“Yeah,” Levering continued. “We may have gotten a couple of other similars. Woman was killed this time. Locals are stumped. Sent us a note about it. It’s attached. Lauren really wanted to check it out, but she’s got enough on her plate, so I gave it to you.” As he headed out with his mind on other things, he said, “Let me know if it’s anything.” And he was gone.
Hutch was bemused, quoted The Wizard of Oz, “My, but people come and go so quickly here.”
I looked over the file a moment longer, then drew a deep breath. I was puzzling over what Lilly had said. She was still speed-reading her journals. “Lilly, are you certain it was that man Mitchell you saw three years ago?” She nodded without looking up. I explained to Hutch, “Someone Prashant was just talking about. Prashant was suspicious about—”
“He had l-leaves on his shoulders,” Lilly added.
Hutch smiled, beginning to dismiss Lilly’s recollection. But I knew better. I frowned, prodding, “. . . Mitchell had leaves on his shoulders?” She nodded again. “What kind of leaves?”
“M-maple.” Lilly turned a page. “Little gold ones.”
Hutch’s smile evaporated. “Sounds like an army major.”
“Lilly, did Mitchell have a uniform? Like an army man?”
She turned another page, intent on her speed-reading. “Mmm hmm.”
Hutch’s eyes met mine, shaking his head, confused. “Who is this Mitchell guy?”
My frown deepened as I considered that Prashant’s suspicions about this man, Mitchell, might possibly have some substance. Finally I said, “That seems to be a very good question.”
5
CHANGELINGS
Lisa McLane. . .
This was an unusual day. To say the very least.
My beloved Charley and I were walking through the woods toward our hideaway on the abandoned farm. It was a very warm and beauteous August afternoon. We hadn’t been back in more than a month, since Avery’s Comet. Charley pointed ahead toward a butterfly on a fallen tree. He’d told me how they were called “nurse logs” because as they slowly deteriorated, they provided a bounty of nurturing energy for the new growth springing up around and through them. How could I not adore such a philosophical young man?
Charley eased quietly across the loam beneath our feet toward the butterfly. Then he cupped his hands around it, ever so gently. He was very careful not to harm its delicate yellow-and-black wings. He gently held it out to show me. This was one of the primary reasons I loved Charley: he was the manliest of football players, yet he still appreciated a butterfly’s fragility. With our foreheads touching, we marveled at the wispy, fairylike creature, then Charley opened his hands and set it free.
We smiled and continued our walk and talk about classes. “History’s not a problem. Mr. Castenares is terrific—but biology! God! I hate Navarro, she can be so nasty.”
“Hey, I can help you with biology, Lisa,” he said as he grabbed me. I squealed gleefully.
“No, Charley! That tickles. And I know what kind of biology you’re talking about.”
He put on his endearing pouty face. “Aww Lise, I thought you liked me.”
“Well, I don’t!” I said emphatically. Then I pressed my nose to his. “. . . I love you, Charley Flinn.” Then I kissed him sweetly, and he returned it with tenderness. We had discovered a year earlier the enjoyment of the French style of kissing. Ours was wonderfully intimate, yet always respectful and gentle. We were both on the conservative side when it came to sex. Charley even more than me. The day before the comet arrived had been our first time. Neither of us wanted to die without having made love to each other. We did it safely, of course. It was gentle, sincere, and right.
After our kiss we looked deeply into each other’s eyes, seeing so much promise and a long, beguiling future together. Then we walked on through the forest, holding hands.
“I really can help you with biology class,” Charley insisted. “If you’ll help me with English.” He looked down, shaking his head. “Man, I wish Joseph Conrad had stayed in Poland. I mean, like Apocalypse Now was a cool movie, I guess—but Heart of Darkness is so dense and—”
“Charley . . . ?” My voice sounded very strange even to me. Because of what I had seen.
He glanced at me and saw that I was focused on something ahead of us. Then he saw it, too. And gasped with wonder. “What the heck . . . ?”
We were looking toward our special place in complete and utter amazement.
In the month since last we had been there, it had been impossibly transformed. Our ordinary, scruffy Georgia forest hideaway had somehow become a spectacular rainforest-like garden! It was truly breathtaking. Beyond belief!
