‘You do?’ He pushed on, determined to get through a list of things he’d prepared in his head. ‘I adore you, Tania, and I put you up there on a pedestal. But sometimes I don’t listen when things get tough for you. Like now.’
I nodded. ‘Tell me about Natalie,’ I said suddenly.
He blinked and jerked his head back. ‘Natalie?’
‘Yeah – gorgeous, funny, flirty Natalie.’
Orlando began to laugh then stopped himself. ‘Whoa!’
Screwing my eyes tight shut, I groaned. ‘I know. I shouldn’t have said that.’ What an idiot.
‘Natalie’s not my type. You are.’ Lots more kisses, lots of tender smiles.
Slowly we were hugging and talking ourselves into a good, safe space. I felt braver. ‘There’s this guy called Jarrold,’ I told him.
My God, it was like I’d flicked a switch. The smiles vanished.
I grabbed Orlando’s hand to stop him pulling away. ‘We’re being honest – yeah? He was one of the triathletes – the one who tried to save Conner Steben, remember?’
‘I know who he is. Don’t tell me – he was in your group when you did the stupid hike and almost got yourself killed.’
‘That “stupid hike” told me everything I needed to know about Antony Amos,’ I reminded him. ‘Now I know who my enemy is, and it’s not Jarrold, believe me.’
‘Yeah, just like it wasn’t Amos until a couple of days back.’
Our straight talking had run out of control. We were smack back into the paranoid blame-game. ‘Listen to me,’ I begged. ‘We’ve got to work together on this. It’s Holly we have to think about.’
‘So tell me about Jarrold,’ Orlando said, ignoring me and speaking through gritted teeth.
‘What do you want to know? His lousy parents dumped him with his grandparents when he was a little kid. His dad died. He got into bad shit, ended up at New Dawn.’
‘Not that,’ he said angrily. ‘What do I care about this guy’s life story? Come on, Tania – tell me what I need to know.’
I looked up at the sky and felt cold drops of rain on my face. ‘He’s on the run,’ I whispered. ‘He says he’s in love with me.’
My friend Grace found me in tiny, tear-stained pieces and scooped me up. She came when I called her, after Orlando had stormed out of the house. She drove me straight into town, to his parents’ place.
‘Man!’ she sighed. ‘As if we don’t have enough problems to solve!’
‘I know – I was stupid. I was trying to be honest.’
‘There’s honest and then there’s honest.’ She pulled into a McDonald’s drive-by to straighten me out. ‘Tania, you’re not stupid. Will you stop beating yourself up?’
I looked at her through teary eyes. ‘Orlando – what if I’ve lost him?’
‘Then you’ve lost him,’ she confirmed quietly. ‘And there’ll be a good reason for it to end. But until we know for sure, no post-mortems, huh?’
She drove on through town, through the cold rain.
There was no truck in the Nolans’ driveway, no sign of life in the small town house next to the wooden Baptist church on the corner of West Amherst Street and Independence Avenue.
I imagined Orlando storming away from Becker Hill, driving into the mountains, staying away all day.
‘You guys,’ Grace sighed, parking and tapping the wheel with her pearly-pink nails. ‘Did you get around to telling him about the party tomorrow night?’
I shook my head then tried my best to focus on something else. ‘Did Aaron hear from Holly?’
‘Negative.’
‘So how’s he doing?’
‘Jude is with him. That’s all I know.’
As we sat and talked, a couple of cars turned slowly into Orlando’s road then a cab dropped off a woman in the church parking lot. Three Harleys coasted along Independence Avenue. Their long-haired riders wore bandannas, fringed leather vests and T-shirts, even in the rain.
‘What?’ Grace asked when she saw me start at the sound of the engines then turn to look.
‘Jarrold got hold of a Harley,’ I muttered.
‘And now he’s stalking you?’
‘No. I don’t know.’ This was total misery – sitting in the rain waiting for Orlando to show up and tell me we were through.
At last his truck turned into West Amherst Street. It splashed through puddles, up on to his drive. As he opened his door, he spotted me sitting in the passenger seat of Grace’s car.
