Dark Series, The Color of Seven and The Color of Dusk (Books We Love Special Edition)

by Gail Roughton

  Paul thought of the sun catching the reddish highlights of Ria’s hair.

  “You know how long it’s been since I’ve seen sunrise, Charlie?”

  “Right around a century and a quarter,” Dr. Knight responded with barely a pause. “I was always good at quick figures. So can you try, you think?”

  “Yes. I can try.”

  “But no matter what happens, you do understand what I’m telling you about Ria? Long haul. You got that?”

  “You really believe that, don’t you?”

  “Son, I know that.”

  “All right. Long haul. Got it.”

  “Then let’s get to it,” Dr. Knight said. He threw open his car door. “And when I get through with you, you’ll think I’m the vampire.”

  * * *

  Paul materialized in Ria’s bedroom. He had maybe an hour until dawn. As though she felt him even in her sleep, she stretched and turned. She smiled as her eyes opened and she held out her arms. He wiped all thoughts of the future from his mind and gathered her close. The house sighed in contentment, always happy to know its master was home.

  Later, in the last minutes of darkness left, Ria purred contentedly into his shoulder.

  “Well, you survived Daddy very nicely.”

  “Barely. He’s the vampire,” Paul said, flexing his right arm as it lay under her hair.

  Ria turned her head, pulling his arm over her face and running her lips lightly along the sensitive skin of his inner forearm.

  “Don’t start something I don’t have time to finish,” Paul warned. “It’s almost dawn.”

  “Wouldn’t it be wonderful? If you could watch the dawn?”

  “Ria, don’t hope too much, darlin’.’”

  “I know. But when did Daddy say he’d know anything?”

  “Several days at least. Go back to sleep,” he said, and grabbed one last kiss before the first rays broke over the horizon. He left.

  * * *

  Three nights later, Dr. Knight’s voice sounded over the buzzer’s intercom. Ria raced downstairs and hauled him up the steps.

  “C’mon, Daddy! Lord, turtles move faster!”

  “Jesus, baby! Give the old man a chance to catch his breath!” He pretended to stagger over the couch and fell heavily on the cushions.

  “Knock it off! You run five miles a day!”

  “Do not!”

  “Do too!”

  “Children, children!” Paul called for order. “Ria, give your father a chance. And Charlie, just quit it! Nobody believes the old man act, all right?”

  “C’mon, Daddy! What’ve you got?”

  “Well, I can’t tell you a lot, but I can tell you two things.”

  “Well, what?”

  “Good news first?”

  “Daddy!”

  “Okay, okay! Well, the good news is I think I’ve discovered the cure for cancer.”

  “And the bad news?” asked Paul, with lifted eyebrow.

  “Cure’ll kill you.”

  Ria groaned and Paul laughed. Something in Charlie’s face hinted at possibilities.

  “Okay, seriously. Stu Harmon’s ‘bout to go crazy. That’s my—”

  “We know, we know. Big chief at the Atlanta Center for Disease Control.” Ria knew her father had driven directly to Dr. Harmon’s home Sunday afternoon with the samples. “So give!”

  “Well, we’re not sure about the DNA changes, too soon. But we think the big thing’s the blood. Or whatever it is, ‘cause it sure as hell ain’t blood. It’s a sterilizing agent. Sterilizes everything.”

  “Sterilizes?”

  “It eats any foreign body that invades it. That’s why there’s no waste product to throw off. I gotta say, Paul’d be my first choice for a traveling companion on a car trip. Wouldn’t have to make any pit stops at all on his account.”

  Paul frowned. “And this means what in terms of doing anything to correct it?”

  “Stu’s introduced all sorts of cultures in the samples. So far, the samples have eaten everything. It’s the universal cure for what ails you. Stu hasn’t tried yet but we think it’ll even eat the HIV virus. In fact, it seems to be pretty much the opposite of AIDS. The AIDS virus attacks the immune system and lets anything invade. This thing, Stu calls it the V-Factor, it completely overhauls the immunities and nothing seems to bother it, not even the aging process. ‘Course, the side-effects, they’ll—”

  “Kill you,” Paul supplied.

