Caine didn’t ask why Taylor would have brought her something as precious as cocoa from the island. Taylor no doubt used Penny’s fantasy-making powers for something.
Penny saw the look of distaste on his face as he worked it out. She went to the kitchen, to the little Sterno stove she used to heat the water and the cocoa.
She lit the Sterno.
Caine did not follow her into the kitchen.
He was still sitting there with a puzzled look on his face when she handed him the cup.
They each sipped.
“So I guess if I’m leaving and making it look like it’s not your fault, we should maybe act like we’re fighting,” Penny said.
“It would have to be where people can overhear. But not right out in public, because that’ll look phony,” Caine said. And sipped again at his cocoa. “Kind of bitter,” he said, grimacing at the cup.
“I have a little sugar I could add.”
“You have sugar?”
She fetched it. Two sugar cubes, and she plopped them into his cup. He swirled it around to stir the sugar in.
“You’re right about one thing, Penny,” he said. “You’re useful. Crazy, but useful. No one has sugar, but you do.”
She shrugged modestly. “People like to get away, you know? Think about something more fun than just life and work and all.”
“Yeah. Still: actual sugar? That’s worth a lot.”
“I guess you know I have a crush on you,” Penny said.
“Yeah, well, no offense, but it doesn’t go both ways,” he said.
It took all her self-control not to lash out at him, to cause his skin to burn and bubble.
“Too bad,” Penny said. “Because I can be anyone … in your imagination.”
“Do me a favor; don’t give me any details,” he said. “Now…” He yawned. “Let’s lay plans here. I’ve had a long couple of days, and I want to get this over with.”
So Penny made a suggestion.
And Caine countered with another.
And she smiled and made a small objection.
And he yawned. A long, long yawn.
“You look tired, Caine. Why don’t you close your eyes and rest a few minutes.”
“I can’t…” He started to say, but yawned again. “Talk later. In the morning.”
He tried to stand up. He barely rose, then sagged back. He blinked and stared at her.
She could practically see the wheels turning slowly, slowly in his brain. He frowned. Forced his eyes open and said, “Did you…?”
She didn’t bother answering. She was bored with the game and sick of playing nice.
“I’ll kill you,” he said. He raised one hand, but it wavered in the air. She got up quickly and stepped aside. She came around behind him.
He tried to turn but he couldn’t do it. Could not get his body to respond.
“Don’t worry, Your Highness. In fact, I don’t think you’ll be able to worry at all pretty soon. In addition to the Ambien I mixed in some Valium.”
“I’ll … k…,” he said, and breathed heavily, unable to go on.
“Nighty-night,” Penny said. She picked up a heavy snow globe from the knickknack shelf, where it had no doubt been a prized possession of whoever had owned this house. The snow globe had a little Harrah’s casino inside. A tacky keepsake.
She smashed the globe against the back of Caine’s head. He slumped forward.
The glass shattered, lacerating his scalp but also slicing her thumb.
She looked at the blood on her hand.
“Worth it,” she snarled.
She wrapped a towel around the cut on her hand, then brought in a large wooden salad bowl and a pitcher of water.
Then she dragged the heavy bag of cement from the closet.
NINETEEN
17 HOURS, 37 MINUTES
SILENT AS A shadow Astrid crept from the bunk. It was so hard to leave the warmth of his body. He was a magnet and she was an iron filing, drawn almost irresistibly back to him.
Almost irresistibly.
She crept out into the hallway. Brianna was snoring. It almost made Astrid giggle to realize that she snored at normal speed, like anyone else.
She found her old clothes. She dressed in the shadows. T-shirt, multiply patched jeans. Boots. She checked her backpack. Shotgun shells still there. She would refill her water bottle from the lake. Some food would be good, but Astrid had long since adjusted to extended periods of hunger.
Hopefully this trip wouldn’t take too long. If nothing happened, she could make the walk to Perdido Beach in what, five hours? She sighed. Walk to Perdido Beach through the night or crawl back into bed with Sam and let him wrap his strong arms around her and entwine her legs with his and…
“Now or never,” she whispered.
