It was all there, the horror and tragedy, the magnificence and splendor of a city called Hope. And he understood why none of them had left and why Tess and Ian should not have left. Then he wept for all he had lost and for the memories that Segunda Vista had now returned to him.
4.
During the three-hour trip from Punta to Esperanza, the twins fussed and fought over their toys, their snacks. They wanted the windows down, then up, then down again, and they made so much racket Ian could barely think. He kept struggling with a vague memory of being on this road in an unusual bus with Father Jacinto and Wayra, but couldn’t remember ever having made such a trip.
In fact, their long weekend to Punta was the first time they’d left Esperanza in years. “You two want to watch Finding Nemo?” Ian asked, eyeing the kids in the rearview mirror.
“Nemo,” squealed Charlie, clapping his hands. Named after Tess’s father, he had her blond hair and blue eyes. Rina had Ian’s dark hair and eyes. “Rina and me love Nemo.”
“Charlie loves Nemo more than me,” Rina said. “Can’t we watch The Little Mermaid, Daddy?”
“We don’t have The Little Mermaid with us,” Tess told her, and popped a disk into the player.
“Are we there yet?” Rina asked.
“Not too long now,” Ian said.
“Just up the road from Dorado and the Río Palo,” Tess said.
Up the road by a steep six thousand feet, Ian thought. Even though the SUV had four-wheel drive, he wasn’t surprised when the engine strained.
“Tess, I have this weird feeling about being on this road in an odd bus with Father Jacinto and Wayra. We never went to Punta with them, did we?”
“I don’t think so. But I have this kind of half memory about being on an unusual bus on this road with you and my mom and Maddie.”
“That kind of bus?” He pointed at the bright blue tourist bus in front of them. Red hummingbirds had been painted on the sides and back and they were so beautifully detailed the bus looked like a work of art. Across the bumper were the words DORADO EXPRESS.
“The Dorado Express? I’ve never heard of that bus line,” Tess said. “And no, the bus I’m sort of remembering looked much different. The roof rack was piled with all kinds of stuff and it was really filthy. I think it was called Dorado thirteen. Can you pass it?”
“Not on this curve.”
“Mommy,” Charlie said. “Are we lost? The road looks different.”
“You’ve never been on this road, Charlie,” said Ian.
“Have, too. I waited near the Río Palo for Mommy.”
“That was way before,” Rina said with a laugh. “When we were chasers.”
“You waited by the Río Palo for me?” Tess teased. “But why, Charlie?”
“I think you were angry with me.”
Ian glanced at Tess, who looked as mystified as he was. That happened frequently, the twins jabbering away about stuff that made no sense to him or Tess. But Tess turned in her seat and played along. “I’m not angry with my Charlie or Rina.”
“Wrong road,” Charlie said again. “Wrong road.”
Then the road came out of the curve and Ian darted out to the left and sped past the bus. He shifted into fourth gear for the last five hundred feet to the top of the plateau and began to notice changes around them—how overgrown the trees and brush were on either side, the roadside crosses decorated with flowers, marking the spot where someone had died in a car crash, and then the weathered signs with the number of kilometers to Esperanza.
At the top of the plateau, Ian turned into the rest area and slammed so abruptly on the brakes that the SUV shuddered and died. He punched the seat belt release button, leaped out, and ran over to the railing, where a sign was posted in Spanish, English, and Quechua:
Welcome to the Esperanza Ruin. Excavation at this archaeological site is ongoing. Please stay on the designated paths. You will find brochures about this excavation at the entrance. Smoking is not allowed.
“What the fuck…”
“Ian,” Tess shouted, running toward him with Rina in her arms and Charlie stumbling alongside her. “Where … how…”
“Noooooooooo,” Charlie shrieked and tore toward the entrance of the site as fast as his little legs would carry him.
Rina wailed and kicked and flung herself from side to side until she escaped her mother’s arms, and tore after Charlie, screaming, “Charlie, Charlie, where’d it go?”
Ian and Tess raced after them, through the entrance, down the steps, and off the designated path. Ian couldn’t process what his eyes told him, that Esperanza, which they had left only four days ago, was now an archaeological ruin. Confusion and horror rolled through him in powerful, almost crippling waves that drove him forward, faster, faster. Tess, now sobbing, kept pace with him, and when they reached Charlie and Rina, they were both so winded they sank to the ground.