  “Well, actually, maybe not. Think about it a minute, Paul. What actually killed you was exsanguination. That’s blood loss to you, Ria. Maybe if you hadn’t been literally drained dry—”

  “No, back up. The V-Factor changes the immune system and that’ll kill you anyway. Because then the system doesn’t sustain normal life. It alters it completely. It isn’t life by any of our definitions.”

  “But maybe if normal blood is reintroduced, it’ll dilute the V-Factor to the extent that some amount of normal function is possible.”

  “But if it eats any foreign substance introduced,” Ria broke in, “normal blood is a foreign substance and it’ll absorb it immediately before any dilution can take place. And what the hell does any of this have to do with the night-time thing? Or the teleportation?”

  “Well, shit, baby! It’s been three days. We’re not going to figure everything out in three days, or weeks, or months or years! We’ve got a lot more testing to do. But it’s more than we did know. And we do have an idea.”

  “Which is?” Paul asked.

  “Transfusions of normal blood.”

  “Daddy, you just said—”

  “With some of the anti-rejection drugs developed for transplants. We got to start somewhere. What do you think, Paul?”

  Paul looked at Ria.

  “I think it won’t hurt to try.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  A week after her father’s visit, Ria walked out to her car. Friday afternoon and she had three new appointed criminal cases, all three clients currently enjoying the hospitality of the local Law Enforcement Center, more commonly known as the jail. Ordinarily, she detested walking down its halls. Today, though, her spirits were high and not even the impending and annoying wolf-whistles and cat calls she knew she’d hear could dent her mood.

  It was the first week of December. Christmas was coming, and after the holidays, they’d try the first of the transfusions. Of course, Paul and her father warned her every other breath not to expect much of anything this early in the research project. She still walked through the days in euphoric anticipation, though. It was a start. It was something.

  A glazed ham baked slowly in her oven upstairs. Tonight was an early holiday dinner party. Sort of. Dennis Billings and his girlfriend were coming over. She liked keeping an eye on Dennis, that boy’d come around just fine. She was proud of him. And her law partner Johnny was footloose and fancy-free that evening, too, so he’d be there. Ria didn’t enjoy cooking much but the holidays were something else altogether. Especially this year. Good friends, good company. And Paul.

  Her mind was running over the night’s menu to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything as she walked into the old carriage house, now the garage. She put her hand on the door handle just as the lights exploded behind her eyes. Her ears never registered the solid ‘thump’ of the gun butt as it caught her directly behind the ear. Her hand slid off the handle. She slumped, unconscious, to the concrete floor.

  Justin Dinardo bent over. He laughed softly as he plucked the car keys from her hand. He’d driven into Macon for the past few afternoons, parking his stolen, ratty car up on College Street and walking down to crouch in the corner of the garage. Just in case. But good things came to those who waited. Sooner or later.

  He opened the trunk and walked back to Ria. He picked her up and dumped her unceremoniously into the small space. He carelessly bent her arms and legs, folding her into a small enough package so he could close the trunk. He slammed the lid down and frowned. ’65 Mustangs didn’t have a
lot of trunk room. He didn’t care if she suffocated but his master wouldn’t be happy if the cunt was dead.

  He shrugged. It was a forty-five mile drive. If the air got stale, she’d stay unconscious. He settled behind the wheel and ran his hand over the leather interior. He caressed the gear shift.

  Hell of a car. The speedometer was calibrated to 120 mph, just like all the old cars with V-8 engines. Shame to waste a car like this on the Knight bitch. Bet she’d never gotten it past eighty. And he couldn’t either. Not this afternoon. Wouldn’t do to get pulled over. Not at all.

  He laughed suddenly and turned the ignition. The motor purred and he shifted into reverse, backed out of the garage, and headed towards the Gray Highway.

  Paul buzzed the intercom at six o’clock. He’d materialized on College Street tonight and walked down, as much for the pleasure of the crisp December air as for appearances sake. Everyone thought he rented one of the College Street apartments.

