Laura watches Alice mumble and stare at the tip of her fork like it is the prettiest thing she’d ever seen. Laura finds herself feeling sorry for the woman. She’s lost her daughter, after all. Her drive to find the truth has taken her through the fields of madness. It must be hard to fail so miserably at the one thing you try to do. It’s sad when failure makes murder and extortion seem reasonable. Laura doesn’t know failure, but she has empathy enough to see it and feel the deep sadness that accompanies it.
Alice finishes her burger and fries and a milkshake and looks up only to say, “Going to eat those fries?” Laura shakes her head. Alice pulls the plate closer and stuffs her mouth, then makes more notes.
When they get going, it’s dark.
Laura guides Alice to Allan’s neighborhood, and Alice stops a couple of blocks away from his home. Laura knows Allan isn’t home, so she’s not putting him in danger. Rubic might be home. That won’t be good. The house is probably being watched, so there’s a chance Alice will be caught, a risk that is worth the trip.
Alice finds a driveway and parks.
“How do you know the owners won’t see us?” Laura asks.
“See the car?” Alice points. “Lincoln Town Car, fifteen years old and in perfect condition. An elderly person lives here. They’re long asleep.”
The drive is sheltered on both sides by huge hedges. The house is a ways up the drive, and the garage is off the main house. They’ve stopped far enough away not to trip any security lights, but Laura hopes there’s a camera pointed at them.
Alice turns to Laura. “I need to cuff you. You have to stay here.”
Laura obliges and is cuffed to the armrest. This is good. Alice will be long gone when I rip this armrest right off and make a run for it.
“I’m sorry about this.”
“About what?”
Alice lunges at Laura with a white rag. The rag lands on her nose and mouth, and after a moment’s struggle, Laura inhales. A chemical smell burns her nostrils and throat, and she passes out.
#
Laura awakes with a start. She pulls on the handcuffs, but they’re holding her tight. She has no idea how long she was out. The Jeep flies down the highway, blasting an Aerosmith song. Alice sings along like a teenager.
“Oh, nice of you to join me again.” Alice says and continues to sing along with the song.
“What did you do to me?” Laura’s throat is dry and hot. She blinks away tears and squirms to get more comfortable.
The lights of the city fly by, and the wind blows her hair around violently. Laura wants to throw up.
Alice turns down the radio. “Calm down, it was just a little chloroform. Simple oxygen reduction and cellular membrane destruction. Your body will expunge the damaged cells and replace them. No harm done.”
Laura’s head thumps. “I can’t believe you did that.”
Alice turns up the radio again.
“You’re in a good mood.” Laura notices.
Alice holds up a receipt. “Found this on the sidewalk leading up to Allan’s house. He dropped it,” she yells over the guitar solo.
The receipt is from Morna’s Flowers and Odd Things.
“I think Allan found the flowers there.”
“Huh. Never thought to look at a flower shop.”
Alice’s eyes grew wide. “I know! Ha ha ha. So simple, yet not.”
A half hour later, Alice takes the exit heading toward the mountain and, shortly afterward, pulls up to the flower shop.
The moon has risen late, and the stars, far from the city glow, fill the sky. The wind is still fierce, more so closer to the mountain, but is scented with pine and coolness.
Alice uncuffs Laura. “You’re coming with me this time.”
“Great. Thanks for sparing me another dose from your rag,” Laura mutters.
Alice aims her gun at the glass door and pulls the trigger. The shot splits the peaceful night air, sending birds flying in a panic and Laura’s hands to her ears. She’s too late; the ringing now bounces through her brain, wreaking havoc on her neurons.
Ignoring the building’s alarm, Alice kicks the shattered glass with her hiking boot a few times until it falls to the floor in a heap of fragments held together by sticky window film. She grabs Laura’s arm and pushes her in front. “Hurry. We have only ten minutes before the police show up.”
“You couldn’t have figured out a better way to get inside? Geez.” Laura’s head is now splitting and thumping, making her brain roll around in her skull. “They open in, like, four hours.” She keeps her hands over her ears, trying to keep out the blaring alarm.
Alice and Laura pass the tall shelves filled with ‘odd things’ and potted plants, and round the counter. Alice stops. There is a small desk lamp illuminating a large woman who’d fallen over in her chair. The woman isn’t moving. A birdcage sits in the far corner with a gray parrot flapping its wings and squawking frantically.
