Again, that feeling of tangible distance came over her. It was an acute awareness of here and there. It was like she could feel the top of that rise in her mind, as though she were already there in some sense and could touch it. Touch it and pull on it…
There was a sudden rush of air as Erin appeared at the top of the slope and staggered forward. Her foot caught on the edge of the asphalt highway and she staggered once again to her knees. The nausea flooded through her again but she did not retch this time. Her presence of mind was intact enough that she scrambled backwards off the asphalt and onto her butt beside the road.
She twisted and looked behind her. Las Vegas was coming to life in the distance. On the ground at the bottom of the slope there was a darker shadow staining the ground around where she had been. Faint whiffs of bile drifted up to her.
Her mind reeled at what had just happened. Or had it? A part of her was certain that she had finally snapped and lost her grip on reality completely. She had always thought she might, that the life she had lived would catch up to her and steal away her sanity the way Tiko had done her innocence. Again, she pushed away her brother’s memory.
Focus. Keep your head. She nodded at this and rose to her feet. She looked back at the vomit-stained ground again, then across the silent highway. There was just enough light for her to focus on a specific spot that was about five feet past the far edge of the road. She calmed her thoughts and that sense of distance came to her again and for the second time she felt the far distance and pulled.
There was the rush of air again and she staggered but didn’t fall. She spun around and faced behind her. Between her and the edge of the asphalt was five feet of empty, untouched desert sand.
“Oh fuck,” she said. “Ohfuckohfuckohfuck.” She looked up and down the road; there was nothing but the dark and the desert. Anywhere she looked,though, if she calmed her trembling mind, she could feel the far distance. She saw the silhouette of a tall Joshua tree that was at the far edge of her vision and a safe distance from the road. Erin focused on a point to the right of it, relaxed until she felt it, and then pulled.
This time she did not stumble when she appeared. Her stomach twisted, but only a little. To her left was a tall, thick Joshua tree. The panic she had felt was slowly giving way to another feeling. This one brought a small laugh bubbling into her throat. Whatever was happening- what had happened -was worth it if what she was doing was the payoff.
She looked to her left, vanished, and then reappeared on the other side of the Joshua tree. She grinned and laughed some more. Five feet, ten feet, twenty feet- she disappeared and reappeared from place to place like some kind of stuttering, impossible dancer moving to the music of her own wondrous joy. Finally, breathless, she came to rest and fell onto her back on the desert sand. Her laughter had faded but the smile would not leave her face. Above her, the sky opened in a star-filled vista of black and silver sparkle. It was a cloudless night and the moon was full and bright. She lay there for a while, tired but smiling in amazement at the glowing moon. She still thought she might be insane, but if this was what crazy felt like, she’d take it.
Finally, she sat up and looked around again. It was full dark now and the lights of Las Vegas were a heavy glow on the horizon. She thought about trying to teleport- the idea made her laugh again -to the city, but it was much farther than she was ready to try. Still, though, there was plenty of moonlight so she could just get there in a series of short- she wasn’t sure what to call what she did. Jumps? Hops? Pulls? It didn’t matter. She could do a lot of little ones rather than one big one and be in the city in no time.
A light caught her eye farther down the highway. A neon sign blinked near the edge of the highway. It faintly illuminated a large, square structure that seemed strangely familiar to Erin. It would be easy enough to get there and quicker than the city. There was probably a land-line phone that she could use. Despite being a sack full of lying dicks, she figured the people back at Silversky might want to know what had happened to her. Besides, if this is what she was going through, what might be happening to Israel? He hadn’t looked so good when she’d been arguing with Stone.
Yeah, call from an isolated place. Even if the Warburton bitch- Warbitch? -traced the call, Erin would be long gone. Once she was back in Vegas, there was no way they could find her. Even if they did, how could they catch her?
Erin made her decision, focused on the neon sign, and pulled.