‘Go!’ She ordered me out. ‘I’m here if you need me.’
Orlando was on the sidewalk, heading our way. He was without a jacket and already soaking wet, looking wildly angry. Hardly knowing where I was, I stepped out to meet him.
‘What does this freaking guy mean, he loves you?’ he demanded. ‘How did he get to that?’
‘Don’t be mad.’
‘Give me a reason why not,’ he stormed. The drive hadn’t cooled his temper, but at least he wasn’t walking away. We both stood on the sidewalk, being rained on. ‘How long has he known you, Tania? Did you tell him about you and me? Really – how well does he know you?’
‘I did tell him about us, I said for him to leave. Listen, I only felt sorry for him – losing his parents, living how he did with his grandparents. And I knew it was tough for him at New Dawn.’
Orlando put up both hands as a shield. ‘I already told you I don’t want to hear that. I don’t care about any of that crap.’
‘Sorry.’ I nodded and fell silent. ‘Tell me what I can do to make this better?’
He closed his eyes, walked halfway up the drive and spoke from there. ‘I wasn’t the one who wanted us to be apart, remember.’
My heart sank as we went round in circles. ‘I didn’t want it,’ I told him. ‘You’re in Dallas, I’m in Europe. It’s the deal. It’s the way it is right now.’
‘I was here for you when your mom was ill.’
‘Don’t, Orlando. I can’t feel any more guilty than I already do.’
‘What exactly do you have to feel guilty about?’ He was striding down the slope towards me for what felt like a final showdown. ‘Jarrold says he loves you – big deal. You told him to back off. I hear you. But I still want to know – do you feel anything for him?’
The rain beat down and my whole world was shaking. A tidal wave of fear washed over me as my heart was squeezed and I grew short of breath. ‘I love you,’ I told Orlando. ‘No one else matters to me the way you do.’
I’m sinking down into the depths again, cold and alone amongst those church steeples with only ghosts from the past to keep me company.
Orlando stared at me through the rain. He blinked once then spoke in a flat, empty voice. ‘You’re soaking wet. Come inside the house.’
I don’t know how long we sat in his room and talked. Talking and talking – no touching, no hugging or kissing, but we got through the jealousy and blame and at last made everything OK. He loved me, I loved him. Nothing else mattered. Finally Grace knocked at the door to remind us she was still there. She told me later that she could tell in a nanosecond that the stress was over and that everything was good between Orlando and me.
She wanted to leave us together but we pulled her in, dried her off, sat her down and gave her coffee.
‘Thank you for being my friend,’ I told her.
‘Thank God I was in when you called me,’ she replied. ‘I should’ve already left for Melrose but I forgot the time.’
‘What’s in Melrose?’ Orlando asked. He sat next to me on the couch, leaning back exhausted as if he’d run a marathon.
‘My mom. She’s visiting my aunt. I planned to join them for supper.’
‘You’re hungry!’ I realized, looking at my watch and seeing that it was already five thirty.
‘No. I called a rain check. I want to hook up with Jude and Aaron instead. But before I leave, we need to talk about the party.’
‘Costumes?’ I asked.
‘And transport. Who’ll drive, how ma
ny cars and all that stuff.’
‘What party?’ Orlando interrupted before we could get any further.
Quickly we filled Orlando in on Holly’s situation and made him see how serious it was.
‘But the party – do we have to go?’ Orlando protested. ‘If this guy Jarrold is going to be there, I don’t want to know.’
‘He won’t be,’ I promised. Even if they called the cops and found him, no way would he be allowed to join the celebration.
‘Anyway, how else do we get to Holly?’ Grace pointed out. ‘Believe me, we’ve been through the options and this is the only choice we have.’
‘Plus, time is running out.’ I laid it on the line. ‘She met a guy called Channing and she thinks she’s in love. You know how the dark angels do it. They start by flattering their victims, making them feel special. Pretty soon it moves into brainwashing. Then they control every thought. That’s how it is with Holly. Now she won’t make a move without him. Her head’s totally gone. It’s tragic.’
