Children of Eternity Omnibus

by P. T. Dilloway

  “Yes, and your father too. Do you remember him?” Joey shook his head. “Your father is a very nice man named Judah. He’s a fisherman. He spends most of the time on the water in his boat. Do you remember?”

  “No,” Joey said. “Why would anyone want to spend so much time on the sea? It looks scary.”

  “It’s not scary, dear,” Molly said. “Why you and I used to go out on a boat all the time with your aunt and parents.”

  “We did?”

  “Oh yes. I remember you and your mother liked to sit on the bow so you could feel the breeze.” She had in fact witnessed Joseph and Samantha do this several times. They would cuddle up on the prow, despite Mr. Pryde’s warnings that they’d fall off. When Veronica and Molly tried this once, Samantha hauled them back, scolding them for recklessness.

  “You and Joseph do it,” Veronica had said.

  “That’s because we’re grown-ups,” Samantha said. “When you two are older you can try it, but for now you have to sit back here.” She pressed orange lifejackets into their hands. Molly put hers on right away, but Veronica resisted, throwing the lifejacket to the ground.

  “These are for babies,” she said.

  “Now, honey, it’s just to make sure you stay safe if anything bad happens,” Samantha said. She picked up the lifejacket and put it around Veronica’s neck, fastening the straps tightly. Veronica glared at Samantha with such hatred that Molly took a step back.

  As she thought of it now, she remembered Mr. Pryde squinting at Veronica then. Molly wondered if he had recognized his sister in that glare. How could he? she thought. I’m imagining things.

  Joey blew his nose again, jolting her from her thoughts. “Where’s Daddy now?” he asked.

  “He’s out fishing,” Molly said. “That’s why he asked your aunt to take care of you until your mother comes back.”

  “Daddy doesn’t like me either,” Joey said, his lip trembling. “He doesn’t want me around.”

  “Of course he wants you around. He loves you very much, but he has to work to support you and your mother. That’s what grown-ups do.”

  “Does Mommy work?”

  “Yes. That’s why she had to go away. For her job,” Molly said, hoping he didn’t press her for details on this point. With a child as fragile as Joey, finding out his mother had died might cause him to have another sneezing fit or perhaps something even worse.

  “I wish Mommy didn’t have to work,” he said.

  “I know, but it’s because Mommy loves you that she has to work,” Molly said. “She wants you to have nice things and be able to go to a good college so you can have a bright future.”

  “I guess,” Joey said, not sounding convinced. “Do I go to school in Seabrooke?”

  “You’re the smartest boy in the whole school. When you graduate, they’ll even have you make a speech in front of all the students and their parents.” Molly had sat with Samantha, Veronica, and her brother during Joseph’s graduation from Seabrooke High School. While Veronica fidgeted in her seat, Molly listened with rapt attention as Joseph talked about a future abounding with possibilities.

  “If we choose to and apply our minds, we can defeat anything—even death,” he said. Molly shivered at this comment. Samantha flinched as though someone had struck her. If he only knew about the fountain on Eternity.

  But he couldn’t then and Molly didn’t know how to explain it to him now. If she told him about his true origin then he would be sure to ask the one question she couldn’t answer: why? Why had she and Veronica done this to him and the others? This question had kept her awake for the last two nights. Veronica had promised her plan would make Eternity a better place, but so far it had only brought death to the island. Could anything they did now make up for the loss of Samantha, Prudence, Wendell, and David? She didn’t know.

  “Is school fun?” Joey asked her.

  “Yes, dear, it’s very fun,” Molly said. “You get to read books and learn all sorts of interesting facts.”

  “Have you gone to school?”

  “No,” she said. “I haven’t had the chance.”

  Last year she and Veronica had passed by the elementary school. Molly stopped and without thinking climbed over the fence. She ran across the empty playground, ignoring the swings, slides, and monkey bars. She knelt down beneath a window, peeking over the windowsill to look inside at the rows of children her own age sitting at their desks as an old woman read to them from a book. The old woman—the teacher—paused to write a sentence on the chalkboard.