“Do you know what the flowers look like?” Alice asks over the bombardment of obnoxious sounds.
“Just their description.” Laura’s skull is cracking like an egg from the ruckus.
“Good, you check the cooler, I’ll find out who her supplier is.” Alice rummages through the desk drawers and pulls out a manila envelope labeled ‘Purchase Orders.’ Inside is a paper that lists details of the recent delivery, and it includes the Dahlia Pompons. Which is what Allan’s receipt described. “Getting closer, Allan. We’re right behind you.”
Laura exits the cooler. “No more Hubbus.”
“Of course not. I’d expect Allan to buy them all. But we have the source. Come on!”
Just then the woman wakes up. She grabs Alice’s foot, tripping her. The gun flies from her fingers.
Alice turns and punches the woman in the nose. The woman screams and lets go, but scrambles to her knees anyway. The two women scuttle toward the gun.
“Yer not to get that wee gun, Mrs. Whoever ye ar!” The woman elbows Alice in the ribs.
Alice cries out. The woman gets ahead of her.
Laura rushes toward the gun, but in the low light slips on a paper that had fallen from the desk. She falls on her hands, causing her wrists to spasm in pain.
Alice grabs the pirate-like shirt of the woman and pulls. It tears easily off her shoulder. The woman still gets the gun. She sits up and turns to face Alice, but Alice leaps on top of her. They both have the gun, rocking back and forth, screaming and trying to squirm free. The woman punches Alice in the eye, splitting the skin under her eyebrow. Alice crams a knee into the woman's stomach. The gun slides away from the two women.
Laura grabs a large glass vase, raises it over her head, and throws it at Alice.
At the instant it would have hit, Alice rolls. The vase smashes on the other woman’s head. Alice leaps to her feet and grabs the gun.
“Get to the Jeep, NOW!” She aims at Laura, but is shaking badly and bleeding from her wound. “Wait! We can’t let this woman tell the cops we were here. Shit!” She considers the situation for a split second. “Get her arm. Help me drag her to the Jeep!”
The two drag the woman over the broken door and the glass shards to the Jeep. Laura grabs the woman’s feet, Alice grabs her shoulders, and they pick her up. Laura screams and drops the woman’s feet. “She’s too big and my wrists hurt!”
“Do it, girl! Or I’ll… I’ll crack your skull!”
Laura thinks about running. She glances at the empty parking lot. If she does run, she won’t get very far. Plus, Laura feels that her responsibility is to prevent Alice from finding Allan, to save her mom and possibly help this woman not get hurt worse. Running is not an option and never will be again. Not until her loved ones are safe.
Laura and Alice try lifting the woman again. They manage to get her onto the back bumper then roll her into the Jeep. The woman bleeds from small cuts on her arms, cheek, and scalp, but is breathing. Her legs and arms stick out oddly, forcing Alice to cram her unnaturally into the small rear space. The back door
barely clicks closed.
Alice forces Laura into the passenger seat, cuffs her to the armrest, and hops in. When she hits the gas, the tires squeal, frightening the birds out of the trees again.
Chapter 14
The Sleeping Song
Rubic and Jibbawk arrive on Peebland in a blink of an eye, though it is a painful trip similar to a hot wax hair removal treatment. To top off the sheer terror Rubic felt, he’s landed in gray and black mud that stinks of sulfur and other assorted gasses.
Rubic hauls himself to his feet and slaps at the mud, trying to get somewhat clean. “Ah man!” He looks for dry land and realizes he’s standing in a slow rolling mud river a dozen yards across. On either side of the mud river are yellow and green bushes and trees surrounded by tall rolling hills. The horizon is a pale purple. Everything looks like a false color painting. Rubic is on another planet. Elation fills his chest. Pollen from a weird flower took him across the galaxy! “Yeah, baby! This is… awesome!”
“Thisss way,” Jibbawk says, already trudging through the mud. “We need to hurry.”
Rubic follows Jibbawk. Every step makes a sucking sound, and each is harder to pull from the mud than the previous step. Large bubbles build under the surface then pop, releasing foul gasses. Rubic gags and slides up his shirt collar, covering his nose and mouth. “This is where Allan arrived?”
