A Perfect Darkness

by Jaime Rush

  She turned to him, feeling his smile all the way down to her stomach. She dipped the brush into the deep red paint and mirrored his ribbons. With her back against his chest, every movement made them rub against each other. She wished she could strip out of her shirt so she could feel his skin against hers. She painted random dots, changing colors every so often. It was nice to just be silently with him.

  “Not bad,” he said behind her, tickling her ear with his voice.

  “Really? I’ve never done this before.” She turned to him. “You’re just saying that.”

  “Not at all. See how you’ve got the balance of color there, and design here. It’s good.”

  She smiled, feeling like a little kid who just got a supreme compliment from her parent. Feeling pumped up, she put squiggles on the canvas with a flourish of her brush.

  He laughed. “Uh-oh, now I’ve given you a big head!”

  “That’s never going to be a problem.” Before he could inquire further about that, as she suspected he would, she looked at the painting above the easel. It was of her lying on the ground, looking up at the sky. “You paint me so beautifully.”

  “It’s what I see.”

  She balanced her brush on the palette and settled against him. “When did you first start seeing me?”

  “Soon after you moved away, I think. Just brief flashes, sort of like I get now, but not painful. When I became a teenager they got stronger. Then I thought, oh sure, adolescent boy daydreaming about a girl. At least I was trying to convince myself. But these dreams were more than daydreams. I’d suddenly be somewhere else, seeing this girl who was my age. The fleeting glimpses became longer, more intense, and I began to feel what she was feeling. I knew that this was related to my other dreams, but it was as if I was getting something good, too. I seemed to tune in whenever she was experiencing some strong emotion. Good ones and bad ones. I thought she must open herself up then. I wasn’t even sure she was real, to be honest. She was my secret girlfriend.

  “I started to get my premonition dreams more in my late teens and early twenties. They always involved someone I had contact with. It spooked me. I thought I was bringing bad luck to them. As you can imagine, I didn’t really want to get involved with anyone. It’s kind of hard to explain that I might wake in the night and maniacally draw some scary picture. ‘And oh, by the way, it’ll happen four days in a row.’”

  She liked the idea that he hadn’t been with a woman in a serious sense, but it saddened her, too. She turned to give him a smile. “I suppose most women might have an issue with that.”

  He grazed her cheek with his hand. “You were the only woman in my heart. You brought light to my darkness.”

  That made her want to cry. Because she didn’t want him to think she pitied him, she held back any words of sympathy. “I’m glad.” How could she tell him how much that meant to her? She snuggled against him a bit more in a silent gesture.

  “Then one day I was going through some of my old stuff that I’d boxed up after the fire and I found that picture.” He nodded toward the one on the bulletin board. “And I knew she was real. I knew her name was Amy, and I remembered having a bond with her even then.”

  She turned around again. “Why didn’t you ever try to find me?”

  “I didn’t want you in my life.”

  He was trying to hurt her, push her away. That was her first thought. But this was Lucas who would lay down his life for her. She recalled something he’d said in one of their dreams: There are things you don’t know about me…dark…you safe…

  She came to her feet and faced him, her hands on his shoulders. “You think you’ve got some dark place inside you because you see people’s deaths.”

  “It’s more than that.”

  “What?” She waited, seeing the darkness shadowing his eyes. When she knew he wasn’t going to answer, she said, “You saved my life. At the marina,” she clarified.

  “I should have destroyed those sketches.”

  She touched his cheek. “I’m glad you didn’t. You probably wouldn’t have told me.”

  “Why relive it?”

  “I want to relive it. I want to hear what happened from your side.”

  The terror of that dream still lived in his eyes. “I don’t know if I do.” He must have seen her need to know because he took a deep breath and said, “I freaked when I realized the woman I’d already sketched being attacked was you. I thought I was keeping you safe by staying away from you. Then I saw my Amy getting raped.” He managed a smile. “You were my Amy, even if I didn’t know who you were.”

