by Multiple
Jacob heaved a sigh. “Well, things seem to have calmed down here. I suppose we’ll stick with the original plan and go to what’s left of my brother’s house.”
“What about the mess?”
“I have a cleaning service. I’ll give them a call later.” Jacob went and opened the door. “Shall we?”
Chapter Five
Jacob insisted on driving and I let him without protest. I didn’t like to drive with passengers anymore. Leaning my head against the window, I closed my eyes and tried to empty my mind, but couldn’t. Once the flashbacks started, I had no choice but to let them run their course.
Of all the bad memories, I had managed to avoid the worst. I hadn’t seen Mark die. The last thing I remembered was the sound of glass shattering and then nothing until days later when I woke up in a hospital room. I knew the second I opened my eyes that Mark was gone and the handcuffs on my wrists left no doubts about who would be held responsible.
Celia had come to visit me then, even before the police, sweeping into my room with the grandeur of a queen. Her eyes flashing, she had informed me in great detail exactly how I would go to prison for the death of her son.
Jacob nudged my arm, bringing me back to the present once more. “You’re blanking out again. Are you okay?”
I nodded, mute, and put a hand to my chest as if to quiet the rapid pounding of my heart.
“We’re almost there.” When I didn’t respond, he looked at me closely. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
Again I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. What could I say anyway? ‘Sorry, I’m out of it. I’m busy remembering the day my boyfriend died?’ We didn’t know each other well enough for that conversation and talking about it just made the pain worse. The only thing that helped was alcohol, but I was hours away from a drink. I would just have to tough it out.
Jacob slowed and turned into a driveway. I sat up and watched as we approached what remained of his brother’s house. Before the fire, the house looked to have been an imposing colonial. Charred white columns still supported a roof over the porch and most of the facade of the house had survived intact—if shattered windows, holes, caved in ceilings, and large scorch marks qualified as intact.
Jacob pulled up to the edge and put the car in park. “This is it.”
I looked at the rubble, my eyes wide. If I leaned to my right, I could see past the front of the house to a gaping hole on the side. “Wow.”
“Yeah, it was a pretty big explosion.”
“Is it safe?”
He shrugged. “It’s not hot anymore.”
“What about to walk through?” I unfastened my seat belt.
“I don’t know. Probably not.”
Great. My job just got harder. I opened the door and left the car to walk the edge of the site. Because it had been a gas explosion the house hadn’t just collapsed in on itself, it had also shot pieces of wood and other debris across the lot. Two by fours had become projectile missiles, planting themselves in the ground, and glass littered the earth, crunching underneath my feet. Splintered wood and charred support beams filled the foundation of the house. There was no way I would be able to get where I needed to go in that mess.
On cue, a cold wind traced its way up my spine. “Hello Mark.” I turned to face him.
He hovered over me and smiled. His aura was all shiny again, like he’d forgotten our angry conversation in the car. “I thought you could use some help with this.”
For once, his death presented an advantage. “Do you think you could scan the debris for me, find a pathway maybe?”
Mark nodded and flitted off, diving in and out of the wreckage like a dolphin cutting through waves. After several minutes he came zooming back to me, stopping just short of passing through me.
“I think I’ve found the crime scene and a safe way to get there.” He gave me a triumphant smile.
“Good.” I turned and went back to the car where Jacob still sat inside. I tapped on his window. There was a mechanical whir as the window came down. “I’m going in.”
“Should I come with you?”
I shook my head. “No, stay here. I might need you if I get into trouble.” The last thing I wanted was for us both to get trapped under shifting rubble. Better to have Jacob on firm ground and ready to get help.
He nodded, and the window went back up. I made my way back to the house, and, following Mark’s directions, began the delicate task of navigating the ruins. I felt like a gymnast on a balance beam that had been run through a chainsaw. The remains of the house shifted as I trailed Mark, threatening to suck me into the pits of spiked debris underneath. Finally though, I lowered myself into what had once been a basement.
