demon - camren

eleven

authors note: hope ya'll like the end, camrens really takin' off

They spent the night at a Motel 6 somewhere in Indiana. Camila barricaded her door again, and she tossed and turned, Lauren clouding her mind, but didn't fall asleep until a half-hour before Lauren knocked. She didn't eat any breakfast and she kept her head down and her cap on while walking out to the Charger. It gleamed, the dust and dirt of the previous day's travel washed away like it had never happened. If only that was true. As they were bypassing Chicago, Camila relented and told Niall about Shanks.

He'd earned the right to sit at the table with the cool kids, she reckoned. They drove through an endless suburban sprawl of strip malls and chain restaurants, the parking lots and signs repeating as if copied and pasted, and got into Springton, Wisconsin a little before three that afternoon. The day had dulled, become cold, and sporadic showers of rain splattered the windshield.

They passed the high school, a building of red brick set a dozen steps above street level, and carried on to the town square. The library sat on one side, and opposite it, on the south side, sat the Mayor's Office – white, with pillars outside denoting its obvious importance. The buildings to the east and west housed various businesses and eateries. They got out. Stretched. Lauren staying close by Camila's side the whole time.

It was maybe ten degrees cooler than when they'd started their journey, and Camila was wearing jeans now. They felt weird on her legs. She pulled on a jacket and made sure her cap was secure. "What do we do now?" she asked. "We ask about Dacre Shanks, " said Niall before Lauren could answer. "We split up. We'll cover more ground that way. The sooner we get to him, the better, am I right? We've got your parents on our tail, Camila. I may have been able to throw them off the scent yesterday, but that won't stop them for long. Here, that guy looks like he might know something." Niall strode towards an old man walking his dog.

Camila looked at Lauren. "He's trying really hard." Lauren nodded. "You notice how quiet he was this morning? He didn't make one single stupid comment." "And he was very useful yesterday." Lauren hesitated, then shook her head. "Doesn't make one bit of difference. This is where we cut him loose, before we talk to Shanks. The less he knows ..." She trailed off. Camila frowned. "What?" "Nothing." "What, Lauren?" Lauren sighed. "Your parents know him now. If we leave him here and they find him, they might ..."

"Do you think they'd kill him?" "They killed those cops without a second thought, didn't they?" They both looked at Niall, who was now arguing with the old man while the dog yapped and nipped at his legs. "So, " Lauren said, "should we leave him, or ...?" They looked at each other and burst out laughing. Niall jogged back. "What? What are you laughing about?" "Nothing, " said Camila, trying to contain herself.

"Did you learn anything?" "No, " said Niall. "Turns out that old guy is German and doesn't speak a word of English." "Then what were you arguing about?" Niall looked puzzled. "How should I know?" This set Camila and Lauren off again. Niall tried to laugh along with them, then gave up and went for a walk. A full third of the library was given over to computers, the bookcases crammed together in the space left.

Camila walked the labyrinth until she found a section marked Local History. It was a single shelf with five books on it – four of them the same book. She flicked through the fifth – Springton: A Legacy, by a local author with a bad photo. She learned that Springton was established in 1829, and got its name from its wondrous spring-water reserve. She learned that the industry that built up around it polluted that reserve so much that the water became virtually undrinkable. The author called that 'ironic'.

Camila flicked through the rest of it, then checked the index. No mention of Dacre Shanks. She replaced the book and wandered out of the stacks. Niall found her. "They have a Springton Gazette, " he said. "I asked the librarian if I could see the old editions, y'know, to read the articles on Shanks as they were printed? She said they're only available on microfiche." "What's microfiche?" Camila questioned, her brows furrowed.