“Let’s take the back porch,” she said. “It’ll save a few seconds.”
They stepped out of room 1’s back door. A lamp died over Kyla’s head as they made their way down the side of the motel. The ring of light that surrounded them was flickering, growing weaker and weaker. The edge of the light had drawn so close, Kyla could have reached out her hand and brushed its edge.
Probably lost a finger in the process. ASHRIEKcame from mere feet away.
That got them running.
At the far end of the motel, they found a massive metal engine, Army green, rumbling on concrete blocks. The generator. Tabitha unscrewed a cap in the engine’s side. As Ethan emptied the sloshing can of gas into its guts, a smile came over Tabitha. It looked like the most profound relief Kyla had ever seen.
“We didn’t get the chance to do this the first night,” she said. “And so we’ve never done it since.”
Kyla would wonder about this later. “How long will that fuel last?”
The generator weakened, then surged back to life, the lights around the motel shining so bright everyone had to cover their eyes. The engine practically purred with gratitude.
Ethan didn’t seem as happy as the rest of them. “That wasn’t much fuel, considering how much power this place is pulling.”
Tabitha opened a door set into the wall nearby. “This way. I’ll explain as quickly as I can.”
As Kyla followed Tabitha inside, her eye caught the old house behind the motel. A single silver light was glowing in the window upstairs. Kyla murmured to Ethan, “Something’s waiting for us in that house.”
“If we can just find a way to get there,” he said.
The door led into the motel’s kitchen. Filthy cookware was piled in the sink, scattered over long gas ranges. Kyla found it almost as disturbing as the violence of the past two nights: after an aimless decade of working waitstaff, a dirty kitchen was one of her greatest anxieties.
But of course they had bigger problems. Even with Jack Allen dead and the lights back to full strength, she knew this was only a reprieve. Another moan from the mountain shook the motel. Whatever was making that sound, she doubted a shotgun and a few stolen pistols would do them much good.
Speaking of the shotgun, it was practically as tall as Kyla herself. Its weight was starting to drag on her. When they came around the corner of the cafe’s hall, she settled the gun on the bar, something that appeared to give Tabitha even more relief. The woman was clearly eager to talk, even without the threat of getting her head taken off.
“You should get some food. All of you,” Tabitha said. “I make it every night and it’s never been eaten. I would like that to change.”
“I’m not exactly hungry,” Kyla said.
“You might as well get up your strength. This will take a few minutes to explain. If our father’s to be believed, what’s happening tonight has been going on for centuries.”
ETHAN
“You’ve probably already worked it out by now, but the last time this motel accepted guests, the year was 1955.”
They gathered new plates of food as Tabitha spoke. Ethan poured water from the jugs they’d brought from Tabitha’s room, shot nervous glances into the dark outside. Once, twice, Ethan would have sworn he saw a hazy shape—amanshape—looming at the cafe’s window.
But whenever he looked again, the shape was gone.
Ethan said, “That guy in the gray suit—he told me a story about this place.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow. “You met him before?”
“At a shithole diner earlier today. He was there when me and Hunter pulled into town—just sitting there, drinking a coffee. He told me that twelve people disappeared from this place back in ’55.” Ethan rubbed his temples, wincing at his stubborn headache.Nine empty rooms. Twelve cold beds.“Jack Allen said this place has been abandoned ever since, but when me and Hunter got here and everything seemed normal, I just figured… I don’t know, that he was pulling my chain.”
Fernanda said, “Frank O’Shea told me the same story. I thought the twins must have somehow renovated this place behind his back. The land would be cheap, I assumed.”
Ryan said, “Stanley had the same problem. His daughter told me all about it. Stan’s mother and Frank’s mother both vanished on the same night. The two women sold makeup together. They were driving back from a cosmetics conference in New Mexico and stopped somewhere in the area for the night. No one ever saw them again.”
“Why would they stop here?” Kyla said. “Stockton’s not two hours away.”
“The ladies were an item. Not that anyone says that part outloud.” Ryan chewed a piece of okra. “Frank and Stanley like to make out like their moms were kidnapped or murdered, but I’d always assumed those two girls had just run off to Mexico together.”
“No. They didn’t. I met them last night.” Tabitha’s face strained at a thought. “Or rather, notlastlast night. English isn’t really built for this kind of paradox. Or maybe the brain isn’t.”
