by Dale Mayer
“What do you mean?”
“The department told me that they no longer needed my services. The media was hounding me. I was broken and thought you were better off without me. I found out a couple months after you left that I was pregnant. But, in those months, you’d moved out and hadn’t said a word to me.” She watched the pain and the regret cross his face.
He nodded. “I get that it was a tough time for you. But it was also a tough time for me. That’s no excuse. I tried hard to get you to look after yourself, but you wouldn’t listen, and you kept shutting doors in my face. Then you said it was over. We were over.”
“Instead I found myself pregnant, joyously pregnant,” she murmured. Her lips twitched into a smile. “I had a psychic connection to the child. I knew him intimately before he was born. We were always bonded, even before his birth. When I woke up from that coma, that bond was not broken. I knew it was still there. And everybody kept telling me how I was wrong, that he was dead. And slowly, a bit at a time, I shut it down, thinking I was so crazy, so grief stricken that maybe you were all right. So I reawakened my abilities in order to find him, … and I did,” she said so faintly he had to lean in to hear her. “But now I feel like I don’t know anything.” A broken laugh escaped. “Then the spiders came …”
“Why spiders?” he interjected.
She opened her gaze wider. “As far as I can tell, they were his pets. I think he overheard his parents fighting about his birth mother, and, when he asked about her, they got really angry and locked him up.” She tried to tap into the same energy that had been giving her the information, but there was so little there.
“That’s harsh,” he said.
She nodded, and that spider blanket wiggled around her shoulders. She opened her eyes and stared at him. But he wasn’t looking at her face, he was studying her body, a look of fascination in his expression. Then she knew. “It’s spiders, isn’t it?”
His gaze zinged toward her. “Pardon?”
“This blanket covering me, it’s spiders, isn’t it?”
He took a deep breath and then slowly nodded. “Yes. There are a thousand, if not more, all over you.”
She waited for that sense of revulsion, but it wasn’t there. Just a warmth, a caring. “They came looking for me,” she whispered, closing her eyes, mentally sending out a thank-you and a warm glow of energy to them. She was hoping that, when she saw them, she wouldn’t be terrified. But she knew it was one thing to know they were there, but it was another thing entirely to see them.
“They came to you, but that doesn’t mean you are the boy’s mother. They might be answering his request but could only come to someone strong enough to help. You are not the only psychic out there. You know that. But these spiders, … they are covering you like a blanket all over,” he said. “Their hard backs are bumped up against each other. Their arms, I swear to God, they’re almost locked around each other to hold their position.”
“I don’t know why they’re doing this,” she said.
“Stefan said they received instructions from the little boy to find you, and, now that they have, they probably don’t know what to do.”
She considered that. “It makes a weird kind of sense. Are more still coming?”
“Since I’ve been here, dozens more have arrived.”
*
Kirk couldn’t believe what he saw. From the minute he’d walked in the door of her small place, the spiders had done nothing but make kind of a shivering movement, as if tightening their ranks to protect Queenie. He’d stared at her, taking pictures, stunned at the spiders coming together in one act like that. It was freaking amazing. It also opened his eyes to something he hadn’t even considered before—how men and animals came together in such a way to help each other. But this was beyond his comprehension.
He couldn’t believe what Stefan had said, about the little boy involved being his son, Reese, but as Kirk stared at the spiders in front of him, he had to wonder if it was possible. Other considerations rose to the surface. If he accepted that Queenie’s son—their son—was dead, and this other boy had similar features to his, then had Kirk fathered another son? One he also didn’t know about? He had no brothers to have produced offspring that looked like him, and, although his bitch of a sister would quite likely have handed over any child of hers for adoption. Yet, Kirk had not known of her ever conceiving. She’d most likely have aborted it first. So whose child was it that looked like Kirk?
He’d already suspected Reese was his and Queenie’s. The timing had been so damn close. Or she had had an affair within weeks of their breakup. And he knew she hadn’t been in any shape mentally or emotionally back then.
At the hospital three and a half years ago, he hadn’t said anything because what was the point when the boy was already gone? And she’d been destroyed by the news. He didn’t want to add any more stress on her at that point. But now, as he sat here, the truth pounded into him by Stefan was overshadowed by this amazing spider teamwork.
Still, he didn’t understand why they were covering her. Could they do nothing but cling to her? Were they or were they not helping her?
Kirk studied her as she lay there. “I don’t know what will happen when you move,” he said. “It’s quite possible the spiders will run away, or they won’t shift enough to allow you to move.”
She stared at him in surprise. “They’re all pretty small, aren’t they?”
He nodded. “They are, but they’ve all banded together to do this.”
She smiled. “I guess I don’t have any good reason for being afraid of them anymore, huh?”
“You never were really afraid of them though, I think. Just their fast movements always startled you. Like so many women, it’s more about the movement and the creepy-crawliness of them than an actual fear.”
“I want to move.”
