“Yes, well, if we are having a contest, I still believe I win.” He smiled at her and her heart thumped automatically. Its growing inability to behave itself upset her. Taking her tea, she went to stand in front of the glass doors, watching the sun that was beginning to rise in streaks of peach and orange over the mountain.
It looked like it might be clear again, another sunny day that seemed miraculous after so much winter gloom. Days like this made it seem like spring might actually be a possibility. Only one lazy gray cloud drifted low across the valley, like a small patch of dirty fog.
“Asher. Ash, come here.”
He turned back halfway through the office door.
“What is it?” he asked, coming to stand beside her and looking out across the valley.
“Is that smoke?”
The lazy gray puff was definitely moving upward, and it didn’t look like fog now, but it was still dim outside and her vision wasn’t as good as his. His eyes tracked the direction her hand was pointing.
He looked back at her, wide-eyed.
“Asher,” she said, “that’s where my house is.”
19
“Stop. Hannah. You cannot go there. If there is a fire at your house then it is most definitely a trap.”
Hannah took a deep breath, staring at the smoke and picturing everything she knew turning to ashes, her house being swallowed by angry orange flames. She willed her eyes to work better, squinting to see if she could tell from so far away if it really was her house burning.
“I have to do something,” she said. “I can’t just stand here and watch.”
Asher was a half step behind her when she flung open the door to her room and yanked on her socks and boots, then spun around to find her coat.
She collided with him, slamming into his chest on her way back out the door.
“Move. Get out of the way.”
He moved, but to widen his stance, filling the doorway completely.
“Move!” She slammed both fists against his chest, her eyes tearing up with frustration.
His arms closed around her shoulders like iron bands, pinning her arms against her chest. She struggled against him, but she could hardly breathe, let alone get away.
“Hannah, stop.” Asher spoke evenly into her ear, not letting her move. She kept fighting him, angry at being restrained, scared of what might be happening to everything she had in the world.
“Shhh,” he said. “Hannah, stop.”
She finally gave up, going limp, and let a few hot tears soak into his shirt before sniffing and forcing herself to get it together.
“You can let go,” she mumbled into his chest. He loosened his grip, just a little, and she took in a deep breath. He pushed her away to arm’s length, keeping hold of the tops of her arms.
“Can I at least call the fire department, or the sheriff, to find out what’s happening?” she said. “I understand running down there wouldn’t be smart, but I can’t just sit here. What if it is my house and someone goes in there thinking I’m inside and gets hurt?”
Hannah thought about Sheriff Morgan. He wouldn’t hesitate to run in there if he thought she was inside. The firefighters wouldn’t either, if there was a chance someone might be trapped. She squirmed herself out of his grip and tried to squeeze past him.
“Let me through. I’m just going to look out the window. Are there any binoculars here?”
He stepped aside, stopping to rummage through a shelf in the coat closet while Hannah ran to the window.
Asher didn’t hand the binoculars to her but looked first at what was now a long, dark snake of smoke slithering skyward. He lowered them from his eyes and held them out, but didn’t immediately let go when Hannah tried to pull them away.
“It is either your house or the barn. I am sorry, I cannot see which one. There is too much smoke.”
Holding up the binoculars, she couldn’t tell either, but she knew he was right, that something on her property was on fire. It didn’t matter which, because if it was one it would soon be the other as well, they were so close together. Opening the sliding door a crack, she listened, hoping the wind would carry the sound of a siren to her ear, but she couldn’t hear anything. When she pulled the door shut Asher reached over and pushed down the lock with one hand, holding a phone out with the other.
“Call the sheriff on this phone. Keep it brief. Tell him something, maybe that you are out of town and a neighbor called you and said they saw smoke. Get them to send the fire department, though chances are if we saw the smoke, someone else has as well.”
She tried to take the phone, but he held on with two fingers and she looked up at him.
“Hannah, this is not a good idea. This has to be a trap.”
Yanking the phone from his hand, she turned it over, tapping the screen to wake it up.
“I know that. But if someone is burning my house down to get my attention, they must have assumed I’d be close enough to see it. In that case, how long until they find us anyway?”
The phone screen went dark. She looked at the charcoal-colored smoke, thinning in the wind as it drifted over the trees and toward the town.
“Is there any safe option?” she said. “What else can we do?”
It killed her to just stand there, watching from a distance while her whole life burned. She pictured the canister of ashes, melting in on itself, mixing with the charred remains of everything else she had. And those were just the things. She prayed no one was right now putting themself in harm’s way because of her.
But it was reckless to rush in blindly, and she was afraid, frightened of what might be outside, who she might be faced with if she took the bait. And it had to be bait. She had no more illusions about whoever had been slinking around her property being unconnected to Asher’s appearance; the fire had convinced her it wasn’t a coincidence.
Asher ran his hand through his hair, standing the front on end.
“There is nothing we can do. We should not even be here,” he said. “I should have taken you out of this area the first chance we had, the day I pulled you out of the water. Or before even that. But it is far too late now. Even if we leave this instant someone may be watching the roads, waiting for us to make an appearance. If it is my sister, we can assume she has every base covered. I do not think they know precisely where we are, but they will if we make a move. I think that we should—”
A ringing interrupted him, and they both started.