“No. Traveling is not that precise. The hole in ssspace dropss us off anywhere within a fifty mile radiuss. That is a lot of territory to cover, and we are behind.” Jibbawk’s large ostrich-shaped feet pull from the mud easily, and he gets to the mud bank with time to spare.
Rubic hurries, but his boots are like magnets to the mud. Only a few feet from the edge, he gets stuck. “Jibbawk!”
Jibbawk returns with a huge black rock and tosses it near Rubic. It lands with a flub and barely makes a splash. Jibbawk also tosses a stick. “Ssstick will break your sssuction and the rock you can ssstep on.” He turns and leaves Rubic to fight his way out.
“Thanks for the advice,” Rubic mumbles. He crams the stick into the marbled muck and works it under his shoe. His foot releases and he steps on the stone. He’s working the other foot loose when a worm as thick as a baseball bat pokes out of the mud. It has a cluster of eyes on the end, or what is presumed to be eyes, but no mouth. It senses him. Rubic, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, raises his arms up. “Boo!” The mud worm dives back into the mud, moving as easily as through water.
“My first alien! How cool! Little freaky, but cool!” Rubic calls out. Jibbawk is too far ahead to hear. “Well, second alien. Jibbawk, wait up, man!” Rubic wrenches the stick up and down until his other foot comes free. He balances on the stone. When it starts to sink, he jumps and lands in shallow mud. One more leap gets him to solid ground. Next to him is a yellow bush that looks plastic. He inspects it closer and wants to touch it, but he knows better. The yellow branches are solid, and the leaves are growths that look more like coral. A pod, probably a chrysalis for some kind of insect, hangs onto one of the yellow clumps. It’s brown with blue spots. “Oh my God! Jibbawk, did you see this?!” Rubic realizes he has a cell phone in his pocket and whips it out. He snaps a dozen pictures. When he realizes he’s too far behind Jibbawk, he runs to catch up.
Jibbawk follows the shore of the mud river while looking at a digital projection about two feet across. The projection comes from a white, round device. “Where did you get that tech?”
“I took it from an advancced racce whom I met on Plethiomia. I mean was given. They presented me with this backpack and a ship. I’m friends with many a sssociety on many planetsss.”
“So that’s a map that will help us find Allan?”
“Yesss. It helpsss me locate the wormholes the Hubbu makess in ssspace and time. They leave a trace energy behind that lastsss for a day or ssso.”
Rubic stares at the digital map. The map lines are blue and crisp, showing the mud river, hills, valleys, and a mountain. Pink dots are scattered over the map. “The dots are the Hubbu signature?”
“Yesss, Hubbu pollen are constantly making holesss and traveling to and fro, but in sssmall clusters. Allan would make a large hole. Which I don’t ssseee.” Jibbawk sounds irritated, and he turns sharply into the bushes. “We need higher ground for the ssscanner to work properly.”
They trudge over more yellow bushes and around a dark green tree with huge yellow flowers. Rubic sees a butterfly as big as a basketball slurping from a flower. “Check that out!” He takes more photos.
“I sssee.” Jibbawk doesn’t look up.
Rubic watches it for a moment. It has clear wings with red veins and an orange fuzzy body. Rubic stands on his tiptoes to get closer. The butterfly wings, which have been passively opening and closing, pause. The tongue retracts into the head, and the tail end opens up. A stinger comes out, curling upward like a scorpion. Rubic leaps back. “I feel like I want a hazmat suit!”
“Hurry up you ssslow creature. We don’t want to lose Allan’s sssignature!”
“Right,” Rubic mutters.
They push through the vegetation and proceed up a hill composed of loose gray sand, wind-sculpted with ripples like the Sahara Desert. At the top, Jibbawk checks the digital map again. At the edge of the map is a bright cluster of pink dots.
“There’s the doorway,” Jibbawk mutters.
“That’s where Allan is?”
“It’sss where he was. We can track him from there.”
Rubic looks around. Gray hills of varying sizes rise to a volcano spewing lava down one side and into an ocean. “This place is so beautiful.”
Jibbawk keeps going, muttering, “You really are as sssentimental as a female.”
Rubic raises one eyebrow. “We’re more enlightened than you Lan Darrians seem to be. Ego only gets you so far.”
Jibbawk turns his head while he walks, engaging Rubic. “What ssstrength is there if not for ego? Tears and emotional tepidness? Cowardice? Ego builds cities, races, nurtures sssurvival, keeps fools in line.”
