“You better hurry,” Joanna said. Red could feel a tug on the back of his shirt now, the Grim Reaper come to lead him away. “Red doesn’t have much longer.”
Akako turned to Red and met his eyes. He could feel her search through his thoughts for his memories of Aggie. She stopped when she got to their kiss in the archives. “I’ll do it,” she said.
Without preamble, Akako disappeared back through the sand, much faster than she’d surfaced. Joanna took Red’s hand and then pointed to where Akako had vanished. “It’s your turn,” she said.
“Do you know what it’s like?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “I can’t take you that far.”
“Oh.” He looked into her eyes and forced a smile, although he knew she could feel his sadness. “Will she take good care of my Aggie?”
“Probably. That’s the best I can say.”
“I suppose it will have to do.” He nodded to the little girl. “Thanks.”
Then he disappeared through the sand.
***
In her six years as the Scarlet Knight, Emma had experienced some bizarre things. Besides just the whole concept of the magic red armor, she had experienced a different timeline in which her parents were alive and she had married Dan. She had torn out her own heart to sacrifice to an evil goddess, then gone to the astral plane, and then come back. An alien had attached itself to her. She had switched bodies with her best friend.
None of that compared to the strangeness that awaited her when she emerged from the cauldron. Her world had gone from black as the void in her dream with Sarah to an explosion of white. She soon realized she was still an infant, unable to do more than cry like a newborn.
Even that didn’t top what happened next. She managed to peek around Sylvia’s shoulder to watch as the young man she didn’t know walked towards the crazed Ms. Chiostro to profess his love for her. Their lips touched and then the entire basement exploded in a flash of light like the one Emma had experienced after she’d been taken from the cauldron. She closed her eyes in time to avoid being blinded. When she opened her eyes again, Ms. Chiostro stabbed the young man in the chest. Strangely, as he collapsed to the floor she told him that she loved him.
Things got stranger as the young man lay on the floor. His body twitched for a few moments before it disappeared. One moment it was there and the next it was gone. This would have been odd enough, except a moment later another body appeared on the floor. This body belonged to a young Asian woman about Ms. Chiostro’s age. When she stood up, her glossy black hair covered most of her back. She pushed this hair forward to cover her breasts.
“Who are you?” Ms. Chiostro asked. She dropped the knife to the floor.
“I’m Akako,” the woman said. “It means ‘red’ in Japanese.”
“You’re another one of him, aren’t you?”
“Yes. He told you, didn’t he? There are many of us.”
“But what happened to him? Where did he go?”
“He’s dead. I’m sorry.”
“What are you doing here?”
The Asian woman who called herself Akako stepped forward to take Ms. Chiostro by the shoulders. “Where I come from, you were my husband.”
“Husband? As in I was a man?”
“Yes.”
“And I died?”
“Yes. But now we can be together again. Red made the sacrifice. His death opened a hole in reality. A hole for me to step through.” Akako touched Ms. Chiostro’s cheek. “I know it won’t be the same, but I still love you.”
“You don’t even know me!”
Throughout this, Sylvia kept little Emma and Becky pressed close, her metal hook cold against Emma’s back. Emma could feel Sylvia shake, unable to watch the strange events with her sister. Emma still peeked around her shoulder to watch as the Asian woman pulled Ms. Chiostro close. “I love you, Agnes. I look into your eyes and they’re the same as his.”
“I don’t understand,” Ms. Chiostro said.
“Don’t you see? We’re meant to be together.”
“I don’t know—” Akako silenced her with a kiss on the mouth. The part of Emma’s brain that belonged to a baby wanted to turn away—kissing was yucky. She continued to watch as Ms. Chiostro kissed Akako back.
When they parted, Ms. Chiostro turned to Emma. “It’s not nice to peek, young lady,” Ms. Chiostro said.
Sylvia finally let them go and turned to face her sister. “So you’re Red too?”
“Yes. In a way”
Sylvia looked as if she wanted to ask something else, but then she just shook her head. Becky, now freed from Sylvia’s bosom, began to wail.
“Don’t worry, girls. I’ll take care of you. Just close your eyes.”
“Agnes, don’t—” Sylvia said.
“It’ll be all right, dear. Trust me.” Ms. Chiostro turned to the girls. “Now, do as I said. Close your eyes.”
With a huff, Becky closed her eyes, as did Emma. A minute later, Ms. Chiostro said in a husky voice, “OK, girls, you can open them.”
Emma opened her eyes and looked down to see her adult breasts—such as they were. Her midsection was a little more padded than before so that her ribs didn’t show through. When she put a hand to her head, she felt her hair had grown back to shoulder length, like before she had lost her job at the Plaine Museum.
As for Becky, she was still heavy, but back to only a little plump instead of morbidly obese, like before Steve’s death. She took a handful of her gut and gave it a shake. “I’ve never been so glad to see this before in my life,” she said. She turned to Emma and hugged her. It had been too long since they had hugged like that—like best friends.
