Echo 8

by Sharon Lynn Fisher

  “Maybe you can find Abby,” said Tess. They’d wrapped up together in the blankets so Jake and Goff could use the sleeping bags. She felt safe pressed up against him, his warm breath in her ear. “I know she’ll help us.”

  “The Bureau will be watching her,” Ross reminded her. The low voice directly in her ear threw kindling on a fire that had never fully gone out. She squirmed her backside closer, and he gave a quiet groan.

  “They may be too busy if the story’s been broken. We have to start somewhere.”

  “I’m thinking I want to start right here.” His hand slipped around to press between her legs.

  “Ross!” She laughed. “We’re not alone. And besides that we have to conserve energy.”

  “I have an idea. Stop talking. Stop squirming. Problem solved.”

  * * *

  “Hey, G, I think you better come out here.”

  Ross and Tess were the last out of bed. They untangled themselves from the blankets, mumbling a greeting to Goff and two of the men from Eva’s party. Ross grabbed a bottle of water, and they all went outside to see what Jake wanted.

  He and Eva were standing together, eyes on the hillside to the north, watching half a dozen figures descending toward them. About a dozen more crested the hill and started down after the others.

  “More survivors?” suggested Eva.

  “Maybe,” said Ross. Tess didn’t like the doubt in his voice. Sometimes he knew things she didn’t. “Could be trouble,” he continued. “Do you have weapons?”

  “We like to try talking first.” Tess noted the disapproval in Eva’s tone and flashed back to the conversation she’d had with Ross on the patio at Seattle Psi, when he’d suggested she learn to use a gun.

  “They’re coming fast,” warned Tom.

  Despite Eva’s scolding, blades appeared in the hands of her companions.

  Tess’s heart gave a thump of warning as one figure moved out ahead of the others.

  “Just like a bad fucking penny,” muttered Jake.

  NEW FRIENDS, OLD FOES

  * * *

  Over the years, Kalakala workers say, they have heard footsteps aboard the famous, rusty ferry berthed on Lake Union and given chase in search of intruders—only to find the boat locked and vacant. Recently, a team of amateur ghost hunters boarded the boat with electromagnetic field probes and infrared cameras. They say they found … something.

  —“Kalakala’s Table Set for Unseen Guest,” Seattle Post-Intelligencer, February 13, 2002

  * * *

  “GO INSIDE,” said Ross, knowing it was a waste of breath but hoping it would earn him compliance on the more critical request.

  “Not a chance,” Tess replied. “They may need us.”

  “Fine. But promise me you won’t touch him. Not for any reason.”

  He fixed his gaze on her and added, “Please, Tess.”

  Her eyes moved over his face. “I promise.”

  “Is he one of yours?” asked Eva.

  “One of yours,” said Ross. “But he’s dangerous. He can dislocate.”

  “But mostly he’s just a psychopath,” added Jake. “Don’t believe anything he says.”

  “Everybody just stay calm and stay put,” Mac called as he approached. Maggie, the redhead from the Kalakala, had drawn up beside him.

  They were a ragged bunch, but here and there Ross caught the glint of something shiny and new—like the knives most of them seemed to be carrying.

  Eva and the dark-bearded man had taken a few steps toward the newcomers. Mac stopped in front of them, holding a pistol in plain view.

  “What do you want?” Eva bristled.

  Mac sized her up with a surprised chuckle. “You’re not who I thought you were.”

  His gaze ran over the rest of her group, eyes coming to rest on Tess and Ross.

  “You don’t belong here,” he said, raising the pistol. “You can go home or I can shoot you. Your choice.”

  “I hear you made it back to our Earth after all,” said Ross.

  “Thanks to the doctor,” said Mac. “We had a few disappear like that on the Kalakala, but they never came back. A dozen feet above the pre-asteroid sea level probably wasn’t an ideal spot for dislocation. It took me some time to piece it together. Doubt I ever would have if it hadn’t been for all the quality time with your girlfriend.”

