There wasn’t much wind, but the sheet flowed and trembled around the stranger as he walked.
So far, he remained in the middle of the road.
“Maybe he’ll just walk by,” I whispered.
“Who do you think it is?” Dagny asked.
“No idea.”
“Who’s that tall?”
“Can’t think of anybody.”
“Me neither.” Dagny was silent for a moment, then said, “He doesn’t seem to be looking at us.”
True. To see us standing at the mouth of the dirt road—several feet beyond the edge of the highway—he would’ve needed to turn his head.
“Maybe he doesn’t know we’re here,” I whispered.
We both went silent, side by side, as the sheeted figure glided closer and closer.
It stayed on the center line, face forward.
But I knew its head would turn.
And then it would come for us.
My heart pounded like crazy. My legs were shaking.
Dagny took hold of my hand.
As she squeezed my hand, we looked at each other. Her teeth were bared, but I couldn’t tell whether she was giving me a smile or a grimace.
Turning our heads, we faced the stranger.
He kept walking. And then he was past us.
Dagny loosened her grip on my hand.
I took a deep breath.
The man in the sheet kept walking, kept walking.
We didn’t dare say anything. Nor did we dare look away from him for fear he might turn around and come back toward us.
Soon, he disappeared around a bend.
“What was that?” Dagny asked, her voice hushed though the sheeted man was far beyond hearing, range.
“I don’t know,” I muttered.
“Jeezel peezel,” she said.
“Yeah.”
We both kept staring down the road.
“Is he gone?” Rusty called from somewhere among the trees.
“Yeah,” I said. “You can come out now.”
Rusty tromped out of the darkness. The moonlight flashed on the blade of the knife in his right hand. “What’d you wanta just stand here for?” he asked, sounding annoyed.
Dagny shrugged. “Why run?” she asked. “He didn’t do anything.”
“I was ready for him,” Rusty said, raising his knife. “Lucky for him he kept going.”
We all turned and stared at where the sheeted man had gone.
I really expected him to reappear, gliding toward us around the curve.
But the road was empty.
“Let’s get out of here,” Dagny said.
“Janks Field?” asked Rusty. When he saw how we looked at him, he said, “Just kidding.”
So we headed north on Route 3, walking back toward town. We walked more quickly than usual. We often looked behind us.
When at last we reached the sanctuary of well-lighted streets, porches with glowing jack-o’-lanterns and houses with bright windows, we slowed to our usual pace. And we didn’t look behind us quite so often.
“You know what?” said Rusty. “We should’ve gone after him.”
“Sure,” said Dagny.
“No, really. I mean it. Now we’ll never find out who he was. And you know, he must not’ve been following us like we thought, so what was he doing? Where was he going? There isn’t another town for twenty miles in that direction.”
“Nothing but more forest,” I added.
Shaking his head, Rusty said, “Shit. We should’ve followed him or something.”
“Sure,” said Dagny.
“Wouldn’t you love to know what he was up to?”
“I don’t think I want to know,” Dagny said.
The thing about that night is that Rusty got scared and fled.
We could’ve gone with him, of course. It was our choice not to run off and hide. But after he knew that we were staying by the road, he didn’t come back.
He didn’t stick with us.
That’s the point.
Rusty couldn’t be completely trusted to watch out for Slim. In a bad situation, he might save his own hide and let Slim go down.
I never should’ve left them on the roof together.
Chapter Twelve
On our way back to Route 3, Lee drove the dirt road very slowly. We both scanned the woods in hopes of seeing Slim and Rusty.
Three times, Lee stopped her truck and tooted the horn. I climbed out and called their names. Then we waited. Nobody yelled back. Nobody showed up. So she drove on.
When we reached the two-lane highway, I said, “Maybe you’d better let me out.”