Chapter 8
She opened her eyes, well aware she’d squinted them closed during the worst of the hullabaloo in the portal, when she heard the crackling of fire behind her. That sound could only mean one thing. She turned around and looked at Chad, and, yup.
Jack o’lantern face. Body like a bundle of sticks in an oversized sack.
They were back in the Now.
He helped her down off the horse just as gently as he would in his other form, but instead of pulling away when she touched down, she took his bony hand in hers and pulled him down to her. When he was close enough, she kissed his pumpkin cheek. He pulled back in surprise.
“What was that for?” His voice was hollow and awful in this form.
“A promise.” She let go of his hand. “I’ll meet you here at midnight tonight. I’ll be by my foolhardy self. I’ll have whatever answers I can find.” She lifted her chin. “I’ll get us all out of this. I promise.”
Before he could say anything else, she went to Aaron’s horse, touched his equally bony hand, and tugged gently until he leaned down. She kissed his round cheek, too.
“I promise.”
“I believe you, Esmie.”
Finally, she went to Jerome. “You, too, buster.”
“A kiss from a pretty girl? Sign me up.”
Rolling her eyes, mourning his rich Keith David tones, she gave him an equally chaste peck on the faded orange skin of his round cheek and patted his bony arm.
“I promise. I’ll be back here at midnight.”
“I know you will.” He surprised her by touching a gloved finger lightly to her cheek. “I’d bet my Supreme Court nomination on it.”
She grinned crookedly, then backed away, and they turned their horses and ran off into the night. She heard the crossing but didn’t see it. Probably for the best. She didn’t want to see them go.
Alone. In a strange state halfway across the country from anything or anyone she knew.
Her phone battery was down to fifty-eight percent, and she didn’t have a charger.
She had her emergency credit card in her ankle wallet, but it had less than three hundred dollars’ worth of credit left on it. Not enough to get back home easily.
But she could get something to eat and drink, and the library wouldn’t charge her anything to look at plat maps.
She might have to pay to get into a local museum if she had to for such old maps.
She had a sneaking suspicion Sleepy Hollow might have gone the way of Salem, Massachusetts—touristy and expensive.
She hoped not, but she wouldn’t know until she stepped into town.
In ripped leggings and a dirty hoodie with a face that had gone a round or two with a cheese grater. Ugh. This just kept getting better and better.
Nothing for it but to head toward the urban center.
She pulled out her phone, brought up the local library, and asked for directions.
Then, she followed the blue line out of the scrubby woods toward the dimly lit streets of town.
It wouldn’t be dawn for hours yet, so she had plenty of time to trudge along.
It felt impossible to believe it wasn’t at least a day past when she’d been taken to the Between.
She really had been gone less than a second in this reality, but she’d traveled from Missouri to New York by horse.
And yet, her phone assured her it was still yesterday, only 12:42 AM, when she strolled into the outskirts of town.
She hadn’t killed nearly enough time. Nothing would be open yet.
Nothing but, perhaps, an all-night Wal-Mart?
Excited now, she changed her search parameters from the library to Wal-Mart, checked the hours to see if it was an all-nighter, and let out a little crow of relief when it was.
Now, she was in business. She could replace her hoodie and leggings, buy a brush for her hair and some wipes for her face, wash up in the bathroom, and even get some food and something to drink.
She might even be able to charge her phone in the electronics department if she was careful and unobtrusive.
The Wal-Mart was a good three miles away, which wasn’t that far by vehicle or by horse but was a good distance on foot.
She wasn’t used to walking more than across campus these days, and she wasn’t exactly athletic.
By the time she trudged into the parking lot, her feet and legs were sore, she was sweating all over again, her face was hot, and her hair stuck to her cheeks. She was not a happy camper.
She was, however, thrilled to see the familiar blue sign glowing brightly in the dark of the wee hours.
Here, she could tarry until dawn. This time of night, there was no greeter at the door, so she walked in with as much confidence as she could muster and made her way to the plus size clothing section.
Black leggings, check. Gray hoodie, check.
In the Health & Beauty section, she chose facial wipes and a hairbrush.