  Ross’s stomach wrenched. This is what he’s good at. Don’t let him get to you.

  “That’s handy,” said Ross. “A man who disappears and reappears with goodies for the kids probably makes lots of friends. Do they know about the deal you made with Garcia?”

  “You’re not as stupid as I thought,” replied Mac. But he turned his focus to Tess. “You’re welcome to stay, Doctor. I’d like to know you better. But I don’t want to be watching my back all the time, so the asshole has to go.”

  Tess moved closer to Ross, pressing against his side.

  “I wonder what makes you so afraid of me,” said Ross. “Worried your new friends will find out the truth about you?”

  Mac nodded at Maggie, and she directed his followers to spread out and surround them.

  “This is your last chance, Agent McGinnis.”

  Ross pressed a hand against Tess’s back to shift her to one side, and he could feel her trembling. Tess had never been afraid of Jake, had dismissed the risks of the transfers, had thumbed her nose at both Ross and the FBI director, but she was afraid of this man.

  Ross was glad Jake hadn’t killed Mac, because he was going to do it.

  “I’m not sure what all this is about,” Eva interrupted, “but it’s a dangerous mistake not to work together. We need each other if we’re going to survive.”

  “I agree completely,” replied Mac. “But you also need a leader who can look out for your interests. That ruin behind you is full of supplies. Food, first aid kits, flashlights. Had your new friends gotten around to telling you about that?”

  “Yeah, actually. And frankly, considering they haven’t waved any guns at us, or threatened to kill anyone, I’m feeling more inclined to trust them.”

  “You expect me to believe if you had a gun you wouldn’t use it to protect your people?” Mac tucked the pistol into his waistband. It was no longer necessary now that his followers had surrounded them.

  “Everyone will be migrating toward the coast, where it’s warmer,” he continued. “It’s hard to know who you can trust. But there’s no reason we can’t work together. Share resources. I have access to tools, seeds, medicine … lots of stuff no longer available here. We can build a community together. Protect ourselves from outside threats.” Mac stared pointedly at Ross.

  “As long as we do what you say, you mean.” Eva was quick, with a hard edge that had probably been an advantage in surviving here.

  “Without a strong leader, there’s going to be inequity,” said Mac. “And bickering over resources. But it’s your decision. You’re free to go if you like.”

  “However, Mr. Strong Leader will be helping himself to our shelter and our resources,” observed Jake. “And yours.”

  Ross leaned and whispered in Tess’s ear, “Stay close to Jake.”

  She eyed him with alarm. “What are you going to do?”

  “For once will you just do what I say?” His fingers rubbed her back, making up for the sting of his words.

  Ross stepped away from her and said in a loud voice, “Maybe you should tell them a little more about yourself, so they know what they’re getting. I think your previous job was…?”

  Mac crossed the distance between them in three short strides and shoved the gun in Ross’s face. “You had your chance, asshole.”

  Mac pulled the trigger, and Tess screamed.

  Ross felt a strange crawling sensation as the bullet passed through his head. He touched the spot with his fingers and looked at them. The hand was clean—and transparent. He’d felt himself fading, but he hadn’t been sure the bullet wouldn’t kill him. He’d placed his faith in the instincts that
had always served him well, and in the little glimpses of the future that Tess had taught him not to fear.

  “Mac’s qualifications for leadership include five years overseeing a huge meth operation,” Ross continued. “He was a drug dealer. And a loan shark. He has almost as much blood on his hands as your asteroid.”

  Mac fired the gun again, and Ross smiled. “You are as stupid as I thought.”

  Ross lunged, and they crashed together to the ground.

  Tess rushed toward them, and Ross shouted at her to stay back. Mac’s consciousness overlapped with his own.

  * * *

  “Get that out of my face,” barked Eva.

  Jake watched Tess Number 2 land a right hook against the jaw of a spear-wielding man easily a foot taller than her.

  The man swung the spear at her, growling with pain, but his aim was way off and she easily bent away from the swipe. She brought her fist down on his extended elbow, and he dropped the spear but managed to land a solid swat against her cheek with the other hand, knocking her down.

