“What in the hell were you trying to do back there?” Sharon is not hiding her anger. “You’re right you should be sorry! You may have gotten my son killed! Now get out of the way!” Mandi doesn’t move, saying I’m sorry over and over again. Sharon grabs her by the arm and lifts her from where she kneels on the edge of the pool. “Damn it to hell! Get out of the way!” She shoves her and Mandi stumbles and falls away. Sharon takes her place. “Let’s lift him out a ways so I can get his jacket and shirt off,” she says to me.
We battle with the wet clothes until his wound is exposed. “Do we have another light?” Matt’s disappeared in the lake. “Mandi!” Sharon yells. “Do you have a flashlight?”
I look up at Mandi where she still lies. She is shaking her head but not saying anything. “No, she doesn’t,” I tell Sharon. “But I can see.”
“It feels like at least one rib was shattered. Is that correct?”
“I think there are two.”
“Does it look like he was shot in the stomach?”
I look, pour a handful of water over it and touch it gently. “No. I don’t think so. The bleeding is slow, not gushing.”
She runs her hands around the wound and then around his back. “I think the bullet passed through, though there may be fragments in there. I need to bind him up, get a pain killer in him, and then get him out of here and into an urgent care center.” She struggles out of her pack and starts pulling zippers. “The first two I can do. How are we going to get out of here and to medical care?”
I don’t tell her I have no idea.
“Damn! I had a flashlight all along. I’d forgotten. Where the hell is my head?” She flips a switch on the fat little flashlight she used when she worked on Edik, analyzes the wound, mutters a curse, and then goes to work.
I’m huddled in front of the hot air intake trying to dry myself and Matt’s clothes. It’s been better than three hours since our ordeal in the frigid lake. Matt is awake but not fully alert. The pain killer Sharon gave him has taken effect. He lies half in and half out of the hot water with Sharon’s coat under his back and Mandi’s coat covering him. Sharon let Mandi back into the circle and she now sits with him, holding his hand. Even in his delirium he seems to be aware of her, comforted by her touch. She has said nothing since Sharon’s tongue lashing. I worry about her as much as Matt, remembering her suicide attempt on Christmas Day. They’ve only known each other a few days, yet they need each other to stay alive. The death of one could very well mean the death of the other. I think maybe Sharon knows that, the reason she asked Mandi to help by sitting with him. I understand now that it is only to save her son, that once he is out of here and mended she will cast Mandi away.
Sharon sits on his other side, her head on her knees. Should I be worried about her as well? She is strong, very strong, but if she loses him, will she hold it all together, or will she turn on Mandi? Right now, though, I need to put those concerns aside because there is a much higher priority, and it sits heavily in my lap. We have to get out of here.
I hold both of Matt’s boots up to the warm air and consider the options. Option 1: Sharon’s vehicle sits two miles east over relatively easy terrain. Between here and there are a half dozen angry men with guns. They also, I venture to guess, have their own vehicle parked near Sharon’s. If the sheriff is smart he has sent one of his men there to keep watch for us. Option 2: The closest civilization on foot is to the west, away from the angry men; however, it is some ten miles of very questionable terrain, impassable for Matt with a bullet hole and shattered ribs. Option 3: One stays with Matt and the other two take off West for help; find a phone and call the FBI. There is no way we could trust any of the locals. Who knows who else besides the sheriff is getting his pockets lined. Sharon and Mandi would fight over who stays. It is logical that Mandi go with me and Sharon stay with her son. On the other hand, Sharon is the stronger of the two and would fare better on foot across the mountains. That’s not saying that Mandi wouldn’t make it, she is a hiker, but Sharon is mentally tougher . . . mother strong.
Like my mother who gave the absolute ultimate for her daughter.
But not like Mandi’s mother who took the side of her new husband, took the side of Mandi’s stepfather. How could a mother do that? How could she not see?
And then a blast of cold air hits me in the brain. Out of nowhere, in the middle of trying to figure out how to save our raggedy bunch, it comes to me. Mandi’s mother did what she thought was the only answer, making what was for her the ultimate sacrifice. She sent her daughter away, not from her, but from him. She gave up her daughter to save her. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, and I’m sure it was an agonizing decision, but it was the only option she thought she had. Does she have any idea what she has done to her daughter?
Leaving Matt’s clothes, I stand and walk down to the water’s edge. Thirty or forty feet below the surface rests my mother. She, too, sent her daughter away, saying that she was too weak to make it, and then to ensure that I would not be hurt by the monster, Victor Vandermill, conspired with Samantha to sacrifice their own lives to take his. Does she have any idea what she has done to her daughter, to her entire family? What would she think if she knew that it wasn’t over, that Vandermill’s legacy still haunts us, still threatens all of us, that it was all for nothing?
“When will it end?”
“Who’re you talking to?” Sharon edges up next to me.
I didn’t know I had spoken out loud. I shake off the flash of embarrassment. “My mother. She’s down there.” We stand together in silence for several minutes, both of us staring down at the water. “How is Matt?”
