“No,” he continued. “I’m not done. You’ve been acting so weird lately. And I know you’re having issues with this ghost thing or whatever it is, but even so, it’s like you’re not even there half the time. I try to talk to you, and it’s like your mind is somewhere else completely.”
Alessa reached for him, but he shook her off.
“And then when you finally do talk, all you want to talk about is what you’re going through, and all your memories, and Joe. Why is it never about me?”
Isaac paused for a moment, his face flush and hot from his tirade. And that was when the crux of his anger reared its ugly head and revealed itself to him – it was Joe. He was jealous of Alessa’s feelings for Joe. And once again, he felt like he wasn’t measuring up, like he was eclipsed under his brother’s shadow.
“Argh!” Isaac kicked the tool bag and stormed out, up the darkened stairwell and into the building lobby, scooping his pack off the ground and finally punching open the door and stomping out onto the street.
Alessa gave him a few minutes to cool down before she followed. She came out with the rest of their gear – her pack, the tent, the sleeping bags, and the heavy tool bag – strapped to her back and tucked under her arms.
He sighed. “Give me some of that.”
She shook her head. “No, you’re still recovering. I can carry it today.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Isaac argued. “You’re carrying three times as much as I am. I’m feeling fine.”
“You can have this.” She handed him the tool bag. “I want to help,” she added pointedly.
Isaac exhaled and looked at the floor. “I’m sorry, Less. I didn’t mean that. I was being an ass.”
He met her eyes. She looked him over guardedly before heaving a sigh. “You’re more like your brother than you think.”
Isaac just looked away. She grabbed his arm.
“Listen. I don’t want you to be Joe. Joe was fun, but he was also cocky and hotheaded and he made rash decisions that put himself and the people he cared for at unnecessary risk.”
She stepped around to face him, holding both of his arms now tightly in her hands. “I love you, Isaac. I love who you are. If I had to pick one person to partner with me on this mission – on this life – it would be you, every time.”
Isaac felt humbled. He lamented the reckless things he’d said to Alessa; they weren’t fair. All she ever did was help him. He felt like such a fool.
Finally Alessa dropped his arms and took his hand, leading him up the quiet street. They walked in silence for a few minutes, their slow breaths curling behind them in the chill as the weak winter sun prodded at their backs.
Alessa was the first to speak. “I’m sorry I’ve been so preoccupied lately.”
“Forget it, Less,” Isaac entreated. He’d behaved like a petulant child, and he was ashamed. The last thing she needed to do was apologize.
“No, you were right,” she urged. “Part of it is what I keep experiencing with all these strange feelings, which I can’t really do much about. But part of it has also been Joe.” She looked up at him with an apology in her eyes. “He’s been in my thoughts a lot lately. I don’t know why.”
She shook her head. “It’s been years since I thought about him this much. I don’t understand why he’s just coming back to me now, but the fact is, he has. It’s like I can’t get him out of my head.”
She stopped walking and took hold of Isaac’s hands, an earnest look in her eyes. “But that doesn’t mean my feelings have changed, Isaac. And I’m sorry if I hurt you, or made you feel insecure. That was never what I wanted. But I can’t change that these feelings have resurfaced – and I have to deal with them.”
Isaac nodded.
Alessa searched his eyes a moment longer before she turned and resumed their pace.
“I just really don’t understand it,” she explained as she walked. “I thought I’d dealt with Joe’s loss. I thought I put it behind me, moved on.” She shrugged. “Maybe I never really did.”
As much as it hurt to know that a part of Alessa still pined for his brother, Isaac could at least understand it. After all, a part of him still deeply missed Joe’s presence, too.
“The ones we love most never really leave us, do they?” he said, squeezing her hand. “They just hole up deep inside us, where we couldn’t get rid of them even if we tried.”
Alessa smiled gently, her eyes flashing sideways at Isaac. “Joe would have liked that idea. He always was a stubborn one.”
Isaac laughed. “What was it they say about cockroaches and nuclear bombs?”
