She’ll be fine, thought SK, if she can get out of here. He moved to the side where he could see her.
“I’ll be okay,” she whispered.
Joel looked down at him.
“I’m still on duty, but you’ll take care of her?”
“Of course,” said SK, grinding the words out.
“Looks like your little friend is going to look out for you,” said Joel.
SK’s hands balled up into fists.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
SMALL, SMALL PEOPLE. Too small, thought Tiamat. She would need more because of their size–many more–but they were scarce now.
She raised her head to look up at the sky but it was not the real sky. How she longed to feel the real sun fall on her fur. She closed her eyes, remembering it–hot and bright and in motion. She opened her eyes. There was nothing else like it, especially here in the multiverse.
It turned out that the middleworld was no better than the underworld in that way–no real sun, no real sky, and there were certainly not enough people. Over the tops of the trees she could see the forest stretch out in every direction, with the black lake behind her. She raked her tail back and forth, watching the trees, boulders and dirt fly.
It felt like nothing, like everything else down here. Except for the people, of course. Their terror was thrilling. The more she got, the more she wanted, but where were they now? Her tail flicked at the thought, landing with a thump that splintered the trees under it.
She sniffed the air. In the old days, the smoke of the altars had filled her nostrils. The smell of burning flesh had wafted up. Even now, the memory made her salivate. There had been altars throughout the land. Where the people had not made offerings, she had wrought destruction. It had been a hard choice at first, between the savory offerings and the terror of people.
She unfurled her wings and launched upward, scooping great wingfulls of air beneath her, pumping higher and higher. She screamed for the sake of making a sound, hearing her voice echo back from the distant mountains beyond the lake. She had circled them many times.
As she looked down at the path, there was a flash of light. She dived toward it, screaming with excitement, but as she got closer she saw who it was.
Her again.
Tiamat almost veered away, out of boredom, and then she thought of killing this one as well. The thought made her stomach grumble. Yes, since people had forgotten how to make sacrifices to her, she would make sacrifices of them. If a beak could smile, she would have smiled.
Even as she headed directly for the woman, she sensed no terror. Out of frustration she continued her dive.
The woman bowed low, in the ancient gesture.
Tiamat pulled up at the last instant and, with a great whoosh of trailing wind she landed on the path, nearly blowing the woman over. As she furled her wings, she crouched and snarled but the woman seemed not to notice.
“Were you not satisfied with the shaman, Great One?”
Tiamat snapped her jaws with a deafening crunch.
“There are more,” said the woman.
Tiamat stomped her clawed feet and the woman teetered but regained her balance. Then Tiamat screeched, causing the woman to cover her ears as she waited for her to finish.
“It takes time, Great One.”
Tiamat screeched again.
“You are in the middleworld, are you not? Soon, you will be in the real world. I am nearly ready. The other shamans have been a…complication.”
Her great tail wagged from side to side, scattering what few trees were standing in the vicinity.
“They will not stop us,” said the woman. “They cannot. But they seek Marduk.”
The ancient enemy! Tiamat unfurled her wings and flapped furiously, sending billows of sand and dirt flying in all directions. Marduk!
“They will not reach him,” screamed the woman, her hands still covering her ears.
Tiamat calmed down. Marduk. She was not afraid of Marduk. If he should find her, so much the better. She would know his tricks this time. Tiamat looked down at the woman with a new appreciation. The small people were sometimes surprising.
“They will not reach him,” repeated the woman. “I will make sure of that.”
Yes, it is too soon to consume this one. She is still useful.
“I must go now. I cannot raise suspicion, but the gate will be open soon.”
The woman disappeared in a flash of light.
Tiamat looked down at the scar on her belly, then screeched in anger as she launched into the sky. Marduk! How she would relish a chance to meet Marduk again.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
“SUNNY, WHAT ARE you doing here?” asked Livvy.
Somehow, Sunny didn’t look right. Even though Livvy knew she was dreaming, Sunny didn’t look like Sunny.
“What are you doing here?” Sunny asked.
It didn’t sound like Sunny either.
Livvy looked around her dream, wondering if she ought to wake up at this point. Where were they? It wasn’t any place she recognized. It was a desert, that much she could tell. But as far as she could remember, she’d never been in a desert.
“Were you looking for me?” asked non-Sunny.
Surprised, Livvy turned back toward her.
“Looking for you? Yeah, maybe I was.”
“What would you want with me? I wasn’t very much help.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” said Livvy.
“No, it was yours.”
The words stung her. Sunny might as well have slapped her.
“Okay, I think it’s time for this dream to be over.”
“You don’t like to hear that do you?” asked a voice from behind her.
She whirled around and, at first, there only seemed to be cacti. One of them moved though and had legs and it was walking. It wasn’t a cactus after all. As it lowered its arms, it turned out to be Min.
“Min?” asked Livvy.
“Why are you here?” asked Min, who didn’t look or sound like Min.
Confused, Livvy said, “I’m not. This is a dream.”
“Are you sure?” said another voice.
