Dastardly Bastard(55)

“What makes you say that?”

“You don’t think so?” Mark asked. He was still smiling.

“I didn’t say that. I just think whatever happens is going to happen at this point.”

“Not a very positive outlook, chicklet,” Donald said.

Justine stopped. “What happened to you? Suddenly you’re Mr. Optimist? I don’t get it.”

“I came to grips with some things back in that house. Whatever realm or way station that was, I needed it. Sunne’s dead and gone. But she’s alive and well up here.” Donald tapped his temple. “And in here.” He moved his hand to his chest.

“It’s all about the memories, Justine. All of this.” Mark held his arms out to his sides, motioning toward the houses, the approaching tree line, and the street. “Even this place. It’s all just a memory. Whose? I don’t know yet.”

“Scooter’s. It’s his mind we’re in.” Lyle spoke in a monotone. All emotion had left his face. He seemed to be considering something. “Look. I know this sounds crazy, but we’re somewhere that isn’t here.”

“We already figured that part out, kid.” Donald laughed. “Sorry. Still trying on this new skin. Hard not to be a jerk when you’ve practiced the role for twenty-some-odd years.”

“Donald’s right, though. So are you, Lyle,” Mark assured them. “We’re not here. How we get back into ourselves, I have no idea. But we have more control over things than this… this Bastard wants us to know. I used my memories, an entire freaking army of them, to destroy that monster. I can’t speak for Donald, but I think he vanquished some shit he was dealing with, also.”

“We still have to find Him. We don’t even know what He looks like.”

“Wait!” Lyle yelled, causing the entire group to jump. “Yes! Yes we do!”





41


LYLE DUG INTO HIS POCKET, hunting something from memory. He pulled out the cell phone a second later, laughing.

“We all saw it. Saw it clear as day!” Lyle unlocked the phone and began cycling through the picture messages. He stopped on the one of the shadow creeping over the edge of the chasm onto the trail. “See?”

Everyone gathered around the phone. Lyle saw quizzical stares, shocked expressions, and vague understanding on their faces.

“What the fuck?” Mark scratched his head. “That from my camera?”

“We thought so. I’m tired of asking how stuff happened. I’m just going with the flow now.” Justine actually laughed.

“I haven’t seen those,” Mark said.

“We found them right about the time you disappeared.” Justine filled Mark in on his vanishing act. Lyle saw some recollection in the big guy’s eyes, but nothing concrete.

“Okay. But how do we use this information?” Mark finally asked.

“He showed himself.” Justine looked as if she was fighting for understanding. The more she talked, the more pieces fell into place. Lyle felt his pulse quicken, “It was his first contact with us. He wasn’t concerned with being caught. He had no idea we’d be able to fight back. Ever since that moment… ever since then, I…”

“Come on, chick!” Donald pushed. Lyle wanted to know just as bad.

“I haven’t seen a single shadow!” Justine exploded. She clapped her hands together. “That’s when it started. That’s where we are, stuck in that moment, that second of time. I just know it!”

“How do we use that information to get back?” Mark asked.

“I don’t think we have to.” Donald held up a hand in front of his face. Lyle could see right through it. “I think just the memory is sufficient.”

“What happened? What happened in that exact moment, Lyle?” Justine looked to him, pleading with her eyes.

“Donald called Jaleel the N-word. It started there.”

“Whoa, kids. I don’t feel too hot.” Donald was becoming less tangible as the conversation progressed.

“Then, it jumped to my… my mother.” Lyle cringed, letting the bad memory surface so he could use it. Hope resided in there somewhere. He just had to find it. “Mom started yelling at me, telling me that I was the reason dad died.”

“Shit!” Donald yelled, just before he winked out of existence completely.

“Well, that worked like gangbusters.” Mark chuckled. “You’re next, Lyle. Look.”

Lyle looked down at his hands. He was a ghost. He stared through his cell phone to the asphalt. He couldn’t help but giggle. “Cool.”

“You went away after that,” Mark continued the story. “You ran for the cliff. Took off like a bat out of hell. That’s when I dropped the camera. I went to save you.”

Lyle could feel his feet leaving the ground. He tried to wave to Justine and Mark, tried to say goodbye, but he was already traveling. Already gone.





42


“THAT LEAVES YOU MARK,” JUSTINE told the big man. “You were running toward Lyle. Reaching out to him and—”

“Wait.” Mark tried to grab her wrist, but his hand passed right through her arm. He looked at her, a sudden harsh fear in his eyes. “What about you?”