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Behind him she shifted and now he could see her hazy reflection in the stainless steel of the closed elevator door. A small, slim figure, girl-?high and girl-?shaped in a ragged and tattered green dress. Even though the reflection was smeared and distorted, he could see her face, see the slashes on it, the blood that welled from it that ran like rainwater down her dress and clung to the matted red curls.
“Oh…God…” he breathed and pressed his eyes shut against the sight; tears struggled out from under his eyelids and burned their way down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry…please…”
“Terry, I don’t want to make you cry. ”
“Then go away!”
“I can’t, Terry. You know that. ” The voice was a little girl’s voice, but the words and the manner of speech were far older than that.
“For the love of God, why can’t you leave me in peace?”
“God?” she echoed with soft mockery in her voice. “God didn’t save me, Terry. God didn’t save you, either. And God won’t save this town. Don’t you understand yet? He’s not dead, Terry. ”
He almost turned, almost wheeled around to face her. “What? What did you say?”
“He’s not dead, Terry,” she said quietly, but there were echoes of sadness and of fear in her voice. “He’s still there, Terry. Still there after all these years. ”
“No! That’s not true. ”
“Yes, Terry. It is and you know it. He’s still there—still here!—and he is going to start it all over again. ”
“No!”
“Yes. All of it, over again. All the hurting, all the dying. Can’t you smell the blood already? He’s coming back, Terry, but this time he’s different. He’s a lot stronger now. Being dead has made him so much stronger. ” Her voice was so old now, ancient with cynical grief. “You thought he was a monster back then, Terry? He’s worse now. You know I’m right—you’ve seen it in your dreams. And you know what he wants from you, what he wants you to be. You see that, too. You see that every time you look in the mirror. ”
“Shut up! Please!”
“You can stop him. ”
“I can’t stop him! How could I ever stop him? I couldn’t stop him from…from…”
“From hurting me?” she offered. “I know, Terry, but you tried. You did try, and I love you for it. But he hurt me, and he hurt you, and then the Bone Man came and hurt him. ”
“Killed him, you mean. ”
“No, hurt him. Reduced him,” she said in her young-?old voice. “Don’t you understand? Evil never dies…it just waits, and it gets stronger in the dark. He can’t die. He isn’t like other people. He isn’t real. ”
“Neither are you!”
“I know,” she said in a sad whisper of a voice, “I know. That’s why it’s up to you, Terry. You have to fight him. ”
“It’s you who doesn’t understand! How could I fight him, even if he was still alive?” There was a long silence, and then Terry felt her hand slip into his. Her fingers were small and cold and wet, and he almost jerked his own hand away—almost, but he didn’t.
“You know how to fight him, Terry. ”
“Then how?” he suddenly snarled. “How am I supposed to fight someone like him? Fight—some-?thing like him?”
“By coming with me. By not being like him. ”
“What are you talking about? I’m not like him!”
Her silence answered him; then after a pause she said, “Terry, the only way to not be like him is to be like me. ”
Now he did jerk his hand away. “What is that supposed to mean?” He wheeled at last and faced her, but she had vanished completely, leaving only the chill of her touch on his fingers. He looked at his hand, at each finger where she had touched him, and saw the tiny droplets of blood. “Mandy…” he whispered. Behind him the elevator doors opened and he spun and blundered out into the empty corridor.
2
Officer Jim Polk slipped the little pint bottle of apricot brandy into his hip pocket and tugged his uniform jacket down to cover the bulge. He felt tired, but now with an ass-?pocketful of good times, he felt relaxed.
