Chapter 59
Doug went through his days in self-imposed punishment. His life had become an endless regimen of emotional anguish and physical torment. He needed to be strong if he was going to win the fight against evil, realizing that evil was exactly what he was up against.
The weeks saw Doug’s physical condition improve dramatically. The strict routine of exercise he’d set for himself began as torture, but after several weeks the punishment eased and the exertion began to bear fruit. His body was returning to its pre-trauma days of rock-hard abs, of bulging biceps and steel-cord legs. He got up at five-thirty each morning and took an hour-long run around the grounds. There was a well-beaten path that covered several miles, traversing woods and fields. Evidently the owners of the estate—whoever they were—(strangely Doug could find no evidence of them inside the house) were health conscious individuals, and had put a considerable amount of effort into cutting the trails and seeing to their proper grooming. In the beginning Lucy ran with him, showing him what trails he could use and which ones he should avoid, but she soon tired of the routine and left him to his own devices.
After several weeks of following the same route, Doug became bored with it. Ignoring Lucy’s warnings, he began to alter his route, cutting away from the main trail and onto some smaller, less-traveled routes. This allowed him to explore the estate a little more thoroughly. There was much to see. Summer in the Kentucky countryside saw a riot of flora. The mellow greens of summer had begun to morph into the deeper shades of the coming fall. It took nearly two weeks for Doug to explore the estate thoroughly and understand the lay of the land; where roads intersected and other estates lay in proximity to theirs.
One morning he passed a place in the trail that felt different, and he stopped abruptly. He wasn’t exactly sure why it felt different, but there was something about it that bothered him. He stood very still, allowing his heart and his respiration to settle down. This wasn’t the first time he’d sensed something odd about this particular spot, but it was the first time he’d actually stopped to investigate why. He looked around him. To his left there were stands of alder, cottonwoods and scrub pine making their way upward to the crest of a small hill. Beyond that Doug could see a series of larger, rolling hills with rounded tops. Immediately to his right there was a stand of deep dark woods that looked like old growth. These were mostly hardwoods; a mixture of cherry, walnut, oak and chestnut. He stood looking into the woods. His heart had settled down and he took a deep breath and held it. The world was silent. He realized suddenly that this was the problem. There was no noise here; none at all. Everywhere he went it seemed birds were plentiful and their joyous song filled the air. But not here. Here there was no noise at all. No birds, no insects or peeping frogs, and barely a breeze to stir the leaves in the trees above him.
A thought struck him like a lance, or perhaps it wasn’t a thought at all, but an inspiration; perhaps even a voice. And the moment it happened, forgotten memories came flooding back to him with a vengeance. Please, you need to find me.
Doug stood frozen. “Ariel?” he said, barely able to breathe. After all this time her voice had returned. One of the last times he’d heard the voice he’d dreamed that Ariel was his daughter. Crazy, but it was true. He remembered that she had taken him by the hand and told him that everything was going to be all right. “Where are you, Ariel?” Doug said, feeling a sudden and nearly desperate love for the lost little girl.
There was no response.
Of course there’s no response, you idiot. The voice is in your mind. It always has been. But deep down Doug believed otherwise. He’d heard the voices of lost children before, Ariel’s included, and he understood that they were real, and that they came from some place beyond the realm of the rational. Feeling sudden heat on his chest, he reached into his collar and quickly brought out the artifact, holding it in his hand. It was glowing intensely, nearly hot enough to burn his flesh, its surface pulsing, shifting, like a snake beneath shedding skin. A sudden slice of intense pain in Doug’s hand caused him to release the object. He grabbed the chain holding the artifact out away from his chest. Blood poured from his wound, trailed down the chain and dripped to the ground. “Holy crap,” Doug breathed. The object had changed shape so suddenly that he hadn’t had time to react. It had morphed from a time-worn fragment of inert bronze to something beautiful yet patently menacing. The artifact was now a fully-formed golden spearhead with razor sharp edges. He realized suddenly that what he’d seen at Rachael De Roché s funeral had been no illusion.
Doug’s eyes shifted from the object, back to the dark forest and again back to the object. “What’s going on?” he said, as if to the object. “Why is this happening? Why am I feeling this way?”
It is time for you to go, Ariel’s voice answered inside his head. It is time for you to save me.
Doug froze. “Who are you, Ariel? How do you know me?”
I’ve always known you. You’re part of me and I’m part of you.
“How is that possible?”
You were chosen to guide me. You are my father and I am your daughter.
Doug stood very still. “I don’t understand how that could be,” he said. “I have no children.”
You will, and soon. But beware, for you are about to be betrayed.
A sudden and nearly deafening noise caused Doug to recoil in fear, his heart pumping adrenaline through his system. From out of the forest to his left ran a herd of giant stags, their frantically beating hoofs pounding the earth like thunder, antlers clacking together audibly, bulging eyes swirling in panic. A rag-tag flock of disheveled black birds flew like macabre guardians above the panicked herd, and Doug recognized their leader as the creature with the single red eye. Doug leapt out of their path just as the herd came crashing across the trail. He went down, sprawling face first as the animals shot past him, their beating hooves sending up clouds of dust and forest debris.