We looked at each other in utter astonishment. Then we walked tentatively closer, slack-jawed, in among the plants. We marveled at many that we barely recognized because they were larger, more lavish, and thriving so thickly we couldn’t even see our pond, which we knew was a hundred yards ahead of us. Many plants seemed familiar, but others were like entirely new variations. And they were all incredibly verdant and lush. The dense, explosive growth had formed a gorgeous, jungle-like canopy overtop us. I realized I was breathing more rapidly because I was getting scared. My voice was trembling, whispering, “Charley . . . this is impossible.”
“But it’s here! It’s real!” Charley’s voice was unsteady. He was as nervous as I. And equally bewildered. “This is like totally amazing, Lisa. Look!” He was touching a large plant that reached his shoulder. “This used to be like only a foot tall!” He looked around and above us. “How’d everything get so huge?!”
Then I saw something down lower. “Everything didn’t. Look.” I touched a plant that was definitely withered. “These have been sorta choked off by all the hardy ones.”
“Yeah, but who cares? Look at the rest! How in the heck could this—?”
There was a sudden noise in the undergrowth. I jumped out of my skin! “Ohmigod! What’s that?! What’s that?!”
Charley was startled, too, but he grabbed a heavy stick and disappeared into the thick, green foliage, investigating. I lost sight of him as he shouted back, “I don’t see anything, but—Holy shit!”
Suddenly there was silence. I waited a moment, my fear growing. There was still no sound. “. . . Charley?” All the birds had gone hushed as well. The silence grew more palpable around me. I felt a cold sweat glossing my skin. “Charley? What’s wrong?”
“Lisa!” He shouted from within the undergrowth. “C’mere!”
I moved forward cautiously, spreading the thick, beautiful flora with my trembling hands as I took one guarded step at a time. Then, feeling much relief, I saw him in the midst of the dense greenery.
“Look at these, Lise!” He was lifting one branch of an imposing bush, six feet tall and equally wide. The branches were laden with clumps of knobbly red fruit the size of lemons.
“What are they?” I was completely puzzled by them. “They look a little like wild strawberries, but it’s too late in the season . . . ?”
“Yeah, right. But there it is!” He laughed. “And whoever saw any this big?!” He picked one off the bush, smelled it, and then opened his mouth.
I grabbed his arm. “No! Charley? Are you crazy?! Put that down! It might be poison!”
“Naw, Lisa. Smell it. Go on.”
I did, and blinked. Because it did indeed have a luscious strawberry fragrance. “But still, Charley—”
“C’mon, Lise.” He smiled, unworried. “Isn’t that like the best strawberry you ever smelled?” He lifted it to his lips.
“Charley! Don’t you do it!”
“Take it easy.” He opened his mouth.
“Charley!”
He bit off a small piece.
“I can’t believe that you . . .” I watched closely as he pursed his lips slightly, moving the fruit around in his mouth, tasting thoughtfully, getting a sense of the flavor. The satisfaction I saw growing on his face gave me some small measure of relief. Then he nodded, swallow
ed it, and took a much larger bite and chewed it eagerly.
“Charley, no. You should wait until you see if—”
He swallowed the larger bite, then he took a long, satisfied breath as I watched him fearfully. He shook his head, gently dismissive, saying, “See. I told you there was—” Suddenly his face contorted grotesquely! He gasped, dropped the fruit, grabbed his throat with both hands!
I panicked, clutched at his shirt. “Charley! Charley! No!”
He was turning beet red, choking. He dropped to his knees, taking me down with him as he emitted a startling, menacing growl.
I was frantic, shaking him, screaming, “Charley! Oh my God! Oh my God!”
He began convulsing on the ground, his arms, legs, whole body, having a seizure! I kept screaming tearfully, “Charley! Charley!”
He suddenly stopped. Dead still. Eyes open, unmoving. I stared, terrified, whimpering through my tears, “Charley! No!”
Then he flashed a grin up at me. “That was one great strawberry.”
“What!” I slugged his chest very hard, and I fell back, totally furious. “That was not funny!” But laughter was bubbling up through my anger. “You scared me to death!”
