Sagan materialized directly in front of Deem. It startled her and she jumped back.
“I told you not to fuck around,” Winn said.
Deem saw Winn jump into the River. She took another step back from Sagan and then followed Winn into the flow.
Sagan looked like a twenty year old delinquent. He wore a dirty wife beater and a baggy pair of chinos. His arms were covered in tattoos. He leered at Deem, a small face peering out from around long hair.
She’s pretty! he said.
Too bad you’re a ghost, Winn said to Sagan.
Yeah, I’d love to tap that, Sagan said, moving around Deem.
You want some fresh meat? Winn asked.
Sagan turned from Deem to look at Winn. Whatcha got? he asked.
Human corpses, Winn said. A nice supply. Would keep that cave spirit of yours happy for a long time.
Deem saw Sagan respond like a dog. He ran up to Winn.
Where? Sagan asked. I could use some!
Well, this is a nice supply, would probably set you up for a long time, Winn said. That’s worth a lot, isn’t it?
If it’s true, Sagan said, losing some of his enthusiasm.
Aren’t you tired of working with Brett, living off the deer carcasses he drags back here? Winn said. I thought you were destined for greater things.
I got my application in with the St. Thomas crew, Sagan said. They’re gonna take me.
They ain’t gonna take ya, Winn said, ’cause there isn’t a St. Thomas crew anymore. The place is gone.
I don’t believe you, Sagan said. The St. Thomas crew is the greatest crew around here, and I’m gonna join them.
Well, you keep telling yourself that, Winn said, but in the meantime I was wondering if you were interested in something a little more significant than dead squirrels and rattlesnakes. Something that might demonstrate your ambition to a crew.
Maybe, Sagan said. What?
I have a task I need done, and if you do it, I’ll tell you where to find enough human corpses to last you for years. You might even be able to sell them and set up your own crew. How about that?
What task? Sagan asked.
I got someone I want you to track, Winn said. I want you to find out where they live. You give me their name and address, I’ll tell you where the bodies are.
Why do you need me to track ’em? Sagan asked. Why can’t you track ’em yourself?
’Cause they’re faster than me, Winn said. Are you interested or not?
How many bodies? Sagan asked.
At least a dozen, Winn answered. That’d last you how long, years? Imagine not having to feed anything to that cave spirit for a while. It’d be like you’re a free man.
Deem watched as Sagan began to get excited. She knew he probably transported an animal carcass to wherever he was buried several times a week to feed the spirit in the cave and keep himself a Caller. A human corpse would be worth far more to the cave spirit.
Tell me where they are, Sagan said, and I’ll do it.
Nah, Winn answered. You track the guy first, get me his address, then I’ll tell you.
How do I know you won’t renege on your end of the deal, Sagan said, once I’ve done my part?
You’ll just have to trust me, if you want those bodies.
Well, I have trust issues, Sagan said. Brett told me I’d get ten animals for every store I broke him into, but now I only get one or two.
Brett ain’t part of this deal, Winn said. This is between you and me.
Yeah, but I find that humans lie, Sagan said, turning to walk away from Winn. They tell you they’ll do something, but then they don’t.
Deem watched Sagan as he walked back and forth, kicking at the ground. It made her smile; Sagan thought he was negotiating, but he obviously didn’t know Winn.
I guess I’ll see if Gale over in Littlefield wants the gig, Winn said, turning. Let’s go, Deem.
Now hold on, Sagan said. I didn’t say I didn’t want the job.
Yeah, but you didn’t say you did, and this place stinks, Sagan. I can barely stand to be in here with you. So make up your mind. I know Gale will do it, he’s desperate to make some coin. I only stopped here because it was closer and I thought I’d let you in on something big-time instead of dog and cat corpses.
Winn turned again, and Deem followed him as he walked back toward the steps.
I’ll do it! Sagan called after them. Alright, I’ll do it. But I want an oath.
No oath, Winn said, turning back to face Sagan. You do it, I tell you where they are. That’s the deal.
