Night World.
The Chosen.
by Lisa J Smith.
CHAPTER 1.
It happened at Rashel"s birthday party, the day she turned five years old.
"Can we go in the tubes?" She was having her birthday at a carnival and it h ad the biggest climbing structure of tubes and slides she had ever seen.
Her mother smiled. "Okay, kitten, but take care of Timmy. He"s not as fast a s you are."
They were the last words her mother ever said to her.
Rashel didn"t have to be told, though. She always took care of Timmy: he w as a whole month younger than she was, and he wasn"t even going to kinderg arten next year. He had silky black hair, blue eyes, and a very sweet smil e. Rashel had dark hair, too, but her eyes were green-green as emeralds, M ommy always said. Green as a cat"s.
As they climbed through the tubes she kept glancing back at him, and when th ey got to a long row of vinyl-padded stairs-slippery and easy to slide off o f-she held out a hand to help him up.
Timmy beamed at her, his tilted blue eyes shining with adoration. When they had both crawled to the top of the stairs, Rashel let go of his hand.
She was heading toward the spider web, a big room made entirely of rope an d net. Every so often she glanced through a fish-bowl window in one of the tubes and saw her mother waving at her from below. But then another mothe r came to talk to hers and Rashel stopped looking out. Parents never seeme d to be able to talk and wave at the same time.
She concentrated on getting through the tubes, which smelled like plastic wi th a hint of old socks. She pretended she was a rabbit in a tunnel. And she kept an eye on Timmy-until they got to the base of the spider web.
It was far in the back of the climbing structure. There were no other kids aro und, big or little, and almost no noise. A white rope with knots at regular in tervals stretched above Rashel, higher and higher, leading to the web itself.
"Okay, you stay here, and I"ll go up and see how you do it," she said to Tim my. This was a sort of fib. The truth was that she didn"t think Timmy could make it, and if she waited for him, neither of them would get up.
"No, I don"t want you to go without me," Timmy said. There was a touch of a nxiety in his voice.
"It"s oilly going to take a second," Rashel said. She knew what he was afra id of, and she added, "No big kids are going to come and push you."
Timmy still looked doubtful. Rashel said thoughtfully, "Don"t you want ic e cream cake when we get back to my house?"
It wasn"t even a veiled threat. Timmy looked confused, then sighed heavily a nd nodded. "Okay. I"ll wait."
And those were the last words Rashel heard him say.
She climbed the rope. It was even harder than she"d thought it would be, but when she got to the top it was wonderful. The whole world was a squiggly moving ma.s.s of netting. She had to hang on with both hands to keep her bala nce and try to curl her feet around the rough quivering lengths of cable. S he could feel the air and sunlight. She laughed with exhilaration and bounc ed, looking at the colored plastic tubes all around her.
When she looked back down for Timmy, he was gone.
Rashel"s stomach tensed. He had to be there. He"d promised to wait.
But he wasn"t. She could see the entire padded room below the spider web f rom here, and it was empty.
Okay, he must have gone back through the tubes. Rashel made her way, stagg ering and swaying, from one handhold to another until she got to the rope.
Then she climbed down quickly and stuck her head in a tube, blinking in th e dimness.
"Timmy?" Her voice was a m.u.f.fled echo. There was no answer and what she could see of the tube was empty. "Timmy!"
Rashel was getting a very bad feeling in her stomach. In her head, she kep t hearing her mother say, Take care of Timmy. But she hadn"t taken care of him. And he could be anywhere by now, lost in the giant structure, maybe crying, maybe getting shoved around by big kids. Maybe even going to tell her mother.
That was when she saw the gap in the padded room.
It was just big enough for a four-year-old or a very slim five-year-old to get through. A s.p.a.ce between two cushiony walls that led to the outside.
And Rashel knew immediately that it was where Timmy had gone. It was like him to take the quickest way out. He was probably on his way to her mother right now.