There’s something unsettling about the desolation of what was once a home that contained a happy family. It’s malformed, twisted, like someone with leprosy. You know there’s a person underneath the disease, but it’s damn hard to see past the sores. The vibe I got didn’t help either. Dark and evil energy coalesced and flowed around me, poking and prodding, trying to find a way in to consume me.
I took a deep breath and looked to the sky to center myself. Fortunately, it was still daylight, which sapped strength from the negative energy centered in the house. Even so, it still took my breath away. I wouldn’t want to be here at night.
I meditated for a moment like that, my head up, soaking in the light from above and preparing my mind for the transition back in time. When I was ready, I knelt and lay my hands on the floor, grounding the energy of my body and let my shields drop. In a flash, I peeled away layers of time until I found the night of the explosion.
A man was tied up to a weight bench, a white athletic sock stuffed in his mouth for a gag. Not that he could’ve spoken as he was unconscious. From his dark good looks, looks that reminded me of Jacob, I assumed this was his brother. Back by the washing machine were two more figures, also bound and gagged, but from their frantic movements, they appeared to be conscious. I mentally pushed myself through the scene to where they lay. One of the figures was, Darla, who I recognized by her long blonde hair and white nightgown. The rope wound round her slim body made her look like a china doll in bondage. The woman next to Darla must be her mother, she had the same blonde hair and blue eyes, the same delicate face. They looked all too breakable, both of them.
The only people in the basement not tied up were two men. One, dressed in all black, tall and thin with a big hooked nose and fine, long fingered hands. The other had the physique of a football player who started taking steroids in utero. His biceps bulged with muscle and his pecs, while firm, were big enough to warrant a bra. The thick block of his neck blended right into his shoulders. The guy had the disturbing tendency to leer at the girl’s mother.
The man in black moved to stand next to Jason, a black leather satchel in one hand. He set the bag down on the cement floor and unzipped it, withdrawing a tourniquet and a set of surgical instruments. “Tomas, bring me the bucket,” he said to the football goon.
Tomas lumbered to do as the man in black asked. Dropping a white plastic pail next to the satchel, he returned to the mother, running a hand up her leg and smiling when she flinched. My skin crawled as Tomas lifted her skirt above her hips at the same time the man in black wrapped a tourniquet around Jason’s arm and stabbed a needle into a vein. I tried to close my eyes, but they were already closed and metaphysics didn’t recognize eyelids anyway.
The past continued to play out in my mind’s eye like streaming video. Video I couldn’t stop. I was about to witness a rape and a murder. From a great distance, I felt bile rise up in my throat. Oh, God.
I almost broke contact and walked out. There were some things I just refused to watch, but the man in black finally seemed to notice what Tomas was up to.
“What are you doing? Stop it.” He walked over the Tomas and slapped the goon’s hands away.
Tomas gave the man in black a dirty look. “The boss didn’t say I couldn’t.”
“I am th
e boss, you idiot.” The man in black gave an impatient shake of his head. “Or should I suggest that you get a collar? Make you into a puppet for the cause? At least then I could count on you to follow orders.”
Tomas blanched and then glowered, but his partner didn’t notice. I wondered what kind of collar would scare a muscleman like Tomas.
Just then, a smothered wail sounded, and Darla, who had managed to pull herself upright, fell against the man in black, knocking him to the ground. Spunky kid.
The man in black landed on his tailbone, hands raised to fend her off. Darla spit out her gag and lunged, snapping her mouth around a finger, biting down hard until I heard the sound of bone cracking. He screamed and kicked her off of him with such force, she flew through the air and slammed against the concrete wall.
“Bloody hell,” he said wrapping his hand in a T-shirt he grabbed from a nearby laundry basket. “The little bitch bit me. I’m bleeding.” He walked over to where the Darla lay, still and silent. Swearing, he planted several vicious kicks in her ribs. “I think she broke my finger.”
“What do you want me to do?” asked Tomas, looking clueless.