Doug got to his feet as their noise receded into the forest. He spun, taking in his entire circumference. But the stags and the birds were gone.
He’d forgotten about the object. He’d left it dangling outside his shirt. A quick moment of panic seized him. He was suddenly sure that it was gone. But he was wrong. It hung there on its chain, now just a cold and unglamorous old relic, stained with the blood of his hand. He stared at it for a long moment before tucking it back beneath his collar.
A voice inside his head said: It cannot truly be yours until it has been baptized in your blood. Guard it well until the time comes for you to pass it to the child.
Doug recognized the voice as belonging to the Collector. But how could that be? The Collector was a murderer and a destroyer. He had taken everything good from him. Was this just another of the monster’s tricks?
Doug waited in frustration for some sort of explanation. When it did not come, he brushed himself off and headed back to the house.
Chapter 60
He did not mention the incident to Lucy.
It is time for you to go. It is time for you to save me.
The voice was becoming stronger and more urgent. Doug knew that it would not be long before he made his escape. He wasn’t a prisoner exactly; he was free to go whenever he wished, or so Lucy had professed on that day in the hospital weeks ago following his return to consciousness. Even so, he sometimes felt like a prisoner. Lucy was a strong force in this new life of his and he sensed that she was enjoying her control over him. Doug soon began to realize, however, that in most cases the worst prisons were those imposed upon oneself.
In recent days his relationship with Lucy had become increasingly disjointed, the atmosphere cool and uncomfortable. There were a number of reasons for the change, he surmised: his sense that Lucy was aware of his eagerness to be away from this place, for one thing; his belief that Lucy wasn’t being entirely honest with him for another; and yes, a sort of sexual tension had been building between them that made Doug uncomfortable. Recently she’d been careless, leaving her
hand-washed undergarments drying on racks in the bathroom as if in invitation, and at night going from her bedroom to the kitchen wearing only a filmy nightgown. How much did she think a man could endure? It occurred to Doug on more than one occasion that perhaps these incidents weren’t carelessness at all but something more contrived.
Doug was a vital man in his prime and his needs were powerful. Lucy was a beautiful woman and Doug found that his dreams were increasingly populated with images of her, naked and alluring; of the two of them coupled together as desperate lovers. Whenever these dreams intruded Doug would wake feeling shame, as though through his dreams he was somehow betraying Annie.
In the days that followed he found himself avoiding Lucy whenever possible; when he wasn’t working out he passed the time in the estate’s library reading or in his bedroom with the door closed. This brought on an uncomfortable tension between them that made Doug feel terrible. Lucy had sacrificed so much for his well being. He certainly owed her something. She was kind and intelligent, and he knew that she was keenly aware of the distance he was putting between them. But even as Doug resisted an emotional attachment he knew deep down that he was fighting a losing battle. So the only solution he could come up with was the one he knew would be best for them both. He needed to leave this place, and soon.
It was night and he was in the library pursuing the pages of a book he wasn’t much interested in as all of these thoughts intruded. Would he tell Lucy he was leaving or just disappear? He decided that leaving without telling her would be cowardly. She would understand. She knew better than anyone that he had to go. Once he left he knew he could not go directly to Annie or even try to contact her. That would invite more grief than he needed. If De Roché found out he was alive he wouldn’t have a chance. And there were others hunting him; the government; rogue agents of the Order; God knows who else. If he went to the police and tried to explain his situation, they’d turn him over to higher authorities and he’d disappear into a black hole. Every law enforcement agency in the country was hunting him. They thought he was a terrorist. They believed he’d brought down an airliner full of people. No, he needed a creative solution. He needed someone he could trust, and that someone was his best friend in the world, the man who had helped to raise him to adulthood. Strangely, this house did not contain a telephone or a computer with an internet connection. He had to get out of here and find one fast. It was time to contact Jennings.
It is time for you to go. It is time for you to save me.
Chapter 61
In the midst of these thoughts the library door opened and Lucy entered carrying a tray with two cups and a teapot.
“Thought you might like some tea before bed,” she said.
Doug was clearly agitated at the interruption of his thoughts. “No thanks,” he said.
Lucy stopped short, staring at Doug as her face fell. “You mean I went to all this bother for nothing?” She feigned exasperation then smiled. “Just kidding. Sorry I bothered you.” She observed the book in his lap, gave a small astute nod and headed for the door.
“Wait,” Doug said, sensing it was a mistake. Lucy stopped and turned around. “Please stay,” he said, closing the book and placing it back on the shelf. “Tea sounds good.”
Lucy set the tray down onto the library table. She hesitated. “Listen, I don’t have to . . . “
“Really, it’s okay,” he said. “Sorry I’ve been such a jerk lately.”
