Round Trip Fare

by Barb Taub

  Almost an hour had passed when her phone buzzed again. “Claire?”

  Claire’s voice came over the speaker. It was calm as always. Carey knew only someone who had known Claire well for many years would have heard the worry behind it. “I’ve tried over and over. Carey, I really tried. I won’t be a full witch for another forty years or so. Right now, I don’t have the juice for this. I’m just so… Is there anything else…? Carey?”

  “Claire, it’s not your fault. We’ll think of something.”

  A bored young voice carried over the line. “I’m tired, and I can’t get a phone signal in here. Are you going to be much longer?”

  Carey sat up. “Leigh Ann! I want to talk to you.”

  “Well, I want to go to bed. Can you guys wrap this up?”

  “We need your help. Claire needs you to give her some inspiration so she can finish a spell.”

  “You’re kidding, right? I’m already sentenced to Null City for the next five years. You think I’d risk making that a longer sentence?”

  The Director interrupted. “What if we can shorten your sentence? Maybe cut off a year for good behavior?”

  Leigh Ann considered. “Three years.”

  “Fine. I’ll get your sentence reduced to three years.”

  “No, I meant you would reduce the sentence by three years. I’ll be back home in two years.”

  Now it was Director Jeffers’ turn to hesitate.

  “And maybe…” Claire’s voice broke in. In the background, they could hear something metal being dragged. “Just maybe, Leigh Ann, you’d like to spend more quality time with my trash can? I’m not having any trouble at all working my gag spell.”

  Leigh Ann heaved the martyred sigh of the teen everygirl. Carey was pretty sure it was accompanied by an eye roll.

  “Fine,” Leigh Ann grumbled. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Your civic-minded cooperation is duly noted.” Claire’s tone was dry. “What do I do?”

  “Just concentrate on what you’re trying to create. I’ll do the rest.”

  There was silence on the line, and a voice Carey barely recognized as Claire’s muttered, “Almost…now it goes… Yes! Got it!”

  The breath Leigh Ann sucked in seemed odd under the circumstances until they heard her slurred voice. “Deeelishush!”

  “Is she drunk?” Director Jeffers was appalled.

  Claire’s laugh sounded strained. “She had to go sit down. Apparently witches’ creativity is a stronger dish than our little Leannán Sí is used to.”

  “How do you feel, Claire?”

  “It doesn’t matter right now. We only have about an hour-and-a-half window left before you start twitching and convulsing. I’m scarred for life from the memory of Carey the morning after the First Year party. Nobody else needs to see something like that, so we need to focus on the rest of the plan. I have to spell the remote onto one of the Outsiders, and I’m going to need a visual for that.”

  Director Jeffers moved forward. “What eyes do you have on the Warehouse?”

  “We know the Outsiders have soldiers within the Agency, so the only ones I could be sure of are Wardens Anderson, Oshiro, and Aix. Laurel is in charge, and she had them positioned far enough away from the warehouse to be inconspicuous. But she says now that a crowd has gathered around the police lines after the explosion, she thinks they could get closer.”

  “Keep Anderson back. He’s an idiot. Get Laurel to text you a picture of one of the Outsiders, preferably one who seems to be guarding the outside perimeter. Can you use a photo for a visual?”

  “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know, actually.” Claire sucked in a breath, and Carey could just picture her pencil stabbing that perfect hair twist. “All I need to do is use a map program to picture a place I’ve never been, and rely on Laurel to tell me when someone I’ve never seen is on that exact spot, and try a spell transfer I’ve never done before. And then we have to hope that person happens to pass close enough to release your escape door. And we have to do all that before your muscles start to twitch. Oh yeah, piece of cake.”

  “Claire?” Carey’s voice was soft. “I’ll go to the reunion.”

  “I get to pick out your outfit? And you won’t bring weapons?”

  “The muscle twitching is starting to sound better and better.”

  Claire’s laugh was more genuine as she hung up.

  »»•««

  Director Jeffers’ phone buzzed.

  LeannánGrl: Laurel szs d Outsider iz stil not moving. Claire szs goin 2 hav 2 try NothA 1.

