Josiah shook his head. “Again, not an option that I favor. I’m disinclined to leave a place I’ve known for so long as home. It’s more mine than theirs, Danny, more mine than theirs.”
Danny tilted his head and squinted at him. “Why you talking like that?”
“Way I always talk.”
“No, it’s not.”
Josiah shrugged. “Well, you never know how a man might progress, Danny, in conversation and conduct.”
“I got no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Here’s all you need to know—they aren’t going to take me from this valley again, aren’t going to take me from my home.”
“Again?”
“My blood kin, Danny. Campbell.”
“Campbell? What the hell? The man’s been dead for eighty years! You’d never have so much as known his name if it weren’t for Grandpa.”
“And there’s the dilemma, Danny, my boy. Isn’t hardly anybody remembers his name anymore, and those that do, well, they got no word but a harsh word. In his time, Campbell did plenty for these people. Why’s the man faulted just for having some ambition? Can you answer that?”
“He ran out on his family. What are you talking about, ambition?”
“That’s the thing—weren’t his choice to leave. He never had a mind to go.”
Danny stared at him. Out beyond the barn, the dark trees were starting to weave again in a mild breeze.
“Why you using that voice?”
“Only one I got.”
“Don’t sound normal. Don’t sound anything like you.”
“Boy, you are one critical son of a bitch today, aren’t you? Pardon my voice, Danny, pardon my manner of speaking, and pardon my occasional desire to spit. Sorry such qualities don’t find your favor this evening.”
“Whatever, man.”
“You had enough of helping me? Going to leave me to handle this on my own?”
“I didn’t say that. I just don’t understand what I’m supposed to do that can help.”
“Good thing I do, then. I got a real clear sense of your role, Danny, and it won’t be a difficult task. All I’ll require now is that you go on down to the gas station and buy two of those prepaid cell phones. I have some cash for you to use. Bring them back up here. I’ll wait before I make my call. Seems like the sort of call you make in the middle of the night.”
* * *
The pain held off until evening. Eric lingered with Kellen at the bar, drank a few more beers and even ate a meal and felt fine through all of it, actually had himself thinking maybe it was done.
It wasn’t.
The first headache came about an hour after he’d eaten. The nausea settled in soon after the headache, and when he looked up at the bartender and saw the vertical hold go again, that rapid shuddering of the scene in front of him, Eric knew it was time to go.
“Feeling bad again?” Kellen said when Eric got to his feet.
“Not great. Probably just need to lie down.”
He wasn’t sure why he said that; they both knew it was bullshit.
“You want me to hang around or…”
Eric shook his head. “No, no. You don’t need to worry about it, man. If it gets bad, I’ll do what I’ve got to do.”
“And see what you have to see,” Kellen said, face grave, studying him. He put out his hand. “All right, my man. Good luck to you. And I’ll be in town tonight. So anything gets away from you…”
“I’ll be fine. Guarantee it. By the time we talk tomorrow, you’ll see.”
There was an odd ghosting to the door as he walked out of the bar, a hint of double vision returning, and the lights in the hallway burned in his skull, but somehow neither occurrence struck quite the same the chord of fear that it had before. Bad things were coming for him, yes, but he could hold them at bay now. He knew that.
He’d just take some more of the water, that was all. Every day. Have some bad moments, sure, maybe deal with some effects that weren’t ideal, but it would keep the real demons away, too. Even though it had given birth to them, it could now keep them away. Wasn’t that a hell of a thing? So he’d stay on the cycle, that was all, protect himself with the same thing that threatened him.
Up to the fourth floor, hand on the elevator wall for balance, then out into the hall, smiling and nodding past a middle-aged couple who went by without a second look. He was getting the hang of this now, learning how to hide the symptoms, knowing that he no longer had to cope with them—the water would do that for him.
There was a rapid tremor working deep within him and his vision was blurred and unsteady, but he found himself laughing at it as he took the keycard from his pocket, whistling as he opened the door, cheerful as hell. Can’t touch me, can’t touch me, can’t touch me. Not anymore, it couldn’t. He had the cure, and who gave a shit if it was also the cause? Important part was that it worked. Control was his again.