“New York!” Glen said excitedly from the back.
Milo sighed. “It didn’t take Edgar long to find mentions of a winged beast. He found eleven in all, on obscure websites on something called the Dark Web. One sighting in Louisville, two in Baltimore, and the rest in New York.”
“Is that where Gregory Buxton is?” Amber asked.
“We think so,” said Glen, nodding seriously.
A flicker of annoyance crossed Milo’s features. He’d had to deal with Glen for an entire night without Amber there to act as a buffer, and it was clearly taking its toll. “Edgar will be meeting us in Brooklyn,” he said. “He’ll get there ahead of us, snoop around, and hopefully by the time we get there he’ll have something more solid.”
“Okay,” said Amber. “Good.”
“Something else bothering you?”
She glanced at him. “Since when are you so eager to chat?”
“He was worried about you,” said Glen.
Amber raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Don’t know why you’re so astonished,” Milo said. “I looked away for one moment, and you were gone. I didn’t know if you’d got lost, if the witch had grabbed you, or if your parents had tracked us down faster than I’d anticipated.”
“We searched all night,” said Glen. “Well, Milo did. I tried, but, until I’ve regained all my strength, I’m more hindrance than boon. At least that’s what Milo said.”
Amber suppressed a smile. “How did you find the witch’s house?”
The road widened to become a highway, and Milo piled on the speed. “I knew we were in the right area when there were no more birds singing, but we could have been wandering for days if Glen hadn’t seen the smoke from the fire those women lit.”
“It was nothing,” Glen said bashfully. “I shouldn’t be called a hero just because I saw some smoke.”
“No one’s calling you a hero,” Milo said.
“They’re not? Really? But I saw the smoke.”
Amber settled back and let Glen prattle on until his strength left him and he fell asleep. It was funny – when he wasn’t talking, there seemed to be something missing, a vital element they’d left behind. She almost wanted to wake him and set him off again, like a wind-up toy, but she decided against it. He’d been through just as much as she had, and so she let him rest.
They stopped at a gas station for food and Amber and Milo got out, leaving Glen to snore gently in the Charger. As they were walking back across the forecourt, Milo said, “One of the women said you were there when the witch killed someone. Faith – was that her name?”
Amber nodded.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Me too.”
“We can talk about it, if you want.”
The Charger stood before them, waiting to hear her story. She imagined her confession filling it like fuel, and she slowed.
“I killed her,” said Amber.
Milo frowned. “Faith?”
“The witch,” she said. “I killed her, just like I killed Varga.”
“They were monsters.”
She looked at him. “They were still living things. Almost living, anyway. One moment they could think and have opinions and do things, and the next … they couldn’t. Because I killed them.”
“They had both killed plenty of innocent people. You stopped them from killing more.”
“I ended their lives.”
“Yes, you did. And you have to live with that. But better you end theirs than they end yours.”
“Have you killed people?”
Milo didn’t answer for the longest time.
“Sorry,” said Amber. “I didn’t mean to—”
“My earliest memory is of murder,” he said.
She looked at him. Didn’t say anything.
“I woke up one morning in a motel with no idea who I was. I didn’t know my name, didn’t know where I was from … My life was a blank. The only memories I had were flashes of being in that car, driving at night. The only faces I could remember were the faces of the people I’d killed.”
“Glen was right,” Amber said softly. “You’re the Ghost of the Highway.”
“That’s what some of the newspapers called me, yeah. I didn’t know it, not when I was in that motel room that morning. I remembered everything about the world, but nothing about my place in it. I went outside, though, and I saw the Charger waiting for me. I could’ve walked away, I guess. Left it behind. But I was terrified. I was alone, and lost. I didn’t know what had happened, why I couldn’t remember … But I knew, even then, that the car was a part of me. That I’m only complete when I’m sitting behind the wheel.
“I must have stood there for an hour, maybe longer, just looking at it. I knew what I was. I was a killer. More than that, I was a monster. I remembered fragments about a deal – vague fragments, from years before – and I remembered the Demon who spoke to me … Couldn’t remember the words, though. Couldn’t remember the terms, or even the reason why I’d summoned him in the first place.”
“Is your name even Milo?” Amber asked. “Are you even from Kentucky?”
He gave a small smile. “According to the ID in my wallet. As far as I can tell, though, it’s a false identity. Why I needed one, I don’t know. But it was the only one I had, so I clung to it.”
“What did you do? Did you get in the Charger?”
“I did,” he said. “It was fine for the first few hours. I just drove. I was outside of Miami, so I headed for a hospital. Couldn’t remember one thing about my life before the deal, but I remembered streets, oh yes. I remembered where everything was. But the more I drove, the more I began to slip away. I didn’t notice it at first, how calm I was getting. How content. And then, just like that–” he clicked his fingers – “I knew that if I didn’t get out of that car that I’d be gone again. So that’s what I did.
