by Zeller, Jill
“She’s taking a nap. I don’t want to disturb her.”
His eyes narrowed. Zoe never napped. If she were to lay down anywhere, it was with a book and she wouldn’t get up until she was done with it. “You’re keeping her away from me. Think it’s too distressing or something.” He grabbed one arm in his distinctive Jonah-pose. “She sure had a good time when you brought her to the City, I thought.”
Zoe did have a good time. She loved talking to her dad. My heart flooded, drowned. How was I going to survive this?
Sawyer tapped on the door. “Annie? You OK?”
“Coming,” I said. Jonah looked at me. It was hard to read his expression.
“That Sawyer. He’s a good guy. Better than I ever was.”
Nodding, I touched my lips, then the mirror. Jonah smiled crookedly and faded away in clouds of blue mist.
When I came out the day was fading, a hot red tone to everything, odors of grilling and dead grass. The sun bleached the sky of anything blue and turned it yellow. Agnes/Libra floated in the pool; I had loaned her one of Ivy’s bathing suits. She didn’t mind staying here with us at all. She even made us a sort of supper: lettuce from a bag, ill-cut tomatoes, chunks of cheddar, all drenched in bleu cheese dressing. It was delicious.
Sawyer looked up from his laptop as I came out to the patio. “It’s up. The confession of Jeff Nash. 500 hits and growing.”
Nodding, I checked my phone. No messages. I called the hospital, they said Bruce was resting comfortably. He’d had a visitor or two, friends from school. Word traveled fast in the burgh of Quantum City.
Getting out of the pool, Agnes came over to see what we were reading. Getting her cell phone, she settled on the edge of the pool to read the story for herself. I hoped this news would take steam out of the Friends of the Dead, but I doubted it.
“What about Mae’s diary? Did you have a chance to read it?” I whispered, watching Agnes, who seemed completely involved with her cell phone.
Sawyer closed his laptop. “I did.” He looked across the yard at the row of pines, tips burnished gold from the setting sun.
“And?”
He looked at me for a long moment. Then, as he was about to speak, my cell phone rang, Dominique sending me a message.
Midnight. The old VA hospital portal. Don’t be late.
Sawyer looked at me curiously. “From Ivy?”
I shook my head. “Just an ad from some stupid company.”
My stomach swirled down into my feet. My only consolation was imagining the completion of my strangulation of Dominique Delphine.
Getting up, I walked onto the lawn, stood barefoot in the cooling Bermuda grass. I needed a plan. I could feel Sawyer’s gaze on me as I stood with my back to him. What sort of excuse would I give him about leaving yet again.
“I just thought of something.” Approaching Sawyer, I tried to look excited, when all I felt was sickened. “She might be at our old house. She—likes to go there, and Zoe would get a kick out of it.”
“OK.” Getting up, Sawyer tucked his laptop under his arm. “Let’s go.”
Damn. That backfired. But I couldn’t bring myself to make him wait here while I went to hell. “What about Agnes? Shouldn’t you stay here?”
“Where we going?” Agnes, who had at some point gone inside and changed, reappeared in the slider opening. She must be bored beyond reason if she really wanted to go with two despised adults like her father and me.
I felt helpless to argue. What I would do with them when we got there was beyond me. Running into the house for another fleece jacket, they both looked at me curiously. The valley was muggy and hot. There would be no need for a jacket of any kind.
When we arrived at the old house, dusk had fallen heavily, raised up shadows and silence. The air smelled of rising damp, and as we entered the house through the still unsecured back door, the musky odors of mold filled our nostrils.
I had hoped for several impossible things. That by some irrational coincidence, Ivy and Zoe would indeed be there and my conversation with Dominique was some hunger-induced nightmare. That Sawyer and Agnes would without argument agree to stay in the car. That the guardians were still absent.
None of these came true.
The first hint of trouble was the smell of smoke. Not wood smoke, but the smoldering-plastic smell of crank. Sawyer, remembering Mark and Maddy, grabbed my arm as we went through the kitchen. Turning, he told Agnes to wait in the car. Stubbornly she shook her head. As he began to argue with her, I crept down the hallway and looked into the living room.
