Dying Light

by Kory M. Shrum

  Gabriel flickers and disappears, leaving me alone to stare out at the beautiful expanse of blue grey water.

  You love Alice.

  I press my forehead to the cold glass. I know what he means. I love her like that. I want her like that—no one else. Fuck. I can’t argue. I kept my distance because she didn’t want it to be just about the sex for me. But it isn’t about the sex. I’m trying to picture this happily ever after. I don’t know what that even looks like, except that it’s just me and her. It’s not even sexy, it’s—happy. Peaceful. Sweet.

  “You were afraid it would hurt to lose her. Now you understand you will lose her no matter what.”

  I whirl to find Gabriel standing behind me.

  “Oh my god, do you mind?”

  “You are trying to understand—”

  “I know!” I yell. “But can I have a little privacy?”

  “I am here to help you.”

  “If you don’t go away, I’m going to rip your feathers out.”

  Scowling, Gabriel flickers and then disappears.

  Maisie is standing at the edge of the hallway, looking at me with curious stare.

  I put both of my hands on my hips. “What do you want?”

  She grins. “You’re a little crazy, aren’t you?”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  Chapter 19

  Ally

  “Who did you ask for help?” I accept the bowl of chili mac that Nikki hands me before she sits down on the chair across the room. “Do you want to sit here?”

  “No, I’m fine.” She winks at me. It makes my stomach knot and my cheeks warm. “I have a better view of you from here.”

  I’m grinning like a fool when I turn back and see Gloria staring at me, chewing her own chili mac. Her expression is carefully neutral.

  “Actually Brinkley asked for their help,” Gloria says, putting her bowl down and wiping her mouth with a paper napkin.

  “Oh that’s right.” I remember Brinkley’s letter, which came with the first journal.

  I trust Gloria to make sure the information makes it into their hands. But I only know one who will come for sure. If I’m wrong and no one steps up, I want you to know that I trust you too. You’ve always had Jesse’s interests at heart, and I think that’s the real thing that scares Caldwell.

  I can’t count how many times I’ve read that letter, over and over. “It’s been two months. Shouldn’t someone have stepped up by now?”

  “They have.” Gloria cuts her eyes to Nikki who is lost in her own bowl of food. Gloria’s eyes say the rest.

  They just won’t come near Tate Tower. “So are they coming here?”

  “They’re already in Chicago, surveying the situation,” Gloria says. “They’re investigating The Needle.”

  “So, what, they’ll call us?”

  Gloria scrapes her bowl clean before I’ve finished my fourth bite. “You need some sleep and I need to draw.”

  “I’ll take first watch.” Nikki takes her bowl to the sink.

  Gloria accepts her guard duty offer with a nod and begins setting up her papers and pencils on the table in front of her.

  Nikki takes a seat beside me, pushing the hair back behind my ears. “How are you holding up?”

  “Okay.” I shrug. I put my bowl on the side table. I was so hungry before, but now I can’t seem to shovel the food into my mouth. “What about you?”

  “Fine. Believe it or not, this is a rather calm day for me.”

  I smile. “Jeremiah works you too hard.”

  She shrugs. “The price of trust, I suppose.”

  “The price of skill. You’re amazing.”

  She turns toward me. “You were amazing in the tunnel. Any other girl as pretty as you would’ve squealed at least once, and I even stepped on your fingers.”

  I’d forgotten about that. I look down and see the red line across the knuckles of my left hand.

  Nikki leans forward for a kiss. I let her have my lips once, a soft brush of skin on skin. She pulls me into her lap and runs a hand through my hair.

  “It’s going to be okay.” She reads the lines on my face. “We’ll get her back.”

  “I’m so worried—”

  She rubs my back. “I know.”

  Nikki wants to kiss and cuddle and while that is comforting to an extent, I also feel like I can’t sit still. Maybe a shower would help.

  I kiss Nikki’s cheek and climb out of her lap. “I don’t know if I’ll have another chance to wash my hair. Better do it before anyone else comes pounding on the door.”