As soon as she appeared, she realized that she knew the place. She took a step back from the memory, but that didn’t stop it from rushing over her.
The neon sign was older, buzzing and clicking as it blink the words Rod’s Roadhouse over and over again. She remembered standing under this sign. Remembered listening to the whispered negotiations between Tiko and the trucker. Remembered the cigarette stink of the sleeping cabin in the man’s truck, his flabby, unwashed body over her, on her, and in her. It had been her first trick. She sobbed at the memory just as she had the act.
She wiped the tears from her eyes with quick, fierce motions. Why, of all the places in the world, had she ended up here? What were the odds? Erin didn’t know. Maybe she had just pulled some memory from her mind with that first- what was it? Jump? Pull? She really needed to come up with a name for this. Regardless, maybe it hadn’t been random.
She took a few steadying breaths and looked around. The parking lot was mostly empty. There were a couple of Harley Davidson motorcycles and a long haul Mack Truck with no trailer parked on one side. Back then she’d only gone as far as the parking lot, but if she wanted to contact Silversky she’d have to go in. That suited her. No memories to haunt her there.
She walked to the door and pulled it open with a quick jerk, harder than she’d intended. Anger nipped at her but she tried to ignore it. She just wanted to use the phone and get gone.
There was a small foyer space littered with play bills for all the shows, escort services, and various other vices that Vegas was famous for. Beyond that, the roadhouse was one big open space with a tiny stage. Everything was wood and chrome, from the furniture to the heavy rafters that supported the roof. It smelled of beer, old cigarettes, and the dry dustiness that seemed to permeate the desert. Two tough-looking men in leather biker vests were sitting at the bar talking with the bartender. All three of them were sipping at glasses of brown liquor. They looked up as she entered.
“Well,” the bartender said, “what can I do for you, little lady? Looks like you’ve hit a bad patch of luck.” He smiled easily enough, but Erin didn’t miss the way his eyes assessed her like he was looking over a car he was thinking of buying. Then again, though, she probably looked like hell.
“I need a phone,” she said. “I wrecked my car a few miles back. I need to call my friends. Please?”
The bartender smiled. “Sure, it’s behind the bar. Come on over.” He gestured her toward the far end of the bar, away from the bikers.
Erin walked over to the bar, her feet making hollow thuds along the floor as she moved. She heard the scrape of a chair sliding across wooden planks and one of the bikers say something about the men’s room. She got to the bar and stood facing the bartender. He was older, probably in his forties, and had a lean face and build. His wrinkled nose and cheeks were broken up by the small spider webs of veins that marked him as someone who drank too much and had for many years. He seemed sober enough to Erin at the moment.
“Good lord, little lady,” he said, smiling and showing nicotine-yellow teeth. “You look like you been rode hard and put away wet.”
Erin didn’t miss the tiny smirk at his comment. “Yeah, it was a long walk. Could I use that phone, please?”
His smile changed slightly and his eyes seemed to look past her for just a second. Erin felt a small, familiar chill run the length of her spine. She knew that look. When she glanced over her shoulder, she wasn’t surprised to see the biker who had gotten up walking away from the front door. “Ain’t nobody around, Rick,” he said without
taking his eyes off Erin. “I locked the door.” The other biker had stood up and was leaning against the bar with a hungry leer aimed at her.
Her stomach grew cold. She knew from experience how these things played out. She knew fighting would just make it worse. “Come on, guys. I just need to use the phone,” she said.
The one called Rick said, “Well, now, that can still happen, honey. See, this here’s a business, which means it ain’t a charity. You got to give a little to get a little. Take care of us, we take care of you.”
“Are you kidding me?” she said. “I just come in here for a little fucking help and this is what you do?”
Rick’s grin grew wider. “For starters.”
“Somebody could come in,” she said. She saw the biker leaning on the bar straighten up and finish the rest of his whiskey in one shot. The glass hit the bar with a heavy thunk.