Fuck, you aren’t being fair, Sagan said. I ain’t got no protection in this deal.
That’s because you’re a white trash low life, Sagan. You were a degenerate when you were alive, and you’re still a degenerate. I don’t trust you at all. Degenerates don’t get protection in deals. Take it or leave it.
Damn, you’re kind of an asshole, Sagan said.
Come on, Deem, Winn said, turning again to head for the stairs.
No, wait, wait! Sagan said. I said I’d do it, and I will. Who am I supposed to track?
He’ll be at Deem’s house sometime tonight, Winn said. You watch the outside of the house until he appears, then follow him. I want a name and an address, then you get your corpses. Oh, and under no circumstances are you to go inside the house, is that clear?
Yeah, Sagan said. Don’t go in. How will I know the guy?
He’s dark and his eyes glow, Deem said. And he moves fast, much faster than a human.
So he’s not human? Sagan asked. What is he?
That’s none of your concern, Winn said.
It is if I’m supposed to track him! Sagan said. What if he turns on me?
Just stay back far enough that he doesn’t know you’re following him, Winn said. I don’t want him tipped off.
I give you his address, you set me up with the bodies?
Name and address, Winn said, and after I verify that you got the right guy. Then I set you up.
Alright, Sagan said. Where’s the house?
Deem relayed her address to Sagan. He seemed to be memorizing it, repeating it over and over. It didn’t inspire confidence.
Can I ask you something? Deem asked Sagan.
Sure, he said, repeating the address under his breath.
How’d you get the name Sagan? she asked.
I drew a bunch of stars on my skateboard, he replied. Constellations and shit. When my homies saw it, they started calling me Sagan.
After Carl Sagan? Deem asked.
Who’s that? Sagan replied.
Come on, Deem, Winn said, walking to the stairs. This idiot doesn’t even know who he’s named after, and I gotta get out of here before I choke. Don’t fuck this up, Sagan. You fuck it up, the deal’s cancelled and I take it to Gale.
Chill! Sagan said. I’ll do it, you don’t gotta worry.
▪ ▪ ▪
“He’s an idiot,” Deem said, riding in Winn’s Jeep. “Makes me a little nervous to have him working on this.”
“Me too,” Winn said, “since he’s our only option.”
“There’s no Gale in Littlefield?” Deem asked.
“Nope,” Winn said. “Sagan’s the only Caller I know that’s close. If he doesn’t work out, the next closest I know of are in Ely.”
“Damn, let’s hope he gets it right,” Deem said. “Are you going to tell him the corpses are animated?”
“Nope,” Winn said. “He’ll have to figure that one out. But he will, he’s so hungry for them. He’ll clean the place out.”
“If he doesn’t fuck it up,” Deem repeated.
“Yeah, that,” Winn said.
Deem felt her cell phone buzz in her pocket. She pulled it out and checked it – it was a reminder to visit Joseph Dayton, a friend of her father’s.
“So this stop I need to make,” Deem said to Winn, “is right in the middle of town. If you want, you can take me home and I’ll drive there.”
“How long will it ta
ke?” Winn asked.
“I don’t know,” Deem said. “I want to talk to him about my father. He was good friends with him. I think he’s gifted, too, and won’t admit it. I’m hoping to ask him if my father kept a journal.”
“I’ll take you there,” Winn said, knowing this was of major importance to Deem. Anything that involved her father was major.
“I can’t tell you for sure how long it will take,” Deem said.
“I’ll wait,” Winn replied.
Deem gave Winn the address. She was grateful that he was coming along. She could use the moral support.
▪ ▪ ▪
Winn watched as Deem left the house he was parked in front of and walked to his Jeep. She opened the passenger door and hopped inside.
“That was fast,” Winn said.
“He wouldn’t tell me anything,” Deem said, fuming. “Wouldn’t admit to having the gift, said he didn’t know if my dad kept a journal. I dropped into the River and could tell he was lying. I think he knew I knew.”
“Did you call him on it?” Winn asked.
“No,” Deem said. “I just thanked him and left. I feel like a pussy.”
