That ended the discussion.
Mr. C and Mr. S went back to what they had been discussing before. The agent gathered up his equipment and gave Cal a brief, but dirty look before walking away.
At that moment, Camm and Agent Allen scurried into the main hall from the dining room. Cal had been anticipating this meeting with Camm all day, but he still didn’t know what he was going to say to her. Breathless now, he just stared at her unable to speak.
Seeing Cal, Camm ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. As she buried her face in his shoulder, his arms crept round to hold her and he started breathing again. Excluding their brief encounter in the court room, this was the first time they had been together since Cal and Lenny drove off in Cal’s Camaro into the other Searles Valley.
Mr. C looked annoyed, but Mr. S smiled.
Camm rose up on her toes and whispered into Cal’s ear, “Don’t go. Please Cal, don’t go! Don’t go back over there with these crazy people.”
Cal was taken aback by Camm’s intensity, but was happy to see her. He took advantage of the chance to give her a big squeeze—for months he had been imagining this hug. Then carefully, he unwound himself from her arms.
“Hey, Camm! Good to see you! You look great. That black wig and green dress you wore to my hearing didn’t do you justice,” he said, a big, goofy grin spreading across his face.
Mr. C and Mr. S exchanged questioning glances, but said nothing.
For a moment, Camm and Cal stood looking at each other. Everyone else in the hall had stopped to watch. Camm was not laughing at Cal’s joke. He recognized that look of steel-hard determination in her eyes and realized she would not be distracted.
Cal sighed and took Camm by both hands. “Camm, I have to go with them. I said I would go. I made a deal with them.”
When Camm drew a breath to protest, Cal interrupted.
“Camm,” he said, “I said I’d go and I have to do it. I gave them my word.”
A brief look of defeat flew across Camm’s face. Since childhood, Camm had always been able to persuade Cal to do things her way, unless he had already made up his mind. She hated it when Cal made up his mind before she could talk to him. Cal could be stubborn. But she was stubborn too. She gathered herself, preparing for further argument.
Before she could speak, Granny grabbed both by the arm and directed them toward the dining hall. “Hey you two, I thought you’d want to spend time together before midnight. I have fresh cookies and milk in the kitchen. Let’s go eat and let these people finish their preparations.”
Indignant, Camm pulled her arm free. “You think you can just give us cookies and milk, and we’ll be quiet. We’re not kids. I’m not done here. I do not want Cal going back to that other world. You guys will just get him killed or worse!”
Granny smiled, bemused. Agent Allen stepped forward as if to say something. The rest of the hall, including Misters S and C, watched in silence. Taking Camm’s hand, Cal adroitly saved the day. “Come on, Camm; let’s go into the other room. We can talk there. Besides,” he added in a whisper, “Granny’s cookies are really, really good. No kidding!”
Camm had to smile in spite of herself. Giving Cal a gentle punch to the ribs, she chuckled. “There you go, thinking of your stomach again. You always did have a weakness for fresh baked goodies. Your nose always knew when my mom pulled something delicious out of the oven. Your timing was impeccable!”
Cal grinned back. It was a happy memory. Eating good food at Camm’s house was as close to heaven as Cal had ever gotten. He hoped those days weren’t gone forever.
Camm smiled affectionately at Cal. “Okay, lead me to these cookies. You never did do anything on an empty stomach.”
They walked through the dining room into the kitchen with Granny and Agent Allen following close behind. Everyone else returned to preparations for the midnight journey.
The kitchen was brightly lit. Reaching down into a large ice chest, Granny lifted out a glass pitcher filled with ice-cold milk. From a cupboard, he pulled out a heaping plate of chocolate chip cookies. The room filled with the aroma of brown sugar, real butter, and chocolate.
Cal could tell Camm was steeling herself to make another case that Cal should not go with the transition team. Hoping to distract her, he filled a waiting glass with milk and stuffed a whole cookie into his mouth. He closed his eyes in pure ecstasy. The cookies were still warm.
“Oh Camm, you’ve got to try these!” He held out the plate of cookies, which Camm ignored.
Agent Allen eyed Camm suspiciously. When Camm opened her mouth to speak, Agent Allen turned to Granny and punched her index finger into his bicep. “Hey, Granny, tell us about this strange tattoo on your arm. Is this from some secret society or something?”
Camm studied the tattoo with interest, seeing it now for the first time.
Agent Allen continued her challenge. “No, really, I’ve been wondering about this thing since I first saw it. What is it, some kind of code? What does it mean?”
Granny smiled as he poured himself a tall glass of milk and helped himself to one of his own cookies. Finally, he responded, “Agent Allen, why don’t you tell us first about your tattoo?”
The question clearly startled Agent Allen. “What makes you think I have a tattoo?”
Granny took a large drink of milk. “Oh, but you do. Don’t you? Don’t be evasive. Tell us about your tattoo. We’re all just dying to hear the story. There is a story? Right?”
Camm turned to Agent Allen, surprise painted all over her face. “You have a tattoo?”
Agent Allen glared at Granny for a moment, then responded to Camm, “It is nothing. Just something I got when I graduated from law school. You know, with some of my friends.”
