Amber by Dan-Dwayne Spencer (e book reader .TXT) 📕

Without another word, she took my hand and led me out of the tent. Outside, after being in Phoenix’s spectacular presence, everything appeared muddled and dull; even daylight took on a brown haze. Perhaps when I got back to the commune, I would find a way to sort out what Phoenix said.

“The Book of Uriel, that could be it,” Flower said as she took my arm again. “I read something about it somewhere, but I can’t remember what it was right now.”

Behind us a carny yelled, “Tell Mr. Cumberland, we need some patch money over here. Johnny Law just arrived, and he wants his cut.”

Flower leaned around the corner of the tent and pulled back, hiding. “It’s Sheriff Briggs. He’s here.” She pointed toward the Ferris wheel. “Stay out of the center of the midway. Stick as close to the attractions as you can, and with a bit of luck, he won’t see us.”

In silence, we headed toward the back gate where the van was parked. What the angel said weighed on me. I had been sent with a purpose. My arrival at the commune wasn’t by chance. I had no eerie hallucinations directly relating to what Phoenix said, but with certainty, I knew most of it was the truth. I could feel it.

Even though I was holding Flower’s hand, an icy depression overtook me. I felt like a spectacle from one of the sideshows. Between us and the back gate stood every cursed human from the tented attractions. The disfigured freaks stood out in front of their tents, staring at me as we passed. It was like they had all been informed of my presence and were waiting to just get a glimpse of me. I was about to lose it and start running for the gate when the bearded woman reached over and lightly caressed my forearm. Her touch felt gentle and kind.

A four-armed girl leaned over the rail separating the midway from her booth, trying to get a look at my eyes. She reached my direction, and I felt a surge of compassion rush over me. An eight or nine-year-old kid, wearing acrobatic tights and a thin white gauze over his face, climbed a flagpole as if to peer over the crowd.

The tattooed man, wearing a swimsuit much smaller than mine, stood on his platform calling out, “Prophet, bless us for we are cursed.”

The snake woman reached out with both hands as her python wrapped around her waist and curled about one arm. Her eyes were kind and sad. The very sight of her filled me with a dark depression.

I knew the hour was almost up. It was like my heart counted down the seconds before the clock would strike twelve. Flower may have felt the same because her pace quickened.

We approached the end of the midway where the Hoochie Coochie girls danced. Homer stepped in front of us, and said, “A friendly tour, indeed.” Behind him, the girls didn’t gaze at me in admiration like the freaks did, but danced more provocatively than before. Homer cracked a grin, and said, “Flower, you better leave before time runs out. Remember, what’s left at the carnival belongs to the carnival. Who knows if you could beat the curse this time? Phoenix is growing in power by the day.”

He winked at me. It gave me a strange feeling somewhere in the pit of my abdomen. Then he wagged his head in the girls’ direction. Their bodies hypnotically undulated in rhythmic gyrations. I looked away and saw Jimmy and Roger standing in the crowd of mesmerized young men leering at the Hoochie Coochie dancers’ sweaty, grinding hips. I called to Flower, “There. Look there.” All the while pointing at my friends.

She nodded, and we ran in their direction. “The hour is almost up. We have only seconds left before the clock strikes twelve.”

We each grabbed an arm, I had Roger and Flower had Jimmy. Together we pulled the boys away from the sideshow. Homer and Calypso broke away and chased us while the other continued the sultry hypnotic swaying to the pounding of a drum.

We ran, struggling to pull the boys toward the gate. Flower shoved Jimmy my way and said, “Help him. I’ll delay Homer and his slut. If they catch us while we’re inside the gate, then the boys are doomed.” I dared a glance back and saw Mr. Carter, the cook at the commune, standing in the crowd at the Hoochie Coochie sideshow. He stood slack-jawed, staring at the dancing girl shimmying her shoulders. I wanted to go back for him, but there was no time.

Putting Mr. Carter out of my mind for the moment, I focused on the gate. Beyond it, Rose stood waiting. Jimmy lifted his head toward her and something visibly happened. He snapped out of the hypnotic trance and began running on his own. As for me, without having to all-out drag Dugan, my speed increased. I looked up in time to see Jimmy grab Rose up in a hug before I gave Roger a huge shove, pushing him through the metal archway—the clock struck twelve and chimed.

The world darkened, like a cloud passed between Heaven and Earth. Beyond the gate, everything froze in place. Even birds hung effortlessly in the air without motion.

The clock chimed one and two.

I stumbled forward, my accelerated momentum heaving me onward as I followed Roger. Unexpectedly, I crashed into a hard surface. It felt like I ran headlong into an unbreakable sheet of bulletproof glass.

The clock’s chime rang three and four as I regained my wits.

Reaching toward the arched entrance of the carnival, my fingertips pressed the barrier. Similar to twinkle lights behind frosted glass—it sparkled with my touch.

The clock chimed five and six.

Mr. Dark said, Flower warned you. His words sounded frightened. I told you not