Rashel was a very slim five-year-old. She wiggled through the gap, only sti cking once. Then she was outside, breathless in the dusty shade.
She was about to head toward the front of the climbing structure when she not iced the tent flap fluttering.
The tent was made of shiny vinyl and its red and yellow stripes were much br ighter than the plastic tubes. The loose flap moved in the breeze and Rashel saw that anyone could just lift it and walk inside.
Timmy wouldn"t have gone in there, she thought. It wouldn"t be like him at all. But somehow Rashel had an odd feeling.
She stared at the flap, hesitating, smelling dust and popcorn in the air. I"m brave, she told herself, and sidled forward. She pushed on the tent beside the flap to widen the gap, and she stretched her neck and peered inside.
It was too dark to see anything, but the smell of popcorn was stronger. Rashe l moved farther and farther until she was actually in the tent. And then her eyes adjusted and she realized that she wasn"t alone.There was a tall man in the tent. He was wearing a long light-colored trenc h coat, even though it was warm outside. He didn"t seem to notice Rashel be cause he had something in his arms, and his head was bent down to it, and h e was doing something to it.
And then Rashel saw what he was doing and she knew that the grown-ups had lied when they said ogres and monsters and the things in fairy-tale books weren"t real.
Because the tall man had Timmy, and he was eating him.
CHAPTER 2.
Bating him or doing something with his teeth. Tearing and sucking. Making noises like Pal did when he ate his dog food.
For a moment Rashel was frozen. The whole world had changed and everythi ng seemed like a dream. Then she heard somebody screaming and her throat hurt and she knew it was her.
And then the tall man looked at her.
He lifted his head and looked. And she knew that his face alone was going t o give her nightmares forever.
Not that he was ugly. But he had hair as red as blood and eyes that shone gol d, like an animal"s. There was a light in them that was like nothing she had ever seen.
She ran then. It was wrong to leave Timmy, but she was too scared to stay. S he wasn"t brave; she was a baby, but she couldn"t help it. She was still scr eaming as she turned around and darted through the flap in the tent.
Almost darted through. Her head and shoulders got outside and she saw the r ed plastic tubes rising above her-and then a hand clamped on the back of he r Gymboree shirt. A big strong hand that stopped her in midflight. Rashel w as as helpless as a baby kitten against it.
But just as she was dragged back into the tent, she saw something. Her mot her. Her mother was coming around the corner of the climbing structure. Sh e"d heard Rashel screaming.
Her mother"s eyes were big and her mouth was open, and she was moving fa st. She was coming to save Rashel.
"Mommeeeeeeeee!" Rashel screamed, and then she was back inside the tent.
The man threw her to one side the way a kid at preschool would throw a pi ece of crumpled paper. Rashel landed hard and felt a pain in her leg that normally would have made her cry. Now she hardly noticed it. She was sta ring at Timmy, who was lying on the ground near her.
Timmy looked strange. His body was like a rag doll"s-arms and legs flopped o ut. His skin was white. His eyes were staring straight up at the top of the tent.
There were two big holes in his throat, with blood all around them.Rashel whimpered. She was too frightened to scream anymore. But just the n she saw white daylight, and a figure in front of it. Mommy. Mommy was pulling the tent flap open. Mommy was inside, looking around for Rashel.
That was when the worst thing happened. The worst and the strangest, the th ing the police never believed when Rashel told them later.
Rashel saw her mother"s mouth open, saw her mother looking at her, about to say something. And then she heard a voice-but it wasn"t Mommy"s voice.
And it wasn"t an out-loud voice. It was inside her head.
Wait! There"s nothing wrong here. But you need to stand very, very still.
Rashel looked at the tall man. His mouth wasn"t moving, but the voice was his. Her mother was looking at him, too, and her expression was changing, becoming relaxed and . . . stupid. Mommy was standing very, very still.
Then the tall man hit Mommy once on the side of the neck and she fell over and her head flopped the wrong way like a broken doll. Her dark hair was ly ing in the dirt.
