Echo 8

by Sharon Lynn Fisher

  “How do you feel, Ross?”

  “I feel cold.”

  She frowned. There were two of them and only one of Jake. They couldn’t expect him to sustain them both, even if he was willing.

  Ross carried the wood to the space Tess had cleared and started working on their fire. As if he’d been reading her mind, he said, “Jake, I think you should try a transfer with her.”

  “The doc had her way with me already,” said Jake. “That means it’s your turn.”

  “He’s right, Ross.”

  “I’m fine,” Ross replied, not looking up from the sticks he was arranging. “I want you to take care of her.”

  “Fucking heroes,” muttered Jake. “Spoil it for the rest of us.”

  Jake tossed the wad of bills at Ross and turned to Tess. “Okay, sweetheart.”

  “I don’t need it yet. Rest up for Ross.”

  Jake rolled his eyes. “Vampires for roommates, and I can’t give it away.”

  Ross removed one of the bullets from the clip and tried wrenching it back and forth between his fingers.

  “That looks dangerous,” said Tess.

  “No. This probably is.” He gripped the bullet between his teeth, clamping down and yanking on it.

  “Ross!” The dark-scary-hole option was increasing in appeal.

  But there was no explosion, and after a few seconds he managed to work the bullet apart. He used the casing and a small stone to spark the powder, and a thin curl of smoke rose from the crumpled bills. He blew on the nascent flames until they licked up the sides of his teepee of sticks.

  Jake scooted closer to the fire, for once keeping his smart-ass commentary to himself.

  Ross stood up. “I’m going for more wood. Keep feeding it.”

  “I think we should try to stay together,” said Tess. “What if I suddenly transport back?”

  He eyed her, hesitating.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing. Just … I don’t know that it matters whether I’m five feet or fifty away from you.”

  “You mean you think we need to be touching?”

  “Yes. But I also think when you want to go back, you’ll go back. And if you want me to go back with you, I will.”

  Her cheeks warmed, and Ross turned to go. She slipped out of his jacket.

  “Wait, take this with you.”

  Ross nodded toward Jake. “Give it to him. He doesn’t look so good.”

  Jake sat close to the fire, hugging his arms around his chest and shivering.

  She walked over and dropped the jacket across his shoulders. Then she sank down a few feet away. As she stared into the flames, an urge kindled inside her. A gnawing feeling, like hunger … or more like an itch. She scooted closer to the woodpile, feeding a couple sticks into the fire.

  “Doctor?”

  Jake had put on the jacket, and he was staring at her bracelet in the palm of his hand.

  “Yeah?”

  “Back on the boat, when I found you upstairs … which of them was with you?”

  Tess poked at the fire.

  “I know it’s not my business,” he continued, “but it’s killing me thinking I was too late. That he had time to hurt you.”

  “It wasn’t like that. I made a choice to try and help Ross.”

  Jake’s expression darkened.

  “Ross came back, and I’m okay.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  Tess tossed her stick into the fire. “I don’t know.”

  “Come and sit next to me. I promise not to ask you any more questions.”

  She shook her head. “Not a good idea right now.”

  “Never stopped you before.”

  “As you and Ross like to point out, sometimes I exhibit questionable judgment.”

  Jake watched her as she watched the fire. It wasn’t going to last long. They needed denser wood.

  “Is he pissed at you for leaving? Seems like he’s gone surly. More surly.”

  “I thought you weren’t going to ask me any more questions.”

  Jake patted the floor. “Only if you come sit next to me.”

  She stayed put, and Jake sighed. “He’ll get over it, Doc.”

  “I don’t know, Jake. There can be too much mess between two people, you know? People can have too many flying monkeys in their own heads to let in someone else’s.”

  Jake shook his head, muttering in exasperation, “For the love of God.”

  Tess raised her eyebrows at his tone.

  “Both of you are making problems out of nothing. I couldn’t be with you back on your Earth because I’d kill you. I can’t be with you here because you’d kill me. Those are problems. There’s nothing standing between the two of you but his ridiculous pride and your fucked-up childhood. How long are you going to let him poison your life?”

  She stared at him, confused. “Ross?”

  “Your father.”

  Tess gritted her teeth and looked away. She felt the faint buzz in her limbs that always warned her the tremors were coming. They’d started when she was seven, while her mother was in the hospital. Got worse when she was a teenager, when the psychologists asked questions about her father. Had the bastard ever worried she’d tell them about him? Probably not. He knew she was terrified of him.

  She closed her eyes. Don’t dislocate. Not now.

  “He was a prick,” said Jake, softening. “Nothing can change that. But you’re all grown up now. He can only hurt you if you let him.”

  Her father would go out late and come home drunk. She’d hear the creak of his foot on the bottom stair, and she’d pretend to be asleep. She’d been in college a year before she could fall asleep without shaking. Mostly because she stayed up studying until her eyes closed themselves.

  “You don’t know anything about it,” she whispered.

  But he did. He’d been in her head too.

  “I’m sorry.” Jake’s voice was tight with emotion. “But you want to know what I think? The Fed is just trying to hold it together so he can take care of you. It’s what he’s been doing since the day I met you.”