“I stored the Charger, took a bus to the hospital. They couldn’t find any head trauma. I went to shrinks, hypnotists … Hypnotists helped, actually. I started to remember more – but it was all about my time in the car, travelling the blackroads, choosing victims … Nothing about me. Nothing about my life before all that. I got in touch with Edgar to try to figure out more about the deal I’d done, or even just find out which Demon I’d done it with. It didn’t work. I gradually accepted that my old life had been wiped away and there was no getting it back.”
“You still don’t remember anything?”
He shook his head.
“Jacob said the Shining Demon sent out a representative when his dad stopped harvesting souls. Did anyone like that ever come to you?”
“No. I’d have welcomed it, actually. Finally, I’d have some answers.”
In the Charger ahead, Glen woke up. Amber saw him look around in sleepy befuddlement. He spotted her and waved.
“That was twelve years ago,” said Milo. “Every few months I’d go by the garage, take the cover off and just … look at her. But I wouldn’t touch. Wouldn’t get in.”
“Until I made you.”
He looked at her, frowning, like he’d just remembered she was there. “You didn’t make me do anything.”
“You needed the car to take me on the blackroads.”
“That was my choice,” said Milo. “Besides, enough time has passed. I don’t feel the same need as I did back then. I wouldn’t have been able to handle the Charger before. I’d have been in danger of slipping right back into my old habits.”
“And now you’re not?”
“Of course not. It doesn’t take me over like it used to.”
“Sometimes it does.”
“What?”
“When you’ve been driving too long, you kind of … You get weird. You look thinner.”
Milo shrugged. “It can be a strain, sure. But I’m in control.”
“You don’t quit an addiction by going back to it.”
“I’m in control, all right? Trust me.”
“So …
it really is alive? The car?”
“In a way.”
“Can it hear us? Can it understand us?”
“Of course.”
She looked over at the Charger, noticing how still it seemed, like a cat about to pounce.
Milo smiled. “She’s not going to hurt you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know when she doesn’t like someone.”
“It talks to you?”
“Sort of. Relax, Amber, okay? Things are different now. I’m older and stronger. I’m in control now, not the Charger. When you’re in this car, you’ve got nothing to worry about, okay? It’s everyone else out there,” he said. “They’re the ones who have to worry.”
THEY STAYED IN KANSAS that night, and were gone by eight the next morning. Amber watched the landscape rise, flat land developing hills the further east they drove. They passed through Missouri and Illinois and got back into Indiana at five that afternoon. Tomorrow, Milo said, they’d be in New York.
They found a motel just like half a dozen others they’d stayed at, L-shaped, the rooms opening directly on to the parking lot. Amber got a room at the upper half of the L, Glen got one in the middle, and Milo got one nearer the corner.
They ate at a nearby diner and Milo and Glen went to their rooms. Amber took the iPad to hers, used MapQuest to work out that they had twelve hours of driving ahead of them. She really, really hoped that’d be the end of it. She couldn’t handle any more.
At seven, she got so bored she went for a walk. She didn’t know the name of the town they were in, but it was pretty big. Maybe it even qualified for city status. She got something to eat in a McDonald’s, even though she wasn’t hungry. Eating was something to do to pass the time.
When she was finished, she dumped the remains of her meal in the trash, slid the tray on to the stack, and walked out on to the sidewalk, nearly colliding with a pretty blonde girl who was passing. They smiled at each other, did that awkward dance where one moves round the other, and the girl walked on. Amber was going the same way, but she delayed for a moment, just to make it clear that she wasn’t following this girl, and then she walked after her.
There was a guy up ahead in a crappy suit, slurping on a smoothie. He watched the blonde girl approach, then put the smoothie on top of a trash can and brought his hands together in an appreciative clap.
“Now that is how you fill a T-shirt,” he said, grinning, as he fell into step beside her. “Hey there, baby, how’re you doing today?”
The girl didn’t answer, just kept walking.
Amber stayed a few paces behind.
“You are looking mighty fine, princess. Where you headed?”
“I’m in a hurry, sorry,” the girl said.
“Where you rushing off to? Why don’t you stay a while, talk with me?”
She shook her head, walked faster.
He kept pace. “I’m a nice guy, I’m a good guy. Ask anyone, they’ll tell you.” When she didn’t answer, he lost his good cheer. “I’m just being friendly. Can’t a fella be friendly these days? I’m paying you a compliment, for Christ’s sake. Least you can do is say thank you.”
The words left Amber’s mouth before she realised what she was saying. “Leave her alone.”
The guy swung round, his forehead creased in a frown, while the blonde girl took the opportunity to speed-walk away.
He gave Amber the once-over, and was not impressed. “What’d you say?”
Amber looked up at him and tried to keep the tremor out of her voice. “She didn’t ask for the compliment. You gave it and she didn’t ask for it or want it. She shouldn’t have to say thank you for something she didn’t want in the first place.”
The guy stared at her, and laughed. “What the hell are you talking about? What does this have to do with you? We were just having a conversation.” He turned, like he expected the blonde girl to still be there. “Aw man …”
He looked back at Amber. “What were you saying?”
“Nothing,” said Amber, and walked by him.
He followed her. “You jealous, that it? Bet you never had someone come up to you out of the blue and compliment you, now did you? No. You know why? Because you are fugly. You are fug-ly.”
