it, Dad, Brenda thought. And you’re not going to do it alone. I don’t know where that Dog went, but I’m here, and I’ll just …
She rose to her feet, and walked out from behind the concrete pillar. Somehow she felt completely confident that whatever the strange man wanted, she was relatively safe. After all, she wasn’t one of the Thirteen; she was only the daughter of the Rat.
And he didn’t hurt Albert Yu, at least I don’t think he did, not physically. So I’ll just provide a distraction for Dad.
Brenda shot a quick glance over at Dad, and thought the man within the rat was trying to warn her back.
Don’t worry, Dad. I’m fine. Just do your thing.
“Wow,” Brenda said, weaving a little. “Is there an after-hours costume party going on around here? You look just marvelous. Maybe you need a date? I’ve got a Chinese top. I mean, it’s sort of Chinese. I got it at a department store, but would it do?”
She was unzipping her jacket as she moved, acting a little drunk. The Chinese man reacted for the first time, turning his head to look in her direction. He was younger than she had thought, and drop-dead gorgeous. His eyes were dark and mysterious, and he had the most sensuous mouth she’d ever seen. Suddenly, it wasn’t at all hard to act unsteady on her feet.
“My dad was here, and his friend, but you look like a lot more fun. I wonder where they went?”
Brenda let her voice go a bit high, like she was musing aloud, and moved a few steps closer. The Chinese man removed his hands from his sleeves. His right hand held what looked like a long strip of very heavy paper, or maybe lightweight cardboard, ornamented with Chinese writing, green ink against black paper. The writing seemed to glow, the last glimmer of thought against a night-dark sky.
“You can see me? How can you see me?”
The young man spoke perfect English, but with a music Brenda had never heard before.
“I can see you, honey,” she said. “No problem.”
“You should not be able to see me.” He started moving away from her, sliding alongside the car. “That cannot be. Only thirteen should be able to see me, and you are not one of them.”
“I can see you,” Brenda repeated, wondering where her dad was, what had happened to Riprap. Should she just tackle this guy? It didn’t sound like a completely bad idea. Looking at him made her tingle.
What is wrong with me? Maybe that milkshake was spiked.
The Chinese man had reached the front of the car and was pivoting, apparently getting ready to run. As he turned, Gaheris Morris stepped out from behind a pillar. The mist was gone, but Brenda thought she could see traces of it clinging to him.
“Hold on, young man,” Gaheris said. “I want to talk to you.”
“Me, too,” came Riprap’s voice. He stepped out and blocked the young man’s forward escape route. “I’m wondering where you got those threads. They’re cool.”
The young man’s expression changed. All traces of nervousness left him. He went from stillness to motion without a hint of transition, charging directly toward Gaheris Morris. He flung out his right hand, and the piece of paper flew from his fingers, cutting through the air like a knife blade.
Brenda screamed as it wrapped itself around her dad’s face, covering his left eye, the bridge of his nose, sealing one corner of his mouth.
The Chinese man continued his forward motion, and Brenda thought she saw him touch her dad with something small and round, but she couldn’t be sure. Too much was happening. She kept expecting her dad to reach up and rip the paper off his face, but he just stood there. Then the paper started sinking, melting into the flesh of Gaheris Morris’s face.
Brenda stifled another scream with her clenched fist and ran forward, not knowing whether to grab the Chinese man, or to root out whatever it was that was burying itself in her father’s face. She managed to do neither. Although she crossed the
She rose to her feet, and walked out from behind the concrete pillar. Somehow she felt completely confident that whatever the strange man wanted, she was relatively safe. After all, she wasn’t one of the Thirteen; she was only the daughter of the Rat.
And he didn’t hurt Albert Yu, at least I don’t think he did, not physically. So I’ll just provide a distraction for Dad.
Brenda shot a quick glance over at Dad, and thought the man within the rat was trying to warn her back.
Don’t worry, Dad. I’m fine. Just do your thing.
“Wow,” Brenda said, weaving a little. “Is there an after-hours costume party going on around here? You look just marvelous. Maybe you need a date? I’ve got a Chinese top. I mean, it’s sort of Chinese. I got it at a department store, but would it do?”
She was unzipping her jacket as she moved, acting a little drunk. The Chinese man reacted for the first time, turning his head to look in her direction. He was younger than she had thought, and drop-dead gorgeous. His eyes were dark and mysterious, and he had the most sensuous mouth she’d ever seen. Suddenly, it wasn’t at all hard to act unsteady on her feet.
“My dad was here, and his friend, but you look like a lot more fun. I wonder where they went?”
Brenda let her voice go a bit high, like she was musing aloud, and moved a few steps closer. The Chinese man removed his hands from his sleeves. His right hand held what looked like a long strip of very heavy paper, or maybe lightweight cardboard, ornamented with Chinese writing, green ink against black paper. The writing seemed to glow, the last glimmer of thought against a night-dark sky.
“You can see me? How can you see me?”
The young man spoke perfect English, but with a music Brenda had never heard before.
“I can see you, honey,” she said. “No problem.”
“You should not be able to see me.” He started moving away from her, sliding alongside the car. “That cannot be. Only thirteen should be able to see me, and you are not one of them.”
“I can see you,” Brenda repeated, wondering where her dad was, what had happened to Riprap. Should she just tackle this guy? It didn’t sound like a completely bad idea. Looking at him made her tingle.
What is wrong with me? Maybe that milkshake was spiked.
The Chinese man had reached the front of the car and was pivoting, apparently getting ready to run. As he turned, Gaheris Morris stepped out from behind a pillar. The mist was gone, but Brenda thought she could see traces of it clinging to him.
“Hold on, young man,” Gaheris said. “I want to talk to you.”
“Me, too,” came Riprap’s voice. He stepped out and blocked the young man’s forward escape route. “I’m wondering where you got those threads. They’re cool.”
The young man’s expression changed. All traces of nervousness left him. He went from stillness to motion without a hint of transition, charging directly toward Gaheris Morris. He flung out his right hand, and the piece of paper flew from his fingers, cutting through the air like a knife blade.
Brenda screamed as it wrapped itself around her dad’s face, covering his left eye, the bridge of his nose, sealing one corner of his mouth.
The Chinese man continued his forward motion, and Brenda thought she saw him touch her dad with something small and round, but she couldn’t be sure. Too much was happening. She kept expecting her dad to reach up and rip the paper off his face, but he just stood there. Then the paper started sinking, melting into the flesh of Gaheris Morris’s face.
Brenda stifled another scream with her clenched fist and ran forward, not knowing whether to grab the Chinese man, or to root out whatever it was that was burying itself in her father’s face. She managed to do neither. Although she crossed the
Similar Books
