Wild Ride (4 page)

“Over my dead body,” Glenda said.

Ray went very still, and Mab realized how really big he was, looming over Glenda, who was no waif herself. “If that's the way you want it,” he said, smiling, and Glenda took a step forward, lowering her head, looking dangerously intent.

What the hell?
Mab thought. “Hey,” she said, and they both jerked around to look at her. “I don't know what's going on here, but knock it off.”

Ray looked back at Glenda, and when he spoke again, it was very softly. “Don't cross me, Glenda. You have no idea how powerful I really am.”

Then he turned and walked past Delpha and out the back door, and a moment later, they heard the outside door slam in the hall.

“Yeah, well, you have no idea how powerful
I
am, you dipstick,” Glenda said to the doorway, and then she turned back to Mab and said brightly, “How about that tea?”

There was something bad going on here, Mab was sure of it, but she had a head injury and she was really tired, and her reality had been bent enough for one night.

“Wonderful,” she said, and went back to sit down at the counter.

 

T
he impact from the shot hitting his vest knocked Ethan backwards and made the old bullet in his chest sear as he slammed into the ground. The shooter, dressed all in black and wearing a mask and night-vision goggles, watched him for a moment and then sprinted away toward the front of the park. Ethan tried to raise the pistol and fire, but the pain in his chest was too much. He let his head fall back and closed his eyes and waited to die.

After a few moments, when the pain receded and he was still breathing,
he opened his eyes and saw Gus leaning over him, concerned. “You all right?”

“Who was that?” Ethan managed to get out.

“No idea.”

“This happen often?”

“First time,” Gus said, helping Ethan up to a sitting position.

“Great.” Ethan tried taking a deeper breath. The pain was still bad but bearable now.

“We got other problems,” Gus said. “Only four rattles. Means a demon is out.” He shook his head. “If we're lucky, it's Fufluns and not Selvans or that devil Kharos.”

Ethan rubbed his chest, still trying to breathe. “Gus, forget the demon stories. We got somebody in the park with a gun—”

“What stories?” Gus looked insulted. “What we got is a demon on the loose.” He shook his head. “I shoulda guessed that when Mab got run down.”

Gus believed there were demons. Ethan closed his eyes. He'd been away too long. Gus was losing more than his hearing, and Glenda had probably been trying to hold it together on her own. That impulse he'd had to come home, maybe it wasn't so insane after all.

Even if it did mean he'd gotten shot again.

“We gotta call the cops,” Ethan said, trying to stand up on his own, his difficulty part pain and part alcohol.

“No cops,” Gus said. “Cops can't fight demons.”

“Forget the demons.” Ethan levered himself to his feet using Gus's shoulder. “We got a shooter—
ouch
.” He winced and put his hand over his chest. “
Damn
it.”

“We should go to the first-aid station,” Gus said, trying to support Ethan.

“Bullet didn't penetrate my Kevlar,” Ethan said.

“We better go anyway.” Gus slung an arm around Ethan. “You know how Glenda is.”

Ethan was in too much pain to argue. He nodded and started down the midway, leaning on the old man.

“Real glad you're home,” Gus said. “You got here just in time.”

“Yeah,” Ethan said, and kept walking.

 

G
lenda put a cup of hot water in front of Mab, dumping in a peppermint tea bag. “This'll make you feel better, honey.”

Mab pulled the mug closer. “I'm sorry about Ray. Sometimes he's a little creepy.”

Glenda nodded. “Your family's social skills could use some work.”

Mab stirred her tea and thought of her grandmother, who had sold anti-evil charms and done exorcisms for the neighbors; and her mother, who had picketed Dreamland every Halloween, demanding the park be shut down with her sign that said
THE DEVIL LIES WITHIN!
thereby ensuring that Mab would never get a date or a friend without moving to a different town; and now her uncle, who had promised to fix the park and gotten himself elected mayor on that, in spite of his nonexistent charm. “We don't have any social skills. Thank you for the tea.”

Glenda leaned against the counter. “So did the clown say anything else?”

“Uh, no.” Mab blew on her tea, watching Glenda to see what was coming next.

Glenda nodded, noncommittal. “Did his eyes . . . flash or glow or . . . anything?”