“Honey, don’t nobody come in here but once in a blue moon. Why do you think we’re so lonely?” Rick said.
Erin heard the one who had locked the door getting closer. His steps were a hollow, creaking tolling of what was to come. She froze as memories rushed over her. There had been situations like this before, situations where it wasn’t a choice, when it wasn’t anything but rage and the need to humiliate. What else had it ever been, though? Since that first time with Tiko and then his friends until now with the fucking Progeny and the Warbitch and now these pricks, when had it ever been her choice? Her want? Her need? She was just this thing that people used and put back in the closet when they were done being nasty. She was a toy or- worse -a trash can for human waste and want. She couldn’t even make a fucking phone call without getting trapped.
No. Not trapped. Never trapped again.
She felt the biker’s hand fall onto her shoulder and she spun on him, focusing on a spot just beyond the nearest table by the door. She pushed him away from her and was startled when, instead of pulling toward that spot, the man she had shoved vanished from in front of her and appeared in mid-air above the table. He fell awkwardly and crashed into the table, splintering the thin legs and screaming as one of his knees bent to the side at a sickening angle.
Rick and the other biker both shouted in surprise and took a step back. Erin stared at her hands in bewilderment. After a second, she started to smile.
“What the fuck is this?” the other biker yelled over his companion’s screams. His hand flashed to the small of his back and under his leather vest.
Erin disappeared, reappeared behind him, and shoved him in the back. As soon as she touched him he vanished and rematerialized near the spot she had been focusing on. This time, though, he was six feet above the ground and horizontal, but still positioned as he had been standing, with his feet slightly spread and his hand at the small of his back, the pistol just visible as he drew it. He fell fast and hit hard. A gunshot popped through the bar when he struck the floor. He didn’t get up.
Rick had recovered from his shock enough that he produced a shotgun from under the bar and aimed it at Erin. She saw it just as he squeezed the trigger and she pulled to a spot six feet from where he had fired. Cordite stink filled the air as the shotgun roared and the back of a barstool exploded into splinters.
Rick, to his credit, smoothly worked the slide and brought the barrel around and fired at Erin again, but she was gone again, this time back to the far side of the room. It went like that for three more shots with Rick firing at something that became nothing. Suddenly, she was right beside him. She latched onto his wrist and said, “Rape this, you fucking pig.” Erin focused on the highest point in the center of the room and pushed.
She’d wanted him to fall, like the others had. Instead, he appeared with a sharp wooden crack among the heavy timbers that supported the roof and his body kicked and convulsed for a few seconds before growing still. The whole left side of Rick’s head was fused into one of the rafters and he was dangling there with his head at a twisted angle. His right eye bulged from the socket and was shot through with blood that seemed aimed at Erin. His body twitched madly as the shotgun clattered to the floor. The rafters started bleeding from the cracks around Rick’s ruined face.
Erin stifled a scream and turned away, her hands coming to cover her eyes. Bile rose in her throat but she refused to be sick. It wasn’t that the man was dead. It was just so fucking gross. Erin slid down behind the bar and sat there with the bar hiding the view of the room. It was silent except for the faint creak of wood and a slow dripping sound. There was a full bottle of vodka by her foot that had fallen during the fight. She picked it up, spun off the plastic top, and took a long, deep drink. Tears began to well in her eyes again. She told herself it was from the cheap liquor.
An hour later, Erin stood outside Rod’s Roadhouse watching it burn through drunk eyes. It turned out that the biker who had broken his knee had been unlucky enough to catch a shotgun blast in the side of his head while Rick had been firing at Erin. The other one had apparently shot himself when he fell and died pretty quick. Erin had cleaned out the register and found a couple of cans of lighter fluid behind the bar. It didn’t take long to empty them over the walls and furniture before setting it all alight with a book of matches. It only took a couple of minutes for the long dried wood to become fully engulfed in flame.
