All the Wounds in Shadow

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All the Wounds in Shadow Page 15

by Anise Eden


  Asa shrugged. “I figured she would be back by dinner. I thought that surely she would think about things and change her mind. I opened a bottle of wine, sat down, and waited. But she didn’t come back. As I finished a second bottle, I started to think back to my younger years, remembering my days as a political activist with Ernesto and others. I remembered how we tried to elude the security forces and intelligence agencies, and our trick of hiding information in Derby packs. As I thought about Jenny’s activities and those of her fishy colleagues, some old, self-protective instinct awakened in me. It told me to hide the flash drive with Ernesto, just to be on the safe side.” He chuckled. “Ernesto must have thought I was going mad when I wandered into his store, drunk, asking him to hold the pack for me. But, God bless him, he simply took it from me without asking any questions. I told him that either I or one of my friends would come back for it.” With a guffaw, he said, “You know, when I first started to feel sick, I blamed it on a bad bottle of wine. Thank God I’d gone to Ernesto’s before I became too ill.”

  We sat in silence for some time, as I imagined how Braz must have sat, waiting for Jennifer to return. He had shown so much courage—on his behalf, but mostly on hers—and now he was losing his life for it.

  As though he knew where my thoughts had gone, he said, “Don’t worry about me. I have no regrets. I have worked enough and loved enough to make my life worthwhile. I am not sad to be going soon. I know that Pedra is waiting for me, and truthfully, ever since she died, I have been longing for the moment we would see each other again.”

  I could understand something of how he felt. There had been many moments when I’d longed to be with my mother again—so much so that, at times, dying in order to make it happen didn’t seem like such a bad trade off. But that was before I met Ben.

  “Amada, Abbott’s men are going to go after her, aren’t they?”

  I didn’t have the courage to lie to him. “Yes, they will.”

  “Then do something for me,” he said. “She has been taken down the wrong path, but she has a good heart. Please ask Skeet to invite her to help them make a case against the others. If they give her the opportunity to do the right thing, I know she’ll take it. Tell them it was my dying wish, if necessary. Tell her.”

  “I will,” I said, determined to honor his memory by honoring his belief in her, even if she had trampled all over it. “But Braz, aren’t you even a little angry at her? She tried to kill you!”

  “No need to be delicate, my dear. She has killed me. Hah! Not many people get an opportunity to say that, do they?” When he spoke again, though, his voice rumbled. “Of course I am furious with her! She didn’t believe in herself, and so now here I am, stuck on all of these machines. I hope that if my death does anything, it cures Jenny of her ridiculous belief that she belongs among those monsters.”

  Unbelievable. Braz was dying because of her, but he was still fighting for her. “You know,” I said softly, “I think I’m starting to fall for you, too, Braz.”

  “Of course you are,” he said, instantly in better cheer. “Don’t worry, I promise not to tell Ben.”

  I laughed. How was I laughing? What about the situation could be remotely funny? And yet we both laughed, and it felt perfectly natural.

  As much as I would have preferred to linger there as long as I could, Braz’s mention of Ben reminded me of the contingent of people waiting for me to tell them what I’d learned. “Is there anything else you can remember that you want to share or that you think would be useful to us?”

  “Hmm.” He rubbed his chin again. “I don’t think so. I’m sure Skeet and your marines will do a better job of figuring out the information on the disk than I could. And you have done quite enough for me already. I’m so sorry that my stupid, brash plan put you into danger.”

  “It’s okay. I’m just glad it all worked out.” I thought about telling Braz that Skeet was going to find good homes for his plants, but that felt too much like the sort of thing you would tell someone just before saying good-bye, and I wasn’t ready for that.

  “Only one request, Amada, if I may.”

  “Sure, Braz. Anything.”

  Asa shifted around uneasily, illustrating Braz’s discomfort. “These machines—all of this. If you have everything you need from me, I would like to be released so that I may join Pedra as soon as possible.”

