The Night Children Page 3

  “I want Daddy.”

  “Shh, honey. Shhh.” Aunt Christy hugged her too hard, rocking back and forth with her chin in Jule’s hair. “Come on.”

  It’s hard to keep your mind on anything when you’re that small. They went to the Grand Opening. Jule had a bouquet of balloons tied to her wrist and she was crying with her mouth full of candy. She can still taste the peppermint running down. At the base of the WhirlyFun-Ride Aunt Christy hugged her and pointed up. “Look. Isn’t it wonderful? Your mommy and daddy made the plans!”

  “Mommy?” Jule whipped her head around. “Dad? Are they here?”

  “Just look at the WhirlyFunRide, honey, and be proud.”

  “I want my . . .”

  “Hush, sweetie,” Aunt Christy said, and even at that age Jule could tell her aunt was being brave. “I’m your mommy now. Shush and when you’re a big girl, we’ll get into one of those nice glass cars on that great big ride, and go around and up and up, to the very top!”

  Willful Jule threw back her head and bawled. “I want to go now!” She cried and cried. Men came. Aunt Christy had to put her on the WhirlyFunRide just to get her to stop. She got on the WhirlyFunRide and went up so high that she started to feel better. It was so exciting that for a minute, she forgot.

  Then they hit the top. From the top she could see everything: the sky above, the prairie, the town beyond and, like dots crossing the massive park that led from the parking lot, the people flocking to the MegaMall. Astonished, she shouted, “I see them, I think I see them!” And she almost could.

  “Shh,” Aunt Christy said. “That’s better. Sit down. Hush. Be good, and the mall will take care of you.”

  In a funny way, it has. She and her aunt still come out here whenever they can. Or they did until last weekend, when they had the fight. It was a stupid fight. They didn’t make up before they went to bed the way you’re supposed to, and when Jule woke up the next morning Aunt Christy was gone.

  Maybe it’s her fault, for losing the phone. Aunt Christy was so mad that she shouted, “This is the fourth cell phone I’ve paid for, Juliette, and it’s the last. Do you know how much these things cost?”

  She stuck out her lower lip. “It’s only a phone!”

  For no reason, her aunt’s eyes filled up. “I have to keep track of you.” Aunt Christy was so upset that she practically shrieked, “How am I supposed to take care of you?”

  “You only use it to boss me around!”

  Then her Aunt Christy got very weird. Her voice got low and urgent, as if she was scared to death somebody would overhear. “We have to stay in touch!”

  Yeah, Jule thinks sleepily. Drowsing in the glass capsule, she forgets she isn’t home in bed. Yeah, right.

  Then she jolts awake. The great wheel is shaking—no it’s not a dream, and it’s not her imagination. It’s . . . Wait! She sees the Maglite’s reflection jiggling in the dome above.

  Wait. There is something happening far below. Something or somebody is down there in the dark. She lies rigid, gripping the bench seat like a shipwreck victim clinging to a raft.

  A jerk rattles the car as far below, machinery comes alive.

  “What!” she shouts.

  The big wheel starts to move.

  Then she whispers, “Who?”

  Should she be afraid or should she be glad somebody’s come to rescue her?

  Are they here to rescue her?

  Who are they, and what do they want? She doesn’t know. Frightened, Jule turns off the powerful pencil flash and kneels on the bench seat, peering out. At first she can’t see what lies below. The wheel’s too big, the capsule is too high. Then as her transparent car descends, she sees a ring of flickering lights bobbing at the base of the slowly turning wheel.

  At this distance it’s magical, like a fairy circle. Beautiful, unless it’s the scariest thing she’s ever seen. More lights come drifting in from the perimeter. Weaving like lazy fireflies, others join the circle around the platform where, one after another, the WhirlyFunRide capsules come to a stop.

  Jule’s mouth forms an O but no sound comes out. Who? Are they mall Security or a rescue party or what? What if she’s blundered into some huge secret that somebody at Zozzco is trying to hide? What will they do to her? She’s afraid to find out.

  Stupid, leaving the Maglite on like a great big HELLO sign. The people down below may not know who Jule is, but the light tells them somebody is here. She switches it off.