  No answer. He glanced in the window. The foyer lamp was burning but the law firm’s secretary Katie was gone because the main windows of her office reception room were dark. Ria must have had something out of the office running longer than she expected. If not, she’d be here. She was looking forward to the little party. Ria looked forward to everything these days. And he had to admit he did, too.

  He buzzed Johnny’s intercom as a courtesy, even though he had a key to the door—that appearance thing again. Johnny didn’t answer either and it wouldn’t do to dematerialize in full view on the front porch.

  He had the key in the lock and was just about to turn the tumbler when Johnny drove his little sports car, hell-bent for leather, down the driveway and tooted his horn in greeting. Paul stood in front of the door and waited for him.

  “Hey, man! What’s the matter, key don’t work?”

  “Just got here myself when you pulled in. Happen to know where Ria is?”

  “Yeah, but I’m surprised she didn’t beat me back. She was going over to the LEC around three on some new appointed cases. She ought to be here.” Johnny grinned. “Ria doesn’t much like to linger around the LEC.”

  “I know.”

  “Well, come on in. We’ll see if she called or something. If she didn’t, she’s probably on her way now.”

  Johnny unlocked the door to the reception room and strode to Katie’s desk, grabbing the pink slips from the message slots.

  “Call your mom,” he muttered to himself. “Call Karen in the DA’s Office. Pre-trial on Harris set for two next Friday. Shit! I wanted to leave early next Friday, my folks are going to the beach. Well, that’s all mine, let’s see what’s in Ria’s. Hmmm. Call your mom. Our mothers, I swear. Sometimes I feel like I still live at home. Another appointed case. Shit! You’d think we were the only two lawyers in Macon on the damn list! And Dennis says they’re running late, be here at six-forty-five. That’s it. Did you check your cell phone?”

  “Didn’t have a chance. Let’s see.” Paul pulled his phone out and checked. “Nope, nothing.”

  “Well, she didn’t try me, either, I just checked my phone. No voicemail, no missed calls. Let’s see where she is.” Johnny hit her cell number and the call went straight to voice mail.

  “She’d have her phone off in the LEC. Might have forgotten to turn it back on, I do that all the time. She’s probably on the way, though.”

  “I’m sure she is. Let’s go on up, I’ll check the kitchen out.”

  Johnny sniffed the air all the way up the stairs.

  “Damn, that ham smells good. Just like Christmas.”

  “C’mon over when you’re ready,” Paul said. “I’ll go organize.”

  Paul flipped on the light switches and crossed to the kitchen. He was a better cook than Ria was anyway. No reason for dinner to be delayed.

  Dennis and Lori arrived earlier than expected in spite of the message to the contrary they’d be late.

  “We hurried so much not be any later than we thought we’d be, we’re early,” Dennis explained. They settled on two of the bar stools at Ria’s kitchen counter and watched Paul move around the kitchen.

  “Where’d you say Ria was?” Dennis asked.

  “LEC. I call it the jail,” Paul laughed. “And if she isn’t here in just a few more minutes, I think Johnny needs to call down there and see if we can track her down.”

  “You know, if it weren’t for Ria, I’d probably be there myself tonight. In some jail somewhere, anyway.” Dennis shook his head. “Man, I just can’t believe I was ever that stupid!”

  “You learned a hard lesson this year, Dennis. Ria’s real proud of you.”

  “Yeah, and that bothers me a little.”

  “It does? Why?”

  “’Cause I don’t think I really deserve it. I mean, I didn’t do anything about Justin until I absolutely had to and I never would’ve had the guts to break away from him at all if it hadn’t been for—” Dennis broke off abruptly.

  “Oh, c’mon, Dennis!” Lori exclaimed. “You always say you’ll tell me what happened that night but you never do! You always stop short like you don’t want to think about it!”

  “I don’t,” he said shortly.

  “I didn’t know anything in particular happened, Dennis,” Paul said, glancing at the clock. He’d give her five more minutes and then some calls were starting.

