Reality Check (8 page)

“Doc?” Stormy asked.

Charly nodded her head as if Stormy could see her. “Yes. Dr. Deveraux El. You may've seen him at Smax's. He's the one who sits at the bar studying history, the zodiac, maps. Lola must've gotten his number from Smax. But why is she calling him?” Charly wondered aloud.

“Oh yes. Him. I met him, Charly. He's the one who told me I didn't have a name. He said people were given titles, not names. And names are only for birth certificates or something like that.”

Charly laughed. Yes, her sister had met Dr. Deveraux El.

“Charly? Stormy?” Lola asked, finally back on the line. “I have Doc on the phone.”

“Charly? My dear sister, Charly. Can you tell me, do you know where Ursa Minor is in the sky? If we can find that, I can get you to your destination,” Dr. Deveraux said as if his question was as simple as
Have you ever drunk water?

“Ursa Minor?” Charly asked.

“Yes. You know, Polaris? Ursa Minor, Ursa Major . . . Great Bear and Little Bear? The tip of Ursa Minor is Polaris, and Polaris doesn't move; it guides,” Dr. Deveraux explained.

Charly looked left, then right. The answer didn't come from anyone in either direction, and it certainly wasn't coming from her head.

“Oh, you mean the North Star?” Stormy's voice chimed in.

“Exactly, Sister Stormy,” Dr. Deveraux praised. “If we can help Charly read that . . . if she finds the North Star, then she'll know every other direction.”

T
he phone had died. The cell she'd borrowed from Eight had keeled over in her hand, screaming from too much North Star information and not enough battery juice. Charly looked at the small screen and shrugged. Okay, so it hadn't folded over and cried out, but she certainly felt like hollering at the top of her lungs after talking to Stormy and Dr. Deveraux about the Ursas, which she'd lied about spotting. Yes, she knew where they were now, had memorized everything she could about Polaris and the dippers and bears, so she didn't see the sense of dragging out the conversation, especially when she overheard Driver saying something about progress and getting off the side of the road soon.

Eight walked up to her. “You good?” he asked. His hand was extended.

Charly put the dead phone on his palm. “Sorry. It died before I finished talking.” She looked around, searching for Sully's silhouette in the darkness. Somehow it seemed to have grown darker since she'd been on the phone, and she could barely make anyone out. Tiny paws pitter-pattered by her feet, almost running past, and Charly reached down, scooping up Doll in her arms. She didn't know how such a tiny thing had gotten down the bus stairs. “Where's Sully?” she finally asked Eight. Since they'd known each other, Sully always seemed to be right there, so his not being around was strange. She could see Eight's head move in the darkness, or could she?

“On the bus. He's kind of busy.”

Charly laughed. “Busy? Yeah, right. He can't be doing anything except sleeping or going to the bathroom, and I may be wrong, but I think the lavatories only work with power.”

“I dunno,” Eight said, then turned his back on her. “But I'm headed back to the bus. I think Driver's fixing it. You coming?”

Charly crinkled her brows together. Eight was a strange one, but Sully had said that he'd come on the road trip for him and to chaperone. Maybe he was Sully's personal assistant or something, she guessed. With Doll in her hands, she ran past Eight and climbed the bus's stairs. In the dark, she felt her way toward the bunk area and found her bag hanging on a hook. She grabbed it, then unplugged her phone from the socket and stuck it inside her purse. The leash was sticking out the side of the bag. “Marlow. Marlow?” she called in a loud whisper, then felt Marlow at her feet. She didn't know why she felt the need to be quiet, but it was something about being in the dark that made her feel it necessary.

Bending down, she felt for Marlow's collar, then hooked the leash onto it with one hand. A deep moan pulled her attention, and she recognized Sully's voice. He sounded as if he was in major pain.

“You need help?” Eight asked, suddenly back on the bus. He walked over by Charly, making his way through the tiny space between her and the bunk. Sully groaned again. “I see you have both dogs. You need me to hold one or something?” Eight asked, turning up his voice as if he wanted to drown out Sully's groans.

