All The Pretty Dead Girls. John Manning

breasts. A charm bracelet jangled as she punched numbers into the register. On her heavy left breast a name tag read MYRNA LEE.

      “New York plates,” Myrna Lee said, gesturing with her head out the window. “You’re a long way from home.” Her voice was high-pitched and her accent thick. “Don’t see many of those around here.”

      Sue offered the clerk a small smile. “I want to get twenty in gas, too.” Act normal, like anyone else. That’s the most important thing. Don’t act funny in any way.

      The register beeped as Myrna Lee typed that in. “Twenty-three forty-seven.” The clerk grimaced, her lips pulling back to expose crooked yellow teeth. “Where ya heading, so far away from home?”

      She’s just making conversation to be polite. Or—she could be one of them…

      A chill went down her spine. “Los Angeles,” she lied, handing over a twenty and a ten, trying to keep her hand from shaking. “Going to go live with my boyfriend.”

      Myrna Lee took her money, but kept her beady eyes fixed on her face.

      “How far is the next town, or where I can get something to eat?” she asked the clerk, who finally averted her eyes. She felt could feel her heart pounding.

      “We-ell, let me think.” Myrna Lee put her change down on the counter and tapped her chin. “There’s Amite, Shiloh, Independence, then Tickfaw, and then Hammond. I reckon it depends on how hungry you are. There are more choices in Hammond, I’d imagine. College town.”

      “And how far is that?” Don’t act too interested in Hammond. Even if she isn’t one of them, they could always ask her, and you don’t want to give too much away.

      “Twenty, thirty minutes maybe. It ain’t far.”

      “And New Orleans?”

      “New Orleans? ’Bout another hour past Hammond.” Myrna Lee grimaced again. “It ain’t the same since the hurricane, though. You just keep taking 55 past Hammond, and then you go east on I-10. You pick it up out in the swamp. I-10’ll take you right to New Orleans.”

      “Thanks.”

      “Don’t mention it. You have a happy Christmas now.”

      Sue wished her the same, then picked up the doughnuts and coffee and walked back out to the car. Hooking the nozzle into the tank and setting the latch so she didn’t have to hold it, she wolfed down the doughnuts. Then she took another long sip of the coffee. When the gas tank clicked that she was full, she replaced the nozzle back onto the pump and climbed back into the car.

      She sat there for a few moments after starting the ignition. It was still raining, and an eighteen-wheeler flew past on I-55, throwing up a huge spray of water.

      “Almost there,” she said out loud, and then felt panic starting to creep into her brain.

      What if this was all for nothing? What if there’s nothing she can do to help me? What if she’s not even there? What if there’s nothing anyone can do to help me? I don’t even know why I’m going to see Dr. Marshall—but she is an expert, and the girl said she could help me. But this could still all just be a fool’s errand, the delusions of a crazy girl, a crazy girl who claims she—

      “Stop it,” Sue said, pounding the steering wheel with both hands. “This isn’t going to help.”

      Her eyes filled with tears. Sue sat there for a full minute and let the panic sweep over her. Her body began to tremble, and she put her head down on the steering wheel and let the tears come. After a few moments, she took a deep breath and regained control of herself. “Okay, that’s enough of that,” she said aloud.

      She glanced out the window. Myrna Lee had come outside and was staring at her, smoking a cigarette. Sue wiped at her face, smiled, and gave Myrna Lee a friendly wave, even though fear was starting to inch its insidious way back into her mind. So much for acting normal, she thought grimly as she slipped the car into gear and rolled out of the parking lot. I need to put some distance between me and this place.

      There was no traffic coming, so she sped up as she headed back onto the highway. The eighteen-wheeler was just taillights in the mist far ahead of her. She got the car back up to seventy-one miles an hour and turned the cruise control back on, then allowed herself to relax a little bit. But within a few miles, she was back to glancing in the rearview mirror every minute or so to make sure no one was behind her.

      I’m being stupid, Sue reminded herself again. Even if they are coming after me, how would I know it was them behind me? I wouldn’t know until it was too late, until they had me—

      “Stop it,” she said, and turned the radio up louder.

      Angels we have heard on high, sweetly singing o’er the plain…

      She wished so much she had managed to grab her iPod, or at least a handful of CDs.

      Every muscle, every bone, every joint in her body ached with fatigue. Sue’s eyelids began drooping again. The coffee hadn’t helped at all, other than to churn up more acid in her stomach. She grabbed the pack of Rolaids she’d bought a hundred years ago, it seemed, in North Carolina and chewed on two. Rolling the window all the way down in spite of the rain, she took a long deep breath of cold air. Her hair blew back into a mass of tangles and her teeth began to chatter, but it was better than falling asleep again.

      She flew past the exits for Amite, Tickfaw, and Independence, glancing down at the directions she’d printed off the Internet just before taking off on this nightmare drive. The first Hammond exit wasn’t the right one, so she kept going. The traffic was getting heavier, but it was the second turnoff she wanted. She slowed down at the bottom of the off-ramp and turned left, heading into Hammond. She passed a Lowe’s, a Wal-Mart, and the numerous fast-food places that always gathered in small towns near the highway exit. Her stomach growled again and she thought about going to a drive-through, but dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. I’m almost there. I can worry about getting something to eat after I’ve gotten out of this goddamned car and talked to Dr. Marshall.

      Even though it was early afternoon, the wet streets were packed with cars crawling along as she passed parking lot after parking lot. Christmas shoppers, she thought. Once she had loved Christmas. Once it had been a festive time for her, but now it terrified her.

      She dreaded what might come on Christmas Eve.

      She passed a Raising Cane, a Sonic, a Wendy’s, and the sight almost made her cry again. No, no, you’re almost there, keep going. The road swerved to the right and she followed the curve, and started passing into a residential area. The street she wanted was two blocks past the railroad tracks, and she turned right, watching the house numbers. She struggled to keep her eyes open and focused. She’d gone two blocks when she found the house she wanted, and turned into the driveway, parking behind a black Chevrolet SUV.

      The house was a three-story clapboard Victorian, complete with a cupola. Dormer windows peered out from what was probably a half-attic. A porch ran the distance of the house and curved around it, disappearing behind in the back. The windows were large, and the whole place needed painting. The lawn was also in disrepair, with exposed areas of dirt. Towering pines shot upward with lower branches sparse and brown.

      Yet the windows were lit up with blue Christmas lights, and a huge Christmas tree, unlit, stood in a window at the corner of the house. Gray smoke rose from a chimney. She smiled. Someone must be home.

      Still, she sat in the car for a couple of moments, and felt the fear start to snake through her body again.

      What if this was all for nothing? What if she has no answers for you? What if she thinks you’re crazy, and calls them to tell them you’re here? What if there’s nothing she can do to help you?

      “No,” Sue whispered, gripping the steering wheel with both hands until her knuckles whitened. “Stop it. You’re here.”

      She steeled herself, and got out of the car. It was raining hard again, so she grabbed her backpack and ran up to the