by Rysa Walker
Baker being here shouldn’t put me on edge. Daniel trusts him. But my face has been pasted all over the news as a “person of interest” since last October. Plus, this taps into old anxieties. Deo and I spent a few weeks on the streets. There may have been one occasion where I failed to pay for peanut butter and a loaf of bread when we were desperate, and we were always worried about being picked up and hauled back to the place we’d taken great pains to escape. Fear is an automatic response, even if I haven’t (recently) done anything wrong. Maybe one day I’ll have a nice, peaceful, law-abiding life and my heart won’t start thumping like an unbalanced washing machine whenever I see a police car. But that seems like a pipe dream in the current environment where about a third of the country thinks people like me should be locked away.
Despite the fact that they’re also Delphi adepts, all three Quinn siblings are outside talking to Baker. Not Deo, though. I’m guessing he had the same reaction I did. Maybe this is a good time to talk to him, since we’ll actually have some privacy. For the second time in as many days, he’s going to be pissed at me, and rightfully so.
Deo is in one of the recliners when I enter the RV, peeking out the window at the others. He glances up when I walk in and then ignores me, which is pretty much what I expected.
I reach inside the knapsack and pull out the last bagel. It’s now cold and horribly squished. As peace offerings go, it’s pathetic, but it’s all I have.
“You want it as is or toasted?” I ask, holding it out to him.
“Really?” He narrows his eyes but takes the bagel. “You went to Joe’s without me?”
“Believe me, you would not have wanted to be there.”
By the time I finish telling Deo everything that happened, Baker has departed and the others are making their way back inside. The Quinns are arguing before they even reach the door.
“Has it ever occurred to you maybe they’re doing the smart thing and waiting until morning?” Taylor says to Aaron. “You know, so they don’t have to traipse around that abandoned wreckage in the dark? And for the record, Senator Cregg’s house—well, one of them—is right by the golf course maybe a half mile from the Alexandria exit.”
Aaron snorts. “You really think they’d be stupid enough to take Pfeifer to the Senator’s house in broad daylight? Baker said the cop who reported it wasn’t even sure it was the same car. He only got a glimpse of the tag as he passed the exit. By the time he backed up, it was lost in traffic. So yes, it’s possible they had to make a stop first and we’re ahead of them. But it’s also entirely possible the officer misread the tag and they’re halfway to Port Deposit by now.”
“Plus, how long can the doctor hold off reporting he’s lost a patient?” Daniel says. “That’s assuming he’s in on it, which isn’t a given, so alternatively, how long before they find the doctor and those two med techs’ bodies stashed in a closet somewhere? I think they’ll go tonight, if they actually are taking Pfeifer to that lab.”
“It’ll probably be a week before they find those bodies,” Taylor says disdainfully. “You heard Baker. He’s too afraid of losing his job to ask questions about—”
Daniel holds up one hand to cut her off. “Baker has already stuck his neck out enough, Tay. He has three kids. There’s really not much he can do anyway.”
I suspect Daniel is right. Port Deposit is several counties outside Baker’s jurisdiction. Plus, the human-trafficking case they were originally working on when Daniel was on the force was officially closed after The Warren burned down and they were able to neatly pin everything on Lucas and this imaginary WOCAN boogeyman.
But Taylor doesn’t seem to want to let Baker off the hook. “Having three kids didn’t stop Dad from doing the right thing.”
“Yeah, well, Dad had a whole lot more information on Delphi than Baker does,” Aaron says.
“And he was part of the damn program for five years,” Daniel adds. “He felt responsible. You’re just pissed Baker can’t do anything about the . . . evidence . . . in the townhouse. And I get that. I really do. But Anna’s prints are all over the place, including the box.”
“And even if they find Cregg’s prints, he’s dead, so reporting that box would only risk more trouble for Anna . . . for all of us, really.” Aaron shrugs. “Would you really want to upset Porter again?”
