Beyond the Reflection’s Edge (24 page)

BOOK: Beyond the Reflection’s Edge
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Nathan stopped and angled his head to read the numbers. “Two fifty-one.”

“Did you read the top?” Kelly spiked her voice. “It’s
Illinois
251!”

Daryl pushed farther into the front to get a look. “You mean I missed the welcome sign?”

“We all did,” Nathan said. “We made some kind of quantum leap into another state.”

Kelly opened her window and looked up at the sky. “Brrr! It’s cold!”

Nathan pointed at the windshield. “Snowflakes.”

Daryl leaned forward, squinting at the tiny crystals landing on the glass. “Did you guys see
The Day after Tomorrow?
It was so cool! Weather disasters all over the world. Global warming on steroids.”

“I doubt this is from global warming.” Nathan resisted the urge to say more. No use scaring anyone. But could the approach of interfinity have anything to do with the weather?

“So where do we go from here?” Kelly asked as she rolled up her window. “We don’t have a GPS, and I can’t even tell which way north is.”

Nathan turned on the heater. “Find a gas station, tell them we’re lost, and buy a map.”

“You’re a guy,” Daryl said. “Isn’t it against one of the rules of manliness to stop and ask directions?”

“Staying lost when you don’t have to isn’t my idea of manly.”

Daryl reached forward and felt Nathan’s bicep. “Oooh, Kelly. Strong and sensible in the same package. Can we clone him? One for you and one for me?”

Kelly pulled Daryl’s arm away and pointed a finger at her. “As long as I get the original model.”

“Hey! I won’t quibble. His clone would be better than the clowns I’ve been out with.”

Nathan groaned. “How many more hours of this do I have to put up with?”

After a few minutes, they found a Shell gas station. Nathan pulled in and glanced around. With a stack of bald tires in front of an empty mechanic’s garage, a dirty window advertising several brands of beer, and no protective canopy over two older-style pumps in front, it didn’t hold promise of carrying a great inventory. Still, they might have a map.

“Better pull out our sweatshirts,” Nathan said as he opened the door. “I’ll see what they’ve got.”

Daryl held out her hand. “Fork over the credit card, dearie, and I’ll fill the tank.”

“It doesn’t look like it takes cards. Just start pumping. It shouldn’t need much, so I’ll use cash. Stop it at twenty dollars if it goes that high.”

When Nathan walked in, a bell jangled over his head. In the background of the dim store, a radio played, a news broadcast blending with an annoying buzz. He spotted the source, a little portable sitting on a snack display in the corner.

A portly bald man with a three-day beard sat on a stool behind the counter, surrounded by a shelf full of cigarettes and snuff on each side, a tall jar filled with red licorice in front, and a rack of hunting magazines in back.

“Help you find something?” the man asked.

Keeping his eye on the radio, Nathan gave him a nod. “Do you have a map?” He tried to listen to the news report. The word
nightmares
had caught his attention.

“Sure.”

As the man waddled to the back of the store, the radio announcer broke through the static. “One expert claimed that
media hype rather than paranormal sources has incited most of the outbreak, but he admits his theory doesn’t explain how the first of these dreams began in Chicago before the phenomena became well-known.” After a brief pause, the announcer continued. “Now to the weather. The unusual winterlike storm continues to spread throughout the Midwest, bringing heavy snow to —”

“Buck twenty-five, tax included,” the man said as he returned to the counter. He plopped the map down and slid it toward Nathan.

Nathan reached into his pocket. “Is that all? I thought it’d be more.” He laid a crumpled dollar bill and a quarter on the counter. “I guess there’s not much demand for maps now that they’re available on the Internet.”

“The Internet?” The man slid the money into his register. “What are you talking about?”

Nathan stared at him for a moment. He seemed sincere. Not a hint of a wink or a smile.

He pulled a twenty from his wallet and laid it on the counter. “If we don’t pump that much, I’ll come back for the change.”

“What are you filling? A Sherman tank?”

“No. A Toyota.” Nathan pushed open the door and looked at the map. On the back, the price read $2.95. As the door swung closed, he glanced back at the store. Could the map have been on sale?

Now wearing a black sweatshirt, Daryl twisted the lid on the gas tank. “I topped it off at fifteen even.”