  Jake snatched up the spear from the ground, shoving it against the man’s chest. But someone kicked Jake’s knee from behind, and he staggered to the ground. Turning to face his attacker, he found the Kalakala redhead drawing a knife.

  The blade arced out, toward Jake’s face. But another body collided suddenly with Maggie, and the blade swung short.

  Tess’s arms coiled around Maggie, and she wrestled her to the ground. Maggie screeched and flailed against Tess, fighting hard to free herself. Tess’s body, in contrast, was nearly motionless. Maggie wouldn’t escape unless Tess decided to release her—Jake knew only too well.

  “She’s feeding on her?” asked Eva, helping Jake to his feet.

  Professor Goff moved to stand beside them. “Draining her energy.”

  Maggie’s body quieted, the noises in her throat sounding strangled now. Before his eyes—and Eva’s, and those of twenty or so mesmerized onlookers—color, breath, and life drained from her.

  Suddenly Tess broke free, letting Maggie’s wasted body fall away.

  “Is she alive?” asked Eva.

  “Yes,” said Jake, comparing what was left of the redhead to the husks he’d seen. “Though probably not very.” Then louder he added, “If you idiots will disarm and back off, we can take care of her. She might just live.”

  All the observers but Jake, Eva, and Goff backed away until there was a wide buffer of space around Tess.

  Tess’s eyes raked over the crowd. “Forget about Mac,” she said. “He’s a survivor, but he’ll use you. What he’s selling isn’t worth the price. He pays for those supplies and shiny knives with bodies—your bodies. I saw him transport two of you back to my Earth and abandon them there.”

  No one moved or breathed, and Tess’s chin lifted. A breeze teased the ends of her hair, causing that single strand of white to dance around her face.

  “I didn’t have to let her live,” said Tess. “I’ll do the same to any one of you who raises a hand or a weapon against another. If you want to survive, you’ll settle your differences.”

  Tess moved silently away. Bodies parted, making way for her to return to Ross.

  Jake followed with Eva and Goff. The others pressed in around them.

  Mac and Ross were locked in a wrestling hold, rolling over the ground like men had been doing in barrooms and barns for centuries.

  Except these men were bathed in a creepy blue light, and sometimes it looked like it was one man fighting himself.

  * * *

  Tess felt a disturbance in the air beside her, and a man materialized—Patterson, one of the other agents she’d trained in dislocation and remote viewing. He grabbed her arm, and she gave a cry of protest.

  Jake spun toward her, but it was too late. They were already plummeting down the rabbit hole. She struggled against her captor in the tunnel, but he worked an arm around her throat, paralyzing her until her feet struck something harder than earth.

  “We’ve got Dr. Carmichael.”

  The words reached her before her vision had reoriented. Seattle Psi, she assumed, since there was no mistaking Garcia’s voice. But as small circular windows swam in her vision, she realized her mistake. Patterson yanked her to her feet, and her eyes moved around the cavernous ferry compartment.

  A few yards away, near the stairway to the passenger deck, Garcia stood with his gun pressed to her supervisor’s head.

  “Abby!” she cried. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re waiting for Ross,” growled Garcia.

  “We don’t have time for this,” protested Tess in her confusion. “Ross is in trouble.”

  “That’s convenient, but we’ll just wait here for a while to be sure.”

  Tess stared at the Bureau director. His face was drawn and pale. He looked like he hadn’t slept or shaved. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” she asked.

  “I’m sick to death of talking to you, Doctor,” replied Garcia in a tone laced with threat. “We’re going to stand right here, in silence, and wait for Ross.”

  “What happens then?”

  “He’s going to pay for his sins.”

  Finally her brain steadied enough to hook the missing piece. The files. Ross had betrayed the Bureau. It would probably mean the end of Garcia’s career.

  “Go warn him if you want to,” continued Garcia, shoving at Abby’s head with his pistol.

  “Okay!” cried Tess, holding up her hands. “Just take it easy.”

