Free Coven by David Barnett Page B

escaping, but she hadn’t
escaped, had she? She’d made it to the car, but before she could
drive away—
    There’d been someone in the car, hadn’t
there?
    Someone waiting.
    The woman, Penelope remembered.
    Something clicked, a snap like a tiny bone.
Then the rest of the memories siphoned back into her head.
    — Hello, Penelope, the woman said.
    “ How do you know my…” but
Penelope’s words languished. Her hand never turned the ignition.
The woman was looking at her now, and all Penelope could do was
look back.
    — You can help
us.
    The woman was dressed in black, a black cape
with a hood. The hood made the woman’s face hard to see. Oddest of
all, she wore sunglasses in spite of the night.
    — Don’t be afraid. I want
to be your friend.
    Within the drooping hood, details of the
woman’s face seemed to shift beneath a fine blur. Her skin was
vibrant white, bloodless.
    Penelope didn’t understand anything now.
There was only this. “What do you want?” she peeped.
    — We want you.
    At once Penelope was drowning in her whole
life. Tears came. All she ever wanted was to be cared about, to
be…wanted.
    The woman’s luminous smile
eased close. —You’re very special,
Penelope. I can show you how special you are.
    It was something like credence, an awareness
rather than a conclusion. It would be wonderful to be special, to
be loved.
    — Love.
    The woman touched Penelope’s cheek. The warm
hand seemed to seal the promise of trust.
    — I’ll protect you, the woman in black promised. —I have something to give you,
something you’ve never had before.
    Penelope’s whole world now was the woman’s
touch. The warm white hand began to probe her breasts. The
sensation was delicious. But what had the woman said? Something to
give her?
    — Destiny.
    “ Wh what?”
    — I can show you destiny,
Penelope. I can show you love.
    “ Show me,” Penelope
moaned.
    The woman’s blurred face hovered close. The
scarlet lips parted. The mouth opened wide, full of teeth like a
dog’s.

    ««—»»

    Tom poured the Spatens with the exactitude
of a master. “We’ll give Jervis an hour. If he doesn’t show, we’ll
split.”
    Wade nodded. No one could remember seeing
Jervis all day. Wade had a bad feeling.
    “ You’re worried about him,”
Tom commented. “You don’t believe he’s over this Sarah thing even
though he said he was.”
    “ Well…”
    “ You think he’s gonna lose
it, shoot himself, or climb to the top of the WHPL tower and do a
double gainer.”
    Could he picture it? “It’s just not like him
to disappear.”
    Was he being unreasonable? He couldn’t cast
off the gut feeling, the presage that Jervis’ emotions were too
rampant for his selfhood. How close was he, really, to cracking
up?
    “ Hey, Wade. Here’s an old
one.”
    “ Please,” Wade pleaded.
“I’m in no mood for conservative jokes.”
    “ What do Carter and the
North Virginia Amtrak have in common?”
    “ I’d really rather
not—”
    “ They both pull out of
Rosalynn at five A.M. sharp.
    Wade shook his head. Tom’s jokes were like a
Kirby vacuum cleaner: they sucked.
    The inn was packed. They sipped their
Spatens like wine poseurs. Beer snobbery was an intricate art. No
Bud for these two. Then Wade said, “Wouldn’t it be a riot if Jervis
was here and Sarah walked in?”
    Tom glanced behind him. “You psychic?” he
asked when he saw who was side traipsing through.
    Sarah Black emerged from the wall of backs
and heads, her eyes thinned as if in some harsh assessment. She
wore purple high heels, blue leather pants, and a clinging blouse
the color of arterial blood. Very short platinum blond hair
fit against her head like a flier’s cap.
    “ Hey, Sarah!” Wade called
out. “How’s it going?”
    “ Don’t,” Tom warned. “Don’t
start a scene.”
    “ How are things in the
she devil business?” Wade asked. “Good?”
    She gauged him without reaction.
    “ That was really classy the
way you dumped