RUNNING WITH THE DEMON by Terry Brooks

“We could go swimming,” Brianna suggested brightly, ignoring him.

Nest shook her head. “I can’t. I have to be back by two. How bad is it, Robert?”

“The bark’s all split open and oozing something green and there’s dead leaves everywhere.” He saw the look on Nest’s face and stopped. “What’s going on? What’s this sick-tree business all about?”

Nest took a deep breath and bit her lower lip. “Someone is poisoning the trees in the park,” she said, giving a slight edge of truth to what was otherwise an outright lie.

They stared at her. “Why would anyone do that?” Cass asked.

“Because…” She shrugged. “Because they’re nuts, I guess.”

Robert frowned. “How do you know this?”

“Grandpa told me. He heard it from the park people. I guess it’s happened in some other places, too.” She was rolling now, sounding very sure of herself. “It’s one guy that’s doing it. He was seen in another park, so they got a description. Everyone’s been looking for him.”

Robert frowned some more. “This is the first I’ve heard of it. My dad never said anything about anyone poisoning trees in the parks. You sure about this?”

Nest gave him a disgusted look. “Of course I’m sure. Why would I say it if I wasn’t?”

“So they know what this guy looks like?” Jared asked quietly. He looked tired, as if he hadn’t been sleeping well.

“Yep.” She glanced at them conspiratorially. “I’ll tell you something else, too. Grandpa thinks he might be in the park this weekend. See, sometimes he dresses like a park maintenance man in order not to be noticed. That’s how he gets away with poisoning the trees.”

“He might be in the park this weekend?” Brianna parroted, her porcelain features horror-struck.

“Maybe,” Nest advised. “So we have to watch for him, keep an eye out. This is what he looks like.” She provided a careful description of the demon, from his pale eyes to his bland face. “But if you see him, don’t try to go near him. And don’t let him know he’s been seen. Just come get me.”

“Come get you?” Robert repeated suspiciously.

“So I can tell Grandpa, because he knows what to do.”

Everyone nodded soberly. Nest held her breath and waited for more questions, but there weren’t any. Way to go, she thought, not knowing whether to laugh or cry at her subterfuge. You can lie with the best of them, can’t you? You can lie even to your friends.

They walked through the park for a while afterward, killing time. Nest watched her friends surreptitiously checking faces as” if they might really find the tree poisoner, and she pondered if she had done the right thing. She needed any help she could get, and this would give her friends something to do besides wonder why she was acting odd, but it made her feel ashamed of herself anyway. She didn’t believe any of them would find the demon. She thought only John Ross could do that, and she wasn’t sure of him. What persuaded her that she should even try to do something was her memory of the morning’s encounter in the church kitchen, of the murder, of the pale eyes studying her, of the calm, even voice talking to her about the way the world would end. She could rationalize what had happened from now until Christmas, but she still felt desperate, almost hopeless.

The park was beginning to fill with families come to picnic and participate in the games the Jaycees were running prior to this evening’s community dance. There would be softball, badminton, horseshoes, and footraces of various sorts for adults and children both. Members of the club were already preparing for the events. Food and drink stands were being set up. The smells of hot dogs and hamburgers wafted in the thick July air, and smoke curled lazily from the brick chimneys of the cook centers in the pavilion. Bushy-tailed red squirrels scampered along the limbs of the big oaks, and a few dogs chased after balls. Laughter and shouts rose from all about.

A slight breeze wafted off the river, causing Nest to glance skyward. A thin lacework of clouds drifted across the blue. She had heard her grandfather say there was a chance of rain for the Fourth.

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