“I’m not sure you should,” he cautioned. “If they’re helping you, then you should accept their help.”
“Well, I can’t just lie here forever,” she said.
“What else do you need to do right now?”
She was silent for a long moment and then gave a tiny shrug. “Nothing. How late is it?”
Kirk checked his watch. “Almost noon.”
He heard her soft gasp. “That means I’ve been out for hours. The meeting with everyone from the amusement park is at two today.”
“I wouldn’t worry about the meeting,” he said. “That’s hardly your priority right now.”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “No, it isn’t necessarily a priority, but that doesn’t mean I can ignore all those people trying to figure out how to solve their current problem. Do you have an update on Carlos?”
He shook his head. “No, but I can get one for you, if you want.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t really matter. As long as the cops won’t let him go. My friends are trying to find a solution, and I don’t know that I can do anything but be there for moral support.”
He nodded, pulled out his phone, stood and walked slightly away.
Chapter 14
Sunday, Noon …
She stared down at her hand and couldn’t see flesh. It was literally covered in small black, almost metallic-looking things. She understood in theory these were all spiders, and her heart still shuddered at the thought, but she was overcome by her fascination that they had worked together to accomplish this.
“How?” she whispered. “How did you find me? And what is it you want from me now?” She tried to shift upward, only to cry out in surprise, as if the spiders had tightened their net around her. Not a spiderweb in the normal sense but as if she were bound and wrapped. She was covered all the way to her toes. The casing stopped at her neck, for which she was grateful. But, when she tried to move, the spider blanket tightened around her.
She fell back on the couch, stunned. “What do you want from me?” she cried out. Of course they didn’t answer her.
But, in the background, she heard Stefan say,
Ask them directly.
You mean, I didn’t?
Of course not. You just cried out to the universe, as if looking for somebody to give you the details of what you’re missing. The spiders found you. They are the ones with the answers.
She sank back into the couch, understanding—in theory—what he had said. She closed her eyes and whispered in her mind, What do you want?
There weren’t any words, but there was a rumble, as if an answer of some kind. An answer she didn’t understand because she didn’t understand the language.
You found me. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.
Another rumble, slightly louder. As if more spiders were responding.
Do you have a spokesperson? she asked, feeling foolish.
Don’t look for words, Stefan said. Look for emotions, look for images. Whatever is your usual methodology for getting answers. Just think how not only are they there for you but you’re touching them. What is it you’re getting visions of?
With her eyes closed, she reached out and wiggled a finger, letting her mind acknowledge she was, indeed, touching a spider and could pick up its visions. All she saw was a dirt pathway as the spiders had moved a long distance.
Show me where you’ve come from, she ordered.
The vision sped up, the pathway racing ahead faster and faster. She followed it, not quite understanding, like she was in some tunnel. She followed the spiders’ path, seeing more and more spiders converging, coming in from different avenues. All headed for the same place.
It’s never been like this before, she whispered.
Nothing will ever be the same again either, Stefan said with certainty.
The assurance in his voice made her realize just how much he had seen in his life and how much he knew about this.
Don’t get distracted, he warned. Stay with the spiders. Follow them to the source. See if you can find a location where this boy is.
Eagerly she dove deeper, faster, flying through the air as she fast-tracked back through the spiders’ route. She slammed to a stop on a street. Several dilapidated houses were on the left of her, and another one looked more like a junkyard on the right. Vehicles were all over the property of the one on the right. The other two houses on the left had busted toys and an old junkyard-type car—but only the one—whereas the one on the right had dozens.
Not knowing which way to go, she closed her eyes and whispered, Show me.
Instantly she was sucked into that same vortex at the spiders’ level, racing backward until she squeezed through a crack in the cement and inside a dark and dank basement. She followed it closer and closer until she came to a bedroom. The spider slipped underneath the doorframe.
She could see the little boy tucked on the bed, blankets up to his chin. He slept. But tear tracks marked his cheeks. Her heart broke as she studied his face; she knew he could be none other than her son. She reached out a hand, knowing it was only an ethereal energy but so full of love that she hoped she could touch him. She stroked his cheek gently.
He opened his eyes and stared at her. Ever-so-slowly he sat up. She didn’t know what he could see, but obviously he saw something. He wasn’t shocked. He wasn’t afraid. He reached out a hand and whispered, Mommy?
She could feel her energy splinter in shock, in pain, and yet slam back together again in joy. She knew he was her son but had no proof. And regardless if he was or not, he was someone’s son, and he needed hope. She whispered, Yes.
He didn’t appear to hear her. He leaned forward, his gaze narrowed. Mommy, is that you?
She reached out with both arms and wrapped them around him. Yet, she was nothing but a wispy cloud and had to be very faint at that. She mentally sent him a message of love and whispered, Yes, it’s me.
He frowned and looked around, shrugging, and curled back up on the bed.
Her heart breaking with disappointment, she lay down beside him, wrapped her arms around him, so scared to leave and to not find him again. At least this way she was with him, which made everything else in her life worthwhile.
