“You see, Ms. O’Brien, I’m not willing to play games. I can hurt you.”
The pain seemed to spiral downward into my very core, roiling there in a whirlwind of denial and despair.
“No,” I said distinctly, staring right into those inhuman eyes.
“Ms. O’Brien — ”
“NO!”
It barreled out of me, a shockwave of refusal to believe that was Paul lying there on the floor of his cell, a surge of fury that exploded outward in all directions, as brilliant and deadly as a nuclear blast.
No healing, no salvation in it this time. Where the power had merely knocked the alien virus free of Raymond Lampson, this time it struck with such fury that it threw the alien general backward several feet, where he landed with a thud. No unearthly wail. No returning glimmer of human intelligence.
I stared down at him, and knew he was dead, both the human host and the alien within. Another Persephone O’Brien might have cared, but not this one. They had killed Paul. They didn’t deserve to live.
Maybe some time later I would cry. Now, I could only bend down and retrieve the pistol from the holster at his waist. I’d never shot a gun in my life, but somehow I knew how to slip off the safety, check the clip to make sure it was full.
My entire body thrummed with dark energy. I lifted a hand to the card reader by the door, and it glowed green. I grasped the handle and threw the door open.
The hybrids who had been guarding the door guarded it no longer. They lay sprawled across the threshold to the conference room, dark blood trickling from their eyes, their noses, their mouths.
More of my doing? Probably.
Good riddance.
I stalked down the hallway, seeing more bodies of hybrids as I passed. No sign of a human being. Maybe they weren’t allowed on this level. Just as well. That psychic blast or whatever it had been seemed to have targeted only the aliens, or at least beings with some alien DNA in their physical composition. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what it had done to any humans in the facility.
A bank of elevators was just ahead, and I went to the center one and laid my hand against the reader next to it. The lights flashed green, and the door opened.
No one inside, thank God, and I entered the little metal chamber and pushed the button for Level 8.
I was too late, but I was going to Paul anyway. Besides, even in my hollow shell of shock and rage, I knew I couldn’t leave Jeff and Raymond here.
The elevator doors opened, and I looked out into the corridor. At once I saw more dead bodies of hybrids. Apparently the blast had rippled through the entire installation.
Although the hideous images the alien general had shown me hadn’t revealed a cell number, somehow I knew to go to my right, and down to the end of the corridor. A wave of the hand, and the door unlocked itself. I reached out and opened it, taking a breath. Part of me wanted to turn away so I wouldn’t have to see in person what I’d witnessed on those displays upstairs, but I knew I wouldn’t do that. I had to say goodbye.
Something hard hit my head, and I let out a little shriek. Then I saw Jeff stumble toward me, stepping over the body of a hybrid. There was another body lying next to it.
But I didn’t have a chance to see the horror of Paul’s dead form, because Raymond came up from the other side as he stammered, “Jesus, Persephone, I’m sorry — I didn’t know who was coming in that door, and all I had was my shoe — ”
“It’s all right,” I said wearily. I didn’t even bother to reach up and rub the throbbing spot on the side of my skull where Raymond’s shoe had hit me.
“What happened?” Jeff demanded. “All of a sudden the guard just dropped dead — ”
“Um, watch it,” Raymond cut in. He put out a hand, his expression at once mortified and pleading. It was clear he was doing everything he could to keep from looking down at the floor where Paul lay. “Persephone, look, I don’t know what happened, but we should probably just get out of here. I’m really sorry about Paul — ”
I held up a hand. Once again my voice failed me, so I only shook my head and finally turned to see what they had been trying to have me avoid.
It had been a clean shot, and very neat. Not as much blood as I would have thought. If it weren’t for the blood, I could have almost convinced myself that he was just asleep, or unconscious.
But he wasn’t. I knelt next to him, took his hand in mine. It was still warm.
If the universe had been a little less cruel, the power that had struck down the aliens would have flowed through me again, only this time with healing energy. But I was spent and still, and knew there was nothing I could do to bring back the man I loved.