“Want me to go talk to him?” Winn asked.
“No,” Deem said. “It’s just that…goddamnit, it’s just how smug he was. There’s all this judgment. I’m not active in the church, so the walls are up. It makes me angry. It’s my father we’re talking about, church or no.”
“Yeah,” Winn said, “I know what you mean.”
“He and my dad spent a lot of time together,” Deem said. “He was Dad’s counselor in the stake presidency. They were both gifted, I know it. I’ll bet he has gifted kids of his own, too. He should be more compassionate.”
“I thought you said your father didn’t leave a journal?” Winn said. “Did you discover something different?”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Deem said. “He advocated keeping a journal, he advised others to do it, as part of the religion. I can’t believe he didn’t keep one himself. My mom says there’s no journal, but he may have hid it from her, or she might be hiding it from me. I spent most of today digging through boxes in storage at home, seeing if I could find something. I know it’s there, somewhere.”
“And you were hoping this guy would know something?”
“I thought maybe he could confirm if my dad kept one,” Deem said. “But he denied any knowledge of anything. It was like he never knew my dad. And worse, he lied to me.”
Deem was tearing up. Winn saw her wipe her eyes. “When I was younger,” Deem said, “I thought he was a very nice man. Now he’s just an asshole.”
“You know, there’s always been those rumors about Mormon gifteds,” Winn said. “Maybe that’s why.”
“My dad told me they weren’t true,” Deem said.
“Yeah, well, he didn’t tell you about a journal, either. Maybe it was something he was waiting to tell you, but he passed away before he could.”
“He died a slow, agonizing death from leukemia,” Deem said. “He had plenty of time to tell me anything he wanted to say.”
“You could always go talk to Claude Peterson,” Winn said.
Deem turned to look at Winn. “Crazy Claude? I’d be shot before I could knock on his door.”
“The guy knows a lot about it,” Winn said.
“It’s all bullshit,” Deem said. “He’s a lunatic.”
“He just knows some things he probably shouldn’t have talked about,” Winn said, “and it got him branded as crazy. It’s the community here that’s isolated him. I’ve always believed him.”
“Well, you believe in UFOs, too,” Deem said.
“This sudden interest in a journal is because of Steven and Roy, isn’t it?” Winn asked. “Seeing Roy’s journal?”
“It got me thinking, yes,” Deem said. Deem felt her phone buzz once again. She slipped it from her pocket and scrolled through the messages.
“Awan found a picture,” she said, turning to Winn and smiling.
Chapter Four
“I told her I’d see what I could find,” Eliza said, “but I didn’t tell her anything about Eximere, of course.”
“Good,” Steven said, pouring himself a cup of coffee with his left hand while holding the cell phone with his right. “I’m going there tomorrow. I’ll look for it. You’ll email it? The picture?”
“As soon as I get it from Deem,” Eliza said.
“This would be a nice way to return one of those objects, if it’s there,” Steven said. “I think we’ll have a hard time returning the others without someone stepping forward like this.”
“Is that Eliza?” Roy asked, walking into Steven’s kitchen to get some of the freshly brewed coffee.
“Hold on, I’m going to put you on speakerphone,” Steven said, removing the phone from his ear and pressing a button. He moved to the kitchen table and Roy sat next to him.
“Hello?” Steven said. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes, I can hear you,” Eliza said.
“Hello, Eliza!” Roy said. “Nice to hear your voice.”
“Yours too!” Eliza said. “How’s things? How’s Jason?”
“He’s fine, doing fine,” Roy said. “Well, fits and starts, but he’s coming along.”
“I had to pull back a little,” Steven said into the phone. “I’ve been dumping a lot on him. I didn’t want him to feel I was holding back anymore. I think it was too much too soon.”
“Jason told him to slow down,” Roy said into the phone. “Things were going too fast.”
“Well, he got what he wanted,” Eliza said. “At whatever speed. Any lingering issues with St. Thomas?”
“Doesn’t seem to be,” Steven said. “What do you think, Dad?”
