RUNNING WITH THE DEMON by Terry Brooks

She left the others then, promising to meet up with them later on in the afternoon when family obligations were satisfied. Robert was having a cookout in his backyard with his parents and some cousins. Cass and Brianna were going to a church picnic. Jared had to go home to watch the younger kids while his mother and George Paulsen came over to the park so that George could compete in the horseshoe tournament.

Jared and Nest walked back across the park, neither of them saying anything. Jared seemed preoccupied, but she liked being with him no matter what his mood. She liked the way he was always thinking things over, giving careful consideration to what he was going to say.

“You going to the dance tonight, Nest?” he asked suddenly, not looking at her.

She glanced over in surprise. “Sure. Are you?”

“Mom says I can go for a while. The kids are staying at Mrs. Pinkley’s for the night, except Bennett is going to Alice Workman’s. You know, the social worker. George and Mom are going out somewhere, then coming back to watch TV.”

They walked on, the silence awkward. “You want to go to the dance with me?” he asked after a minute.

Nest felt a warm flush run down her neck. “Sure.”

“Cool. I’ll meet you about seven.” He was so serious. He cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets.

“You don’t think this is weird or anything, do you?”

She smiled in spite of herself. “Why would I think that?” “Because it would be you and me, and not all of us. Robert and Cass and Brianna might think it’s weird, us not including them.”

She glanced quickly at him. “I don’t care what they think.” He thought about it a moment, then nodded solemnly.

“Good. Neither do I.”

She left him on the service road and slipped through the gap in the bushes at the edge of her backyard, feeling light-headed from more than just the heat.

CHAPTER 20

John Ross rode out to Sinnissippi Park with the desk clerk from the Lincoln Hotel, who ,was having Sunday dinner with his brother and sister-in-law just to the north. The man dropped him at the corner of Third Street and Sixteenth Avenue, and Ross walked the rest of the way. The man would have driven him to the Freemarks’ doorstep-offered to do so, in fact-but it was not yet two o’clock and Ross was not expected until three and did not want to arrive too early. So instead he limped up Third to Riverside Cemetery, leaning heavily on his black staff, moving slowly in the heat, and found his way to Caitlin Freemark’s grave. The day was still and humid, but it was cool and shady where he walked beneath the hardwood trees. There were people in the cemetery, but no one paid any attention to him. He was wearing fresh jeans, a pale blue collared shirt, and his old walking shoes. He had washed his long hair and tied it back with a clean bandanna. He looked halfway respectable, which was as good as it got.

He stood in front of Caitlin Freemark’s grave and looked down at the marble stone, read the inscription several times, studied the rough, dark shadow of the letters and numbers against the bright glassy surface. CAITLIN ANNE FREEMARK, BELOVED DAUGHTER & MOTHER. He felt something tug at him, a sudden urge to recant his lies and abandon his subterfuge, to lay bare to the Freemarks the truth of who he was and what he was doing. He looked off toward their house, not able to see it through the trees, visualizing it instead in his mind. He pictured their faces looking back at him. He could not tell them the truth, of course. Gran knew most of it anyway, he suspected.

She must. And Robert Freemark? Old Bob? Ross shook his head, not wanting to hazard a guess. In any case, Nest was the only one who really mattered, and he could not tell her. Perhaps she did not ever need to know. If he was quick enough, if he found the demon and destroyed it, if he put an end to its plans before it revealed them fully …

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