Earthshaker

by Robert T. Jeschonek

  I started the engine with a roar. Wished Briar would just jump in with me and tell me to drive all night. Get us all the hell out of there together, starting over. Tonight forgiven and forgotten. Put it behind us with The Tipple and Divinities and Cousin Canyon and the fucking Presence and all the rest. Enough is enough.

  But that wasn't going to happen. Instead, he stood at my window and glared up at me. More tension than easygoing admiration in that look. "Can you handle her when she wakes up?" He nodded in Laurel's direction.

  The sirens sounded like they were right on top of us. I didn't see any flashing lights through the trees, but my heart still jackhammered in my chest. "I hope so." I looked over at Laurel; she was still out, eyes closed and mouth open.

  "Don't let her out in public. Don't let her out of your sight." His tone sounded accusatory. "And please, no more World War III's." He glanced at the battered Tipple. "I have enough shit to deal with right now."

  Briar had never talked like that to me before, with that kind of tone. It was the closest we'd ever come to a fight, and it hurt. Bothered me more than it should have. A lot more.

  I didn't want to leave it like that. "Briar, I am so sorry." I locked my gaze with his, spoke over the rising howl of the approaching sirens. "I didn't mean for things to get so out of control."

  Briar's face twitched, and I thought his stern expression was going to soften. Thought he was going to say something that'd make me feel better. Let me leave on a high note.

  But it didn't happen like that. "Get the hell out of here!" That was all he said. "Go, Gaia! Go!" Backing up across the parking lot, waving insistently for me to leave.

  A week earlier, I'm sure it wouldn't have bothered me like it did. I'm sure it wouldn't have felt like he was trying to get rid of me. Like he was telling me to get the hell away from him. But this wasn't a week earlier.

  I had a lump in my throat as I threw the Highlander into gear and jammed down the accelerator. Gravel spinning out from under the tires as the SUV leaped out of the parking lot and bolted down the road, leaving The Tipple behind. Leaving Briar behind.

  I felt awful as I drove away. Hated myself for letting him down. Hated him for being mad at me. Hated Laurel for coming between us.

  So much confusion, I wanted to scream. Wanted to kick my own ass for screwing up so bad. For needing him so much all of a sudden. Needing his approval. What I really needed was to sort it all out. So maybe this second Great Escape in one day wasn't such a bad thing. And maybe I needed even more distance and time than that.

  It was then I had the first inkling that I wasn't going to sit around and wait for Briar. It was then I knew I was going to follow the next lead that came my way, in spite of the fact that Briar had told me not to.

  *****

  Chapter 28

  I've never been sure if Duke can read my mind. He does know me better than anyone on Earth, so maybe that's it. Or maybe he's tuned in to some kind of cosmic wavelength that tips him off about things. He's so cagey about the issue, I've stopped asking him.

  But sometimes, it's too in my face to ignore. The night of the fight at The Tipple, for example. After Briar rushed me out of there, I dodged all the incoming emergency and police vehicles and drove straight home. Wanted Duke's help with Laurel but couldn't call ahead and ask him to meet me. My cell phone—make that my late cell phone—had been smashed to bits in its holster during the scrap at the bar.

  But wouldn't you know it, there he was when I got home. Duke himself. Opened the door when I pulled up (he has a key to the apartment) and ran out to give me a hand. Talk about E.S.P.

  His face crumpled into a scowl as soon as he saw me. "Did you have a run-in with the killer?"

  I shook my head and flicked my thumb at Laurel. "With her." I got down out of the driver's seat and marched to the other side of the Highlander. Popped open the door, jumped up on the running board, and reached around Laurel to undo her seat belt.

  Duke followed and waited to help. "How did that happen?"

  "Ever cross paths with a drunk mountain range?" I slid my arms behind Laurel and looped them through her armpits. Slid her sideways over the seat and out the door.

  Duke pushed forward and eased her legs from the cabin. "I take it you won, since you're still on your feet?"

  "For what it's worth." I blew out my breath as I stepped down from the running board onto the paved driveway. "We tore the hell out of The Tipple, Duke. Things really got out of hand."

