“Michael,” Cara gasped. “Do you have Michael with you?”
She stiffened. “Easy. He’s only about twenty yards away inside the ice-cream shop.”
“Go get him. The mirror was broken. You have to get him.”
“Calm down. Tell me.”
“There was a scrap of the material they use in the soccer uniforms in the bottom of the box. Red and gold. Don’t ask questions. Go get him. Red and gold.”
“Right.” She dropped the phone. “We’ve got to go get Michael, Joe.” She was out of the car. Her heart was beating so hard she could barely breathe. She could see the boys inside the shop as she started running toward it.
Red and gold.
Red and gold.
Red and gold.
And then there was only red.
The blast knocked her to the ground.
She could see the flames leaping high as the second blast ignited and blew what was left of the shop into the sky.
She screamed.
Joe was running toward the building.
He was going to go get Michael.
She had to help him.
She struggled to her feet.
Another blast!
She was knocked down again as the shops on either side of the Ice Cream Emporium blew up.
Joe was tossed several yards back onto the parking lot and lay still.
Then two more blasts.
The entire square was in flames.
But she had to get to Michael.
Michael was in there. Maybe there was air near the floor. He could be alive. He had to be alive.
She had to get to Michael.
She was on her feet and moving toward the shop.
“No.” Joe was on his knees. His clothes in tatters, his face bleeding. “Not you. I’ll do it.”
What was he saying? Michael was in there. She had to get him out. Fire … So much fire. Joe always wanted to do it, wanted to do everything. But he was her son. She couldn’t let him—
Another explosion.
She was on the ground again. But not from the explosion, Joe had tackled her.
“I’ll do it.” He was staring down at her. “Stay here. I’ll do it.” He was trying to get to his feet. “Stay here.”
“You can’t go in there.” It was one of the police officers who had been in the squad car who had grabbed Joe. “Neither of you. Suicide. The entire square is going up.”
“My son…” Eve was struggling to get up. “Don’t tell me that. I have to get my son.”
“I understand. God, I’m sorry, ma’am.” He nodded to someone over her head. “It’s too late. We have to stop you. I can’t let you—”
“Don’t you hurt her.” Joe tore free from the officer’s hand. “I’ll take care of it.” He was kneeling beside her. “You can’t help, love.” His hand was on her neck. “Just go to sleep for a while…”
Darkness.
* * *
Noise.
So much noise.
Screams. People crying. Sirens. Helicopters.
Crackling. Something was burning …
She opened her eyes. Ambulance. She was lying on a stretcher in an ambulance.
Joe.
But not Joe. His head was bandaged and his face was black with soot except for the streaks on his cheeks. Tears. Joe had been crying. She reached out and touched his cheek. “Joe? Okay?”
“Hi.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “Not okay.” His voice broke on the words. “You’re going to remember in a minute. I had them give you a sedative, but it’s not going to do much good. So I’m going to tell you what’s happening while you can still process it. Norwalk did what he does best and wired the entire square to blow. Not just the ice-cream shop, the whole damn square, so he could have his fantastic ‘statement.’ Thirty-six shops and they don’t know how many victims yet.” His voice was a little unsteady. “Together with the ice-cream shop, they’re guessing at least fifty victims.”
“Ice-cream shop,” she repeated. There was something to recall about the ice-cream shop, but it wasn’t coming clear. “Norwalk…”
“You’ll remember him very soon. What you have to know is that he’s very good at what he does. Those blasts were superefficient. When they went off, no one inside could have survived. It wouldn’t have mattered if we’d managed to get inside. We wouldn’t have found anyone alive. There were a few bodies blown out by the explosion, but even they didn’t survive.” His hand tightened on hers. “You have to understand that. There was nothing you could do once that explosion went off. There was nothing I could do.”
He sounded so desperate, she realized vaguely. Poor Joe, why did he sound so sad and desperate? Why was he pleading with her to understand? She always understood that he did his best. Always.
Explosion?
What had he been talking about?
But the mist was clearing now.
Red and gold. Red and gold.
Red!
She screamed!
Joe grabbed her close, holding her, rocking her back and forth in an agony of sorrow. “I know. I know. Hold on to me. I can’t make it right, but just hold on to me.”
“Michael!”
“I know.” He kept repeating it. “I know. Hold on to me.”
“He didn’t get out?” She couldn’t believe it. “Of course he got out. It’s Michael. Michael couldn’t die. God wouldn’t let Michael die.”
“I didn’t think so either.” The tears were running down his face again. “Not Michael. We need him too much. It shouldn’t have happened.”
“There’s some kind of mistake. I lost Bonnie. I can’t lose Michael, too.” The pain was unbearable. She had to get away from it. She was thrashing back and forth, trying to escape.
Red and gold. Red and gold.
Fire.
Had Michael felt the fire?
No, Joe had said it had happened when the explosion went off.
Michael had died when the explosion had gone off.
No!
Red and gold.
Death was like sleep.
Michael curled up in bed, asleep, with her bending over him.
Red and gold.
“Eve.” Joe holding her tight. “Let me help. Let me do something.”
What could he do? What could anyone do?
