Darkborn (20 page)

Another click — no louder than the thousands of others — just different. .
 
.
 
.

And easily found.

It came from the bottom of the horse, from the post that held it locked on the single rail it traveled.

Narrio laughed, holding on to the metal stirrup.

The face was on each door. The wide toothy smile. The slicked-down hair. The poached-egg eyes.

The twisted symbol of Steeplechase.

The latch holding Narrio’s horse popped up. And then the horse started sliding away.

Narrio’s smile faded.

He tried to slide off.

Not a good idea.

Because the horse picked up speed, hitting an immediate downhill that sent the horse speeding away, to the other end of the building, toward the beach, and sea, and the waves.

Narrio nearly fell off.

Through the closed door, Will heard Narrio scream.

Will pushed his face against the glass. Narrio’s horse soared up one side of the hill and then turned the corner of the building.

And Will couldn’t hear him anymore.

He’ll come around the other side, Will thought, looking across to the other side of the building.

And Narrio will be able to jump off there. If he moves fast enough, if the blotto fool thinks.

Will ran over there, thinking, What’s the big deal? What if he goes on the ride all the way, what’s the problem?

He heard Whalen behind him, following him, finally aware that something was wrong.

“What did he do?” Whalen called from behind Will.

But Will didn’t answer. He had to get to the other side before Narrio went sailing by, without a drunken idea about how to get off.

Will got there, to the other side, to another door, another platform, another door that wouldn’t fucking open.

I’ll smash the glass, he thought. I’ll yell at Narrio.

And then he saw what he must have known, must have seen before — but only in some dank corner of his subconscious.

The rails, the — four rails for the four horses, came to an end.

They just ended.

In thin air. Right there, next to the platform.

Somebody had taken them down already. Started taking Steeplechase apart.

Part of the demolition.

They ended.

And now Will heard the scream again, closer, louder …

As the insane clicking, the sharp sounds, mixed now with Narrio’s screams.

Will pulled against the door.

Surrounded by the din, the sound of a million teeth chattering in the frozen darkness, a million crazy, jabbering hungry teeth about to eat them all alive .
 
.
 
.

* * *

16

Narrio galloped toward Will.

His face twisted sadly to the side, as if he’d had a stroke, as if all the muscles in his face were gone. Even from yards away, Will could feel those dark eyes locked on him, begging him to help.

He looks sick, thought Will.

And Will screamed at him.

“Jump off the horse! Jump off the goddamn horse!”

I said the words, thought Will. I really did. I screamed at him. Then why isn’t he moving? Why the hell isn’t he doing anything?

The horse’s eyes were frozen into the wild, frenzied excitement of the race. Its front hooves were perpetually up, ready to leap over the next fence, the next stream.

Narrio flew past Will.

And Will thought of smashing the glass. Reaching out and grabbing him. Yank Narrio right off the horse.

Except — he saw that Narrio’s hands were locked on the metal stirrup, holding on for salvation.

“Jump!” Will yelled.

One last time.

As Narrio sailed by, unaware of what was ahead. Goddamn you, Will thought. Why wouldn’t you listen, why wouldn’t you jump off the horse and —

The clicking was deafening.

I’m going crazy, thought Will. I’ve drunk too much and I’m going mad .
 
.
 
.

Like that gibbering idiot in the Poe story.

Screaming about that heart, still beating, under the floorboards .
 
.
 
.

There was a wrenching sound. Metal scraping against metal.

“Jesus.” Will whimpered.

A prayer this time.

Another wrenching sound. And
there
— Narrio’s scream.

Will watched it happen.

At first. Narrio and the horse sailed together, a wild leap into space as the rail ended. It was like the diving horse at the Steel Pier in Atlantic City. The horse climbed up. high above a giant tank at the end of the amusement pier. while some fat announcer in a spangled suit made lame jokes.

And when the horse finally dove off the small board, its legs shaking — so scared — its eyes were terrible to look at. They were so big with fear that they looked as if they’d pop out of its head.

A beautiful girl rode the horse. She held on tight. pressing her lean thighs against the sides of the horse.

She smiled. The horse looked insane.

This was like that.

Narrio’s scream echoed from down below.

And Will had plenty of time to watch it all. It took forever to happen. Forever. He watched Narrio separate from the horse. still trying to hold on to the stirrup. but then the horse’s heavy body pulled away.

Mass times acceleration.

Equals force.

Ouskoop demonstrated the principle with steel balls and an inclined plane. Different masses move with different force.

Then Narrio was flying free, the scream swelling, sounding pitiful, horribly sad. He knows what’s going to happen to him, thought Will.

Plenty of time for that. Plenty. And Will watched the way Narrio’s body landed.

Narrio’s head was up. As if he were straining to get back to the rail. His hands were in front of him, like a kid trying to stop himself sledding too fast down a snowy hill.

But just below Narrio was a shed of some kind. It had a tin roof, a roof that protruded around the top of the building.

The horse crashed to the ground. The sound, the shattering sound of the metal carcass exploding against the ground, made Will shiver.

