Chapter 10
Hospital cafeterias are blessedly quiet at night. Oz took a cup of coffee to one of the small tables there and rested, closing his eyes against the overhead light panels. Little waves of numbing warmth washed through his brain, lulling, lulling. The physical and emotional roller coaster of the past thirty-six hours was catching up with him, and he wanted nothing more now than to find a bed somewhere and curl up in it...
A woman's voice jerked him awake.
"Excuse me."
A girl was standing a few feet away from him, watching him nervously. Around his own age, he guessed; blonde, small, pretty - or would be if it weren't for the tense, pinched look on her face and the dark circles under her eyes. Her arms were crossed tightly across her stomach, as if she were trying to hold herself in one piece. The clothes she wore looked like they'd been wallowed in.
"You're Bobby's family, aren't you?" Her voice was thin and rushed, pushing the words out. "I saw you coming out of his mama's room. I called all the hospitals in the phone book and they said she was here. I heard the deputies say she lived in Phoenix."
"His name's Jordy." He stared at the young woman, finally recognizing her. "What are you doing here?"
"I have to tell you something. My sister and her friends broke out of jail last night. I don't know if you know that. You need to tell the police here so they can guard you. Rita may try to steal B- Jordy back."
Oz was on his feet in one fluid movement. The girl pressed on.
"I don't know if they're in a car. They know how to steal 'em. The cops may have picked them up by now...you need to call."
"I will." Shit. The nightmare was stirring to life again: Psycho Rednecks Part 2, starring the thing under the trailer. He pushed his chair back and started for the door to the lobby, when the girl called after him.
"Wait. There's something else."
She dropped her eyes to his feet, and furrowed her brow until she looked almost vampiric.
"You know about Jordy? How he gets sometimes - when the moon's full?"
She raised her head again. "They do it, too."
"They're werewolves." Oz said the words flatly. It made sense now. Lost pup in the wilderness, disoriented and frightened, tagging at the heels of a pack until it accepted him. The stuff Disney films were made of, if Disney didn't mind Bambi and Dumbo developing bloodlusts.
Maybe it wasn't Jordy who killed the hunter Thanksgiving Night, after all.
"Yeah. And they found him in this town, so they know to look for him here."
Oz shook his head in bewilderment. "Why do they want him so badly?"
"It's Rita. The others wouldn't care, but Rita wants him and Jeep - her husband - he likes Rita to be happy, and the other three go along with whatever Jeep and Rita want." She took a step closer. "We need to call."
Oz placed the receiver back onto the phone's cradle slowly. "They're loose."
The girl - Elsie-something - looked sickened but not surprised. Around them the hospital's night shift moved to and fro, in and out of the lobby, up and down the lifts. The little volunteer receptionist adjusted her glasses and began a new paperback.
"That was the captain. He said he could assign some officers to take turns staying with us at my uncle's house, but he thinks a safer bet might be for us to just get out of town for awhile. I think so, too. Can your sister morph whenever she wants to?"
ElsieSomething shook her head. "You mean change? I don't think so. I don't think any of them can; I mean, I've never seen them. They never told me they could. Just when the full moon's out."
"Good. That should buy us a little time."
"They'll follow you."
"I know a safe place. It's with people who are used to dealing with werewolves. I doubt that the Phoenix P.D. issues silver bullets." Oz's gazed turned to Elsie D. He studied her, taking in the rumpled clothes, unwashed hair, and haggard expression. "What about you? Where are you going to go?"
"I don't know. Away from here, too, I guess. I've got some money I been stashin' away for awhile."
"Where'll you stay tonight?"
"In my car."
She could be lying, of course. For all he knew she could be a werewolf herself. But she'd shown them where Jordy was, and if Rita & Co. could trail them by scent it would happen with or without the girl around.
"Look, if you want to come with us..." he said, finally. "They're sending an officer over here now to watch my aunt's room. You're welcome to stay, too. It won't be all that comfortable, but it can't be any worse than sleeping in your car."
"Okay." The death grip she held herself in slackened a little - a very little. "Okay."
The word came out like a sigh.
"Home again, home again." Fred flopped onto her back across the bed of the little teepee-shaped motel room. "Jiggedy-jig." The place had the odd, cool, plastic smell that sometimes manifests in clean rooms that have been closed and undisturbed for long periods. Without bothering to sit up, she shucked off her clothing down to her panties, tugged the covers back, and slid underneath them. "I sure am tired of driving."
Spike nodded in agreement. He made a trail of clothes from the door to the bed and arrived on his side of it with nothing left but a cigarette and an ashtray. He lit the cig with a matchbook from the bedside table, pushed his pillow against the headboard, leaned back against it, and took a long, lovely drag. As he smoked, he looked around the room thoughtfully.
"Wish I could give you a better home than this," he said. "Something with more than one room an' a loo. Proper kitchen, lots of closets, nice big fireplace..."
"My parents' house?"
"Somethin' like that, yeah." The end of the cigarette glowed and moved in the darkness like a lazy firefly.
"Spike, I lived in a cave for five years. I used to DREAM of having something as nice as this room. And even the cave would've been okay if you'd lived there with me. I used to get so lonely." In the shadows she found his free hand and held it to her face; pressed the rough pad of his thumb against her mouth. "You take good care of me."
His smile came quicksilver, tightened angles of his cheeks catching the pale windowlight as if they were mirrors. It wasn't many people could render him speechless, but this one - oh, this one had a knack for it, bowling him arse over tits and leaving a great pool of Happy in her wake. He moved her bedcovers down a bit and took a soft breast in his hand and massaged it slowly. Watched her eyelids droop and the tobacco smoke curl.
Jumped almost out of his skin when the phone rang.
"AAGH! Christ! What the hell?"
Fred pulled herself upright as they both fumbled for the screaming instrument, Spike almost losing the cigarette in the blankets. Fred located both simultaneously, taking care to stick the right one up to her ear.
"Hello? ...Oz?...Wait - Wait a minute, slow down."
Beside her Spike murmured, "Slow down? If OZ slowed down any more he'd decompose."
"Oh, my god...no, no, you're right...no, it's okay, of course you can; when are you leaving?...Have you still got our addresses?...Okay. Okay. Don't worry about it. I'm sure everything will be fine." She hung up the telephone and turned to Spike's questioning gaze.
"Break out Mama's sterling silver butter picks. Jordy's kidnappers are free-range werewolves."
Clothes, meds, and some favorite Christmas ornaments filled the trunks of the Osbourne family's two vehicles. The packing was done hurriedly, no one wanting to linger for fear of what might be watching them from the hedges and parked cars with spying, bestial eyes. Elsie D pulled up at the curb in front of Jordy's house, returning from a trip for gas at the convenience store two blocks away. Oz crossed the yard and leaned down to her opened driver's-side window. She'd cleaned up a little at the hospital, and pulled her hair back into a semblance of a ponytail. Her hands tightened and loosened, tightened and loosened on the steering wheel in a strained rhythm. Oz took in the enormous TV beside her.
"Didn't want to miss your shows?"
"I didn't know how long my money'd hold out. I brought it to sell if I need to. They'll give you about twenty or twenty-five dollars for them at the pawn shops." Her face was still rigid with tension. He noticed a newly-opened bottle of Maalox between her knees.
"Are you all right?"
She nodded and shut her eyes.
"Okay, then. Just follow us, and if we get separated you've got the directions and the map. If you need to stop, honk." He watched her for a moment. "You sure you're all right?"
"Yeah. I'm just tired." She looked up at him with round, pale eyes in a haunted face. "Thanks for letting me come."
"...You're welcome."