She had the letters. The ones Mohamed had failed to deliver. She folded them and stuck them into her front pocket, where they couldn’t possibly fall out or be dropped.
The whole plan rested on what she found when she went up on deck. The houseboat was still moored at the dock—a symbolic defiance—but someone would be on watch.
She emerged on the dock side. Maybe whoever was on the top deck wouldn’t notice. Maybe she could just walk away.
“Freeze,” a voice said. Dekka.
Astrid cursed under her breath. She had made it about six feet down the dock. She was well within Dekka’s range, which meant Astrid had zero chance of getting away. Dekka would cancel the gravity beneath her feet, and it was hard to run while floating in the air.
Dekka stepped to the edge of the top deck and then off into space. She canceled gravity for a split second, just enough to allow her to make the drop silently.
“Heading out for a snack run?” Dekka asked dryly. “Pick me up a pack of Ho Hos.”
“I’m going to Perdido Beach,” Astrid said.
“Ah. You’re going to be the big hero and deliver Sam’s letter.”
“Minus the ‘big hero’ snark, yes.”
Dekka jerked her thumb toward the land. “Drake’s out there. And the same coyotes that ate Howard for lunch. No offense, honey, but you’re the brains, not the muscle.”
“I’ve learned a few things,” Astrid said. Without taking her eyes off Dekka’s she swung the butt of her shotgun up and sideways. The wood stock caught Dekka on the side of her face. Not enough to knock her out, but enough to make her drop to her knees.
Astrid moved quickly to get behind Dekka and take advantage of her momentary weakness. She shoved Dekka facedown on the rough planks.
“Sorry, Dekka,” she said, and wrapped a length of rope around her wrists. She stuffed an old sock in Dekka’s mouth. “Listen to me, Dekka. We need Caine, Caine needs us, so this has to happen. And I’m not necessary here.”
Dekka was already straining against the rope and starting to spit the gag out of her mouth.
“If you wake Sam up, he’ll send Brianna after me.”
That quieted Dekka’s struggles.
“I know this sucks, and later you can punch me back,” Astrid said. “Give me twenty minutes before you get Sam. Tell him you were knocked out. You’ll have a nice bruise to show him. He’ll believe you.”
Astrid stood back. Dekka wasn’t struggling. “Tell Sam I said I need to do this. Tell him I won’t stop until I get it done.”
Dekka had managed to spit out the gag. She could yell now and all would be lost. Instead she said, “Cut into the woods; stay away from the bluff. For my money Drake’s in those caves and cracks in the bluff. Breeze cleared the woods pretty well.”
“Thanks.”
“Anything else you want me to tell Sam?”
Astrid knew what she was asking. “He knows I love him.” Then with a sigh she said, “Okay: tell him I love him with all my heart. But tell him also that this battle isn’t on him alone. I’m in this, too.”
“All right, blondie. Good luck. And hey: shoot first; think about it later, huh?”
Astrid nodded. “Yeah.”
She walked quickly away. A part of her was cruelly disappointed that she’d been able to get past Dekka. If she’d been stopped, she would have gotten some credit for making a brave effort. And she’d be back with Sam instead of walking, tense and fearful, toward the line of the woods.
Diana hadn’t thought she’d be able to sleep out on a sailboat. It wasn’t like there were waves, but she still had powerful memories of the days of morning sickness. And she was not happy about anything that might upset the delicate peace she’d achieved with her stomach.
But she had fallen asleep on one of the narrow, cushioned bench seats in the stern of the sailboat.
On the boat were Roger and Justin and one of Justin’s friends, a little girl with the interesting name of Atria. They were asleep. Or at least they were quiet, which, from Diana’s point of view, was just as good.
Diana had watched Roger earlier with the two littles. She wondered if she would ever manage that kind of patience and playfulness. Roger had found some chalk somewhere and had kept the kids calm by drawing funny characters on the deck. Justin and Atria seemed to think it was all a sort of picnic.
