Soulstice (20 page)

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Reggie. I’m worried about this. With what happened to Eben. The coughing and—”

“Not now, Aaron. Please?”

He nodded and draped a towel across her shoulders. They exited the freezer, and he held her as they moved slowly down the
hallway.

A silhouette appeard down the dimly lit corridor.

“Finals are over, you two. Congratulations, you both passed. And you, Reggie, earned an A for your extra credit work tonight.”

Mr. Machen flicked on the hallway lights. He held a handgun loosely at his side.

“What the hell?” Aaron shielded Reggie.

“Oh, God, Aaron. He’s one of them.” Reggie’s mind was fatigued beyond human capacity, and the shocking appearance of Machen
was more than she could bear. “In class—the one who gave me the vision—he’s a
Vour
.”

Aaron ran at Machen before he could raise the weapon. But the English teacher merely snatched hold of Aaron’s wrist and turned,
flipping the boy across the floor using his own momentum against him. Then he scratched his temple with the gun and shook
his head in disappointment.

“Please give me a little more credit. Would I really expose myself as a Vour after what you just did in that freezer?”

“Then who are you? A cop?”

“No, no. I operate outside of certain laws. Not much unlike another of your acquaintances.”

“Wait, you’re a Tracer?”

“Is anyone in this town who they say they are?” Aaron stood up and rubbed his wrist. “Is it something in the water or what?”

“We have a lot to talk about,” Machen continued. “But not here. Broken entry, butchered animals. Not very subtle. Follow me.”

“Why would we follow you?” Reggie asked.

Machen was already walking briskly toward the gymnasium. He wagged his gun in the air but did not turn around.

Aaron looked at Reggie. “He may have information about the solstice, Reg. We should hear him out.”

“Well I guess it’s a good thing I told my dad I was spending the night at your place.”

Aaron took Reggie’s hand again and pulled her down the hallway. Machen held open the door at the gym exit.

“Hurry. The police are out front arresting the Kassners.”

Reggie’s heart sank. So much for a brotherly reunion.

They slinked through the parking lot toward the woods behind the school. Blue and red lights pulsed against the high branches
and leaves, but Reggie tried to put the Kassners out of her mind. There was nothing to be done now.

Once clear of the school grounds, Machen turned on the flashlight Aaron had left behind and guided the two teens deep into
the grove. He had set up a small camp with a one-man tent amid the deep brush, an inconspicuous hideout he’d used to keep
an eye on the school.

“How did you know we’d come here?” Aaron asked.

“Your phone, Aaron. It’s tapped. Easier to tap cell phones than wires. Just ride the signal.”

“Like I’m not paranoid enough already.”

Reggie stalked over to Machen.

“So I’m here. Tell me what you can do to help, or pack up your crap house and get the hell out. I don’t care what sort of
secret anti-boogeyman organization you belong to—give me something I can use to destroy these things, or I’ll call the cops
myself and tell them there’s a pervert hiding out in the woods, spying on underage girls in cheering camp.”

Machen laughed.

“You don’t understand, Reggie. The Tracers thought they knew everything they needed to know. People turn into Vours, we find
them and eradicate them. Clean and simple. Our fraternity has been doing it for centuries. But now you’ve turned the whole
thing upside down. Cutter’s Wedge’s very own Puck.”

“What do you mean I’ve turned it all upside down?” Reggie asked. “I brought my brother back. And I saved Keech Kassner.”

“And your kind would have murdered them,” Aaron added.

“Not murder. Extermination.”

“Your way is no longer acceptable.” Reggie looked Machen straight in the eye. “No more murder.”

“I do what’s necessary.”

“Not anymore. I—”

“This isn’t just about
you
, Reggie. These monsters have destroyed lives, communities—entire civilizations. You have no idea what you are dealing with
here.”

“Who did you lose?” Reggie asked.

“I’m not here to—”

“A brother? A sister? Tell me.”

Machen stood silent. And when he finally spoke, it was without emotion. Like he’d moved beyond feeling.

“My wife. My sons. When the Vours found out that I had discovered their existence, they murdered everyone I loved.”

“I’m sorry.”

Machen paced, twigs snapping below his boots. “Did Eben tell you that he was discharged from the Tracers?”

“No. I didn’t even know you guys existed until a few hours ago,” said Reggie.

“Well, he was,” said Machen. “After he failed to kill your brother.”

“What?”
Aaron gasped.

Reggie said nothing.

“His job was to eliminate Vours. He should have taken out Henry, but he didn’t, so he was sacked. They sent me as his replacement.
Not to kill Henry,” Machen added hastily. “It appears your brother is recovered. But in addition to taking care of any threats,
my orders were to observe you and find out more about this power of yours. But the Vours lay low for six months, so I had
nothing. Not until last Friday, anyway.”

“So you knew what was happening in class,” said Reggie.

“What’s the point of telling us now?” Aaron asked.

“I saw something I never expected to see,” said Machen. “A Vourized human brought back. A Vour destroyed. We should be working
together, Reggie, don’t you see? We can help each other.”

“How’s that?”

“The Tracers have an extensive network. Lots of resources. And you have a singular perspective on how the Vours operate. Maybe,
working together, we can defeat them for good.”

Aaron pursed his lips and shrugged. “What do you know about the Vours and the summer solstice?” he asked.

Machen considered the question.

“Almost nothing. The Vours are usually quieter at the solstice—their hallucinatory powers are weaker this time of year, though
no one knows why. But they have been more active this summer.”