The man in black whirled on Tomas. “I want you to pay, you jackass, for your stupidity. If I fail, it will be because of you, and I will make sure everyone knows it.”
Tomas had the good sense to remain silent, his face impassive. If it had been me, I would’ve run. There was no doubt in my mind the man in black would make Tomas pay in really painful ways for any mistakes.
The man in black took a deep, steadying breath. “Take her,” he pointed to Darla, “and put her with her mother. Make sure she won’t be any trouble.” At that, the mother moaned and thrashed in her bounds, but neither Tomas nor the man in black paid attention to her.
Tomas scooped Darla’s limp form up with a surprising amount of grace for his size and dropped her back by her mother. She landed on the cement floor with a dull, hopeless thud.
The man in black winced as he tested his finger and said, “Find the gas valve and set the timer. We’ve got an hour before the bank opens, we have to be done by then.”
“Sure thing.” Tomas disappeared with a little black bag of his own into the dark, unlit part of the basement while the man in black returned to his instruments. I concentrated my energy and followed Tomas knowing I didn’t want to see what the man in black was going to do next. Watching people die wouldn’t help me or Jacob. What I needed was information, and when in doubt, eavesdrop on the stupidest criminal. A tip I picked up from my PI classes.
It was a good move. I lucked out as Tomas had a cell phone and he called someone who, based on his habit of calling her ‘babe’, I decided was a girlfriend. He chatted with her the whole time he was rigging an explosive device to the main gas line to the house.
“You all packed, babe?” he asked.
My stomach turned at his version of a lovey-dovey voice. The man had been ready to rape a woman in front of her own child. Disgusting. I said as much, I couldn’t keep it in even though I knew Tomas would never hear me.
“Yeah, we’re almost done here. This dude I’m with is nuts, but the pay is good. I should have my cut of the money by noon and then we’re off to the tropics. Just you, me, and a big wad of cold, hard cash.”
I heard the girl say something on the other end, but couldn’t quite make out the words.
“Don’t worry, babe. It’ll be a clean job. The bank president is going to do all the stealing for us, they’ll never know I was involved. Hell, I probably don’t even have to leave the country.”
She said something in response, her tone disapproving.
Tomas laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Better safe than sorry. Don’t worry, I’m not going to change our plans.” He twisted a final wire. “Well, I’m done here. I’d better get going. We’re leaving for the bank soon. See you later, babe.” He flipped his phone shut and shoved it into a pocket. Not bothering to pick up his tools or spare wire, he opened the valve on the gas main and hit the power button on a timer made out of a digital alarm clock. “Show time,” he said with a grin as he walked back to the main part of the basement.
I followed, hiding behind Tomas so all I could see was his broad back. The extent of my x-ray vision was limited to my eyelids, I couldn’t see through solid objects. Fortunately, the man in black had already done whatever it was he did as he met Tomas halfway.
“Is the timer on the igniter set?” he asked.
Tomas waved a hand. “Yep. We’ve got five minutes.”
“Excellent. Let’s go.”
Watching over Tomas’ shoulder as the men made to leave, I saw a third man had joined them. It was Jason, but something was off. His eyes were empty and his face slack. He stood still and stiff and unmoving. I went up to him, close enough that, if I’d been more than a mental presence, we would’ve touched, and watched his chest. It didn’t move. Jason wasn’t breathing. He didn’t blink either. He was risen from the dead.
I started to hyperventilate then. It was too much. I knew there was nothing I could do to change the past, knew my abilities didn’t work that way. But I still felt dirty, tainted by my powerless witness of what had happened to Jacob’s family. Once I fulfilled my obligation to Jacob, I vowed I would never take another case again. I was tired of being surrounded by death.
A muffled shout caught my attention and I focused back on what was happening. The man in black, Tomas, and the zombie Jason had become, had all reversed their direction on the stairs leading out of the basement and were backing down. The man in black looked worried.