  "I can imagine." Duke led the way to the front door, carrying Laurel by her legs. "The two of you going at it with your powers."

  I carried Laurel's upper body, keeping my arms locked through her armpits and around her chest. "I wouldn't have stood a chance without the power surge."

  "Power surge?" Duke reached the front porch steps and stopped to stare at me. "What kind of power surge?"

  I shrugged. "The kind that saves my ass. Same kind that hit me when I was fighting the trap in Cousin Canyon."

  Duke was intrigued, I could tell. Stared another moment, then snapped out of it and started up the steps. "Let's get her inside before the whole neighborhood sees."

  As we hauled her up to the porch, I took a look around. It was late, and all was quiet. Lights out in the other two apartments in the house—one on the second floor, one on the third. Cars parked in the usual spots along the wide driveway, three plus the Highlander. The only noise was coming from Duke and me and the rustling leaves and branches of the tall trees surrounding the house.

  When we got inside, we laid Laurel on the living room sofa. I gazed down at her as Duke closed the door. Her gown was smeared with blood, but none of it was hers; there wasn't a scratch or bruise anywhere on her.

  But she'd taken a lot of hits, and I was still worried. "Could you take a look at her, Duke? Make sure she's all right?"

  Duke cleared his throat and bent down over her. Pressed open one of her eyelids and peered into her eye. "She's out cold, but I don't think she has a concussion." He let go of the lid and checked the other eye, then felt the pulse in her throat. Acted like he knew what he was doing, which he did. On top of his other talents, he had a flair for first aid of the extranormal variety. "What was the fight about, anyway?"

  I sighed and slumped down into my recliner. "We both needed someone to hit. That's what it boiled down to."

  "I hope you got it out of your system." Duke put his ear to Laurel's lips and stayed there a moment.

  "I'm good." I told him what he needed to hear, though I had my doubts. Still felt like the molten core of my anger and regret was cooking away somewhere deep within me.

  Chances were good Laurel would feel the same when she came around. For now, though, she looked serene in her slumber. Hard to believe this was the same person who'd gone berserk and clobbered a barful of miners less than an hour ago.

  "Good thing you were there, from the sound of it," said Duke.

  Was it, I wondered? If I hadn't come along, would she have caused even more carnage? Or did I just make it worse by pushing her over the top?

  "Maybe I shouldn't be here when she wakes up," I said. "Seeing me might set her off."

  "Not to worry." Duke stuffed his hands in his pants pockets and fished around. "We're going to let her sleep for a while."

  I looked at Laurel. "You're sure that's safe? You're sure she doesn't have a concussion?"

  "Sure enough." When Duke pulled his hands out, one was full of gold glitter, the other some kind of gray mud. He mashed them together, dribbling a little of each on the floor as he mixed them. "The best thing for her is a good, long night's sleep. She'll wake up tomorrow with a clear head." Duke continued to knead the glitter and mud into a gooey paste, working it vigorously between his fingers. Bending down, he applied the paste in glittering gray streaks on her face and forehead and throat and chest.

  Maybe it was my imagination, but Laurel seemed to relax more as soon as the paste set up on her skin. She said something inaudible in her sleep and rolled over to
face the sofa cushions.

  "That ought to do it." Duke held up his muddy hands. "Who's next?"

  "Soap and water." I pointed toward the kitchen sink.

  Duke wiggled his fingers. "It couldn't hurt to get a good night's sleep, Earth Angel."

  "Thanks anyway." I gestured toward the kitchen again. "I can sleep when I'm dead."

  Duke shrugged and headed for the kitchen. "Briar's at The Tipple, I take it?"

  "We really put him on the spot." My mood darkened at the mention of Briar. I remembered the anger on his face and in his voice. He was never angry with me. "He said it'll take him a day or two to smooth everything over."

  I heard Duke run water in the kitchen. "So you're waiting to take your next road trip, then."

  Laurel stirred on the sofa, and I worried I might wake her. I got out of the recliner and joined Duke in the kitchen. "You know where that'll be?"

