about to open his door to pull Dave in, when suddenly they all heard it.
The voice from under the car.
“Davy baby,” Billy Dunne’s voice rasped. “Sweetie, come to Daddy. You know you love me, Davy, all hidden away inside you. I love you, too, we can love each other here, down here.”
“What in God’s name?” Dave said, still crouching.
“Don’t let him in, Josh,” Tammy spat. “Let it happen to him. Let it. Maybe bad people get what’s coming to them.”
“Shut up,” Bronwyn said. “Just shut up.”
“Dave! Get in this car right now! There’s some kind of . . . some . . . that thing. That thing from the gas station. It’s there. It’s alive. It’s . . .” But even as Josh said this, he knew it was too late.
He looked out his window to see Dave, still crouching, glance up at him, his eyes wide with an emotion between fear and awe. Dave began stammering, and pointing underneath the car. It seemed to happen in slow motion, as Dave pointed and looked at Josh and his mouth began moving as if trying to get something out.
And then Scratch leapt out from beneath the car, its black hooks going to Dave’s eyes. In the car, everyone was screaming, and Josh reached on the floor for the gun hoping it would help. He tried to get his door open, but it was locked. By the time he reached around for the lock, Dave’s face had smushed up against Bronwyn’s window. The two women screamed again as Dave’s bloody face slid down the window to the ground.
Josh locked his door, rolled up his window.
And they waited. It was quiet for a long time.
The headlights from the pickup truck illuminated them as if it were nearly daylight.
They heard a thump or two beneath the car.
Tammy began praying softly, her hands pressed together, her eyes closed. Josh glanced at Bronwyn, but neither said anything.
They saw something come out from under the front of the car that sent shivers down Josh’s spine.
The creature emerged in the headlight’s beam. Billy Dunne’s face over its skull, his lips torn and flapping. It began a strange, slow dance that reminded Josh of an image he’d seen of Kali, the Indian goddess, who danced with skulls around her neck. The creature’s arms went out at odd angles, and its legs moved around in wide arcs.
It’s doing its dance,
Josh thought.
This is its ceremony. It drinks the blood and wears the skin. It dances in the skin. It makes the sacrifice dance for the gods.
Josh felt Bronwyn’s hand on his shoulder. It felt good, in the face of this. He needed her warmth.
They watched the strange, intricate, bizarre dance as the bloodied creature wearing the tissue-thin skin of either Billy Dunne or Dave Olshaker moved to the unheard music.
Then it stopped.
It’s watching us. It’s waiting for us. Why? What is it waiting for?
A sound came from it. Not Dave’s voice or Billy’s voice or Griff’s or even Ziggy’s.
It was a sound that seemed more wild animal than human, yet it had a human cast to it. The creature began singing, raising its skin-hung arms skyward.
“Dear God,” Tammy gasped. “Dear God.”
The creature sang a tuneless melody that consisted of mainly open vowel sounds of
ohs
and
ows
, a slightly musical howl and shriek, but Josh was sure it was saying something.
“Why is it doing that?” Bronwyn asked—as if any of them would know.
“It has a ceremony to fulfill,” Josh said. “A ritual. It dances in their skins, and then it sings to its namesake god. That’s what it said at the Brakedown Palace. On the signs. There’s the sacrifice, then there’s the ceremony.”
Even as he said this, Josh thought he heard the god’s name in the song,
Xipe Totec, Xipe Totec
.
What is it for? Why does it do this?
For the first time, Josh wondered whether there wasn’t some insane logic to the creature’s ritual. It wasn’t just a monster from nowhere. It had been stolen from its resting place, somewhere in Mexico. It had been wrenched from its burial ground and
The voice from under the car.
“Davy baby,” Billy Dunne’s voice rasped. “Sweetie, come to Daddy. You know you love me, Davy, all hidden away inside you. I love you, too, we can love each other here, down here.”
“What in God’s name?” Dave said, still crouching.
“Don’t let him in, Josh,” Tammy spat. “Let it happen to him. Let it. Maybe bad people get what’s coming to them.”
“Shut up,” Bronwyn said. “Just shut up.”
“Dave! Get in this car right now! There’s some kind of . . . some . . . that thing. That thing from the gas station. It’s there. It’s alive. It’s . . .” But even as Josh said this, he knew it was too late.
He looked out his window to see Dave, still crouching, glance up at him, his eyes wide with an emotion between fear and awe. Dave began stammering, and pointing underneath the car. It seemed to happen in slow motion, as Dave pointed and looked at Josh and his mouth began moving as if trying to get something out.
And then Scratch leapt out from beneath the car, its black hooks going to Dave’s eyes. In the car, everyone was screaming, and Josh reached on the floor for the gun hoping it would help. He tried to get his door open, but it was locked. By the time he reached around for the lock, Dave’s face had smushed up against Bronwyn’s window. The two women screamed again as Dave’s bloody face slid down the window to the ground.
Josh locked his door, rolled up his window.
And they waited. It was quiet for a long time.
The headlights from the pickup truck illuminated them as if it were nearly daylight.
They heard a thump or two beneath the car.
Tammy began praying softly, her hands pressed together, her eyes closed. Josh glanced at Bronwyn, but neither said anything.
They saw something come out from under the front of the car that sent shivers down Josh’s spine.
The creature emerged in the headlight’s beam. Billy Dunne’s face over its skull, his lips torn and flapping. It began a strange, slow dance that reminded Josh of an image he’d seen of Kali, the Indian goddess, who danced with skulls around her neck. The creature’s arms went out at odd angles, and its legs moved around in wide arcs.
It’s doing its dance,
Josh thought.
This is its ceremony. It drinks the blood and wears the skin. It dances in the skin. It makes the sacrifice dance for the gods.
Josh felt Bronwyn’s hand on his shoulder. It felt good, in the face of this. He needed her warmth.
They watched the strange, intricate, bizarre dance as the bloodied creature wearing the tissue-thin skin of either Billy Dunne or Dave Olshaker moved to the unheard music.
Then it stopped.
It’s watching us. It’s waiting for us. Why? What is it waiting for?
A sound came from it. Not Dave’s voice or Billy’s voice or Griff’s or even Ziggy’s.
It was a sound that seemed more wild animal than human, yet it had a human cast to it. The creature began singing, raising its skin-hung arms skyward.
“Dear God,” Tammy gasped. “Dear God.”
The creature sang a tuneless melody that consisted of mainly open vowel sounds of
ohs
and
ows
, a slightly musical howl and shriek, but Josh was sure it was saying something.
“Why is it doing that?” Bronwyn asked—as if any of them would know.
“It has a ceremony to fulfill,” Josh said. “A ritual. It dances in their skins, and then it sings to its namesake god. That’s what it said at the Brakedown Palace. On the signs. There’s the sacrifice, then there’s the ceremony.”
Even as he said this, Josh thought he heard the god’s name in the song,
Xipe Totec, Xipe Totec
.
What is it for? Why does it do this?
For the first time, Josh wondered whether there wasn’t some insane logic to the creature’s ritual. It wasn’t just a monster from nowhere. It had been stolen from its resting place, somewhere in Mexico. It had been wrenched from its burial ground and
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