Sarah Benadine is Dead

Chapter VI, Part II

What was the magic of that first year? What was it that propelled them on, flying by the soles of their tennis shoes, pursuing a creature they didn't understand? Where did it start? And where did it end?

If asked, Shannon Malone would say that it started the day in September when she told Caleb Vance all about the creature in Dyer's Park. Allison Groves might've said it started much earlier than that, at least for her. It started before the summer, when she lost her best friend. And Caleb Vance...

Well, for Caleb Vance it started in Winkie's in October over a milkshake Allison Groves had bought for him. That had been Allison's opening gambit when trying to convince Caleb to come. He realized he was being bribed, but free ice cream was free ice cream. He figured there was a pretty important reason she wanted to ensure he was there, as well.

It had been raining for two days, off and on, and Caleb was soaked to the bone as he followed Allison into the parlor. Her hair hung in a sopping yellow rope that flicked water droplets onto the floor. She'd dragged him by the arm all the way there, half-jogging, half-running, trying to keep between the raindrops. Mr. Walker looked up when they walked in, looking slightly amused to see their state.

"Wet enough out there for ya?" he asked, leaning over the counter. Two teens sat on the high stools, holding hands and splitting a sundae.

"Oh, sure," Allison said. Mr. Walker got right down to business, and Allison placed their orders almost absent-mindedly, craning her neck to see around the backs of the booths. Finally, her gaze settled on what—or rather who—she was looking for and she waved. Shannon Malone was sitting in a booth, eating a hot fudge sundae.

"Hey, Shannon, glad you could make it," Allison said as she and Caleb slid into the booth next to her. She was considerably drier than the two of them, so Caleb figured she'd either gotten a ride or had had the sense neither Allison nor Caleb had had to use an umbrella. Caleb smiled at her, swallowing uncertainly, sneakers squeaking on the black and white tile. Shannon returned it, gentle and sweet, but a bit uncertain herself.

"Well, you seemed awful serious this afternoon," Shannon said, looking at Allison. "Figured it must be important."

Caleb's own assessment. He knew Allison very well by now, and even in his still developing sense of people's deepest thoughts and wishes he thought he understood Allison much better than she realized. In that, he was probably correct; whereas Shannon Malone found Allison something of an enigma, Caleb Vance could see through her. At least he could in the early days. He could that day, and he had a feeling he knew what she was going to say. Perhaps it was better that she never knew the full extent of this.

"Yeah," Allison said distantly. "Yeah, I think so."

But that Caleb already knew. He looked at Shannon and all at once was reminded of the Follower. He remembered what Charlie had told him. But there was no black mark on Shannon's hand. Not now, not that he'd ever seen. And he had looked, stealing glances every chance he got, checking both right and left, just in case. There was nothing there, he was sure of it. That was the only reason he hadn't told anyone.

"Don't keep us in suspense, Al," Caleb said.

Allison bristled. "Don't call me Al." She flicked her wet hair over her shoulder. Caleb caught Shannon suppressing a grin. Allison looked at Caleb significantly, her irritation suddenly and inexplicably abated. "I want to find Mabel."

All the breath was sucked out of him even though he'd known, in some way, on some level, that that was what she intended to say. Hadn't that been what she was gearing up for since the beginning of the year? Even before? The beginning of summer, perhaps?