Earthshaker

by Robert T. Jeschonek

  My heart pounded with terror and confusion. "What happened...?"

  "How dare you?" He spat out the words. "I'll kill you!"

  Suddenly, the scene shifted back to the sunlit room and the moments of afterglow. "I love you, my darling Gaia." He kissed me and ran his fingers over my body.

  Then back to the darkness again. "You've ruined everything!" He struck me when he said it. I felt dazed and tasted blood. "You've destroyed us!"

  Back to light and warmth. "You're everything I ever dreamed of." More kisses. Stirring caresses.

  Darkness. "You've learned fast, haven't you, betrayer?" He struck me again.

  Light. "Ready to learn another lesson, my love?" He embraced me again.

  I kept jumping back and forth, faster and faster, until I couldn't stand it anymore. Dark, light, love, hate, pleasure, pain. Scenes switching and blurring like playing cards shuffled in a master dealer's hands. Like subway lightbulbs flickering as a train hurtles past. Life, death, joy, sorrow, up, down, like bipolar moods on super fast forward. A mental movie of madness, overshadowed by that malevolent presence.

  And then I finally screamed. Mindlessly recoiled from the barrage, lashing out in every way I knew how. Fighting back in a state of sheer panic.

  Until Duke's voice finally broke through to me. "Gaia! Stop it! Calm down, Earth Angel!"

  Then, I heard Briar's voice, too. "No more, Gaia! Please stop!"

  The sound of their voices was enough to snap me out of it. Spinning free of the nightmare slideshow, I plunged back into the reality of Time-Out—but it wasn't quite the same as I'd left it. As I blinked the haze from my eyes and looked around, I saw the place was in ruins. The padding had been torn from the walls in great strips. The furrow of fallen dirt and rock had been whipped up and sprayed everywhere, over every surface. The crack in the wall I'd opened earlier had been forced wider, and more earth had collapsed inward in a great heap.

  In my frenzied struggle to escape the quickfire visions, I'd laid waste to the room. The only part of it that was still untouched was the dangling shell of Aggie's ashen remains.

  Duke and Briar were unscathed, too. They both huddled around me, staring down at me with worried looks on their faces.

  "Are you all right?" said Briar.

  I nodded. Then, I shook my head.

  "She's gone, isn't she?" Duke glanced at the Aggie-shaped shell. When he saw the look in my eyes, he teared up. "I'm so sorry, honey. So sorry."

  "Let's get you out of here." Briar reached for my hand. "I need to call this in, anyway. No signal on my cell phone down here."

  I shook as they helped me to my feet. Felt like I'd never stop shaking again.

  Out in the corridor, I saw Briar had cuffed Holloway and left him on his side on the floor. Phaola sat beside him, back against the wall, and stared up at me.

  "I'm sorry, Gaia," she said. "I didn't know."

  "You didn't care." I wanted to kick her on the way past, her and Holloway both, but I didn't have the strength. I settled for ignoring her as she apologized again.

  With one arm around Duke and one arm around Briar, I limped away from Aggie like walking wounded leaving a battlefield. Wished I'd never gotten out of bed that morning, never talked to Briar, never known she was missing. Better yet, wished I'd never met her, so it wouldn't hurt so bad when I thought about losing her.

  "I'll get you through this, Earth Angel." Duke said it softly and squeezed my shoulder gently for emphasis. "Don't you worry. I won't leave your side, sweetheart."

  I was glad for the soothing sound of his voice, glad to know he was with me...but I knew I was in trouble, and even he might not be able to save me.

  The worst was yet to come. The full weight of my sorrow had not begun to take shape. And that was only one small piece of the mountain on my back.

  The bigger portion, by far, was guilt. I was only then beginning to feel the leading edge of it—the guilt I felt for not saving her. For not realizing she was in trouble sooner. For not acting fast enough.

