Dominion

by Greg F. Gifune

  “A lot of people have these experiences when they lose someone very close to them. It’s OK to feel these things. You loved Lindsay very deeply, and you miss her.”

  “Jeannie, I’ve seen her.”

  Rather than react as he thought she might, Jeannie folded her hands in her lap and nodded patiently. “You know, I never told you this before, but a few weeks ago, I thought I saw Lindsay too. It’s true. I was at the supermarket and on my way back to the car. OK, actually I was wandering around the parking lot trying to remember which row I parked in, but be that as it may, I noticed a woman getting into a van with a bunch of guys and I thought, my God, it’s her, that’s Lindsay. I remember I thought it strange that she was with four or five men and that they were really seedy looking, like street punks or something, the type of guys Lindsay never would’ve been around, real lowlifes. And it was upsetting because it really looked like her. So much, in fact, that I walked right up to her and called her by name. The woman gave this startled look like she wanted me to get away from her, and suddenly I thought, ‘Lindsay’s gone, that can’t be her, what the hell are you doing?’ It wasn’t really Lindsay at all—it couldn’t be—it was just someone that looked a lot like her, but for those few seconds I had somehow forgotten that. I really thought it was her, I believed it. That doesn’t mean I was crazy, I just so desperately wanted it to be her, to somehow bring her back from the dead or for her death to be a big mistake, something that never happened, my mind played along and had me convinced it really was her. But of course, it wasn’t. I still catch myself picking up the phone now and then to call and tell her something, and I’m halfway through the number before I catch myself. These are normal things, Danny, things we all experience. Some of us just go through them harder or experience them more intensely than others.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” he asked, fear and anger rising in him again. “Who were these men she was with?”

  Jeannie’s mouth fell partially open. She used it as an excuse to wet her lips with her tongue then calmly said, “It wasn’t her, and if you’re standing there telling me you truly believe it was, then we have to get you to a doctor. Wishing something, needing it to be real, doesn’t make it so.”

  “It’s more than that,” Daniel said. “I’ve been getting phone calls from a man claiming he knew her and that she’s still alive.”

  “Are you serious?” Her expression darkened. “Bastard. Who is he?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “God, as if you don’t have enough to deal with. Have you called the police?”

  “It’s not that simple, that’s what I’m trying to tell you.” Daniel returned to the couch and took her hands in his. “Something’s happening, something I don’t understand yet, and I need more time to figure it out. Trust me, there’s more to all this than we know.”

  “Of course, death’s a mystery. None of us truly understand what lies on the other side, if that’s what you mean.” She looked at him with uncertainty. “Is that what you mean?”

  “I went to Lindsay’s grave today, found myself thinking about Dad while I was there.”

  She lowered her eyes. “Another family tragedy.”

  “I started thinking about the day he died.”

  “I’ve always told myself it might’ve been easier if only we’d known the man. Maybe it would’ve been worse, who knows? It’s just so sad to think that our own father was a stranger to us. Yet we were expected to go right to his bedside, say goodbye and just forget he’d divorced our mother, run off and left us too and never given a damn about us one way or the other. I would’ve played that differently than Mom did but...I don’t think she ever really got over the divorce. I remember I didn’t want her to let you go in and see him, you were only thirteen and he was—God, why are we talking about this?”

  “He asked me if I loved him.” Daniel had never told anyone that but Lindsay. On the night he’d told her they’d been in bed, facing each other. His father had rarely been a topic of conversation between them, but she knew the story and that it sometimes haunted him. Lindsay’s eyes caught the pain emanating from his that night, captured it and turned it into something beautiful. She ran her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer, never saying a word, never having to. “Right before he died, he asked me if I loved him.”

  “He asked me the same thing,” Jeannie said.

  “Did you answer him?”

  She gave a sullen nod. “I didn’t have the heart to say anything but yes.”

  “He needed me to answer him too, to tell him, to lie to him even. But I couldn’t. I just stood there gawking at him while he died right in front of me.”

  “You barely knew him. And you were just a kid, a frightened kid.”

  “He was my father. I should’ve answered him.”

  Jeannie sighed, sat back and crossed her legs at the knee. “Lindsay’s death has left you questioning everything, the past, present, future, all of it. That’s not always a bad thing, it can be an integral part of healing, but in your current state of mind it’s—”

  “It was like he was bringing me back to that day for a reason. I think maybe he was trying to help me, to warn me, to look out for me like he was never able to do when he was alive. It’s all tied in to these things going on with Lindsay, I’m sure of it. I don’t know how exactly, but it’s like I’ve come up against some wall, maybe the one that separates the living from the dead. And I think in the final days before the accident, there’s a good chance Lindsay came up against that wall too.”

  “Daniel, sometimes when we experience trauma, we—”

  “Goddamn it, stop psychoanalyzing me and listen.” He stood up. “I’m sorry, I—Jeannie, take your nurse’s cap off and just be my sister a minute, OK? Listen to what I’m telling you. I’m on the verge of something here, and it’s not just trauma or stress. Something else is happening, something real.”