“Keen observation,” Reggie said dryly.

“We’ve had evidence suggesting the Vours are planning something big on the solstice,” Aaron said. “Think your ‘resources’
could look into it?”

“I’ll see what I can find out. In the meantime, keep quiet. No more breaking into buildings. I can’t help you if you get locked
up. As far as this town knows, I’m just an English teacher.” He handed Aaron his flashlight. “One question for you, Reggie.
Your vision in class. What did you see?”

“I saw my brother as a killer. My deepest fear.”

“Be careful, Reggie,” Machen said. “I doubt you know what your deepest fear really is. Your mind won’t let you. But these
monsters will try and find it. Don’t let them.”

  
17
  

Reggie was so sore and tired she didn’t want to get out of bed Sunday morning. Machen had driven around for an hour before
dropping them off, quizzing Reggie on everything she knew about the Vours, how she’d gotten her abilities, what fearscapes
were like, and tons of other questions, many of which Reggie had no clue about. He promised to report back to the Tracers
and find out what he could about a Vour solstice plot.

At noon Reggie went back to the hospital to see Eben, as she’d promised she would, but the doctors had put him on meds to
make him sleep.

“He had an epileptic fit this morning,” the nurse explained.

“Is he going to be okay?” Reggie asked.

“I can’t say, dear. But I’ll tell him you were here.”

That afternoon, Reggie picked up the phone at least a half dozen times with the intent to call Aaron and tell him about Quinn.
Keech was saved now; Aaron seemed to be recovering from his ordeal in prison. She shouldn’t keep such a secret from her best
friend, her confidant, her partner in all this madness. But each time, she put the phone back into its cradle without dialing.

What would she say to him? That she had already teamed up with the monster that had tried to kill him out on the lake, and
could he suck it up and fall in line, thanks very much?

There was something else. Reggie knew that Aaron would feel horribly betrayed, and rightfully so. He had always stood by her
no matter what, and now she was deliberately keeping him in the dark. She sensed the threads of her life spiraling out of
control, and guilt churned within her. She hadn’t meant for it to go this far. The anger, hurt, and jealousy Aaron would feel
when he found out—would he forgive her for what she’d done? Would he lose sight of the big picture and go after Quinn? Start
down a path that would undoubtedly lead to one of them ending up dead?

“Are you actually going to call someone, or are you just doing random checks for a dial tone?” Dad asked, walking into the
family room. “I paid the phone bill this month, I promise.”

Reggie looked up, startled. She smiled weakly and stood up.

“Oh, no, I was just thinking.”

“What about?”

“Just stuff.”

Dad nodded grimly. “Not about disappearing Tuesday morning before we go to Thornwood, I hope.”

“No, definitely not thinking about that. I’ll be here, Dad.”

“Good. I think you’ll get a lot out of it, Reg. Dr. Unger is a good guy.”

Or a sadistic fear monster
, Reggie thought.

Dad approached her curiously.

“What is that?” he asked. “You have a mark on your face.”

Reggie’s hand flew to her cheek. She’d forgotten all about the scar from the fearscape.

“And your hand—and your arms! Reggie, where did these bruises come from?”

“Oh, I—I fell. Off my bike. The roads were slick on my way back from the hospital—no biggie.”

“Okay.” Dad looked doubtful. “You know I’d want you to tell me if something was really wrong. No matter what it is.”

“I know,” Reggie replied.

Monday was Aaron’s day off, so they spent the time researching the amygdala theory. Reggie had told him it was something she
had been thinking about after studying for their biology final.

“Ha. I knew you were shitting me on that whole ‘I don’t do science’ thing. This is genius!” Aaron leaped at the concept that
Vours entered humans through their brains, as Reggie guessed he would, but by nightfall they had come up with nothing of particular
use.

Tuesday morning dawned sunny and humid, like the days before it. The drive to Thornwood was lined with pear trees in full
bloom, leafy explosions of white petals against the backdrop of green horse pastures. Reggie, Dad, and Henry had not spoken
since they’d all piled into the truck.

Reggie expected a cheerless, clinical structure, all white walls and steel. So when they rounded the final bend in the road
she was startled to see a beautiful white manor house surrounded by well-tended gardens and lawns. Other outbuildings, including
a barn and stables, were scattered over the property. It all looked much more like a country inn than a psychiatric institution,
and the idyllic setting only made Reggie that much more uneasy.

Dad parked the truck, and Henry hopped out to lead the way through the front door into the lobby. They were asked to wait
in a cozy den with overstuffed armchairs, candle sconces on the walls, and a fireplace. And when the nurse led them to Dr.
Unger’s office, it was not down white, sterilized corridors, but rather a wood-paneled hall decorated with black and white
photographs of local historical buildings. Reggie realized that, far from being a cold and sterile environment, Thornwood
seemed like a comfortable and pleasant home, certainly not a bastion of demonic mad scientists.

Dr. Unger sat behind a large oak desk in his office, an open and light-filled study lined with bookshelves and more photographs;
toys, art supplies, and children’s furniture were in one corner of the room. Reggie had seen him the previous week when he
had come to the elementary school, but she had not yet officially met him. He was an older man, with a mane of white hair
and wire glasses through which peered twinkling blue eyes. He had ruddy cheeks and a hooked nose, and he stooped a little
when he walked. He looked a bit like Santa in a white lab coat instead of red fur.