“No, I'm fine. I was thinking about taking them out, but I think I'm gonna lay it down for a second,” Charly said, craning her neck to try to make out Sully in the darkness. He moaned again. “Is he okay?” Charly asked, gripping Marlow's collar and balancing Doll at the same time. “On second thought, I think I can use some help. I'll nap later.”

“Yes. Sully's all right. Always is,” Eight said, making his way to the kitchen area and totally ignoring Charly. From where she stood, she could see Eight open the refrigerator, take out something large and set it on the counter. Marlow started to cry. “I'll wake you up when we get to Chicago or when help comes,” he said to her. “You just go ahead and get some rest.”

“Okay,” Charly said to him, nodding. She eased her way to the front of the bus without him knowing. She didn't know what was up with Sully, and she could tell that Eight didn't want her to, which was fine. She was more interested in getting Marlow outside to relieve herself than worrying about who knew what. On her way down the stairs, she smiled when she heard the engine cough and the camera crew clap, but she kept her words and excitement to herself as she slipped undetected behind the crowd standing a few feet in front of the bus. She was tired, and wasn't up to idle chatter or a million watts of camera lights in her face, filming her. All Charly really needed was a few minutes alone—hundreds of seconds with just her and the dogs, she told herself. Then things would be better and she'd be her old self.

“Go Driver!” someone cheered.

“I do what I can, but nothing's promised. Yet,” Driver bragged, flicking a lighter to partially illuminate a DIY engine guide.

Charly rounded the back of the bus and met pure darkness. For a second she stood, staring off into the nothingness, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Marlow scampered at her feet, pulling on the leash. “Okay, okay, Marlow,” Charly said, walking Marlow down the dark road, careful to stay on the side of the street. Holding Doll in one arm and letting Marlow pull her other, she looked to the sky that went on forever and felt as if she were walking on it. It was that clear, that beautiful. It stretched before her like a sparkling magic carpet, and before Charly knew it, she was searching for Ursa Minor.

“There,” she said, pointing to the heavens, trying to focus on what looked like a connect-the-dot dipper. “I see it, Marlow. I think . . .”

A crunching, rattling sound snatched her attention and made Marlow bark and dance. Behind her, the bus's engine roared to life. Charly turned, ready to yell out at the red brake lights that now glowed, but froze. There, on the ground in front of her and Marlow, something made a noise and moved. Slithered? Crouched?
Oh. God.
Charly didn't know what to do. Ever so slowly, she tightened Marlow's leash around her hand and reeled Marlow in closer, millimeter by millimeter, afraid that whatever it was would harm them if they moved too suddenly. Marlow whined, wanting to get to whatever it was in front of them. Doll growled. Charly tilted her head. Something had just hissed, she thought. Then the bus yawned and squeaked, the motor hummed and then shushed as if telling her to be quiet. But Charly knew better. The bus wasn't warning her of anything. The
shh
sound was a forewarning of what she heard next. The tour bus pulled off, and Charly watched it go. There was no way she could catch up to her ride. There was also no way she could scream without whatever-it-was attacking her and Marlow and Doll, and she was pretty sure that whatever-it-was was a snake. It had to be, she believed, staring as if glaring would summon the light to reveal to her what was on the ground.

A semi truck blew past, pushing a dirty breeze her way and offering a hint of light from its beams. And Charly saw it. A black snake was on the ground just a few feet in front of her and Marlow. Without thinking, she forgot about keeping still, and tightened her hold on Doll as she scooped up Marlow. Her feet connected with her butt as she ran like an Olympian down the middle of the road, too scared to realize that she was moving opposite the way the tour bus had gone, until it was too late and she was too tired to keep running.