“They’re the only survivors.”
Isaac chuckled to himself. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Try to blast Joe out of your heart, and he only digs in further.”
Alessa smiled.
The breeze whipped, an icy jet roaring down the street beside them, leaving them both with a shiver. Wrapping his arm around Alessa’s shoulders, Isaac pulled her in tight and buried his lips in her hair.
In a whisper he wasn’t sure she’d heard over the howling of the wind, he added, “Just hope I’m in there a little deeper.”
21. CONTACT
“Just hope I’m in there a little deeper,” he’d murmured, but Alessa had pretended she didn’t hear. There was a time not long ago when that entreaty would have elicited a resounding affirmation from Alessa. But the truth was, she just wasn’t sure anymore.
Of course, she loved Isaac, deeply. And what she’d told him – that she would choose him as a partner over Joe – was true. But that was also her head speaking. Her heart… at the moment, that was a different story.
Joe really had somehow cockroached himself deep inside her, more so, she was realizing now, than she’d ever thought before. The absolute last thing she wanted was to hurt Isaac, but she couldn’t lie to him, either. Isaac and Alessa would be together forever – she certainly wasn’t questioning that – but if Joe were still alive… who knew? She couldn’t deny that things likely would have played out much differently if he’d never been taken by Paragon. It might have been Alessa and Joe.
She knew Isaac loved his brother intensely, that he had always looked up to him and wanted to be more like him, that Joe was practically his hero. Alessa had never fully understood the intensity of that feeling, or why Joe’s memory always seemed to overshadow everything Isaac accomplished. But now – after experiencing Isaac’s hallucinations during his sickness – she got it.
She had watched Joe extract the promise from him, the promise to take care of her. And Isaac took his word seriously, especially when it came to his brother. With that kind of responsibility ever looming over his shoulder, it was no wonder Isaac second guessed himself at every juncture. With everything he did, he must be questioning if it were what Joe would have wanted.
And Alessa realized she hadn’t been making it any easier on Isaac by second guessing his decisions as well. Regardless of her tangled feelings for Joe, Alessa would have to be more conscious to be supportive of Isaac. After all, he was the one who’d gotten her this far. Considering that she owed him her life many times over, the least she could do was be careful not to feed his insecurities.
After all, if there was one thing that the past week had made clear for Alessa, it was that she simply couldn’t face the possibility of losing Isaac. She’d spent so much time worrying about external factors – Paragon, the virus, now those creatures – that she’d never considered she might drive him away on her own. He’d just always been such a solid presence in her life.
Selfishly, she realized, it’d never occurred to Alessa that the things she said or did might actually affect how Isaac felt about himself – that he was actually listening to her offhand comments and reading into them. She would have to be more conscious of how she treated him, more careful not to take him for granted. She’d never forgive herself if she pushed him away.
They’d wandered aimlessly for a while, until they’d found themselves on a western path out of the c
ity, chasing the sun as it dallied over the horizon. They’d come out of the city opposite of where they’d gone in, ending up down a long stretch of highway – the same one they’d entered on – with corporate parks lining either side.
Sprawling open lawns rolled up and down the gentle hills surrounding the highway, the overgrown grass rippling like the sea in the brisk winter wind. Jutting steel-and-glass offices punctuated the hillsides like islands, small groves of trees – slowly reclaiming their feral heritage – bobbing like buoys in the wide lonely spaces between the many campuses.
Eventually Alessa and Isaac hopped the guardrail in favor of strolling through the high flowing grass. By now the sun had set, but something had propelled them to keep walking, the brittle fringe of the grasses brushing against their thighs with a comforting swish, swish, swish in the dark.
Large dark shadows lurked in the distance, but it wasn’t the creatures this time. No, these shadows stood still as stone, and far larger than she imagined even the beasts to be.