  She settled onto his lap, facing him. “I am your Amy.” Something about those words caught in her throat. She belonged to him. Belonged. All these years she’d felt she didn’t deserve someone to love.

  His eyes darkened, becoming more intense.

  “What?” she asked.

  “It’s just that…well, you’ve always been mine in a distant way. But no one has ever really belonged to me.”

  She smiled. “I know exactly what you mean. Go on; you saw me getting…well, you know.”

  He blew out a breath. “I knew I had to do something, especially since that was the third sketch. But there still wasn’t enough detail to see where it was. I was frantic. I told myself to wake up right after doing the fourth sketch, when I might still be connected to the event. I did, and I reached deep inside me, feeling I could know more if I dared. I didn’t want this gift or curse, but now I welcomed it. I stared at the sketch so hard, it was like that scene in Xanadu, where the guy looks at the painting of the muses and then skates right into it.

  “I saw what I probably experienced while in the trance. I was in the guy’s head, watching women walking by. He was building up to, planning, his first taking. He would wait until a woman walked by alone, grab her, and then drag her onto his boat. I knew you would be that woman.

  “I had thirteen hours to find that marina. I was a man crazy, going from place to place trying to find the one that matched what I’d seen. I got there right after he grabbed you. He didn’t see me until I was right on him.”

  She traced the scar on his abdomen. “You could have gotten killed.”

  He shrugged as though it was no big deal. “I didn’t think about that. I just wanted you safe.”

  “My own guardian angel.” Gratitude and love swelled inside her as she hugged him. “You could have come forward. The cops wanted to know who my hero was. So did I.”

  He shook his head. “How could I explain why I was there? And I didn’t want you in my mess of a life. Then I saw your name on Gladstone’s computer.” He looked past her, recrimination in his eyes. “I pulled you into an even bigger mess.”

  She took his hands in hers and forced him to look at her. “I was already in the mess. You tried to save me. You’re my hero.”

  Surprisingly, those words made the shadow in his eyes even darker. “No, I’m not. Don’t say that.”

  “You’re my hero,” she whispered, leaning close to kiss him. She wanted to chase all those shadows from him.

  The groan she heard did not come from Lucas. She turned to find Eric standing at the entrance to the hallway, looking away. “You have a bedroom, you know. And it’s time to get rolling.”

  Petra was right behind him, not looking too happy herself.

  Amy blinked at the sight of Eric. His hair was now a dark brown and combed straight down.

  He ran his hand over it. “Time for a change.”

  Petra gave him a friendly shove. “See, you need change, too.”

  “For a disguise,” he said.

  Amy kissed Lucas, a much more chaste kiss than she preferred, and climbed off him. “I’ll throw some breakfast together.”

  Eric grimaced. “Not Pop-Tarts and yogurt, I hope.”

  “No, we need something heartier than that.”

  Lucas got up, a bit, ah, stiffly, making Amy grin. “I’ll load the gear. We’ll call the fencing company at seven, cancel the work order.”
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  Eric said, “I remote-viewed the local garages and found the truck. We’ve got to move out in the next twenty minutes if we want to snag it before they open.”

  Amy took a deep breath as she gathered eggs, bacon, and toast. Petra joined her, looking as worried as Amy felt. What concerned her most was that Eric might break with their plan and go looking for the files. Which might put him in danger. Which would send Lucas into danger going after him. She couldn’t lose him again. No way in hell would she lose him again.

  CHAPTER 27

  Amy and Petra waited in the Camry while Eric and Lucas scaled the garage fence in the predawn light.

  The world outside the tomb seemed different—colors more vivid, the air fuller, the sunlight painfully bright. Amy inhaled deeply. “Do I even want to know where Eric learned to hotwire cars?”

  “When he realized he was being watched by Gladstone, he went into survival mode. He got two untraceable guns, the cell phones, and went off the grid.” She kept her gaze on the men as she spoke. “He learned hotwiring from a friend. Eric was the boy who played with toy soldiers, then those video games about war, and then it was paintball. This is natural for him.” Her forehead creased. “It’s what worries me the most about him.”