  Jeannie removed her eyeglasses. “I believe you,” she said softly. “OK? I do.”

  Without her glasses, the lines around her eyes became more evident, and as Daniel looked at her, he realized for the first time his sister had started to show signs of aging, that when he looked at her—really looked at her—he no longer saw the twenty or even thirty-something version of her he once had. Without those glasses she became someone else, a close but stripped down version of what he imagined her to be. A mask that once removed revealed life had left her as scarred and weary as anyone else.

  “But you have to understand that a lot of what you’re experiencing right now is happening to you under tremendous amounts of stress and fatigue.” Jeannie rubbed her eyes. “And because of that, you’re not always able to…” Sensing Daniel’s reaction, she slid her glasses back on, perhaps to see him better or maybe to help hide the tears quickly filling her eyes. “Sorry, I—Daniel, I don’t know what else to do.”

  He offered his hand. “Come with me a minute, I want you to listen to something.”

  Jeannie slid her hand into his and allowed him to pull her up from the couch and lead her into the kitchen. Once there, Daniel checked the answering machine. No new messages had come in, but the saved message was still there. “I got this yesterday,” he said. “No voices, no explanation, just these strange sounds. Listen.”

  He retrieved the saved message then hit the PLAY button.

  From the small speaker came soft gurgling noises, the sound of water in gentle motion and steady, rhythmic breathing, all of it draped in echo, as if it were coming from a great distance or depth.

  A look of confusion crossed Jeannie’s face. “Who sent you this?”

  “I don’t know for sure, probably the same guy that’s been calling. Somehow the caller ID missed it, there’s no record of the call even coming in.”

  “This is either completely a wrong number,” she said, “or this individual you’re dealing with has an extremely sick sense of humor.”

  “You know what this is?”

  Jeannie hugged h
erself and nodded. “Womb sounds. They’re womb sounds.”

  He rubbed at the stiffness along his neck in the hopes it might deflect his attention from the horror clawing at his insides. “I don’t…what—”

  “Recordings of the womb,” she explained. “They’re popular these days, you can buy CDs or tapes, some people use them to calm infants or to give a sense of comfort to their baby while they sleep. According to several studies, they can be very therapeutic for newborns. For some people it’s also a sentimental thing, like an ultrasound that shows the baby for the first time. Recordings like these are the first evidence, the first sounds of life made by their child, so it’s not that uncommon for—Daniel, for Christ’s sake, why would someone send you this?”

  Rebirth…

  She’s alive more than you know…

  When he offered no answer Jeannie placed a hand on her forehead and used the other to steady herself against the counter. “You have to call the police, this person could be dangerous. And we need to consult a doctor. You can’t keep going like this, I won’t allow it. You can be angry with me all you’d like, but I won’t sit by and watch this destroy you. Please, Daniel, let me help you.”

  It’s not me. Tell him it’s not me.

  “I have to do this on my own. I can’t pretend none of it’s happened, or let a doctor give me some pill to make me believe it never happened. And I can’t have the police digging around in private matters because at this point I have no idea what they might find. Just give me a couple more days to do this my way, all right? If I haven’t gotten the answers I’m looking for by then I’ll do anything you want. I give you my word.”

  The tape played itself out, followed by a beep tone.

  Ice and rain pelted the brownstone, one storm replaced by another.

  “Two days,” Jeannie told him. “No more. I mean it.”

  He went to his sister, hugged her and let his chin rest on her shoulder. As he closed his eyes, the peace he had hoped to find eluded him. Waiting instead was an enormous fire. Colossal sprays of it exploding and reaching high into the air, Lucifer’s claws slashing the darkness and turning night into day. But it was a false light, a synthetic and deviant attempt, a mockery. Amidst the inferno, Lindsay’s nude form danced seductively, possessed by the same unnatural movements she’d displayed on the computer screen, her hair a mass of fire, the whites of her once beautiful eyes burning and oozing blood as she peered at him through an endless ocean of flames. “I love you,” he whispered. “Now go home where you belong and can do some good. You have a family to think about.”

  She stepped back. “You’re part of that family, I—”

  “Go home, Jeannie.” He pulled her to him again, but this time did not close his eyes. “If you want to help me, go home.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  Look Again Books was closed by the time he got there, but Bryce hadn’t yet left. Daniel found him sitting alone in the dark, feet up on the counter. Bells jingled as he stepped inside. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

  “Closed up a while ago,” Bryce said, “forgot to lock the door.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Sales sucked today, they weren’t anywhere near what I was hoping for. Holiday traffic’s got to come through or I could be screwed.”

  “I thought you said business was good.”

  “It was for a while, but lately it’s been shit.” He shrugged. “Still got a few weeks between now and Christmas. Long as it picks up I should be OK. But hey, if not, there’s always suicide, right? Jesus, look at you, drenched freakin’ rat.”

  “Coming down pretty good out there.”

  “Hadn’t even noticed, got a big piece of self-pity in my eye.”

  His coat still dripping and his hair soaked, Daniel took up position on the other side of the counter. “I didn’t know things with the store were so close to the wire. If you need a couple bucks to help ride it out I’ve got some saved I can front you.”

