his time, but that I was the coolest. I guess he was referring to my lack of emotion concerning Lisa’s death. And he’s right. I don’t feel anything. I guess I’m sorry she’s dead; I’m not even real certain of that.”

  “All right. You want to talk about it?”

  He shrugged his muscular shoulders. “I don’t believe Lisa and I were ever in love. I think she wanted security and went after it. We’ve been living in a combat zone for years. Separate bedrooms, going for days without speaking. Maryruth, we could discuss nothing without our exchange deteriorating into an argument. And what I have just described is just the tip of the iceberg. Ours was a mean, miserable life.”

  “This, what I’m about to say, has to be said, Jerry. Have you thought about the funeral arrangements?”

  “There isn’t that much to think about. Lisa was an abandoned child. She has no relatives that I’m aware of. I’ll speak with Jimmy at the funeral home in the morning. Lisa’s body is still at the Cape. I don’t even know when Doctor Finley will release the body.”

  Maryruth studied the man’s face – a strong face, almost sensual, with dark, brooding eyes under thick eyebrows. His slightly crooked nose gave him character instead of taking away from his looks. His chin was square and strong. She could see the faint outline of an old scar just under his lower lip, right side.

  She had an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch him. He turned just at the moment her hand was reaching for his face.

  No matter how hard and fast the kids pedaled, the light seemed to pace them, sometimes on their right, sometimes on their left. It seemed to be mocking them silently, ominously.

  Whenever they rode past a lighted home and saw people in their living rooms or dens, Heather and Marc would scream at the men and women and children.

  But their shouts and screams fell on deaf ears. It was as if all the townspeople had become deaf and mute – as if Marc and Heather had become invisible.

  “Marc!” Heather screamed. “What’s happening to us?”

  “I don’t know,” Marc returned the shout. “Just keep heading for Doctor Baldwin’s office.”

  “He won’t be there.”

  “I know that,” Marc panted the words. “But maybe there’ll be a sign on his door telling where he lives.”

  “No! We’ve got to find a phone booth and look up his street address. That’s the only way.”

  They pedaled past a teenage boy and girl standing on the sidewalk. The kids waved and yelled at the teenagers. The young couple stared at the kids in stony silence.

  “I’m getting scared, Heather!”

  “Getting scared?” she panted. “I’ve been that way for half an hour.”

  The strange humming emanating from the traveling ball of light changed into an evil chuckling. The light paused for a few seconds by the motionless pair of teenagers standing on the sidewalk. As it enveloped them in its light, it seemed to grow stronger, the glow becoming brighter and the ball enlarging in size and shape.

  But those seconds gave Heather and Marc a full two-block lead. The kids turned down a side street and pedaled furiously. They could see, under the glow of a street lamp, a closed service station. But the phone stall was lighted. They rode hard for that.

  Straddling their bikes, Heather hurriedly fumbled at the dangling phone book and found Doctor Jerry Baldwin’s home address.

  “I know where that is,” Heather said. “That’s just three blocks from my house.”

  Marc looked at her in horror. “You mean we gotta go back that way?”

  “We’ll take the long way around. Down side streets. Maybe we can lose the light.”

  “Hey!” a man’s voice called to them. “What are you two doin’ out here in the middle of the night in your bedclothes?”

  “Mister,” Heather said, “please help us.”

  The glowing ball of light appeared out of the darkness, hovering several blocks away.

  “Help you do what
?”

  Marc pointed down the long street. “See that light down there, mister?”

  The man looked. “Naw. I don’t see no light nowhere. What light?”

  “That bobbing ball of light right down there!” Heather said, pointing.

  The man again peered into the darkness. “Ya’ll funnin’ me, ain’t you, kids? There ain’t no lights down there ’ceptin’ street lights.”

  “He can’t see it,” Marc whispered. “I don’t know why he can’t, but he can’t see it. Heather, we got to get out of here.”

  “Mister?” Heather asked. “Can you tell us a shortcut to Doctor Baldwin’s house?”

  The light slowly approached them, but it was still two blocks away.