But then Narrio flew into the shed.

And the roof, the flat piece of metal, hit his neck.

Narrio’s body smashed into the building. There was a sick dull thud, the sound flesh and bone makes when it smashes into something. The sound a rotten tomato made when he threw it against old Mrs. McDaniel’s door at Halloween.

It went
splat
.

The roof sheared off the head.

The snapping sound was sudden, electric. Narrio’s head tossed up in the air. A free ball, in play, spinning around and around. Still with that same lopsided look, still not too happy about what was happening.

Will saw the face move. It didn’t know that it had no body.

“Jesus.” Will whispered again.

Around and around, until the head careened off the top of the metal roof. There was a bang, a thud, and it rolled away.

Mike Narrio’s ride not yet over.

Will backed away.

He looked around.

The clicking stopped.

It’s just in my head
, he thought.
Just in my fucking head.

For a second. it was as if it hadn’t happened.

He turned and saw Whalen, sweating, bug-eyed. Almost funny-looking .
 
.
 
.

And then Kiff, standing there, mouthing words, trying to say something, but Will didn’t hear anything. Nothing at all.

Just the water now. And the wind whispering through the building. Whistling and wheezing the way it does in a cheap horror movie.

Oooooo!

And then — coming behind Will — he saw Tim.

Where’s Narrio? he wanted to say. I’ve just seen the damnedest thing. So where the fuck is Narrio?

But that was
just it.

Narrio was down there.

Something happened to Narrio.

Things were different.

And as Will looked at them, he thought: Now there are four of us .
 
.
 
.

* * *

They gathered by the shed, even though they knew that Narrio’s head was somewhere yards away. Sitting in its own blood, in the darkness.

We don’t want to see that, Will thought.

The body had smashed into the shed and then bounced backward so that now the stalk stretched out, pointing to the sea. A steady steam of red spread from it.

“Oh, God,” Kiff said. “Oh, God, poor Narrio, poor fucking Mikey.”

The stream just grew and grew.

So much blood in a body.

And Will looked up. There was a new smell now.

This sweet metallic smell mixing with the wood and oil.

To the left, one of those freaky faces looked down at them. The Steeplechase man. Happy at their plight. Happy at everything.

Sorry, Michael, Will thought, apologizing. I guess we shouldn’t have come here. I guess we should have gone to the dance. And you could still play your trumpet. And laugh at Kiff’s dumb jokes, and bust your ass studying calculus because it’s such a bitch for you.

“Should we get him .
 
.
 
. his — shit! His head?” Whalen said. His voice came from miles away.

“What?”

“The head. Should we get it, bring it here?”

The stream was closer to Will. He stepped back a few more feet. It looked black and shiny.

Will laughed. What a stupid idea, what a silly idea. Yeah. We’ll go pick up the head and try to put it back on.

Make Mikey as good as new.

His eyes stung. And Will wiped them. Why do my eyes sting? But he felt that they were wet. Wet, and when the trail ran down to his upper lip, he tasted the salt.

He turned away.

There were sirens. A few blocks away.

And when he turned away, he saw Tim. In the shadows with Kiff, pulling him aside, talking to him, whispering.

What’s going on? Will wondered. What the hell are they doing?

“Man, I don’t know,” Whalen said, still considering what he should do. “Maybe we should —”

Kiff shook his head. Will heard Tim raise his voice. His arm held Kiff, tall, lanky Kiff, close to Tim’s head.

Will took a step.

Tim looked up to him. Tim’s glasses caught some dull reflected light.

Maybe he thinks I’m responsible, Will thought. That I could have saved Narrio.

But I couldn’t, he thought.

I couldn’t.

More sirens. Louder, closer.

Tim walked over to him and Whalen.

While Kiff stayed in the shadows.

“It’s all worked out,” Tim said. His voice calm, in control.

Will sniffed. His nose was running. He wiped at it.

“What do you mean, ‘worked out’? What are you saying?”

Tim nodded. “It’s okay.”

“Okay?” Will laughed. “You gonna put Mikey back together again? You going to make him come back to life? What the hell do you — ?”

Will was screaming.

And Tim came up to him and grabbed Will’s jacket, his prep school blue blazer. Tim grabbed it hard and shook him.

“We’re
all
fucked if we stay here. You understand?
We’re all fucked
.”

Will was crying. Thinking: I want this over. I want this not to have happened. I want this to be yesterday, so I can decide not to do it. Please, God, please.

And he felt sick with himself because he didn’t care about Mike Narrio now, he just cared about himself, about his terrible feelings.

Tim plastered his face right in front of him. “We’ve got to get out of here. You understand — ?”

Will shook his head.

He understood nothing now. Nothing.

Tim backed away.

And said: “Kiff said he’ll stay. He’ll stay and say it was just him and Narrio. Just the fucking two of them. He’s suspended already. He’ll fucking do it, Dunnigan.”

Will looked over to Kiff, standing in the shadows.

“What?” he said.