Charley pushed up onto one elbow among the wildflowers. He scrutinized the strange strawberry. “I have never tasted anything like this in my life. It’s absolutely great! Here!” He held it out to me.
I shook my head and pushed his hand away. “There’s no way.”
Charley took another bite. “Lisa! Do I look like I’ve been exactly poisoned? Taste it.”
“No, Charley.”
“Li-sah, we eat ’em all the time. From this same bush!”
I gazed over at the greatly outsize wild strawberry bush. “But it, it’s . . . different now.”
“Yeah! It’s just the best damn strawberry you’ll ever have.”
I looked carefully at the wild strawberry in his hand. Yes, it was bigger than the ones we always picked and ate here. It did appear perfect, ripe and succulent. I could even smell its delicious, inviting fragrance from where I sat. He held it out again. “It’s really okay, Lise. In fact, it’s great.” It was very tempting. Finally, very tentatively, I took it. I examined all sides of it with utmost care. Smelled it again. Then I looked at Charley. He gave me a little upward nod of encouragement.
I breathed a taut, worrisome sigh. Then I took the tiniest possible mouse bite.
Charley guffawed. “Oh, well careful y’don’t choke there, Lisa.” Then with a wide-eyed wiggle of his head, he said, “Will you take a serious bite?!”
I looked at the strange fruit, screwed up my courage. And then I took a real bite. I chewed it very slowly and warily, my eyes darting around insecurely as my mouth and taste buds worked. Slowly my tension began to ease. I finally admitted, “You’re right. It is the best strawberry I’ve ever tasted.”
“Hey, would your man lie to ya?” He patted my knee and stood. “I’m getting a couple more.” He picked a second strawberry for himself and another for me. We sat among the abundance of flowers, beneath the lush green garden canopy. And together we ate the fruit.
A few minutes later, as was our custom since we’d been but children, Charley had stripped down to nothing and dived into the pond. He swam among the lily pads, which were also strangely large. He held one up. “God! Look at the size of it!”
I shook my head in wonder as I slipped out of my jeans, T-shirt, and underwear. I was proud of my “lithe form,” as Charley had immortalized it in his lyrical poem. But even though we used to swim naked together when we were little, I had grown somewhat shy in later years. Charley knew that, and I was aware how he politely confined his glances to moments when I wasn’t looking. His poem made clear that he admired my body, but Charley was determined to be a gentleman and not rush me into anything except swimming. He shouted, “C’mon in, Lise, it’s great!”
I suddenly lost my balance and swayed a little. “Whoa. I . . . I feel kinda light-headed.”
“Must be from seeing my incredible bod,” he joked.
I eased my foot into the pond. The chilly water climbed slowly up my tanned calf as Charley snuck a couple more quick glances. I shivered. “Ooo, it’s cold.”
Charley grinned sweetly. “C’mon over, honey. We’ll snuggle.”
But suddenly I got very dizzy. I sat down on the bank. “Charley, I am really light-headed,” I said giggling.
He swam over toward me and suddenly blinked several times himself. “Whoa. Me, too. Feels kinda cool, huh?”
I lay back onto the lush, mossy bank, blinking heavily. “Maybe it’s like a sugar rush? Those strawberries were really sweet.” I felt exceptionally giddy. Charley pulled up onto the bank and lay beside me, slipping one leg over mine. Our bodies intertwined.
He yawned broadly. “Yeah, yeah, that’s probably it. Let’s just hang here a minute . . .”
We smiled at each other, feeling very woozy but warm together and extremely content as we drifted into sleep.
When my eyes suddenly snapped open, I saw the sun had set.
The sky was nearly dark. A half-moon was visible through the amazing new canopy of branches interlaced together up above me. At first I thought I’d dreamt it all. But looking very slowly and carefully around me, I perceived that it was undeniably real. That our childhood hideaway really had metamorphosed into this macabre jungle-rainforest.