  I gather up my toiletries and the few things I took from the room before we left Tate Tower. I close myself in the bathroom. I turn on the shower and exhaust fan but I don’t get in.

  I wish I could hide in here with the laptop. I want to continue my research, learn more about the handful of people that Caldwell hasn’t yet managed to kill. But I don’t want Nikki to ask questions. If it were just Gloria and I, I would share my secret.

  So I let the water run, using the toilet as a seat as I pull the last composition notebook out of my bag—the last, because it contains Brinkley’s final entry. It’s not the research I want to do, but it is important information that could help us.

  I glance over the last page for the thousandth time, for anything I could have missed. When I find nothing, I flip back three entries.

  I was on the bench when I saw Sullivan.

  He just appeared, his back to me as he watched the water. The wind was rippling the surface and the high noon sun made everything shine, even the dingy iron of the bridge.

  “I was wondering if I’d ever see you again,” I said. I set my back against the bench and felt the heat from the wooden planks through my leather jacket.

  “I wanted to say thank you,” he said, turning around. He faced me and I got a good look at him. He squinted against the sun in his eyes, his freckles scrunching up. I knew immediately that he’d changed. Somehow. “The camps are actually closed and that’s thanks to you.”

  “I should thank you,” I said. “Jackson still has her brains in her head.”

  I try to picture it: Brinkley, Gloria and Caldwell—working together toward a common goal. Even then Caldwell was a liar, manipulating Brinkley in order to gain his help.

  I flip the page.

  “I know you have questions about Maisie. She’s safe. Happy.”

  “You’re her father,” I said. I sat forward and rested my elbows on my knees. “Her biological dad.”

  “I wasn’t lying when I said I met her mother in the camp,” he began. “It’s amazing how much a man’s feelings can intensify in a place like that. We avoided sex for months. We were scared of exactly that kind of thing happening. Georgia—Maisie’s mother— knew having something happen to her baby would kill her. And it almost did. I didn’t take Maisie for me. I took her hoping it would heal some broken part of her mother……We’re together again, and that’s what matters. Georgia needs her.”

  I read this paragraph again. And again.

  Maisie.

  The fact that Caldwell mentioned Maisie to Jesse means she is no secret. He is going to use Maisie somehow, use her like he uses everyone to get what he wants. I’m not worried Jesse will have a soft spot for the girl. Jesse doesn’t do well with kids as a rule, and a sixteen year old is probably even less cuddly than a six year old. But the idea that Maisie somehow fits into this, another innocent girl, makes me nervous.

  I close the composition notebook and test the water to see if it’s warm enough to do my hair at least.

  I strip down and step into the stream. The image of Brinkley and Caldwell talking by the water replays in my mind. I’m more than a little irritated at Nikki. It isn’t her fault. She can’t be blamed for the inconvenience she’s causing.

  I know exactly what Brinkley would say to all this—all my pointless obsessing and attempts to prepare for a future I can’t predict.

  Hindsight is 20/20, kid.

  And he’s rig
ht. Why obsess about hypotheticals? Soon enough, I’ll know exactly how this will end.

  Chapter 20

  Jesse

  “If you want to leave, you’ll have to let me touch you,” Caldwell says for the billionth time.

  “Uh, nope.” I’ve got Winston in my arms, belly up like a baby. I refuse to let him run around this prison cell, lest Caldwell decide he is going to snatch him up again. Lucky for me, Winston likes to be cradled like a baby, or this would get old quick.

  “I’ve told you what you need to know,” he says. “Now you understand the gravity of the situation. Let me return you to your friends.”

  “Do you think I’m a complete moron?” I ask. “The last time you transported me, you used Liza’s snappy power and knocked me out. Who knows what you’ll try to use on me the second time.”

  “I told you.” Caldwell’s voice strains with the tension. “I only wanted you to meet your sister. You’ve met her and you understand what I have to offer. We don’t have a lot of time left. We should make amends and be a family while we still can.”