She debated toothpaste and a travel toothbrush, but cavities and bad breath weren’t her biggest concerns right now.
She did, however, grab a scrunchie on the way by.
At least she could corral her hair enough to keep it from sticking to her face anymore.
She did a quick self-checkout so she didn’t have to explain her face to a cashier, then went to the bathroom to take care of business.
The wipes were cool and blissful on her cheeks and forehead.
They took the sting out of the little scratches and divots she really should have cleaned long before now.
Nothing that would scar, she didn’t think. Just… ouch.
Then, her neck and armpits, under her boobs, and between her legs.
She tossed the used wipes in the trash can in her stall, then pulled the tags off the new leggings and hauled them on.
The hoodie went over her head, and then she exited the stall to brush out her hair with some water to tame it so she could pull it back into an orderly ponytail.
She washed her hands with soap, looked at herself critically, and decided she’d do. Her face looked a little road-rashy and swollen, but she no longer looked filthy and disheveled. She’d do.
Now, time for food and drink. God, she was thirsty.
She chose two six-inch, ready-made subs, a snack pack of Cheetos, and two blue Gatorades.
Then, she took her feast into the abandoned Subway in the front of the store.
It was obviously closed, but the table nearest the entryway wasn’t roped off, so she took that as an invitation and sat there.
The first sandwich disappeared in record time. She almost didn’t even taste it.
The second, though, was heaven. Her stomach stopped roaring at her and settled into a low, almost pleasant growling as she took slow, steady bites and chewed with bliss, supplementing with sips of Gatorade.
Food and beverage had never tasted so good.
All it took was a day or so in the Between without them. Go figure.
About halfway through the sandwich, she opened the Cheetos and ate them one at a time, enjoying the crunch in counterpoint to the sandwich’s softness.
She looked around the store—the few people moving around, the glaring, fluorescent lighting, the gaudy splat of colors—and smiled.
She’d never truly appreciated the Now before.
How everything was just… Now. In her face Now. She loved it.
Finally, she finished her feast and balled up all her trash.
She still had a bottle of Gatorade, so she tucked it into her hoodie’s pocket along with her receipt, so she wouldn’t get tackled by security for walking around with it.
She glanced at the time on her phone—3:47 AM, still a couple of hours before dawn and longer than that before the library opened—then strolled slowly back to the electronics department.
Once there, she spied out the phone section and cursed under her breath.
It wasn’t set up so anyone could sneak a charge. Bummer.
Oh, well. The library would have to do. She hoped they had extra cables, because she hadn’t thought to bring one to the damn cemetery when she first started out on this cursed expedition.
She strolled through the store for another hour or so, mostly reading the backs of books or the covers of magazines, then headed out the front before security became suspicious and kicked her out.
The faintest line of light edged the horizon when she cleared the doors, and she sighed.
Four miles to the library. Luckily, her feet and legs were well-rested from her earlier walk, so she thought she’d make it alright.
Unfortunately, she was wrong and mad about it by the time she reached the low rock wall around the picturesque library grounds and sat down, hobbling a little to make the last few steps.
Her feet were killing her. Her legs felt like achy rubber bands.
Even her back hurt somehow, though it had been just fine riding a horse all the way to freaking New York. Stupid walking. Stupid exercise.
Her face was hot again, too, but at least her hair wasn’t sticking to her face.
Score one point, she told herself crankily as she sat on the low wall, rubbing at one sore thigh with her feet splayed before her.
The sun had crept over the horizon while she walked, but there were still two hours before the library opened.
She had no idea if it was okay to sit here and wait or not.
Would the police harass her for doing so?
Usually, libraries were safe places, but she wasn’t in the library.
She was near the library, which wasn’t the same thing.
Then, her phone buzzed against her hip, and she wanted to facepalm. She could have texted Tavia. Should have. Maybe she wouldn’t tell her friend where she was, but she should at least tell the poor woman she was alive.
But… she’d have to explain why she wasn’t in class, teaching bored students entry level policing strategies. Which would lead to Tavia demanding to know where she was. Which she couldn’t answer.