Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Wrath of Isis

by P. T. Dilloway

  The rat survived the trip, but as Pepe scrambled to the ground, Tim saw that the rat’s black fur had turned gray to the point that it was almost indistinguishable from his silver streak. Emma had fared even more poorly. When he set her on the ground to unwrap her from the cape, he saw that her hair had gone completely gray; the lank, greasy strands fanned over her face. He brushed these aside and gasped. Her face had become a maze of wrinkles, the skin pulled so tightly that her bones were visible. The rest of her body had become just as old and bony, as if she had been mummified.

  Tim had seen this effect before. Back at TriTech, Harry Ward had placed Sylvia into a vault made of metal from the parallel universe. The vault had dampened Sylvia’s magic, so that she could no longer keep herself young. Her body began to revert to its actual age, over five hundred years old. Before she was freed, Sylvia had looked the same as Emma did now.

  This mummified version of Emma suddenly sprang to life. She took a look around with eyes whose irises had turned milk white and then hissed like Pepe or some other wild creature. She bared her fangs, which had remained white and perfect while the rest of her teeth had turned to gnarled yellow stumps. Tim took an involuntary step back at this ghastly sight to allow Emma to get to her feet. Her fingernails extended into claws that tore at the armor, but did nothing more than chip paint.

  Though he didn’t want to, Tim saw no choice but to hit her with another dart. Emma’s ghoulish body continued to claw at him for a moment before she sagged into his arms. He gathered her up and carried her over his back like a sack of grain. As he did, he tried to tell himself that this had not been Emma, just some creature Isis had created.

  The problem then became: how would they ever get the real Emma back?

  ***

  He found Akako and Old Coyote still camped out with the tractor-trailer. Akako rushed forward to meet him and took Emma from over his shoulder. Emma’s mummified body weighed so little that Akako had no trouble with this. “Oh no,” Akako said. “What did she do to her?”

  Tim took off his helmet and tossed it to the ground. “She made her into a vampire. We’ve got to get her somewhere dark before the sun comes up.”

  “Use the back of the truck,” Old Coyote said. “No sunlight getting in there and should be plenty of room.”

  Akako carried Emma over to the truck; Tim followed after her. As Old Coyote had said, the trailer would be protected from the sunlight and there was more than enough room for her. The only problem would be to get air into the trailer so she wouldn’t suffocate. To solve this problem, Tim punched a few holes in the side of the truck.

  “Hope you can pay for that,” Old Coyote said with a grin.

  “Just tell the insurance company some random lunatic vandalized your truck.”

  “Wouldn’t be far from the truth.” The old trucker volunteered to bring cushions from the bed inside the trailer to make a bed for Emma to lie on. Akako set her down gently on this; Emma mercifully stayed asleep.

  Tim left Akako to cover the holes he’d made in the trailer while he took off the armor. Once this was complete, he excused himself for a moment to go down to the bushes and dispose of the soiled diaper he’d worn inside the armor. This made him think of Sylvia, who at this moment wore a diaper as well and sucked on a pacifier. That was if that woman and Isis hadn’t found something even crueler to do to her.

  He returned to the camp and sagged onto the ground. Pepe crawled over to him to curl up at his feet like a dog. “That’s the biggest damned rat I ever seen,” Old Coyote said.

  “His name’s Pepe,” Tim said. He scratched the rat’s head. “He’s the one who really found Emma—and Jim Rizzard.”

  “That’s impossible,” Akako said.

  “What is?”

  “Jim Rizzard is dead. He died in Russia.”

  “But she said—”

  “Isis must have created a look-alike. One real enough even to fool Pepe. If that’s the real Pepe,” Akako said. She glared at the rat.

  “Why wouldn’t it be Pepe? I told you, he helped me find her. If he was spying for Isis, why wouldn’t she have stopped me long before then?”

  “I don’t know.” Akako sighed. “Maybe I’m being paranoid. We’ll just have to keep an eye on him.”

  “I guess so.” Tim looked into the fire for a moment before he asked, “What happened to Sylvia? Did she really run off?”

