A Perfect Darkness

by Jaime Rush

  Amy watched their surroundings as they drove. Every bland car caught her eye now, and she waited for it to turn around and follow. “Cyrus said that the Offspring have powers they might not even know about. You could, too. I didn’t know seeing glows was a psychic ability, and probably the voices, too.”

  “Voices,” she said. “You hear voices?”

  “Put that way, it sounds crazy.” And damn, she hadn’t meant to mention it. “Between wake and sleep I hear bits of conversations and stuff. Maybe it’s not an ability at all.” She could have convinced herself of that if she didn’t feel so damn scared when she heard them.

  “Eric thinks my extraordinary hearing is an ability.” She smiled at that for a second. “I don’t know if I could sense someone other than Eric watching us.” Her gaze darted around. “I don’t even want to think about that.”

  “You have to. We know that the men behind this are trying to recruit Offspring. Maybe they already have.”

  CHAPTER 17

  “Why did Cyrus send you out of town to get the car?” Petra asked, looking in her rearview mirror.

  “I think he chose someplace that was open twenty-four hours so the car wouldn’t be noticed.”

  “He loved you a lot, didn’t he?” she asked softly.

  “He made mistakes and he wasn’t honest with me, but yes, I think he did.”

  They drove in silence for a few minutes. Petra pointed to an old building with a cartoonlike picture painted on the side. It depicted a craggy auctioneer lifting his gavel next to a building on the platform with the words MARKET HOUSE on it, and a bubble that said, SOLD OUT TO THE HIGHEST BIDDER!

  The Market House, down by the City Docks in the historic section, had been a great place, with local cafés. Its management had been handed over to a firm that filled it with chain eateries and ousted the little guys, much to the ire of the locals, even four years later.

  Petra laughed. “That guy just kills me.”

  “Freedom. I’ve read about him: a graffiti artist with a message.”

  Freedom’s real identity was a mystery, though the authority figures wanted that to end.

  Amy said, “The paper did a write-up on him once. He’s almost a hero. They showed this area of Baltimore where the sidewalks were full of cracks and holes right by a retirement home. He’d painted a three-dimensional picture on the sidewalk that showed an old man trying to climb out of a hole. It looked so real, at least in the photo. The city fixed the sidewalks real quick after that.”

  Just as Amy was thinking how nice it was to talk about something other than spies and danger, Petra’s fingers, nails polished a bright red, tightened on the wheel. “Crap. I got the feeling.”

  “Eric?”

  She narrowed her eyes in concentration. “I don’t think so. It feels…different.”

  “Whoever sensed us when we went to Lucas was able to kick us out. Can you do that?”

  “I don’t know, I don’t know.” She waved her hand as though she’d burned it on the steering wheel. “What do I do?”

  “Turn in at that gas station. We need to fill up anyway, and it’ll give you a chance to calm down.”

  Petra’s hands were shaking as she punched the Cash button. Amy removed the gas cap.

  “Do you still feel it?”

  “Yes, and it’s a creepy feeling. Creepier than when Eric does it. I don’t like it.”

  “Visualize yourself kicking that person out. Create a ball of energy and hold it in your hands. Then throw it out at the person watching us.”

  “Okay, I’ll try.”

  Amy had no idea if it would work, but it would keep Petra focused on something other than her panic. She went into the station to pay. It was an annoying habit to glance at the newspaper machines as she walked by them. Cyrus’s face glued her feet to the concrete.

  CIA OFFICER KILLED BY MUGGERS AT PARK.

  She fumbled for change and bought a copy before going inside to pay.

  Petra was pumping the gas when Amy returned. “Do you still feel him?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  “You drive,” she said, walking to the passenger side. “I’m too nervous.”

  Amy slid into the driver’s seat and then had to shift the seat. She could hardly enjoy driving the car, though, not with that headline looming in her brain and the fear of being watched thick in the air. She handed the paper to Petra. “Read the article about Cyrus.”

  She took a side road and wound back to the main highway the long way, in case their spy was able to pinpoint where the gas station was.