  A cold rock settled in the middle of my chest. My thoughts flashed back to being in the hospital room with my mother as she slowly drifted away from me. “Braz, I can’t….”

  “No, no, my dear. You misunderstand. I would never put this responsibility on your shoulders. I only want you to relay that message to my physician. That is all I’m asking.”

  “Oh, okay,” I said with a catch in my throat. “I’ll tell him.”

  “I will miss you, Amada, and we only just met.” As he continued, his tone took on a new urgency. “You are a rare and precious thing. You must take great care of yourself, because you are not of this world. This world is brutal, painful. Your soul is of the next world, on loan to this one to bring light and healing. Promise to protect yourself, and let those who love you protect you. Otherwise the ugly things will weigh you down, and the temptation will become too great for you to cut your ties to this life and fly into the next one before your time.”

  Again, I thought of my mother. Her spirit had spoken to me through Kai during my initiation ritual the previous week. Braz’s words echoed her description of what had led up to her suicide. My mother had also warned me that if I didn’t take care of myself, I might meet the same fate she had. But I had no intention of letting that happen. “I promise. I’ll miss you too, Braz.”

  “Go now,” he said. “Tell them what I told you, what I remembered. And tell my doctor the favor I have asked. This absurd, wonderful journey is almost at an end.”

  I leaned over and hugged Braz as gently as I could, saying, “I’m hugging you right now.”

  “I cannot feel your touch,” he said, “but I feel your heart. Thank you.”

  “Thank you, too.” I caught sight of my pendant on the table and fastened it around my neck.

  When I stepped into the hallway, Kai and Ben were pacing like two expectant fathers outside of an old-fashioned birthing suite. “I’m done,” I said to Kai. He gave me a quick squeeze and then went into the room to un-trance Asa.

  As I turned to Ben and saw the concern on his face, all of the emotions from my conversation with Braz rose to the surface. My eyes again filled with tears. Before I even said anything, Ben’s arms were around me. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he murmured, stroking my hair.

  And maybe for the first time, in my heart, I believed him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ben and I went to the conference room. We reviewed my notes, and I filled him in on everything Braz had told me. As we were wrapping up, Hector joined us to get my description of Jennifer. It turned out that he had been a police sketch artist before joining the Marines. At first, Hector didn’t look at me directly and spoke only when necessary. But the tension between us subsided as I described the vision of Jennifer I’d seen when I submerged into Braz, and Hector began to draw. The marines already had her ID photo from Georgetown and some images from security cameras at Ernesto’s store and Braz’s apartment building, but Captain Abbott wanted to make sure all of our information matched up before they went on the hunt.

  Ben left us to our work, taking my notes and promising to share everything I’d told him with the captain. By the time Hector and I were finished, he had drawn what I considered to be a nearly photographic likeness of Jennifer. My genuine admiration for his work further defrosted relations between us. Much to my relief, when I made my awkward apology for having deceived Kevin and him, he accepted it good-naturedly.

  Hector and I delivered the sketch to Captain Abbott’s office. “That’s her,” the captain confirmed after comparing the drawing to the other images they’d gathered. “Let’s get cracking.” Hector and
a few other marines who had gathered in the office started to pack various printouts and electronic devices into green duffle bags. I wondered where Ben was.

  Unsure of the right method to get an officer-in-charge’s attention, I raised my hand. “Um, Captain Abbott?”

  His head snapped around as though he’d forgotten I was there. “Yes?”

  “Did Ben tell you what Braz said?” I asked. “His dying wish about Jennifer?”

  Captain Abbott looked at me as though it were a burden to have to explain things to a civilian. “As perplexed as I am that Dr. Belo isn’t eager to have Jennifer executed immediately, be assured that we fully share his desire to persuade her to cooperate with us in nailing those other three bastards. It would be much faster, cleaner, and more cost-effective than any of the alternatives.”

