Scott Westerfeld - Touching Darkness

Maybe the truth was a mix of both stories. Jessica wondered if the Ladies’ Anti-Tenebrosity League had ever invited any Native Americans to its ice-cream socials. According to the lore, the ancient people here had fought the darklings for thousands of years, but maybe they’d been cut out of the secret society after white settlers took over the town. According to Rex, that was pretty much the way everything else had worked back then.

Had the lore ended and Bixby lost all its midnighters just because of broken treaties and old scores being settled?

“Sounds horrible,” Jessica said. “But also really interesting. Thanks.”

Constanza picked up Jessica’s textbook. “But wait, you’re taking world history. Who are you writing this for again?”

Jessica glanced at the book. A world map stretched across its cover, the Oklahoma flag nowhere in sight. “Um, I’m not really writing a report. I just got interested because I met this guy… well, didn’t really meet him. I doubt he’d remember me. But I think he was related to you…”

“Who?”

“Uh, do you have a cousin named… Ernesto?”

Constanza laughed. “Ernesto? What? Did he hit on you?”

“No!” Jessica felt herself blushing, thinking, stalked, yes… hit on, no.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed.” Constanza giggled. “He hits on everyone, but he’s a sweetheart, really. In fact, if you want to meet him properly, he’s picking me up from school today.”

Jessica swallowed. “He is?”

“Yeah, we’re all headed out to Broken Arrow to stay with Granddad for a couple of days. The old guy’s even more freaked out than my parents because of the you-know-what last night. Brings back bad memories.”

“Sure, bad memories. Ernesto’s coming here?”

“Yeah, he sneaks into Bixby sometimes to visit me. He even owns an investment house out in…” Constanza’s face grew thoughtful. “Las Colonias! How spooky is that?”

“Very.” Jessica leaned back in her chair, a prickly feeling coming over her. Her stalker was coming here, to school.

“So, you want a ride home? You’ll like him. And he’s a total babe, isn’t he?”

“Um, no. Jonathan’s driving me home today.” Jessica hoped he’d brought his father’s car.

“Where’d you meet Ernesto, anyway? And why all the interest?”

Jessica shrugged. “I guess it was in Broken Arrow or Tulsa? He was taking pictures of… something, and I just overhead his last name. So I thought I’d ask you.”

“About my entire family history?” Constanza shook her head, laughing. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises, Jessica Day.” She winked. “I’ll tell him he has a secret admirer.”

“Great.” Jessica managed to smile.

The lunchroom produced an incessant whine in her head, like the sound of a buzz saw going through a box of rats. Melissa could hear the keen of spinning metal, the tearing of defenseless cardboard, and the screech of little mammals scrambling to get on top of each other. Strange—the dessert was chocolate pudding today, which usually tamped down the desperation until the sugar rushes hit. It was probably the gray, slimy chicken livers filling everyone with trapped and panicky thoughts.

Eight more months of eating this crap! she kept hearing.

Melissa turned up the volume in her headphones, but the screeching guitars only made things worse. She closed her eyes and visualized a barrier around her mind, but it crumbled under a fresh onslaught of anxieties: the chocolate pudding was running out.

She’d been letting her guard down lately in school, expecting things to be easy, as if connecting with Rex was going to save her from Bixby High. That was what happened when you let somebody in—everybody else tried to get in too.

Of course, maybe it could also work the other way around…

Melissa gritted her teeth and turned the tape player off. At first, the whirlwind in her head redoubled without the edge of heavy metal to cut it. But Melissa took a deep breath and let herself stop fighting the cacophony of voices. That was what had finally worked with Rex: allowing the flood of alien thoughts to sweep through her, trusting her own mind to still be there when the assault was over.

For a horrible moment she felt herself being erased, overwhelmed by the crowd, drowning in their petty squabbles over prime seats and chocolate pudding. But slowly, just as when she and Rex touched each other, she came back to herself, regaining her footing despite the storm.

Melissa opened her eyes and held out a hand in front of her face. It hardly trembled, though her fingers were bone white from desperately clenching her fist the moment before. She took another deep breath and, for the first time ever in the cafeteria, pulled the headphones off.

No one noticed. They were all listening raptly to Jessica.

“The rest of her family never comes into town. Constanza’s grandfather threatened to cut them out of his will if they ever set foot in Bixby. They’re totally afraid to even drive through!”

Well, Melissa thought, Jessica has finally gotten up the nerve to ask Constanza Grayfoot a few simple questions. Give the girl a round of applause.

“All of them live over in Broken Arrow,” Jessica continued, then shot Dess a puzzled glance. “Like you said they might…”

Even through the lunchroom bedlam, Melissa tasted the strange response that bubbled up in Dess’s brain—satisfaction at having been proven right, followed by momentary confusion. Then her thoughts subsided back into the mass.

Interesting.

Jessica plowed ahead. “Anyway, the main thing is the timing. Her grandfather left Bixby about fifty years ago, right when the lore stopped.”

She paused to beam at Rex, extremely proud of herself for noticing the obvious. At least in the din of the cafeteria Melissa didn’t have to taste Jessica’s enthusiasm. Last night her metallic flame-bringer flavor had gone off the charts, choking Melissa like a mouthful of new pennies. In fact, Melissa had felt midnight itself shudder, all the way out to the old, fetid minds in the mountains.

The darklings had every right to be afraid of Jessica Day: her talent tore straight through the fabric of the secret hour. And she enjoyed the hell out of it. Her green eyes were still wild and gleaming as she delivered more of the profound intelligence she’d collected.

“Because he moved here, her dad doesn’t get told much about the family business. There’s only one Grayfoot who ever comes here from Broken Arrow. And guess what his name is.”

They all sat looking at her stupidly.

“Ernesto?” Flyboy finally managed. It was so cute when couples finished each other’s sentences. And what was with Jessica? She was touching Jonathan like a monkey picking nits to eat. His vague discomfort with the touchy-feely contact didn’t rise above the din, but you could see it on his face.

“Exactly.” Jessica leaned back and draped her hand over Jonathan’s shoulder.

“Well, that all makes sense,” Rex said. “But Constanza’s father isn’t totally in the dark. I found something interesting on his desk.” He pulled out the folder he’d pinched and went on to explain the vision Melissa had prized from Angie’s head.

Melissa stopped listening and wondered if anyone was going to bring up the really big question about last night: How the hell had Jonathan and Jessica found their way to Constanza’s?

Melissa had felt the two shooting down the highway, their minds tentative and frustrated, like new freshmen trying to figure out the way to the temporary classrooms. Then suddenly something had clicked into place, filling both their heads with surety and purpose. A flash of inspiration out of nowhere, dumping the information into their empty heads.