‘Seriously,’ Grace agreed with a sigh. ‘Which is why Tania has to be right about Antony Amos. He’s definitely the force behind this.’
‘My dark angel,’ I whispered.
They both looked at me and waited for more. But the words settled into a silent room. Dark angel, stealer of souls, tormentor. Hideous creature who shape-shifts and dazzles, who leads his army through the dark heavens and plots his revenge. We didn’t need to say any of this out loud – Grace, Orlando or I. We all remembered it too well.
‘I’ll be there,’ Orlando promised in the end. We’d agreed details about the next night – Jude would drive Aaron and Grace to New Dawn, while I took my own car with Orlando to keep me company. He made his promise to stay by my side as he drove me home.
‘So how far would you go to rescue me?’ Keeping it light, I started to kid around. ‘Would you break a speed limit? Would you drive through a red light?’
‘All of that,’ he promised.
I upped the stakes. ‘Would you swim a white-water river?’
‘For sure.’ Turning up on to Becker Hill, Orlando got serious again. ‘But don’t rely on me to stay cool if this Jarrold guy does show up at the party.’
‘He won’t. I mean, there’s no way. Even if they catch him, Ziegler will slap another Outsider status on him.’
‘OK, so get some sleep.’ Orlando pulled up in my driveway behind Dad’s car. He kissed me briefly.
‘We’re cool?’ I checked.
He nodded and kissed me again. ‘Let’s get through tomorrow night. Once we grab Holly and get her out of there, we can relax.’
‘Totally,’ I murmured.
‘Promise?’
‘Back to normal.’ Mom getting better, me and Orlando loved up … I put all my energy into believing that everything would work out. ‘Sleep well.’ I sighed as I got out of the truck, stood in the headlight beam and blew him a kiss.
I went into the house, chatted with my dad, went into the studio and put some finishing touches to the party costumes.
At nine thirty Dad put his head around the door. ‘I’m pooped,’ he yawned.
‘So go to bed,’ I told him.
‘OK. Don’t stay up late.’
‘I won’t. Go!’
He yawned again then said goodnight.
For his sake I turned down the volume on my sound system, snipped and clipped some more, finally held my costume up and checked it out in a full-length mirror.
The suede skirt was long and fringed, the black tunic was knotted at one shoulder, leaving the other bare. I’d decorated it with white and red beads.
Gazing into the mirror, I heard a thousand voices on the wind.
‘My fathers are warriors,’ the woman with black, braided hair says. ‘My son is a warrior. And the Great Spirit rules us.’
I hear loss, I hear the cries of battle.
‘The land is ours, the air we breathe belongs to our people, the clouds above, the mountains below and the great lake at my feet.’
She stands alone in the mist.
I see men on horseback, soldiers with blue jackets. The riders wield tomahawks against rifles. The guns spark and fire. Her people lie dying.
She is alone, wrapped in a red shawl. She weeps.
I looked into the mirror and saw not mine but the woman’s reflection. I gasped and flung the costume to one side.
Music still played. Above the drumbeat I heard the sound of a motor bike. Or did I? Holding my breath, I went to the door, opened it and looked down the hill. The street was quiet.
It was time to turn off the studio lights and go to bed. There was a moment of total darkness and again I imagined the roar of Jarrold’s bike. But it wasn’t real, I insisted, convincing myself that after recent events I was even more easily spooked than normal. I headed upstairs to my room, where the bedside light was switched on.
I undressed, washed my face and rubbed in moisturizer, brushed my teeth. When I came out of the bathroom, the bulb was flickering – on-off, on-off. I sat on the bed to test the switch.
Click. Total darkness. Wolf man roars in through the window. He shatters glass, bursts out of the night, fills my room with his stench. His eyes glitter, he curls back his lips and shows his fangs.
He pounces and I fall back, feel the sting of his claws slashing and ripping into my flesh. I am in his arms, he bounds away. He carries me across mountains, leaps onto the island in the middle of the lake. I am lost.
14
Next morning, the day of the New Dawn party, I hurried to get dressed and leave the already empty house. Taking Orlando’s costume with me, I drove into town.