Roy remembered the warning Deem had given him about Jason, the potential for something subliminal to reemerge. He hadn’t seen anything along those lines yet, but he’d been watching.
“He seems fine,” Roy said. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“That’s good,” Eliza said. “So, you think we can give up one of those objects at Eximere, for Deem? If it’s there?”
“I’d be happy to,” Steven said. “We owe them. This would be a nice way to repay them.”
“Alright, I’ll just tell her I’ve got some friends looking for it. If you find it, let me know and I’ll give her a call.”
“Are they in trouble?” Roy asked.
“Yes, it sounded bad,” Eliza said. “One of her relatives is under attack, at her house. A friend of theirs found this object in his grandfather’s journal, they’re hoping it will help. His grandfather claimed it was stolen from him.”
“I wonder if he was one of Unser’s victims,” Steven said.
“Goddamnit!” Roy said, suddenly standing up. “Hot coffee in the crotch!”
Steven could hear Eliza laughing. “I’ll let you go,” she said. “Sounds like you need to clean up.”
“He knocked over a full mug,” Steven said. “Coffee everywhere. I’ll call you if we find anything. Or if we don’t, either way.”
“Thanks,” Eliza said, and hung up.
▪ ▪ ▪
As Winn poured himself another cup of coffee from his thermos, Deem grabbed the Big Gulp from the cup holder in Winn’s Jeep and took a long sip. Their car was parked a half block down from Deem’s house, with a perfect view of the front of the house and the roof.
“You still drinking that shit?” Winn said. “The sugar’ll kill ya.”
“What you’re drinking isn’t any better,” Deem said, replacing the Big Gulp in the cup holder.
“Of course it is,” Winn said. “I drink it black, no sugar at all.”
“I’m drinking a Diet Coke,” Deem said. “No sugar.”
“Just a ton of chemicals bubbling in carbonation,” Winn said.
“Mmm, mmm,” Deem said. “And it tastes so good!”
They’d been in the car for over an hour. It was one a.m.
“So you just don’t li
ke coffee?” Winn asked, bored.
“I love the smell of it,” Deem said. “But drinking it sucks.”
“That’s because you want it to be sweet,” Winn said. “They put chemical sweeteners in Diet Coke, you know. And coffee is good for you. Lots of studies on the internet.”
“That’s not what we were told in Sunday School,” Deem said. “They had all kinds of stories about how bad it was for you.”
“Well, you know that was a load of horseshit,” Winn said, taking a sip.
“OK, let me try some,” Deem said.
Winn passed his cup over to her. She smelled it, then took a small sip. She handed it back.
“That’s nasty,” she said. She reached for her Big Gulp to wash away the taste.
“Maybe you need to ease your way into it,” Winn said. “With cream and sugar, like most girls drink it.”
Deem knew he was trying to get under her skin with the “most girls” comment. She ignored him.
“Roy says I’ve just never had good coffee,” Deem said. “He said in Seattle they’d make sure I got the good stuff.”
“Hey, Roy liked my coffee,” Winn said. “I think you just prefer your candy. That’s fine, all little girls like candy.”
“You’re starting to piss me off,” Deem said.
“I’m bored,” Winn replied. He slid down a little in his seat, adjusting himself. Deem knew Winn had a reputation for being sizeable in the endowment department, and she couldn’t help but notice how much of Winn was straining in the tight jeans. She glanced away before he could catch her looking.
Like everyone says, she thought. He’s hung.
She’d considered becoming involved with Winn early on when they first met. He was charming and handsome, and at first she felt she’d met someone who understood her on her gifted level, and it appealed to her. But after a while she decided Winn was too much to handle as anything more than a friend. She learned he had a harem of both women and men who’d sleep with him whenever he wanted, and she found that irritating. He’d tried to seduce her early on, but she put the brakes on it and made it clear their relationship was going to be on a professional level only.
And it’s going to stay that way, Deem thought. Even if he’s huge.
Blood Oath, Blood River (The Downwinders Book 1) Page 5