  If she gets under the seat right now; if she lies on the floor, maybe they’ll forget which capsule the light came from. Like, how can they be sure? For all the times she’s ridden the giant wheel, Jule never thought to count how many cars there are. Too many to search, she thinks, and shudders because she has no idea who is searching, or what they want.

  There are worse things than being stuck at the top.

  Like coming down.

  Light rakes the glass top of the little car and Jule gasps. The big wheel jolts as cars reach the bottom one by one and some unknown person who’s not very good at machinery brings each car skidding to the platform. Doors open and slam. They’re looking. They are looking for her.

  Whoever they are, they are thorough. And they’re taking their time. Jule’s car sinks closer to the platform with every jolt. She hears voices and the angry slap as doors slam on empty cars.

  What are they going to do, crack her out like a baby chick? Are they here to save her or arrest her or do they want to pick up a mallet and smash her like an egg?

  Cram yourself under the seat, Jule Devereaux. Hide.

  Then the car hits the platform and she gasps. The door pops open and cold air rushes in. Jule crouches, shielding her eyes against the glaring halogen lamp. Outside people are arguing.

  Somebody growls, “Get out.”

  She sits up. Gulping, she says with dignity, “Get that thing out of my eyes.”

  Somebody bangs a fist into her shoulder. A man with a light voice—or a kid with a deep one—says, “Shut up and get out.”

  If you can’t hide, be brave. Jule is trying hard for a ferocious scowl but she has no idea what her face is doing. With her head high, she gets out. Unsteady, she stands as proud as she can after hours on the bench seat. She takes a deep breath. When it comes out, Jule’s voice is bigger than she is.

  She snaps, “Identify yourselves.”

  Light blinds her. Somebody giggles. There is nasty snickering.

  Brave, Mom and Dad would be proud of her for sounding so brave. Jule barks, “What do you want with me?”

  FOUR

  IT’S SCARY OUT, AND Doakie Jinks is running, running, running. The first thing he learned about living in the mall was how to keep track, so he can find his way back from anyplace. Tick taught him. Kids have to know.

  He has to get home!

  Hurry, they might be chasing you!

  Ooops, silly. This way, not that way!

  Right. Not that corner, right around this corner, and whatever you do, stay away from the Dark Hall. Up the down escalator, into this corridor. He almost has it memorized. Zigzag through the passage next to that store.

  He has to get home in a hurry. He has to find Tick. He has to get Tick and tell him the trouble before anything worse happens. He has to tell him soon!

  The trouble is, the corridors are long and the marble is slippery. Doakie’s legs are short and he’s so new here that when he turns a corner he isn’t always sure.

  He doesn’t even know how come he’s living here. He used to live in Dubuque with Mummy and Daddy, but then they broke up and Mummy moved to Castertown. She got a job and signed Doakie up for kindergarten. He’s starting next fall. Or he was.

  He doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him now.

  See, Doakie rode all the way out here on the shuttle with Mummy because she couldn’t get Grace to babysit, even though Grace is her new best friend.

  Well, he’s seen all about the great stuff for kids in the mall on television, and he really wanted to come
.

  Besides, it was the last day of the midsummer fur sales and Mummy was desperate. So they got here, it feels like a long time ago, but he thinks it was only the other week. Mummy said be patient, this won’t take long, she was just trying on coats. She said when they were done she would take Doakie to all the stores he wanted to see and get him a ticket on the WhirlyFunRide to make up for it. Now, that was before. See, Doakie’s been living here in the MegaMall practically forever and he only just saw the big ride for the first time tonight.

  If he knew where Doakie went, Tick would freak.

  How Doakie ended up living here is, when they got to the fur store Mummy promised they wouldn’t be long. She said sit here like a good boy, which he did, but the velvet bench was hard and she was taking forever. He got down and crawled around under the fur coat racks while Mummy tried on about a hundred dozen coats. He played like he was in the jungle making friends with tigers and bears but the fur coats weren’t alive, not really, until he pulled one down off the hanger and got inside. Mummy petted his head when he crawled out and growled at her, but she hardly noticed. She was too busy twirling in front of the three-way mirror in coats, and asking the lady did this one make her look fat. It always did. Then she’d sigh and drop it on the pile. She was taking forever. Doakie got bored so he crawled into the big pile of coats and went to sleep.