The two of them sat huddled around a Sterno camp stove, heating an unthinkable something or other. Maddy wore a colorful woven cap and Mark’s oily hair hung over his face. They were both bundled in heavy coats, in spite of the stifling heat.
Turning back, I got Sawyer’s attention. To my dismay, Agnes was still with us, thoroughly enjoying the possibility of exploring the empty house on a summer’s night. Motioning them to follow me, I pressed my finger to my lips and walked as silently as I could to the basement door under the stairs.
We almost made it through before they heard us. Agnes, wearing flip flops, tripped on something in the dark.
“Go!” I pushed her toward the stairs, Sawyer following, gripping a weapon like a table leg or a baseball bat in his hand. I went last.
Maddy and Mark were not at their best tonight. We made it easily into the fallout shelter and got the door bolted. These two were pretty useless as guardians, I thought. Perhaps this is considered a lesser portal for some reason.
It was completely dark inside the shelter. I hadn’t thought to bring a flashlight. Stupid, considering there probably wouldn’t be time to get one from home before I was to meet Dominique and I didn’t know the old VA hospital ruins very well.
Agnes almost giggled, but was able to stop herself. “What were they? Ghosts? Actual ghosts?”
“No. Just meth-heads squatting here.” This from Sawyer.
Both wrong. “Listen, the two of you. Something strange is about to happen. Just stay with me, OK?”
I couldn’t see a reaction, but I heard Agnes’s earrings jingle as she nodded her head—at least I hoped she was nodding.
It was crazy to bring them here. But now that it was done I couldn’t leave them inside and tell them to wait for me. Or could I?
“Listen. I know another way out. But you have to trust me. I have to make sure it’s still OK to use. That means you’re going to have to wait for me here.”
Plan B was unraveled by the unmistakeable snick of the heavy fallout shelter door being unlocked. How could they do that? I was really in a trap now and the only way out for the three of us was the door into Hell.
“Follow me,” I whispered, as the door creaked open behind us. The green sliver of light appeared, the portal widened. As soon as it was wide enough I was through, turned, and saw Agnes, followed closely by Sawyer, come after me.
The portal whisked shut, making a sighing sound, almost human. Instantly I was aware of the presence of wraiths, dozens of them, attracted to the portal opening, or waiting for it to open. I doubted any had gotten out, though.
Sawyer looked around, awe on his face; I saw his lips thin as he realized that he had not been dreaming about a tunnel, as I tried to convince him when Ivy and I got him out of the Novak house the last time.
“Oh. My. God.” Agnes folded her arms around her. “It’s freezing in here.”
“Sorry,” I said to Sawyer. “I’ll explain later. Right now, we have a long walk ahead of us.”
Shrugging, Sawyer gave me no response.
“OK,” said Agnes, rubbing her arms. “As long as it’s to some place warmer.”
I didn’t answer. I hoped I could find the way into the Land of the Dead and Phantom City, and wouldn’t take a wrong turn into Hell, where things might really heat up.
“You think Zoe is down here?” Sawyer’s voice sounded distant and flat. There was no echo. He sounded to me as if I had cotton stuffe
d in my ears.
I nodded. “A hunch.”
“I never knew about these tunnels. This is so cool!” Agnes stared at her cell phone. “Damn, no bars.”
Both Sawyer and I ignored her. Sawyer kept glancing at me as we followed the tunnel at the level. I remembered an intersection, where the tube to the Sanatorium, and probably the VA, went off to the southwest. At least I thought the direction we were going was generally north. But what if I had brought my friend and his daughter into an endless maze and we never got out and Zoe was killed.
I pushed my hand across my forehead. This kind of thinking must stop.
Then, as if my mind blew clear of all foggy and desperate considerations, Jonah appeared before me. Sawyer and Agnes skidded to a halt. It would have been cartoonish if I wasn’t so relieved to see the ghost of my ex.
But maybe it wasn’t a relief. Jonah looked very, very angry. “Why didn’t you tell me Zoe was kidnapped?” Now there was an echo, and it slammed back and forth through my head like a racquet ball. His face glowed greenly in the light of the wall sconces. At least he looked solid, like a real person, and not a ghost. Taking this advantage of his appearance, I introduced him to Sawyer and Agnes, who, stunned into silence, stared at both of us, Sawyer’s face rigored with irritation, Agnes wide-eyed amazement.
