Fear (Gone 5)

The two boys turned slowly to look at her. “Say what?”

“He was… Something touched him. And his whole body…” She made a writhing movement with her hands. Twisting the fingers together as somehow the pieces of Jonesie had been twisted together, turned inside out, and formed this … thing.

They stared at her. Probably glad to have any excuse not to stare at the thing she was calling Jonesie.

“Something touched him? What touched him?”

“God,” Jamilla said. “God’s hand.”

Turk brought Cigar in with his hands tied behind his back.

“Untie him,” Penny said.

Cigar was nervous. Penny smiled at him. He seemed to relax a little.

“I don’t think I’ll have any problems with Cigar,” Penny said to Turk. “He’s basically a good kid.”

Cigar swallowed hard and nodded.

Plywood had been nailed up over the windows. The room was bare. Before leaving town Sam had left a small Sammy sun burning in one corner. It provided the only light and added a lugubrious quality, casting dark green shadows in the corners. It was dawn but you’d never know it in this room. Not even high noon would penetrate here.

“I’m really sorry,” Cigar said. “About what happened, I mean. You’re right, actually; I mean, I’m not bad.”

“No, of course you’re not bad,” Penny said. “Just a murderer.”

Cigar’s face went pale. His left hand started shaking. He didn’t know why. Why just his left hand? He fought the urge to grab it and hold it still. He stuck it in his pocket and tried not to breathe too loud.

“What do you like, Cigar?” Penny asked.

“What do I like?”

Penny shrugged. She was moving around him, her bare feet silent. “What kind of stuff do you miss? From the old days, I mean. From before.”

Cigar shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t stupid. He could sense there was a cat-and-mouse game being played. He knew Penny’s reputation. He’d heard about her. And the way she would walk almost past him, then back up to send him a searching, penetrating look made him queasy.

He decided on an innocuous answer. “Candy.”

“Like candy bars?”

“Like Skittles. Or Red Vines. Anything, I guess.”

Penny smiled. “Look in your pocket.”

Cigar felt in the front pocket of his jeans. He felt a packet of something that hadn’t been there before. He pulled it out and stared in amazement at a fresh pack of Skittles.

“Go on. Have some,” Penny said.

“They’re not real. Are they?”

Penny shrugged. She twined her hands behind her back. “Try them. You tell me.”

He tore the package open with trembling fingers. He spilled a half dozen of the bright pellets on the floor before catching the next few. He popped them in his mouth.

Cigar had never tasted anything half so wonderful. “Where… Where did you get these?”

Penny stopped. She leaned in close to him and jabbed suddenly at his head with her finger. It hurt, but just a little. “In there. From inside your head.”

Cigar looked doubtfully at the Skittles still in the pack. His mouth watered. Sugar was almost a forgotten memory. But he was pretty sure the candies had never been this good. These were crazy good. He could eat a million of these, and maybe they weren’t real, but they felt real in his hand and tasted better than real in his mouth.