  “‘Cyrus Diamond, Annapolis resident and long-time employee of the CIA, was mugged and shot in the Quiet Waters Park last night. The incident happened after hours. It is not known what Diamond was doing there. He received two bullets, the fatal one piercing his heart. A CIA spokesperson maintains that Diamond was not there on CIA business, and another unnamed coworker told us that Diamond liked to walk in the park at night.

  “‘Park officials claim that this is the first incident of violence of this nature at the park and that it remains safe for visitors.’” She looked up. “This is how we’re going to end up, isn’t it? As victims of some random crime, only it won’t be random.”

  “No, we’re not. We’re going to rescue Lucas and find out who’s behind this. Then we’re going to expose them all.”

  “I hope so.” Petra opened the paper and took another breath. “There’s more about Eric, too. At least it’s only second page news now. They’re still looking for him. And…oh, crap.”

  “What?”

  “They’ve identified this car. The police are looking for it.”

  If the police pulled them over and questioned them, they’d be taken into custody and never heard from again.

  “They’re calling him a dangerous criminal.”

  “He is,” Amy said. “But he’s our dangerous criminal.” She shuddered, remembering that man going up in flames.

  “He gets on the edge sometimes. He’s always been like that.”

  Was it the Ultra thing?

  They drove without speaking for a few minutes, but the silence was uncomfortable. It gave her too much time to think. Like Petra, she kept watching the mirrors for any car that stayed with her as she changed lanes and occasionally took a detour before returning to the main road.

  “Uh-oh.” Amy flicked her gaze to the rearview mirror.

  Petra held up her hand. “No more ‘uh-ohs.’ I can’t take any more ‘uh-ohs’ or bad news or feelings.” When Amy remained silent, she said, “What is it?”

  “A police cruiser coming up behind us, don’t look,” she added quickly as Petra started to turn. “No lights.”

  It remained a few car lengths behind. Amy moved into the far right lane and slowed her pace so it could pass. She didn’t want to give the officer any more time to notice the car. The police car moved closer. Changed lanes to the one next to hers. It finally moved up next to her. She trained her gaze ahead, looking as much as she could like a gal out to enjoy the day.

  Someone honked the horn behind her, sending her jolting out of the seat. The driver gestured for her to speed it up. She was going ten miles below the speed limit. She cringed. Please don’t let that bring the officer’s attention to me.

  She dared a look. The cruiser had pulled away, now three car lengths ahead. “Whew. We’ve got to get this car into hiding. Could you get my cell phone out of my backpack and dial a number for me?” She recited Ozzie’s number and then took the phone from Petra. “Oz, it’s Amy.”

  “Where are you? I didn’t recognize the number. What the heck is going on? Some men questioned me when I left your apartment. They said you were in big trouble. Then another man came around this morning asking how my car ended up at Quiet Waters Park. I told him I’d given you a key a while back and you must have borrowed it. I acted kinda annoyed at you over it, but I don’t think he bought it. He tried to bully an answer out of me, and I g
uess it’s good that I don’t know anything. Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell them. But I’m worried sick about you.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I wanted to be involved, remember?”

  “You can’t tell anyone I called. I forgot to ask you to change the message on my machine to send clients to my backup. Is that Orn’ry I hear in the background?”

  “Amy, I’m going nuts. He’s been screeching since I brought him here. Yes, I’ve fed him and given him water. The neighbors are complaining.”

  “I’m sorry, Oz.” She felt just as bad for abandoning Orn’ry. “See about finding him a home. A good home.”

  “No one’s going to take this bird.”

  She took a deep breath. “All right, I’ll try to get him. Just hold on until I do, okay? And Oz…thanks.” She disconnected and tossed the phone to Petra. “We’ve got company.”

  Lucas tried to swim through the fog in his mind. His body was burning up but he felt water all around him. As he struggled to open his eyes, a storm of images crackled through his brain like an electrical current. Amy driving his car. Her fear. Petra beside her. A man with dark hair, tan complexion, and hard, nearly black eyes. Gun on his lap. Following them. Capture. Kill if necessary.