“Hannah, is that your phone?”
She nodded, wide-eyed. “I turned it off. You know I did, in the car when we were leaving. I haven’t touched it since. It’s still in my bag in the closet.”
He looked at her with accusation in his eyes while it rang on.
“Asher, I did not touch that phone. I didn’t turn it on.” It went silent, and she went and fished it out of the bottom of the bag. It began to ring again the moment it was in her hand.
Sheriff Morgan, the display read. She silenced it and handed it to him. “It was off. I know it was. Besides, it was almost dead then, still is. If it’d been on all this time the battery would be completely toast.”
He took it from her, looking at the screen. Suddenly his eyes widened. He turned it toward her, and she saw the preview of a text come across the screen.
Pick up the phone, brother.
Asher stared at the phone, frozen. It began to ring again.
“It’s coming from the sheriff’s phone. We have to answer it.” Not that Hannah wanted to, especially now that they knew for certain who they were dealing with.
Asher slid his finger across the screen. He held the phone to his ear, then immediately lowered it and touched the screen, holding it between them.
“Yes, that’s right. I want her to hear this too.” The woman’s voice was silky and low. “Since I’ve had to truncate my carefully crafted timeframe, I’ve been forced to employ some alternate measures so we can get back on track. Toward that end, why don’t you say hello to nice Mr. Sheriff.�
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“Don’t do anything she says! Call the state—” Sheriff Morgan’s garbled voice was silenced with the sound of a thud, followed by a cry of pain. The woman’s voice—Amara’s voice—on the other hand, was as level and sugary as when she first spoke, not at all affected by the tortured sounds she was squeezing out of the sheriff.
“Now that I have your attention, we’re going to meet up a little sooner than I planned. I was hoping we could all have a nice family-style sit down in your ugly little kitchen, but since it’s well on its way to being an ash pile we’ll just have to adapt.”
Hannah looked at Asher desperately, but he was staring stone-faced at the phone screen.
“You can meet me behind the house in half an hour. I won’t be hard to find. Just park behind the sheriff’s car and follow his lumbering trail through the woods. We’ll have a great view of the house, even better than you have now.” She paused. “Oh, and brother, don’t bother trying to run. I know it’s what you do, but resist the urge. If you even try I will slowly and painfully kill the man you just heard, every person in those firetrucks about to roll in, and anyone else who happens to wander by. If you still aren’t here, I’ll start calling the police and firemen from the next town. And on and on, you get the idea. Do you want that on your increasingly guilty conscience?”
The screen went black.
Asher and Hannah stood still in shock, then so quickly she almost didn’t see him move, the phone flew across the room and shattered against the stone fireplace, bits of electronics and glass raining to the floor. She backed away from the expression of rage on his face.
“We have to go, we don’t have much time,” Hannah said very quietly, edging toward the door.
Asher spoke, standing like a statue again. “We can try to flee. She can only be in one place at a time. Even if Amara has help, the focus will be on where she thinks you will go, which is to her.” His voice was low and eerily calm.
“Asher, she said she’ll kill the sheriff and anyone else who turns up. Do you think she’s kidding?”
He shook his head. “No, I know that she is not. She will do as she says. But if we do go to her, she will kill them anyway. And then after you have watched her end the lives of those innocent people, she will slowly and painfully kill you. When I have seen her do that, one more time she will end me. We have danced this dance before, many times, she and I.”
Finally Asher moved, stopping Hannah from opening the door. He stood in front of her, hand wrapped around her wrist, fingers overlapping, making her meet his eyes.
“Hannah, I would save you. We can run, and there is a chance we can make it away from here. You can have a little more time. Some more of this life. I would not have you die today.”
She placed a hand on each side of his face and considered it closely, because she could and she might not have another opportunity. Her hands felt cool against his fiery warm skin.
“I don’t want to die. But we can’t run if there’s a chance of stopping her hurting them. You know it.”
He looked at her, his eyes sad. “I know.”
Flying down the driveway in daylight was even worse than barreling up it in total darkness, though Asher maneuvered the sharp turns deftly in the big black SUV. Hannah’s compact had looked like a sad little clown car next to it in the garage, and she wasn’t sure it would have survived a trip down at this speed, skiing around corners, not pausing for ruts or potholes. They burst out onto the road, fishtailing across the single lane, then slamming to a halt. Asher threw the SUV into park and turned to her.
“I do not know what to expect. I wish I could tell you I have a plan, but Amara will have covered every possibility. She is smarter than I, more ruthless, and utterly without mercy. If you have a chance, run. Promise her anything.” He grabbed Hannah’s arm, gave her a jarring shake. “Promise her anything. Do anything, do you hear me. If you have to kill me to distract her, do it if you think you can get away. Put a bullet in my heart.”
“Asher, I can’t—”
“Hannah, listen to me. Amara will be ready for me, I have no doubt she will consider my every move. But you? She will underestimate you, because she believes you beneath her. If you can, use it against her. It may be your only chance.”
