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  Tess sighed, sat back and reached for her tea. She grimaced after taking a small sip. Cold. Glancing at the clock on her taskbar, she was amazed to see it was already after 5:00 pm. Emily would be back within the hour and Tess hadn’t even considered what she might prepare for dinner.

  She stared at the computer screen, brows furrowed in thought, without really seeing anything. The rest of the students would most likely have to wait for their responses until after Emily was in bed.

  Bed.

  Suddenly realizing how appealing that word was, how tired she was, Tess rose from her seat and made her way to the kitchen, stretching and yawning, carrying the plate with rice cake crumbs in one hand, the mug of cold tea in the other.

  She’d taken an allergy pill earlier in the day and assumed that was the reason for her drowsiness. Spring was always a bad time for her, plagued with hay fever as she was. So far, Emily had not shown any signs of it and for that Tess was thankful. Maybe the girl had received her father’s genes when it came to histamines.

  Once she’d placed the items in the sink, she turned towards the refrigerator. She was pretty sure there was still half a jar of spaghetti sauce in there and spaghetti was sounding damn good right about now. She dreaded the thought of cooking anything more complicated than that.

  As she opened the fridge door, a dark cloud burst out into her face. She yelped, stepping back, her hands going up to shield her eyes from the explosion.

  Flies.

  Dozens of flies, buzzing furiously, erupted from inside the refrigerator and flew directly at her head. Stumbling backwards against the counter, Tess waved her hands frantically in front of her, little squeals of terror escaping her throat. She kicked out at the refrigerator door, slamming it closed with a violent thud.

  Already, the flies were dissipating, soaring off into other parts of the house, but that didn’t keep Tess from nearly bursting into tears, still flailing her arms, visibly trembling.

  It took her a full three minutes to settle her nerves enough to open the fridge again, though only an inch or so—just wide enough to peek inside—and then a few straggling flies hummed by her on their way, causing her to flinch and bang the door closed once more.

  "Oh my God," she uttered aloud. "What the hell?"

  Something had gone bad in there. Very bad.

  Rotting bad.

  But what? Tess never had been in the house and she was positive there were no forgotten leftovers of fish or poultry either.

  Vegetables? Could she have forgotten some vegetable at the back of the crisper drawer? Forgotten it long enough for it to breed flies?

  And if so, didn’t that mean that even before the flies, there had been maggots?

  The thought caused her to gag and she hurried to the sink, certain she would vomit. She had fed her child from that refrigerator! Her stomach heaved, but she managed to keep the tea and rice cakes down. A fly whined by, close to her ear, and she cursed angrily. She would need to open the appliance again, search for whatever had caused this infestation. Maybe Emily had hid something in there. If that turned out to be the case, Tess wasn’t sure what she’d do. If there was one thing on the planet that she hated, it was flies. Every other insect stood a chance of surviving in her house—being caught and released to the outdoors. She’d taught her daughter to do the same.

  Looking back at the refrigerator, she groaned as several fat flies crawled across its white surface, some as large as her thumbnail.

  “I love you, Emily,” she muttered aloud. “But you are in big trouble, little missy. If you did this…” She shook her head, unable to finish the thought. A moment later, she was searching under the sink, bringing out rubber gloves, disinfectant and a fresh roll of paper towels. Wishing she had goggles, she turned to her task and whispered, “Big trouble.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Speck woke with a start, thinking the sky was crashing down on her…and it was.

  A tremendous boom shook the decrepit old school and plaster rained down on her from the ceiling.

  “What the…” She sat up fast, confused, bleary eyes blinking, heart pounding hard.

  The building shuddered again and her first coherent thought was earthquake but that didn’t explain the huge slams and crashes. It sounded as if the school were exploding around her.

  Her second thought was bombs. The city was being attacked by terrorists.

  Leaping to her feet, she snatched the jacket she’d been using for a pillow off the filthy floor and spun around, running for the doorway. She ran straight into Dobie’s chest, the collision knocking them both back a step. Mick stood beside him, her face drawn in terror.

