F. Wilson - Secret Histories

Weezy was staring out the window. “I wish I knew if they were finding anything.”

Jack waved a hand in front of her face. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No. I real y want to know.” She looked at him. “But I real y want out of this car too. So let’s go home.”

That was a relief. For a minute there he’d been afraid she’d want to stay.

“Okay. Get ready, Eddie. I’l tel you when.”

Jack fixed his gaze on the trooper and the suit … waiting … waiting …

And then pine lights appeared, half a dozen of them, swirling above and around the helicopters. Jack had seen a couple once. No one knew what they

were—bal lightning, some people said—but every so often they appeared, varying from basebal to basketbal size, skimming along the treetops.

What had drawn them here? The light? The noise?

Everyone around the excavation stopped what they were doing to point and look up, and then Jack realized his time had come.

“Now!”

Eddie opened the door and tumbled out, Weezy close behind him. Jack brought up the rear and swung the door closed—enough to turn out the light but

not enough to latch it. With al the racket from the helicopters he probably could have slammed it with no risk of anyone hearing, but didn’t want to risk it.

So he leaned his shoulder against it until he felt the latch catch.

He turned and saw Eddie in a low crouch, disappearing into the brush a few feet away. But Weezy stood tal , gazing in awe at the pine lights.

“Look, Jack! I’ve seen one or a pair at a time, but six— never six!”

“Worry about them later. Let’s go!”

He grabbed her arm and pul ed her into the brush.

Fifty feet or so into the woods the excavation site disappeared behind them and it was safe to walk upright.

“Did you see them?” Weezy said. “Six pine—”

She broke off, whirled, and put a hand over Jack’s mouth. Eddie’s too.

“Don’t move,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Jack froze. What? Had she seen or heard something?

And then Jack saw it—a dark shape slinking among the pines. If it was a man, it didn’t move like one. A breeze carried its sour odor their way and the

smel made Jack break out in a sweat. Al his instincts screamed Run! but he held his position. The shape slunk toward the excavation area. About a

dozen feet short of the fire trail it stopped and crouched among the brush and trees, watching.

Who or what it was, Jack couldn’t tel , and didn’t want to know.

The excavation seemed to be attracting a lot of attention from things that came out only at night.

Weezy removed her hands and signaled them to fol ow her. She moved slowly and quietly away from the watcher and the excavation. The farther they

got, the faster she moved. Cutting quickly through the brush and weaving among the trees on a curving course that seemed to be taking them away from

the fire trail and their bikes. But Jack said nothing. He didn’t see much choice but to trust her sense of direction.

He was lost.

Just when he thought they’d never find their way out, when he was convinced they’d wind up like those hunters who entered the Barrens and never

returned, they stepped out of the trees onto a fire trail.

But which fire trail?

Jack’s heart leaped as he watched Weezy hurry across to where three bikes leaned against the trees.

Yes!

He dashed after her.

“What was that thing in the woods?”

“I don’t know. A big piney maybe.”

“Th-that was the Jersey Devil!” Eddie said. “I just know it!”

Weezy, who bought into every other weird thing, had never bought into the JD.

She looked at Jack as they pul ed their bikes back onto the trail. “I don’t believe you got us out of that car.”

“I don’t believe you led us right back to the bikes. We make a pretty good team.”

She laughed and punched him on the shoulder. “You kidding? We make a great team.”

The way she said it sparked a flood of warmth inside him, but it didn’t last. Nerves doused it. They had to get out of here.

No one needed to speak again. They al knew what to do, and where they were going.

Once they were moving toward Johnson, with the sound of the copters fading behind them, Jack’s heart began to ease its pounding.

He glanced over his shoulder. No sign of headlights.

They’d made it.

Wel , not completely. Not yet, anyway.

They’d be home free if the trooper remained where they’d left him. If he just stayed put, watching those pine lights, he wouldn’t know they were gone. He

could look al he wanted, but from that distance he couldn’t see into the dark interior of his cruiser. As far as he knew, they couldn’t open the doors, so he’d

assume the “dumb piney kids” were right where he’d left them.

Another over-the-shoulder look—stil no headlights.

Jack wished he could have hung around to see the look on that suit’s face when he found out they were gone.

Where’s your sneer now?

They were passing the trapper’s spong. Great. Halfway home. He took another look behind and—

He almost lost control of the bike when he saw a pair of headlights bouncing down the trail, coming their way.

He looked around. Even though a car could go only so fast without bottoming out on these undulating trails, it could stil beat a bike. No way they could

outrun it.

“Hey!” he shouted to the others. “They’re after us!”

He heard a frightened whine from Eddie and Weezy cry, “Faster!”

“No! Pul off the trail and hide the bikes!”

“They’l catch us for sure!” Eddie wailed.

“Maybe, maybe not. I don’t think they’ve seen us yet. But they wil if we stay on the trail.”

Weezy angled into a stand of pines at the far edge of the spong clearing. Jack and Eddie fol owed, hauling their bikes into the brush and laying them

flat.

“Tires toward the trail,” Jack said.

Eddie obeyed but asked, “Why?”

“Because tires are black.”

“Oh, no,” Weezy said. “I’ve got reflectors on my spokes.”

“Do they pop off?”

“They’re screwed on.”

Not good.

“Okay,” Jack said, “we’ve got to get away from the bikes.” He pointed to another copse of pines at the other end of the clearing. “There!”

Eddie’s gaze was fixed on the approaching headlights. “But that’s going toward them!”

Weezy pushed her brother from behind. “Exactly. The last direction they’l expect us to go.”

Keeping low, they dashed for the copse and crouched among the trunks, panting, waiting. Jack’s bladder was sending urgent signals that it wanted to

empty. He did his best to ignore it.

He saw the wavering glow from the headlights grow brighter as the cruiser bounced closer. Final y it pul ed into view.

“Move along,” he whispered, wishing he knew how to use the Force. “Move along. Nothing of interest here.”

If the cruiser passed the hidden bikes without seeing them, it would keep going, and Weezy, Eddie, and Jack could fol ow it at a distance, keeping it

wel ahead of them.

The cruiser bounced closer to the bikes … came even with them …

“Keep moving,” Jack whispered. “Keep moving—”

The brake lights came on. The car stopped. Went into reverse. Backed up paral el to the stand of trees.

“Oh-no, oh-no, oh-no,” Eddie whimpered.

“Hush!” Weezy said, then looked at Jack. “Had to be those reflectors on my spokes—sorry.”

He was about to tel her it couldn’t be helped when a spotlight beamed from the cruiser onto the bikes. The car backed up farther, the light shining into