to do.
As the boat reached him and he handed the baby into the waiting arms of its mother, then let Tim Kitteridge help him into the boat as well, he said nothing.
Nor did he speak as the questions began to come at him from every direction, first from the baby’s mother, then from the police chief. But at last, after the boat was docked, he told them what happened.
“I followed him, and finally I caught up to him. He had a heart attack, or something. He didn’t try to hurt me, or the baby, or anything. He just ran as long as he could and then collapsed.”
“Collapsed?” Kitteridge asked.
Michael nodded. “He was under a tree. A tall pine— the tallest one around. He was trying to hide in some bushes, but I could see him. And he saw me, too.” Michael’s voice took on a hollow quality. “He died. He just died.”
Kitteridge’s frown deepened. “And you just left him there?”
Michael nodded distractedly, as if he was having trouble even remembering what had happened. “I had to bring the baby back,” he said. “I had to bring it back to its mother.”
Though Kitteridge was certain there was more to the story than Michael had told him, he decided that any more questions could wait until later. The boy’s face was pale and his eyes looked glazed. “All right,” he said. “You just take it easy for a few minutes. Then maybe you can take us back to where you left him. Think you can do that?”
Michael’s head moved in assent, and the police chief’s attention shifted to Marty Templar, who had just arrived with four other men. But while Kitteridge talked to the deputy, Michael quietly went in search of Kelly Anderson.
He found her near the dock, looking out uncertainly at the swamp. “You okay?” he asked, standing beside her.
Kelly shook her head. “Th-They wanted me to take them back to where we were when my grandfather took the baby. But I didn’t think I could.” She turned to face Michael. “I don’t remember how I got back.”
Michael took her hand in his own. “It doesn’t matter. They want me to take them to where I left your grandfather, but I’m not going to.” Kelly frowned but Michael kept talking, and for the first time she noticed that he’d changed, somehow. His eyes burned with indignation. “I know what’s wrong with us, Kelly,” he said, his voice dropping so no one but she could hear him. “I know what’s wrong with all of us, and I know how to fix it.”
Ten minutes later, when Tim Kitteridge went looking for Michael, he had disappeared.
He, and Kelly Anderson as well.
Clarey Lambert opened her eyes, blinking in the bright sunlight. She was sitting on the porch of her house, her body erect in the rocking chair. She felt tired from the effort it had taken her to reach out first to Kelly’s mind, and then to Michael Sheffield’s, but now it was over, and she could hear the soft throbbing of the outboard engine as the boat bearing the two teenagers drew near. She turned in her chair, feeling the ache of her protesting muscles, and smiled at Jonas Cox. “They be coming. You hear?”
Jonas said nothing, his eyes searching the waterways in the direction from which the low sound drifted. Only when the boat came around the end of the next island and he recognized Michael and Kelly sitting in the stem did he finally relax. When he’d first heard the boat, he’d been certain that it was the Dark Man, coming for him.
As the boat bumped against the pilings beneath the structure, Jonas reached down, taking the line that Kelly held up to him, and tied it to the railing. Then Kelly and Michael climbed up the short ladder, coming to a sudden stop when they saw Clarey’s eyes fixed on them.
“The baby?” the old woman asked.
“He’s all right,” Michael told her. “I got him back to his mother.”
“It was my grandfather who took him,” Kelly said. “Why did he—”
Before she could finish her question, Clarey’s voice, crackling with anger, cut her off. “Not your grandpa,” the old woman declared. “Don’t you never think that man was your grandpa. And it don’t matter now—he be dead.”
Jonas Cox’s pinched face paled. “Michael killed him?” he asked, his voice trembling.
“No!” Clarey replied. “Michael didn’t kill Carl Anderson. Carl Anderson died a long time ago. Only his body stayed alive.” Her glittering eyes shifted away