He banged the roof of the cruiser with his gloved fist and cursed again.
Off to the right, in the woods, something caught his eye. A patch of bright red, metallic, like the trunk of a car. Keeping his eye open for more falling tree branches, he made his way cautiously off the roadbed into the tangled underbrush, pushing branches away.
There was a car in there. Looked familiar, too; he'd seen it around town. But how the hell did it get in here? It was propped on its side, surrounded by trees. He moved closer, peering into the side window at the empty seats.
A twig fell on his shoulder from above, and he looked up.
"Oh sweet Jesus Christ."
He nearly puked. On two close-set trees above him were two bodies—he recognized them now, the schoolteacher
McGreary
and her husband—attached to the trees, crucifixion-like. Each had a huge sliver of wood through its chest, nailing it to the trunk.
He felt suddenly mad—who the hell would do something like this?
The red car moved. It was as if someone were on the other side, pushing up. It flipped off its side to stand steady again. Then from underneath it Ra
mirez saw something else, a branch that curled snakelike up from the undercarriage to be joined by another coiling over the roof of the car.
Around him, tree branches were in motion everywhere. Twisting and winding over and through one another, the whole forest was coming to life. Ramirez backed away from the car. He tripped momentarily over a fallen trunk that rolled toward him. Regaining his balance he pulled his gun, feeling foolish as he did so. Who the hell to point it at?
Turning, he ran for his patrol car.
At first he couldn't find it. It seemed as if the entire woods were alive now, and the road had completely disappeared under a heaving mat of foliage and broken twigs and leaves. Ramirez pushed his way blindly through this jungle, finding it tough going since the sky overhead had been blotted out completely by twining tree limbs.
Finally he stumbled onto the patrol car. It was still fairly intact, and Ramirez noted with a burst of hope that the roadway behind the car still was free from this madness—there was some roiling foliage at the curbs but the blacktop itself was still visible.
The car door was still frozen shut. With a mighty heave he managed to pull it open. The car stalled on the first two tries, then coughed spasmodically into life. Ramirez rammed it into reverse, twisting around in his seat to look behind him. Branches crawled over the hood and around the sides, but he managed to pull away from them by hitting the accelerator to the floor and keeping it there, maneuvering with his other foot on the brake. The car hesitated, tires screaming against the wild underbrush and the wooden arms holding the car back. But then he suddenly shot backward as though the car had been squeezed from a toothpaste tube.
The roadway behind was fast disappearing but he kept his foot to the floor, using up the road as it was eaten away by the forest. He could just
see
the end of the woods now, and off beyond that the town of Campbell Wood, sitting serenely in the late autumn afternoon.
A small tree, and then another, fell across the road. Ramirez was nearly thrown into the back seat
as
the patrol car hit them solid, flying up and over and then coming to a stop. He gunned the engine again, but then another and another tree fell across the back of the car, obliterating most of his vision and making the car jump on its shocks. There was a wall back there now, and a wall in front.
The patrol car began to move to the right, carried off into the forest.
Ramirez pushed at his car door. His sunglasses fell from his face. In the corner of his one good eye he caught something moving from the passenger side. He turned his head just
as
a huge tree trunk thrust its way right through the side window at him.
I still say bullshit.
He barely had time to think those words before his head was taken nearly clean off.
K
aymie was lost.
Here on this darkened stage, in this darkened auditorium, she felt more alone than she ever had in her life. Her father, who had looked so worried lately, and who said there were things he just had to do, wasn't here; her mother was home taking care of Seth, who was still in bed after getting hurt the other night; even her teacher, Ms.
McGreary
, the one person in the entire school who had given her any attention, hadn't shown up for the play. And there was something else. She knew that every pair of eyes in the theater, everyone in the audience, and even the others around her in the play—she knew that all of them were watching her. They were watching her with an intensity that nearly burned holes in the darkness. She had felt compelled to wear the things she had found in the attic, and she felt as if the white gauzy robe and the delicate gold crown blazed in the darkness like beacons that called to every soul around her. She wanted to run from her spot, out through the woods and home and hide in her bed. But she knew that wasn't possible now. She knew that all of these people wanted something from her,
needed
something from her, and there was something, down deep inside her, but sure and strong, that wanted to respond to it.
But what do they want me to do?
Something, she knew, was happening inside her, and she didn't really know what it was. She didn't even know if there was anyone she could turn to for help. It was as if she were in a long dark tunnel, the tunnel of her dreams, and that no one was there to lead her out of it. She felt isolated from everyone—her parents, even from Seth. There was also another feeling within her, something new and free, as if she were a bird, long confined, let out of its cage. Things were bursting into life inside her over which she had no control.
And someone was watching her. That same someone she had seen through the attic window. Eyes were peering at her out of the darkness, bright and hateful and
red.
What is it I'm supposed to do?
A knot of tension formed in
Kaymie's
stomach as the two spotlights to either side of her came on.