  “You know, this whole sales pitch would work better if you weren’t grinning like an axe murderer.”

  Caldwell laughs. Throws his head back and laughs like he’s having the best time in the world.

  “Yeah, see. Your crazy is showing.”

  I’m brushing off his remarks, but the truth is, he’s hit a chord. A family. Yes, I do want one. I’ve wanted one since I was eight and Eric Sullivan—Caldwell—dropped out of my life. What I got instead was a rapist stepdad, a shitty childhood, and the tumultuous life as a death replacement agent.

  “You can’t just take it all back,” I tell him.

  “I can. That’s what I’m trying to make you understand, Jesse. I can take it all back.”

  It’s like someone has kicked me in the chest. “I’m not going to let you brainwash me.”

  “Your death replacing has already erased some of the worst memories. Why not let me take the rest? In exchange, I can give you Maisie and Georgia—and me. We wouldn’t have to fight anymore. We could be on the same side.”

  My jaw drops. “What kind of new mindfuckery is this?”

  But even as I say it, my heart aches. I want it. I can’t deny that I want it.

  He steps toward me, little more than a silhouette in front of the great window. “Let me prove it to you. Let’s kill Jason together.”

  “Uh, no. Jeremiah couldn’t make me kill him, and I sure as hell won’t let you make me.”

  A flicker of frustration screws up his face before he regains his calm. “He’s hunting your friends now. We have to protect them. I will let you absorb his gift. Just let me prove to you that we are on the same team.”

  “I am not sure Team Jesse T-shirts and a Team Jesse parade will prove anything at this point.” I say, but he’d hit another nerve. He’s hunting your friends.

  Gabriel?

  Gabriel tries to appear, but only the scent of rain bleeds through. I wish I could understand why he can’t be clear around Caldwell, but I can’t expect Gabriel to explain that to me. He can’t even explain why grape flavoring doesn’t taste like grapes. Useless.

  Is Jason hunting them? Are Ally and Gloria in danger now?

  Yes.

  “Let me prove it to you,” Caldwell says.

  “Put on gloves.”

  He arches an eyebrow. “What?”

  “Put on thick snow gloves so you can’t snap. Hell, mummy wrap your hands actually. Call your offspring in here and have her wrap medical tape around your hands. Then when no one else is in the room—no one for you to command to kill or sedate me—I want to search your pockets for sedatives. Only then will I let you take me and Winston somewhere.”

  His eyes narrow. “Paranoia doesn’t suit you.”

  I shrug for added nonchalance. “Take it or leave it.”

  “We can’t take the pug.”

  “I said—”

  “Do you really think it is wise to bring a pug to a firefight?”

  I look down at the little squished face in my arms. He has a point.

  “He’ll be safe with Maisie.”

  “No, no, no,” I say. “That means I have to come back here.”

  “You’re safest here. We all are.”

  “Winston.” Maisie calls from her room down the hall. Winston hears her and squirms in my arms. “Winnie Pug, come here boy.”

  It’s either set him down or let him fall and break a hip. I put him on the floor and the little traitor runs down the hall toward the thin sliver of light coming from Maisie’s door. He nudges it open wider with his nose. Her voice breaks into a sing-song chorus.

  I turn back to find Caldwell smiling.

  “You did that didn’t you? You like mind-melded and told her to call him.”

  “Jason is going to kill your friends, and I’m offering to help you. Do you want my help or not? Last chance.”

  Gabriel’s shadow flickers in the corner.

  Is he going to kill me and leave my body to freeze in Lake Michigan?

  No.

  Why should I believe anything you say? You set me up to die in the first place. All of this is your fault.

  He says nothing to this, or his words are drowned out by Caldwell’s approach. I keep my shield up, shimmering in place.

  Caldwell stops short of me, looking down on me with a really good imitation of fatherly concern.

  “Let me help you.” Caldwell grins like I’m about to sign over a blank check. “I have so much to make up for.”

