Cries of the Children(88)

The woman grinned. “How romantic! I’m afraid I don’t know where Haybrook’s is located, but I’ve heard of it. I could make some phone calls.”

“Oh, I’d really appreciate that,” Barbara said.

“Why don’t you come back in an hour or so?” the woman suggested. “I should have some information by then.”

“I’ll do that,” Barbara said.

She left the travel agency, then walked out of the hotel. Glancing at her watch, she estimated she had more than five hours before Samantha arrived. She hoped she would have some information to give her friend regarding Julie’s whereabouts.

And at the same time, she hoped the clue would lead her to some answers of her own.

Julie had begun her journey in a southerly direction, based on the sensations she was picking up. Sometimes they weakened, but when they grew strong again she would change course accordingly. She wished she could take a train or a bus, but moving on foot was the only way she could keep track of any changes in feeling.

She moved along the Parkway, keeping well hidden in the trees that grew alongside the road. Whenever she’d come to an exit or entrance ramp, she’d hide until she was certain she could make it across without being seen. It slowed her down, but she couldn’t afford to arouse the curiosity of passing motorists.

Julie wondered who was sending out the emotions she was reading in her mind. Was it the other children, waiting for her? She wondered if they were in Atlantic City, as Marty had planned originally. Or had they moved on? How long would it take her to find them?

She was hiding in the bushes near an exit ramp when Marty spoke in her mind. His voice was so clear that she gasped, thinking someone had caught her.

It’s all right, Julie. The others are waiting for you, but you’ll never get there if you walk.

How do you expect me to find them? Julie’s tone reflected her annoyance. She was exhausted, her feet burning inside her sneakers. I can only follow what I sense.

You can listen to me. I’ll tell you where they are.

Why didn’t you tell me before I walked a zillion miles? Where’ve you been, anyway?

Marty did not answer her question.

Julie, two more of us are waiting in a town called Westbrook. If you move on to the exit, you can walk up it into a little town called Rockling. You can take a train there to Westbrook, and you’ll arrive in just over an hour’s time.

Why not Atlantic City? What happened there?

There were . . . problems. But Lorraine and I fixed them.

Lorraine?

One of us. The youngest of our group, but with strong powers.

Julie saw a chance to get across the exit. She ran as fast as she could, half-expecting to hear the sirens of a state trooper’s car. She made it to the other side and began to move along behind the trees.

Marty, when am I going to learn who I really am?

But once again Marty was silent.





42


RACHEL AND ERIC had marked off two towns on their list; they had been told that no little boy had gotten off at those stations. Now Eric drove along the Garden State Parkway in silence, knowing that Rachel would speak when she was ready. It seemed she was asleep, with her head pressed back against the cushion behind it. But the tension in her features told him she was still trying to contact Steven. He still wasn’t quite sure about all this supernatural business, but she hadn’t been wrong yet.

When she spoke, her voice seemed unusually loud over the quiet hum of the motor. She didn’t open her eyes.

“What are we going to do when we find Steven?”

“Take him home, of course,” Eric said. “And when we get back, I’m going to raise hell with Children’s Services. I don’t think they’re making enough effort in finding that child’s parents.”

Rachel sat up now and started to play with her hands, long café-au-lait fingers tipped with pink-polished nails.

“Eric,” she said.

“What is it?”

“Eric, I don’t think Steven has a family,” Rachel said. “I don’t think he has anyone but us.”

Eric sighed. He checked his mirrors and changed lanes.

“Rachel, I know how much you want to believe that,” he said, “but sooner or later you’re going to have to face reality. Steven’s memory will come back to him, and he’ll know who his family is. Whoever they are, they haven’t tried very hard to find him. And I condemn them for that. Maybe they aren’t fit parents. Maybe they don’t want him, but—”

“I want him!” Rachel cried.

“I know that,” Eric said gently. “But maybe you can’t have him.”

Rachel turned to stare out the window at the passing scenery. Tears began to well in her eyes, but she brushed them away. She tried to concentrate on the trees, to push away painful emotions. Anyone else riding along the highway would not have noticed the fine details surrounding her. But Rachel was focused, and she could name almost every tree. The highway was a vast stretch of green.