The boy to
Kaymie's
right, his face painted pale green with pointed black eyebrows and wearing a dark green leather jerkin and short pointed cap, began:
"How now, spirit! Whither wander you?"
The other spotlight, to
Kaymie's
left, held
a
short girl in pink robes and felt slippers. In a sing-song voice, she replied,
"Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,
Thorough flood, thorough fire,
I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moon's sphere;
And I serve the fairy queen
To dew her orbs upon the green. . . ."
Oberon, suddenly revealed by another spot-light, this one bright green, said, "Ill met by moon-light, proud
Titania
."
Kaymie went blank momentarily, casting a wild glance over the hushed audience, but then she remembered her lines.
"What, jealous Oberon! Fairies, skip hence: I have forsworn his bed and company."
As Oberon answered, a wave of nausea washed over Kaymie.
Someone's here,
she thought.
Watching.
"Then I must be thy lady," she said automatically, regaining some of her composure. "But I know when thou hast stolen away from fairy land, and in the shape—"
Suddenly she became aware that the auditorium had become deathly quiet. The lights had gone up. The tension in the air was thick enough to taste.
They were all looking at Kaymie, and there was fear in their eyes.
What do they want me to
do,
her mind screamed at her.
Up above, there was a
creak
.
The auditorium swayed. It was as if the wind had suddenly whipped up to typhoon level and was moving the place on its foundations.
Again there was silence, and then another creak.
The sounds were coming from the ceiling, from one of the huge timber strips which crossed and ran down the sides of the walls. Between the strips was oak paneling, which began to buckle in little waves. One of the beams seemed to be cracking at its center.
The hall began to tremble, sending shivers through the floor.
All those frightened eyes were on Kaymie, who stood helpless.
And then a panic began. Those who moved to the exits found that the doors would not open. A press of people formed behind them, pushing futilely against those in front.
Someone screamed.
Ramirez's deputy found the microphone on stage, and was trying to calm everyone down. "Please!" he shouted. "Stay where you are!"
There was a sharp sound, like an arrow being shot from a crossbow. The deputy stopped in mid-sentence and gave a short cry, leaning forward and throwing his hands to his throat. He stood bewildered for a moment, and then, weakly, almost playfully, looked down and tried to tug out a ten-inch shaft of wood that was lodged in his neck. He gave a gurgling sob, looked up at Kaymie, trying to say something, and slowly sank to his knees.
What am I supposed to do?
Chaos erupted in the auditorium. The two exits were now a crush of people, pushing madly with their weight against the doors. One of the exits began to give, and this spurred others to make a rush toward it.
The oak paneling began to peel down away from the walls, flying outward in great deadly strips. Seats and benches collapsed. The beams on the ceiling broke into small lethal projectiles that hurtled down. The beams lining the walls, meanwhile, broke away from their moorings. Everyone was screaming; a man next to Kaymie was shot through with a bolt of wood which speared him to a wall beam.
A huge section of the ceiling broke away and fell, crushing a score of those underneath near one of the exits and blocking it just as it had begun to open. Efforts redoubled on the single remaining door.
Another wave of horrible nausea washed over Kaymie.
She screamed and emptied her mind; she threw her hands to her head and grasped it as if it would
come apart. The window in the back of her mind opened a crack, but would not open any further. With all her strength she forced it open a bit more.
Instantly, there was a lessening of the destruction in the room. The ceiling overhead pulled back up and steadied.
She turned toward the blocked exit, and it flew open with a crash. Those in front poured through and out of the auditorium.
Kaymie was weakening, but the room slowly began to return to its quiet state. She could feel the presence of the other, the evil power around her, receding.
The room was filled with dust, and there was moaning from those who had been trampled or injured by falling debris.
The evil was gone.
Kaymie slowly brought her hands down. They were trembling, and she realized she was crying.
The auditorium was almost totally destroyed. The walls had been stripped bare down to the studs underneath; in some sections Kaymie could see through to the hallways outside. A few people had even been able to escape through holes in the middle of the walls. The huge beams overhead were cracked and splintered; some of the floorboards had peeled up. A few wooden benches had been reduced to sawdust. All of this had taken barely ten minutes.
Kaymie stood in the middle of the destruction, amid the creak of settling, damaged wood beams and airborne dust motes which formed a cloud around her. Through the gaping roof a sudden beam of sunlight shot through, throwing a circle of light around her
as
if she were in a spotlight.
"It's starting," Kaymie whispered under her breath. She now knew what had to be done.
The beginning of the end had come.
"M
ommy, it's stuffy in here."
Now that Seth said it, Ellen felt claustrophobic too. She moved past his bed to the window, noting the sudden low sheet of gray clouds that had descended over Campbell Wood. Everything looked gray and nasty—like the middle of January after all the Christmas decorations were packed away and the chill rains of the real winter began.