  And, especially, for bringing all this down upon her. Because I knew, from the visions or memories I'd experienced when touching her flash-baked form, that I was somehow connected to what had happened. Maybe, she hadn't died because she'd been trying to expose the sex ring; maybe, her link to me was what had gotten her killed.

  Maybe, in the end, it was all my fault.

  *****

  Chapter 12

  I spent the next two days at home in a trance. Duke came and stayed with me, but I barely noticed he was there. People came to the door and left messages on my answering machine, but they hardly registered. All I could think about was Aggie. The times we'd had and the things we'd said. Especially the last time I'd seen her, the morning before she'd died. We'd shot the shit for a few minutes over coffee, and she'd bitched about work. Nothing special. So many things we could have said, and all we managed was nothing special.

  Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the picture of her waving goodbye from the Divinities flyer. I couldn't get it out of my mind. Such a look of innocent friendliness on her face, so unsuspecting, so vulnerable. Never guessing what she was in for, never supposing her friendship with me could be dangerous.

  Now it was all over except the funerals—one for the ordinary side of her life, the other for the not so ordinary side. I wondered which one I should attend...though I didn't really want to go to either.

  I just wanted to wallow in my misery and punish myself for not saving her. For maybe doing more harm than good just by being her friend.

  That was what really bothered me: my life was better because of her, and what had I done in return? Somehow, in some way I couldn't guess, I'd played a role in what happened.

  It was enough to make me want to curl up into a ball and never come out. Even Duke couldn't get through to me. I know I would've stayed that way a lot longer if not for Briar.

  Late in the afternoon of my third day of hiding from the world, Briar stormed into my living room and snatched the TV remote control from my hand. Off went the soap opera I'd been staring at (and not following) for the past forty-five minutes.

  I didn't even have the heart to snap at him. Just rolled over on the sofa so my back was turned to him.

  "We don't have the killer." Leave it to Briar not to beat around the bush. "I don't think we have a viable suspect at this point."

  I listened, but I didn't answer him. I really just wanted him to go away.

  Of course he didn't. "The State Police and F.B.I. are satisfied Holloway's our man. He was running the escort service, his prints are all over Time-Out, and he had a motive. Aggie was going to out Divinities in the media." Briar cleared his throat. "But I'm not convinced."

  I didn't say a word; it seemed like a waste of time. Holloway the ringmaster had "murderer" written all over him. Case closed.

  "The staties and F.B.I. just want this freak show to go away," said Briar. "They don't know what the hell to make of it. Plus, they're taking heat to cover this up and back off the V.I.P. johns we rounded up. So they're rushing that bum Holloway through the system.

  "And they're ignoring evidence." Briar sat on the arm of the sofa by my head. "We got some special prints off those manacles."

  I blew out my breath and talked to the sofa cushion. "What kind of special prints?"

  "Weird prints. Twilight Zone prints," said Briar. "The lab team is having conniptions trying to figure them out. All they know for sure is they're not human."

  "What else could they be? Chimp? Orangutan?" I said it sarcastically.

  "They're consistent with human prints in size and certain characteristics," said Briar. "But the whorls are star-shaped instead of oval loops."

  "Meaning what?" Even as I said it, I knew where he was heading.

  "The lab's theory is they're fake. Some kind of gimmick," said Briar. "The staties and F.B.I. have already written them off as useless. But I'm thinking maybe they belong to someone from your world. Someone unique."

  I agre
ed with him, but that didn't mean I knew who could have left those prints. "Nymphs have normal prints," I said. "That's about all I can tell you." There were all kinds of special beings in the world; I was always coming across new ones.

  "So that's it, huh?" said Briar. "The star-shaped fingerprints don't ring a bell?"

  "Please go away." I wedged myself tighter in the crease between the sofa cushions. "I can't deal with this right now."

  Briar sighed. "I know, Gaia." He patted my shoulder. "But this is for Aggie. This is about her getting some justice."

  "It's too late to do anything for her," I told him. "It's just too late."