  She raised her chin and looked him in the eye. “Why should he do that? I don’t want him sacrificing for me.”

  Jake blew out an exasperated breath. “You are in serious denial, Doc. What you’re really afraid of is that you’ll let him bring you back to life, and then he’ll reject you. That’s life, sweetheart. That’s love.”

  FLAILING

  * * *

  There is no happiness in love, except at the end of an English novel.

  —Anthony Trollope

  * * *

  ROSS WAS barely holding it together and he knew it.

  How was he going to get them out of this? Little of his training or experience was of use to them. He had no weapon to fight the threats they faced. Nothing but his instincts, and Tess’s, to guide him. His instincts were better than most people’s—he’d come to accept that after discovering Tess’s hiding place based on what he could only call a vision. But he was in way over his head.

  And that was only the surface layer of problems. Even if Tess did manage to take them all home, Garcia was waiting. How could he turn her over to the Bureau after what she’d done for him? How could he not?

  What she’d done for him. He clenched his teeth against the memory. It was his job to protect her. What would have become of him if she hadn’t done what she’d done? Even if every other obstacle between them magically smoothed, this one would remain. How could he ever forgive himself for what had happened to her on that boat?

  It shouldn’t have gone down the way it did. If she’d only given him more time to regain his strength, so he could fight his own battle. Hell, if she’d only given him a chance back at the institute instead of taking off like that, so his hand was forced. He was furious with her.

  He was furious with himself.

  He walked back to the ruin with his bundle of sticks. Gathering them was a waste of time—they’d burn through th
em in no time. He’d taken the time away from Tess and Jake in hope of clearing his head. But his thoughts were more tangled now than when he’d left.

  Tess and Jake sat warming themselves by the fire. The air was charged with tension, like they’d been arguing.

  Good, he thought. Let Jake be the bad guy for a while.

  Tess lifted her head as he walked in, smiling thinly before looking away.

  As Ross drew closer to the fire, he smacked up against his need to feed. How could Tess stand to be so close to Jake? How had Jake stood it—both needing to feed on Tess and wanting her? He caught himself wondering whether Tess wanted Jake that way before deleting the question like a corrupted file.

  He dumped his bundle and fished out three sticks, propping them in the fire. When the ends caught enough to stay lit, he grabbed them and headed for the cellar.

  Tess got up to follow, but he called, “Stay in here where it’s warm. I’ll be back.”

  “Keep the fire going,” she told Jake, ignoring Ross.

  “Where are you going?”

  “There’s a cellar. Ross is going to check it out.”

  “Doc?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Sorry I was a jerk. It’s none of my business.”

  “You’re right, it’s not. But I can’t seem to stay mad at you.”

  Ross could hear the grin in Jake’s voice as he replied, “Probably shouldn’t have told me that.”

  “I regret it already.”

  Easy as that, Jake and Tess were friends again. Sorry I was a jerk. Jake didn’t have a copyright on the words; he just had balls enough to say them.

  Tess followed Ross into the adjacent room. “Do we really have to do this?”

  “Me, not we,” he corrected. He met her anxious gaze. “I just want to see what’s down there. Food and blankets will make it worth getting a little wet.”

  She nodded and stared bleakly into the hole. “Please be careful.”

  He started down with his makeshift torch. He tested each step before resting his weight on it, balancing caution with the need to have at least a quick look around before his light went out.

  “Tess,” he called, eyes straining in the spider blackness.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can you light some more wood, in case these go out?”

  “Sure.”

  His eyes adjusted, and he could see where the steps dipped below the waterline. His skin prickled in anticipation, and he reminded himself it couldn’t be more than a few feet deep. He took the next step, scanning a wall of shelves to his right, and the wood beneath his feet buckled. His legs went out from under him.

  He shouted a curse as he splashed into the cold water. He scrambled to right himself, but his head dunked all the way under before his feet struck the floor. He swallowed a mouthful of gritty saltwater.

  “Ross!” cried Tess.

  “I’m okay,” he called, spitting the foulness out of his mouth.

  His torch was gone. He couldn’t see anything but the stairs behind him. He swept out his arms, feeling for a wall or anything to help orient him.

  Ross heard a loud creak and turned. Tess was making her way down the stairs holding more burning wood. He could see her face clearly—she was terrified.

  He opened his mouth to stop her, but he needed the light. And he was man enough to admit he didn’t want to be down here alone.

  “Wait there,” he warned before she took the step above the one he’d broken. “The bottom ones are rotted.”

  Ross sloshed through thigh-deep water around the side of the staircase and reached for the bundle of sticks. Then he turned and took a good look around.

  “Here, Doc.” Jake joined them. He handed another torch down to Tess.

  Shelves lined the wall that ran alongside the staircase. Ross moved closer, holding out his light. Cases of bottled water. Four whole shelves of canned food.

  “Jackpot,” he said. “Food and water, all sealed.”

  “Thank God.” Tess sighed.