“Daddy!” Charlie cried, stabbing his finger at the ruin of what looked like an old hotel. “The Pincoya, this was the Pincoya. You and Wayra blew it up.”
“Boom!” Rina shouted, throwing out her arms. “Boom, boom, fire everywhere. Brujos fleeing.”
“Oh my God,” he whispered.
Tess groped for his hand. “Bus depot.”
“We were waiting for Esperanza thirteen, Tess.”
“That’s not what you called me then.”
The nickname popped into his head. “Slim, I called you Slim. Bogie and Bacall.”
“Clooney.”
“The Expat News.”
“Shape shifters.”
“Brujos, chasers, the … ghost train.”
“The city covered in sand…”
“Nine twenty-eight, eleven-eleven, Victor and Franco and—”
“And me,” Charlie said, coming over to them, patting his chest, tears still coursing down his cheeks. “Me and Karina.”
And right then, Ian understood who the twins actually were, Charlie and Karina, the chasers, and remembered all of it, remembered how he and the priest and Wayra had set off explosives in the abandoned Pincoya, which the brujos had been using as a portal. He remembered the black sludge sweeping across the Café Taquina and how he had tried to rescue Javier. He remembered taking Segunda Vista with Lauren, the wild ride on Further with Kesey, Garcia, McKenna, and piercing the whiteness that enclosed El Bosque. He remembered the strangeness and mystery of Esperanza in the time before. He remembered all of it—too late.
Everything inside of him collapsed, he could barely breathe.
“Excuse me, do you need help?”
Ian glanced around at a dark-haired man in a tourist guide uniform.
“Are either of you injured?” the guide asked.
“No, we’re…” Ian got to his feet and helped Tess up. “Javier?”
The man frowned, then his face softened and he took Ian’s hands in his own, fighting back tears. “Ian, Tess. Dios mío.” He threw his arms around them, hugging them tightly. “Dios mío.” Then he stepped back from them and looked at Charlie and Rina. “The twins. In the jungle … you were several months pregnant, Tess. Do you remember?”
She swiped at her eyes, whispered, “Yes. All of it.”
“There are others like us, people who left and remembered too late and couldn’t get back. We’re not alone.”
“But … how can that happen?” Ian stammered.
“Shamans tell us that reality split somehow,” Javier said, moving his hands outward, in opposite directions. “That Memory is key. All of us remembered too late. I don’t understand a lot of what they’re saying. But there are others.”
“How many?” Tess asked.
“Over two hundred of us now. We have places in Dorado where you can live. There’s plenty of work. The schools are great. I can take you there. Let me tell the other guide to go on without me. We need you.” He loped off to the group of tourists.
Charlie took Tess’s hand. “Mommy, it’ll be okay. It’s a new story.”
“New story,”
Rina chimed, and clasped Charlie’s hand. “Let’s go to our new story.”
Ian slipped his arm around Tess’s shoulder. “Slim?”
“Clooney?”
They gazed out longingly over the ruin. “I’m game as long as I’ve got the three of you,” Ian said.
“We’ll make it work,” Tess said.
Javier trotted back over to them. “Ready?”
“Yes, yes,” chimed Charlie and Rina, and ran toward the car.
Ian glanced back just once. Afternoon light spilled across the ruin, a soft mountain light that varnished the ancient stones and crumbling paths so that for an instant, everything shimmered and shone. He thought he could see Esperanza as it had once been, the twisted streets, the old buildings, the parks, peaks, the old railroad tracks, even the Pincoya. For an instant, he could see the beauty and grandeur of a place called Hope.
Then a cloud drifted across the face of the sun, and a brisk breeze caused him to shiver. He turned and hurried to catch up with the others.
TOR BOOKS BY TRISH J. MACGREGOR
Esperanza
Ghost Key
Apparition
About the Author
Trish J. MacGregor was born in Caracas, Venezuela, and has an ongoing love affair with South America. She lives in South Florida with her husband, novelist Rob MacGregor, three cats, and a noble golden retriever. She can be reached through her website: www.trishjmacgregor.com.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
APPARITION
Copyright © 2013 by Trish J. MacGregor
All rights reserved.
Cover photograph by Knape/Getty Images
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
www.tor-forge.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-0-7653-2604-1 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4299-4406-9 (e-book)
e-ISBN 9781429944069
First Edition: November 2013
Apparition (The Hungry Ghosts) Page 36