  "Okay then." Briar got up from the arm of the sofa. "I'll handle it myself. Let you know how it all turns out."

  "Fine." I really wanted him to leave. Just wanted to be left alone with my misery. So why didn't I get up and kick his ass out the door?

  I heard him walk halfway to the front door, and then he stopped. "I guess I'll be okay, dealing with the special people out there. It's not like they have special listings in the phone book or anything...but I'm sure I'll be able to find them. And get them to talk. And get them to give up their secret killer buddy with the star-shaped prints." Briar cleared his throat. "I'm sure that'll all work out great."

  I wasn't going to play his game. "Good." I rolled halfway over and snapped at him over my shoulder. "Now leave."

  "Will do." Briar took two more steps and stopped again. "Just one more thing. Do you have any advice for dealing with people who have powers? What can someone like me, who has no powers, do to keep from getting killed by someone who has them?"

  "Just go!" I was really pissed at him by then, almost ready to do that ass-kicking out the door I mentioned—and it was all for one reason.

  It was because he'd made his case, the son of a bitch.

  He opened the front door. "Well, thanks for listening," he said. "I hope you feel better.

  Before I could say another word, he shut the door. End of visit, thank God.

  I hated him for interrupting my grief. Hated him for trying to guilt me into helping with the case. Hated him especially because I knew he was right.

  Just then, Duke called from the kitchen. "How does bouillabaisse sound for dinner, Earth Angel?"

  "Okay. Sure." I wasn't really listening to him. All I could think about was what Briar had told me.

  Now I knew Aggie's killer was still at large, and almost certainly from the special side of the tracks. He or she was out there somewhere, complete with a connection to me—and not at all the type to be brought in by conventional law enforcement means.

  Here then was reason for me to get off my ass. To do something that made some kind of sense of Aggie's death. It was the kind of job that couldn't be done without me. The kind of job I could never forgive myself for not doing.

  So at least I had something to look forward to in a terrible sort of way. Something to keep me sane. Something to give me a reason to get through this misery—and perhaps redeem myself for failing to prevent it.

  I wasn't ready to get off the couch yet, but when I did, I was going to track down the monsters responsible for Aggie's murder and make them pay.

  *****

  Chapter 13

  At Duke's urging, I went to both funerals. I surprised myself, because I'd thought I'd cried myself out...but I just kept finding more tears. Kept finding new depths in what turned out to be a bottomless pit of sadness.

  I probably should have called it quits after the first funeral, to tell you the truth. It was rough, but at least I could fade into the woodwork and mourn in peace, more or less.

  The first funeral was the regular "human" one, and it was all about Aggie the local celebrity weather woman. It drew the bigger crowd by far, leaving standing room only at the church and a mob at the cemetery. Lots of notables and fellow celebrities up front, tons of fans and curiosity seekers in the back. Too many phony tears all around; too many insincere tributes from dimpled and square-jawed colleagues I knew Aggie had hated, delivered in strong voices with excellent elocution. News crews shooting the proceedings, whispering into mics flagged with the logos of competing stations. Logos on lapel pins and tie tacks, too; I was surprised they didn't slap a logo on the coffin.

  There was a wake afterward at Aggie's favorite watering hole, the one with all the imports and crazy martinis. Would have been nice except for the Aggie highlight reels playing on the five widescreen TVs, reminding me wherever I turned of what I'd lost. Plus the drunks telling stories of what she'd supposedly said and done; I had my doubts about more than a few of them.

  By the time I got out of there, I was almost as pissed off as I was sad. The distraction was probably a good thing; I probably should have left it at that instead of going to the second funeral.

  But if I hadn't gone, I might not have met the Lady of the Alleghenies. In other words, my next big lead in the case of Aggie's murder.

  And everything else, as it turned out.

  *****

  I'd never been to such a beautiful ceremony, and I doubt I ever will be again. This second funeral, the one for the extraordinary side of Aggie's life, was a fitting tribute to a beautiful soul and a life well-lived.