  To preserve the charge on Carey’s phone, they had switched to texting. Using text-speak so dense it was almost incomprehensible, Leigh Ann relayed what was happening. The first attempt to spell one of the Outsiders had failed when that soldier went into the warehouse and didn’t emerge. Laurel sent another Outsider’s picture. Claire worked the spell again. But that soldier hadn’t moved in almost half an hour. Their safety window only had about ten minutes left when Jeffers’ phone ran out of power.

  They switched back to Carey’s phone, but its charge level was in the red.

  Claire’s voice was faint but still eerily calm. “Laurel was my best bet because I know her so well. I’ll have to try sending through one of the others.” She hesitated. “I knew Peter Oshiro…well…back at the Academy.”

  Carey snorted. “Is that what they’re calling it now?”

  Claire ignored her. “He says he can send a photo of one of the soldiers who’s pretending to be a police officer and patrolling the crowd barriers.”

  Carey could hear the exhaustion in her friend’s voice. “Claire…can you do another one?”

  “Not much choice.” She hung up.

  A few minutes later, the phone rang again. “I’ve got…the photo. Trying to…spell the remote, but…I don’t have much left…”

  They heard gasping breaths and a soft sob.

  “Okay, fine. But you guys better remember that I’m helping you.” Leigh Ann’s voice came over the line. “Take my hand, Miss Daniels.”

  A moment later, Claire’s voice sounded stronger. “Got it. And…” Carey’s phone went dead.

  She looked at both men in the dim light. “She’ll do it. We need to be ready. Can we hear the back door unlock from in here?”

  Yosh looked at Jeffers. “Sir?”

  “We’ll just keep trying it from our side. Weapon up and let’s go.”

  She followed them to a tunnel entrance so small they had to go single file. There was a brief struggle for the front position. Despite Yosh’s glare and Jeffers’ grumbling, Carey went first.

  The short tunnel ended in a round hatch that looked like an airlock from a submarine. “Somebody’s seen one too many Bond movies,” Carey snorted.

  “Quiet.” Jeffers motioned to Yosh to sit, and Bain settled next to him. Carey crawled over them to try the door. It wouldn’t move. She sat next to Yosh.

  As the minutes crawled by, passing the safety window Claire had given, Carey wrapped her arms around Bain. She turned a face of stone to Jeffers. “We might do better without the dog.”

  Yosh went completely still.

  “I trust Claire. We’ll all make it.” Jeffers’ voice was calm. “Together.”

  She nodded, a sharp jerk of her head. But her hands fisted in her dog’s fur.

  She tried the door about twice a minute. Over and over as the minutes crawled by. Two, five, ten…Finally she turned to them. “Maybe we should try forcing it?”

  Yosh stared at the steel reinforced door. “You and what army?”

  There was a click, and a green light came on above the door. Carey exhaled, and cautiously edged the door open. A cold breeze smelling of wet Seattle street poured in. They gulped and leaned for the opening just as she pulled it almost closed again.

  She held up five fingers and pointed to the door. Five soldiers outside. Two fingers to the left, one to the right. Two straight ahead. Carey palmed stars in both hands, Jeffers put his gun into his waist
band and pulled out a long knife. Yosh had a knife in each hand. Carey held up two fingers and pointed to the left. Yosh nodded, pointed to himself and then straight ahead. Jeffers looked disgusted, but pointed to the right.

  The door flew open, and Carey automatically pulled connections as she dived to the left. Okay, one would turn slightly, exposing his throat. The other would present a harder target, diving slightly to the right and shielded by his fellow soldier. Both of her stars flew, and her targets dropped, one dead but the other only winged. He pulled a gun, but as he stopped to aim, a low shadow hit him, Bain’s jaws closing on his arm. His gun dropped as Carey’s boot knife was buried in his throat.

  Yosh’s knife hit the first soldier, but the second whirled to meet his attack. He was as tall as Yosh and battle trained. As the two grappled, Jeffers stood panting over the body of the remaining soldier. He ignored his bleeding arm to snarl at Yosh, “Come on, boy. We don’t have all night.”

