Kyla awoke to the sound of a toilet flushing. Her heart was in her throat, a chill on her skin: she’d dreamed of the dead city again, and the man in the gabardine suit, and his horrible smile: those teeth, grinding together like stones.
Oh no, Miss Hewitt. It is I who shall have audience once more.
Fernanda stepped out from the bathroom, wiping her hands clumsily on her jeans. “I do not mean to worry you, but I believe the motel might be running out of water.”
Kyla sat up on the edge of the bed, hardly hearing. She looked at the alarm clock. The time was pushing seven thirty. She’d slept with her shoes on. Ready to run.
She stood and risked a quick peek through the curtain of their front window. Night had fallen hard in the time she’d slept. A great ring of light surrounded the motel, past which the darkness of the desert was so dense it seemed almost like a living force, the maw of a void.
A neon sign burned in the parking lot.
Brake Inn Motel
Vacancy
Kyla didn’t feel rested, not in the slightest, but she’d awoken with clarity about one problem that had been nagging at her before she’d drifted off. She would need to go to dinner. There was no getting around it.
Not that Kyla wanted to eat; that was never going to happen on a day like today. It wasn’t to get the fresh air, either, because if Kyla could have her way, she and Fernanda would barricade the doors and windows and not leave this room until sunrise.
Kyla said in a low voice, “I need to talk to her.”
“Who?” Fernanda had settled herself at an easy chair near the corner table and tilted her head back against the wall. She closed her eyes, and Kyla realized this was the first time she’d ever seen the woman look tired.
“Sarah Powers.” Kyla murmured the name softly, nodding to the wall that divided their room from room 4 next door. “I’m going to make sure she doesn’t mention us to Frank. It would be very bad if he found out we were here.”
That was an understatement. Returning to her bed, shoving back her mattress, Kyla found the green backpack resting right where she’d left it before she dozed off. She unzipped the bag, poked through its contents, as if anyone could have disturbed the bag while she slept. She found everything exactly as she’d left it.
Frank would do anything to get this bag back. And there was no telling what he would do to the girls in the process.
Kyla jerked the mattress back into place and started pacing. Thinking. Room 5 was much like any other room at any other motel. It was clean, well-maintained, but more than a little dated, even by the faded standards of west Texas. There were two twin beds with heavy carved-wood headboards. There was a nightstand with a brass lamp wearing an accordion shade. The window in the bathroom wasn’t a window, but a glass block set straight into the wall, the kind of thing that had probably seemed so modern fifty years ago. It all felt fusty and old, and yet it had been kept in perfect condition. These headboards must have been antiques, for instance, but they didn’t have a scratch on them.
Kyla gave herself a little shake. She was wasting time.
Plucking up their key from where it rested on the room’s nightstand, she held its wooden fob to the light. On one side, it readROOM 5. On the other, someone had printed
7:30 DINNER
DRINKS TIL 9:00
12:00 LIGHTS OUT
Lights out. Like they were at some sort of summer camp.
“Dinner is coming up any minute,” Kyla said.
Fernanda’s eyes were still closed. “I agree that this Sarah woman is a concern. But would it not be suspicious to say, ‘Please, ma’am, when you talk to Mister Frank, do not mention our names’?”
“I have an idea for that. I think I can play it off.”
Kyla paced: back door, bathroom, front door. She turned. She started again. As she neared the back door a second time, a creak of wood from the porch outside made her pause. Slowing her step, treading softly, she held her eye to the door’s peephole and saw the two boys, Ethan and Hunter, making their way to dinner. To the left, she could see the glowing windows of the motel’s cafe. A neon sign burned in its window.
Hot Food
Cold Drinks
“But why should we go all the way to dinner? The woman is right there.” Fernanda opened her eyes, nodded at the adjoining wall. “We could go next door and speak with her now. She said she would leave her doors unlocked.”
Kyla resumed her pacing. “Going to Sarah’s room would draw too much attention. If we talk to her in public, then she won’t think we have anything to hide.”