  “Wanted to be sure you’re paying attention. Now I don’t want to hear another word out of either of you.”

  Her heart pounded, and she could feel the dislocation trying to take her. Peeling at her edges. Not yet! Inside her head the brain gremlins were shouting at her.

  You have to get back to Ross!

  You have to help Abby first!

  “What’s that noise?” asked Abby.

  Tess stared at her, wondering whether her boss could hear the gremlins too. But then Tess heard murmuring sounds coming from the stairs that led up to the passenger deck.

  Not murmuring. A woman crying.

  “Who’s there?” called Garcia.

  The crying abruptly broke off.

  “I thought the boat had been cleared,” he barked at Patterson.

  “It was, sir,” said Patterson. “Evers and I did the last sweep, and I secured the door myself.”

  “Obviously you missed someone.” Perspiration beaded on Garcia’s forehead. “This damn ship is a catacomb. Go check it out. You’ll have to take Caufield with you.”

  “Yes, sir.” Patterson tugged Tess’s arm.

  “Sounds like Adelaide to me,” said Abby.

  Adelaide! The hairs on the back of Tess’s neck raised. Abby shot her a meaningful look. Unfortunately Tess was unable to decipher the meaning.

  “Who?” demanded Garcia.

  “A woman who died on this ferry.”

  “Died? When?”

  “In 1940. She shot herself in the women’s lounge.” Abby glanced at the stairs. “Which is on the passenger deck, almost directly overhead.”

  Garcia’s face puckered into an expression of profound irritation. “Are you trying to tell me this ship is haunted?”

  “Few modern parapsychologists believe in ghosts per se,” said Abby. “But we do believe in residual energy. Which is actually more unsettling.”

  Abby was exercising one of her more useful leadership skills—baffling with bullshit. It was true that few scientists in their field believed in literal ghosts, but there was no strong consensus about the cause of ghostly phenomena.

  Garcia’s gaze had shifted to the stairs. He scooted Abby a couple of degrees to the right, away from the sound. “Okay, we’ve got some time to kill. Let’s have it.”

  “A ghost presumably has some form of consciousness, which, even if limited, implies malleability.”

  “Which means…?”

  “They can do things like change their minds. They can forgiv
e. But a particle can’t change its state. An electron is negative forever.”

  “What exactly—”

  A shot rang out directly overhead. Garcia aimed his pistol at the stairs.

  “Watch out!” cried Tess, prompted by instinct.

  Her shout drew Garcia’s gaze her direction, and a blur of something came flying down the stairs, crashing into Garcia and shoving him aside. Abby and the pistol spilled onto the deck.

  The blur had focused and now sprawled across Garcia’s chest. “Is somebody down here talking shit about electrons?”

  “Jake!”

  She felt Patterson’s fingers grip her arm, and she reached for the light.

  As they swooped together into the tunnel he tried to release her, but she caught hold of his shirt. They shot out at the end, rolling onto a rocky ledge that dug into Tess’s back and shoulders. She was disoriented at first—mist rained down over her face, and there seemed to be little rainbows everywhere.

  The agent beside her scrambled to his feet. He closed his eyes.

  He’s going! Stop him!

  She bounded from the ground and gave him a shove. He caught at her sleeve, jerking her toward the edge, and she gave a yelp of fear. But as he dropped away he lost his grip on the damp fleece, and down he went. Into the swirling chaos of Snoqualmie Falls.

  Cries of shock drifted down from the observation point.

  She turned away from the edge and dislocated back to the Kalakala.

  “Tess!” cried Abby. “Are you okay?”

  She flew at the older woman, throwing her arms around her. “I’m okay.”

  “Are we saving this for anything?” groaned Jake, still locked in an energy transfer with Garcia. The director struggled against Jake, increasing the flow.

  Tess bit her lip. She tried to think if there was any other way. But the man had proved he didn’t give up. “You’ll have to finish him, Jake,” she replied softly. “Otherwise, he’s just going to come after us again.”