  For a moment Molly had a vision of herself standing in front of a roomful of children from Eternity. They all listened to her as she read from a book, their faces masks of concentration. When she stopped, they raised their hands to ask questions, which she answered one at a time. This vision paralyzed her with joy so that she didn’t notice Veronica tugging on her arm until Veronica pinched her. “Let’s go. School is for losers,” Veronica said.

  “I want to be a teacher when I grow up,” Molly told Samantha that night when Samantha tucked her in.

  “I’m sure you’ll be a very good teacher,” Samantha said with a faraway look on her face. “The best.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so,” Samantha said. Then she kissed Molly on the cheek and turned out the light. Molly laid in bed the rest of the night, imagining herself at the head of the classroom. No matter what Veronica said, school wasn’t for losers. Molly belonged in school.

  “Is something wrong? You’re crying,” Joey said.

  She put a hand to her eyes and found that she was crying. She wiped the tears away and forced a smile to her lips. “It’s nothing, dear. Let’s go home and put you to bed.”

  After putting Joey down for a nap, Molly went outside and this time allowed herself to cry. She had failed Joey so far as a teacher and they were both running out of time.

  Chapter 26: The Final Piece

  Samantha squinted through the field glasses at the house below. So far the only movement she’d seen had been someone turning on a light on the second floor. The silhouette of a chubby woman appeared in the window a moment and then the window went dark. Samantha checked her watch: eight o’clock. Must be an early riser, Samantha thought.

  She adjusted the camouflaged netting around herself, resisting the urge to go knock on the front door and scream for the woman to leave at once. Mrs. Pryde—at least that’s who Samantha assumed the silhouette belonged to—would never believe a crazed sister-in-law was coming to kill her. She would create a scene, perhaps bring in the local police, and then in the commotion Veronica would disappear and Samantha would have to flee before the Bureau found her.

  She squirmed at the thought of using Mrs. Pryde for bait, but with any luck, Samantha would intercept Veronica before she got into the house. If only she had time to get a sniper rifle with a nightvision sight to do this properly. Instead she had to rely on a .22 hunting rifle stolen from the back of a pick-up in Seabrooke. At least the full moon would give her enough light to see by. She looked through the rifle’s sights, wishing for a few practice shots to acclimate herself to the weapon. I’m sure I’ve used one of these before, she thought. She just couldn’t remember where or when. She would have to trust that her hands would know what to do.

  She looked through the glasses again, still seeing no sign of Veronica. She’ll wait until it’s dark, Samantha thought. She wouldn’t be stupid enough to risk someone seeing her. This left Samantha with two or three hours minimum to wait.

  She rubbed her face with one hand and yawned. Her vision blurred for a moment, the house spinning before her eyes. She tried to think of the last time she’d eaten anything. Not since waking up in Savannah and who knew how long before that. With as much running as she’d done since then it was no wonder she didn’t have any energy. But she couldn’t abandon her post now, not even for a few moments.

  She put a hand to her stomach, feeling it bulge out until a roll of skin peeked out the hem of her shirt. I’m
so hungy, she thought. Where was Mommy to take her out for ice cream? A hot fudge sundae with whipped cream and nuts and the yucky cherry on top. The way the fudge and ice cream melted in her mouth, filling it with sweetness—

  A bird burst out of a tree behind her, shaking her back to reality. Her stomach flattened into lean muscle. “I’m losing it,” she said to herself again. She needed to keep it together for a few more hours, until she apprehended Veronica. Then if she wanted to spend the rest of her days in a mental asylum thinking she was a chubby little kid she could.

  As she swept the area again, she considered that if she hadn’t met Veronica that first day in kindergarten, she might have stayed that fat, shy girl. She never would have met Andre, never would have joined the FBI. With the way things turned out, that would have been a good thing, she thought. Better to end up a fat spinster in a quiet library than to have her heart broken and being wanted for murder.