She'd been walking and watching the stars forever. At least that's what it felt like. It was cold, dark, and creepy, but she couldn't let the scary trio deter her. The bus hadn't come back for her and the dogs, and she knew it probably wouldn't. Not until it was too late. She'd made Eight believe she was taking a nap, and was sure everyone probably thought she was tucked behind the curtain that separated her bunk from view. Charly kept pushing straight ahead. Darkness surrounded her on all sides, so it didn't matter which way she went. Up in the distance, a faint light pulled her attention. She didn't know if it was her imagination or not, but it seemed welcoming, like a hint of civilization. It also seemed to be moving farther away with each step, yet it appeared to get lighter every time her feet connected to the ground. Charly exhaled. She was sure she'd traveled a mile or more, but all would be okay, she believed. Especially when she spotted signage telling her that the light in the distance belonged to a truckers' gas station with a convenience store and diner.

“Yes!” she said, finally putting Marlow back on the ground. “In a second, Doll,” she assured the tiny red pooch, knowing Doll probably had to go too, but Charly had only one leash, so the two of them had to share.

The cracked concrete of the gas station was under her feet before she knew it. Inhaling the truck fumes, she smiled, then squinted to adjust to the light. Charly was glad not to be drowned in almost complete darkness anymore. Her eyes surveyed the truck stop, and landed on a fleet of eighteen-wheelers parked in the distance. People moved around and drivers came and went, and Charly took it all in. Yes, she'd reached civilization. She just didn't know which.

“You lost?” a male voice asked.

Marlow barked and wagged her tail. Doll moved in Charly's arms, trying to get down. Charly's heart did a
thu-thump
behind her ribs, feeling like a hammer banging in her chest cavity. “It's you?” she asked, knowing who it was without looking. His accent gave him away.

His laugh came out low and sexy, more like a moan. “Liam,” he said, offering his name as if she'd forgotten. As if anyone could ever forget who he was, which Charly doubted with everything inside her. Forgetting Liam was akin to forgetting to breathe.

Charly turned. She felt her face stiffen, and knew she wore a look of shock, though she didn't know why. She'd known exactly whom she was going to see before she'd turned. Liam had even told her. She'd turned to stone because his masculine beauty was mesmerizing and rendered her incapable of doing anything but stare, she told herself. “Hi,” she managed to say, and could've kicked herself for sounding so stupid. There they were, in the middle of nowhere, in the darkness of night, and all she could come up with was
hi
?

Liam smiled. “Well, hello to you too, love,” he greeted, winking. “What are you doing here?” he began, then looked around. “Wait a moment. Where's your tour bus? Where's the crew?”

Charly shrugged, loving the way he'd called her
love
and wondering if it was a name solely for her, or was it his way of addressing girls—like the way some guys from London called other guys blokes. She shook her head. She was giving his use of the word
love
too much thought. “It's just me and Marlow and Doll. The others left,” she began, then explained what had gone down.

Liam dug his hands in his jeans pockets, then kicked at loose gravel. He nodded. “I get it, love. I do.” He began walking toward the expanse of openness that led to the diner, which was set out in the distance as if purposely trying to separate itself from the gas station. Charly and the dogs followed. Liam exhaled. “We stopped because I had to breathe for a moment. It's too crowded on the bus. Way too many people jammed inside. It feels sorta like a can of sardines.”

Charly was sure Liam's complaint was valid, but his delectable accent made it all seem like it wasn't so bad. She paused. “Wait. I thought you took a jet everywhere.”

Liam stopped, nodded, then laughed. He kicked at the gravel again. “Guess you heard I was too good to take a tour bus too. That I'm a bit, well . . . standoffish? Better than everyone else, I suppose? Boy Wonder, huh, love?” he asked, winking again.

Charly shrugged. “Well, I wouldn't say all of that, but, ya know?” She smiled, knowing her
ya know
gave it away. Yes, she'd heard Liam was better than everyone else, or believed he was.

Liam took Doll from Charly and leaned in toward her ear. “Well, looks like you may be the only one who gets to know me, Charly. I mean, since we're now touring together.” He tilted his head in the direction his bus was parked. “It's a bonus for me, though, love. I want to know you. You're different, in a good way,” he whispered, then set the dog on the ground.