“I didn’t mean we should bury it with Molly’s body! Just . . . that we should bury it. Get it out of there.” Taylor turns toward me. “I’m sorry, Anna. I don’t blame you. I’m almost positive I’d have done the same thing if I’d found Cregg’s box of souvenirs. That doesn’t mean I’m happy leaving part of Molly behind. But fine . . . there’s nothing we can do about it right now. Let’s just go.”
“You’re not going,” Daniel says. “Aaron and I will go. The rest of you wait here.”
“We should take Deo,” Aaron says. “I mean, I’ll leave the choice up to him, but we’ll have a better chance of getting Pfeifer out of there with Deo’s amp ability.”
“Maybe we should pull in Sam,” Aaron says. “Porter, too.”
“Hold on,” Taylor says. “Let me get this straight. I’m staying here, when both of you know I can outshoot you?”
Daniel makes a pfft noise.
“When both of you know I can outshoot you,” she repeats. “But you’re going to call in two seventy-year-old men, one of whom had a heart attack last year and the other whose blood pressure puts him at serious risk of stroke?”
“She has a point,” Daniel says reluctantly. “Plus, we need someone to start looking into the whereabouts of Pfeifer’s doctor and the two hospital workers. Sam and Porter aren’t in any shape to be hiking around in those ruins.”
Even though Aaron doesn’t actually say anything, his eyes move to Daniel’s legs.
“I’m fine,” Daniel says angrily. “I got a cramp this afternoon because you were moving too fast. That’s it. And it’s not like I can sit this one out. We don’t know how many people they’ll have with them, and there’s no way you’re going to get Pfeifer out of there by yourself with only a gun and your feminine intuition.”
I’m thinking there’s a really good chance Aaron will take a swing at his brother when Taylor pounds her fist on the RV wall.
“Anna and I are going.”
I shake my head. “You might be an asset. I won’t be. I’ve got enough to worry about just keeping my walls intact. Everyone will be much safer if I wait here.”
“Yeah,” Daniel says. “From what Aaron told me earlier, this isn’t a good time for Anna to be . . . under pressure. So you and Anna stay here. I already asked Baker to tell the state police that we’ve got a mechanical issue with the RV, to justify parking here overnight if necessary.”
Taylor sighs and takes her phone out of her pocket. “We’re going. For one thing, I’m sick of your sexist attitude. Protect the women. Insult Aaron by calling his ability feminine. But all that aside, Anna and I have to go.” She pulls up a text message and hands the phone to Aaron, giving me a look that says something—even though I have no idea what—is all my fault.
“It’s from . . . Stan,” Aaron says as he reads, then scrolls back a bit. I can literally see the moment when he puts the pieces together. “You just let Anna walk out of here last night? Knowing that—”
“We can argue about that later,” she says quickly. “The only thing relevant right now is that Stan says there’s no reason for any of us to go unless Anna goes. Otherwise, her father will end up on the other side, and he’ll be crazy. Crazy strong, too. He’ll have someone named Oksana and maybe three dozen others inside. If Anna goes, it’s roughly even odds you’ll get him to the mountain place, whatever the hell that means.”
“Sounds like a bunch of garbage to me,” Daniel says.
“He says the mountain place?” Aaron asks. When Taylor nods, he scrolls back through the messages. After a moment, he gives her back the phone and sighs, leaning against the pantry door. “I’ve been trying to think of a place to hide Pfeifer
for a while. I just heard back from Beth. Wasn’t even sure if they still owned the house. They were talking about selling it last year.”
Taylor and Daniel seem to follow what Aaron is saying, but Deo and I exchange a clueless look. I do know that Beth Wilcox is the family friend who worked with Delphi. She got sideswiped when she was jogging around the same time Jaden’s mother was the “accidental” victim of a drive-by shooting.
“Stan may have a point,” I say reluctantly. “About my father. He seemed to recognize me, or maybe it’s just that I look like my mother. And Stan’s been right twice now. He knew I had to leave last night, and he saw me stopping Abbott today—”
Aaron’s mouth tightens. “You said you didn’t know their names.”
