Nightworld

Am I going to lose you too? Carol thought as she stood next to Bill in his bedroom and helped him pack a small duffel bag with some extra clothes for the trip.

Why was it always she who was left behind? Jim had died and left her—although that certainly wasn't of his choosing. And her son—at the time she had thought of him as her son—had left her. Hank had run off last night, and now Bill was preparing to fly to Rumania.

"What are your chances of getting back?"

"I don't know," Bill said. "Not great, I think."

"Oh." Carol couldn't manage any more than that.

"Do I sound brave?" Bill said, straightening and looking at her. "I hope so. Because I sure as hell don't feel brave. I mean, I want to do this, but I don't want to die or even get hurt doing this. But I've got to do something."

"Can I go with you?"

Anything would be better than being left behind again, especially now when she had nothing else to do but sit around and wait for Hank's call. A call she was sure would never come. And that certainty hurt. She and Hank hadn't had the romance of the ages, but to pack up everything and sneak off like that…

Even if he did call, she wouldn't go back to him. She didn't want to be with somebody who'd do that to her. And then there was the matter of that crazed look in his eyes. She had to face it: She no longer trusted her husband.

"To Rumania?" Bill said, staring at her. "It's too dangerous."

"Is anyplace safe anymore?"

Even the daytime was no longer safe. A rather shaken Jack had returned a short while ago with a story of horrors hiding in the sewers and storm drains.

"This place is. And Glaeken seems to want you around."

"But why? What can I do besides help him take care of Magda? Not that I mind, but what else?"

"I don't know. Maybe you're part of the equation. I don't pretend to understand why he's doing what he's doing. Sometimes I wonder if he knows why he's doing what he's doing. But he's all we've got. And if he says we need these bits of metal from Rumania and I'm the only one left who can get them, then I'll try to get them. And if he says you're important to the solution to what's happening to the world, then I'll go along with him. He hasn't let us down yet."

" 'Part of the equation,'" she said, her throat constricting around the words. "I've been part of some sort of equation since I got pregnant and provided the little body that allowed this…this monster back into the world!" Her voice cracked. "He took my baby, Bill! He kicked out whoever my real baby might have been and took over his tiny body. And now he's going to take you!"

She felt Bill's arms go around her shoulders and pull her tight against him. His flannel shirt smelled lightly of detergent, and as its rough surface pressed against her cheek, the thought that he really should use fabric softener wafted inanely across her mind. She slipped her arms around his waist and pulled herself closer. If she could just hold him here like this, it soon would be too late for him leave, and then she wouldn't lose him.

And she realized then how much she wanted him. Not like the last time, not like back in '68 when the beast within twisted her into trying to seduce Bill from his vows. That had been lust, induced lust. This was something else. This was love. An old love, following a long and winding road from the puppy love when they'd dated in their teens, to something deep and real. In a way, perhaps she'd always loved Bill. And now that he'd turned away from his church and his old beliefs, now that the cocoon of the priesthood had been unraveled from around him, he seemed real again, flesh and blood again. She wanted to tell him how she felt but the decades-old memories of that degrading scene of attempted seduction still echoed around her and held her back. And yet, if she didn't tell him now, would she ever get the chance again?

Jack's voice shattered the moment: "Time's a-wastin', Bill. We've got to make a stop in Monroe on the way."

Monroe…her home town. Bill's too. Where Rasalom had usurped her child's body at conception. The torrent of memories was cut off as Bill pulled free of her arms.

"Got to go, Carol."

He went to kiss her on the forehead. Impulsively, Carol lifted her face and kissed him on the lips. From the way he pulled back and the way he looked at her, she knew that he hadn't forgotten 1968 either.

"Come back to me, Bill," she said softly. "I don't want to lose you too."

He swallowed, nodded. "Okay. Yeah." His voice was sandpaper dry. "I'll be back. We can talk more about this then." He picked up his duffel and started for the door, then stopped and turned. "I love you, Carol. I can't think of a moment when I didn't."

And then he was gone. But his final words lingered after him, filling Carol with a bewildering mix of emotions. She wanted to laugh with joy; instead she sat on the edge of the bed and cried.