Inhaling, I spoke, using my Nurse voice. “We don’t know if she is kidnapped. I am on my way to see Dad.”
Jonah’s eyebrows drew together, causing a deep vertical wrinkle in his forehead. “Are you kidding? With these as helpers?”
“Well, Jonah, Bruce had an accident, and Pepper—” My throat threatened to close again. A coal of grief burned inside me, never to be quenched until I found my daughter. But every time I said Pepper’s name I became a blubbering idiot.
“What? What about Pepper?” Jonah shook his head, as if I had just spoken Swahili.
Sawyer took a step forward, keeping Agnes behind him. “Just a minute, Jonah whatever your name is. Calm down. If I’m going to be a helper, whatever the fuck that is, then you need to tell me what is going on.” He flashed me an impatient look. “Both of you.”
Jonah’s eyes widened as he gazed at me, realizing my situation. But to my undying relief he didn’t speak.
I had to speak the truth. Even if Sawyer thought I was delusional and Agnes believed I had gone insane. But she stared at Jonah, even gave him a smile when his gaze swept over her. My god, I thought, she thinks he’s cute.
“Walk with me.” I started down the tunnel, Sawyer at my side, Agnes trailing behind with Jonah.
I told them everything. Bijou, wraiths—for Agnes’s sake I didn’t name the queen of the Bijou cartel, Dominique Delphine.
A silence followed, the only sound our breaths filling the tunnel. Sawyer wouldn’t look at me, and I wished he would, but there was something so much larger at stake than our friendship. At least I told myself so. He had to understand that I had no choice but to do whatever I could, short of dying, to save Zoe.
We walked. Even Agnes, if she had heard any of it, said nothing.
My heart turned to lead inside me, threatened to spread the heaviness throughout my body. I wanted to collapse, curl into a catatonic ball. But I had to keep going. And I had to hurry.
Wraiths enveloped us. Jonah and I were the only ones who sensed them. It was exhausting, pushing through them, trying to ignore the scratchy cold and icy feel of them against my exposed cheek or legs.
After endless icy silence from Sawyer, intermittent complaints about the cold from Agnes, we came to a bifurcation. Two tunnels before us, right and left. I knew, I thought, where the left one led. I stopped. I Looked back at Jonah, who glanced toward the right tunnel and nodded.
Sawyer stood, arms folded around him against the cold, staring at the wall sconce between the two openings. Through each, I could see a green distance, fading to black. The silence rang in my ears. I knew I had to tell them my decision. There was no time to lose.
I opened my mouth, drew a breath, and froze. Sawyer looked at me, eyes wide. So I wasn’t imagining it.
There is was again, unmistakeable. The bark of a dog. Far down the left-hand tunnel.
My heart skipped ahead several beats. Sweat burned on my forehead. Agnes, who knew Bruce had nearly been killed by a dog, moved close to her father and gripped his arm. Could the guardians have been replaced? Would one of them have survived?
My plan shattered, and dread filled me. I would have to take the right-handed tunnel, as planned, but I would have to take Sawyer and Agnes with me.
The barking was louder now. I could only distinguish one dog. It seemed odd that the guardian would be so far from the Sanatorium portal, which I knew was several hundred yards away.
“Annie, let’s get out of here.” Sawyer moved toward the left hand tunnel, pulling Agnes with him.
Watching him bravely enter a place of which he had no concept, except what he might have absorbed from my crazy story about Phantom City, I realized how much I loved him. More than a friend. So much more.
Standing at the entry to the left hand tunnel, Jonah stared into the green mist. The barking was indeed growing nearer, as if the beast was coming toward us at full speed.
“Annie, come on!” Sawyer urged me from a few feet into the tunnel.
I couldn’t move. Something seized my muscles and held me to this one spot, as if spikes had sprung from the bottom of my shoes and driven into the earth.
“Wait.” Jonah whispered, holding out a hand in a sign to keep me back.
“We have to get out of here.” Sawyer too had lowered his voice, but I heard his fear. I too was afraid. But also not of the same thing he was.
Barking, deep-throated. Guardians wouldn’t bark like this. Growl, maybe, or silent but deadly.
