19
11:49 P.M.
MINDCASTER
"Whizzway'stown?"
Melissa took one hand off the wheel and pointed to her right, toward the great mass of sleeping humanity. The center of town tasted bloated and sweet, pulsing with slow and vapid dream rhythms, laced with a few sharp nightmares like undissolved chunks of salt. One good thing about Bixby was that people went to bed early. On a Wednesday night the mind noise started to fade about ten, and by eleven-thirty the few waking thoughts were merely annoying, like mosquitoes at the edge of hearing.
Rex grunted, spreading out the map with both hands and clenching a small flashlight between his teeth. It had been his idea to take the car tonight.
"I know how to get there," Melissa complained. "Let's just get onto Division. We've only got ten minutes."
"Donwannagesstopped," he mumbled around the flashlight.
Melissa sighed.
At sixteen in Oklahoma, she was stuck with a hardship license valid only for going to and from school. (And work, in the unlikely event that she ever found a job that wouldn't drive her insane.) It was also after eleven o'clock, so Rex was being ultracautious and guiding her through the back roads. He didn't want to meet any police, in case Sheriff St. Claire had decided to launch some sort of curfew crackdown.
Jonathan's trip to jail had spooked Rex. In a way, Clancy St. Claire scared him more than anything in the midnight hour. When it came to fat, nasty sheriffs, there was no lore to turn to.
Jonathan's weekend disappearance had been alarming for Melissa too, but for different reasons. All Sunday's secret hour she'd been casting on her roof, mostly watching the growing darkling activity but partly wondering why Jonathan had never appeared. Normally she could taste him shooting across the landscape. He was easy to spot, faster than anything else in the midnight psychic terrain, even a flying darkling.
His absence had worried her more than she would have thought. When she found out on Monday morning that he'd only been in jail, surrounded by opaque steel, it had been a relief. Rex might have sheriff-phobia, but there were worse things than getting busted.
She smirked. A night on the ground might even have done Jonathan some good. He'd tasted a little more humble this week.
"Tahnright."
Melissa turned right.
She was starting to recognize the neighborhood. "Okay, we're not far. I'll park somewhere."
Rex looked up at her, nodding agreement.
"Ow! Blind me, why don't you?"
Rex pulled the flashlight from his mouth. "Sorry." He began to fold the map.
Now that they were almost there, Melissa was glad they'd driven. Riding their bikes in the blue time wouldn't have taken that long, but they would be exposed to whatever the darklings threw at them. Without a stack of Dess-quality weapons it wouldn't have been safe, and this was one trip she and Rex wanted to keep secret.
They had never told Dess all of the lore about mind casting. It would be hard for anyone else to understand the mistakes they'd made when they were young. Dess always walked around thinking she'd been left out, never appreciating how much easier she'd had it. Back when it had been just Rex and Melissa, they'd had to learn the rules of midnight the hard way. Those years hadn't been all fun and games.
Melissa shivered and brought her mind back to the present.
She brought her old Ford to a stop a block or so away and pulled up her right sleeve to check her watch. Three minutes to spare.
Rex noticed her black-gloved hands. "You're looking very commando."
She smirked. "So what's this girl's name again?"
"Constanza Grayfoot. You haven't heard of her?"
Melissa sighed, shaking her head. Even Rex didn't completely understand how unbearable school was for her. Melissa didn't know the names of half her teachers, much less every social big wheel.
"Anyway, her name doesn't matter," he said. "Just as long as you get the general idea across. Clear the way, and it'll happen by itself."
"No problem."
Melissa looked at her watch again, calmed herself, and closed her eyes. The buzzing of a waking mind was close by, some brainless wonder soaking in late night TV. But sweet relief was coming in sixty seconds.
"Make sure to get both of them in sync. We don't want to miss Friday while they're doing parental negotiations."
"Rex, it's going to be easy. Just show me the stiffs." She felt a twinge from him. Rex hated when she used that word. "Sorry," she said sarcastically. "Just show me the midnight-impaired persons, and I'll get it done."
Rex turned away from her and stared out the window, giving off unhappy vibes.
She sighed and reached out to stroke one of his hands. He looked down in surprise, then remembered that her flesh was protected by the gloves. He smiled, but for a moment she caught a taste of his old bitterness. He shared every thought with her, along with terrible secrets and a hidden world, but they would never touch.
"Rex, really, this is simple. Nothing's going to go wrong."
"You always say that."
"The blue time is a breeze, Rex. It's the rest of reality that's hard."
He turned to her, reached across, his fingertips stopping just inches from her. "I know."
"I did the toughest thing I'll ever do eight years ago."
He laughed. "So you always tell me."
That search had been the hardest, finding Rex the first time. Melissa had felt him for as long as she could remember, since before she could talk. When the blue time came and the maddening noise would finally stop, only a single voice would remain. A lone taste out there in the suddenly empty world, as tenuous as an imaginary friend. The idea that he was a real person had taken years to form, another year to act on. Finally she had run the miles to his house in the secret hour, eight years old and wearing pajamas covered with pictures of cowgirls, half thinking it was a dream. But finding each other had made the whole thing real.
It had been a close call, she realized now. Much longer alone and she would have gone crazy.
Melissa tried to settle her mind, preparing for midnight, for the task ahead. Taking deep breaths, she waited for the moment when all the noise and clutter, restless dreams and nightmares, half-conscious anxieties and outright night terrors would finally be...
Silenced.
"Oh, yeah," she said. "That's the stuff."
She could taste Rex's smile.
All his thoughts were open to her now. His relief that they were safely in the blue time, out of the reach of the law, and his grim determination to get this job done. She could even taste the tiny, well-nibbled corner of guilt he felt for going to this extreme.