  I guess everyone has their priorities, I thought, chagrined. Somehow I found the courage to press my point home. “But I think…. I mean, also, he kind of wants you to be nice to her.” The look on Captain Abbott’s face prompted me to clarify. “Not to hurt her, at least. And to reward her cooperation.”

  Although it was hard to tell because he was always so prickly, I thought I saw him bristle. “I appreciate your concern, but you are out of your depth here, Miss Duncan, and so is Dr. Belo.” Captain Abbott leaned out of the office door and addressed my ever-present guards. “Please take Miss Duncan back to her room.”

  Apparently my guards’ shift had changed again. Nessa and Kevin appeared in the doorway. I scowled at Captain Abbott, but he had already forgotten about me and was going over some papers with Hector.

  As we walked, Kevin and Nessa chatted amicably, using so many acronyms and Marine Corps slang words that I couldn’t understand what they were saying. It brought home to me once again that I was an outsider in their world. It was almost a relief to get back to the room, where my isolation was absolute.

  I didn’t know where any of the members of our group had gone. No doubt they were all busy doing useful things. But a small feeling of pride crept in as I realized that I, too, had done something to help this time—and without creating chaos in the process. Since there seemed to be no immediate need for my services, I decided to reward myself with a long, hot bath. Who knew when I would get another opportunity?

  I left my clothes in a pile on the bed and ran only the hot water at first, filling the bathroom with steam. I poured in a few drops of shampoo to create a bubble bath. When the tub was almost full, I added a few shots of cold water. Then I lowered myself in, invigorated by the sensation of searing heat on my skin.

  My hair floated around me like a dark brown cloud. I closed my eyes and imagined that I was in a luxurious hotel suite somewhere else in the world—or better yet, in my own house. I tried to picture the familiar objects in my bathroom, letting my mind’s eye wander into my bedroom, my kitchen….

  The anxiety of the past few days began to melt into the water. I dunked my head under and surfaced feeling baptized, cleansed. The whole subbasement nightmare would soon be behind me. Ben and I would get back to a normal life, and after I finished my training, we could even start to have a normal relationship.

  “Mmm,” I purred as I thought about all of the “normal” things I wanted to do with Ben. I closed my eyes and splashed more steaming hot water over my face and the tops of my breasts. Then I made the mistake of opening my eyes and looking down at my body, distorted and wavy under the water’s surface. I was pale and soft with outsized curves, and not a sign of muscle definition anywhere. It was a decidedly civilian body, untroubled by hard effort or self-discipline. Kevin had been right; I was soft.

  I’d been both surprised and encouraged by the understandings Ben and I had reached in our conversation following my escape. But he’d still had to stop himself before telling me why Yankee Company was formed. How many other things was Ben going to have to keep from me forever?

  The question of why Ben wanted to be with me once again reared its ugly head. Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to choose to be with another marine, or at least someone with a similar security clearance? Then he could be himself without reservation. Was I just a novelty to him? I hoped that wasn’t it, because novelty always wore off. Or was it really the fact that I was an empath? Of course he might be fascinated by someone who sat squarely in the crosshairs of his field of interest and his life’s work. But I didn’t want that to be the main reason he cared for me.

  Who cares if your gifts attract him? I reasoned with myself. They’re part of who you are, and Ben himself said they would never go away. Would I rather that he was repulsed by them? And wasn’t it better for me to be with someone who could understand me on a paranormal level? Still, when I considered the possibility, something sharp pricked my heart.

  The bath was growing tepid. I climbed out of the tub and wrapped myself in a towel. I’ll bet Pedra never wondered for a moment why Braz loved her, I thought. Even though I knew it wasn’t fair to him, I felt a flash of anger at Ben.

  Poor Braz was probably lying alone in his room, waiting to die. As I put on some fresh clothes, my stomach growled repeatedly. I would go spend some time with Braz—right after I asked my guard to take me to the mess hall for lunch.

  I wondered if it were possible for my life to get any more bizarre.

