She parked the battered green pickup in the farthest corner of the parking lot and left it with the windows down and keys in the ignition. Just as she'd found it when she stole it from him.

"We're home," said her daughter just awakening.

"Not yet honey."

Pulling the young girl behind, she headed towards the front door. It appeared to be a bar or nightclub, but that might mean he wouldn't think to look for them here. The sign above the door read, The 13th Annual Halloween Party and Costume Event.

Two steps inside the door she realized her mistake. A cover charge. After thirteen dollars just seven would remain.

"How ya doin'? I'm Al. The bartender. Wendy had to tinkle so I'm coverin' the door for her." He eyed her with doubt then had a look of understanding. "Hey, no problem lady. Those with exceptional costumes get in free."

"Costumes?"

"Yeah." He waved around the room. "We got your vampires, witches, zombies, werewolves and such," he grinned, "but you are the sole participants who came as a mother and child fleeing in terror. I think we'll clear enough tonight we can let your cover slide."

A young woman, Wendy she assumed, walked up. "Hey Al, thanks. I needed that. You have people at the bar complaining they are dying of thirst."

"Nuts most of 'em were dead before they got here. Come on," he took the young girls hand, "let's get you and mamma-san a table up by the bar."
The table proved to be clean, but worn, and decorated with nothing more than two waiting glasses of soda resting on orange and black napkins. Subdued lighting made it hard to see details, but what they could see fascinated the child.

"Mommie, those peoples looks so real."

At her daughter's comment she stared into the gloom and smoke. Long snouts, hairy faces, sharp teeth with lolling tongues; pale complexions, fangs and crimson stained lips; vampires and werewolves, a Halloween staple, mingling with bikers and ladies of scanty dress pretending to be…wood nymphs? Even the leaves placed with such strategy looked real.

She jumped when the pumpkin crashed onto the table.

"Ayup, missy. It's amazing what they can do with latex these days." A man both gaunt and cadaverous. "Perkins the name. I be the principal of the school in these parts. Brought you a pumpkin. Grew it myself. Mrs. Perkins will be around in a mite." Without another word, or a look back, he turned and walked off.

His prediction came true in less than a minute. The woman was ageless, but not in a good way. No laugh lines, no frown lines, and more to point, no expression. If a smile or frown had ever touched her features it had left no mark. She stared at the mother, the daughter and then the pumpkin.

"I'm not sure we should be here…" The mother started.

"Nonsense. Here is where you are and where you are is where you should be," said Mrs. Perkins in a chill voice. "Do you like pumpkins?" She asked of the child.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, and manners too. How refreshing. This is no ordinary pumpkin." She patted the huge present.

"How comes it's not orange?"

"As I said, it is not ordinary. A Perkins Pumpkin is red. A glorious red. Red as the finest rose. Red as a desert sunset. Red as"

"blood." Finished the girl.

"Yes."

"Are we going to make a Jack 'O Lantern?"

"No, there are many imitators of Jack of the Lantern on this night. They are pretty, but do not offer your mother that which she needs the most."

"And what might that be?" asked the mother.

"Peace of mind. A champion. Protection." The old woman raised her hand and a thin blade appeared with a click. "The women in my cov.. in my quilting circle say I make the best."

The hand with the blade descended and pieces of pumpkin started falling to the table and the floor.

"The Jack O' Lantern, as you know, is the creation of Stingy Jack. It wasn't a pumpkin, but a turnip. No waxen candle, rather an ember of hell-fire inside to light Stingy's way. This," she pointed to the engraved and now hollow creation, "is a cross between a Simulacrum and a Ward. We will call it a Nex Lux Lucis, for lack of a better title."

"Ow!"

"Oh, dear." Mrs. Perkins said. "How clumsy of me. I have nicked your hand." She produced a handkerchief of the whitest linen. "Please, allow me."

"No, it's all right" Too late. Mrs. Perkins had the cloth pressed to the cut and her frail-looking hands were like steel cages. After a few moments she released the mother's injured hand. On the linen a dime-sized circle of red and on the hand nothing more than a slight pink scar, disappearing even as she watched.

The mother clapped her hand to her mouth, muttered, "Bathroom right back," in a horrified voice and fled towards the restrooms.

The old woman looked at the young girl.

"It's amazing. Your mother turned off the interstate onto an unmarked two-lane, drove five miles to a town that isn't even on the maps, across the town on side streets the locals seldom use and here we all are."

The girl reached out and took the handkerchief, laying it flat on the table. Picking a small piece of pared pumpkin she placed it on the blood stain and folded it into a tidy package.

The old woman lifted the lid of the pumpkin and the youngster set the bundle within. A brief flash of green light spilled out from the carved openings. The youngster remained silent.

"Of course any young practitioner who has The Sight could see the marks laid out along the path and, in a discrete way of course, guided their mother to those more advanced oh, welcome back, dearie. Are you well?"

The mother sat down, the color in her face still gone. "Yes. Yes, just felt a bit faint and nauseous." She looked around the table. "Where did your pumpkin go?"

Mrs. Perkins laughed without a smile. "Not to worry. I'm sure it will turn up again in no time. I suggest you relax and listen to the music. The DJ is famous in these parts." She hesitated. "Infamous in other places."

She reached and patted the mom's hand. The mother flinched. "You two must be starving. Please. Try the pot luck buffet. The line is short and the selection long." Mrs. Perkins indicated a woman talking to the bartender. "Even Abigail brought one of her special dishes. You simply must broaden your horizons with the local…cuisine."

When she returned with two paper plates brimming with food she found Mrs. Perkins gone, but the pumpkin back in its place of honor in the center of the table.

The mother and daughter spent the next hour alone, until Mrs. Perkins returned with a person in tow.

"Nice costume."

"Sorry ma'am. It's not a costume. I'm Chief Cody, law enforcement coordinator for the area."

"I'm so sorry." She could feel the skin on her face burning.

"No problem. Understandable mistake today. Mrs. Perkins mentioned I might talk to you." He pulled a notebook from his shirt pocket and studied it, then nodded to himself.

"By any chance do you know a Bill or William Taggart?"

The color in her face fled as quickly as it had come. "Ah, yes. He is, or was, my boyfriend."

"Was?"

"We parted ways."

"I see. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news. "

"Oh, God, what now?"

"Traffic accident. Up on the interstate."

"How bad?"

"Eye witnesses say the other vehicle was traveling the wrong way, lights off and at a high rate of speed. Here it gets strange." He looked at the notebook once more. "Hit by a green pickup that he also owned. The vehicles were totaled, but the Highway Patrol found no bodies in either of them."

The woman's eyes widened.

"I must advise you not to get your hopes up. From the amount of blood and other things they found in the Chevy there is no way an occupant could have survived. Of course we don't have a positive I.D. on anyone involved. Now, the green pickup had been reported stolen. Maybe the other" Cody gave her a sharp look.

"If I may ask, how did you get here this evening?"

"The same way she's leaving." Mrs. Perkins sniffed. "Mr. Perkins and I brought her and her daughter and we'll be taking her home from where we all came." An actual smile came to her lips. Chief Cody took a step back. "Mr. Perkins has hired her at the school; the same school her talented daughter will attend."

"Talented?" Asked Chief Cody.

"Talented," said Mrs. Perkins.

"Then let me be the first to welcome you to Cross Corners," Cody said with a slight bow.

The daughter threw her arms around her mother's neck. "See mommy, I told you we were home."