  The pile was warm and deep and cuddly, like a nest. Doakie slept and slept. When he woke up everything was dim and quiet, like the whole mall had gone to sleep too. The fur coat store was closed up for the night and everybody was gone. The store night-lights had turned everything pink.

  It was so weird that he wasn’t even scared.

  He was starving to death so he took a baby box of chocolates from the pile of gold boxes the store gave away to every lady that bought a fur coat. Then he had to pee. There was a ladies’ bathroom in the back of the store. Then he called for Mummy, just in case, but she wasn’t there, he supposes she forgot because in the big fur jacket, he looked like just another coat. She would remember and come back, but it was taking too long. He ought to phone home and remind her but he doesn’t know the number at their new house, plus he couldn’t make the store phone work. After a while he found the night-delivery slot and wormed out, into the great big empty MegaMall.

  When she didn’t come he stood out in front of the fur store and called and called.

  There were lots of rustles and echoes, that was all.

  Then he sat down and cried and cried.

  This big kid named Tick heard him crying, he supposes. Anyway, he looked up and all of a sudden Tick was there. This kid Tick is almost as tall as Daddy, but quick and skinny and nice. Light brown hair. He took Doakie by the hand so nicely that Doakie wasn’t even scared. He said, “Shhshh. Chill, OK? And whatever you do, keep it down!”

  All that was coming out of Doakie by that time was “Mmmmmmmm.”

  Tick didn’t fuss, he just held Doakie’s hand until he got quiet. Then he took Doakie to the Pirate Food Court and got him a soda and a hot dog still warm from the microwave, even though all the food stands were closed. Doakie was starving. When he got done eating he felt better. He stopped crying, at least.

  “That’s better,” Tick said. “My name is Tick.”

  Then Tick asked him what happened and Doakie said.

  Then Tick said, “You didn’t tell me your name,” and Doakie said.

  Then Tick asked where he lived and Doakie burst into tears because he and Mummy just moved here and he doesn’t know.

  Tick got him a soft ice cream and waited until he quit hic-hic-ing. Then he handed it over and waited while Doakie ate it all up.

  After that Tick got out this pocket computer thingy and turned it on. He said he was hacking into the system to find out if mall Security or the police had Doakie on the Missing list. He said he likes to help kids get back to their parents, but sometimes you just can’t.

  Doakie’s name wasn’t on any list, so Tick promised to take care of Doakie until Mummy came back or at least until she put his name on the Missing list.

  Then he brought Doakie home to the hideout and introduced him to the other kids, so Doakie is a Castertown Crazy now, Tick says, at least for the time being, which means he has a job to do. He just saw something and he has to run as fast as he can. Something bad is about to happen, he just knows it. He has to tell Tick. So would you, if you saw somebody in trouble.

  Tick will know what to do.

  He has to tell Tick so Tick will come and save her.

  It’s what he does.

  Doakie will probably get in trouble for sneaking out into the mall before Tick gave the All Clear, but maybe he’ll be too distracted by Doakie’s news to notice.

  The thing is, there are bad kids in the mall. Everybody in the Crazies knows this, but tonight . . . Tonight Doakie saw them up close, and they’re gonna do something awful. If Tick doesn’t stop them, Doakie doesn’t know what they’re gonna do, but he knows. He just knows. They caught a girl, and they’re gonna do something awful to her.

  Did they see him before he ducked and skibbled out? He doesn’t think so. He doesn’t know.

  Doakie is running hard, just in case. He keeps thinking he hears footsteps behind him but when he stops, they stop.

  Gasping, he rounds yet another corner; he does hear footsteps. They’re close and they’re getting closer, but if he hurries, he can make it. If he can only make it he can . . .

  He’s running so fast that his feet slip out from under him and he falls down.

  Ow!