I had won…but in doing so, had lost much, much more.
Time spun away from me as I knelt there, head bowed over his hand. A band of agony tightened around my chest. I couldn’t cry, couldn’t do anything except cling to Paul’s hand as his flesh began to cool beneath mine.
A throat clearing. “Um, Persephone, I really think — ”
Whatever Jeff might or might not have thought, I would never know, because at that moment a flare of white light exploded in the cell, and I heard both men exclaim out loud.
Then I did lift my head. Otto stood there, surrounded by the same opalescent glow I’d seen when I hovered outside my body and listened to him tell me I had a power the aliens feared. Well, now I knew why…much good that it had done me.
“We are not supposed to interfere,” Otto said, while Jeff and Raymond stared at him with open mouths.
I swallowed. So he’d dropped in just so he could deliver the bad news in person?
“But, considering your extraordinary services today, I decided the hell with that.” He moved past me, bent down to lay the palm of his hand against Paul’s forehead. And he reached out to touch me as well, and it was as if a spark traveled from me, down through his arm, and on into Paul’s body.
I saw Paul twitch. His eyes flashed open, and he sat up, coughing. A brief incredulous stare as he took in Otto’s glowing presence. “Am I dead?”
“Not anymore,” Otto replied. “But you should probably leave this place if you want to continue in that state.”
Joy swept through me, pushing away the clouds of despair. “Otto, I could just kiss you.”
An expression of alarm passed over his face. “Please don’t. Although I’m sure Dr. Oliver wouldn’t mind stepping in.”
“You’ve got that right,” Paul said.
We both sort of lunged at each other, as I halfway fell into his arms. He was kissing me so thoroughly that I only caught a glimpse of Otto out of the corner of my eye as he shook his head, then disappeared in another flash of light.
Awhile later, Jeff coughed and said, “Um, could you two break it up? We probably should get out of here.”
I refused to be embarrassed, but I did pull away from Paul. “Hate to say it, but he’s probably right.”
“True.” He let me go and we both stood. For the first time he appeared to notice the dead body of the hybrid on the floor a few feet away. “What happened?”
“Hurricane Persephone,” Raymond replied.
For a second or two he said nothing, and then understanding flickered in his eyes. “Damn.”
“No kidding,” said Raymond, who bent to pick up the gun from the dead guard’s hand. “Can we get going now?”
The rest of us chorused our agreement, and we hurried out of the cell. Once we had gotten in the elevator, though, Paul hesitated, his hand hovering over the control panel. “Which way out? Last time we went through the motor pool, but…”
“No need,” I said. “Nobody’s going to stop us from walking right out the front door.”
Jeff snorted, but Raymond only nodded, and Paul smiled and pressed the button. It seemed I was going to have to revise my opinion of Raymond. Maybe the experience of being possessed by an alien had brought him new insights, or maybe he only seemed improved in contrast to Jeff. I’d been wondering why the aliens hadn’t possessed Jeff as w
ell, and thought maybe even they couldn’t stomach the idea of being stuck inside his head.
At any rate, I was proved correct, because when the door opened on the first level, it was completely deserted, unless you counted the bodies of dead hybrids and alien possessees. There weren’t as many as I had thought, though.
“Where is everyone?” Paul asked, gazing around even as we hurried down the main corridor.
“Run off,” I replied, knowing that was the simple truth. “A few are hiding, I think, on the lower levels. Didn’t know what to do when their lords and masters all suddenly dropped dead.”
“Oh, they’ll regroup,” Jeff put in.
“I suppose so,” I said. “But by then we’ll be long gone.”
The main entrance turned out to be a small, unprepossessing metal door that opened out into a box canyon filled with scrub pines and more of the omnipresent juniper and manzanita. No one would have ever seen it, which made perfect sense. Most of the personnel on the base probably came and went through the motor pool area, anyway.