  The man giggled and the kids knew then the man was not quite right in the head. “Oh, I could tell you. But he ain’t there. He works fast, that Doc. Wife ain’t even planted yet and Doc’s got hisself another honey to play with. He’s over to that head shrinker’s house. Doc Benning.” He looked at the kids. “Ya’ll on dope, ain’t ya?”

  “No, sir,” Heather said.

  “Gimme some dope.”

  The light moved closer.

  “We don’t take dope, sir,” Marc said.

  “Ya’ll gotta be. Both of you seein’ lights and shit like that in your heads. Gimme some dope!”

  “Mister,” Heather said. “We’re not taking any dope. Can you please tell us how to get to Doctor Benning’s house?”

  The light was now a block away. It paused in its movement. It waited, hovering just above the ground.

  The man giggled. “I will if you gimme something in return.”

  “All right,” Heather said. “We’ll give you the secret of eternal life.”

  “Naw! Ya’ll can’t do that. Can you?”

  “Yes. But first you have to tell us the way to Doctor Benning’s house.”

  “How do I know you won’t try to hook me if’n I do tell you?”

  “We won’t. Tell us. Please?”

  “Go two blocks, thataway,” he said, pointing. “Take a right, and you’re there.”

  The kids pushed off, pedaling hard.

  “Hey!” the man shouted. “Ain’t you gonna tell me the secret of eternal life?”

  “Don’t die!” Heather shouted over her shoulder.

  “That makes sense,” the man muttered. He shuffled off down the street.

  Marc and Heather did not turn around. Had they done so, they would have seen the light race toward the man and envelop him in its glow. The light suddenly recoiled from the man, its pulsing appearing angry.

  It glowed a deep red, and then followed Marc and Heather.

  9

  Two long-denied, bruised, and wary libidos came together in a rush of emotion. They left a trail of clothing from the den to the bedroom.

  Jerry cupped one full breast and began tonguing the nipple, enjoying the taste, the swelling tautness, the feel of the woman as she arched her back and pressed her nakedness against his.

  She opened her legs and pulled him to her, one hand gripping his hot stiffness and guiding him into her hot softness.

  Their physical needs were quickly sated, and then the M.D. and the Ph.D experienced a few moments of hot embarrassment as they reached for rumpled clothing and began to dress, trying very hard to avoid eye contact and trying just as hard to avoid bumping into each other.

  Maryruth finally sat down on the edge of the bed and began laughing.

  Jerry looked at her. “What? . . .”

  She looked up at him and shook her head as she ran her fingers through her tangled black hair. “Jerry, do you have any idea how foolish you look standing there with your shirt buttoned wrong, wearing one shoe and no pants?”

  A grin slowly split his face. “May I tell you that you are a beautiful lady?”

  “And may I tell you that you are a handsome man?”

  They laughed at each other.

  Maryruth had managed to find her jeans and put them on, but her bra was missing and she was naked from the waist up.

  “I think it’s in the hall,” Jerry said.

  “What?”

  “Your bra.”

  “Jesus!” She laughed and then sobered for a moment. “Are you sorry it happened, Jerry?”

  “No. Don’t be silly.”

  “I’m not sorry. I’ve never experienced postcoital depression.”

  “Nor I.” Jerry found his trousers and put them on with as much dignity as he could muster, considering the situation and his awareness that Maryruth’s eyes followed his every movement.

  “You have a nice derrière, Jerry.” She grinned, knowing what his reaction would be.

  She was not disappointed. “Good God, Maryruth,” he said.

  She laughed at him. “It’s true, though. You think men are the only ones who appreciate a trim butt?”

  “I really haven’t given that much thought,” he said, zipping up his trousers. Then he chuckled. “I . . .”

  Frantic banging on the front door put a damper on the conversation. Maryruth worked hurriedly at the buttons of her blouse and looked around the room for her tennis shoes.

  “Shit!” she said, unable to find the shoes.

  “I’ll get it,” Jerry said. He took a closer look at her. “Love the way your nipples look under that thin shirt.”

  “Get out of here,” she grinned. “Stall whoever it is for a minute, will you?”