He let go of her and opened the console, pulling out a pair of ugly black handguns. “There is no safety. Just point and shoot. Do not hesitate to take her out. Do. Not. Hesitate. Killing her will put her far enough away long enough to give you a chance to run.”
There was nothing to dispute, and she nodded dumbly, taking the gun from him. Copying him, she jammed it down the back of her jeans and hoped she didn’t shoot her ass off.
“Whatever happens, if you can get away and I die, when I come back I will find you, without fail.”
He held her eyes until she looked away, trying to breathe, trying to think. He put the car in gear and they drove the rest of the short way, every foot bringing them closer to Amara.
Hannah knew what she hoped she would do when the time came. If she could prevent Amara from harming the innocent people involved, be selfless and willing to sacrifice even herself, she would have accomplished something in her short life. She wanted to be brave; she hoped she could be. But being brave and putting away your fear was one thing in theory; reality, she knew very well, was very different.
Asher parked on the little widening of the road where the sheriff had looked for the inhabitants of the white SUV. Sheriff Morgan was in danger because he was doing his job, had gone above and beyond it looking out for her. Hannah sent up a brief prayer that he would make it out alive.
She took a step toward the embankment, but Asher pulled her back.
“Take these,” he said, putting the car keys in her coat pocket and zipping it shut. “If something happens to me, I do not want them to disappear with me.” She nodded woodenly. “If you can get away, take the car and drive, fast and far. Everything you need is in it.”
He went ahead, taking the step down the small incline, then reaching a hand up for her. He didn’t let go of it immediately but paused to look at her, nodding with determination. She knew how naive she was to hope this would end differently than they imagined. Asher’s face told her she was walking to her end.
20
There was a haze in the air and tendrils of smoke were curling through the trees. The smell of char was heavy even this far from the house, and Hannah thought she could hear the fire, a low crackle behind the sound of their feet. Her home was settling into ruin. Not long ago it seemed so important. It felt like a meaningless detail right now. Chances were she would never see it again anyway, so did it matter if it stood?
They were only a few yards from the small clearing behind her house where the creek lay like a frozen snake across the snowy ground. They hesitated a moment, Hannah behind Asher’s broad back, before stepping out into the open space.
Two bodies in the familiar green of the sheriff’s department uniform lay neatly side by side on the ground, unmoving.
“Run,” Asher hissed. Hannah turned but was stopped before she could take a step by a figure appearing on the path in front of her.
“I shot the sheriff.” The woman laughed melodiously. “Might be my first one. I’ve been wanting to say that since nineteen seventy-three.” She paused then added as an afterthought, “The deputy I strangled.”
Asher grabbed Hannah with one hand and pushed her squarely behind him.
Amara smirked. “So gallant. You always did have a protective streak when it came to the fairer sex. And you have a little incentive in this case, even more than your usual sentimental garbage.” Amara took a step toward them and Asher walked backward, pushing Hannah as he moved. She had no idea what Amara meant, and she couldn’t see Asher’s face to gauge his reaction.
Hannah could see Amara though, just barely, through the small gap between Asher’s arm and side. They were twins; there was no doubting the connection when you saw them together. Her honey-golden hair exactly matche
d his, and was long and as shiny as burnished metal, falling to the middle of her back in waves. She was tall, statuesque—though where Asher was broad and muscular she was gracefully curvy. The only real difference was in their faces. Their features were similar, and both were unusually beautiful, to be sure, but her face was not softened by anything like human emotion. Her eyes were the same strange shade of blue gray as Asher’s, but flinty and cold. She had a face that could match any woman in the world, but her perfect lips were marred by the twist of her sneer.
“Nothing to say? No surprise there,” Amara said. “Hannah dear, my brother never was the sharpest tool in the shed.”
Amara reached inside her jacket and swiftly pulled out a small, snub-nosed handgun. Asher stiffened and shifted slightly, blocking Hannah’s view again. Hannah reached back and fingered the gun wedged against her own back, ice cold against her bare skin.
“Step aside, brother. I’d like to see your new little friend face to face. You really can’t take a person’s measure as completely from a distance,” Amara said. “And she’s been rather shy of late; you both have. That tart from the grocery store didn’t have any idea where you went, despite how intimately attached she claimed you were. Changed her tune pretty quickly though. Couldn’t take the heat.” Amara flicked her eyes toward Hannah’s house and laughed at her own joke. “The poor little sheriff didn’t have any better idea. So funny he ended up being so useless when he’s the whole reason I was able to find you in the first place. Between that police sketch and the accident photos in the paper, he might as well have called to give me directions to town.” She nudged the still form with the toe of her black leather boot. “Granted, neither he or the little boy deputy here knew where you’d run off to. Their little fireman friends didn’t either. Necks like twigs.” She sighed dramatically. “They really don’t make them like they used to.” Amara laughed, a sound like fingernails tapping at a wine glass. “I knew you had to be around here somewhere and probably could have found you in five more minutes, so telling me where you were wouldn’t have helped them anyway. I just wanted to make sure you understood the seriousness of the situation and didn’t do anything silly like trying to run. My brother is a coward by nature, so I’m sure he made you that offer first.”
Echoes (Book 1): Echoes Page 16