Lucy poured two cups of the steaming amber liquid. She and Doug sat side by side on the sofa. Doug picked up his cup and sipped the hot liquid, his eyes distant and unfocussed.
“You’ve made a decision, haven’t you?” Lucy said.
“You know I have to go,” Doug said.
Lucy nodded. “Of course.”
“I’m sorry, Lucy.”
“Don’t be.”
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. It seems to me that you’ve accomplished everything here that you set out to accomplish. You brought me back from the dead. You fed me and cared for me and made me strong again. I don’t know if I can ever repay you for all that.”
“No need,” Lucy said. Her eyes were downcast.
“Tell me again why you risked your life to help me.”
“Because I believed you were worth helping. Because I honestly believe you were chosen. For what, I’m not entirely certain. I’m not entirely certain the Order knows exactly.”
“But you said—”
“I know what I said. I told you everything about them, their history, their beliefs, their hopes for the future. But there’s still so much that isn’t known.”
“Where does that leave you?” Doug said. “What was it all for?”
Lucy’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m a little confused right now,” she said. “I’m not sure I can ever go back. I broke a lot of rules. Maybe there’s a chance for you. Maybe now you can do whatever it is you were meant to do; save your wife and child, save the world. I don’t know. The odds seem enormous. But I have faith in you. I know that whatever you’re meant for you’ll succeed.”
“I’m not quite so sure.”
“You will. Trust me.”
“What about you, Lucy?”
“Truth is, I feel sort of lost. You still have the love of your life. I have nothing.”
“Lucy?”
“What?”
“Is there anything else I need to know? Is there something you haven’t told me?” He stared at the woman and again his head and heart both filled with an overwhelming sense of melancholy, as if by leaving he was somehow betraying an unspoken promise. Why did he feel such a strong attachment to this woman and at the same time such a keen distrust of her?
Lucy’s eyes were downcast. “No,” she said. “I’ve told you everything.”
“I’m not sure I believe that,” Doug said. “The moment I saw you I felt this strange familiarity. Like I knew you. Not because of the way you looked. I was sure I’d never seen you before.” He paused shaking his head in confusion. “Just the same, there are things about you that are familiar; your voice, the way you move. The way you act around me. Tell me something, how did you get assigned the job of protecting me? Why you, of all the people in the Order?”
Lucy was silent for a long moment staring at Doug. Finally she heaved a deep sigh and said, “Because I asked for the assignment.”
“Why?”
Another long moment of silence followed as Doug felt the walls come crashing down around him.
“Because I was in love with you,” Lucy said. “Because I’ve always been in love with you.”
Chapter 62
It was nearing the end for Joe Remy. Don Savage had told him that as soon as the old man found another dog handler he was out. The incident on the night the woman was killed had been the last straw. You only screwed up once with De Roché and after that you were history.
Remy wasn’t going to go quietly, though. He was aware of the rituals that involved that creepy old house on the back property. He was aware of the entity that roamed the grounds at night, and he thought he knew where the entity lived. His parting shot to the old man would be legendary. He knew about the old man’s presidential aspirations and he wasn’t about to just walk away without a fight.
Over the course of the past couple of months he had been planning his strategy. Remy had been more than a dog handler in the military; he’d also been a demolitions expert. He knew a lot about plastic explosive and how to set shaped charges for the maximum amount of effect.
He’d been stockpiling for quite some time, and very carefully, under the cover of darkness, he’d been wiring that old house to blow. This was the night that place would go boom, and hopefully, along with it, the evil presence that occupied it. But first he would make the call to the FBI, and then he would just stand back and watch.
Chapter 63
Doug moved over close to Annie and kissed her on the mouth. “Hey there, sweet cheeks,” he said and gave her that winning smile of h
is. Annie was totally blown away to see him, even more blown away that they were in bed together. It seemed like it had been such a long . . . long . . . time . . .
No!
This was all wrong.
Something had happened but she could not remember what.
Something terrible . . .
. . . that made her feel all weepy and lost.
Annie rose out of her drugged sleep as if she was being dragged up from the depths of a lake. She resisted consciousness. She did not want this dream to end.
Let me drown! Just don’t take Doug away from me again.
Annie . . .? Annie . . .?
Someone was calling her name, but it wasn’t Doug.
Who then?
Annie?
Oh God, no, it can’t be. Is that you, mama?
Yes, it’s me, Annie.
Go away.
Annie, please, you have got to listen to me—
No, mama, I don’t have to do anything. You’re dead and I need to put you to rest. Please go away. I want Doug, not you.
You need to see the truth, Annie.
What happened to me in this room, mama? Why can’t I remember?
You’re not supposed to remember, Annie. Some things are too terrible to remember. I’m so sorry for everything that happened.
I’m sorry too, mama.
You don’t have to be sorry, Annie. You did nothing wrong. Now you must listen to me before it’s too late. You cannot stay here. You’re in danger. Your father can no longer protect you or the baby.
Soul Thief (Blue Light Series) Page 38