Chapter #48Names That Should Not Be Known by: Masktrix   You pause, looking at Cassie. Unable to trust. Unable to do anything.
“I’ve got to go,” you say. “I’ll see you later.” You don’t know if she’s really herself or not, but you can’t get in the car.
“Will? Just get in the car, OK?”
“No, sorry Cassie. I’ve got something I have to do.” You give her a final glance, and then, with a shake of your head, burst into a run. If it really is Cassie you’ve probably confused the hell out of her, but that’s a bridge you can rebuild when you get to it. Right now you need to get the hell away from the businessman. You lapse into a jog, knowing that Cassie can’t hope to turn around and track you down without pulling into one of the lots, then cut away from 20th, pushing through the backlots of businesses. It doesn’t take long to hit the sidestreets of the houses that run along Coolidge and King, but you have no idea how the hell you’re going to shake your pursuers – if there really are any – on foot. You can’t exactly trace your steps back to your pickup, either.
Right now, it feels like there’s a manhunt for Will Prescott. And that limits your options. You pause to catch your breath, hiding behind a shrubbery and praying the nearby house’s security light doesn’t ping on, before reaching to your phone. It’s answered almost immediately.
“Will?” Niamh’s voice is balm to your panic. “What’s up? You found something?”
“Niamh, listen, I think… I think I’m being followed.”
“Followed? By who?”
“Whoever took the masks. I don’t know, I think I saw of them – a mask, I mean. I think they were trailing me, waiting for me to do something.”
Niamh takes a breath on the phone. “OK, Will. Calm down. You’re sure?”
“I’m hiding in a fucking bush, Niamh, yeah, I’m sure!” you squint through the foliage. The road is quiet, with no passing headlights of cars that might be looking for you. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, then, quietly, replies.
“OK. I’m going to borrow my mum’s car and come and get you. Where are you?”
You bring up maps – this isn’t your side of Saratoga Falls – and tell her your location. Then all you can do is sit back and wait, feeling the twisting pain in your stomach grow with each agonising, tense second.
***
It’s barely 10 minutes, but it feels like an eternity. The road has been uneasy and still – though nowhere near as uneasy as you’ve felt – with only the odd passing light. Every time someone comes by, you feel your body tense and go on alert, ready to sprint at a moment’s notice. But the cars have been people coming home, or just passing through. The November cold has begun to bite, and your breath has become a juddering series of clouds. Your feet tingle with numbness and you long for a warm, safe space.
And then you see a car approach. It takes a while to recognize the shape of the Stirland family Ford, and even longer to recognize Niamh’s face behind the wheel. Your heart leaps as you step out, waving to her in the darkness. The headlight beams catch your eye for a moment, dazzling you a little as she pulls up. Then you rush inside, closing the door behind you.
“Go,” you say, looking this way and that, even as you scramble to keep yourself low in the passenger seat.
“Will, if they know about you they know about me,” Niamh says. “Sit up and put your seatbelt on.”
You look at her a little bashfully before complying. “Yeah,” you say, sighing. “You’re right. Shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Niamh nods, hitting the accelerator and heading toward the town's main roads. “Fuck indeed. So what did this businessman look like, the one with the mask?”
You shrug. “Does it really matter? Whoever’s got the masks can look like anyone, can’t they?” You blow out your cheeks. “Fuck. I think Cassie might be one of them, too.”
“Your girlfriend?” Niamh says, glancing at you.
“I don’t know. Maybe she just turned up at the wrong time. Why would anyone replace Cassie Harper? Unless they were trying to get to me, I suppose?”
“And why would they be trying to get to you?” Niamh says slowly. “You were out, remember?”
“I don’t know! Because I know about this stuff? Because if they get to me, they could get to you? And once they’ve got you and me – and the Shelly golem – then that’s it, isn’t it? They win. Nobody else knows about the masks. Well… except Ian.”
“Of course,” Niamh says. “We should contact Ian.”
And that’s when you feel the world fall through your stomach, a massive, planet-sized weight of fear and dread. The pallor vanishes from your face once again, and you grow cold and nervous just sat in the passenger seat, unable to control the ride. I never told Niamh about Ian.
“You OK?” she says, hand reaching over to touch you with concern. You flinch a little; you can’t help it. Whoever this is must have been playing you from the start. The more you think about it, the more you realize Niamh never said anything first; every name, suggestion, location all came from you.
“Yeah,” you laugh a little nervously. “It’s just… been a wild ride since you turned up again. Honestly, I never thought I’d see you again after our bust-up at St. X. Although that was pretty weird. I mean, I was disguised as Mariah, and you were disguised as Todd.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re back with me now.” Not-Niamh smiles.
She didn’t notice you said Todd. She was Dalton in that room.
“Yeah,” you say, as you wonder what the hell you’re going to do, trapped in a cab with an impostor pretending to be your ex-girlfriend - all while being hunted down by another impostor who looks like your current one.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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