  I snort.

  I think of Ally running for her life, and Jason as indestructible as they come, trying to beat her half to death—just like Caldwell did.

  I meet his eyes. “Wrap your hands and we have a deal.”

  Chapter 21

  Ally

  “Fuck!”

  Gloria’s yell jolts me awake. I come to a sitting position with a sharp intake of breath.

  Nikki is already on her feet with her gun. “Grab your bag.” She slides my bag across the floor toward me. She’s already packed it up.

  I stand and pull on each of my boots with a tug. “What’s going on?”

  “Jason is here. He’s beating the hell out of the keypad outside, trying to get into the building.”

  Gloria opens the window and turns back to face me. “Remember what I said about parachute jumping?”

  “What?” I’m trying to bring the world into focus despite the frightful thrashing of my heart, but I’m still half wrapped in dreams. On instinct my hand goes to my bag, but my laptop is closed and screen locked, and Brinkley’s papers are undisturbed.

  Gloria lifts her cast covered leg and sticks it out of the window.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I ask.

  Her legs are out of the window and after a precarious moment of balancing on the window sill, she jumps through. A heartbeat later, I hear a soft thud of feet connecting with earth.

  I stick my head out of the window, sucking in the cold air. Gloria pulls herself to standing. She looks like she’s putting even more weight on her uninjured leg, but otherwise, is moving okay.

  The apartment’s door handle rattles. Then fists pound at the front door.

  “Go on.” Nikki puts a hand on her back. “I’ll help lower you down.”

  On the ground, Gloria motions for me to hurry. I take a deep breath and sling my legs over the lip of the window. Nikki grabs onto my arms, forearms clasped with mine, and begins to lower me down. My toes stretch, desperate to find earth beneath them, but I’m too high up. The side of the brick building scratches at my jacket, smearing dead leaves and dirt along my side.

  I look up to see Nikki patiently holding my arms. “Put your legs together and let go. As soon as you feel the ground touch your toes, bend your knees. Okay?”

  I let go and fall.

  I slam the ground, rolling to the side as a sharp pain shoots up my hip.

  Gloria helps me to my feet. I lean on her, testing my w
eight on my feet. My ankle hurts, but it isn’t so bad. I’ve had worse.

  I turn at the sound of Nikki’s feet connecting with the ground. Just as she does, Jason sticks his head out the window above. Then he’s trying to climb out the window after us.

  He jumps, lands and starts coming before we even have a chance to react. His face is a mask of fury and he swings at Nikki, but she ducks, driving an uppercut into his sternum.

  “Move!” Gloria limps across the small patch of earth and shoves a gun under Jason’s jaw.

  He tries to yank himself free, but Gloria grabs onto his throat and squeezes. Forcing his chin up with her muzzle, she pulls the trigger. Brains shoot out of the top of his skull and into the oak tree overhead. The branches and leaves are splattered red. Jason hits the ground like a sack of potatoes.

  “Jesus.” I swallow a wave of nausea and stumble back on my weak ankle, my hip throbbing.

  The three of us crowd around his body. Thankfully, his face isn’t disfigured, but I keep my eyes carefully pointed away from the wet mess that clumps around the top of his head.

  “Did that work?” Relief washes over me.

  “Shit.” Nikki’s grip tightens on my arm.

  “What?” But I don’t need her to answer my question. The hole at the bottom of his chin is closing.

  Gloria motions toward the bridge. “We have to go.”

  We reach the boat, a little dinghy hidden in the shadows beneath the bridge. We climb in. The three of us will be a tight fit, but we pile in anyway, with me nestled between Nikki’s legs and our bags. Gloria yanks on the pull cord.

  The boat roars to life.

  “How did he find us?” I ask Gloria. “Is he using an A.M.P.?”

  Like Caldwell used Micah. I don’t dare mention her baby brother aloud.

  “I don’t know.” Gloria glances behind her once more before focusing on the river ahead. “But I’ll find out.”