  “What is that?” Mick shouted over another explosion.

  Speck shook her head as Dobie yelled, “Come on!”

  Dobie led the way out of the building, racing up a dark stairwell littered with debris, shafts of early morning sunshine filtering its way through the cracks of the boarded-up windows. He leapt expertly over ancient broken chairs, the small ones Speck remembered from her grade school days.

  Neither she nor Mick were quite as graceful when it came to vaulting junk as Dobie was, but they managed to keep up with him and seconds later all three of them had climbed out a ground floor window they had pried open only a few nights before.

  Squinting into the brightness of the day, they turned as one and saw a demolition crew at the opposite end of the school. They watched as a huge wrecking ball suspended from a crane smashed its way through the crumbling bricks of a south-side wall.

  “Holy shit,” Dobie said, just as a guy in hardhat turned in their direction.

  “Hey!” The guy yelled and began to jog towards them. “You kids come here!”

  They ran, stumbling over more trash that was strewn over the cracked and weed-infested blacktop that had once been a playground where children had played during recess.

  Heading for the hole in the chain link fence that Dobie had discovered when he was first checking out the school as a possible crash pad, the construction worker was no match for the kids and they were gone before he’d even reached the black top.

  “Holy shit,” Dobie said again when they’d stopped running. They’d traveled four blocks before they were sure no one was chasing them and all three were now out of breath. “We could’ve been killed.”

  Panting, pressing a hand to the stitch in her side, Speck burst into nervous laughter. “That was fucked up.”

  They continued walking in the direction of the park, ignoring all the looks of distaste they received from people who recognized street kids when they saw them.

  “Looks like we need to find a new empty,” Mick said, laughing with Speck.

  Dobie grumbled, “Yeah, hilarious. New blankets too.”

  “Maybe they won’t wreck the whole building today,” Speck suggested. “Maybe we can go back tonight for the blankets.”

  He shook his head. “It takes a lot less time to knock down a building than it does to build one. That place is history.”

  “It sucks we didn’t get any warning,” Speck said. “Shouldn’t there have been signs or something?”

  “Maybe there were signs and we just didn’t see them,” Mick replied, scratching the stubble on her head. The silver hoop nose ring that pierced her left nostril glinted in the sun. “We always got there late at night and got our asses out early. We probably just missed seeing the warning signs.”

  Weaving around a woman in a business suit and sneakers, Speck said, “Yeah, I guess so. But you’d think they would’ve at least checked the building for people. Dobie’s right: we couldn’t been killed.”

  Dobie made a disgusted sound. “They don’t give a shit. You really think it just didn’t occur to them to check to see if anyone was inside? They thought of it, they just didn’t give a fuck. They figure, anyone is in there, they’re just some lowlife scumbag who deserves to be crushed by fucking bricks.”

  Neither of the girls responded, realizing just how angry he was and not wanting to mak
e it worse by saying the wrong thing. Dobie was known for his temper; he carried a stainless steel butterfly knife he’d named God’s Claw and they had seen him pull it out and threaten people with it on more than one occasion.

  A minute passed and then Mick spoke, changing the subject. “I should have put a protection spell around us. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

  Dobie pretended not hear her, pulling a crumpled pack of smokes from his back pocket and lighting up with a scowl.

  “A protection spell?” Speck asked. She didn't have much faith in Wicca but Mick had been practicing white magic since she was thirteen and wholeheartedly believed in its power. “What would that entail?”

  “Oh, man, don’t encourage her,” Dobie groaned.

  Mick shot him a look before returning her attention to Speck. “If I’d had the right stuff, I could have blessed the empty. But, really, I should put a spell of protection on each us individually.” Her eyes shot open, bright with a new idea. “I know! Let’s go to Magyck Tyme! I know the chick who runs the place and I bet she’d give me some shit to work with. She has before.”

  “No way,” Dobie said, chuffing out smoke. “I’m starving. I’m heading to Willow House for some breakfast.”