  “Yes. We tried to stop her but she was too fast. She was trying to find you.”

  “I found her.” He told them about what he had seen on the rooftop of the police precinct. As he did Akako’s face turned pale and tears formed in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “That woman who had her, did she have pale skin, brown hair, and blue eyes shaped like mine?”

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  “That’s Renee. My Renee.” Akako buried her head in her hands and sobbed. Old Coyote leaned over to put a hand on her back while Tim could only stare at her in shock. He thought of the picture of Renee that had been in his wallet, the one of a baby with pale skin, brown hair, and blue eyes, the one that had turned into a little girl named Sophie at the same time Emma’s letters went blank.

  “We’ll find a way to get her back,” Tim said. “We’ll get them all back. Sylvia and Becky and Louise—everyone.”

  Akako looked up at him through her tear-filled eyes. “She has Louise?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “Oh no,” Akako said again. She waved away his attempts to console her. “There’s nothing we can do. Emma is the only one who can stop her.” Akako stood up and headed for the trailer where Emma slept.

  By the time Tim reached her, Akako had already opened the door. “What are you doing?”

  Akako motioned to Emma’s mummified body. “We can’t let her die or we’ll never be able to stop Isis and I’ll never get my family back.”

  Tim didn’t understand what Akako was doing until she picked up a box cutter from atop a crate. She flicked out the blade; at first he thought it was to ward him off. Then he watched as she cut a gash along her left palm. “Akako—”

  “She needs blood. This is the only way.” Akako held her bloody palm up to Emma’s chapped lips. At first the blood only dribbled down Emma’s face but gradually her lips turned fuller and began to suck at Akako’s hand.

  Tim nearly fainted as he watched Emma suckle from Akako’s palm. The rest of Emma’s body began to regenerate as well: meat fleshed out her body and pushed the bones away from the skin; her hair turned red again; and the wrinkles in her face smoothed out. She looked more like a teenager than a woman of almost thirty.

  “She’s so young. You’re sure it’s really her?”

  “I don’t know. Isis seemed to think so. You think she was messing with us?”

  “It’s not beyond the realm of possibility.”

  Akako pulled her palm away and then tore a piece of fabric from her clothes to tie around the wound. The moment Akako pulled back, Emma sat up. One thing that hadn’t changed were her eyes. These were the same milky white as before, like those of a madwoman. Emma snarled at them and bore her fangs.

  Tim didn’t want to leave Akako there, but he saw no choice but to race back over to the armor. He was just lifting the right gauntlet when Akako flew out of the trailer. Emma sailed out after her to land in an animal-like crouch. She turned to face Tim and held up a clawed hand to warn him away from her victim.

  “Emma, don’t!”

  “It’s not her!” Akako shouted. “Shoot her!”

  Tim didn’t need to be told twice. He stuffed his arm into the gauntlet and used his normal muscles to raise it enough to fire. The dart hit Emma’s right breast. She hissed at him again before she sagged to the ground.

  “What the hell is that?” Old Coyote asked.

  “It’s not Emma,” Akako said. She scrambled to her feet.

  “So Isis did mess with us?”

  Akako shook her head. “No. It’s Emma’s body, but not her mind. At least
not her higher brain functions.”

  “What happened to her mind, then? Does Isis have it?”

  “No. Joanna does.”

  Part 3

  Chapter 25

  Emma drifts in a sea of blood. Her hand clutches another and as she looks to her left she sees Jim bob on the surface of the red ocean. His eyes look to her and plead with her to get them to safety. “Don’t worry, I’ll save you,” she shouts to him to be heard over the roar of the waves. “Just stay with me.”

  Even as she says this, a mammoth wave rises up before them. In this wave she sees a pair of glowing eyes the same color as the blood sea. A mouth full of pointed teeth forms to devour them. Emma grips Jim’s hand and tries to pull him towards her, to cling to him.

  But she can’t. The current is too strong. His hand slips away from hers an inch at a time, until she’s left to grasp at air. She screams his name and tries in vain to swim towards him, to reach him before the horrible mouth swallows him.