The other occupant of the boat was Orc. He had decided his place was up on the front deck, the bow or whatever they called it. His weight lifted the stern so it was at an angle that threatened to spill her out of her seat. But she wrapped one arm around a chrome upright and the other arm uncomfortably around a cleat, tucked a blanket up close to her chin, and sure enough she fell asleep.
But it was one of those strange sleeps. Not complete unconsciousness, but a sort of drifting, smiling, pleasantly cloudy sleep that hovered right on the edge of consciousness.
She could hear voices, but she didn’t understand them or want to.
She could feel the lift and fall of the boat when Orc moved, or when another drifting boat jostled theirs.
It was in this state that Diana heard the voice. It was a voice at once new and familiar. It resonated up from her belly.
She knew it was a dream. At this point the baby—even if it was a little advanced for its age—didn’t have a functioning brain, let alone the power to formulate words and thoughts and sentences.
Baby was warm....
Baby was in the dark....
Baby was safe....
A dream, a pleasant fantasy invented by her subconscious. She smiled.
What are you? her dreaming mind asked.
Baby…
No, silly, I mean are you a boy or a girl?
Diana felt confusion coming from the dreamed baby. Well, of course, that would make sense. After all, this was a dream, and this conversation was a fantasy, with both voices coming from her own subconscious, and since she didn’t know the—
He wants me....
Diana’s hazy dream suddenly filled with storm clouds. The smile was gone. Her jaw muscles clenched.
He whispers to me....
Who? Who whispers to you?
My father…
Diana’s heart skipped beats, then thudded hard to make it up.
Do you mean Caine?
My father says I must come to him....
I asked you a question: do you mean Caine?
“Do you mean Caine?” Diana was awake. Her skin was goose pimpled. “Do you mean Caine?”
She was breathing hard. Drops of sweat stood on her forehead. She felt clammy all over.
Other kids were staring at her. She could see white eyes in the almost pitch-black.
She had been shouting.
“I had a dream,” she whispered. Then, “Sorry. Go back to sleep.”
She couldn’t look at them. She couldn’t have them looking at her.
“Do you mean Caine?” Diana whispered.
No voice answered. But it didn’t matter. Diana had felt the answer. Had known the answer all along.
No…”
Diana pulled her ratty blanket around her and went up on deck. She needed fresh air as an antidote to her overactive imagination. Probably hormones were to blame. Her body was all weird now.
She saw Orc. He sat with his back to her. His few remaining human characteristics were invisible from this angle. But there was still something human in the slump of his massive gravel shoulders. His head hung so low it was barely a bump.
“Aren’t you cold out here?” Diana asked. Stupid question. She wasn’t even sure Orc could feel cold.
Orc didn’t answer. Diana took a few steps closer. “I’m sorry about Howard,” she said. She searched for something kind to say about that thief and drug dealer. It took too long, so she said nothing.
Diana wondered if Orc had been drinking. Orc drunk could be dangerous. But when he spoke at last his words were clearly enunciated. “I looked in the book and didn’t find nothing.”
“The book?”
“It don’t say blessed are the weaselly little guys.”
Oh, that book. She had nothing to say and now she was regretting starting things with Orc. Her cot was suddenly seeming attractive. And she had to pee.
“Howard was … unique, I guess,” she said, wondering what she meant even as she spoke the words.
“He liked me,” Orc said. “Took care of me.”
Yeah, Diana thought, made sure you stayed drunk. Used you. But she kept that to herself.
As if Orc had read her thoughts he said, “Not saying he wasn’t a bad person a lot of times. But so am I. We all do bad stuff. Me worse than most.” Diana flashed on memories of her own. Things she’d done and now couldn’t bear to think about. “Well, maybe like people say, he’s in a better place.”
That sounded stupid to her. But wasn’t that what people said? Anyway, where exactly was a place worse than this? Howard had been choked to death and then had the flesh gnawed from his bones.
“I worry because maybe he’s in hell,” Orc said. The words sounded tortured.
