The Waking Moon

Addendum

We’d been on the road for nearly forty minutes. Jack struggled to sit up in the passenger seat of the Volvo, but eventually managed to prop himself against the door and rest his head on the window. To my relief, Rhodes had slipped out sometime in the night, and so I didn’t have to explain where we were going. I’d begged Jack not to ask questions, and so he didn’t, even though the sky was already growing pale, and there were hints of pink along the eastern horizon. He sat quietly, mesmerized by the orange dashes caught in the beam of the headlights, slipping rhythmically under the car and out of sight.

I gripped the wheel tightly to keep my hands from shaking, taking in deep, deliberate breaths and focusing on the highway, which I’d never driven before. It was I25 South, the road that led to the Canyon City Women’s Correctional Facility, mom’s terrible new home. If things had been different, I may have taken this drive to visit her, to feel the familiar arms around me again, to tell her how much I loved her. But that was not my destination.

The first light was dawning, and the traffic was spare. Occasionally, a big rig rumbled up behind us, its headlights like blazing asteroids in my rearview. When that happened, I’d grip the wheel and hold my breath, easing up on the accelerator until the truck barreled around us, horn blaring.

The fear was like a paralyzing ink cloud spreading inside me. It was so hard to accept the idea of dying. But if Jack had been willing to sacrifice himself to save me, how could I not do the same for him? How could I live with myself? Whenever the fear got too great and I started to lose my nerve, I would think of Judy. She was brave when she went. And soon I would see her again.

To keep myself calm, I went over the details of the plan in my head. There was no room to screw up. Sampson had laid it all out. He’d told me exactly where to go, and how to avoid the security guards and surveillance cameras. There may have been other ways. Better ways. But I didn’t have it in me to come up with them. The most important thing was to follow the plan.

“Hey Paulie,” Jack whispered. “You do realize that it’s getting light?”

“I know,” I said quickly. “But it’ll be okay. You have to trust me.”

“Okay,” he said, without hesitation. It made me want to cry.

The moment I saw the name of our exit on the road sign, my heart began to race. I’d looked up the directions online and memorized them so well I didn’t even have to think about where I was going. The sky was growing brighter, as the lowest clouds deepened into red. We passed an illuminated billboard with a dramatic aerial photo of a canyon. It said: Royal Gorge Tours – It’s Gorgeous!

The parking lot was still closed, so I parked the car along the shoulder of the road. I turned off the engine and looked at Jack. 

“I’m taking you back,” I said.

Jack’s brow furrowed. His skin was already going slack, with tiny granules pushing through the surface. “What are you talking about?”

“The Afterlife. You’re going back.”

He let out a surprised laugh and looked around. “And what is this place? Did you find some kind of secret portal or something?”

I could feel the cold, bloodless pallor of my face. “You’re going to tag along with me.” I carefully took his hand and gave it a tender squeeze. “We’re going together.”

Jack stared at me for a long time, as if his mind were spinning its cogs trying to grasp what I’d said. I knew he could feel the trembling in my fingers. “Paulie,” he said, his voice thin and dry. “What are you planning to do?”

“It was Sampson’s idea. He’s certain it’ll work.”

“He’s certain what will work?”