“Come on, now, show it to us.” Granny looked awfully smug as he took a bite of cookie.
The look on Agent Allen’s face said that wherever the tattoo was on her body, she was not going to be revealing it tonight or anytime soon—at least not to anyone there in the kitchen.
Cal figured Agent Allen and Granny were just distracting Camm for a few minutes. He was glad. He was happy to spend these moments with her. Looking down, he studied the way her hair shimmered in the light. I forgot she smells so good, he thought, taking a deep breath.
Leaning gently against her shoulder, he stuffed another cookie into his mouth. “These are really good, Camm. You really gotta try one,” he mumbled.
In spite of herself, Camm took a bite of cookie. Her eyes opened wide in surprise.
Cal was happy the arguing had stopped. He tried to please Camm when he could, but he had no control in this case. Conversations were friendly, though Camm kept pushing to get on the team. She couldn’t sway either Agent Allen or Granny. When she addressed one, the other interrupted, changing the subject. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. Neither had authority in this case anyway.
As Camm leaned back against Cal, he hung an arm across her shoulders and considered the curve of her face. He knew this face so well. He had studied it his whole life. This was a study he was determined to continue. He had fought hard to get back to Camm from the first crossover. He’d fight hard to get back again.
The time passed quickly. Too soon, Mr. S was calling everyone together in the main hall. “Let’s get organized here. It’s time to go.”
The transition team lined up as directed by Mr. S. Agent Allen had point, followed by an agent with special combat training. Then came Mr. C in his wheelchair, which was motorized. Agent Kline was directly behind Mr. C to lend a strong hand if necessary. Agent Kline had the Smith & Wesson 500 strapped to his hip and extra ammo belts slung across his shoulders. Behind him were Mr. S and Cal with the final special agent bringing up the rear loaded with more weapons.
As everyone watched, Agent Kline started the hanged-man pendulum swinging.
“Doesn’t the pendulum automatical
ly start swinging on its own at midnight?” Cal asked.
Agent Kline smiled. “Good question. Normally that’s true, but the clock on the other side was damaged.” He glanced quickly in Camm’s direction. “When you were on the other side, you and Lenny did a good job putting that clock back together, and it worked well enough to bring you back to our world, but it is out of sync with the clock on our side. You boys had to start your clock manually at the same time we started ours to get both clocks working together long enough to bring you back, but otherwise, the clocks have been out of sync since the night the other clock was blasted with a shotgun.
“We’ve now augmented the internal mechanism of our clock with new timepieces I engineered specifically to allow our clock to auto-connect with the other clock, so that a coordinated manual start of both clocks would no longer be necessary. Allowing time for our clock to find and lock-in a connection with the other clock, I have started our clock manually before midnight.
“Unless I’m mistaken, this clock will pre-connect with and start the clock on the other side so that at midnight that clock will start ticking in sync with this clock. Together, both clocks will jointly regulate a stable inter-world link. The antennal field structures, built into both mansions in a mirror image of each other, will create reflecting fields that focus a stable dimensional opening, exactly encompassing each mansion.”
Mr. S nodded solemnly in agreement.
Cal grimaced in confusion. “What?”
Mr. C growled, “Too much information, Agent Kline. Cut to the quick.”
Agent Kline frowned. “The plan is to wait for the grandfather clock to strike twelve, let the transition take place, and then leave our mansion while it sits in the other world, before it can transition back here again. Everyone not on the transition team will leave this mansion before midnight to keep them from being taken across dimensional boundaries into the parallel world.”
“Wait,” Cal interrupted, looking at Camm for support. “That’s not what happened before. Camm and I were in the mansion during transitions, and when we left, before the transition reversal, we were still in our own world. Why are things different now?”
Agent Kline smiled again. “Another good question. In a transition, each mansion stays tethered to its own reality, allowing it to be pulled back to its starting point. You always left through the kitchen’s backdoor, which is this mansion’s tether to this world. Had you gone out through any other door before the transition reversal, you would have found yourself in the alternate world. Of course, once the transition has been reversed, all openings are again connected to their own world.”
Again, Mr. S nodded in solemn agreement.
Agent Kline continued. “Originally, the clocks were programmed with a six-hour pause between transition and reversal. Such a long delay gave the guardian, or green rat, time to hunt and feed in our world. I don’t think that was intentional. We don’t want to repeat that mistake, so I have reset the pause time to exactly fifteen minutes. That is enough time to come and go from either mansion when we are moving between dimensions. With so many giant predators on the other side, we don’t want to leave the door open any longer than we absolutely have to.”
Agent Kline glanced around at the whole group, making sure he had everyone’s attention. “This point cannot be over emphasized. Ready or not, the mansions will automatically switch back in fifteen minutes, so whatever we do must be completed in that window of time.”
Only when he saw all heads nodding did Agent Kline turn back to Cal again and continue with the broader explanation. “When you were trapped on the other side with the clock that could not sync automatically each night, you got that note from Mr. S allowing you to manually start the other clock at the same time this clock was starting on this side. The two clocks then linked, regulating a stable, inter-world overlap of the two mansions, allowing you to come back home.