By that time it was almost full dark. Maybe some last dregs of sunset lingered far out on the western horizon, but of course we couldn’t see it, trapped as we were inside the canyon walls. With Paul in the lead — he had more wilderness experience than any of the rest of us — we slipped and slid and somehow negotiated our way westward. I didn’t really have a plan. I just figured if we could make it out to Dry Creek Road, then maybe we could try to flag down someone and catch a ride.
We broke free of the canyon and emerged into the more or less open area beyond it. Off to the south and west, I thought I could faintly see some lights from one of the residential areas that lined Dry Creek.
“That way,” Paul said, and the rest of us just nodded, too tired and thirsty for speech.
As we moved toward the lights, I realized that several of them were getting bigger and brighter, and were heading in our direction.
I’d gratefully handed over my gun to Paul. It glinted as he pulled it out of his waistband and held it at the ready. Raymond quickly followed suit.
We could have run, but where? There was no cover anyplace close by, and all four of us were tired and winded. It was probably better to stand our ground.
A large dark vehicle skidded to a stop a few feet away. The passenger-side window rolled down, and Lance stuck his head out and grinned at us. “Thought you kids might need a lift.”
* * *
KARA’S HOME WAS, like most of the houses in Sedona, Southwest in style. But instead of being decorated in UFO kitsch like her shop, it was warmly casual, with well-worn Spanish mission–style furniture and colorful pottery and art that I guessed was the work of local artisans. Seemingly from thin air she conjured a pitcher of margaritas, and some amazingly good pizza was delivered just a short time after she poured the first round of drinks.
I sat on the couch next to Paul. His arm was around me, and he didn’t lift it even as he reached forward to snag another piece of pizza. It felt more right than anything I’d ever experienced to have him there beside me.
“How did you know we would be there?” he asked.
Kara already had the better part of a margarita inside her, or she probably wouldn’t have had the nerve to stick out a finger and tap Lance on the side of the temple. “Our resident remote viewer. Who else?”
For some reason he didn’t appear too annoyed by the liberty. “Yeah, it’s like a real live version of the Psychic Friends Network.”
Kiki half-choked on a mouthful of pizza. “Except yours actually works.”
Michael Lightfoot had been quietly watching the proceedings, barely touching the margarita on the coffee table in front of him. He glanced over at me, dark eyes sober. “But it’s really over.”
I nodded. “Well, that particular little plot. God knows what they’ll hatch up next, but we’ve got some breathing room.”
“I’d say,” Raymond commented. “Took out all their soldiers, all the brass, too, from what we could see. It was like Persephone was some sort of smart bomb.”
Everyone turned to look in my direction. Paul’s arm tightened around me for a second, as if to provide reassurance.
“Make up your mind,” I said lightly. “First I was a hurricane, and now I’m a smart bomb.” With a nonchalance I didn’t feel, I ran a finger along the salt on the rim of my glass, then took a large swallow of margarita. “Let’s just say something was working through me. I still don’t know exactly what happened.”
Which was only the truth. Now, with some distance between me and the installation, and some time to absorb the events that had led to our escape, I could only conclude that I had to have been the conduit for some other sort of power. Maybe it was the power of Otto and his people, being channeled through a human vessel so they could maintain some sort of distance, if only a fictional one.
It was better than thinking that destructive energy had come only from me.
As if knowing the subject was a touchy one, Lance said, “Well, it sounds as if it was a team effort.”
“Oh, yes,” I said immediately, gratified and a little surprised Lance of all people would be so perceptive. “I mean, there’s no way I would have been able to destroy all those tainted files if Jeff hadn’t gotten inside the mainframe.”
“That must have been some hack,” Kiki commented. She smiled at Jeff, who appeared startled to be the object of such attention. “I do a little myself, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have been able to break into something with that level of security.”