I’d reached the lights on the junction beside the McDonald’s drive-in where Grace had stopped the day before. It stood next to a Mexican restaurant whose shutters were down and a faded realtor’s For Sale notice hung off a post by the entrance. A rusted steel barrier kept cars out of the disused parking lot.
The whole place was deserted. You could picture tumbleweed blowing across the pitted tarmac, blues guitar, a long road through the desert.
The lights changed and I was about to drive on by when I saw the Harley in the disused parking lot, standing amongst the discarded plastic bags, empty Coke cans and weeds. I heard a vehicle come up fast from behind then I spotted Jarrold using his cell phone in the entrance to the disused restaurant. He glanced up, saw me and then, before I knew it, a Jeep had overtaken me. Quick as a flash, Jarrold saw the Jeep and ran from the doorway. He sprinted for his bike.
The Jeep swerved across the oncoming traffic. It crashed through the steel barrier, drove right at the Harley. Jarrold threw himself clear as the bike bounced off the car’s fender, skidded across the tarmac, into the building. Metal scraped, glass shattered but Jarrold was still on his feet, sprinting towards the traffic jam where I sat.
I saw now that it was Ziegler in his trademark hat at the wheel of the Jeep. Channing sat beside him, arms braced against the control panel.
‘Watch out!’ I yelled at Jarrold as they skidded and turned on two wheels.
Jarrold jumped the wrecked barrier, got to within ten strides of my car before Ziegler burst out of the parking lot and across the stream of traffic. Again he screeched to a halt and Channing jumped out. Car horns blared, a silver Ford inched forward and cut Jarrold off. Jarrold didn’t have chance to stop. Instead, he flung himself across the Ford’s hood, scrambled down and had almost made it to my car when Channing threw himself forward and pinned him to the ground.
People jumped out of their cars. Someone yelled to check the kid didn’t have a gun or a knife. A cab driver dialled nine-one-one.
Jarrold fought back. He kicked and rolled away from a punch that Channing was about to land, was almost up off the ground when Ziegler arrived and kicked him in the stomach. Jarrold groaned and fell back to the ground. Ziegler stamped on his arm, pinned him down and waited for Jarrold to stop resisting, for his body to go limp.
A crowd of fifteen to twenty people watched Zie
gler and Channing jerk Jarrold to his feet. The victim’s lip was swollen, there was a cut oozing blood under his left eye. He raised his head as his captors led him away. He looked right at me.
What did I see in his eyes? What was he trying to tell me as they dragged him into the New Dawn Jeep?
I didn’t have time to decide. They were in the car, reversing into the empty lot, out again on to the highway and speeding away even before the cops arrived.
‘You just missed him,’ Orlando’s mom, Carly, told me when I finally arrived at West Amherst Street. ‘Are you OK, Tania? Would you like a drink of water?’
‘No, I’m cool, thanks.’
‘You look a little pale. Are you sure you don’t need a drink?’
‘Where did Orlando go?’
‘To the mall – the book shop, I think. Tania, you’re shivering.’
‘I’m good.’ Hurrying back to my car, I set off after Orlando. Stay calm, I told myself. Don’t overreact – Ziegler was only doing his job.
I remembered how he’d crunched Jarrold’s Harley against the wall, the cold, cruel look in his blue eyes when he’d stamped on Jarrold’s arm as he lay on the tarmac. Ziegler wasn’t a guy to show mercy, I realized.
And now Jarrold was back at New Dawn, a prisoner again.
‘It’s a good thing,’ Grace insisted when I called her en route to the mall. ‘Your psycho stalker/potential dark angel is safely off the scene.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘No buts, Tania. Forget Jarrold, focus on Holly – OK?’
It was good advice and I tried as usual to follow it, tracking down Orlando’s truck parked outside the book shop and going into the store to find him in the theatre history section. He was standing by the early twentieth-century shelves, thumbing through a book on Diaghilev. I kissed him and tried to act as if nothing had happened.
‘What’s wrong?’ he said straight away. I swear, when it comes to picking up signals about my mindset, he has my kind of super-sensitivity. I guess that’s what having a soul mate is all about.