“Of course not. They're painted turquoise. I painted them turquoise. I may have been hallucinating, but I was
accurate
.”

“Of course you were.” Glenda glanced at Delpha as if for support.

Delpha nodded.

“So,” Glenda said, “there wasn't anything else . . . strange about him?”

“He was a robot clown. That was strange enough for me.”

“Of course it was.” Glenda patted her hand. “Don't you worry about it. We'll find the statue tomorrow. If it's banged up, you can just touch it up and it'll be good as new.”

Mab looked at her in disbelief. Touch it up? That waistcoat had been
glazed
, ten coats to give it that depth. She'd painted the shadows in the folds of the coat, stroked individual hairs in those curls, put tiny glints of silver in the eyes to make them sparkle—

Touch it up?

She picked up her tea mug and slid off the stool before Glenda could
say anything else insane. “Thank you very much for the tea and the nursing, but I need to go to bed—”

Delpha straightened and said, “Ethan is hurt,” and Glenda stubbed out her cigarette in the sink and made a beeline for the front door.

“How do you know?” Mab said, but Delpha was already out the door, following Glenda.

Mab went to the window and saw Gus supporting Ethan as they staggered back from the Dragon, Ethan looking more drunk than injured. Glenda put her arms around them, and they made their way to the candy-colored first-aid station across from the Dream Cream. Clustered together like that, they looked like a family, a strange family, but still family, bonded and loving and supportive. Even Frankie flying overhead was sort of Lassie-like, if Tim Burton had done Lassie.

Ray may have been all the family she had left, but at least he was normal.

Kind of.

She didn't need family anyway.

It was past midnight and her head hurt, and Ethan had his family propping him up, so she locked the front door and turned out the lights and carried her work bag upstairs. Tomorrow she'd find out what had happened to the FunFun at the gate, and if there was anything wrong with it, she'd take care of whoever had messed with her work.

That better have been a hallucination
, she thought, and went to bed.

 

K
haros had been drowsing, dreaming of conquering the park and the earth, when a surge of power had jolted him awake.

One had broken free.

He concentrated, searching for the miscreant, the one of four who had disobeyed him, but he already knew it was one of two. Vanth and Selvans would make no move without his order, but—

Another surge of power, another Untouchable free, two now, Fufluns and Tura. The damage they could do to his plan—

Ray walked up and sat down beside the Devil statue, lit up a cigar, and rapped on the metal. “Hey.”

If Kharos had been out, he'd have swatted him like a fly.

“It's a good news, bad news thing,” Ray said, leaning back and puffing away. “Fufluns is out.”

HOW DID HE GET OUT?

Ray took the cigar out of his mouth. “Mab put the key in, and when I went to get the chalice, the statue was gone. College kids steal that damn statue all the time, so I'm guessing his chalice was broken and this time Fufluns got out and ran with it.”

FIND HIM AND BRING HIM TO ME
.

“How?” Ray said.

HE'LL POSSESS SOMEONE. THEN DRINK AND CHASE WOMEN
.

“That's every guy in the park.”

Kharos seethed for a moment. If he could have, he'd have smashed Ray's head like a clay pot. But he couldn't. Ray had power and skills. And he was on the outside of the prison in which Kharos was trapped, so he couldn't be reached anyway.

Although . . .

Fufluns' and Tura's escapes had strengthened Kharos. Straining against the confines of his chalice, he reached out with his mind and tweaked the back of Ray's head.

A clump of hair fell out.

Ray scratched the back of his head and then went on talking, oblivious. “It's not like I have time to go hunting down escaped demons. I'm the
mayor
, you know. I have things to do that don't involve you.”

INSECT
, Kharos thought. In two weeks, he was going to smash Ray's head like a clay pot.

“For example,” Ray went on, “we have this Halloween merchant thing going on that's very popular—”

GO WHERE PEOPLE ARE LAUGHING. FIND THE HUMAN WHO IS THE CENTER OF ATTENTION. TOUCH HIM WITH IRON. IF HE FLINCHES, SAY, “KHAROS COMMANDS YOU TO GO TO HIM
.”