  She’s too late. He disappears into the mouth, which then turns into a hideous grin that mocks her. The roar of the waves becomes laughter that rings in her ears.

  Emma woke up with a scream. She tried to sit up, but a hand reached out to stop her. “Easy now,” a voice whispered. It sounded so much like her own that she needed a moment to realize she hadn’t spoken. “It’s all right. You’re safe now.”

  “Where am I?” she asked. Her own voice sounded strange, even softer than her own.

  “You’re at my house.”

  “Who are you?”

  A light clicked on. She gasped to see a face nearly identical to the one she remembered. This woman’s face was a bit more lined and her red hair was cut shorter, but she could easily be Emma’s older sister. “I don’t think I introduced myself properly last time. My name is Dr. Emma Reed.”

  Emma felt her chest tighten. It became difficult to breathe; she wheezed for air. Dr. Reed patted her on the back. “Take it easy. Don’t get too excited.”

  Something about that seemed familiar to Emma. Then she saw how pale her skin was, even paler than usual. A tress of white-blond hair was draped over one shoulder. Emma touched it with one pasty hand. Her chest tightened even more as she thought of that young woman in the alley, the one she had nearly killed. “Megan?”

  “Take it easy. You’re not Megan. You just look like her for the moment.”

  “What?” Emma managed to get out. A wheeze punctuated her question. She felt something plastic thrust into her hands. She recognized it as an inhaler. She put the inhaler to her lips and then squeezed it. After a few seconds the tightness in her chest eased a bit.

  “There you go, just calm down.”

  “Is she awake, Mommy?” a little girl asked from the doorway.

  “You shouldn’t be out of bed, baby.”

  To emphasize this point, the little girl coughed violently. She grabbed the edge of the doorway to maintain her balance. Then she trotted over to her mother. The little girl was the spitting image of her mother, with the same sapphire eyes and copper hair, only hers was longer, nearly to her waist. “Hi,” the girl said. “I’m Joanna—”

  “But they call you Red because of your hair,” Emma said. “I…I remember you.”

  Her chest tightened again. She squirted more of the inhaler into her throat. “I don’t understand. What happened?”

  “I brought you here,” Joanna said.

  “Jim…where is he? What happened to him?” Emma thought again of those last moments, when that awful woman had stabbed him in the heart. No! He had to still be alive. She had to find him.

  She tried to get out of bed, but Dr. Reed held her back. Emma clawed at her, but that only caused her chest to tighten again. She quickly ran out of air and had to sink back to the mattress. “Jim—”

  “Jim wasn’t real, Emma. None of it was real. It was all a trick.”

  “No, it was real. You have to send me back. I have to go back.”

  “Not yet. You’re too weak.”

  “I’m not!” Emma protested, but at the moment she couldn’t even get out of bed. She touched her blond hair again. “What happened to me?”

  Dr. Reed put a hand on Joanna’s shoulder. “The last time Joanna brought you here, you thought you were Megan Putnam. We thought it would be best to do that again. That will make it easier to explain to people.” Dr. Reed smiled. “And it will keep you from getting into trouble.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It will come back to you. For now you just need to rest.” Dr. Reed turned to her daughter. “Both of you.”

  The little girl’s cheeks reddened. “All right, Mommy.”

  “I’m going to tuck Joanna in. But I won’t be gone long, so don’t try to get up again.”

  Emma considered this for a moment and then nodded. She was asleep again before Dr. Reed left the room.

  ***

  Emma woke up the next morning to a flash of light. She put a hand to her face and screamed. “It’s all right, sweetheart,” a familiar voice said. “It’s time for you to get up.”

  Emma opened her eyes and recognized the middle-aged redheaded woman. Dr. Emma Reed, she had said her name was. Emma looked down at her deathly pale hands and then brushed a tress of blond hair forward. It hadn’t been a dream. She really was here, with Dr. Reed and her daughter. But where was here?

  “Where am I?”

  “You still don’t remember?”

  “No. Can’t you send me back home?”

