Jenny Plague-Bringer(21)
Mr. Daniels stared at him for a second, then stood up, raising his fists. “Get out! Get out of my house!”
“Sir, you should know there are alien-abduction support groups—” Rudley began, before Mr. Daniels punched him in the mouth. The man threw a punch at the camera, too, and it blacked out.
The video skipped back to Rudley in his basement.
“Okay, well, that’s all the footage Beauford bothered to edit this week,” Rudley said. “Check this website again for future updates about our trip to Fallen Oak...where the alien visitors got a little too greedy for their own good, methinks!”
“No, please, no future updates,” Jenny said. “That was bad enough.”
“I know.” Seth closed the laptop. “What if other people, not I-have-a-webcam-show-in-my-basement types, start looking into it?”
“There’s still no reason to come looking for us,” Jenny said. “We died in the fire at your house, right? We’re dead.”
“Except we’re not.”
“Nobody knows that.”
“Plenty of people know it, Jenny.”
“Then what do you want me to do about it?” Jenny was surprised to hear herself scream. She made herself speak more calmly. “I mean, there’s nothing we can do.”
“I just thought you should know about it.”
“Now I know about it. Now what?” Jenny chewed her lip, worried. She grasped his hand in hers.
“We could make out,” Seth suggested.
“Maybe.”
“You could tell me what happened to us.”
“What do you mean?” she looked at him.
“The carnival, the tent revival. Did we get away? The last I heard, I’d done this really awesome thing, rescued you and carried you away on horseback, and it made you super-horny.”
“Maybe I should keep more of my thoughts to myself,” Jenny said.
“And then you ripped your dress in half for me.” Seth grinned.
“It wasn’t for you, it was for the horse.”
“Gross.”
“Do you want to hear the story or not, Seth?”
“I want to hear it. I like stories where I’m the hero.”
“Maybe I should stop where we were,” Jenny said, laying her head on his shoulder. “Things go downhill, just like all our lives.”
“Sounds promising. Too much happiness is boring, right? Make sure you talk more about how much I turned you on.”
Jenny took a deep breath and continued the story.
Chapter Seven
Juliana and her mysterious, sexy, handsome rescuer rode on through the night and the rain, Juliana holding him tight. After a long and cold lifetime without touching anyone, she couldn’t get enough of feeling his warm body through his wet shirt.
They followed a small stream westward from the Mississippi, staying in the wilderness. He finally stopped the horse in a meadow full of tall grass and wildflowers and climbed off. Juliana smiled as she let him help her down. The rain had slowed to a misty drizzle, and the horse soon found his way to a copse of trees, which protected him from the raindrops while he nibbled flowers.
The boy stood by the stream in his muddy boots and looked at the dark water glinting in the moonlight.
“Are we safe now?” she whispered.
“Maybe. The horse needs a break.”
“I don’t hear anyone.” Juliana could hear the gurgling of the stream, the pounding of her heart, and a cheeping chorus of night bugs, but no horse hooves. She looked at him, studying his handsome face, though it was shadowy under the moonlight. He had a familiar look to him, though she was sure she’d never seen him before today. “Why did you do that?”
“Horse was tired, like I said.”
“I wasn’t asking why you stopped. I was asking why you started.”
“Why I grabbed you and ran out? What else was I supposed to do?” he asked with half a smile. “Those people were ready to kill you, after hearing about the devil all day.”
“But you weren’t.”
“I think I might understand you better than most people.”
“You’re the one with the healing power, not the preacher,” Juliana said. “Why do you let everyone think it’s him?”
“I’m just the assistant. I don’t need everyone staring at me.” He winked, then held out his hand. “Let’s see it.”
“See what?”
“You know.”
Juliana cautiously let her take his hand, still not used to the idea of anyone touching her without suffering. He held it in his own, watching as she summoned the demon plague, letting dark blisters burst through her fingers and palm. He didn’t seem scared. Instead, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed each one of her fingertips, making the blisters disappear. The feeling of his lips on her fingers was almost too much to bear. She wanted to scream, or run away, or fling herself at him, so she just stood where she was, gaping at him like a fool while her whole body trembled.