  Eric worked in the cab of the truck while Lucas opened the gate.

  “And he has the most powerful weapon I’ve ever known,” Amy added. “Even scarier, he likes using it. When he burned that guy at Quiet Waters Park, he enjoyed it. I don’t know if it was the power or the actual killing, but he had a smile on his face while he watched the man burn to death.”

  “He’s always been…on the edge. He jumped off roofs, climbed up on those bulletin boards you see by the side of the road…and set fires.”

  Eric started the truck and pulled up to the gate.

  “What was Lucas like as a kid?” Amy asked.

  “He was quiet, seemed to live inside himself more than in the world.” Petra smiled. “But he jumped off the roof right along with Eric. No peer pressure necessary.”

  Eric drove through the open gate. Lucas closed it and hopped into the truck. They paused by the car and Petra transferred the gas masks and canister to the truck bed. Amy followed as they left the lot. Lucas was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. The same gel that Petra had used on her hair made his waves straight. He was going to play the silent partner, keeping in the background while Eric talked to the guard in case they recognized him.

  Amy and Petra hung back while the truck drove down the road to the asylum twenty minutes later. Lucas would ring the phone once when they had the guards at gunpoint. Petra would get into the truck and be ready when they emerged with Rand.

  That was the plan.

  “I have a bad feeling,” Petra said, cracking her knuckles.

  Amy didn’t want to voice her agreement and add to it. “You know, you’ll get arthritis doing that.”

  “That’s just a myth. And it’s better than chewing my fingernails.” She spread her fingers, showing red-painted nails. “Hey, where’s your pep talk?”

  “It’s going to be fine,” Amy said without much conviction.

  “You’re thinking of that sketch Lucas drew, aren’t you? Or that he saw you get shot.”

  “I’m trying not to think of either, thank you.”

  Petra settled back in her seat. “It’ll be fine. Lucas said it was an easy rescue. We have tear gas. And the element of surprise. You won’t get shot because you’re not leaving this car. It’ll be fine.”

  Amy wasn’t going to point out that the quiver in Petra’s voice undermined her sentiment. She wrapped her fingers around the steering wheel and waited for the call.

  “We’re so going to get caught,” Petra said, her eyes wide. “And we’ll be guinea pigs for the enemy Offspring. He’ll practice—I don’t know—setting us on fire or something.”

  Amy put her hand on Petra’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine. Really.”

  Petra opened the phone for the umpteenth time. “Oh, no.”

  “What?”

  She held up the phone with its blank screen. “The battery’s dead.”

  “But we made sure to plug it in so it would charge all night. It worked this morning.”

  Petra slapped her hand over her mouth. “We plugged it into one of the hot outlets, I bet. The switch has to be on, and it wasn’t. The phone must have still had a little power left. I didn’t check the bars because I assumed it had charged.”

  Amy stared at the long road going in. “Now what?”

  Lucas got out of the truck and went to the bed to ostensibly pull out fencing poles while Eric made small talk with the guard.

  “What is this place, anyway?” he asked, nodding toward the building, an agreeably curious expression on his face.

  “How long is this going to take?” the guard asked, ignoring his question.

  “What, maybe an hour?” he asked Lucas.

  “About,” Lucas mumbled, laying out the poles, which were obviously not tall enough for the job. Fortunately he was on the back side of the truck and mostly out of view. He pulled out the roll of fencing, grabbing the shotgun, masks, and canister as he did.

  “Well, we’ll get to it,” Eric said, and headed around the back to help Lucas.

  They set the roll several feet from the truck so it wouldn’t impede their escape. A flash of movement directed Lucas’s eye to the road leading in. His heart nearly stopped when he saw the Camry backing up. What the hell were they doing?

  When the guard began to follow his gaze, Lucas started coughing and choking. Eric slapped him on the back while Lucas made sure the guard’s attention had been snagged enough for the car to get out of sight.