She turned her back on the conflagration and faced the distant lights of Las Vegas. There were people there, people who had used her, people who only ever used anyone. She was done with all of them. Tiko was there, though, and she owed him a goodbye if nothing else. Tonight was the night she would clear her account and go her own way. Erin looked back over her shoulder until she could see the heart of the fire. She focused and pushed the bottle into the flames.
A second after that, she was gone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Israel opened his eyes.
He didn’t feel like he’d been sleeping. There was no grogginess to mark a night spent sleeping. He didn’t feel the need to stretch or yawn or any of the other things that he normally associated with any kind of state of unconsciousness. He only felt awareness where there had previously been none.
He sat up and looked around. He was sitting on the floor in a large room free of any furniture or amenities of any sort. Three of the walls were stark white. The fourth was what looked like a thick wall of glass or plexiglass that had dark smears in a few spots. There was a door in the center of the transparent wall, but no visible handle on his side. He groaned when he realized that he had, once again, woken up in a cell. He spent a moment cursing out his frustration and then tried to look beyond the glass wall.
While his cell was well lit, the room beyond was dark. Still, he could see… something. Though there was no light, he could make out the corners of the empty room and the outline of the heavy door on the far wall in misty shades of gray. His curiosity roused, he stepped toward the transparent cell wall and tried to get a closer look at the outer room. He felt something hard underneath his foot and stopped.
Israel looked down and nudged the offending object where he could get a better look at it. His brow wrinkled in confusion when he recognized the thick, white remains of a T-bone steak. Israel picked it up to examine it, but stopped when he got a look at his hands. They were covered in dark smears and smelled of old meat. Tiny bits of dried flesh were stuck beneath his fingernails. He noticed that his shirt was also stained with crimson-gray remains. He looked around the cell and realized there were at least a dozen more bones similar to the one in his hand scattered about.
He tried to shout but it came out weak, as though he had no air to draw on. He took a deep breath and shouted, “Hey! Somebody!”
Only silence replied. He repeated the cry and pushed hard against the transparent door. He was sure it was Plexiglas and at least four inches thick. It didn’t budge.
The door on the other side of the room opened and lights flooded the space beyond the acrylic wall. A man Israel had never seen before came into the room pushing a rolling table with a large flat sc
reen television on it. He wore a starched white lab coat over a white shirt and dark tie with gray slacks. He stopped a few feet from the wall and started rolling out a long cord to plug in the television.
“Hey,” Israel said. “Hey, man, I need some help.”
Lab coat bent over, plugged in the set, and then stood to face Israel. “Yes, sir,” he said. “You do.”
“Can you get me out of here? I need to see Olivia Warburton.”
“Mrs. Warburton and the Twins will be in to speak with you in a moment. In the meantime, sir, try to remain calm.” With that, he left the room closely followed by Israel’s objections.
Israel took another breath and repeated his mantra. “Focus on the question,” he whispered. “Focus on the question.”
He heard the door open and Warburton and Allison came into the room. Michelle came in last and sealed the door behind them. All three women wore grave expressions and met his eyes reluctantly.
“What the hell is this?” he shouted.
Warburton’s wheelchair whirred to a stop next to the television monitor. Allison stepped closer to the glass and said, “Israel, I need to ask you to be calm, okay? We can explain, but it’s going to take a minute and it’s going to be hard to hear. We have some things you need to see.”
“Let me out of this cage and I’ll watch anything you want. And why are there raw steak bones everywhere?”
“I’ll explain. Just bear with me, okay? Please?”
He saw her soft eyes pleading. They were moist with unshed tears and he wondered what was going on to move her so deeply. His frustration cooled and he nodded.
Allison let out a relieved breath. “Okay, I’m going to tell you the whole of it but it’s important that you remain calm, okay?”
Again, he nodded.
“You were right,” she said. “We haven’t been telling you everything. Actually, we haven’t told you much at all. Do you remember when you asked me what Stone meant by ‘Awakened’?”
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