  Mick frowned and pointed to a digital display clock in front of a bank they were passing. 7:12 am. “Willow House doesn’t open until nine, dumbass.”

  “I don’t care. I’ll wait outside.”

  Willow House was an old Victorian mansion that had been taken over by a group of nuns in the 1970’s. The nuns committed themselves to helping homeless children and eventually received sponsorship from groups like the United Way and the Salvation Army. Willow House had grown into what was essentially a counseling center, in addition to a safe haven where street kids could go for something as quick and simple as a hot meal or something more long term, such as receiving counseling, doing odd jobs or studying for and receiving their G.E.D., as well as physical checkups from a small but well-trained medical staff.

  “Magyck Tyme is only a few blocks from here,” Mick said.

  “I seriously doubt they’re open this early,” Dobie told her.

  “They might be. It’s Monday.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Well, whatever. I’m gonna go check it out. Even if they’re not open, I bet Maryann will be in there. She’ll let me in.”

  Dobie looked like he wanted to spit, but offered no further arguments. Instead, he whined like a little kid. “I’m hungry.”

  Mick glanced at Speck and rolled her eyes. “You wanna come? Maryann is really nice.”

  Speck shrugged. “Cool by me.”

  The three of them walked on and when it was time to cross the street and turn right in the direction of Willow House, or take the next left, the girls veered left and the tall boy with the shaved head and angry blue eyes followed.

  CHAPTER 7

  Strips of fly tape hung from every ceiling in the house and as Tess walked through her kitchen she had to zigzag and duck beneath them, lest she bump into one and have her hair stick to it. All the strips, but particularly the ones in the kitchen were alive with movement and random buzzing sounds. Wings beat uselessly, sometimes weakly but sometimes strong and belonging to flies newly captured.

  Tess was repulsed by the strips but not nearly as repulsed as she was by the need for them. The day before, when she had cleaned out the refrigerator, she had come across absolutely nothing that could have caused the infestation. Not one thing had spoiled, but she had thrown away every item within and scrubbed the inside of the appliance until her back ached. And then she’d scrubbed it again.

  She was mystified as to what could have happened—why the insects were in there—and why the cold hadn’t at least made them sluggish, if not outright killed them.

  When Josh had dropped Emily off, Tess had insisted he come inside so she could tell him about the incident. This was before she and Emily had taken a fast trip to the store for the fly tape, and the flies were still humming through the air like tiny kamikaze pilots.

  Josh had peered into the refrigerator with concern and puzzlement. It was empty and sparkling clean, as was the freezer. “This looks brand new.”

  “It should,” Tess replied. “I spent two hours scrubbing the damn thing. But until I figure out what happened I don’t want to put anything else in there. Do you think it could be something inside it? I mean, in the guts, where the motor is? Or beneath it?”

  He closed the appliance and turned to look at her. “Something like what?”

  “I don’t know. Eggs, maybe?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “No, couldn’t be. We bought this five years ago. Eggs wouldn’t take that long to hatch.”

  “Well, maybe they weren’t in there when we bought it. Maybe some mother fly flew up into the guts and laid a bunch of eggs recently. It is springtime.”

  Josh still looked unconvinced. “Do flies even lay eggs?”

  “I don’t know.” She sighed with frustration, blowing the bangs out of her eyes. “I don’t think so. I guess I’ll do an Internet search and see if I can find anything like this.”

  “That’s a good idea.” He waved a fly away almost absently. “You want me to go grocery shopping for you?”

  “No,” she replied. “No, I’ll go.”

  “Emily just got home. Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, thanks. I’ll take her with me. Maybe buy her a new toy to distract her from these…” She trailed off, gesturing at the insects zipping back and forth through the air. Currently, the girl was upstairs in her mother’s bedroom watching TV where Tess had shuffled her off to when she’d wanted to talk to Josh without panicking their daughter.

  They faced each other in silence for a moment, before Josh checked his watch and said, “Well, if there’s nothing you want me to do, I guess I’ll go say goodbye to Em.”

