Tommy Nightmare(54)

In all of those lifetimes, ever since his kind had first found their way here and learned to incarnate among the humankind, his touch had possessed the power to command the dead.

By himself, he couldn’t make the reanimated dead do much—just a few repetitive tasks, or continuous marching. The dead were stupid. But if he charged up his power, he could make them wield swords, and maybe guns.

From his past lives, he knew how best to amplify his power. He hadn’t met her in this lifetime, not yet, but he was on his way to reconnect with her. And he planned to bring her back with him, whether she liked that idea or not.

He drove north.





Chapter Twenty-Four


Darcy Metcalf lived in a ranch-style house with windowboxes full of dandelions and other weeds. Tommy parked his motorcycle in her driveway, behind a pick-up truck with Chuck O’ Flannery bumper stickers, featuring the sweaty talk show host with dialogue balloons: “No Healthcare for Hippies!” and “Save A Bullet, Stab a Leftie!”

Tommy smiled, taking it as a good omen. The O’Flannery Overview Hour was where he’d first seen Ashleigh.

He and Esmeralda stepped off the bike. A beady-eyed woman peered out a window, probably drawn by the sound of his motorcycle.

Tommy led the way up the steps to Darcy’s front door. Esmeralda trailed behind him. He felt bad about having to keep Esmeralda in fear, but he needed her.

He knocked on the door.

The jowly, beady-eyed woman opened the door. She was in her late forties or early fifties, and she didn’t look friendly.

“We ain’t buying nothing,” she said through the screen door.

“We’re just here to visit Darcy,” Tommy said.

“Who are you?”

“We’re friends.”

“Darcy don’t have no friends. They all died in the witchcraft.”

“Mom!” Darcy ran towards the door. She was wearing a long-faded Fallen Oak Baptist Kids’ Kamp T-shirt, which didn’t cover her swollen pregnant belly. She also wore yellow rubber gloves and smelled like Clorox. “That’s Tommy Goodling!” Darcy beamed through the screen door at Tommy, but her smile fell when she saw Esmeralda.

“Who’s the Mexican?” Darcy’s mom asked. “Bet she’s illegal!”

Esmeralda gave her an angry glare.

“Mommm!” Darcy said. She pushed opened the screen door. “Come on in, Tommy.”

“You didn’t tell me you was having friends over.” Darcy’s mom eyeballed Tommy and Esmeralda with disgust as they walked into her foyer.

“I didn’t know they were coming!” Darcy said.

“Did you clean both bathrooms?” her mom asked.

“Just about,” Darcy said.

“Did you scrub the commodes?”

“Mom, do you have to say that?” Darcy turned bright red, looking at Tommy.

“Well, did you?” her mom asked. “You can’t go nowhere until you scrub the commodes.”

“Okay, okay!” Darcy said.

Darcy’s dad wheeled into the room. The man was obese, with a thick moustache and an angry look on his face. He was missing one foot. Tommy could hear Wheel of Fortune in the living room from which he’d emerged.

“Who in Christ is this?” her dad demanded, staring at Tommy.

“Language, Morris,” Darcy’s mom said softly.

“Is this the boy who knocked you up?” Darcy’s dad growled. His hands balled into fists on his wheelchair arms.

“No, Dad!” Darcy’s face was deep red now, and she covered her eyes with one yellow glove. “I told you a million times, it was Bret Daniels. He disappeared like everybody else.”

“Pretty convenient for him!” he barked. “Now I got to pay for a baby with nothing but disability and the shit money your momma makes at the fabric store! When you gonna get a got-damn job?”

“Language, Morris,” Darcy’s mom said.

“I told you, I applied at the Hardee’s and the Wal-Mart already,” Darcy said. “Nobody’s hiring! So why can’t I just hang out with people for once?”

“You can’t go nowhere until you give me my insulin,” her dad said.

“And scrub the commodes,” her mother reminded her.

“Okay! I’m doing it!” Darcy marched down the hall. “I’m scrubbing the dumb commodes!” To Tommy, she said, “You guys want to hang out in my room and wait for me? I’ve got a radio you can turn on, if you keep the volume below 3.”

Tommy and Esmeralda followed her down the hall.

“No boys in your bedroom!” her father yelled.

Darcy turned around to face him, and cupped her swollen belly in both hands. “Oh, gee whiz, Dad, what’s gonna happen? I mean, get real.”