by P. G. Forte
He shook back his regrets and refocused on the task ahead of him. He checked his gun, gulped down a quick cup of coffee, took a last look around, and left. Almost as an afterthought, he pocketed his keys. In the unlikely event that he survived today, it would be nice to be able to drive his own car back here, to shower and change. And then? “Who the fuck knows?”
Sleep, he supposed, after giving the matter some thought. If he was lucky enough to get a few hours in before his crime was discovered and he was apprehended, he wouldn’t mind sleeping a little bit more.
He’d like to sleep for a good long time in fact, perhaps forever. If he was lucky, maybe he’d dream some more about Cara. It would likely be the only chance the two of them had for any kind of happiness this side of the grave, and he was even less certain about their chances on the other side. Considering what his plans were when he caught up with Gregg, he very much doubted that he and Cara would be spending the afterlife in the same place.
* * *
Scout stared at Nick, appalled by his words. “What do you mean, not a chance? You have to.”
Nick shook his head. “No way. If this is a dream, I’m gonna stay asleep for as long as I can. I’ve waited too long for this, for you to come back to me. Christ, this is the first time I’ve even dreamed of you in... years, I think. I’m not giving it up now. For what?”
“For us. For our life together. Our real life. With Cole and Kate. We have a family Nick, don’t you remember anything?”
“Sure I do,” he replied, grinning wickedly as his hands slid down her back, molding her against him. “I remember lots of things. Like how convincing you can be when you want to. And how you were always trying to make me believe something that wasn’t true. But I’m not in the mood for any of your stories right now.” He bent his lips to hers and murmured, “Less talk, more action.”
Scout pushed him away. “Stop it, Nick. You have to listen to me.”
Nick’s eyes glittered. A dangerous smile flickered across his lips. “Hey, it’s my dream, I’ll call the shots. This time, we play things my way.”
“It’s not that kind of a dream,” Scout whispered. “And, you have to wake up. If you don’t, you’re going to die.”
The smile disappeared from Nick’s face, leaving only anger in its wake. “What is this crap? I’ll die if I don’t wake up? What kind of dream is that?”
“Please. It’s complicated. I don’t have time to explain. You just have to believe me, Nick. You have to trust me. We have a life together now. A wonderful life. But, if you don’t wake up… that’ll all be over. You’ll die and… and I’ll never get to be with you again.”
Nick stared at her, skeptically, and Scout felt her heart sink. Help me, she pleaded silently, though she wasn’t sure to whom, or to what, her prayers were directed. She couldn’t believe it had come down to this, that Nick’s life, her future, everything that mattered could all hinge on the very things that were hardest for each of them to deal with. Things that had tripped them up, time and again. Trust. Belief. And all the lies she’d told, back in the very beginning, when they’d first met. She’d always known there’d be a price to pay for that, but she’d thought she’d paid already with years of loneliness.
“You must think I’m some kind of idiot,” Nick said, sounding angry. His eyes searched her face but the tears in her own eyes blurred her vision and she couldn’t read his expression.
“No. I don’t. I swear I don’t.”
“Well, I must be.” Nick shook his head. “Because no matter how many times you prove me wrong, I still can’t believe you’re lying.”
“I’m not,” Scout murmured, sagging against him in relief. “I wouldn’t.”
“So, you’re saying, in this life I can’t remember, we’re together? You finally came back to me?”
She nodded, hoping against hope that she was actually getting through to him.
He glanced at her hand. “And we’re… married?”
Again she nodded. “Yes.”
Nick held her close. “Will you be there when I wake up?” he asked and then, before she could even answer, he urged, “Just say yes.”
“Yes. I will. I promise.”
“Good,” Nick whispered, but his voice was fading and, even before the word was said, his arms had dissipated from around her. Scout opened her eyes, surprised to find herself alone, surrounded by mist. She closed her eyes again, intending to think herself back to the RV, but when the spinning had stopped and she opened her eyes, she found herself back at the high school, instead.