If Michael was gone, what could anyone do?
Empty. The world was empty.
Red and gold.
Don’t let the red come again.
Please don’t let it come.
It was a monster, like Norwalk was a monster.
The pain was increasing. She could feel herself curling in a fetal position to get away from it. Go away. Go away. Go away.
Yes, that was what she had to do. Go away and never come back.
Red and gold.
Red and gold.
If she went away, that monster red would never come back. There would only be the dark.
Red and gold …
Darkness.
No, not really darkness.
Swirling gray mist, cold against her hot skin.
Why was it hot?
Fire.
“No, Mama. No fire. Not for me,” Michael said. “Don’t cry. I’d never leave you. Not even like this.”
Red and gold.
But she could see him now. Red-and-gold knee socks. Red shorts, gold jersey. Not smiling. Sad. So sad. But it was Michael, and she could feel the agony of his worry for her.
“Michael?”
“Please don’t hurt like this.” His eyes were moist with tears. “I can’t stand it. I don’t know what to do about it. I want to come to you, but I can’t right now. You might have to come to me.”
“Then I’ll come to you. Just tell me Joe’s wrong.” But he might mean something else. “Or if he’s right, tell me how I can come to be with you there.”
“No, you mustn’t think about that!”
“Then tell me your dad’s wrong.”
“Is that
all it takes to make you stop hurting? It’s true. Dad’s wrong, Mama…”
Cold mist.
Darkness …
And then the overhead light of the interior of the ambulance.
Joe’s face above her.
“Don’t do that to me,” he said unsteadily. “I can’t lose you, too.”
“Not fair,” she murmured. “I know I’m not being fair. I should be stronger for you. But it’s Michael, Joe. I couldn’t stand that I—” She drew him down and held him tight. “But maybe we won’t have to do it. Just hold me for a moment and let me…” Hallucination? Survival in the only way left to her? Or Michael? Oh God, let it be Michael. “Just give me a little time, then we’ll talk…”
CHAPTER
12
“There’s such a thing as wanting something so desperately that you will it into being,” Joe said in a low voice as he stroked her hair. “I don’t know whether it’s mental or the real thing. But there’s no doubt you want Michael back so badly that you could refuse to accept reality and make up your own scenario.”
“I know that I could do that,” Eve said unsteadily. “But I’m hoping that I didn’t. It felt like Michael, Joe. You know that from the moment he was conceived, I could feel him, sense him. I could tell what he was thinking. Later, as he grew older, it faded away. But this was him, Joe. He was upset because I was hurting so badly, and he couldn’t get to me. He said I might have to come to him.” She paused. “I imagine you know what I thought he might mean.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“And he knew also. But he said, ‘No,’ and then, ‘Dad’s wrong.’”
“I want to believe that,” he said thickly. “Lord, I want to believe it.”
“I think I have to believe it,” she said unevenly. “I’m not certain I won’t turn catatonic again if I don’t. Michael wouldn’t like that.” She pushed him away and sat up. “So now I have to act like a coherent human being instead of an emotional wreck. If it’s true, there’s a chance that Michael might need us.” She brushed the hair away from her face. “How badly hurt am I?”
“Not bad. Severe bruising. Your cheek looks swollen and purple like a truck hit you. But the EMTs weren’t worried about your physical health.”
“No, they thought I was heading for a nervous breakdown.” She hoped they were wrong. If she had purpose, if she had a miracle, if she had a chance for Michael, they would be wrong. She was barefoot but she was dressed in an oversized blue man’s shirt and loose khaki pants, “What happened to my clothes?”
“The same thing that happened to mine. Blast. We were too close. But they scrounged a pair of pants and shirt for me, too, from one of the merchants in another shopping center.”
“Call Cara and tell her I need—” Her gaze flew to Joe’s face. “Cara?”
“She’s outside. She and Darcy and Jock got here about thirty minutes ago. I told her she couldn’t see you until after I told you.”
“I’ll have to see her right away. She loves Michael. She must be devastated.”
“Everyone loves Michael. But she has Jock and Darcy. She’s not alone.”
“But sometimes it seems that way, doesn’t it? One person goes away and it seems like the whole world is—” She stopped. “Okay, you go out and talk to them while I pull myself together.” She smiled. “Be sure to let them know what great delusions I’m having. It will save me from explaining, and I really don’t want to go through that craziness.”
“They’ll understand regardless, Eve.” He headed for the door. “Take your time before you decide to come out. What you’re going to see will make you want to turn around and run back inside.”
* * *
Joe was right, Eve thought sickly, as she opened the vehicle door and stepped outside. The formerly small, charming, square looked like a postnuclear disaster site. The shops were almost all totally leveled and on fire. The fire department had been called, and some of the fires had been put out on the end units, but the ones burning in the middle were still feeding each other.
Red and gold.
Red.
Red flame, eating away everything it touched.
Fifty dead. It had touched at least fifty, Joe had said.
TV cameras. Police. Yellow tapes encircling the entire square.
Her gaze was drawn toward the place where the Ice Cream Emporium had stood, but she could no longer tell where it had been. The raging fire had made everything along that stretch one huge flaming conglomeration.