“You know,” Ray said, “maybe we're rushing this. We don't have to do this right now. Another year wouldn't—”

NO
, Kharos said.
YOU HAVE DELAYED TOO MUCH ALREADY. FORTY YEARS
.

“Hey, the first twenty were mine, that was the deal.” Ray chomped his cigar gloomily. “I should have held out for fifty. When you're fifteen, thirty-five sounds ancient.”

YOU'VE TAKEN FORTY
.

“Yeah, but the last twenty have been working for you, making money for your big plan.”

IT TOOK YOU TOO LONG
.

“Even with your mojo, the markets are treacherous. I did the best I could.” Ray looked mutinous. “And then I had to come back to this podunk town.”

FORGET THAT. YOU HAVE MY WORK TO DO NOW
.

“What I'm saying is that if you give me another year or two, maybe five, I'll own the whole town and the park, and then we won't have to go sneaking around like this. A little more time—”

YOU ARE TRYING MY PATIENCE
.

“Wait. I have some good news.” He put his cigar on the edge of the bench, reached under his long coat, and pulled out a wooden chalice. “I got Tura. One of two ain't bad.”

THAT IS AN EMPTY VESSEL
.

Ray looked at the wood in his hands. “But the lid is on. I swear, I haven't opened it.”

FUFLUNS FREED HER
.

“I didn't turn the key to open the statue. I told Mab to replace the flute key so I could get Fufluns' chalice out of his statue while she was up on the roof. She never suspected a thing.” He looked away, frowning as he thought. “She must have found the dove key and put it on the Tunnel of Love on her own, thinking she was just putting back a missing bird.” He shook his head. “That was not my fault—”

PUT TURA'S CHALICE BACK. FIND FUFLUNS. HE WILL DEAL WITH TURA
.

“All right, although I still think waiting another five or ten years would be smarter.” Ray stood up. “Oh, one other thing: Glenda's son came home. Ethan. He just got out of the Green Berets.”

THAT IS NOTHING TO ME. FIND FUFLUNS
.

“All right. I'll put off my own work to help you. But I can't keep dropping everything every time there's a glitch in your plan. It's taken me a
long time to live down the Brannigan name. People are sucking up now, but they're just waiting for me to screw up, and then they'll be on me again.”

Kharos could understand that. He'd been assuming Ray was going to screw up for forty years, but Ray had been smarter than expected. Which still wasn't very smart.

“Once I own the town and the park,” Ray said, “I'll own them. Until then, I gotta keep busting myself here.”

YOU WILL OWN THE PARK SOON
.

“Can't be too soon for me.” Ray turned and walked back down the midway, puffing on his cigar.

Kharos watched him go, thinking,
IT CAN'T BE TOO SOON FOR ME, EITHER
. He tried to go back to dreaming of all those hopeless souls coming to Dreamland, coming right to him, the way it had been at the very beginning, but there was too much power awakened in him now. Twenty-five hundred years was a long time to wait to rule again, but soon it would be time, time to escape, time to destroy the Guardia, time to take what was his. . . .

Two weeks . . .

W
hen Mab went down into the Dream Cream for breakfast, Cindy was already there, dressed in her pink-and-white-striped DC T-shirt and turquoise-and-blue-striped apron, her short curly black hair making her look like a very pretty, no-nonsense poodle as she beamed at the five customers who'd wandered in during a Thursday morning in the off-season: a mother and her two little kids at the table in front of the jukebox; a fair-haired guy in black-rimmed Coke-bottle glasses eating whole-wheat waffles and ice cream while he wrote in a notebook, his green trilby hat on the table beside him; and a younger guy with good shoulders at the end of the counter, staring at his bowl of waffles and cream in disbelief. Most people looked like that after their first taste of Cindy's ice cream, so Mab ignored him and sat down at the middle of the counter.

“Hey.” Cindy flipped up the lid on one of the waffle-makers as its light began to blink, pried out two waffles, and dropped them on a plate. Then she opened the freezer case, scooped pale yellow ice cream on one waffle, and slapped the other one on top. She set it in front of Mab with a fork and a spoon. “Did I miss something last night? Because this morning, I found a bloody towel in the trash. You kill somebody?”