“What am I doing here?” she asked, close to panicked. “I have to get back. I promised.” God alone knew what would happen if she went back on her word. If Nick woke up and she wasn’t there–
“Relax.” Lisa smiled as she hopped off the table where she’d been sitting and walked toward her. “Time’s an illusion, remember? Besides, I wanted a chance to say good-bye.”
Illusion or not, Scout didn’t feel like taking chances. “What do you mean, good-bye? Where am I going?”
“You’re not. I am.” Lisa nodded over her shoulder at Marsha. “We’ve been talking. It’s time for me to move on.” She glanced around the room and sighed. “It was fun while it lasted, but this life is over for me. I need to let it go.”
“What? Lisa, no,” Scout protested, feeling grief stricken all over again. She couldn’t deal with this now, too. “Please. You can’t–”
“Oh, yes, I can,” Lisa said, sweeping her in for a quick hug. “Bye, little sister. Sorry for all the trouble I caused you. Maybe next time we’ll get it right, okay?”
Scout stared at her, dumbfounded, shocked speechless by the realization that this was really good-bye. That there wasn’t anything she could say to change Lisa’s mind. And that she didn’t have time to try, anyway. It’s so unfair!
“It’s really okay, you know,” Lisa continued, still smiling brightly, “Give Lucy a hug for me, and tell her I’ll catch her on the flip-side.” She turned back to Marsha. “And you – remember what I told you.”
Marsha gulped and nodded, and Scout was surprised at the tears that streamed down her face. “I will.”
“All right, then.” Lisa sighed, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders she crossed quickly toward a door on the other side of the room. “Later, chicas,” she said as she reached for the handle. The door opened and a blaze of light shot out and blinded Scout. As she threw up a hand to shield her eyes and squinted through the bright haze that filled her vision, she heard Lisa’s voice one last time whispering, “Via con Dios, muchachas.”
A loud hammering sound jerked Scout back to reality. She gasped in surprise as the RV’s ceiling swam into view above her head. The room appeared to be shaking, but she had no time to adjust to the shock of returning. The vehicle swayed even more violently as the door was pulled open.
“Where’s Scout?” Ryan demanded, sounding breathless. “We need her back in Nick’s room. Now.”
* * *
For the third time in a week, Liam found himself observing a crime scene. Once again, he’d arrived too late. He stared in disbelief at the charred, smoldering ruin that, until yesterday, had been a gracious, old mansion. What a waste.
There was something disturbingly familiar about the sight, but it took him a while to figure it out. Dagoba. The destruction before him looked a lot like the photos he’d seen of the commune. But photos and dry reports could not compare with the sights and the smells of the real thing.
Spying a semi-familiar face among the emergency workers who were milling about, Liam strode forward purposefully, doing his best to exude an air of confidence. “What’ve we got?” he queried as he approached his former colleague.
The man, whose name Liam could not recall, shook his head wearily. “Dunno. Some kind of fire bomb, or somethin’, I guess? They’re still finding bodies. It’s gonna be a while before we know anything.”
“Anyone in custody yet?” Liam asked.
“Custody?”
His informant snorted. “Man, look at this place. You think anyone made it out of there alive? Not likely. We’ll be lucky if there’s enough left of any of them for us to even make a positive head count.
Liam nodded. No, they wouldn’t get an accurate head count from something like this, would they? And with that thought, his last hope died. Amy and Jack were dead. He knew it. He’d always known it.
A faint thrill of interest did trickle through him, though, when he caught sight of what remained of his car, buried amid the debris. With any luck, maybe he, too, could be counted among the dead.
He could pull a Jim and slip away, go someplace where no one knew him. Start a new life, get a new identity.
Right after he killed Gregg.
Despite appearances, despite what everyone else was thinking or saying, Liam knew the son of a bitch wasn’t dead. He knew it, the same way he now knew that his family was. He could feel it inside him. There wasn’t much he was feeling, at the moment, but he could feel that. Cold, evil, vengeful, but alive, God damn it.