Livvy turned back to Sunny and saw that Indra was with her, clumps of dirt caked all over her.
“Indra?” Livvy asked, feeling a panic start to creep over her.
“Maybe she’s come to apologize,” said Sunny.
“It’s a little late for that,” said Min, laughing in a shrill tone.
“But I didn’t do anything,” said Livvy, backing away from Indra.
“I never said you did,” said Indra, advancing on her.
“It’s what you didn’t do,” said Min, close behind her.
“I did everything I could!” she yelled.
She felt an icy grip on her shoulder.
“No Min, don’t!”
Indra and Sunny each seized an arm as she struggled.
“No, please! I did everything I could!”
“Livvy,” said another voice, calmly. “Livvy, wake up.”
Oh, she wanted to. She wanted very much to wake up.
“Where do you think you’re going?” said Indra, breathing in her face. Her breath smelled like rotten meat.
“Livvy, honey, it’s not your fault,” said that calm voice again. A figure began to coalesce in front of her. Livvy sensed who it might be. Oh no, she thought. Please no! She struggled frantically against her captors.
“Let go of me,” she screamed.
Finally, as the figure swam in midair like a roiling cloud of smoke, legs descended and arms and a head appeared.
“Oh gods,” Livvy whimpered.
It was her mother.
“No!” she screamed.
“Why couldn’t you save me, Livvy?” asked her mother.
Livvy tried to jerk free but couldn’t.
“She’s not really very good at saving people,” said Indra.
“She pawned your ring, you know,” said Sunny.
Her mom slowly shook her head with a sad little sm
ile.
“I know, honey, don’t worry about it.”
“I had to pawn the ring!” she yelled.
“It’s all right, honey. You just wake up now.”
“But I can’t!”
“Livvy! Wake up!” SK shouted.
Suddenly, her eyes flew open and her arms flailed.
“Let go!” Livvy yelled, before she realized that she didn’t know where she was or what was going on.
“Take it easy,” said SK. “You’re all right.”
“SK,” she asked, searching for his face, breathing hard. The room was dark. “SK, is that you?”
“Yes, it’s me. You’re at my place. You’ve been sleeping on the couch. Here, let me get a light.”
He turned on a small table lamp.
She blinked, sat up and looked around the room, slowly recognizing it but feeling a strange dislocation.
“You were having a nightmare,” he said. “You were screaming.”
She pushed her hair back out of her face and he sat on the couch near her feet.
“I’m sorry I woke you up,” she said, calming down. “What time is it?”
“Four in the morning. You’ve been asleep for nearly fifteen hours. I think you were tired.”
He was wearing black silk pajamas and a black robe but his hair was a mess. She thought for a moment about what she must look like.
“SK,” she said, hesitantly. “Do you think I did the right thing?”
“Look,” he said. “You can’t blame yourself for Sunny’s death. You weren’t even there.”
“She wouldn’t have been there if it weren’t for me.”
“She was a big girl. She was making her own decisions.”
“And what about Min?”
SK shook his head.
“Liv, you were trying to do the right thing.”
“A lot of good it did,” Livvy said. “A lot of good it’s done everybody.”
“Hey,” he said, tapping her feet through the blankets. “Cut that out. At least you tried. You tried to do something. And, yes, I do think you did the right thing.”
He ran his hands through his hair.
“I just don’t know if there’s any real way to stop what’s happening,” he said finally.
“Tiamat in the middleworld,” said Livvy. “No way in or out now. How did she get there? How did she get loose in the first place?”
“I don’t know. After all this time…”
He shrugged.
“But we’ve been over this. It comes down to finding Marduk, and that’s kind of where we left off.”
“Right,” said Livvy, but she was starting to think. “Nobody’s ever seen his ziggurat though. That’s what they were trying to confirm when…when Sunny died.”
SK nodded, stifling a yawn.
“It has to be in the upperworld,” said Livvy.
“I imagine you’re right, not that it matters. Not with Tiamat waiting in the middleworld now.”
“No, I suppose not.”
They were both quiet for a moment.
“Well,” said SK, getting up. “I think–”
“What if you didn’t have to go through the middleworld to get to the upperworld?” asked Livvy.
“What?”
“I mean, do you have to go through the middleworld first?”
“That’s the only way I’ve ever heard of it being done,” said SK, thrusting his hands into his bathrobe. “From the little I’ve heard.”
“Me too,” she agreed, moving the blankets aside and putting her feet on the floor. “But what if there was a way to bypass it? I mean, they’re all multiverse.”
“Not really,” said SK. “The middleworld is the one most like this one. That’s why it’s the first one to be accessed. I’ve even heard that some shamans can only get to the middleworld, not the others. They stop there.” He shrugged. “Not very good shamans, but shamans nonetheless.”
“Well, that’s kind of what I’m saying,” she said. “Maybe there are shamans who don’t need to use the middleworld and can get directly into the others.”
SK thought about it and she watched his gaze drift over to the bookcase.