  • • •

  Much to my delight, lunch was mac and cheese, one of my favorite comfort foods. Eve and Asa were in the mess hall as well, so we were finally able to catch up a bit. While I had spent a lot of time with Asa recently, most of it had been while talking to Braz. Asa confirmed that he didn’t remember any of the conversations that took place while he was in the trance. Much to my relief, he also reassured me that he didn’t have any headaches afterwards.

  “That reminds me,” I said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you a stupid question.”

  “No such thing. Go for it.”

  I was pretty sure that there was such a thing as a stupid question, and I was about to ask one. “Why do you shave your head? Does it help with telepathy or something?”

  Asa looked around to make sure no one else was within earshot. Then he said, “I’ve been shaving it since I was twenty. I had early-onset male pattern baldness, so I figured, zhoop zhoop!” He mimed shaving his shiny brown dome with an electric razor. “Instant badass!” He grinned. “But don’t tell anybody. I always tell people that being bald is a Reiki thing, that it keeps my crown chakra open.”

  Eve giggled at that, but then expressed disappointment that Asa wasn’t having any more headaches. Apparently she enjoyed having an excuse to stick needles into him. It was some consolation to her, though, that she was learning so much from working on Braz. Never had Eve had the opportunity to work with medical personnel in the same room and on the same patient. She said it was fascinating to collaborate with them and discover how their different methods of healing could complement one another.

  Still, we all commiserated about our cabin fever. Stuck down in that subbasement, we were even losing track of what day it was. They both expressed envy that I had escaped for a little while, even though it had caused all kinds of trouble. Eve said that she and Asa were planning a way for us to celebrate once my guard was removed. Knowing that they were thinking about ways to lift my spirits improved my mood considerably.

  Asa asked if I wanted him to come visit Braz with me, but I told him that I didn’t need to bother our patient with any further interrogations. I just wanted to sit with him; it didn’t seem right to me that he should be alone. Eve and Asa agreed, so we decided to visit in shifts so that someone would always be by Braz’s side.

  When my guards delivered me to Braz’s room, I was surprised to find that he wasn’t alone after all. Skeet had taken up residence in Asa’s chair and was sitting quietly. I knocked on the open door. Startled, Skeet looked up at me.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you,” I whispered. “I just came to sit with Braz, but I can leave you two alone.”

  “No need,” Skeet said, also keeping h
is voice soft. “Come on in. I’m sure Braz would appreciate having your company. I certainly would.”

  I sat in my usual chair next to Braz’s bed. “He looks paler.”

  “He does. I think he’s nearing the end.” Skeet cleared his throat. “Ben told me what you said, that he wants to be taken off life support. I let his physician know.”

  “Thank you.” I fussed around Braz a bit, tucking in his blankets and smoothing his hair away from his face.

  “You like him too, huh?” Skeet asked. “It’s hard not to.”

  “Yeah. He’s one of a kind, for sure.”

  We sat with our own thoughts for a few moments before Skeet spoke again. “Is everything okay between you and Ben?”

  At first, I wondered what he was talking about. But then I remembered that he had witnessed the tension between us after the marines had hauled me back to base. It felt too awkward to discuss Ben with a man who was a virtual stranger, though. “Everything’s fine.”

  “Glad to hear it.” That was followed by an uncomfortable silence, which Skeet mercifully broke. “You know, the MacGregor Group is very highly regarded at NIMH. Dr. MacGregor does a lot of excellent research on the use of paranormal gifts for healing purposes. I always read her papers with great interest.” He leaned towards me, his eyes alight. “Have you talked to her yet about the competing theories about the origins of paranormal gifts? I understand that she’s investigating Bronze Age history. Very exciting stuff.”

  My eyes widened. A prominent NIMH research scientist was interested in the Bronze Age origins debate? “She mentioned it briefly.”

  “Well, believe me, it’s nothing less than fascinating. If I were you, I would ask her to fill you in at the first opportunity.”

 

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