“Eve!” Cara was running toward her, tears running down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. Maybe if I’d seen that scrap of material sooner. Maybe if I’d—” She was in Eve’s arms, holding her close. “I should have been here for you. Maybe if I—”
“Shh, if you give me one more ‘maybe,’ I’ll be very upset with you.” She held her tight an instant longer, then stepped back. “We could all play that word game into infinity and it wouldn’t help. No one is to blame but Rory Norwalk.” She was still staring in horror at the scene before her. “And no one could ever forgive him for it.”
“For nothing.” Darcy was suddenly beside her, her gaze fixed on the inferno, her voice harsh with bitterness. “Like Sylvie. All those people died for nothing. It wasn’t only Michael, he wanted to show you how powerful he was, what he could do.”
“And he did it.” Eve tore her eyes away from the flames. She felt as if she were being pulled into that inferno, devoured in the sorrow of it all. She couldn’t allow that to happen. Not if there was a chance that Michael was still alive. She had to look for him, find him, figure it all out. She forced herself to look at the makeshift morgue at the far end of the square, where she could see the bodies lying on the ground. “I have to look at the bodies that were blown out of the shop. Joe said that none of them were Michael, but I have to see for myself.”
Cara shook her head. “Eve, you don’t want to see—”
“No, I don’t,” Eve interrupted fiercely. “I don’t want to see any of it, but I have to be certain. If Michael’s not one of those boys, then I can eliminate that possibility. Yes, he could be in that inferno or blown to bits, but if I have no evidence, then I can still believe that somehow he’s still alive. I’ve got to believe that to keep me going, Cara.”
Joe stepped forward, and said quietly, “Don’t argue. Just let her go, Cara.”
Cara nodded jerkily. “I’ll go with you, Eve.”
Eve shook her head but didn’t answer. She was already walking toward those tarp-covered bodies. Not only the three boys from the emporium, but six other bodies that had been tossed out like broken dolls from the blast.
A police officer was coming forward to stop her, but Joe waved him aside. “The ones on the end, Eve,” he said quietly as he stepped in front of her. “One quick glance should show you. Don’t let yourself look any longer than that.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Joe,” she said hoarsely.
“I know. It’s just that you have to be able to trust yourself, what you’re feeling.” He lifted the first tarp. “Smaller than Michael. Blond hair.”
She flinched. “Right.”
He lifted the second tarp. “About the same height but very dark hair.”
She nodded.
He lifted the third tarp. “Much taller than Michael.”
She inhaled sharply. The boy’s face had been almost destroyed, but she knew who he was. “Gary.”
“Yes.” He dropped the tarp. “Done?”
“Done.” She said shakily. But it could never be done until Norwalk paid for those atrocities. She turned away. “Thank you, Joe.”
“For giving you new food for nightmares?” He took her arm and drew her away from the bodies. “I want to get you away from here. Will you come home with me?”
“Soon.” She stood looking at the fire. “He’s not there, Joe. Michael’s not there. It’s not my imagination.”
“God, I hope it’s not.” His eyes were glittering with moisture. “It will be hard for an
yone to verify who was killed in that explosion for a long time.”
“Maybe not.” Eve’s gaze never left the flames. “Not if he tells us.”
“What?”
“Norwalk told me he wanted me to see, feel, taste the pain. I believe this qualifies, don’t you? But maybe he thinks it’s not enough, not as close-up and personal as he wants.” She had to say it. “It could be he has other plans for Michael.”
Joe was silent. “Torture?”
“I’m trying not to think of that.” But it was hard not to think of that possibility. “But whatever he plans, he’d want me to see it. He’ll get in touch with me. But it won’t be before he believes I’ve received the full measure of agony from this monstrosity.” She swallowed. “So I’ll stay here for a little while longer and stare at his handiwork in case he has someone here watching me. I’ll pray for those poor victims, and I’ll pray for Michael.” She paused. “And I’ll pray that God gives us a way to strike down that monster and send him straight to the depths of hell.”
* * *
Eve managed to stay almost an hour and thirty minutes longer before she let Joe help her back to the car.
“You look like you’re about to collapse,” he said roughly as he tucked her into the passenger seat. “You should have gone right home. It took too much out of you.”
She nodded wearily. “I felt as if I were bleeding. But so did those other parents who were standing and watching that fire. At least, I have hope to hold on to.”
“I wanted to catch you before you left.” Jock was suddenly beside the car. “One of the TV stations got an interview from the wife of the owner of the Ice Cream Emporium. She said that the coach usually took the boys of his sports teams to the shop for ice cream if they won their game. But last week, one of the fathers dropped by the shop and offered to pay for a gift certificate to offer the coach to buy treats for the boys regardless of whether they won or lost.”
“And the father resembled Rory Norwalk?” Joe asked.
“General description. Irish accent.” His gaze shifted to Eve’s face. “What can I do?” he said gently. His eyes were glowing with sympathy. “I don’t need to say what I’m feeling for you, do I?”
She shook her head. “Just keep on doing what you’re doing. We have to find him, Jock.” She saw his eyes wander back toward the fire. “He’s not there. Believe me.”
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