“There’s no precedent for it,” he said. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Me either, but the more I learn, the more I realize there are all kinds of things I’ve never heard of.” She considered for a moment. “But there might be someone that we can ask. And if she doesn’t know, she might know someone who does. I can ask Mamacita.”
“She’s not even a shaman,” he scoffed.
“Well, I wonder about that sometimes. Just little things she says, as though she’s been there.”
“She meets a lot of shamans, and wanna-bes. She can talk the talk, but so can I.”
“Well, it’s not going to hurt to ask,” she said flatly, standing up.
“We’re not going now, are we?” he asked, surprised.
“No,” she said heading to the kitchen. She switched on the light and they both blinked against the brightness. “I was wondering if there was anything to eat?”
“Sure,” he said, smiling. “I guess if we’re not going back to sleep, we might as well eat.”
“I feel like I haven’t eaten in a week,” she said, as he opened the refrigerator door.
“Look, we’re in luck,” he said bringing out a plastic container. “Stew.”
He dished out and then microwaved two bowls. As he placed them on the counter, steaming, he yawned. Livvy realized that, even though this was SK, probably the last thing he wanted to do right now was eat. He probably wanted to go right back to sleep.
But the last thing that Livvy wanted was to be alone, and she definitely didn’t want to go back to sleep. She sensed that somehow SK knew that.
“What?” he said, taking his seat.
She realized she’d been smiling at him.
“Nothing,” she said.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
THE POSTMORTEM SPASM wasn’t dwelt on much in medical school but Dr. Dorsey had seen a thing or two while officiating in basement admissions, better known as the hospital morgue. Most of the time a review of the chart was all that was necessary for a doctor to establish the cause of death. Cancer was cancer. It didn’t take an autopsy to reveal that cancer had killed a patient. Even so, bodies could not be released to the funeral homes until he had signed off, which meant he was down here on nearly a daily basis.
The sheet twitched again.
The degree of rigor mortis was often used in forensic investigations to help establish a time of death. However, most people outside the medical and funeral home industries didn’t know that there was a progression to it, peaking at about twelve hours after death and then lessening. It was during that time that a postmortem spasm was most likely to occur.
Dr. Dorsey looked back to the chart at the end of the gurney. Before they bagged and tagged the cadaver he would need to complete the paperwork, but he had never gotten used to the postmortem spasms. In fact, he hated it. This one was particularly twitchy.
He inched toward the chart. If any of his colleagues could see him now, they’d laugh him out of the lounge.
It wasn’t clear what produced the spasms. Directly after death, it could be explained by the residual firing of the neurons or the body relaxing, since rigor mortis didn’t start for three hours. This long after death, however, there was little data, only anecdotes.
As he reached for the chart, the sheet began to move so slowly that he didn’t realize it at first. He stopped, hand in mid-air. The sheet was definitely moving. The far end of it was rising. The corpse was sitting up.
“Oh Jesus,” he muttered, as he grabbed the clipboard and backed up.
He had heard of cadavers jackknifing, in particularly violent spasms, and that was the last thing he wanted to see. Before the sheet could slip from the face, he turned and hurried to the exit. He slammed his hand down on the large metal button to open the double doors. As he waited for them to o
pen, he saw a reflection in the window glass.
“Oh my God,” he said, as the door swung open.
He shouldn’t have looked. Its eyes were open.
He rushed out and hit the close button as he ran by. Fleeing through the outer door without turning around, he pounded his fist down on that close button too. Now moving at a full run, he reached the elevator and jabbed the call button several times before running over to the stairwell.
Forget the elevator. He’d take the stairs to the ground floor and the elevator from there. An orderly could come back down for the bag and tag.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
LIVVY CREPT CLOSE to the door, knocking so faintly that no one would hear. She pushed it open slowly and peeked in. There didn’t seem to be anyone there at first, but as she came into Min’s room she saw Sam, the brother, dozing in the chair. He started awake when the door closed.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“That’s okay,” he said, not quite awake. Then he realized who she was. “My parents aren’t here. They went home to take a shower and change.”
He had a hospital blanket draped around his shoulders and his hoodie was up.
“How’s she doing?” said Livvy, looking down at Min, who looked like she’d lost weight.
There still wasn’t a feeding tube but there was a ventilator. At least her parents had allowed that.
“Not too good,” he said, sitting up.
Livvy went to the bedside, carefully lifted the blanket so as not to disturb the saline drip, and felt Min’s hand. It was cool to the touch.
“Some different doctor stopped by and they want to run some test on her brain,” said Sam.
Livvy nodded slowly. They wanted to check brain activity, probably trying to decide if she was still alive. The breathing tube had been inserted but, without the feeding tube, she would starve to death.
It was a harsh fact of hospital life but they were there to help those that could be helped. Those they couldn’t help would be referred to a hospice organization to make the end of their lives as comfortable as possible.
“I haven’t given up,” Livvy said to Min. “You can’t either.”
Shaman, Healer, Heretic (Olivia Lawson Techno-Shaman) Page 24
