Page 38 of What Happens at Nightfall

If they caught her conducting strange rites, it would give them a reason to call the police that wouldn’t involve admitting to breaking into the woman’s apartment.

It was a terrible plan, but it was the only plan they’d got. The main gate loomed above Jess as it had only three days before, all Gothic tracery, as if someone had taken a cathedral and squashed it flat. Adam detached himself from the space between the arches and walked forward to meet her. Unlike her, he was dressed as a perfectly normal human being in well-worn jeans and a Henley shirt.

“Sorry I’m late,” Jess said, trying not to pant too obviously. She’d run the final two blocks, racing against the sunset. “The subway got held because of some sort of signal problem. Where’s Melinda?”

“She’s at her best friend’s house for a sleepover,” said Adam, wasting no time in heading under the left-hand arch. “I packed her off with her iPad, a change of clothes, and something that looks like an infernal device but she swears is a legitimately school-sanctioned robot in progress.”

Jess hurried after Adam, out the other side of the gates, past the sign for the bathrooms. “Do you think she’ll stay there?”

“She’d better, or I’m cutting off her internet access for the rest of the year.”

“Can you do that?”

“Not in any way that she can’t get around. She’s been hacking the parental controls on her iPad since she was seven,” he said proudly.

“Today, her iPad, tomorrow the Kremlin,” said Jess.

“Don’t give her ideas.” Something cawed loudly overhead. Adam paused beside the plastic map dispensers to squint up at the confusion of birds wheeling through the elaborate piercing of the Gothic spires. “The parrots are restless tonight.”

Jess cocked her head, trying to get a better look. “Parrots? That’s what those are?”

“They escaped from a crate at JFK back in the seventies. Or at least that’s the story. No one knows why they decided to roost here, but they’ve been here ever since. Do you see? Those are their nests up there.” Now that he was pointing at it, Jess could make out the edges of twigs that erupted out of the Gothic splendor of the spires. “It’s like a parrot apartment complex up there. They nest in pairs, two by two.”

His voice was carefully expressionless. Jess said hastily, “You’d think bats would be more in keeping with the theme.”

He glanced down at her. “Did you know there’s such a thing as a vampire parrot?”

“You’re making that up.” Jess fell into step with him as he started down the path, ducking under the willow that had pulled at her hair the night of the tour.

“No, seriously. It’s called a Dracula parrot. These aren’t those, though. These are monk parakeets.”

“Also appropriate,” said Jess. Her phone was going mad in her pocket, buzzing and buzzing. Jess fumbled for the side button to make it stop. “Like the monks in Monty Python chanting ‘dona eis requiem.’”

Adam gave her a sidelong grin. “I love that movie. I’ve tried to make the kids watch it, but neither of them finds it funny.”

“Kids today,” said Jess. Her phone vibrated again. With a sigh, she wiggled it out of her pocket, glancing at the row of notifications.

Mom again. Also Kimmy. Lots of Kimmy. And more Mom.

“Do you need to answer that?”

“Not this second.” Tilting her phone out of his view, Jess pulled up Kimmy on text and typed, Out with arborist! More later. “That should do it for now.”

Defiantly, Jess pressed the power button, shutting down the whole thing. They did not need their covert operation ruined by her mother calling to tell her about some great new sculptor she’d discovered who worked only in used garbage bags and headless Barbie dolls. Or Kimmy, with gossip from the preschool pickup line that meant nothing to Jess since she didn’t know any of the people involved anyway.

“How far is it?” Jess was beginning to regret she hadn’t grabbed one of those maps at the entrance.

A giant obelisk reared up ahead of her. The letters of the inscription had been graven so deeply that even with the ravages of frost and hail and hurricanes, they stood out clearly:

ERECTED BY THE CITY OF BROOKLYN TO THE MEMORY OF THOSE WHO PERISHED IN THE BROOKLYN THEATRE FIRE.

“Not far. We’re taking a slightly circuitous path.”

“Aren’t they all circuitous?” They’d barely started and already Jess was lost. She craned her head to try to get a sense of where they were and promptly tripped over an exposed root.

Adam put out a hand to steady her. “Watch out. It’s bumpy.”

There was a tension building as Adam led them onward, into the setting sun. Jess could feel it, like humidity before a storm, even though the sky was cloudless and the air dry. It was in the shadows between the tombs, in the rustle of the leaves where there was no wind to stir them. The parrots wheeled overheard, cawing a warning before winging abruptly back to the safety of their nests. A squirrel squeaked and ran. Jess could feel the sweat pooling in the small of her back, the hairs curling at the nape of her neck. The sky was still blue, but the clouds were tinged with scarlet.