  Yosh grunted, and his opponent stiffened before sliding to the ground. After a quick check around, Yosh wiped the knife he was holding and retrieved the other one. Carey recovered her weapons, and they piled the bodies inside the panic room tunnel before closing the camouflaged entrance.

  They melted into the thinning crowd of news trucks and curious civilians as a minivan pulled up to the curb across the street to idle in the dark space between streetlamps. The side door slid open, and Leigh Ann called, “So, you guys coming or not?”

  Claire was slumped in the passenger seat. Carey squeezed her hand. “I don’t have much time, so we’ll need to go dress shopping tonight. I think Bell Square stays open late.”

  “Carey Parker, now you’re just being mean.”

  Carey noticed Yosh repeating the line to himself. Great.

  She pointed to Leigh Ann, who was still behind the wheel. “Hey, Claire. I didn’t know the Accords regulations allow prisoners to take part in field operations.”

  “Screw you, Carey Parker. I did good.”

  “So did I,” Leigh Ann crowed. “We should totally celebrate. Anybody up for clubbing? I know a great new place on the Ave over near U-Dub.”

  Claire groaned.

  Chapter Fifteen

  March 2011: Seattle

  Finding the Metro Station in Seattle was more difficult than Carey remembered. She and Yosh followed Director Jeffers, Bain at their heels, as they wandered streets near the piers for hours. Finally Carey growled. “Forget this crap.” Sitting on a high curb with Bain happily pressed against her, she braced her head on her arms and pictured adding the Metro to her game board. She groaned. “This train has a sick sense of humor.” Without opening her eyes, she pointed back over her shoulder. On the street behind them—the same street they had been down at least three times—was a door with a discreet Metro sign.

  They followed Jeffers through the door and downstairs to an ancient-looking booth with a big TICKETS sign on the top. The painted wood booth was a faded scarlet with gold filigree swirls surrounding a pressed brass drawer and a large handle on the front. Dark windows surrounded by carved and polished mahogany reflected their faces. Jeffers pushed the Start button on the counter, and the booth’s window lit up. Inside, a mannequin dressed in a conductor’s uniform opened her eyes, and a voice that reminded Carey of bells asked, “Name and destination?”

  “Three round-trip tickets for Kurt Jeffers, Iax Zahavi, and Carey Parker.” Jeffers looked down as Bain nudged his legs. “And for Bain Parker, Australian shepherd. Destination is…search for Harry Daniels.”

  The Conductor was silent for so long Carey started to worry that it was broken. Finally they heard the bells-voice again. “No charge for canine Bain if accompanied by round-trip ticket holder. Ticketing options for Carey Parker and Iax Zahavi. Round-trip fare to Watcher Court: surrender Gift for nine months or two point seven five pints of blood each. Ticketing options for Kurt Jeffers. No Gift surrender option available. Round-trip fare to Watcher Court: two point seven five pints of blood or six months residence in Null City.”

  They looked at each other. Carey was the first to speak. “I can fight without my warrior gift. But if I lose that much blood, I might be too weak to search for Marley.” Yosh nodded.

  Jeffers’ eyebrows shook with his fury. “I can’t stay in Null City for six months.”

  Carey stepped up to the machine. “Carey Parker. Gift surrender ticketing option.”

  She pulled the Ticket lever and shivered. Before she picked up the ticket that fluttered to the tray, she closed her eyes and pictured her game board. Nothing. It would be like fighting blindfolded. Been there, done that, thanks to Harry’s training. She shrugged and picked up the ticket.

  “Iax Zahavi. Gift surrender ticketing option.” He pulled the lever. After sucking in a breath, he reached for his own ticket.

  Carey looked at Jeffers. “You could wait here for us. We could go to this Watcher place and try to find out about Harry.”

  “Kurt Jeffers.” He frowned at the machine and set his hand on the Ticket lever. “Blood ticketing option.” Face pale, he picked up his ticket. Turning toward the turnstile, he stumbled and would have fallen if Carey and Yosh hadn’t each taken an arm. Bain followed quietly.

  »»•««

  “I was born in Null City.” Yosh’s voice was soft, casual. He sat across from her on one of the dark red leather bench seats that lined the old-fashioned train car. Director Jeffers was slumped on a bench across the aisle, covered with both of their coats.