  They held it on a hilltop in the game lands across the county line. Everyone gathered at three in the morning in the deepest dark of night; those who couldn't see in the dark or generate their own light carried flashlights or flickering torches.

  We stood in a circle, silent, around a wicker cross. One by one, we stepped forward and draped things of Aggie's over the cross—shirts and jackets and dresses and jewelry. Then, we turned off the flashlights and doused the torches. Plunged into pitch blackness, we hugged each other, one at a time. Wept on each other's shoulders. Strangers embracing in the darkness, sharing sorrow without a word. Without a pretense.

  Chills ran up my spine each time I touched someone new. Fresh tears welled up and rushed forth. Each time, I wondered who was there; each time, I wondered if it was her. If it was Aggie, face hidden in the darkness of that moonless night, holding me once last time. In my mind's eye, in my heart, it was her, every time.

  After a while, the darkness began to lift. I looked around in the dim twilight before dawn, blinking in amazement. The hilltop meadow was overflowing with extraordinary beings of all description—more of them than I'd ever seen together in one place.

  There were men with the horns and legs of goats, women with the wings of swans. Zipping faeries not much bigger than mosquitoes, red-and-black striped salamanders with the eyes of humans. Nymphs looking down from mid-air, gnomes looking up out of burrows. Things made half of ice, half of fire; things made of mist, things covered in fur or leaves or both.

  As the sky grew ever brighter, all these remarkable creatures gathered in concentric circles around the cross. Began to sing the most beautiful song I'd ever heard, a song of rising, indescribably potent feeling. I hummed along with it, picking out a few words here and there, a few snatches of phrase—but later, I found I couldn't remember them. They belonged only to that moment in time, and then they were gone.

  As the sun finally rose, our song reached its peak—and the birds joined us with their dawn chorus. Out there in the woods, with so many of them everywhere, they drowned us out. For a moment, we held the final note, letting the birds' chirps and whistles and cries swirl around it. Then, all at once, we stopped...and so did the birds.

  That was when I felt her. At that moment. As we stood in the meadow and looked around at each other—centaurs gazing at dryads gazing at sirens gazing at goddesses. All of us silent again as the sun rode up on its track, casting beams as if by magic, as miraculous as if we'd never seen them before.

  That was when something moved through me. A whisper, a shiver, a dream. Someone moved through me.

  And not just me, I could tell. Everyone trembled and smiled at once, swaying and sighing. Transfixed by sheer delight. Looks on their faces you wouldn't expect at any kind of funeral. Looks of pleasure.
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  Just as the presence left me, I heard words in my ear. Felt warm breath there, too, but when I turned, I saw no one.

  Aggie. It must have been Aggie. It couldn't have been, but it must have been. Aggie.

  The words echoed in my head. Goodbye, my friend.

  Wait! I focused my thoughts on her and tried to ask questions. Desperate questions I needed to answer. Who did it? Who killed you?

  But there was nothing. Just silence in my mind, silence all around. She was gone again.

  I'm sorry.

  Suddenly, then, everyone started moving again. One by one, they stepped or slithered or flew to the cross and took Aggie's things off it. From what I could see, everyone took something different than what they'd brought.

  And then, they disappeared into the forest. Drifted away as if they'd never been there at all, leaving me alone in the meadow with Duke and the cross. The last thing draped over it, the final memento of her life, was a silver locket on a chain. Inside was a four-leaf clover.

  I slipped it around my neck and turned. Tears streaming down my face.

  And that was when I realized Duke and I weren't alone after all. One of them had come back for me. One of the mourners.

  A woman with flowing brown tresses and a simple white gown, both dusted with wildflowers. Her face was radiant as she gazed at me, violet eyes glittering in the morning sunlight.

  "Ms. Charmer?" Her voice was warm and smooth. Soothing like Duke's. "I'd like to talk to you about Aegle."