They followed an overgrown gravel path approaching one of these shadow giants, peering curiously up to its apex 15 feet above their heads. Art, Alessa realized – sterilized abstract shapes wrought of iron and steel. It’d been dropped, like the others, unceremoniously in the middle of an open stretch, as if this monstrosity would somehow lessen the coldness of the ultra-modern edifice and its once well-manicured lawns.
Strolling through the expanse, Alessa was just beginning to wonder if it was almost time to make camp when the ground in front of her suddenly exploded, dirt spewing in every direction as a series of rapid shots trailed up the lawn heading for her feet. She jumped back into Isaac and both went tumbling below the grass. They shimmied on their stomachs to the shield of the massive sculpture, unburdening themselves of their gear once safely behind cover.
“What the hell was that?” Isaac gasped.
“It sounds like someone’s shooting at us!” Alessa’s mouth dropped at the realization of what she’d just said. “Isaac – do you think they’re survivors?”
Isaac shook his head. “If they are, they don’t seem friendly…”
“Maybe they think we’re those creatures.”
“In that case, I’d be shooting at us, too,” Isaac shrugged.
Alessa punched his shoulder. “Come on, we need to convince them we’re not a threat.”
“What are you gonna do?”
“Talk to them,” Alessa replied.
Isaac raised an eyebrow with concern. “Just try not to get shot, okay?”
Alessa stood up, her back to the statue, and slowly inched toward the direction the shooting had come. When she reached the edge, she poked her head around to survey the scene. There were bright searchlights crisscrossing the expanse of the yard, and she couldn’t see anyone near the large dark building up ahead. But when she stepped out and waved her arms in a signal of submission, she was only greeted with the ping of more shots bouncing off the sculpture. She quickly ducked back behind.
“They don’t seem willing to negotiate,” she reported.
“No kidding.” Isaac thought for a moment. “I don’t think we can retreat…” He shook his head. “Even if we go back the way we came, we’re probably still in range of their weapons. And there’s no cover that direction.”
“We just need to get them to stop shooting long enough to listen to us,” Alessa insisted.
Isaac peeked around the statue, staying low among the cover of the tall grass as he peered up toward the building. “Okay, I think I have a plan.”
He scrambled back beside Alessa. “When I say, you make a run for it –” he motioned at another solid sculpture 50 yards to the right, “– and while they’re distracted looking for you, I’ll sneak around the side through the grass and disarm the shooter. Hopefully once he’s without a weapon, he’ll be a little more eager to talk.”
Alessa was about to ask him if he really thought he could safely sneak past the shooter – or shooters – but then she decided against it. Isaac wouldn’t have suggested this strategy if he wasn’t sure he could make it. The last thing she needed to do now was shake his confidence.
“Ready?” Isaac asked.
Alessa nodded.
“All right, then. Let’s do this.” He scooted up into a crouch. “You go first to draw the spotlight, then I’ll sneak out the other way. Oh, and Less – once you’re safe, try to draw their fire every now and then so I can get an idea of where the shooter’s positioned before I go in.”
Alessa nodded her understanding. Her heart was pumping – she was ready. She took a deep breath and one final peek around the edge of the sculpture… and then she flew.
22. JACKPOT
Isaac held his breath as Alessa streaked through the tall grass, drawing the spotlights one by one until not a single lamp lingered on the statue Isaac was using for cover.
As the final spotlight spun to circle the second sculpture where Alessa was hiding, she gave him a tentative thumbs up from across the way. Now it was his turn.
As far as Isaac could tell, it seemed like the shots were coming from the roof of the building, which was maybe 200 yards away. Between here and there, besides the abundant grass, cover was scarce – just the occasional picnic table or cluster of trees. But it was dark, and the grass was thick, so if he just stayed low, he should be able to creep up to the building unseen.
He tucked a sturdy knife into his pocket with the intention of sneaking up on the shooter. He wouldn’t hurt anyone if he could avoid it, but even a big man would surrender with the prick of a sharp blade at his throat. Then once the shooter was disarmed, Isaac could explain what they wanted and hopefully convince these potential allies to shut down the alarms.