Nathan eyed the price-per-gallon on the pump. A little higher than normal, but not much. Daryl tossed him his sweat-shirt. He caught it and pulled it over his head, still clutching the map as he pushed his arms through the sleeves.

“You going back for the change?” she asked.

“I’d better not. Something strange is going on.” As the snow-fall thickened, he strode to the driver’s door and got in. He laid
the map on Kelly’s thigh and shoved the key in the ignition. “We’d better get going.”

Kelly unfolded the map and compared it to the one they printed out from the computer. “Believe it or not, we’re only about a mile off the main highway that we would have been on anyway, and we’re about a hundred miles ahead of pace.”

“I’m ready to believe anything.” He turned the key. The engine churned but wouldn’t turn over.

Kelly groaned. “Not now!”

He pumped the accelerator, but the Camry kept grinding without firing. “How do you get it to start when it’s being stubborn?”

“Dad cleans the spark plugs and lubricates the cylinders, but it might be the weather. I’m not sure if it’ll do any good.”

Nathan turned back the key. “Do you know how to do all that?”

“Sure. Just some carburetor cleaner and WD-40.”

He eyed the window ads, searching for automotive supplies. “Maybe the store has some.”

“Probably. And see if they have duct tape. Dad uses that, too.”

“I’ll check!” Daryl reached out her hand. “Grease my palm, moneybags.”

Nathan pulled a five from his wallet. She snatched it from his fingers, jumped out of the car, and jogged into the station’s mini-market, her red hair bouncing freely in the snowy breeze.

Kelly pulled her feet up into the seat and set her chin on a knee, gazing at Nathan. As the outside air seeped into the car, bringing a chill, he settled back and focused on her searching eyes. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Just trying to figure out how to say I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I’m not sure.” She gave a hint of a shrug. “Everything, I guess. You’re so different, I can’t figure you out. Neither can
Daryl. But she just acts natural around you, so I guess I should, too.”

“I’ll try to do the same, but ever since my parents…” A wave of sorrow flooded his mind, clamping his throat shut. He pressed his lips together. He couldn’t possibly say another word without losing it completely.

She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Just take your time.”

“Thanks.” A tear trickled down his cheek. “Sorry I’m not as easygoing as your friends.”

“Daryl and I will help you. And besides…” Leaning over the glove box, she wiped the tear away and kissed his cheek. “I’d rather be with a kindhearted mourner than a celebrating fool.”

Daryl flung open the rear door. “Leave you two alone for one minute and look what happens!”

Kelly fell back into her seat. “Just a kiss of comfort, Miss Bigmouth.”

“I only report what I see.” Daryl bounced into her seat and closed the door. “A big yes-sir-ee on the cleaner and the WD-40.” She held up a blue and yellow can. “This was the last one. And the man said, ‘No charge.’ He owed you five bucks.” She slid Nathan’s five dollars into the glove box.

“Good. Now we can —”

“But there’s a problem. The store guy says the snow’s backing up the highway. No one was prepared, so it’s a mess. Lots of delays.”

Nathan slapped the steering wheel.

“Nathan…” Kelly smiled as she sang his name. “When you can’t change the weather, you have to learn to chill.”

Closing his eyes, he nodded slowly. She was right. No use banging his head against a wall. “Okay. Let’s get the car started and see what happens.”

“The store guy said we could borrow his tools,” Daryl said. “Do you need them?”

Kelly nodded. “If it’s something other than the spark plugs, I’m not sure what I’ll need.”

“Back in a flash!” Daryl opened her door, scurried to the market, and returned seconds later with a toolbox and a clean white rag. “Pop the hood, hot rod!”

As Nathan reached for the lever, Kelly got out and circled around to the front of the car. When she raised the hood, he and Daryl followed to help, but they became no more than shivering observers as Kelly expertly removed, cleaned, and re-installed the spark plugs. She wiped her hands on the cloth and smiled at Nathan. “Give it a try.”

He jogged back to his seat and turned the key. The Camry roared to life and purred, sounding better than when they had started.

Kelly slammed the hood. “Gotta wash up!” she called as she dashed with the toolbox into the curtain of snowflakes.

When she disappeared into the store, Daryl climbed into the backseat and shut the door. “My turn to give you a kiss,” she said.

Nathan kept his gaze locked forward. “That’s okay. You don’t —” A foil-wrapped piece of candy fell into his lap.