And Jeff, who had wedged himself into the far corner of the couch as if to separate himself from the festivities, actually appeared to be at a loss for words. He mumbled something about it not being that big a deal, while Kiki beamed at him and Adam, who was sitting next to her on the floor by one end of the cocktail table, frowned, as if wondering why she’d be paying a scruffy computer hacker such particular attention.
The phone rang, and Kara excused herself to go answer it. A companionable silence fell while we munched pizza and sipped our margaritas. I hadn’t realized it was possible to be so tired and yet so content at the same time. A few days earlier I hadn’t known any of these people, and now I felt surrounded by friends in a way that I never had back in L.A. Yes, even Raymond and Jeff, prickly and odd as they could be.
Kara came back into the room and said, “That was my friend Miguel. He’s the night manager at one of the resorts here. He’s got a room ready for you two — I figured you weren’t in any shape to drive back to Los Angeles tonight.”
Of course we weren’t…but that didn’t answer the question as to whether Paul even intended to go back to L.A. True, his luggage was still presumably back at the Sheraton Universal, but he could probably have it sent on to New Mexico if necessary. Here in Sedona, we were halfway between our two homes. It would have been simple enough for him to go his way and me to go mine.
He said smoothly, with no hesitation, “Thanks, Kara. You’re right — I know I don’t want to head west after everything that happened today, and I’m pretty sure Persephone feels the same way.”
Relief coursed through me, warm as the weight of Paul’s arm around my shoulder. “That was thoughtful of you,” I added.
“No problem.” She reached down to the coffee table and retrieved her margarita. “I’d offer to put you up here, but the spare bedroom has sort of turned into a storage room. I’ve got all kinds of crap piled on the bed. But Miguel will take care of you. He said he had a last-minute cancellation, so it’s no trouble at all.”
Raymond cleared his throat. “Um, not to be a bother, but I won’t be able to rent a car until tomorrow — ”
Kara looked stricken. It was clear she’d completely forgotten that Jeff and Raymond were also stranded here in Sedona. “Well, I can call Miguel back — ”
“They can crash at my place,” Kiki said. “That is, as long as you don’t mind a fold-out couch.”
Her words were directed at Raymond, but she was lookin
g at Jeff as she spoke. Adam scowled again.
Raymond must have picked up on the vibe, because he said hastily, “I think we’d both be happy with a spare piece of floor at this point, so a sofa bed sounds great. Thanks.”
With that arranged, Kara smiled and nodded, and the conversation moved on to a lively speculation as to what the aliens’ next move might be. I didn’t participate much, content to listen to the others trade ever wilder ideas. I noticed Paul was mostly silent as well. No doubt he was even more tired than I was. After all, I hadn’t died that day.
* * *
WE DROVE to the resort in my Volvo, which we’d retrieved from the UFO Depot’s parking lot before following the van to Kara’s house. It wasn’t far. Then again, I was starting to get the impression that nothing was all that far away in Sedona.
As promised, Kara’s friend Miguel did take excellent care of us, leading us to a secluded cottage on the resort’s grounds, not all that far from Oak Creek. After he left, I opened the windows, and a gentle night breeze, overlaid with the soft, whispering sounds of the creek, drifted into the sitting area.
Neither Paul nor I said anything for a minute. My luggage had still been safe in the trunk of the Volvo, so I had the spare clothes and toiletries for both Paul and me that I’d retrieved from the motel in Pomona. Was that only the day before yesterday? Somehow it seemed as if it had taken place a thousand miles away, and happened to an entirely different person.
I busied myself with putting things away and setting out our personal-care items in the vanity area. Somehow I found myself tongue-tied now that I was alone with Paul. I knew what I wanted, but, despite all the powers that had manifested in me, I still didn’t know if he wanted the same thing.
He came to meet me in the bedroom, a glass of water in each hand. “I thought you could use this.”
“Thank you.” I took it from him gratefully; while pizza and margaritas were fun, neither of them was much good for rehydration after a grueling day.
“No, thank you.”
“For what?”
A lift of the shoulders. “For everything?”
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