“Unfortunately, there is no way to communicate with your friend still on the other side to have him start his clock at the same time we start this one. Without both clocks working in sync or a coordinated manual start of both clocks at the same time to sync a trans-dimensional connection, the mansions have not been able to make a transition. Now that the clocks aren’t controlling the transitional links, something else has taken control of the overlapping process, so transitions can happen at random locations in an unsystematic way.”
“Yeah, we’ve noticed,” Cal said. “But when both clocks were working in sync and a mansion transitioned, it usually took whatever was in it to the other dimension. Like when it brought my car back to this world. But sometimes a mansion didn’t bring things with it to the other side. Why not?”
Agent Kline cocked his head to one side in surprise. “What do you mean?”
Cal looked first to Camm, and then back to Agent Kline. “You know, like Hughie’s ghost-sheet costume or Mr. Samuel’s pistol, each was left behind in the transition reversal.”
Mr. C interrupted impatiently. “This is all fascinating, I’m sure, but we don’t have time for it now. Let’s save these academic discussions for another time.”
Cal interrupted in turn. “By the way, where is my car?”
Mr. S replied, “Your car is safe. We have been holding it for you, but now all non-transition team people need to go outside. The countdown to midnight has begun. Everyone not on the transition team, outside right now!”
Granny took Camm gently by the arm and pulled her away from Cal to lead her out through the front doors. Reluctantly, Cal let go of her hand and longingly watched her walk away. At first Camm went meekly enough, but then jerked her arm loose and walked back to where Cal stood.
A special agent moved to intervene, but Mr. S held up a hand. “Let Camm have her last goodbye. We have a moment.”
Camm marched up to Cal, stood on her toes, took his face firmly in her hands, and kissed him long and hard on the lips. No one was more surprised than Cal.
After the kiss, she looked him dead in the eyes and said, “You come back. We have unfinished business. Don’t do anything stupid. You hear me? No excuses. You come back to me!”
Cal could only manage a breathy, “Okay.”
Camm marched towards the front door, where Granny waited. As Camm passed Agent Allen, she stopped suddenly and placed her hand on the FBI agent’s shoulder. “You come back too. I’m sorry. I mean, you know, you come back to me too.”
They both smiled warmly. “I’ll come back and bring Cal with me.” Agent Allen held up a hand. “No kiss necessary here.” Both women laughed.
Glancing back meaningfully at Cal, Camm turned again to leave. As she passed Mr. C in his wheelchair she glared and pointed at him. Between clenched teeth, she said, “Make no mistake! I’m holding you responsible if Cal doesn’t come back. Personally responsible!”
Mr. C smiled pleasantly. It was the first smile anyone had seen on his face in weeks.
* * *
Outside, Camm stood next to Granny and waited. Even across the street, she heard the clock strike twelve through the closed front doors. With the first chime, Granny checked his watch.
After fifteen minutes, they went back into the mansion—it was again the immaculate Trona mansion. The alternate mansion had switched back. Except for Camm and Granny, the mansion was empty. Mr. C’s team had made its extra-dimensional journey and was gone from this world.
Feeling antsy now with Cal gone, Camm turned to Granny. “What now? Can we go take care of that stupid rat once and for all?”
Granny smiled, lifting an eyebrow. “That is the plan.”
Camm had been briefed on Granny by Agent Allen. Granny had all kinds of military and special-ops training and was supposed to be the most lethal agent in the NSA, so Camm pushed the point. “When we find it, I don’t want to just catch it. I already killed it once, and now we have to kill it again. This time, I want to kill it and make sure it stays
dead!”
Frowning, Granny hemmed and hawed. “Well, that’s not exactly my instructions.”
Concerned that Granny might be getting cold feet, Camm challenged him, “Do you even know how to kill it?”
Granny smiled in response to Camm’s aggressiveness. This irritated Camm, but she knew he had been briefed on her and would be expecting her to act this way, so she waited for him to answer. “I think I can kill it, if I can find it. I’ve looked all over this town for it. It is one smart rodent. But yeah, I know how to kill it. I just don’t know how to find it.”
“Don’t worry about that. I know what it wants: me.” Camm gave Granny an even look. “The rat and I have a score to settle. If you’ll kill it, I’ll be your bait.”
XI
Carefully, smoothly, soundlessly, it slinked around an outside corner of the mansion into a deep shadow. It loved the absolute darkness. The only thing better than a moonless night was a deep shadow in a moonless night.
Pitch green was swallowed up in pitch black. It could look out at the world and see everything, while nothing could see it. It had used this shadow before, many times.
It rested on its haunches, not quite relaxed, always ready to pounce or bound away at a moment’s notice. It inhaled deeply. Smells told it everything it needed to know. More could be seen with its nose than with its eyes, and it had very good eyesight in the dark.
The hated one was in its mansion. She had come home at last, to her doom. It knew her smell. It would never forget her smell. It hungered now to know her taste.
Others were with her, but they would not stop it. It had its own ways of getting in and out of the mansion, its own ways of moving around inside. Ways it had used when escaping its prison.
It would take her before the others were aware. Tonight, it would feed on her flesh at last!
Fatal Green Page 8