“I don’t, okay? One tall and thin, the other short and fat. Abbott and Costello. And as I was saying, one of the paths Stan saw—”
“Stan said there’s not a single path where Pfeifer ends up with us unless Anna is at The Warren,” Taylor interrupts impatiently. “And if Pfeifer isn’t with us, we lose. If we stay here, Anna might as well have grabbed the wheel and hurled us off that overpass last night. It would have been a quicker, kinder ending for everyone.”
“Okay, okay.” Daniel holds up one hand. “I need you guys to explain this to me. This Stan kid was at The Warren, but I don’t know what he does. What exactly is a path cluster?”
Taylor launches into the same explanation Stan gave us yesterday. Daniel’s arms are crossed, with the one arched eyebrow that seems to be a Quinn family trait. You’d think, with everything he’s seen, his inner skeptic would have died long ago, but he seems to be hardwired to doubt anything he hasn’t experienced personally.
But he’s kind of right in this case. The underlying problem is that Stan’s visions aren’t definitive. They’re just probabilities. Likelihoods. That makes it harder for any of us to take his advice. I wish we had something more solid to latch on to . . .
Except, we do. Why didn’t I think of it sooner? I motion for Deo to join me in the back of the RV where he and Taylor usually sleep.
“What’s up?” he asks.
I pull the door closed. “I need a hug.”
He gives me a quizzical look and then realizes what I mean. “You sure? You really want to trigger a vision on purpose?”
“Yes. We need some certainty. Stan’s ability is so nebulous. So . . . fuzzy and unlike the glimpses I get from Jaden. Having that vision last night clarified what I needed to do today. I know you and Aaron didn’t like it, but I knew what would happen and followed my instincts to get to that point in time. And it made me realize I’m not really using Jaden’s gift at its full potential. Daniel—and even Taylor and Aaron, to some extent—question Stan’s visions because he has to admit there are other possible paths. But we’ve all seen Jaden’s visions play out in real time. Maybe I’ll see something that can help us.”
“Okay, but I have one question. You were saying just last night we need to take you back to Sandalford. That you don’t need to be involved in this. That was . . . your smart side talking.” He grins slightly at my expression. “You know I’m right. Even if this medicine is having a positive effect, I’m still right. So my question is how much of you wanting to be directly involved in this is simply because he’s your dad?”
“He’s not my dad. He’s my father. Big difference. I don’t even know him. Plus, he killed my mom . . . my mother.”
Deo’s expression makes it clear he caught my stumble. But he doesn’t call me on it. Apparently, I do think of Leah as my mom, and I’m pretty sure it’s not just because she didn’t—to the best of my knowledge—kill anyone. It’s also because I can conceptualize a mom. In my first foster family, the man wasn’t around much. Most of all I remember the woman. And the little Yorkie who liked to lick my hands. Plus, there’s Kelsey, who’s the closest thing to a mom either of us has ever had, including Deo’s still-living mother. I can’t really wrap my head around the concept of a dad, though.
“Like I said before, I’d just as soon stay here. In fact, I’d prefer it. That’s why I need to push a vision—to see if Stan is right that I have to be there. If not . . . then I’ll happily back off. It’s a long shot I’ll even see anything relevant, but it’s worth a try, right?”
“Okay,” he says. “I guess you get a hug. With one condition.”
“You’re putting conditions on your hugs now? We’re going to have to do something about that ego, kiddo.”
“Not joking, Anna. The condition is that you tell me exactly what the vision is. Not just the bits and pieces that are convenient or that you think keep me safe. Everything. The condition is that you trust me so we’re actually in this together, the way it used to be.”
I give him a doubtful look. “I’m not sure you know what you’re asking. If I see something that deals directly with you and I tell you about it, you can’t change it. You’re going to feel yourself doing things that make no sense.”
He stares at me, not budging.
“Okay, fine. I’ll give you the freaking play-by-play action.”
“I’m actually going to need you to promise.”
“I promise. But . . .”
He rolls his eyes. “Nope. No buts.”
“I have a condition, too. Mine is that this is between us. I don’t want everyone second-guessing themselves all the time.” I glance toward the living room. They’re talking over each other again to the point where it’s hard to even tell what they’re saying. “Can you imagine how many more arguments that would cause?”