  “Not for a little while. Joanna needs to rest.” Dr. Reed knelt down beside the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  A slight wheeze accompanied Emma’s words as she said, “All right.”

  “You need to take it easy. Megan’s asthma is very sensitive, remember? You can’t get too upset.”

  “I’ll try not to.”

  “Good. Now, I’ve got breakfast in the kitchen. That will give us a chance to talk.”

  Emma nodded. She took Dr. Reed’s hand to help her out of bed. The doctor led her first into the bathroom, where Emma saw she did indeed look like Megan, that young woman in the alley, except she was much cleaner at the moment. “I’m Megan,” she whispered.

  “Only on the outside. Remember that.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Think of it as camouflage.”

  “Camouflage?”

  “A disguise. It should only be for a few days, until you and Joanna are ready.”

  “What’s wrong with Joanna?”

  “She’s just tired. It took a lot out of her to bring you here.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s not your fault. This was bound to happen eventually.” Dr. Reed smiled and then patted Emma’s shoulder. “Clean up a bit and then I’ll see you in the kitchen.”

  “Sure.” Emma waited until Dr. Reed left before she splashed cold water on her face. She opened her mouth to bare her teeth. They looked perfectly normal. To be sure, she touched her canines. There didn’t seem to be any fangs hidden. Had it all been a dream?

  She toddled down the hallway; her stomach guided her to the kitchen, where Dr. Reed had a stack of waffles on a plate for her. “You made it,” she said. “You really are getting better.”

  “I guess so.”

  Dr. Reed set a glass of orange juice down in front of Emma. Then she sat across the table from Emma, only a cup of tea in front of her. “Take a few bites and then we can talk.”

  Emma did as Dr. Reed said. The buttery, flaky waffles almost melted in her mouth. She was relieved the solid food went down without any nausea; maybe she was better now. She self-consciously patted her mouth and still didn’t feel any fangs. “These are really good.”

  “Thank you. Do you remember eating those before?”

  “No. Should I?”

  “No. I don’t think your mother was much of a cook.”

  “My mother?”

  “Do you remember her?”

  “I—” An image rose up in
Emma’s mind of a woman with curly auburn hair and blue eyes the same color as Dr. Reed’s. An instant later, Emma saw that woman face-down on a street, blood pooled beneath her. Emma’s chest tightened. She scrambled to find her inhaler.

  Dr. Reed hurried around the table to put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right, Emma. It’s going to be a big shock, I know. You just need to let the memories flow. Don’t try to fight them.”

  “Mom,” Emma whispered. She rolled her mother over and looked down into her lifeless eyes. She looked around a darkened street for help, but there was no one. “Mom!”

  “I’m sorry, Emma. Your mother is dead. Your father too. You remember the accident?”

  Emma nodded slowly. She remembered the flash of light and then the metallic crunch as the car hit the one she and her parents rode in. She had been only a little girl then, eight years old. Mom had told her to stay there and be quiet while she went for help. But Mom hadn’t made it; she had been shot twice—once in the back and once in the head.

  The rest of the memories came back in a flood. Faces flashed before her: Becky, Dan, Aggie, Akako, Sylvia, Jim. She saw him the clearest of all. She felt his lips press against hers. His tongue darted into her mouth—

  And then she saw another face: Louise. She was their little girl, with her father’s tangled hair and prominent front teeth, and her mother’s red hair, blue eyes, and big feet. “Louise. My baby.”

  “That’s right. You remember her now, don’t you?”

  Emma nodded. She remembered a child’s bedroom. Another little girl had been there, an Arab girl. She had terrible black eyes. Isis. “She took Louise. She did something to her. I had to get her back. I—”

  Emma remembered those last moments as she had said goodbye to Louise and then she had shrunk into a baby while Isis became a grown woman. “What happened to Louise? Is she safe?”

  “We don’t know. We haven’t been able to find her yet.”

  Emma tried to stand up, but like the night before she was too weak. Dr. Reed put a hand on her shoulder. “Easy now, Emma. We’re going to get her back. We’re going to stop Isis.”