Black Sky

Chapter Ten

Absolute blackness. Outside, in the parking lot, the lanterns had also been turned off.

Marian and Emma ran into the back rooms and returned with red tea lights, which they spread on the tables. As the first tea lights burned, a dim red light spread out.

Actually, Tom found the light of candles totally cozy, but today it could not please him. Of course, it was safer that way. The chance of being seen from outside had diminished, but with the interplay of twitching flame glow, tinted reddish by the stained glass, and the moving shadows, there were also more dark spots. Tom found that this sort of light was tailor-made to stimulate any form of nightmarish fantasy.

This was the last thing Tom wanted to use now.

The man with the glasses - apparently the husband of the blond woman and the two children - was still bent over the injured man, shining the glare of the flashlight on each horrific wound. A woman in business attire and an older man assisted him. They fortunately obscured Tom's view, but when the older man stepped aside briefly, Tom saw bare skin. White as a fish belly in the flashlight light. And red. So much red.

They had cut open the man's jacket. Blood-soaked gauze everywhere. Dark red smeared floor tiles.

Tom looked away. The next moment a voice screamed in his head, "You fucking idiot! You have to look there! See all the fucking wounds, see all the fucking blood! Look what they did to him! You gotta toughen up!

So Tom looked in that direction again. But the older man had blocked his view again - and secretly he was grateful for that.

The doctor's wife (in his mind, Tom was already calling the horn-rimmed glasses guy that - the doctor) was sitting with her kids at the other end of the rest stop, as far away from all the blood as she could get. She had pulled the boy and the girl tightly to her and was gazing into the twilight with widened, staring eyes.

Just not to all the blood. Just not to all the blood.

Jonah sat in a chair next to Tom, rocking back and forth restlessly. In the background, Marian and Emma were still running around, spreading the tea lights. Tom still recognized Marian's boss, whom Marian had called Mrs. Becker, but the rest of the people meant nothing to him.

Further away sat the father and the pink-haired woman. Of course, they had sat as far away from the others as they could. The young woman was still holding her stomach, this time with only one hand.

At least a little progress, Tom thought. But this thought could only give him limited pleasure. He knew how it would come: People would pester the daughter-father team with questions.

And Tom had questions, too. The woman had sounded so sure of herself when she had said that there was nothing more out there.

Only a person who had intuition could be that confident. And an intuition told Tom that he was right. An ugly thought intruded. She knows more than we do, Tom Fischer thought, glancing at the pink-haired woman. She knows what's out there. In the darkness. She knows what is waiting for us there.

At the same moment, Illya, three tables away, had a similar thought: they will ask her questions. Many questions.

And this was followed by another thought: Dear God, help us. Give me the strength to save my little girl.

He almost reached for the chain with the wooden cross stuck on his chest under his padded winter jacket and three other layers of fabric.

Instead, he turned to his daughter and asked, "Is your stomach better?"

Vivien nodded, still pale. "It's okay."