  “Thanks, man, but it’s not that bad yet.” He struggled to his feet. “You don’t even have a job. I should be lending you money. Besides, you’ve got enough of your own shit to deal with. What’s going on, you were really vague on the phone last night.”

  “Some things are happening,” Daniel said flatly. “Things I can’t ignore or pretend aren’t there anymore.”

  Bryce looked at him a moment, as if to assess the response. “OK.” He grabbed a hefty ring of keys next to the cash register. “Come on, let’s go get something to eat, I’m starving. You can catch me up over dinner. Just let me set the alarm, throw the night deposit in the safe and lock up.”

  “I think we better talk here first.”

  He dropped back into his chair. “You mad at me about something?”

  “Why would I be mad at you?”

  “I don’t know. You look like you’re ready to rip somebody a new asshole.”

  “I got a weird message on my machine. Womb sounds.”

  “The guy sent you a tape of womb sounds?”

  “I don’t know for sure if that one came from the same guy. The really strange thing is, the answering machine recorded it, but the caller ID missed it. There’s no record of the call coming in.”

  “Had to be the same sick fucking bastard,” Bryce said, spitting the words. “Who the hell else would do that? What’s it supposed to mean?”

  “I think maybe it’s to signify rebirth—I don’t know—but then I got another call, this one definitely from him. It was like the others, more of the same. And now someone’s been following me.”

  “Following you? Who?”

  “Some guy in a Ford Explorer. This morning I caught him watching the house, and then he followed me when I went to the zone to meet Bedbug.”

  Bryce squinted as if he were losing sight of him. “Who the fuck is Bedbug?”

  “A guy I met through Elliot. He’s a computer expert, a hacker.”

  “Are you out of your mind? You don’t trust those sorts of guys.”

  Daniel explained how he had hired him to search the computers for any valuable information. “When I left the meeting with him I was followed. I haven’t seen the Explorer since.”

  “That’s it.” He made a move for the telephone. “You’re calling the cops. It’s probably the guy on the phone.”

  “No, it’s not.” Daniel followed him, the counter separating them. “Put the phone down and hear me out.”

  Hesitantly, Bryce complied.

  “I got a call this morning,” Daniel said. “Minutes later I saw the Explorer parked outside the house. It can’t be the same person because the call came from another payphone, this one in New Jersey.”

  “You told me this guy was calling from Ohio.”

  “He was at first, but the last two have come from Pennsylvania then New Jersey.”

  Bryce went pale. “He’s headed this way.”

  “I’d say that’s a safe assumption, yes.”

  “So who’s the clown in the Explorer then?”

  “No idea. He could have some tie to the caller or none at all. Thing is, he doesn’t seem too subtle about it, so I don’t get the impression he’ll be a mystery much longer. He wants me to know he’s there, and he obviously wants something.”

  Bryce ran a hand over his forehead and across his balding dome. “Dude, call the cops, this shit is completely out of control. You either make the call or I will. I’m serious.”

  “You need to trust me on this,” Daniel told him. “There’s more going on here than meets the eye. The police aren’t the answer.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “You’ve got two minutes to convince me.”

  Daniel pushed away from the counter and paced about between two table displays of books. The rain pounded the building, the tiny ice spikes ticking against the windows and door. “I’ve been feeling Lindsay around me, Bryce. I mean really feeling her, like she’s standing right next to me. I’ve felt—I’ve felt her breath on me.”

  “Danny—”
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  “This is embarrassing, and I know it sounds like something’s gone wrong or broken in me, but I’m telling you the truth.” He snatched up a prominently displayed paperback from a nearby rack and nervously flipped through it without actually looking at it. “Thanksgiving Day I went to this diner. There was a woman there. She was standing behind me while I was waiting for a booth. The waitress saw her. I didn’t, but the waitress and a truck driver on his way into the diner did. I showed the waitress the picture of Lindsay I carry in my wallet.” He returned the book to its place. “It was her, it was Lindsay. She was there. I followed her outside, but by the time I got around the side of the building she was gone.”

  Bryce averted his eyes. “Come on, man, this is…”

  “Listen to me.” Daniel moved back to the counter, braced both hands against it and explained what had happened with the computer, and how he had seen Lindsay on his monitor. He stopped short of telling him about the photographs. “It was her. I don’t know how or why, I can’t explain it, but it was her.”

  “No, Danny, it wasn’t.”

  “I’m telling you the truth, I swear it.”

  “I don’t doubt you are, and I admit there’s some weird shit happening, OK? I’m with you on that. But whoever you saw, it wasn’t Lindsay.”

  “Remember her last words? Maybe she was telling me she was still alive somehow or—or that the person dying in the street wasn’t really her.”

  “Tell me you’re not serious. Please.”

  “The guy on the phone keeps saying she’s alive more than I know.”

  “Yeah, well the guy on the phone is out of his fucking tree and on his way here to do God knows what, I don’t know how much stock I’d be putting in what that psycho says.”

  “I saw her, Bryce. I felt her around me.”

  Bryce came out from behind the counter. “Stop and think about what you’re saying.”