  Ross gripped the edge of a large plastic tub and pulled it toward him, rattling the contents. He peeled up the lid, and it popped open with a whoosh of air. Peering inside he saw flashlights, cooking utensils, and a first aid kit—all of it dry. He grabbed one of the flashlights and discovered it had a hand-crank for charging. He cranked a couple dozen times and flicked the switch. It sent out a weak stream of light, and Tess gave a murmur of relief. Ross dropped his burning sticks in the water, where they extinguished with a hiss.

  He sloshed back and handed the crate up to Tess.

  “Empty everything out of this and send Jake back down with the box.”

  Ross inventoried a second set of shelves, which contained an assortment of camping gear—most critical, sleeping bags and a tent. One container had leaked, ruining the two bags inside. But there were other containers with two dry bags and a stack of blankets.

  He crossed to the opposite wall, moving slowly to avoid stumbling over the debris that littered the bottom, and found a rack holding hundreds of wine bottles. He waded farther into the room, freezing when he saw movement.

  As the surface of the water stilled, the movement did too. Ross swallowed drily and took a cautious step forward—the movement started again.

  He pressed on, sweeping his light as he walked. Finally he let out a chuckle of relief. Wooden wine barrels. Oak, most likely—hardwood. It would burn slower. He grabbed one and pushed it back toward the stairs. Jake was waiting with the empty box, and he traded him for the barrel. He hauled out the rest of the empty barrels—fifteen in all—and then headed back down for a more thorough look at the far end of the room. While retrieving the barrels he’d bumped against something else floating that was more level with the surface.

  There were four of these partially submerged objects, all about five feet in length. This was something Ross had seen before, but the hair stood up on the back of his neck anyway. There was no smell of decay—the water was cold and salty. He wondered whether they’d been unaware of the flood danger, or if the smoke had gotten them. He wondered how many other basements had been turned into tombs by fire, flood, or starvation.

  Hallways branched off to the right and left at the back of the room. Ross waded a few yards into each, far enough to ascertain both were lined with more barrels. Some empty, some heavy with wine.

  His inspection complete, Ross worked with Jake and Tess to transport up food, water, and supplies. He hoped they’d be gone before they went through it all—he didn’t want to have to come down here again. He especially didn’t want anyone else to have to come down here.

  When Ross emerged, he searched through the rubble for a stone heavy enough to break up the wine barrels. He found one roughly the size of a soccer ball, mortar still clinging to one side, and bent to lift it.

  He couldn’t shift it an inch. He tried again, and this time his fingers slipped into the stone.

  “What the hell?” he cried, yanking his hand back. The surface of the stone caught weirdly at the tips of his fingers, and Ross looked at them, expecting to see blood.

  “Looks like you haven’t got enough juice for something that heavy, G-man,” said Jake.

  Jake came over and lifted the stone. He hefted it shoulder height and brought it down on the wet side of one of the barrels. The rotted wood crumbled under the rock, and he had an easy enough time breaking it up from there.

  The guy was stronger than he looked. Tess stood watching him work, and Ross couldn’t help speculating about what she was seeing. To Ross he looked scruffy and underfed, even with muscles bulging under the weight of the rock. But maybe that passed for sexy in Seattle.

  Ross glanced again at Tess, but now her eyes were on him.

  Jake stood up, panting, and leveled his gaze at Ross. “It’s time, tough guy. I’ve been where you are, and I promise you’re going to go downhill fast.”

  “He’s right,” said Tess. “Come over to the fire. You must be freezing.”

  Tess picked up a ta
rp from the pile of supplies and spread it close to the fire.

  “Go on,” said Jake, moving close.

  Ross staggered back a few steps. His body fought him, straining toward what it needed.

  Jake glowered at him. “I can’t figure out if you want to be a hero, or if you’re trying to punish her, but either way it’s starting to piss me off. Sit your ass down and let’s get this over with.”

  Ross moved away from him, horrified by the violence of his own need. Hard as it was for him to be close to Tess right now, being close to Jake was harder.

  He moved to the tarp and sank down. Tess knelt beside him, tossing more charred vines onto the fire, and he reached for her wrist.

  She flinched and tugged at her arm, and he thought of the other times he’d grabbed her like this. It was a reflex, usually a protective one, but there was always a fleeting expression of panic. He thought about her father and felt like an asshole.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly, opening his hand but letting his thumb rub over her wrist. “That’s a bad habit. Just be still for a minute so I can talk to you.”

  She sank beside him, eyes settling on his face. “Ross, if we wait too long it’ll be dangerous. You’ll risk us all. You might kill him, and then we’re as good as dead too. You understand that, don’t you?”

  “I do. But I think you know that trying to keep us both alive will probably kill him too.”

  Tess nodded. “I know. We have to go home as soon as possible. But until I can figure it out, we need to alt—”

  “You’re the one we have to keep strong.”

  She frowned. “I won’t let you fade.”

  “If it comes to that, that’s exactly what you’re going to do. Don’t fight with me about this. You’ve risked enough for me al—”

  “I didn’t throw myself at that drug dealer so you could throw your life away!”

  The furies howled in his ears. His chest tightened until he couldn’t breathe. “You don’t need to punish me. I’ve done enough of that for both of us.”

  “I’m not trying to punish you, you pigheaded son of a bitch! I’m trying to keep you alive.”