The moment didn’t last long enough for Emma’s taste. Becky pulled away and turned to Ms. Chiostro. “Thank—” she stopped as the witch collapsed to the floor.
“What happened to her?”
Akako knelt down beside Ms. Chiostro. She took the other woman’s hand. “She’ll be fine. She just needs some rest.” Akako scooped her up from the floor and then began to carry Ms. Chiostro up the stairs.
Emma started after her until Sylvia tapped her shoulder with her claw. “Maybe you should get dressed first.”
Her cheeks red, Emma reached down to pick up the clothes on the floor. At first she picked up Becky’s much larger shirt and sweatpants. Then she remembered who she was again and picked up Emma Earl’s clothes.
Chapter 30
Emma and Becky followed Ms. Chiostro’s lead by going to sleep. Emma went up to her room in the guest bedroom while Sylvia allowed Becky to use her bed. The old witch spent the night beside her sister’s bed, along with Akako. Emma checked in on Ms. Chiostro, but the witch looked no different than when she’d collapsed in the basement. She was still pale and drawn.
Emma set the rusty thimble next to Ms. Chiostro’s bed; she hoped the talisman would protect the witch as it had protected her in Russia. Then she put a hand to the witch’s forehead; Ms. Chiostro’s skin felt like ice and yet she sweated. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Her power was too unstable after that fight with Greesha and she tried to use too much of it,” Sylvia said softly. “It’ll take time for her to stabilize. Or she might never come out of it.”
“I’m sorry,” Emma said. “This is my fault.”
“Agnes knows better,” Sylvia said. The old witch dropped her sister’s limp hand and then stomped out of the room. Despite the anger on the surface, Emma suspected Sylvia’s heart was broken. She didn’t go after Sylvia; she figured the witch needed some time alone.
Becky stood in the hallway; she watched Ms. Chiostro from the doorway, but didn’t move any closer. Emma updated her on the witch’s condition. “She’ll make it,” Becky said.
Before they parted for the night, Emma cleared her throat and then said, “You were a pretty good Scarlet Knight. All things considered.”
“Not as good as you.”
“I’ve had more practice.”
“Yeah, well, I th
ink only Emma Earl can handle being Emma Earl.” Becky patted her on the shoulder. “Goodnight, kid.”
“Goodnight.” As she sank onto the mattress, Emma wondered if she would hear the Call again. Would she be allowed to put the armor on again? She hoped so. She glanced at the meteor crate at the foot of her bed. Sarah had transferred herself back into the meteor after Emma had fetched it from Rampart State, or at least so the alien had claimed. Whether Sarah had actually done so, Emma didn’t know. She supposed she would find out when she tried to put on the scarlet armor again. Before that, she needed some sleep.
She expected to dream, to replay her memories of Becky, or the horrible incident in the basement of Ms. Chiostro’s house. Or perhaps her mother would again urge her to take up the Scarlet Knight’s cause or perhaps Sarah would visit her to remind her what she needed to do.
There was nothing, only an empty blackness as when she was in the cauldron. Only this time she didn’t awake to a horrible burst of white light. She awoke to a hand shaking her. “Come on, kid, it’s time to get up,” Becky said—in Becky’s voice.
Emma sat up in bed. She checked to make sure she was still herself and that she was still an adult. “You’re still you,” Becky said. Emma turned to face her. “And I’m still me.”
“Well, that’s something.” Emma pulled back the covers to stand up. She nearly catapulted herself from the bed; she wasn’t used to so little effort to move herself after so much time in Becky’s heavier body.
Becky caught her before she fell and steadied her. “You should have seen me trying to get out of bed. It was like trying to climb out of quicksand. Still, it’s good to be me again. At least, mostly me.” She patted the stomach that had shrunk significantly thanks to Ms. Chiostro.
“How is she doing?”
“She’s still sleeping. That girl is with her.”
“What about Sylvia?”
“She went out to find her truck. It seems somebody took it for a joyride.”
“I couldn’t take the meteor on the bus.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. Gives her something to do anyway.”
“I suppose so.” Emma followed her friend down to the kitchen for breakfast. She was relieved to find her brain didn’t demand she stuff it full of fatty foods. She only had the stomach for a piece of toast with a light coat of strawberry jam.
Even Becky didn’t seem to have much of an appetite; she ate only three pieces of toast with a larger amount of jam and butter. “It’s going to take some getting used to,” Becky said. “I don’t think I ate more than a couple of crackers when I was you.” She shook her head. “Though I did start craving those awful protein shakes—and Red Bull.”
Emma laughed at this. She knew better, though, than to describe her eating habits in Becky’s body. “I could go for one of those myself.”
