Wickerman Cove

Part 9: Jaywalker

"Oh God," Steph said, pushing the dog away, then reaching over the back of the seat to give him a hug. "Next time you rescue me from a nightmare, try to be less gross, okay?"

She slumped against the car window. It looked like it had been raining while she was asleep – they were driving up a shallow hill, with rainwater running down either side of the road. The converted hearse handled it well.

Penny gave Steph a sideways look, with a quirk of the eyebrow that probably indicated she wanted to know if she was okay.

"I'm okay," Steph said, shaking the last of the sleep off. "I had a nightmare about being back in Mali."

Her eyebrow rose a little further.

Steph shook her head. "I don't know, after the thing in the alley – which we are definitely going to talk about – maybe what I saw there was for real, but even if I'm not completely crazy, I'm still not ready to say I saw a ghost. Although, a weird, eight-armed thing that sucks the blood out of homeless people should probably be harder to swallow."

Penny smiled, and fiddled, one handed, with her phone. She put it in Steph's lap. It was an ebook of Hamlet: There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

"Does that make you Hamlet?" Steph said, "because right now, I feel like the half-crazy guy who came home to find the place I left doesn't make sense anymore."

Penny patted her on the leg and changed gear. She wasn't driving so fast it was unsafe, but the country roads here were narrow, with unexpected twists and forks rushing out of the darkness. Steph tried not to fall asleep again, and considered reaching over the back of the seat for the bag full of diet coke and protein bars she'd picked up in New York.

Something pale appeared in the road ahead.

The shape of a man in a tan overcoat flashed into the headlights, if it was a man. Apart from two arms and two legs, the shape of the coat and the hat made it impossible to tell. The dream was fading, but the similarity made Steph's stomach sink.

"Penny?" Steph asked. "You can't hit that guy."

Penny didn't answer. She tightened her grip on the wheel and braced herself, almost looking under the rim as she drove. Steph yelled her name again, braced hard against anything she could, and was thankful she was wearing a seatbelt. She contemplated grabbing for the parking brake, but nobody would be saved if the hearse spun off into the dark of the forest. All three of them would die if they got hurled off a sheer drop or slammed into a tree.

The figure in the hat and overcoat rushed up. If she kept her eyes open, she might finally get a look at its face.

Something happened. She kept her eyes open as the figure – bleached brilliant white by the high beams – should hit by the chrome fender.

Nothing. The dark road rushed up and past as before.

She half-climbed over the back seat to check the road behind them. Empty, red-lit darkness vanished as the car sped on.

Steph looked back to Penny. The pale archaeologist had relaxed again, sitting in the unnaturally erect posture that her corset and bustle forced her to adopt, smiling a little as she changed gears.

Steph watched her for a moment. "Okay, did you see that? Was that like the alleyway, or am I actually cracking up?"

Penny made a see-saw motion with her hand. The corner of her mouth twitched.

"Oh, fuck you," Steph said, sinking back into her seat. "We are so going to talk about this. You're not going to be driving this car forever."

Ahead, red light blazed through the trees. As they got closer, it resolved into a sign that said, 'Gas, Coffee, Groceries – Open 24 Hours.' Penny moved her head to get Steph's attention. She gestured to the sign.

"Yeah," Steph said, trying to shake off the heavy sense of unreality. "Let's talk."