“Better. He’ll make it fine as long we can get him to a hospital. He can walk, but not with the pain killer I’ve given him. Without the pain killer he wouldn’t make it very far. He needs to be lifted out by helicopter.” I run the third option through my head, but don’t say anything. She looks across the lake to the far side. “What do you think they’re doing?”
“I don’t know. Looking for another pilot maybe.”
“Do you think they’ll write us off, assume we’re dead?”
“I have twice escaped them by this route so they know there’s a back way out.”
“Where is that by the way?”
I point. “Up past where the hot air comes in. There’s a passage that takes us out onto a ledge. From there we climb up on top to where the creek is,” I point to the water falling from the ceiling, “where it dumps into here.”
She stares at the cascading water for a time. “They’re probably looking for us then, looking for the back door.”
“Yes. I think that’s why they quit so suddenly. I’ve gotten away twice so he figured if he scrambled he’d be able to catch us coming out somewhere; probably has his men stationed all around this mountain, searching for the exit. It is hard to find from the outside, though. Roma is guarding it so I’ll know if they get close.”
“Where are the rest of the cats?”
I take a deep breath. “I don’t know. That has me worried. They know now not to be seen because to be seen is to be shot. Because of the way they hunt it makes it hard for them.”
“How do you mean?”
“They hunt in pairs. One to distract, one to attack. The one that distracts does so by showing himself, not the thing to do with humans carrying guns. They know that now, but haven’t figured out a different strategy.”
“They’re hunting method is very instinctive.”
“Yes.”
She turns and looks toward Tricia with her big eyes still alert in the dark. “What’s with the one over there?”
“That’s Tricia. She’s dying of old age. This is her final resting place.”
“Old age! Can’t be.”
“Something about using old cells when Vandermill’s people did the cloning. She was one of the first. Sam’s theory was that with each generation their life spans would get shorter and shorter until they would go extinct again.”
/>
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I. I think she was wrong. I believe they only needed to get past those first few generations, and then everything would fall in order and they would thrive.”
“Unless man intervenes.”
“Exactly. You asked where the rest of them are. My guess is that right now they are gathering around Nadia and the kittens. Nadia is the only female, except for the kittens which I think are both female. The males know this and know that they have to protect them at all costs.”
“At all costs?”
“To the death, yes.”
Sharon considers that for a few seconds. “I doubt Dan will give up and go away.”
“Not a chance. There is way too much money riding on this.”
“And if I know men, too much pride.”
I turn from Tricia and look back down into the lake, into the face of my mother. “They will kill and die until the last man . . . or cat is standing.”
Chapter 48
“How do you do that?” Sharon asks.
“Do what?”
“Control the sabre-toothed cats.”
“I don’t know. At first it was like pantomiming.”
“Pantomiming?”
“Yeah. I made mental pictures and sent them. After a while, though, it changed. Now it's like there is a translator in between us. I think the translator converts it into cat language, and they do it.”
“They do it because . . ?”
“You’re wondering why they take orders from a human. That is one humongous question, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. That and the telepathic thing. That’s the part that . . . well, I don’t understand. Can you do it with other animals, and have you always been able to?”
“It started when I turned seventeen a year ago. I don’t know if I can do it with other animals.”
“At seventeen you started talking to sabre-toothed cats?”
“Ah . . . well, no. Not exactly. The animal talking part didn’t show up until after I came here and met Sam.”
“The animal talking part? There’s another part?”
“There are several other parts.”
“Oh!”
How did this conversation get to here?
“Like what?”
“You really don’t want to know.”
“Or you’d rather not tell me, would rather I don’t know.”
I don’t really want to talk about my human mind reading and foretelling of death, nor about my empathy for the pain of deer. I sit down on the water’s edge. Sharon does as well. “I’m already a world class freak to you. Why make it worse?”
“What gives you the idea I think that you’re a world class freak?”
“I . . . heard you say it to Matt.”
“I never said any such thing.”
I turn my head and look at her. She’s right; she didn’t say it to Matt. “Oh.” I look away.
Seconds tick by before she says, “I admit that I thought it. I never said it.”
I continue to stare at the reflection of light across the surface of the water.
“You read my mind, didn’t you?”
What’s the point of denying?
“Not only can you read these cats, but you can read people, too.”
“Not all people,” I correct. “Only those who are open.”
“Like me.”
“Yes, like you.” I pull my fingers through my hair. She patiently waits for more, only slightly upset because I violated her thoughts. “Some people have a barrier around them, like a force field through which I can’t penetrate.”
“You penetrated my mind without my permission.”
“No! I didn’t. It’s like you transmitted it.”
“Yeah, right!”
“Really! I don’t like reading people’s thoughts. It’s yucky. It’s scary. Sometimes it pops out anyway, without my asking for it.”
The silence hangs in the darkness. “Are you reading my thoughts now?”
“No. Like I said, it’s yucky. I never know what I’m going to get. I only do it when it is absolutely necessary.”
“Like when?”
“I did it with Sheriff Dan to find out who he had called in Fort Worth to have my sister killed.”
“No one else.”
“No.”
“Not even Matt.”
I turn my head and look at her. “What are you getting at? No! Not even Matt. Besides, he has a barrier.”