  This is it, Doakie thinks, scrambling up. If they’re gonna get me, this is when they’re gonna get me. Those are definitely footsteps following, but like lightning he dodges and rolls behind a pile of cartons that got delivered to the wrong store and prays whoever’s chasing won’t see the blood he drooled on the white marble floor out front when he fell.

  Ug! The footsteps are still pounding toward him. They are getting closer and closer. Then when he’s just about to die from not breathing, they stop.

  FIVE

  TRAPPED AT THE BASE of the WhirlyFunRide, Jule spins, trying to see past the glare of her captor’s light. On the dark floor below the looming Ferris wheel, flashlights move in the dark—other people—kids, she thinks. How many are there anyway? She doesn’t know. The one who pulled her out of the capsule is definitely the leader. That’s all she knows.

  The tough kid signals one of his followers. “Yo, Kirk.”

  A boy much bigger than Jule grabs her elbows from behind, frog-marching her off the exit platform. She struggles but he is too strong. Jule stands on the main floor with her bare face exposed, blinded by the work light the leader shines directly into her eyes. Everybody in the circle sees her, but she can’t see them.

  Her captor rumbles, “What are you doing here?” The voice is deeper than it should be, but this isn’t a man. He sounds more like a boy whose voice has dropped too far. Crowding her, the others mutter and grumble but in the glare she can’t make out how many, or who they are. “Answer me!”

  “Nothing! I’m not doing anything!”

  “Why were you hiding?”

  “I wasn’t hiding,” Jule says. “I got stuck.”

  “Yeah, right,” a girl says in a voice that’s too big for the space. “So. Are you here to join us or turn us in?”

  At least Jule thinks it’s a girl. The question is confusing. “Join what?”

  “No new members,” someone snarls, and the others join in.

  Blinded by the light, Jule blinks. “Members?”

  “Shut up, Donny.” The leader shoves the light so close that Jule’s eyelashes curl in the heat. “Answer! What are you doing here?”

  If only she could see! “I told you, nothing.”

  “Nobody comes in here for nothing. Now tell the truth.”

  Standing tall and proud as she can, Jule challenges him right back. “And what are you doing here?”

  His voice grinds like stripped gears. “
None of your rotten business.”

  But the girl with the big voice comes back with an answer. “We saw your light.”

  “Shut your hole, Mag.”

  “No, Burt. You shut up,” Mag hisses. “Gotta find out who this person is.”

  “Watch your mouth or you better watch out, Margaret Sullivan,” the burly leader says. “Nobody talks to Burt Arno that way.”

  “Except me.” Laughing, Mag steps out of the circle and closes in on Jule. “OK, girl. Answer. What’s your name?”

  “Jule Devereaux.” Jule tries to jerk free but Kirk’s fingers clamp tighter. “I’m from town.”

  “Town!” Mag gives Jule a shove. “What are you doing here?”

  “I told you, I’m not doing anything!”

  “It doesn’t matter what she’s doing. She’s seen us,” Burt says. “She could turn us in.”

  Mag says patiently, “We need to find out what she’s doing here so we’ll know what to do. Now get that light out of her eyes.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Whatever.” Mag leans in like a dentist getting ready to yank a molar. The girl’s red hair is frizzed eight ways to Sunday and she’s missing some teeth. “Now, what are we gonna do?”

  Burt snaps, “I’ll figure it out!”

  “We need to know!” Angry, Mag peers into Jule’s face. “Look, girl. Nobody hides out in here for no reason. Talk.”

  “I’m not hiding out, I got trapped.” Jule knows how stupid she was, overstaying LAST CALL. “It was an accident!”

  “Sure,” Mag says sourly. “Sure it was.”

  “Really.” She tries to smile. “I don’t want to be here at all.”

  There is an ugly silence. It seems Jule has made a mistake.

  “You don’t want to be here?” Burt rumbles, “You don’t want to be in here, you don’t have to be here. Fine,” he says in a new, hard voice that scares her more than she will admit. “Let’s see what we can do about that.” He turns to the group. “What are we gonna do with her?”

  “Tar her,” somebody suggests and the others chime in like a bunch of A students trying to make it to the head of the class.