And it was unnaturally quiet. In the gathering darkness with only the moonlight filtering down, all the plants that had grown so huge and dense, that had seemed so ominous before, no longer troubled me at all. I wasn’t frightened in the least now. In fact it was exactly the opposite: I felt completely at home in this new environment. I somehow understood that this remarkably transformed realm was my personal domain. That I was its empress. I slowly realized that part of the miraculous strangeness of my new surroundings was not in what I was observing. It was how. I understood that, as unearthly as my surroundings had become, an equally strange and powerful transformation had taken place in me. Everything seemed—I searched for a word—keener? Yes. Sharper. Darker.
I slowly turned to look at Charley. I wasn’t at all surprised to see his eyes already riveted on mine.
Charley Flinn, 17. . .
Lisa’s eyes had a glint like nothing I’d ever seen. She had this dark, superconfident, almost scary smile. She was focused, intense. Like a spring coiled up really, really tight. Or a panther about to pounce. And I realized that I felt exactly the same.
Lisa McLane. . .
My formerly sweet, mild Charley now looked positively predatory. His normally warm brown eyes now had a sinister, dangerously sexual gleam in them. I sensed that my own looked similar.
I also noted how I wasn’t in the least intimidated by him. I instinctively knew that I was more than a match for him. Or anyone. I felt a new razor-edge on my entire personality. On my entire being. It was inexplicable. And exhilarating. Regal.
We stared hard at each other. Studying. Taking measure how much the other felt it. It was like we had gone to sleep as infants, awakening as more than mature, experience-hardened adults.
I was suddenly a me I couldn’t have even imagined a few hours earlier. And I saw that he was, too.
It was like my brain had jump-started. Had flashed alive with a flurry of sparks. I felt possessed of fresh, raw, extreme native intelligence. My mind felt electrified with millions of fiery new neural connections. Ideas, possibilities, schemes, all buzzed around in my head like myriad electrons at the speed of light. Anything and everything seemed within my grasp. It was brilliant. The feeling of pure superiority was tangible and potent.
Charley Flinn. . .
Lisa and I lay there riveted on each other like two alpha tigers meeting in this strange rainforest. Like we were circling, checking out the opponent’s strength and determination. Eager to test ourselves. Each confident of victory. Each assured of achieving domination. Our breathing was deep. Measured. And there was rising sexual tension. Powerful.
Visceral. Growing stronger every second. I could literally taste it. I knew she could, too.
I saw the tip of her tongue put a little shine on her upper lip. Then she whispered a command, “I want you.”
Lisa McLane. . .
Charley’s whispered reply was equally confident, cocky, heated. “Lucky you.”
We leapt into it. Nearly tearing each other apart as each of us tried to dominate the sexuality. It was like nothing we’d ever experienced before. I might have been frightened if I wasn’t so entirely consumed by it. And by total self-confidence. In addition to new mental acuity, my physical agility had also increased. My muscles and nerves positively tingled. Clearly his did, too. We rolled back and forth, grasping, kneading, struggling. Our tongues probed deep. Insistently. We were insatiable. Our faces, bodies, were damp with elevating passion.
Charley had never been so hot and hard bodied. My hand squeezed him tighter than ever. I rolled atop him and rode him strenuously. He cupped my breasts in his hands. Pulled me down and took them into his mouth.
I gasped from the erotica. He tried to roll me off, to take command. But my dexterity and determination topped his greater strength. I maintained control. I pressed down harder and harder onto him.
Charley Flinn. . .
I kept shifting my hips back and forth so I could catch all of her. Catch her good. Meet her halfway. Go deep. It was goddamn electrifying.
Lisa McLane. . .
And we built up to a final peak that was like nothing I’d ever known or even imagined: so spectacular, high-voltage, primal that I shrieked/laughed! And again. And a third time.
Then we collapsed together, sucking in great gulps of air. Our bodies’ pulsations and shivers continued boiling and churning furiously.
As the crest passed and the intensity very gradually ebbed, we remained locked in a tight embrace. Our bodies kept twitching, quivering from the exertion of the encounter.
Charley Flinn. . .
We’d fuckin’ amazed ourselves. We couldn’t even move for a long time. Then slowly began to uncoil. Lisa laid herself forward, down on me, but still coupled and breathing hard. Still ready for more, just like I was. Totally psyched. Physically and mentally.
The Darwin Variant Page 10