  “I’ll get her and bring her down,” Tess said, too quickly. Josh gave her an odd look, which she ignored. For some reason she couldn’t explain, she just wasn’t comfortable having him go up to her bedroom. Until recently, their bedroom.

  She left him standing there, hurrying out of the kitchen and upstairs.

  When she came back with Emily, Josh was staring out the window, his arms folded across his chest. He turned when he heard footsteps and immediately smiled at the sight of Emily.

  “Thanks for my new sneakers, Daddy,” Emily said, going to him.

  Josh crouched down, hugging his daughter. “You’re welcome, Em.” When the hug ended, he was smiling but Tess recognized the pain in his eyes and her heart ached.

  You stupid son-of-a-bitch, she thought. Don’t give us that sad, pathetic look. You’re the reason we’re not a whole family anymore.

  She pinched the thought off, surprised that she could still have so much hostility about the divorce.

  “I’ll see you next week, okay?” Josh was saying to Emily.

  “Okay.”

  “You be good for your mom, huh?”

  Emily laughed as if the suggestion were a preposterous one. As if she would ever be anything but good the laugh seemed to say.

  Standing up, Josh ruffled her hair before returning his gaze to Tess. “Call me if you find anything out.” He nodded towards the refrigerator.

  “Will do.”

  Both she and Emily watched him, standing in the open doorway until his car was out of sight. Once it was gone, Tess looked down at Em. “Feel like going shopping, kiddo?”

  “At night?”

  “It’s not that late.”

  Emily pursed her lips, as though she had to think long and hard about her answer. Finally, she said, “Toy shopping?”

  Tess laughed. “One new toy. And nothing extravagant.”

  “Extragant?”

  “Ex-trav-a-gant. I mean, nothing fancy.” When Emily pouted out her lower lip, Tess gave it a gentle tug and said, “You’d better be careful. A bird might come along and poop on the ledge.”

  That got
Emily giggling and they went back inside for Tess’s purse and Emily’s new white sneakers.

  It was 2:55 am when Emily shook Tess awake. “Mommy wake up!”

  Tess grumbled, sniffed. Her nose was runny again and her head hurt. Damn sinuses. “What is it, honey?” she asked, rolling over to face Emily, who stood rigidly beside the bed, a small silhouette in the dark. “Did you have a bad dream?”

  “No.” Emily wasn’t crying, but she sounded close. “It’s the flies. You have to help me, mommy!”

  A mention of flies and Tess was instantly 100% awake. She sat up and touched her daughter’s arm. “What about the flies?”

  “I can’t catch them all. You have to help!”

  Confused, Tess said, “What? What do you mean, you can’t catch them all?”

  Emily grabbed her mother’s hand and pulled. “Get up, Mommy! I need you!”

  The desperation in Emily’s voice made Tess throw back the covers and swing her legs over the edge of the bed. “Sweetie, tell me what’s going on? Did a fly bite you?”

  “No!” Emily whined, closer to crying now. “Please, Mommy. Come on!”

  “Okay. Okay, honey. Just relax.” Tess rose and let herself be led from the bedroom and down the hall. She was surprised to see all the upstairs lights on and one glance at the staircase told her that the lights downstairs were also burning. “What’s going on, Emily?”

  “In here.”

  She expected that Emily was going to lead her into her own bedroom but instead, the girl pulled her into the bathroom adjacent to her room.

  Once they were in the bathroom, Tess squinting against the light, Emily released her mother’s hand and stepped back against the wall, her eyes wide and shiny. Concerned, Tess stepped forward and touched her forehead, expecting a fever. But her daughter’s head was cool to the touch. If anything, it was too cool. “You feel okay, sweetie?”

  Emily shook her head and pointed to the toilet. Tess turned, saw nothing unusual. The lid was closed, a soft, padded seat she’d bought just for Emily, brightly decorated with her favorite cartoon characters, SpongeBob and his pals. She glanced back at Emily.