  Another two hours dragged by with no sign of Veronica. Samantha’s eyelids drooped despite her best efforts to stay awake. He’s there with her then, his warm, naked body pressed up against hers. “I love you,” he whispers. He kisses her and then runs a hand through her hair, leaving it there in her tangled tresses.

  “I love you too,” she says. She can’t believe after two years she’s here, in his bed. Lips she once thought she would feel again only in her dreams touch her cheek.

  “Why did you leave?” he asks.

  “I didn’t want you to get hurt,” she says. “Everyone I’ve ever loved has died. I didn’t want the same to happen to you.” When she says this aloud it sounds silly, like someone talking about seeing Bigfoot or UFOs. “I missed you.”

  This she knows is true. Everywhere she went after leaving him—Albuquerque, Santa Fe, Denver, St. Louis, ultimately ending up in Evanston, Illinois to attend Northwestern—she felt the void of his presence. By then it was too late.

  “I missed you too. I kept checking the papers in case your name came up.” He looks down at their intertwined feet. “After a while I sort of gave up.”

  “Who was that girl at the club?”

  “Someone my roommate fixed me up with. She didn’t mean anything to me. Not like you,” he says. He looks into her eyes and she knows he’s not lying.

  “What do we do now?” she asks.

  “Stay here, just like this, forever.” He flashes his famous grin. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

  “That’s going to be a little awkward in the bathroom, don’t you think?” she says with a laugh.

  “I’ll get you a nice long leash then.” He traces the curve of her neck with one finger. “But I couldn’t put a collar around this beautiful neck.” He reaches back to the nightstand with one hand and with the other takes hers. “I think this would look much better.”

  He holds up a diamond ring. Samantha can’t speak. Tears come to her eyes, but she makes no attempt to stop them. “I can get down on my knees if you want,” he says.

  “Oh my God,” she says at last. “Of course. Yes, yes, yes—” she continues saying this one word in her mind even as they kiss. She holds up her finger to the moonlight, the diamond sparkling blue—

  Samantha’s eyes shot open at the sound of a door creaking. Samantha looked through the field glasses, seeing a car parked down the road. She’s here! She’s already inside the house!

  Samantha threw the netting off and left the rifle on the ground. She raced towards the house with her pistol drawn, praying she wasn’t too late. She stomped up the front steps, forgetting about subtlety now. She burst through the door and started down the hallway, to the stairs.

  As she passed by a doorway, something heavy slammed into her. The pistol flew from her hand, skittering back over to the door. A fist hit her in the side of the head, knocking her sideways. She rolled over to look up at Veronica.

  “I didn’t think you’d make it,” Veronica said. “I thought maybe you’d killed too many brain cells to figure it out.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” Samantha said. She kicked Veronica between the legs, sending her tumbling back. Samantha got to her feet and with another kick spun Veronica into the kitchen. Samantha charged in after her, but Veronica slid a chair in her path.

  Samantha crashed to the floor. Before she could turn over, Veronica leapt on her with a growl and took her by the hair, slamming her head against the linoleum. Spots of light burst in front of her eyes, but she managed to reach back and elbow Veronica in the ribs. Veronica slid off her, allowing Samantha to flip over and climb on top. She pinned Veronica’s arms to the floor with her knees.

  “It’s over,” Samantha said. “You’re coming with me. We’ll get you some help. I know things were bad—”

  “You don’t know anything!” Veronica shouted. She head-butted Samantha in the chest. Samantha banged her head against the edge of the table. She saw three Veronicas charging at her; she reached out for the middle one with her legs. She flipped Veronica over her and into the wall.

  As Samantha got to her feet, a light came on. “Who’s down here? I’ve called the police,” a woman said. She came to the doorway, a chubby woman with brown hair, wearing a pink bathrobe. She carried a child’s baseball bat in one hand.

  “Get out of here!” Samantha screamed, but too late.

  Veronica swatted the bat from Mrs. Pryde’s hand and pressed her close. A butcher knife appeared in Veronica’s hand, poised over Mrs. Pryde’s throat. “Now it’s over,” Veronica said.