  On the doorstep, Jerry saw the kids, both dressed in pajamas, frightened looks on their young faces, but then what caught his eyes and held his attention was a huge ball of light, bobbing just on the edge of the yard.

  “What in the hell is that?” he blurted.

  “Then you can see it?” Heather asked.

  Before he could reply to her question, Maryruth joined him on the porch. She gasped at the strange sight.

  “You can see it, too?” Marc asked.

  “Of course I can see it. But what in the world is it?”

  “The other adults can’t see it,” Heather said. “Please let us in before the light catches us.”

  Jerry waved the kids inside and they scampered into the house, relief evident on their faces.

  “We gotta talk,” Heather blurted. “You’re not going to believe what’s been happening to us tonight.”

  “What is that . . . thing out there?” Maryruth persisted.

  “We don’t know,” both kids replied.

  “Do your parents know where you are?” Jerry asked.

  “No,” Heather answered. “They’re all unconscious.”

  “What!” Maryruth exclaimed.

  Maryruth and Jerry listened intently, incredulous looks growing on their faces as the boy and girl blurted out their tales. The doctors exchanged glances of disbelief. Maryruth led the kids into the den and sat them down. Then she went into the kitchen and, with Jerry helping, fixed glasses of milk and a plate of cookies. While the kids snacked, Jerry had them repeat their stories.

  Nothing changed during the second telling. Jerry went to the den window and looked out. The light still bobbed above the sidewalk in front of Maryruth’s house.

  “Dolls and teddy bears that come alive?” he muttered. “Toy soldiers with real guns that shoot? A door that changes into gym pads?”

  “Say that last bit again, Jerry,” Maryruth requested.

  It was repeated.

  “Van Bishop is a star athlete, right?” she said.

  “That’s right,” Jerry said.

  “Gym pads would be firmly implanted—the thought of them—in his mind, right?”

  “I imagine so, but what has that got to do with Heather seeing them?”

  “Mind projection, perhaps.”

  Jerry looked at her, skepticism evident on his face.

  “I’m just looking for a way to go, Jerry.”

  “That’s reaching, isn’t it?”

  “Can you offer something better?” she challenged him.

  Jerry didn’t reply to that. He turned an
d once more gazed out the den window. “I’m not believing this,” he said. “But how can I deny it when the goddamn thing is right in front of my eyes?”

  “The light by the old tracks,” Maryruth said, almost to herself.

  Jerry turned away from the glowing ball and looked at the woman. “Do you know what you’re saying, Doctor Benning?”

  She ignored the slur on her profession, bit back an equally sharp retort. “Yes, Jerry, I realize what I’m saying.”

  He shook his head and rubbed his face. “Accept my apologies, Maryruth?”

  “Certainly.” She turned to the pair of young people:

  “Matt Bradford will be coming to see Doctor Baldwin in the morning,” Marc said. “I betcha on that. I whacked him pretty good; busted his nose with my baseball bat.”

  “And don’t forget Van Bishop,” Heather sid. “You gave him a pretty good whack, too.”

  Maryruth got up and walked to Jerry’s side by the big picture window. She looked out. The bobbing glow seemed to stare back at her. She shivered. “It’s . . . eerie, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. You realize if we call the police, they won’t believe a word we tell them.”

  “I’m sure of that.”

  They both stared at the glowing ball.

  “If other adults can’t see the light,” Maryruth said, “then how can we?”

  “ ’Cause maybe you both believe,” Heather said with simple youthful logic. “Maybe neither of you have lost what you believed in as kids.”

  Jerry smiled. “Out of the mouths of babes,” he said. He looked out the window. The light was gone. He shook his head, blinked his eyes, and looked once more. The light had vanished.

  “We’d better take the kids home,” Maryruth said.

  “Do we have to go home?” Marc asked.

  “You know you do,” Jerry stated. “Your parents will be worried about you.”

  “If they’re awake,” Heather said.

  Jerry looked out the window. Cars were moving about town. He could see someone walking a dog. All was back to normal, he supposed. The light was gone. He not only saw that, he sensed it as well.

  “I think, kids, Maryruth, the parents won’t remember a thing about tonight. I believe it would be best if you two did not tell them what has happened to you.”