  "I finished working with the overlays while you were out." Duke turned off the faucet and dried his hands with a paper towel. "I found a good match of geologic features to the map you drew."

  "Where?" My heart raced. "Tell me."

  "It follows a southeast track from Confluence." Duke balled up the paper towel and shot it into the garbage can across the kitchen. "The endpoint is in Grant County, West Virginia. A place called Rough Run."

  I nodded as the information sank in. A chill flashed up my spine as I thought about being one step closer to finding the killer. One step closer to finding the answers about my visions, too.

  "How far away is Rough Run?" I said.

  "Two and a half hours, give or take." Duke bobbed his head toward the living room. "I brought hard copy maps to follow."

  I leaned back against the counter and folded my arms over my chest. "I've never heard of Rough Run. What's down there, anyway?"

  "Back country, mostly," said Duke. "Forests and mountains. It's near Seneca Rocks and Spruce Knob, which are national recreation areas. Great places for climbing, mountain biking, hiking, and fishing."

  "So it's isolated?"

  "Parts of it, yes." Duke walked to the doorway and peered into the living room, checking on Laurel. "From what I can tell from searching the Internet."

  "Where exactly in Rough Run am I going?" I said.

  Duke turned back to face me and shrugged. "I'm afraid I don't know, Earth Angel. The map you drew wasn't that precise. You're going to have to do some scouting around when you get there."

  "I'll leave first thing in the morning." I wished I could leave sooner, but there was Laurel to consider. "As soon as she wakes up, anyway."

  "But you said Briar needs a day or two to smooth things over," said Duke.

  "He can catch up." I turned and reached into a cupboard for a pouch of coffee. Got a filter, too, and popped it in the coffee maker. "What about you, Duke? Got any plans for tomorrow? I could use your help."

  Duke leaned closer and stared at me. "You two had a fight, didn't you?"

  I scooped coffee into the filter and closed the top of the coffee maker. "Can you come along tomorrow or what?"

  Duke touched my shoulder. "You're both under a lot of stress, Earth Angel. Things will look better in the morning."

  "We're fine, Duke." I put the coffee pot under the faucet and filled it with water. "Status quo, just like always."

  Duke chuckled. "So he still worships the ground you walk on, and you're oblivious as usual, in other words?"

  I poured the water from the pot into the coffee maker and tried not to act surprised. "What I meant was, we're still partners on a professional level."

  "Which isn't his choice." Duke smiled, and his eyes twinkled. "But I suppose it's been obvious, hasn't it?"

  Not to me, it wasn't. "You're confusing me with Laurel."

  Duke frowned. "You think so?" His eyes shifted toward the living room.

  "Yes." I put the pot on the warmer and switched on the coffee maker. "There's definitely a connection."

  "I don't see it." Duke shook his head.

  "Well, I do," I said. "Then again, what the hell do I know? I don't even know who I really am anymore." As the coffee maker bubbled and hissed, I pushed past Duke toward the bathroom. "Between the visions and the power surges and the people I've never met before telling me they know me, I feel like I don't know anything about myself." I bent over the sink to splash cold water from the tap on my face.

  Duke didn't say anything for a moment. Then, I heard him speak up from the doorway. "What if the visions and surges aren't real, Earth Angel? What if someone's trying to make you doubt yourself? Doesn't it seem like an awfully big coincidence that this is all happening just as you're tracking down whoever killed Aggie and Owen?"

  "But it feels real." I dried my face on a towel. "It feels important." I held the towel in my hands for a moment and stared at it. All the tiny loops of thread in the terrycloth. "Like it's connected to what's happening. Like all of it's connected. I feel it in my gut."

  "You think you'll get the answers when you find the killer," said Duke.

  "Yes." I hung up the towel on the bar on the wall. "I'm not finding them anywhere else, that's for sure."

  Duke got a funny look on his face. His eyes darted away from me, then back. "Maybe you haven't been looking hard enough. Maybe you haven't been pushing hard enough."

  I met his gaze and thought of Laurel. "Maybe you're right." I needed to know what she was holding back. "It's about time I pushed harder."