  “Neither does Ria. But it did. And if I’d told her about it, she’d have thought I was on something myself.”

  “Maybe you ought to go ahead and get it off your chest, Dennis.” The boy looked as though he needed to tell, no matter how much he’d rather not.

  “You’d think I was crazy. But you might be able to put it to use. What are you writing, Paul? Is it a horror novel?”

  That cover story of his might present future problems. Eventually, someone was going to expect to see some actual product. Ria’d damn near written a book, though, when she’d transcribed his story for her father. Maybe he’d borrow that. And it was sure as hell a horror novel.

  “Sort of. Why?”

  “’Cause you could probably work it in there somewhere. Damn sure the most horrifying thing ever happened to me.”

  “And with that kind of build-up, you’re still fartin’ around about it!” Lori exclaimed. “Not fair. Now give!”

  “Well, it happened out there where we stashed the stuff. Out by Stone Creek Swamp.”

  Tingles like icy water dripped down the back of Paul’s neck and ran down his spine.

  “There was this cave, sort of, you see,” Dennis said. “All covered over with rocks.” His words tumbled out, faster and faster. He described everything. The stake, the dancing particles of dust settling over the moldering bones.

  “And while we were tearing down the path, I swear I don’t know how in the hell I didn’t roll that damn dirt bike, or crash into a tree, I swear I don’t, I heard it. This voice, this goddamn roar. It came from everywhere and the woods stood still. I mean, everything stood still. Nothing else moved. Nothing else made a sound! And it shouted, ‘I’m aliiiiiive!’ Except it didn’t sound like that, it just kept echoing! Over and over, on and on and on.”

  Dennis finally stopped and looked at his audience.

  “Paul?”

  Paul attempted to speak and couldn’t. He cleared his throat and tried again.

  “And Justin? You noticed he started getting worse? Right after this?”

  “Yeah. I ain’t defending what we were doing, Paul, honest to God, I’m not, but before then Justin didn’t go around terrorizing girls and leaving dead rats in their lockers and all that sort of shit. I always knew something was off with Justin and deep down, I got to admit I was always scared of him somehow, but after that night, man, shit! He said the next day that it was all our imagination but it’s like, it made me wake up. And it turned him into a nightmare that didn’t stop. Paul? Where are you going?”

  Paul headed to the door.

  “I think Johnny needs to call the LEC. He knows who to talk to.”

&nb
sp; Johnny stood in the door when Paul opened, just about to knock.

  “Man, that smell’s killing me!” he exclaimed, as Paul opened the door. “Ria, I didn’t know you could cook like this!”

  He glanced around the room.

  “She still not home?”

  “No. You know who to call, Johnny, do you mind?”

  “Hell, no,” Johnny said, whipping out his phone. “Desk, please.” He put his hand over the mouthpiece. “This really is taking her too long. Deputy Graves? Oh, good, guys!” He stated to the room at large. “I got one of the big boys on the phone.” Johnny knew how to get service. “Mike, this is Johnny Bishop. My law partner seems to have misplaced herself this evening, do you think you could run her down over there for me? She hasn’t? At all?”

  Johnny’s tone changed abruptly.

  “And you’re sure? I see. Thanks, Mike.”

  He hung up the phone and bit his lip.

  “She hasn’t been there. At all. He ran down the whole day’s sign-in sheet to be sure.”

  Paul started for the door.

  “Paul, wait! Maybe something else came up and she had to change plans. Let me ask Katie.”

  Johnny hit another number and pushed the speaker button so everyone could hear.

  “Katie? Sorry to bother you but where’d Ria go this afternoon?”

  “The LEC. You know that.”

  Johnny grimaced. “What time did she leave?

  “Three or so. Like she told you was goin’ to do.”

  “Oh. Well, thanks, Katie.”

  “Johnny! Wait! Don’t you hang up this phone! What’s the matter and something is or you wouldn’t be calling!” Katie’s voice came in over the noise of her toddler’s rendition of ‘Jingle Bells’.