He had a feeling he wouldn't.
Out front, they returned to their booth. Other customers glanced at them, but no one looked unduly concerned. The TV was still tuned to local news. The same reporter stood by what looked like the same snowy roadside, speaking grimly at the camera. Similar text scrolled along the bottom listing details: five murders and two attempted murders at three different locations. But instead of "serial killer on the loose," the text now read, "serial killer caught. "
Then he listened. "Police apprehended the suspected murderer just a little while ago. He appears to have been overpowered by his latest would-be victims, both of whom were injured in the encounter and taken to a local hospital. The police have made a statement that they cannot speculate on the exact series of events, and the lone survivors of these horrific events are not talking to reporters. "
So maybe they were safe. The witnesses wouldn't remember them. No one would come looking for them. Just a couple more monsters in the night.
He and Kitty got refills on their coffee and made a little toast. "To Christmas," Kitty said. He just smiled. He'd faced down a killer. Captured a killer, and kept his own killer nature locked inside him. Now that he knew he could do it, he wondered if it would become easier. Wondered if maybe he could go home again. He thought he knew what Kitty would say if he mentioned it to her: He'd never know until he tried.
Maybe it wasn't too late to go home for the holidays.
"Thank you," he said to Kitty.
She glanced away from the TV. "For what?"
"For helping me. For teaching me. For making my day a little more interesting. For giving me hope. "
She shrugged and gave a surprisingly shy smile. "I didn't do much but get in trouble. As usual. "
"Well, thank you anyway. I think I'm going to go back home. See if I can't get my old job back. See if I can't cope with this a little better. I think I can do that now. "
"Really?"
He shrugged. "I'd like to try. Not much future for me waking up naked in the woods every couple of days. "
"Not unless you're in an industry with a lot of X's in the job description. " He had to laugh. "Just remember to breathe slowly," she said.
"Yeah. " He started to get up.
"You're going right now?"
"I'm going to make some calls. " He gestured to the front door and the pay phone outside.
"Do you need money or something? For the phone. "
"I'll call collect. This is the one night a year I know my folks will be home. It's . . . it's been a while since I've called. They'll want to hear from me. I can get some money wired, then catch a bus for home. "
He finished standing, because he really was anxious to get going. Anxious to test himself. She seemed put out. She really wanted to help, and it heartened him that people like that were still out there.
"Here, take this. " She dug in her bag and pulled out something, which she handed to him. A business card. "That has all my info on it. Let me know if you need anything. "
"Thanks. "
"Good luck. " Smiling, she watched him leave.
He was at the pay phone before he took a good look at the card. It was for a radio station: KNOB. Her name: Kitty Norville. And a line: Host of The Midnight Hour, The Wild Side of Talk Radio. She hosted a talk radio show. He should have guessed.
He hadn't talked to his parents in months. Not since he'd run away. He'd done it to protect them, but now, dialing the operator, he found himself tearing up. He couldn't wait to talk to them.
He heard the operator ask if they'd accept the charges. Gave him his name, and he heard his mother respond, "Yes, yes of course, oh my God . . . "
He said, his voice cracking, "Hi, Mom?"
Thankfully, Jane turned the news off when the reporter started repeating herself.
The movie was long over. The carols were back, all the ones Kitty knew by heart. Jane must have had the same compilation album that her parents played when she was growing up. Funny, how it wouldn't be Christmas without them.
One of her favorite tunes came on, a solemn French carol. A choir sang the lyrics, which she had never paid much attention to because she didn't speak much French. But she knew the title: "Il Est Ne le pin Enfant. " Il Est Ne. He is born.