Scott Westerfeld: Touching Darkness

Donald Day didn’t see the look, though. He never did.

“I saw a dust devil last night,” Jessica said, trying to break the tension.

“Last night?” Beth asked sweetly.

Jessica looked down, buttering her toast. “Night before last, I mean. On the way home from school. It was really big, like a hundred feet tall.”

“This is tornado country,” Dad said, his paper rustling as he looked up. “It’s because of the Coriolis force. I saw this thing on the Weather Channel—”

Beth groaned. “Not the Weather Channel again.”

Jessica stuffed toast into her mouth. Unemployment had caused her father to become addicted to some strange activities.

“What’s wrong with the Weather Channel?” he asked.

“Two words, Dad: weather… channel .”

He ignored her. “Anyway, the Coriolis force is caused by the earth rotating under us, leaving the air behind. It makes the wind blow harder in flat places like Oklahoma; there’s nothing to stop it.”

Jessica blinked. “Actually, that makes sense.” Maybe that was why wind didn’t blow in the secret hour: the earth had stopped spinning beneath Bixby.

Beth was staring at her, annoyed that Jessica was showing any interest. She just assumed her big sister was sucking up. “Yeah, Jess, like we never had any wind back in Chicago.”

The phone rang. Before Jessica could move an inch, Beth had spun around in her chair and reached up to answer it.

“Is that for me?” Mom looked at her watch and pulled a leather bag onto her shoulder, turning away from the fresh coffee she’d started.

“No, it’s for Jessica.” Beth held out the phone sweetly. “Someone called Hank?”

Jessica managed a thin smile. “Hank” was Jonathan’s code name when he called her house. Jessica was pretty sure Beth didn’t know this yet, but her little sister always acted like she knew something, just on principle.

“I’ll take it in the hall. Bye, Mom.”

Jessica didn’t say anything until she heard the reassuring click that meant Beth was off the line.

“Hello?”

Jonathan’s voice was ragged, like he was coming down with a cold, but it was good to hear him. He told her what had happened the night before, about the man driving away right after the secret hour ended. Then the big news: he’d been taking pictures at the exact moment of midnight.

“So, he knows,” she said softly. “He has to.”

There was a pause. “I guess so.”

“Okay, I’ll go tell Rex about it today.” Jessica sighed. She could let her father believe that she was going to Rex’s to study, although it would probably count as her one event per week of ungroundedness. Of course, anything was better than being stuck in the house all day with Beth, who still seemed to have found no friends here yet and envied her older sister for the ones she had.

“I’ll go with you,” Jonathan said.

“Really?” she exclaimed, but her happiness faded quickly The fact that Jonathan was willing to put up with Rex Greene’s company just showed how serious the situation was.

Jessica Day had human enemies now.

“Believe me,” Jonathan said, “you don’t want to go to Rex’s alone.”

“That’s comforting.”

“You know where he lives?”

She didn’t. Now that she thought of it, Jessica had never been to any of the other midnighters’ houses, not even Jonathan’s. Between the lethal dangers of the secret hour and the inconvenience of being grounded, there hadn’t been time for just hanging out. Normal life was still on hold—frozen.

Jonathan gave her the address and they agreed to meet in an hour.

As Jessica put the phone down, she glanced down the hall at the front door window. The day looked bright and cold. She shivered, realizing that the man might be out there at this very moment. At least when darklings had been stalking her, she’d had twenty-four hours of safety every day. But now the daylight had been invaded.

She’d only felt secure here in Bixby for one week before everything had changed again. Now it was back to danger mode.

From the kitchen she heard her sister’s voice. “Face it, Dad. There’s no Coriolis force. Oklahoma just blows.”

Jessica stopped her bike and stared at Rex Greene’s house, which sat forlornly on the street, crowded by newer homes on either side, the front lawn reduced to dying patches of brown.

The place looked empty, as if it had been abandoned for years. But Rex’s father had answered the phone an hour before. He’d said that Rex was there and then hung up, not bothering to get him. From the other midnighters Jessica had gotten the impression that something was wrong with the old man, but no one had ever said exactly what.

She looked at her watch, still an hour fast from keeping time during the secret hour, and wished that Jonathan would show up already. She didn’t want to face the weirdness of Rex’s father alone.

“Jessica!”

She jumped, whirling to face the sound before realizing who it was.

“Man, Jonathan. You scared me.”

He emerged from behind the aging oak that cast an ominous shadow across most of the front yard. “Sorry.”

His voice was very scratchy. “I was kind of… hiding, in case your dad drove you. I didn’t want him to see me.”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “Not that he knows what you look like. Anyway, ever since he and Mom decided that I was only mostly grounded, he hasn’t been as paranoid.” Although as predicted, Dad had counted this visit as Jessica’s weekly get-out-of-jail-free card. She hoped that her mother would overturn the ruling after work tonight if she wasn’t too exhausted.

Jessica walked her bike up to the sagging front porch and began to lock it to the iron rail.

“You don’t really have to do that here,” Jonathan said.

Jessica threaded the chain through her spokes and snapped it shut. “Humor me. Big-city habits die hard. Besides, I like to have Anfractuously around.”

“ ‘Anfractuously’? That’s your bike lock’s name?”

“Thirteen letters. And because you’re about to ask, it means ‘snakily.’ ”

Jonathan blinked. “ ‘Snakily’? Did Dess come up with that?”

“Who else?” She clicked the lock into place. The way its metal links coiled through the frame of her bike did kind of remind her of a snake.

When she turned back to Jonathan, he stepped forward and gathered her into a long hug. She pressed against him, enjoying the warm solidity of his body. In the midnight hour Jonathan felt so slight, almost fragile in his weightlessness, as if he weren’t really there. Midnight might allow them to fly, but in some ways it cheated her of Jonathan’s substance.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Sure. Not much sleep. How about you? You sound like you’re getting sick.”

He shrugged. “Forgot to bring a jacket last night. It was a cold walk home.”

“Oh my God.” She looked up at him. “I forgot…” She hadn’t thought of Jonathan walking home—she never imagined him walking anywhere. “But it was freezing last night.”

He smiled and croaked, “Tell me about it.”

Jessica stared at the ground. She’d been afraid, but at least she’d been warm and inside. It was miles back to his house. She looked up into his brown eyes and said quietly, “You know, you could have come—”

The front screen door was wrenched open with a shrieking of rusty springs.

“Where are they? You seen them anywhere?”

They both turned to face the clamor. Emerging from the dilapidated house was an old man, his face weather-lined and unshaven. Hands shaking wildly, he spread his fingers and stared down at the porch, grasping at something invisible.