The bastard had probably used the tunnel to get in and out without being seen, and the fact that Liam had busted his own ass clearing the way for him– Hell, he wasn’t just going to kill the bastard. He was going to rip Gregg’s fucking head off and piss down his throat. And that would just be for starters.
But first, he had to find him.
That wasn’t going to be easy, and Liam knew he was going to have to bring every bit of psychic talent he possessed to bear on the problem. He thought briefly about going to Chenoa. If he could get her help– But he couldn’t. He’d already caused her enough trouble, he couldn’t involve her in something like this.
Besides, it was time to start playing possum. Dead men kept low profiles. He’d have to steer clear of everyone who knew him, everyone he cared about.
With a casual nod, Liam took his leave of his companion and made a bee-line toward the row of emergency vehicles parked along the side of the road. He snagged a bottle of water out of the open door of one of the vehicles, slipped into the narrow gap between two more of them, and slid into the woods, moving as quickly and as quietly as he could manage.
Cool, shaded air closed over him as he left the sunlight behind and blended into the shadows. He was a ghost now. A deadly ghost on a fell mission. “As within, so without,” he murmured, smiling at the irony. He was a non-entity now, a cipher, invisible to the world. A perfect match for the way he felt inside. Blank. Empty. Dead.
* * *
“Not so fast,” Lucy murmured, as Scout scrambled to her feet. She grabbed hold of her friend’s wrist. “Wait a minute.”
Scout’s eyes blazed. “Lucy, are you crazy? Nick needs me. I have to go!”
“Five seconds, Scout. Let me undo the circle first. We’re not gonna mess this up. I’m doing things right this time.”
“Well, hurry up,” Scout snapped, fidgeting impatiently.
As Lucy reached for the obsidian blade Marsha had used at the start of the ritual, she assessed both her friends. “Are you okay, Marsha?” she asked quietly. “Mission accomplished?”
Marsha nodded, still wiping tears from her face. “I think so, Luce. You can let her go now. I think we’re done.”
Well, it wasn’t the world’s most enthusiastic answer, Lucy reflected as she extended the blade before her and undescribed the circle Marsha had cast, but it was better than last time, anyway.
There was no way yet to know whether the prayers she’d made while the others had been unconscious had had any effect. She could only wait and hope.
“I’m here, Ryan,” Scout said, practically leaping for the door. “Let’s go. What’s happening?”
“Hey, hold on,” Lucy called as the door slammed shut behind them. “I’m coming, too.” She cast another glance at Marsha. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” Marsha said, her eyes sliding past her to smile at Sam who had stepped forward to take the blade from Lucy’s hand.
“You go ahead,” he said as he returned Marsha’s smile. “I’ll take care of things here.”
* * *
Marsha sighed in relief as Sam settled himself on the floor beside her. She inched forward until she was able to rest her head against his shoulder.
“How’re you doing, angel?” he murmured as his arms closed around her. “Everything go okay?”
Marsha nodded. She was exhausted, saddened, too overwhelmed to speak about what had gone on, about everything she and Lisa had discussed. And too depressed to give voice to her disappointment. She’d been hoping that the abilities she’d temporarily regained while entranced would somehow stay with her. She should have known better.
“Just hold me awhile,” she whispered, snuggling closer, trying to recapture her mood from earlier in the day. She’d woken up happy this morning. She’d felt peaceful. Loved. Resigned to her new existence. But this morning seemed like a lifetime ago. She’d had a brief taste of heaven in the meantime, and it had cut up her peace, disordered her world, and left her bereft. There was only one thing now for her to cling to.
“Are you cold, angel?” Sam asked, his voice tender. “Or thirsty? Do you need anything?”
“Just you, Sam,” she murmured, sliding a hand around his waist. “All I need is you.”