Daryl covered her mouth, giggling. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

Snatching up the candy, Nathan turned and looked at her. As her carefree eyes gazed back at him, she smiled and blew him a kiss. “I’ll get you to chill out eventually.”

He relaxed his shoulders and allowed a smile to break through. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Kelly ran back and jumped into the car, the can of WD-40 still in her grip. “Let’s make tracks!”

“Not long, skidding ones, I hope,” Nathan said as he backed out.

She unfolded the map and, peering through the steady snow-fall, guided him through a series of turns that led to the main
highway. As forecasted, cars lined up on the four-lane road, bumper-to-bumper.

Nathan glanced at the map. “Any other routes?”

“Sure. But it’ll take forever.”

“It’ll take longer than forever if we use the interstate.”

Following Kelly’s new instructions, Nathan turned around and traveled narrow, snow-covered roads, slipping and sliding on occasion. Traffic proved to be much lighter, but the slow going ate away at their time. Radio reports didn’t help. Weather forecasts seemed to change by the minute, as did road and traffic conditions. No one seemed to know what was going on.

After a couple of hours, the clouds raced to the east, giving way to warm sunshine that quickly cleared the roads of snow and ice. Nathan rolled down his window and let the warm breeze circulate through the car. As his hair flapped in the wind, he looked over at Kelly. “This is getting out of control.”

She pulled off her sweatshirt and tossed it into Daryl’s lap. “It’s either the most realistic nightmare I’ve ever had, or I’m ready for the loony bin. Take your pick.”

He stopped at an intersection and stripped off his own sweatshirt. “No way. I’m not touching that one.” He tried to keep his mood lively and “chill,” but her mention of nightmares again reminded him of the radio report. Too much weird stuff was going on, and questions without answers kept piling up.

An hour or so later, they pulled in front of a semicircle driveway that led to a long, two-story building with a high turret at one end. The cylindrical turret was capped by a white dome with a narrow telescope opening from the apex to the base — Interfinity’s observatory.

Nathan stopped well away from the building and lowered his window. “We’d better go in on foot.”

“Good thinking.” Kelly folded the map and tucked it under her seat. “I don’t see Gordon’s car anywhere, but we’d better
hide ours. He might’ve called ahead and told them what we’re driving.”

After glancing around for any onlookers, Nathan ran the Toyota up on the curb and into a wooded area, where he parked under an evergreen tree. He gestured for Kelly and Daryl to lean close. “Listen. I’ve done this kind of thing a couple of times before, so just follow me and don’t be shouting stuff like, ‘Nathan, be careful!’ because ‘careful’ isn’t going to get the job done. Who knows? They might be holding Clara hostage, so we can’t just cruise in through the front door.” He pointed at the mirror. “Daryl, I’m going to trust you with that. Guard it with your life.”

She saluted. “Aye-aye, sir!”

“Kelly you take the violin. Leave everything else here. We need to travel as light as possible.”

She reached for the black case on the rear floorboard. “I got it.”

With Nathan leading the way they skulked through the woods toward the observatory eventually finding a narrow stone path that led to a back door in the two-story section of the complex.

He grabbed the door’s metal handle and pulled. “Locked,” he whispered.

Kelly pointed at a numeric pad on the wall. “Want to make a guess?”

“Waste of time.” He looked through a square, head-high window in the door. Inside, a short, empty hallway ended at what looked like another hallway. Standing at the intersection, a tall man in a short-sleeved, blue security-guard uniform yawned and looked at his watch. The logo on his sleeve matched the one Dr. Gordon wore on his blazer — the triple infinity sign.

Backing away Nathan scanned the gray cinder block walls. “Look for an open window, even just a crack.”

Daryl pointed up. “I see one on the second floor.”

“I guess whoever left it open thought it was secure,” Kelly said. “There’s no way to climb.”

Nathan strode up to the wall and pushed his fingers into a gap between two blocks. “I see a narrow ledge between the floors. If I can get up there, I might be able to stand on it and reach the sill.”

Daryl shook her head. “That’s a big ‘if,’ Spider-Man. And the ledge isn’t any wider than half a foot.”

Nathan backed off a step. “There’s got to be a way to get up there.” He looked out over the lush grassy field surrounding the building. “The lawn’s well kept, isn’t it?”

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