Rubic huffs. “No wonder your city needs help. Too much ego turns into oppression. Kicking the weaker guys stifles culture and innovation and progress. You’ve got a lot to learn about tolerance.” Jibbawk doesn’t respond, and Rubic is glad. He’s not interested in a philosophical debate about the proper use of power and regrets bringing it up. He wonders if Jibbawk has ever been on a date with the opposite sex, a date Jibbawk didn’t have to drag around by the hair.
Jibbawk heads down into a small valley filled with plants and trees, passing a large black stone that protrudes out of the sand.
Rubic inspects the stone. He touches the glassy surface and marvels at its shape. “I want you in my yard.” For a reason he doesn’t quite understand, touching the stone makes him feel centered, in control, and secure.
Movement catches Rubic’s eye. It looks like a small squirrel with a long neck. It nibbles on a bush with its tiny mouth then notices Rubic and scurries off. Another one of its friends darts away. Life surrounds Rubic: bugs bigger than his hand, frog-things, and something in a tree. The tree dweller stares with huge green eyes and has padded fingers and an orange coat of fur. Rubic takes more photos.
Halfway through the lush valley, the sky darkens. There hasn’t been a single cloud in the sky, only a small yellow dot of a sun, much smaller than Earth’s sun. But as the horizon brings darkness it also brings bad weather. A rumbling shakes the sand under Rubic’s feet.
“SSSSs.”
“What’s wrong?” Rubic runs after Jibbawk, slipping on the sand, but not falling. “What’s that rumble?”
“Sssounds like thunder. Lotsss of it.” Jibbawk leaps over a bush, spreading its sharp wing-like arms for balance.
Rubic tries to keep up, but he isn’t as nimble.
The rumble shakes the ground and rattles the trees.
Clouds roll over the sky like tanks and bring an assault of lightning the likes of which Rubic has never seen. A blindingly bright bolt of lightning tears through t
he sky, sending Rubic to his knees. BOOM! Thunder assaults the ground. Rubic’s ears ring like a gun has gone off next to him. He sees Jibbawk urging him on, but he can’t hear what Jibbawk’s saying. Rubic gets to his feet and runs. He dodges small, sharp bushes and leaps over a patch of thick-bladed grass. Lightning hits the tree to his right. Sparks fly like fireworks. Rubic ducks as he runs. His boot slips on a sharp rock, and he twists his ankle, but he keeps running. More lightning crashes, and each bolt hits the ground somewhere nearby.
CRACK, BOOOM!
Rubic’s heart pounds, and his gasps are deep and unfulfilling.
Jibbawk waits for Rubic to get close then turns and leads Rubic to a small cave in an outcropping that juts from the side of a hill. The two duck in it like gophers into their holes. They can sit up, but not stand, in the small space. The cave is deep, but the still air means that it ends.
Rummmmmmble. CRASH!
Rubic can breathe again. He thought he’d have a heart attack right there in the valley. The wind, lightning, and thunder continue gaining strength. Rubic and Jibbawk watch in silence. He sits cross-legged, and Jibbawk sits on its feet, sharp quills jutting out like a cactus.
After a half hour of terrifyingly close lightning, Rubic relaxes and starts to enjoy the light show. He pulls out his water bottle and drinks. He takes out some jerky and bites into it and then offers a piece to Jibbawk.
Jibbawk waves off the jerky. “I do not eat meat that looksss a thousand years old. My meat must run red.”
“Suit yourself.” Rubic chews. A six-arm lightning bolt splits the night. “This storm is crazy. I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s rather pretty, but freaky as well. You’ve been here before, right? On this planet?”
“No, I haven’t. But I can sssurvive anywhere. I even sssurvived being dead once.” Jibbawk’s red eyes zero in on something outside the cave. It looks up into the dark clouds and back to the valley.
“What is it? See something?”
“Shhh, hear that?” Jibbawk is quiet for a moment. Then it yawns. Its sharp, large beak opens farther than Rubic thought possible. Jibbawk shakes its head hard and rubs its eyes. “What is thisssssssss?” Jibbawk sounds like a hissing snake, its head swaying heavily, eyes fluttering. Though Jibbawk tries desperately to remain awake, it isn’t succeeding.
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