“What do you mean, it isn’t there? You had it five minutes ago!”
“I know I did, Donny! But it’s gone! Someone must have stolen it!”
Lorraine looked back over her shoulder to see a young couple, no older than seventeen, standing nearby. The girl’s long red hair was hanging down around the purse she had opened on her lap. Her hands moved quickly through it, shoving things out of the way. Her boyfriend leaned close, looking inside himself. Lorraine watched as the girl shook her head. She looked up at the boy with tears filling her green eyes.
“It’s gone, Donny! What’ll we do?”
Donny threw up his arms, his denim jacket coming open to reveal an Ozzy Ozborne T-shirt.
“Oh, this screws us up royally, Sandy! You know we were goin’ down to Atlantic City to apply for work! You know we wanted to beat the summer rush!”
Lorraine immediately realized what had happened. No one had stolen the girl’s ticket. Somehow, Marty had made it disappear. She tried to call him in her mind, but he was gone again. Taking a deep breath for courage, she got out of the line and walked over to the teenagers.
“Hello,” she said uncertainly.
The boy snarled at her. The girl gave her a weary half-smile.
“I heard what you said,” Lorraine went on. “Uhm, if you can do me a favor I can buy you another ticket.”
“Oh, right . . .” the boy said doubtfully.
The girl shushed him.
“What do you mean, kid?” she asked.
Lorraine rubbed the back of one leg with the front of her sneaker.
“Well, see, I’m going to . . . Atlantic City too,” she explained. “But I don’t think they’re going to let me on the bus by myself.”
Sandy nodded in agreement.
“But if you say you’re my sister,” Lorraine went on, “then we can go together and no one will say anything.”
“Gee, I don’t know,” Sandy said. “You’re really young. We could get in trouble.”
“How?”
“Well, if someone starts asking questions . . .”
“We’ll say we’re on our way to our father’s house,” Lorraine said. “Our parents are divorced, and Daddy is a . . .”
“He works in one of the casinos,” Sandy offered, warming up to the idea. Her eyes sparkled.
Donny snorted. “Forget it, kid. We don’t need any hassles.”
“You want to get to Atlantic City, or don’t you?” Lorraine snapped. She didn’t see any other way to solve her own problems, and she wasn’t going to “forget it.”
Sandy leaned over and whispered something in the boy’s ear. Then she looked at Lorraine.
“Are you running away from home?”
Lorraine shook her head. “Are you? I won’t ask questions if you won’t. It’s too hard to explain, okay? You just gotta trust me.”
“Trust a five-year-old?” Donny said.
“I’m eight,” Lorraine lied with a glare in her gray-green eyes. “I’m just little. Come on, the bus leaves in half an hour. Do you want a ticket or don’t you?”
“Donny, please . . .”
“All right!” Donny cried. “I give up. Go on and get your tickets, kid.”
Lorraine grinned in triumph.
“Wait,” Donny said. “Sandy, you go with her. It’ll look better that way.”
Playing the big-sister role to the hilt, Sandy took Lorraine by the hand and walked up to the line. The ticket man hardly glanced twice at them as they purchased two bus tickets. Sandy returned to where Donny was waiting and waved the ticket triumphantly.
“We’ll be there in about two hours,” she said.
“Let’s get going,” Donny replied. “We want a seat together.”
He regarded the small child who still held fast to Sandy’s hand.
“All of us,” he said. “I don’t know what you’re up to, kid, but thanks.”
Fifteen minutes later they were boarding the bus. As she was about to walk through the door, something made Lorraine turn and look behind her. Intelligent as she was, she could never have explained the feeling. Perhaps the closest analogy would be the feeling a gazelle might have when the lion is close behind.
Lorraine sensed danger.
She stopped and turned.
“What’s wrong, kid?” Donny asked. “Go on . . .”
Lorraine didn’t hear him. She was staring through the crowd of people, into a pair of dark and familiar eyes. The stranger had caught up to her.
Joe Trefíll locked eyes with his quarry. Then he began to run, one hand reaching out, ready to grab the child.
23
IN ONE OF his dreams that night, Steven found himself standing in a timberland of tall leafless trees. The trunks and branches were so gnarled they seemed to take on the qualities of facial features. If Steven had understood the concept of animism, he would have believed it existed in this dream forest. He walked without fear among the trees. They were powerful beings, but benevolent ones. He reached toward one particularly old tree, wanting to draw courage from the antiquity of it.