But the pull to return to her body was so strong that she could feel something dragging her back. As if her energy waned and her own physical form was in danger.
She’d heard about things like that but had never experienced them. Still, she was desperate to stay with her son. She studied the room around her, but there was nothing to say where he was. Then she was dragged outside of his house.
She was desperate to catch a glimpse of something to identify this location, but the speed which jerked her back blurred her vision and had her head spinning. She thought she saw the color blue with black trim, but that was all before she was pulled back through the tunnel, twisting and turning her like some drill boring in reverse.
When she slammed into her body, she jerked physically, and then the net of spiders tightened down once again. She opened her eyes, gasping.
Kirk bounded to her side. “Are you okay?”
“I saw him. I saw Reese.”
He shook his head. “What do you mean?”
She told Kirk what she saw, what had happened. “He’s out there, and he’s alive.”
“My son, you mean?” he said, his voice hard. “My son is alive?”
He sounded more incredulous than ever, but there was also a faint note of hope. Of course it was completely wrapped up in disbelief, but that was normal. She’d certainly dealt with that from many nonbelievers over the years.
She nodded slowly. That was something else to consider. The little boy looked like Kirk. Had he produced another son? Another one he didn’t know about? “Maybe he is. The other thing is, the spiders won’t let me go.”
His eyebrows shot up toward his hairline, and he stared at her body, at the spiders obviously meshed around her. “Why not?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Stefan wanted me to communicate with them. But, when I tried to do that, I saw the boy.”
“Well, try to move again,” he said promptly. “You can’t lie here completely surrounded by spiders forever.”
She glared his way. “I know that.”
He shrugged, looked toward the kitchen and said, “I’ll put on coffee. I’d like a hell of a lot more than that, but it’s too damn early in the day.”
She watched him until he moved out of her sight. She closed her eyes and whispered to the spiders. I saw him. I don’t know how to find him though.
Again that weird murmuring mumbled in her head. She tried to ask other questions in different ways, but the responses never came back any different. Always this weird mumble. But she was touching them, and they were touching her. She reached out a hand and placed the pad of her finger against a spider’s back. The energy was different, humming, connected. The spider was coming from a whole different place. She watched the pathway which existed between her and the spiders and realized that, as one spider had gotten the message, he’d passed on the message to the others. So, although a lot of the spiders knew about the little boy in the basement, not every spider did. So not all of them drank the boy’s blood, but somehow they communicated with each other, and they were all here helping in the same mission.
What is it you want from me?
Again that weird mumble but also a weird sensation of connection.
I want to find him too, she whispered. Why won’t you let me go?
Instead of answering her, they tightened down.
She tried to struggle, but it seemed even worse.
Stefan whispered in her mind, Don’t struggle. They can only respond to one thing.
Love, she said, understanding the pinkish energy around them. She slammed her eyes closed. Instead of fighting the spiders, she blended with them. She let her energy soften, let the spiders sink deeper and deeper into her soul. They were just more of God’s creatures, not ones she’d ever been particularly interested in meeting on this level, but there was no reason not to. They were coded in love, and that was something she could respect.
She reached out
mentally and touched every spider on her body in a wave of a loving pink blanket, washing it over herself from head to toe and slowly encompassing every spider here. She didn’t want them staying out of fear because surely she would be strong enough to break their grip, or at least Kirk would be, but she didn’t want them hurt either.
I got the message, she whispered over and over again. I’m going to help him. I’m going to find him. If you can show me where he is, that would help.
She had to wonder at her son, who had connected with these spiders at such a level that the spiders were willing to do what he asked of them. And she was here with all the spiders. How did she get them to send her back to her son? It seemed like a one-way street at the moment. Maybe her son hadn’t figured how to get the message out any clearer.
As she lay here, the spider blanket stirred and trembled and relaxed its grip on her. She slowly sat up, and the spiders broke and reformed, covering the back of the couch in another blanket. She watched as they all clung together in this long vertical metallic-looking beadwork.
Kirk stepped forward. “How did you get them to let go?”
“I covered them with love,” she said softly.
He stared at her. “You sent the spiders love?”
She shrugged. “What can I say? They were covered in pink, and they were coming from a little boy. I desperately want to confirm that he’s my son, but I just don’t know.” She was so confused. She needed Stefan’s help to sort this out.
“Our son,” Kirk said, his voice curt.
She knew they would have a heavy discussion about it at some point. But she was willing to tell him now. “You need to find the answers,” she said abruptly. “If he’s Reese, how could this have come about? If he’s your son by another woman—which woman is that? And, again, how did this come about?”
“I have no children,” he said. “At least as far as I know.”
Moving slowly so as not to disturb the spiders, that remained on the back of her couch but showed no sign of leaving her apartment, she stood and stretched. “If that is our son, we need to know how he disappeared from that hospital. And if he’s not ours, he’s still a lost little boy, and we need to help him.”