  No!

  He struggled to open his eyes, but he was too weak. “Amy.” He could barely even say her name.

  “Shh,” a woman said.

  Amy? No, not her voice. He would have felt her if she’d been there. He didn’t want her there. Anywhere but there.

  He felt a cool wet cloth across his forehead. Water cascaded down his face. He sank back into the ethers. Find Amy again. She was in trouble. Because of him. Where was Eric? If he was with them, he would have been driving the car. Was he hurt? Everything was falling apart, and it was his own fault. If he hadn’t gone to Amy…

  Then something else might have happened to her. His original fear. These people were after her. They were going to get her one way or the other.

  He tried to summon her. Nothing. Too weak. Helpless.

  “Try to relax, Lucas,” the woman said.

  No way could he relax, not when Amy and Petra were in danger. Eric. He’d never tried to get into Eric’s dreams. Was it nighttime? He had no idea. But Eric had just come here. That hadn’t been a dream, right? He’d been here, with Amy. He’d told Eric to keep her safe, but she and Petra were off somewhere without him. If he had remote-viewed here, he’d be tired afterward. Lucas wasn’t even sure how long ago that was, but he had to take the chance.

  He tried to home in on Eric. If he could get into other people’s heads, he could get into Eric’s. He pictured the man he considered a brother even though he’d nearly disowned him years ago.

  After the fire, Lucas went to France for a few years and lived with a well-known but reclusive sculptor who’d become his mentor. He’d gotten to know other struggling artists and connected them with the galleries he dealt with. He found a love of beautiful things, a counterpoint to the darkness within. For a while he was happy…until the sketch that foretold his mentor’s fatal fall down a staircase. Until Lucas’s warning freaked him out and he returned to Annapolis. He’d grown up enough to know he couldn’t sever his few connections to family. He’d kept a wall between him and Eric, though, and would until Eric told him the truth. Now he needed to reach Eric.

  It was a struggle, but he pushed hard. A blurry image grew clearer. He saw Eric passed out on the floor. The water sliding down Lucas’s face pulled him back to the world again. Stop. He opened his mouth but couldn’t push out the word. What was happening to him? His body wasn’t cooperating, but he still had his mind. For now. He imagined a thread leading to Eric, and he climbed through the ethers by that tenuous thread. He slipped but grabbed hold again. Eric. He got closer. Got to get in. Then he dove into his dreams.

  There were no dreams, though. His brain was recovering. Lucas pulled in all the strength he had. Eric! The girls are in danger. Wake up! They’re in my car. Find them!

  Lucas, is that really you?

  Listen to me. Don’t try to rescue me. I won’t be around much longer. I don’t want you risking your lives for my dead body. Find the girls, Eric.

  As hard as Lucas had worked to get there, suddenly he was out of the dream and back to this wet place.

  “Just relax,” he heard the woman say.

  He struggled to lift his eyelids and saw the brunette he’d seen at the window. She was sitting next to him. He was in a tub. Through the slit of his half-opened eyes he saw he was naked but for his briefs. He was way too tired to be embarrassed or even wonder how he’d gotten there. Just beyond the woman was a guard. Lucas’s eyes drifted shut again.

  A few minutes later a man’s harsh voice jarred him out of his slumber. “What are you doing in here, Olivia?” The Devil.

  “Peterson had to leave. I told him I’d take over. I have some medical training, you know.”

  “So does he. And I told you I didn’t want you near the criminals. Leave.”

  “Who’s going to stay with him?”

  “I will.”

  So he was considered a criminal. He would have slid beneath the water and let himself drown, if that was possible. He couldn’t take being there anymore. But he couldn’t leave Amy, not yet. He needed to know she would survive the man with the hard, dark eyes.

  Eric woke, hearing Lucas’s words echoing from the dream. Or was it a dream? He pulled himself out of bed and wandered out to the main room. No sign of either woman.

  “Petra? Amy?” He checked their bedrooms when neither answered. When he returned to the living room, he saw the note on the table. “What the hell? Are they crazy?”