He crept low on his belly through the tall grass, grateful for the light breeze that would disguise his movement from above. The going was slow, but eventually he reached a small stand of trees at the edge of the pavement. He stood and scanned back towards Alessa’s sculpture. The searchlights still circled it, and when Alessa tentatively poked her head out as he’d instructed – drawing more shots – he was able to confirm both that she was okay and that the shooter was on the roof, as he’d suspected.
Now came the difficult part – how was he going to get up there unscathed? The building was a sprawling two-story complex, more concrete than glass he noticed, which was a different style than most of the campuses they’d passed earlier. A wide swath of blacktop ran around the building, the curb on either side lined with empty parking spaces. There was no cover between here and the tall, smooth walls, which – Isaac noted with chagrin – he had no hope of scaling.
He wasn’t far from the southwest corner of the building, where a wide metal emergency door was accessible from ground level. But Isaac wasn’t hopeful about the door’s odds of being unlocked. Further down the side of the building he spied a fire escape ladder hanging from the roof. The bottom was tucked up securely – too high for Isaac to jump – but nature had forged another path. What was likely once a small decorative tree in the sparse gardens adorning the building had grown tall and wild over time, and it looked just close enough that Isaac could leap from its sturdy lower branches to the bottom rung of the ladder.
So that was his destination. The only question now was how to sneak over there unseen.
Isaac surveyed the property a little longer, but there really was no way around crossing the blacktop. It wrapped the building like a dark, dangerous moat; he’d have no choice but to take his chances in a mad dash across it, hoping that the shadow of the building itself and the meager shrubbery scattered around it would offer some refuge once he reached the other side.
He waited for Alessa to draw the shooter’s fire once more, and then it was time. Isaac sucked in a final breath of air and raced out of the trees, his feet pounding against the driveway.
His heart dropped as a motion-sensing light kicked on the instant he stepped from the trees, tracking his path as the distinctive whirring of an automatic weapon pr
eparing to strike filled his ears.
Adrenaline ringing through him, Isaac pumped his legs, pushing hard for the shelter of the building ahead before the second gun could fire. Any moment now, bullets would begin to rain down on him. A vision of Alessa trapped behind that sculpture with no escape flashed before his eyes, and he knew he needed to get to safety, for her sake if not his own.
Isaac’s limbs burned with the effort of his sprint as the gun finally discharged – click click click click click click click – expelling shots faster than should be possible. He just ran – it was all he could do. He reached the corner of the building with a tingle coursing through his body; if he’d been hit, he couldn’t feel it.
Click click click click. The barrage continued, and still Isaac sprinted. It wasn’t until he reached the tree that he realized after the sound of another empty click why he hadn’t felt the sting of wounds tearing through his skin – the clip was empty. The gun wasn’t firing any bullets!
He laughed at his good luck, but knew better than to waste time celebrating. Someone was bound to replenish the ammo any minute now – he needed to get up there before they could.
The gun continued its endless hollow clacking as Isaac pulled himself into the lower boughs of the tree and launched himself at the ladder hanging down from the lip of the roof. He caught the bottom rung with the fingers of one hand and braced himself as his body jerked against the pull of gravity. Swinging his other arm up with all his might, Isaac was able to get two hands on the ladder and his feet on the wall ahead of him, scrambling up the side of the building as fast as his tired limbs would take him. Once his feet struck the ladder with a clang, he moved more quickly, climbing the rungs until he was high enough to poke his head over the edge and survey the roof.
Not far down the ledge, Isaac spotted a large automatic weapon hanging limply from its stand – the gun that had targeted him on his dash across the parking lot. Its owner must have run off to collect more ammo.
At the far side of the platform, he could see the glow from the first shooter’s barrel lighting up the night as it fired toward Alessa. But the shooter himself was hidden behind some large ventilation shafts jutting up through the roof. No matter – that would only make it easier for Isaac to steal up on his target.
Shudder (Stitch Trilogy, Book 2) Page 13