“All right,” Amber said.
He stopped following her, content to have the last word. “Next time, mind your own goddamn business, you goddamn troll-looking bitch.”
Troll. That was it. That was the word that guy had used, back in the Firebird. Troll. What had his name been? Brian? Ben? Brandon.
Amber turned. The guy was just about to walk away, but when he saw Amber looking at him he squared up, eyebrow raised.
“We got a problem?”
“I get it,” she said. “I’m short. I could do with losing a few pounds. I’m not as pretty as some other girls.”
“And you look like a troll.”
People passed them by, not giving them anything more than a cursory glance.
“So what?” Amber asked. “What if I do look like a troll? I don’t think I do, personally, but let’s say that I did – so what? What’s it got to do with you?”
“Hey, you’re the one started this,” the guy said.
“That’s right,” she said, nodding. “I started this when you started hassling that girl.”
“I complimented her!” he said. Almost shouted.
“She didn’t want your attention.”
The guy took a big step towards her. “Well, that’s her problem, now isn’t it? I compliment a girl, that’s what it is. Not my problem if she takes it wrong.”
Amber looked up at him calmly. “But you have eyes, right? You saw how quick she was walking? You saw how uncomfortable she was? So, even if your intention was to be nice, why didn’t you back off when you noticed how uneasy you were making her?”
“So a man’s not allowed to compliment a woman anymore, is that what you’re saying? I swear, there’s just no talking to people like you.”
He stepped back, done, but she wasn’t going to let him get away that easy. She just couldn’t.
She grabbed his shirt, both hands bunching at his chest, and powered forward. He stumbled at first, too surprised to react, and then started laughing. Amused, he let himself get pushed into a narrow alley, then planted his feet and twisted. Amber lost her grip and tripped over his leg and fell to her knees. The ground was cold and wet.
“I’m not exactly sure what the hell is happening,” he said, “but it looked like you were trying to hurt me. Which is goddamn hilarious.”
Amber stood, and met his gaze. “Just thought I’d give you what you’re after.”
“Ohhh, you mean with you? Not a chance, little girl. I like ’em tall and stacked, know what I’m saying?”
“I know,” she said, and shifted into a tall, stacked, red-skinned demon. “So how do you like me now?”
His eyes widened and his mouth opened, but before he could yell she grabbed him, yanked him off his feet, and threw him deeper into the alley. He went rolling through a puddle and scrambled up and she shoved him back.
“Am I pretty enough now?” she said, smiling and showing her fangs. “Am I sexy enough now?”
She hit him, a backhanded swipe that sent him spinning, and stalked after him. “I’ve wanted to do this my whole life, you know that?”
“Get away from me!” he screeched.
He tried to run past her, but she caught him, of course she did, and she slammed his head into a set of filthy pipes running down the wall. He wobbled and fell, but his arms were still working and he started dragging himself away.
She lifted him off the ground by his ankle, swinging him into the wall. There was an awful crunching sound, and he landed heavily.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “All out of compliments?”
Her hand closed round his throat and she straightened, taking him with her. She held him off the ground with an ease that delighted her.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “I
’m not going to kill you. I’m going to let you go. But you’re never going to forget this, are you? And so whenever you see a pretty girl walking down the street – or even a not-so-pretty girl – you’re going to have to wonder to yourself – is she a demon? Because you wanna know a secret? There are a lot more than me out there. There are thousands of us, but you’re not going to know who’s who until it’s too late.”
“I’m … sorry,” he gurgled.
“Shhh. It’s almost over. I just want to leave you with something.” Her free hand grew talons. “I’m just going to carve the word troll on your forehead.”
He kicked, flailed, and she ignored him, and her smile grew wider as the tip of her nail touched his skin. She flicked downwards and he screamed and the scream pierced her calm like she’d been cut herself.
Amber dropped him in alarm and stepped back, and he curled into a ball with both hands pressed to his forehead. Blood flowed freely.
She looked at her hand, and watched as her talons retracted and her skin returned to normal and she was Amber again, the girl, the human, not the demon, and her thoughts were her own and all she wanted to do was puke.
She didn’t, though. She swallowed thickly and stepped back. She hurried from the alley, keeping her head down, and half ran back to the motel.
Amber sat on the edge of her bed. A few minutes later, she realised she was shaking. She took a shower, dressed in pyjama bottoms and a T-shirt, and went back to where she’d been sitting.
“What the hell?” she whispered to the empty room.
She turned on the small TV to get her thoughts on to something else, and began flicking through the channels. She bypassed a Two and a Half Men marathon and found an old TV show where a man in a suit, tie and mask was fighting a werewolf. It wasn’t very good, but it was better than Two and a Half Men. She watched it until she got bored, then flicked over and caught the end of a Dark Places rerun.
Her smile faded before it had even begun – the first time she’d seen this episode she had been at home, with her parents. It was the one where Balthazar was being stalked through an empty town by a trio of hunters. Bill had walked in just when they were explaining how they’d been tracking him. She remembered, with perfect clarity, the look on her father’s face as he itched to tell her how ridiculous that explanation was.