  "Go ahead." Duke nodded and narrowed his eyes. Turned his hands in the air like wheels. "Demand answers. Maybe they're closer than you think."

  "Okay." I knew he was right. It was about time I found out what Laurel was hiding.

  "Don't take 'no' for an answer." Duke shook his head grimly. "It's one thing to ask for something. When you order someone to give it to you, they'll take you more seriously."

  "You're right. That's what I'll do." I stood there for a moment and held his gaze.

  "Good then." He looked back at me with eyebrows raised expectantly. Hopefully.

  I felt a rush of affection and gratitude. Even when other people let me down, even when I let myself down, Duke was there for me. My steady rock when the rest of the world turned into a landslide. My solid island in an ocean of quicksand.

  Impulsively, I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you," I said, just glad he was there. Glad I wasn't alone in all the madness and sadness.

  Duke frowned. Looked confused. "Now, wait..."

  "So where are those maps you brought me?" I walked out the door and headed for the kitchen. Felt the slightest bit lighter on my feet.

  Duke followed me. "But aren't you going to..."

  I grabbed a giant mug from the cupboard and poured coffee from the pot. "Let's get ready for tomorrow. See if we can narrow down our search even more."

  Duke held up his hands in front of him. "What about those answers you wanted? The ones you were going to demand?"

  I glanced in Laurel's direction. "I'll get them tomorrow," I said, "thanks to you."

  Duke sighed. "Tomorrow then."

  I patted him on the cheek and hurried toward the bedroom with mug in hand. "Bring the maps. I'll fire up the laptop."

  "Will do." Duke sounded disappointed, though I couldn't guess why.

  "We've got our work cut out for us," I told him. "Time to pull an old-fashioned all-nighter."

  *****

  Chapter 29

  I woke up in bed with my clothes on, drooling on my pillow, at 8:15 the next morning. So much for the all-nighter.

  The last number I remembered seeing on the digital clock was 3:30, though I also remembered nodding off several times before then. I guess I'd been more tired than I'd thought. Fighting two all-out battles in one day will do that to you.

  Rolling over, I saw sunlight bleeding through the curtains. Squinting, I threw a forearm over my eyes to block it.

  I lay there for a moment, floating in a blissful cloud of drowsy ignorance. Nothing much on my mind at all.r />
  Then, it all rushed back to me at once. Everything that had happened. Everything I planned to do. It fell over me like a shadow, like a heavy weight. I wished I could go back to sleep, but I knew I couldn't.

  I wished I could at least have a normal day again, the kind where the worst thing I had to deal with was a dissatisfied customer or a rude airline agent. Funny how a humdrum routine can shine like gold when you can't get it anymore. When your life turns into an out-of-control merry-go-round ride.

  After a few more minutes of lazy avoidance, I finally got out of bed. Saw the maps and scribbled notes were exactly where I'd left them at 3:30 in the morning, scattered all over the laptop computer and desk. The laptop was still switched on, with the screen saver running—a computer-generated image of planet Earth, spinning away against a star-filled background.

  I opened the door and wobbled out into the hallway. Used the bathroom, then headed for the living room. Wondering if Laurel might have sneaked out in the middle of the night. Part of me hoping she'd sneaked out, because then I wouldn't have to deal with the mess she'd aimed in my direction.

  But she was still there. In fact, she looked like she hadn't budged all night. I was pretty sure she was in the exact same position as the last time I'd looked in on her, around two a.m.

  Duke was there, too, sitting in the recliner, watching the TV with the sound down. He had the news on, one of the national news channels, and the headline on the screen read, "Freak Quakes Rock Pennsylvania." I saw video of the flattened forest in Cousin Canyon, shot from above. Then video of the ruins of The Tipple, with a close-up on the boulder I'd thrown through the wall.

  I turned and shuffled into the kitchen. Could've done without the reminder of the shitty day I'd had the day before.

  Grabbing a fresh mug from the cupboard, I filled it with cold coffee from the pot, left over from the night before. Had a sip and didn't mind it. Maybe because I still felt like half a zombie.