  Just in time, too. The other guard came around the back of the east wing. That would save time if he were in the vicinity. Once they had the gun on the near guard, they were to have him call the other guard and then walk the two of them into the side exit where Eric had gone in for Lucas. Then they’d set off the tear gas and lay them out, along with anyone who happened to be in the area. They’d brought an extra mask for Rand.

  The guard remained close. Eric pulled the roll as he scooted backward, ending up next to the guard, and then pressed the gun into his waist. To the second guard, he said, “You, come over here.”

  The man weighed his options until he saw Lucas with the shotgun aimed at him. He walked over.

  “Nice and slow, hand over your guns,” Eric said. “At this angle if I pull the trigger, I’ll get both of you with one bullet.”

  Both men complied. Eric stuffed their guns into his waistband as Lucas walked over with the gas masks and canister.

  Eric nodded toward the side door, and, with a nudge, the two men headed over. “Open that door.”

  Eric and Lucas kept their movements casual and the guns hidden in case anyone was looking out the windows. Lucas pressed the Send button on his phone and rang Petra’s phone to set her into action. The guard unlocked the door, and Lucas edged it open while peering inside. “It’s clear.”

  The smell of old linoleum hit his nose, bringing back those horrible days of captivity. He pushed the thought away and walked in, the other three following him. He passed the showers and an empty room, to a locked door. Through the window he saw Rand, pacing back and forth; at least he wasn’t strapped down.

  Lucas turned to the guard. “Give me the key to this room.”

  “We don’t have any interior keys. We’re only assigned to the perimeter.”

  He was probably telling the truth. “Set off the tear gas. I’ll shoot the lock.” The possibility that they might need to do that was why they’d brought the shotgun. Less chance of a ricochet.

  Eric pulled out the canister. It slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. One of the guards kicked it down the hallway. The other turned and pulled the fire alarm lever. Bells clanged, shattering the silence. A second later a guard appeared at the far end of the hallway, weapon drawn. Eric shot, dropping him, then turned and shot the guard who
had pulled the lever. Lucas had the other guard held at gunpoint. His heart was hammering. It was supposed to be in and out with minimal violence. Dammit. The injured guard writhed on the floor, blood gushing from his shoulder.

  “Eric—” Lucas looked up to see him tearing down the hallway toward the middle section of the building. “Son of a bitch.” He turned back to the guard who was still standing. “Move.” He indicated the empty room next to Rand’s, pushing him in and locking the door. The other guard had stopped moving. This wasn’t good.

  Gerard Darkwell was in the session room with his star Offspring when the alarm pealed. Trouble. He opened the door and spotted Olivia paused near the reception desk. “Lock yourself in the resident’s hall,” he ordered. “Keep the girl in there, too. Go!”

  Olivia jerked into action, running toward the wide doors and punching in the security code to lock them down. The hospital had been set up for riots. He heard a gunshot. Another. They were under attack again!

  He turned to the muscular young man who had jumped from the recliner, body tensed for action. “What can I do, sir? I’m trained in multiple weapons. I want these bastards.”

  Gerard recognized the sadistic hunger he’d seen in the mirror many times. He nodded toward the chair. “The weapon I’m most interested in is your mind. Find Petra, but don’t get too close. We don’t want her to sense you.”

  A minute later the man said, “I see Petra with another woman. They’re in a car, and…they’re out front, on the road leading in.”

  Petra was about to walk to the end of the road and see if Lucas and Eric had gone into the building when an alarm went off. “Something’s gone wrong.”

  Amy pulled up to the edge of the road. She could just barely peer through the trees at the corner and see the truck. “I don’t see them. They went in.”

  “Should I go to the truck?”

  “No, let’s wait. When we see them coming out, I’ll tear over and you can jump in. This doesn’t feel right.”

  “See, I knew it didn’t. They should be out by now. The next shift is going to be here in fifteen minutes.”