  “Huh. So was I. We left when Connor and I were only two because my dad was fighting in the war. I don’t remember much about it.”

  “I left the day I turned sixteen. My big brother Aaron was fighting with a brigade out of Austin, and I wanted to join him.”

  She watched his face reflected in the window between their benches, noticing the way light played with his high cheekbones, the slight bump in the line of his nose, the shadows of his day-two beard. And she waited.

  “In Null City my parents were just like everyone else. Dad worked for the post office, and Mom was a dental hygienist.” His dark eyes looked at the absolute darkness beyond the window, but she thought they reflected a past only he could see. “So I never even thought about what they brought with them to Null City. I took my first Amnesty Day and left for Texas. I remember Mom cried.”

  He was silent for so long she wondered if that was all she was going to get. Her eyes studied his reflection but she didn’t move. When he finally continued, each word had an unused quality, as if it had never met the words on either side of it before. “The first night I was there, I had just closed my eyes when I saw the farm. It looked like any of the other farms around that part of Texas, but my unit was responding to their distress call, so we were going in careful. Then we saw the family, still far away, but all standing in front of the barn and waving at us. So the entire troop headed in. Only as we got close, the little girl fell over sideways. She just lay there without moving anything but that arm that was still lifting her little body with each wave. The whole family were staked to the barn, dead, and there was a motor rigged with ropes to pull their arms up and down. Our sergeant saw the trap and she screamed to everyone to get out, but the barn just kind of blew toward us, a giant explosion killing everything in its path. They told me I sat up on my army cot and gave a scream like nothing anyone there had ever heard before.”

  His words were still flat, unemotional, but his eyes were fixed straight ahead. “They told me everyone was fine, and it was just a dream. But everyone wasn’t fine. At the exact same time I had that dream, my brother Aaron’s patrol was hit by sniper fire. He was killed instantly.”

  He paused briefly and closed his eyes. “Sarge asked if I wanted to take Aaron’s body back to Null City, but I was so damn mad I just wanted to make those bastards who killed him suffer. So I said no, and we buried him with the others on his patrol.

  “But here’s the thing. The very next day, our troop took a distress call from a farm. As we came over t
he ridge, I saw the family in front of the barn, like in my dream. I told my sergeant, and since just about everyone in the troop had a gift of some kind, she took it seriously. Sarge told the colonel, and he waited until the little girl fell over the way I’d seen. He sent scouts around in a wide circle, and they managed to take out the team waiting to detonate the explosion in the barn. Nobody else died.”

  Carey still said nothing. There was more.

  He stared into formless darkness outside the train window, his mouth stretched in a nightmare’s parody of a grin. “I dreamed again the next week. And two nights after that. The screaming made even the veterans nervous, so they moved my cot into the supply tent on the other side of our camp. I’d make up that damn cot perfectly each day and then stare at it for hours before I’d finally lie down to sleep. I never wanted the visions to stop, because if I could figure out what they meant or where they were going to take place, I had a shot at preventing horrible things from happening.

  “Sometimes days, or weeks, or even months would go by, but then I’d wake up with that awful scream, and the vision. And then I would find out that someone I knew, usually someone in my family, was dead. I dreamed a flash flood that was going wipe out a base in Colorado. We saved everyone on that base, but nobody saved my mom when she dropped dead that same day from a brain tumor no one even knew she had. After I couldn’t make it to her funeral, Dad sent me a letter on his next amnesty day. It said that he had been a banshee, and Mom had the Sight before they met and decided to move to Null City for a normal life. Somehow I must have ended up with a combination of their two Gifts. Two days later I dreamed a poison gas attack on the Austin Metro in time to capture all three terrorists. My sarge took a grenade the following day.”

  Carey didn’t know when she had reached for his hand, but his fist clenched around her smaller fingers.

  “So you want to know how I connected you and Connor? It really all started back on the ridge that day when we saw the farm. The colonel who believed me was named Kurt Jeffers. He asked me the next day what I wanted to do with my life. I told him I needed to learn everything he could teach me about fighting and about planning because I was going to make those bastards all pay.”