Diana cursed softly, under her breath. How had she gotten herself into this? Really: had to pee. “Orc, God is supposed to be forgiving, right? So probably he forgave Howard. I mean, that’s his job, right? Forgiving?”
“If you do bad stuff and don’t repent, you go to hell,” Orc said, like he was begging for a refutation.
“Yeah, well, you know what? If Howard’s in hell, I guess we can all have a big get-together soon enough.” She turned to go.
“He liked me,” Orc said.
“I’m sure he did,” Diana snapped, wearying of the conversation. “You’re a big, lovable teddy bear, Orc.” Plus a thug and a murderer, she added silently.
“I don’t want to start up drinking again,” Orc said.
“Then don’t,” Diana said.
“But I ain’t ever killed anyone sober.”
Diana had run out of time. She raced down the stairs, found the pot they were all sharing, squatted, and sighed with relief.
The boat rocked wildly. One of the kids yelled a sleepy, “Hey!”
Diana went back up on deck and saw that Orc was gone. The small rowboat that had been tied to one of the boat’s cleats was thirty yards away, moving swiftly toward shore, driven by superhumanly powerful thrusts of the oars.
Caine was still asleep. Penny wasn’t sure how long it would take him to wake up. But she was in no hurry.
No hurry at all. Not now.
She sat watching him. He was in a very uncomfortable position, really. He sat slumped forward on the couch. His hands were wrist-deep in the bowl. The cement had dried pretty quickly.
King Caine.
He wouldn’t be clawing at his eyes, at least. Not with five gallons—the content of the bowl—of cement on his hands. He would barely be able to stand up.
She considered him. The big-deal four bar. The most powerful freak in Perdido Beach, one of just two four bars.
Helpless.
Brought down, all the way down, by bony, unattractive little Penny.
She fetched scissors from the kitchen. He shifted a little and moaned something as she cut the shirt apart and removed it.
Much better. A much more vulnerable look. After all he had been through, he still had a very nice chest. The muscles stood out in his flat stomach.
But before she could show him off, he needed one more thing. The idea she had in mind made her laugh with delight.
There was a roll of aluminum foil in the kitchen. She found it, rolled it out, and set to work by candlelight.
Drake had watched everything from the high ground out past Sinder’s garden. It made him happy to see that Sam and all his little charges were cowering in boats. It was a testament to Drake’s power.
But unfortunately it made it very hard to get to Diana. There was no way even to know where she was. She could be on any of dozens of boats.
All during the evening he had cowered up here as every half an hour or so a whirlwind blew past. Brianna.
Each time Drake would sink back against the rocks. The coyotes would turn their ears toward the sound and lie perfectly still. They feared Swift Girl.
But Brianna had not seen them. And now it was deepest night, and Swift Girl wasn’t so swift in the dark.
And then Drake had had some luck. Diana herself, wrapped in a shawl or something, had stepped into view on one of the boats. The one with Orc sitting in the bow.
Even by dim starlight he knew her. No one else moved like Diana.
Of course. He should have thought of that. Sam would make sure she had a strong protector, so of course she would be on the boat with Orc.
The sight of her made his whip twitch. He unwrapped it from encircling his waist. He wanted to feel the power in it as he gazed down at her.
She would be brave at first. Say what he might about Diana, she was not soft or weak. But the whip would change her attitude. Nothing that would harm the baby. But that still left Drake plenty of possibilities.
If he could just figure out how to get to her. And past Brianna. And Orc.
He glanced at the big houseboat, the only thing still attached to the dock. It was farther away, and the angle was bad for seeing anything other than the top deck. Dekka had been on watch there. Now she was gone. But Drake knew perfectly well the houseboat had been left there as a lure for him. They wanted him to be stupid enough to attack.
He felt a sudden flash of rage. Sam, oh, so very clever, moving all his vulnerable people out onto the boats. He hadn’t seemed so clever when Drake had whipped the flesh from him and Sam had cried out in pain and tears had streamed from his eyes....”
Fear: A Gone Novel Page 16