* * *
The door to Nick’s room was standing open when Scout got there. She could hear the murmur of voices while she was still several yards away, and she broke into a run.
She paused in the doorway, stifling a cry as she gazed at the bed. The room seemed to be full of people. Several heads turned in her direction, several sets of eyes locked on her face, but there was only one that mattered.
Nick’s eyebrows rose. “You’re late.”
She flew across the room and threw herself into his arms. “I know. I’m sorry,” she sobbed against his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“Shh,” he soothed, as his hands stroked her hair. “It’s all right. Come on, I’m just teasing.”
“Well, stop it, already,” Lucy said from the doorway, sounding pleased and relieved, and only a little annoyed. “While you’ve been napping she hasn’t had any sleep at all. So, cut her some slack.”
“Hey, cuz, good to see you, too,” Nick drawled, and Scout could tell he was smiling.
Relief hit her then and what felt like the weight of several mountains was lifted from her chest. A sob broke from her lips. It’s okay now. It’s really, really okay. And she didn’t have to be strong. And she didn’t have to be brave. And she didn’t have to be frightened anymore. She could just be.
“See what you’ve done?” Lucy snapped, sounding reproachful. “Now you’ve made her cry.”
Nick’s laugh rumbled in his chest. “It’s all right, Lucy. She’s just tired, remember?” He paused for a moment and then asked, “So, what did I miss?”
“Christ,” Ryan sighed. “Several shitloads, I think. I don’t even know where to start.”
“Okay, everyone, I’m going to have to ask you all to leave,” an unfamiliar voice said.
Scout clutched Nick tighter. No. I won’t leave him. I won’t!
“We have some tests to run,” the voice continued, “and–”
“Not now, you don’t,” Nick said as he pulled Scout closer. “Your tests can wait, I’m not going anywhere. But, I’ve got more important things to deal with, right now. You come back later.”
“But– Now, hold on a minute,” the voice sounded confused, outraged. “You can’t–”
“I just did, didn’t I?”
“Okay, look,” Ryan interjected in a reasonable, slightly amused tone. “Why don’t you give us... what do you think, Nick? Half an hour?”
“Make it an hour,” Nick replied, pressing a kiss against Scout’s head. “I don’t like being rushed.”
“Right.” Ryan chuckled. “An hour, okay? Then we’ll all clear out and you can do whatever you want to him.”
“Hey, let’s not go overboard with the concessions,” Nick p
rotested. “And get me some food, while you’re at it. I’m starving. When the hell’d I last eat, anyway?”
“Sunday,” a new voice chimed in. Adam, Scout thought. She wondered who else was here, not that it mattered. The rail of Nick’s bed was digging into her ribs and his hospital gown felt scratchy against her cheek, but she’d never been happier. “Four days ago.”
“Four days?” Nick repeated. He put his hand beneath Scout’s chin and tipped her head up ‘til they were face to face. His eyes looked stricken. “I’ve been unconscious for four days?”
Scout nodded. Four of the longest days of my life.
“I’m sorry. I-I had no idea.”
“It’s okay,” she murmured, blinking back tears. It was okay – now.
“So, what’d you want to eat?” Adam asked.
Nick shook his head. “I dunno. Anything. Whatever.”
“All right,” Adam replied, sounding vaguely amused by the prospect of being in control. “If you say so…”
Nick groaned. “Sasso… look, just make it something edible, all right?”
“Make it something light,” Lucy cautioned. “You can’t break a four day fast with anything too heavy.”
“And, much as I hate to be a wet blanket,” Ryan said, “the clock is ticking, you know. We’ve only got about an hour and there’s a lot of ground to cover. What can you tell me about your accident?”
Nick winced, as though Ryan had touched on a sore spot, and Scout thought he looked tired and worn as he leaned back against his pillows. “Well, to start with, it wasn’t an accident.”
Chapter Thirty Eight
Deliver me, O Lord, from evil men;
preserve me from violent men.
From those who devise evil in their hearts,