“Yeah. You have a point. I accept your condition. Come get your hug, Short Stuff.”
“Hey, watch it. I can just as easily trigger a vision by punching you. Or tickling you.”
“You’d better not.”
He still smells like ozone, but it’s really nice to be able to hug my brother again, even if it’s only for a second.
nnnnNNNNN
Black. Pitch black. The air is stale, like the townhouse last night, but worse.
At least I know the rungs are solid, not broken. Taylor, Abbott, and Alex have all gone down this way ahead of me. Unless, of course, there are broken rungs and there are three bodies at the bottom of the—
Which is crazy. Taylor’s right below me. I would have heard her scream.
I lower one foot and wrap my arm around the next rung. If the dizzy spell hits, please, please let it be after my feet finally hit the ground.
Something brushes my hand, and I scrub it vigorously against my jeans before taking the next step. Maybe it’s just as well that Taylor forgot the stupid headgear. The four senses operating right now are freaking me out enough without adding sight to the mix.
Just keep moving. Aaron could already be in trouble, and every second we waste is—
NNNNNNNnnnn
“Anna?” Deo is sitting on the floor a few feet away. He gives me a moment, then asks, “So . . . what did you see?”
“Nothing. Don’t give me that look. I literally didn’t see anything. I was going down a ladder in the pitch dark. Couldn’t even hear much. I’m pretty sure I felt a spiderweb on my hand. Taylor was with me. We were . . . following Abbott and someone named Alex. They mentioned him before, some associate of Cregg’s. We were trying to get to Aaron, who might have been in trouble, and . . . that’s seriously all I’ve got.”
“Might have been?”
“I was thinking he might be in trouble. That we needed to hurry. But nothing else.”
“If that’s all you’re seeing, the two of you could be going into a trap. You could get killed.”
“We could. Or we could be the ones who keep Senator Cregg from getting his hands on a very powerful weapon. Because Stan seems to think that will happen, and . . . Deo, I felt how strong the Furies were when they were inside my head. They weren’t the only ones in that room, either.”
“I thought you said that spirits eventually go to their last happy place?”
“That was my experience, yes. Bu
t I don’t know how long it takes. What if they only end up in a happy place when they’re close to moving on? Or what if they go there because it’s close to the things that will help them move on? Maybe everyone killed in that lab can’t move on until they’re sure this is over. Jaden said he felt that to some extent, but . . . he had other things pulling him forward, not simply a need for revenge that pinned him to the past. And you know it doesn’t really matter, right? Taylor and I are going to end up on that ladder one way or another.”
I glance at the door. Things seem to have settled down in the other room. There’s just one voice speaking now—Aaron’s.
Deo follows my gaze and says, “Yeah. They’re going to wonder where we are.”
When we join the others, Aaron is on the phone with Sam. Daniel and Taylor are looking over some maps they’ve spread out on the kitchen counter.
“Aaand . . . Taylor persuaded them all on her own. I’m thinking we just wasted our time.”
I nod, but I don’t really think the time was wasted. I’ve spent the past few months avoiding contact with Deo, dreading the fact that I’ll get another vision. Yes, those flash-forwards are inconvenient. It can also be really frustrating when you know things will happen and you want to change them, but you can’t. Still, they’ve been one of the few sources of certainty we’ve had in the past few months, and I’m beginning to realize they’re much more a gift than a curse. Maybe I need to embrace them instead of pushing them away.
LETTER TO THE EDITOR, EVANSVILLE COURIER & PRESS
April 24, 2020
If you ask most people what they want, deep down, you’ll find they want security. They want their families to be safe. They want to know that when they put money in the bank, it will be there when they need to withdraw it. They want to know our police will keep hardened criminals off the streets and our military will protect our shores from invaders.
And so we lock our doors, lock our vehicles, and lock our places of business. We purchase computer security programs and jealously protect our passwords. We pay taxes to ensure that our lives, our possessions, and those we love are secure.