Curious, I moved up to see a tall, burly man advance down the stairs. Seeing his face, I couldn’t hold back a gasp of surprise. It was Malcolm, my new neighbor, the guy I had thought resembled a teddy bear, only now with his set jaw, narrowed eyes, and a white wand extended in front of him like a sword, he looked dangerous. So dangerous, I forgot he couldn’t see or touch me and I flitted back into a lone corner to watch what would happen next.
“Halt in the name of the Druid Council,” Malcolm said, his voice a thunderous roar.
“You’re too late to save anyone, Druid,” sneered the man in black glancing at Tomas out of the corner of his eye. An unspoken communication passed between the two and Tomas blinked and inclined his head in a subtle nod.
Malcolm hadn’t noticed their body language and continued his descent down the stairs. “I can still stop this abomination of the circle and mete out your punishment, necromancer.”
“I think you have misjudged me, Druid,” the man in black said calmly.
Tomas shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet and behind his back, his hands folded into fists. At the same time, the man in black threw a dark powder into the air, and, when Malcolm flinched, Tomas moved in, first knocking the wand out of the way and then smashing one fist into Malcolm’s temple. It happened so fast it was anti-climatic.
Moving quickly, Tomas dragged Malcolm’s body out of the way and bound his hands with a length of rope he picked up off the floor.
“Damn druids,” muttered the man in black. “Always trying to interfere with their stupid circle code. Pretending they work for the common good instead of power. The only difference between them and me is at least I’m honest about my intentions.”
Tomas waved to the stairs. “We’d better get going, the house is going to blow soon.”
“Very well. Let’s go,” the man in black said. He motioned to Jason. “You lead the way.”
With heavy, awkward steps, as if he’d forgotten how to walk, Jason moved forward. His movements deliberate, he gripped the banister and climbed the stairs, contemplating each one as if he’d never seen a step before.
Behind him, the man in black sighed. “I hate it when they first rise. They’re always so slow. Come on, zombie, pick up the pace.” There was a hint of power in his voice, and, in my altered consciousness, I could see how it tied into Jason’s aura—if you could call the black smog that cloaked him an aura.
My jaw
dropped. This was no zombie with a half rotted face and a strong craving for fresh brains. Aside from his stiff movements and pale color, he looked normal. No one would look twice at him. Yet Jason had become a slave to the man-in-black.
My mind raced, what if he also retained his memories and they, too, were at the necromancer’s service? I shuddered. That meant all the bank pass codes, all the little key pieces of information needed to access a vault were readily available. And the person caught on camera committing the crime was already dead.
Wow. My mind boggled. A zombie bank heist. Who would’ve thought? Not me. Not in a million years. How was he so lifelike? I didn’t know a ton about zombies because necromancers weren’t exactly common, but I did know they were supposed to rot. Jason looked more alive than dead. It freaked me out.
I watched as Jason jerked in response to the man’s command, stomping up the steps at a faster clip. All three men disappeared up the staircase, and I listened as they left the house, a door slamming behind them.
On the floor, Malcolm stirred and groaned. I went to him, and even though I knew he wouldn’t hear me, I said, “Hurry up. This place is going to blow.”
Of course he didn’t respond, and I had to content myself with knowing he survived. He had to or else how would I have met him? He had to regain consciousness and get out in time, there was no other possibility. I went to the timer Tomas had set. There was a minute left, a minute for Malcolm to wake up and get the hell out of the basement. It wasn’t enough time. Couldn’t be, not unless Malcolm could run with superhuman speed, which I didn’t rule out, because, with druids you never knew. They were pretty secretive about their powers.
Anxious, I returned to Malcolm and yelled his name as loud as I could. Nothing. He was out, gone from this world and about to be blown into the next. How was he going to survive?
A bright light flashed in the basement just then, and I ducked, hands raised to cover my eyes. When my vision cleared, two other druids in the traditional white robe, the fabric gathered against their bodies with a black cord, stood over Malcolm, grim expressions on their lined faces.