Lena heard the voices just as she was locking the back door to the restaurant, and a sickening pit of despair opened up in her stomach as she realized she'd left it too late this time. She should have moved on a week ago, maybe even two... but after Carlos quit, Luis didn't really have anyone to close up for him anymore, and she couldn't leave him to work double shifts. She'd convinced herself that maybe they were gone for good this time, maybe they'd given up or she'd managed to shake them somewhere along that 1,600 mile drive from Chicago to Copper Basin, Nevada... but then she heard the whispers again.
"Tu nobis quasi signum in nocte..." The soft, sibilant chant echoed down the alleyway, creeping into Lena's ears like a spider crawling inside her head, and she instantly ran the opposite direction. It wasn't easy-her long brown legs stumbled and splayed, yearning all on their own to turn back and investigate the sound of the voice behind her. She had to consciously think about moving each one in turn, dragging her body away from the source of the chant like a mother pulling a reluctant toddler out of the toy aisle.
Lena knew even before she reached the mouth of the alley what she would find there, and she steeled herself to listen as she sprinted closer to the street. She tried to tune out the words, "...et respondendum est, vocatio, et aditus..." and just listen to the direction they came from. She couldn't get this wrong, not when they were this close on her heels; if she turned the wrong way and ran straight into one of the Family, there was a good chance she would never get away again.
But the sound echoed strangely through the fog-god, how had Lena missed the fog? Was it there when she took out the trash twenty minutes ago? Was it already gathering in wisps and cloudlets when she arrived at the restaurant for her shift? She knew it didn't matter, not when they were this close and she needed to run run
run,
but she couldn't stop sifting through her memories to find the warnings she'd missed. She cursed under her breath, gasping out profanities that she didn't have the energy to shout.
When she got out to the street, Lena kept right on running, praying to whatever deities had protected her so far that there wasn't a car coming. She was in luck; Copper Basin wasn't exactly the kind of town that had heavy traffic at night. She sprinted across the street and stumbled along the sidewalk, the voice of the Family following in her ears. "...ut suscipat te, dicimus tibi cum spiritu pietatis..." She told herself not to listen. But she didn't listen to herself.
The fog was getting thicker now, turning the familiar landmarks Lena had spent months getting to know into vague, menacing shapes. The chant came out of the mist from all directions, one voice after another joining in with, "Tu exaudies nos, et morari, ubi vos vires existo instituo." She couldn't tell whether it was just the weird acoustics of the shrouded night playing tricks on her ears, or whether they were circling in on her, closing in from all sides, ready to end their pursuit once and for all.
Lena decided not to wait to find out. At the next storefront, she stopped just long enough to bind up her long, dark, curly hair into a ponytail before pulling her way up and onto the awning that just about every business in Copper Basin used to keep the desert sun at bay. From there, she carefully scooted over to the nearest window sill and pulled herself upright, then reached for the window above it. The whole time, she tried to picture one of the Family climbing after her with their gaunt limbs and heavy velvet robes. It seemed impossible. She hoped it was.
When she reached the roof, Lena took a moment to try to get her bearings. It wasn't easy; the thick fog and the darkness made her feel like she was on an island in the middle of an endless sea of mist and shadows, surrounded on all sides by the whispering chant that made her brain itch and throb with insistent need. "Mox, te currere et non amplius, Mox, nos erit ut unum." The words slipped into her head with an oily familiarity, like the way Mitch Farmer thought he could always put his hand on her shoulder every time he walked into the restaurant. Lena shuddered, trying to shake off the lethargy that gripped her exhausted limbs and concentrate on her whereabouts.
She knew that the patch of mist directly behind her was the street. On the other side of the street was the restaurant. Her car was parked out front of the restaurant. If Lena could go across the roofs to the street on her left, she could maybe get past the Family-her mind went numb with terror for a moment as she pictured a dozen skeletal figures in long purple robes, drawing closer and closer to the building until they surrounded it with their bodies and their insistent droning voices. She forced the mental image away. She could get to her car. She had her keys. She could drive away.