Jonah and I understood at the same time. We stared at each other, and joy filled me, joy infused with hope. The barks echoed into my head fiercely, like Jonah’s voice when he had yelled at me about Zoe.
“Annie!” Sawyer spat my name. I waved him to silence, but I couldn’t keep myself from smiling. His eyebrows drew down in confusion.
The next moment he understood why I was so happy. Pepper bounded into sight, bowled into me and Jonah, wriggled and bounced like a 150 pound puppy. Her right ear was crushed with scars and blood, lacerations laced her left front leg, lip, and chest, but she was full of energy and joy.
I knelt, held her, tears running down my cheeks and into her fur. “You won, girl. You won.”
“Whoa,” from Sawyer. “She’s alive?” He reached down, gingerly patted her head.
Nodding, I stood up, Pepper leaning against me, panting. Now I knew what I had to do. Time for Nurse Voice again. “Jonah, take Sawyer and Agnes to the Sanatorium. It’s safe now. Pepper and I will continue to Phantom City.”
Sawyer looked a little stricken. I could understand his dilemma, and his unhappiness with the choice he would undoubtedly make. I stood looking at him, uneasy, wondering what he really thought of me now. I wanted to ask him. I wanted to kiss him again. But there was no time.
Without a word, he motioned to Agnes, and they started into the left hand tunnel, Agnes gazing at Jonah in an worryingly frank way for a fourteen-year-old. Jonah caught my arm. He smelt of cigarettes and leather, a smell that always caught me up in memory.
“Are you sure? What about the river?”
“I’ll figure something out. Jonah, try to find me, when you come back. But first, try to contact Zoe. Make sure she’s all right. Tell her I’m coming to get her and Aunt Ivy.”
Nodding, Jonah looked like he’d been to Hell and back. “I love you, Annie. I always have, always will.”
Words he rarely said when he was alive. And here below the earth, he looked so alive, and real. Sawyer watched us from the tunnel entrance, a shadow over his face. I couldn’t read his expression, but I gave him a sad smile, anyway. A moment later, they were gone, and I had no time to lose.
Waiting until their footsteps faded into nothing, I
held Pepper’s collar and ordered my mind, seeing myself in Dad’s phantom lab. When I had raced headlong into the tunnels, dragging two innocent live humans with me, I had not even considered how I would get to Phantom City. But alone now, with Pepper, I wanted to try something I had never tried before.
I pictured my father in his lab coat, standing beside the amber ampules of rainbow souls. The rush of ebony forest, decaying leaves and muck, taste of rot and soil stole my breath. Pushing down the panic, allowing chills to finger me everywhere, I gripped Pepper’s collar. Death curled around us like a friendly cat.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Hell’s Laboratory
Gasping, I reached up to wipe the burial dirt from my mouth, but my skin was clean and smooth. Colors swirled in my mind’s eye, dizzying, and I opened them to see a bright square of sunlight. It burned into me, and I blinked. I could see hoary branches and smell the reek of decay, and I was standing in a small room, Pepper obediently beside me, looking through a door with a half-glass window.
In a corridor outside, a shape moved from right to left—someone walking. Beyond, through the glass, I saw another room, narrow, stretching to the sunlight square, where thinly-leaved branches of a shrub wavered in a breeze. Benches, beakers, test-tubes glinted in sunlight streaming in; a climbing plant crawled up the glass, beside a terrarium of flesh-eating plants.
My father’s lab. I had been here before, as a small child. But it looked so different from the one I saw in Phantom City, staged as if to receive visitors who wanted to see Bijou.
Queasiness washed through me. Not again. Another time anomaly. Differences came at me, the climbing houseplant was smaller, and so was the terrarium. What year would this be, some time before my childhood visit? I was afraid of the Venus flytrap, afraid it would reach out from its glass world and swallow me.
Around me the hum of refrigerators, freezers. Then, voices. Urgent, thin and distant, as if over an old telephone line. A figure appeared in my father’s lab across the corridor, then another, silhouetted against the sunlight. My father, tall and gaunt, his muff of unruly hair falling over his forehead. Opposite, someone smaller, female, a veil of long hair making her look as if she were wearing a hood.