“That’s not what he told me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Last summer.”
“You already knew?” I turn my face back to the lake. “Things were different then. There was a lot of stress. He was scared. Maybe because of all the stress and fear, his barrier was gone. We were all doing whatever we had to do to survive.”
“I understand.”
“At the same time I was discovering my new powers, trying to get a handle on what was happening to me.”
She leans forward as though to whisper her secrets. “When Matt came home from the hospital, I didn’t think he’d ever recover . . . mentally that is. He watched his father get murdered and he was a mess. I was a mess. His brothers were with me for a while, but they had their own lives and jobs to get back to, so by the first of August it was just the two of us. I was concerned that he wouldn’t return to college and at the same time scared that he would. In the end he didn’t and it turned out to be the best thing. We needed each other to heal. He had to become strong for me, and I had to find strength for him. I also needed his help in getting the new clinic up and running, the one thing that kept us both going.”
She pauses for a long time. I wonder why she is telling me all this. Is there some point she is trying to get to? I don’t say anything. She looks over at Mandi, Matt’s head in her lap, and lowers her voice. “Can she hear us, do you think?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
Without bringing her voice back up she says, “It’s only been a year, ten months for that matter, but do you know what has really done it for him, what has accelerated his healing?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. “It wasn’t me standing strong for him, though God knows I tried. And it wasn’t the counseling I talked him into going to with me.”
She stares at me until I feel compelled to break the silence and ask. “What did it?”
“You.”
My head snaps back to her. “What?”
“You. You were there for him in his darkest time after he watched his father get murdered, at the time of his greatest need. His words, not mine. You took care of him, watched over him, protected him and understood him, and then at the very end you saved his life, finding tremendous strength to persevere even after watching your mother die. He fixated on you and your strength, your power over the animals, calling you at one time, his savior.”
I look over at him and then bring my shocked gaze back to her.
“And somewhere in those ten months he fell in love with you.”
“But he and . . .”
“Mandi? That’s a problem. He likes her, but that’s as far as it goes. It is she who is infatuated with him. He is trying to be strong for her like you did for him, but it is you who has his heart.”
I’m flabbergasted. That wasn’t how I was reading it.
“I can meddle in it, but I’ve learned, after his two older brothers, that to do so only makes matters worse. Young men are going to do what young men do. Under the circumstances I thought it would only be fair if you knew.”
“So that I can what?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
It flows off her aura like fog off of dry ice. I wait for her to say it. I don’t have to wait long.
“He’s not right for you.”
So much for not meddling. “Really! You forget who I am. You’re not thinking that he is not right for me. You’re thinking that I am not right for him. You’re afraid that this . . . this . . .” I can’t say the L word, “
thing he has for me will turn into marriage and you’ll have to treat me as family. You don’t want another freak in your family.”
She opens her mouth and then closes it.
“Your oldest son has already married a freak. Something about tattoos and body piercing. The other one’s girlfriend has gotten him into smoking marijuana, and who knows what else. Add me into the mix and you’ve got yourself a trio of witches—your thoughts, not mine—for daughter-in-laws, a full brag package.”
She opens and closes her mouth again, locks her jaw, and then gets up and goes back to sit next to her son. I return my face to the lake.
Did I just screw up again, Mom? First I tell her I only read minds when it is absolutely necessary, and then I turn around and read hers. Was that necessary? She hangs it out there for any amateur mind reader to see. It’s not like I had to work very hard at it. And she didn’t have to come over and tell me all that crap. She could have saved it until we got out of here. Why now?
And why did I have to open my big fat mouth? I have no desire to marry Matt, no way in hell, although I have had an urge to jump his bones. What’s that all about? Would I have had the guts to say that to you a year ago, Mom? Probably not. You would have probably died from a heart attack.
So . . . Matt is in love with me, I’m in lust for him, Mandi has gone gaga, and Sharon wants nothing to do with either of us. How much more crazy can this whole thing get, and what can I do about any of it? Wish you could give me advice, Mom.
I return to my clothes drying duties.
Chapter 49
When Matt’s clothes are dry I carry them to the pool and plop them down. Sharon is sitting cross-legged with her head in her hands. Matt is stretched out asleep on his back on Sharon and Mandi’s jackets, under the influence of the pain killer. Mandi’s extra sweatshirt is draped over his private parts; a pair of her socks cover his feet. It is very warm in this chamber so there isn’t much need for anything else.
Mandi flashes the light on the clothes and then over at Sharon. She is wondering who is going to dress him. I don’t care as long as it isn’t me. Since the conversation with Sharon my feelings have changed. I don’t want to jump Matt’s bones anymore. I don’t even have a desire to touch him. I have grown emotionally cold and angry . . . angry with Sharon for telling me about Matt’s feelings for me, angry with Matt for having feelings for me and never calling or emailing me, angry with the sabre-toothed cats for dragging me back up here, and red-hot angry with Sheriff Dan and his men. I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to be the sabre-tooth goddess or whatever the hell I am. I just want to end this whole thing so that I can go back to Bozeman and hideaway in my new bedroom. I want to be normal.
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