  He grabbed his cell phone, intending to call Petra, but stopped. What if they were in a precarious situation and the ringing phone gave her away? She might not have the presence of mind to turn off the ringer.

  Lucas’s visit wasn’t a dream. They were gone and they were in trouble. He tried to remote view to them, but he was still too wasted. He slammed his hand against the wall. He had no way to get to them, no way to know where they were. He let out a string of curses he expected would melt the violet paint on the concrete wall. This was falling apart. The enemy was winning. And there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it.

  CHAPTER 18

  “Don’t turn around,” Amy said as Petra began to look. “He doesn’t know that we know yet. We need that advantage.”

  “How’d you get so good at this stuff?”

  Amy gritted her teeth. “Same way you’re good at it. Necessity. Like that thing at the gay festival.”

  Petra laughed nervously. “That kind of thing is different. It’s acting. This is drive-for-your-life stuff. What kind of car is he in?”

  “Blue Buick, one car back. I only see one guy.”

  “Two against one…no problem.”

  Amy smiled. “That’s the way to think.”

  “I wish we could, like, blow something up or make it go up in flames.”

  “You never know; we just might be able to.” Amy slowly accelerated. She couldn’t take a chance of flagging a cop’s attention with erratic driving. “Okay, here’s what we do. We’re only a couple of miles from the car. We need to get out of Mr. Buick’s sight long enough to hide the ’Cuda. Once we’re on foot he won’t be able to find us easily.”

  “What if we get remote-viewed again?”

  “Remember, Eric can’t remote view for very long, and it drains him to do it more than once. We have to hope that person gets the same way.”

  Petra curled her fingers around her seat belt. “How can you be so positive?”

  “Because I can’t afford to be negative.”

  Traffic was holding her back. Mr. Buick was getting closer. He was way better at maneuvering than she was. At a light, he pulled up just behind her in the next lane. He had a Latin or Middle Eastern look about him.

  “Pretend to laugh,” Amy said, pointing at a lingerie store.

  He inched
closer as the car next to her readied for the green light. He wanted to get a good look at them, apparently. That gave her a good look at him. At, in particular, his glow.

  “Purple.”

  “What?”

  “He’s not one of us. That’s the good news.” The light turned green, and she accelerated at a normal rate even though she wanted to stomp the gas pedal.

  “Do I want to know what the bad news is?”

  “He’s got a purple glow. Violent intent. I saw it when that man grabbed me at the marina.”

  They crossed the Patuxent River toward the US 301 exchange. She’d studied Cyrus’s map and knew they’d loop onto that and head south. The blue Buick followed at a respectable distance throughout the maneuver. Almost there. She had to come up with a plan. She searched the area, one with which she wasn’t familiar.

  “Hand me my backpack.” As she drove, she released her seat belt and slid out of it. The car key was in her pocket, and Petra had the extra key on her. “Be ready to go. You had to put me in this dress, didn’t you? At least I have sneakers on.”

  Petra released her belt, too, looking around with wide eyes. “You just passed the Wal-Mart.”

  “I know. I’m going to take the next road and come from the back side. We need to ditch this car—”

  “Ditch it? No!”

  Amy turned onto the next road and drove through a residential area. “We’ve got to. It’s too risky driving it when it’s been in the paper. Maybe we can come back and get it.”

  Petra let out a whimper but didn’t argue further. She worried her plump lower lip. “If we get caught, Eric will just kill me for coming with you. Even if I’m already dead, he’ll kill me again. He didn’t think you’d really get the car by yourself.”

  “Let’s not worry about that right now.” Amy cased the area, the Buick behind her.

  “We’re going to get caught, aren’t we? Then we’re going to be in that horrible place where Lucas is, and we’re going to die.”

  Amy glanced over at Petra, whose face wore a mask of despair. She reached into her mind for her counseling skills. “Petra, listen to me. We’re going to be fine. We will get out of this. If we think we’re done for, then we are. We must believe that we’ll get away. Got it?”