Rashel saw that and then everything was even more like a dream. Her moth er was dead. Timmy was dead. And the man was looking at her.
You"re not upset, came the voice in her head. You "re not frightened. You wa nt to come right here.
Rashel could feel the pull of the voice. It was drawing her closer and clos er. It was making her still and not afraid, making her forget her mother. B ut then she saw the tall man"s golden eyes and they were hungry. And all of a sudden she remembered what he wanted to do to her.
Not me!
She jerked away from the voice and dove for the tent flap again.
This time she got all the way outside. And she threw herself straight at the g ap in the climbing structure.
She was thinking in a different way than she had ever thought before. The Rashel that had watched Mommy fall was locked away in a little room insi de her, crying. It was a new Rashel who wiggled desperately through the g ap in the padded room, a smart Rashel who knew that there was no point in crying because there was n.o.body who cared anymore. Mommy couldn"t save h er, so she had to save herself.
She felt a hand grab her ankle, hard enough almost to crush her bones. It y anked, trying to drag her back through the gap. Rashel kicked backward with all her strength and then twisted, and her sock came off and she pulled he r leg into the padded room.
Come back! You need to come back right now!
The voice was like a teacher"s voice. It was hard not to listen. But Rashel wa s already scrambling into the plastic tube in front of her. She went faster th an she ever had before, hurting her knees, propelling herself with her bare fo ot.When she got to the first fish-bowl window, I though, she saw a face looking in at her.
It was the tall man. He was staring at her. He I banged on the plastic as she went by.
Fear cracked in Rashel like a belt. She scrambled I faster, and the knocks on the tube followed her.
He was underneath her now. Keeping up with I her. Rashel pa.s.sed another window an d looked down. She could see his hair shining in the sunlight. She could see his pale face looking up at her. And his eyes.
Come down, came the voice and it wasn"t stem anymore. It was sweet. Come down and we"ll go get some ice cream. What kind of ice cream do you like best? Rashel knew then that this was how he"d gotten Timmy into the tent.
She didn"t even pause in her scrambling.
But she couldn"t get away from him. He was traveling with her, just under he r, waiting for her to come out or get to a place where he could reach in and grab her.
Higher. I need to get higher, she thought.
She moved instinctively, as if some sixth sense was telling her which way to turn each time she had a choice. She went through angled tubes, straight tu bes, tubes that weren"t solid at all, but made of woven canvas strips. And f inally she got to a place where she couldn"t go any higher.
It was a square room with a padded floor and netting sides. She was at the fr ont of the climbing structure; she could see mothers and fathers standing and sitting in little groups. She could feel the wind.
Below her, looking up, was the tall man.
Chocolate brownie? Mint chip? Bubble gum?
The voice was putting pictures in her mind. Tastes. Rashel looked around fra ntically.
There was so much noise-every kid in the climbing structure was yelling. W ho would even notice her if she shouted? They"d think she was joking aroun d.
All you have to do is come down. You know you have to come down somet ime.
Rashel looked into the pale face turned up to her. The eyes were like dark ho les. Hungry. Patient. Certain.
He knew he was going to get her.
He was going to win. She had no way to fight him.
And then something tore inside Rashel and she did the only thing a five-year -old could do against an adult.
She shoved her hand between the rough cords that made the netting, sc.r.a.pin g off skin. She pushed her whole small arm through and she pointed down at the tall man.
And she screamed in a way she"d never screamed before. Piercing shrieks tha t cut through the happy noise of the other kids. She screamed the way Ms. B ruce at preschool had taught her to do if any stranger ever bothered her.
"Help meeee! Help meeee! That man tried to touch me I"
She kept screaming it, kept pointing. And she saw people look at her.
But they didn"t do anything. They just stared. Lots of faces, looking up at her. n.o.body moving.
In a way, it was even worse than anything that had happened before. They c ould hear her, but n.o.body was going to help her.