  “Who are you?” Mrs. Pryde asked.

  “You don’t know your own sister-in-law? What a shame.”

  “Sister-in-law?”

  “I don’t suppose my dear brother would have ever mentioned me. After all, he was only a year old when I killed that bastard father of ours.”

  “Veronica, I know he hurt you, but this won’t solve anything,” Samantha said. “Put down the knife and let’s talk.”

  “Oh yes, let’s talk like a couple of old friends. You don’t care about me. You never did. No one ever did.”

  “You were my friend, Veronica. Whatever happened between us, this isn’t the answer. Let her go and we can work this out. Please, let me help you.”

  “I don’t need your help!” Veronica threw Mrs. Pryde into Samantha. They stumbled to the ground, landing in a heap.

  “Mom?” called a small voice from the stairs.

  “Joey, no!” Mrs. Pryde threw herself towards Veronica, right onto the knife. She stood in the center of the kitchen for a moment, the blade sticking out of her chest, and then she crumpled to the floor.

  Samantha reached into her jacket for the switchblade she kept in the pocket. She plunged it into Veronica’s thigh and then flipped Veronica back against the stove. Veronica lay there unmoving, but still alive.

  Samantha rolled over to Mrs. Pryde’s side. She removed the knife from between the woman’s breasts and said, “You’re going to be all right. Just hang on.”

  Before she could stand up to call for an ambulance, Mrs. Pryde took her arm. Their eyes met and with her final breath, Mrs. Pryde said, “Take care of Joey.”

  The woman’s eyes rolled back into her head. Samantha stared at the wound in Mrs. Pryde’s chest, the blood oozing down to her stomach.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Fuller. There was nothing we could do for the baby,” the doctor says.

  “The baby?” she asks.

  “You didn’t know?” the doctor asks. She shakes her head. “I’m sorry you have to find out like this, but you were six weeks along, I’d say.”

  “Oh God,” she says. Of course she should have known: the late period, the morning sickness—why hadn’t she seen it? “What about him? What about Andre?”

  The doctor puts a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. We did everything we could for him, but there was too much damage.”

  She turns her head away from the doctor so that he can’t watch her cry. Andre is dead. Her fiancée, the only man she’d ever loved, gone. And a child—their son or daughter—de
ad before drawing a single breath.

  She spends the rest of the night facing towards the wall, lacking the energy to stem the tide of sadness washing over her. A pain radiates from her stomach and she knows it’s not the pain of the knife wound but from the life extinguished in the womb. Our baby, she thinks. In her mind the baby grows into a child, a little girl with her red skin and Andre’s turquoise eyes. Before her eyes the girl becomes a teenager and then a young woman and then she begins to dry up and fade away, at last turning to dust.

  In the morning, the nurses admit a woman calling herself Sergeant Reddy of the state police. Jackie refuses to look at the policewoman. “Miss Fuller, I know this is difficult, but I need to ask you a few questions,” Sergeant Reddy says.

  “I don’t care,” Jackie says.

  “Please, ma’am, any information you have may help us catch the person who did this to you.”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “Don’t you want to bring this person to justice?”

  “Justice? Hah!”

  “I know you’ve been through a lot, but you have to help us find this person before he hurts someone else.”

  Jackie turns to face Sergeant Reddy, who takes an involuntary step back. Tears continue to stream from her swollen eyes as she says, “You want to know what happened? Fine, I’ll tell you. It won’t change anything.”

  She wakes up to the smell of bacon frying. Her stomach roils and churns until she has to bolt from the tent and collapses onto her knees behind some bushes. She empties the contents of her stomach onto the coarse red stones, heaving until there is nothing left.

  “What’s wrong?” Andre asks.

  “Must have been something I ate,” she says. She wipes her mouth and then gets to her feet. Only after rinsing her mouth out with water and brushing her teeth does she let him kiss her.

  “We don’t have to do anything today,” he says. “We can stay here like a couple of newlyweds.”

  “But we’re not married yet,” she says.

  “A minor technicality,” he says and kisses her again.