Though for the moment things seemed all right between them, Emma knew it was because they had not discussed the main bone of contention: Dan. He was at the Rampart Arms hotel right now and thought he loved Becky. What would happen the next time he saw her? Would he realize it wasn’t the same Becky he’d made love to earlier?
She knew better than to mention this as well. For the moment it was better to focus on the more serious problems. “We’ve got to take care of those Russians—and Koschei,” she announced. “I think I have an idea how to do it.”
“Didn’t we already take care of the Russians? Donovan should have them by now.”
“There will be more of them. Bykov won’t stop until he gets the meteor. He doesn’t know what it is, but he knows it’s powerful.”
“What exactly is it?” she asked and Emma told her. “An alien ship? Like little green men?”
“They look pretty much like giant grasshoppers. With silver eyes.”
“Giant grasshoppers with silver eyes? And how do they fit into that thing?”
“They’ve turned their bodies into energy.” She was about to launch into a lecture of how this worked, but she could tell Becky wasn’t interested. “It’s like their souls are in there.”
“Oh, I see. How many are there?”
“Two. One calls herself Sarah—”
“Sarah?”
“It’s easier to say than her real name.”
“I see. Go on.”
“She attached herself to me. That’s why we switched bodies; the armor didn’t want her touching it.”
“That’s pretty self-centered of it.”
“The other one attached itself to Bykov’s son Ivan back in Russia. He came here and now he’s trying to hunt me down.”
“So he’s Koschei?”
“Yes.”
“And he’s this Bykov guy’s son?”
“Yes.”
“Wonderful. So what’s your great idea?”
“We lure the Russians and Koschei into an ambush. Then we deal with them all at once.”
“How are we going to do that? We don’t know where any of them are.”
“I’ll take care of that.” Emma looked down at the table. “There’s something I’m going to need you to do, but it’ll have to wait until Sylvia gets back.”
“What is it?”
“I’ll explain later—after I’ve talked with her.”
“So what do you need me to do?”
“Nothing for the moment. Maybe Akako needs some help upstairs.”
“I’d rather not go up there. That woman gives me the creeps.”
“I know what you mean,” Emma said. She thought of how the woman had just appeared from nowhere. From what she could gather, it was some kind of dimensional rift the other Red had opened before he died. Emma didn’t understand all of the specifics, nor did she really want to. Like Becky, she would prefer not to be around the woman, at least for now. If Akako stuck around, she supposed they would have to deal with it.
Emma pushed back from the table and nearly fell over in her chair when she used too much force. “This will take some getting used to,” she said. Becky grinned at her. “If you don’t mind, I need to make a long-distance phone call.”
Emma went into the parlor to use Ms. Chiostro’s phone. It took some effort to get the international operator to connect her with Bykov’s estate in Russia. She supposed Bykov was the type who would send out his goons to punish a telemarketer for a call during dinner. After a half-hour, she finally managed to reach Markova.
“Dr. Earl, it is a pleasure to hear your voice,” the woman said.
“I suppose you already know what happened.”
“Yes. My employer is furious.”
“I’m sure he’ll have his B team to send for us.”
“Yes. Unless you cooperate.”
“That’s what I intend to do. I’m tired of this bloodshed. You can tell your employer he can have his rock and his son back tonight.”
“His son? You know where Ivan is?”
“I have a pretty good idea where he will be. Tell your employer to have his men meet me at the Hillside Reservoir at midnight. In exchange for the meteor and Ivan, I expect no further acts of violence against my friends or me. Is that clear?”
“I understand. I will make the arrangements myself.”
“Good. I trust I won’t have to deal with any double-crosses?”
“I will make certain of it, Dr. Earl.”
“Thank you.” Emma hung up the phone.
“The reservoir?” Becky asked from the doorway. “Why there?”
“You’ll see.” Emma checked the clock on the wall; she had nearly slept in until noon. There was still a lot to be done in the next twelve hours. “Anyway, I have to go see someone.”
“Are you going to see Dan? It might be a little awkward, don’t you think?”
“No, someone else.” Emma said nothing else; she headed up to her room to find her waterproof boots and a can of air freshener.
***
She saw the ruined sculpture of her at a junction in the sewer pipes. The toilet paper roll limbs had been smashed flat, as had t
he cardboard chest. The head had vanished completely; she imagined Jim had smashed it to pieces and then hurled it into a pipe that fed into the harbor so he would never have to see her face again in any form.
Because of this, she expected trouble. For a man who lived in the sewers, Jim Rizzard was surprisingly sensitive. Emma was the only human friend he had made in over twenty years; her apparent abandonment would probably make him never trust another human again. At least not unless she could convince him to forgive her.
There was another, more selfish reason for her to apologize to Jim. Besides that she needed the sewer pipes to reach the Sanctuary, she had the more immediate need to cut through the sewers to reach the reservoir without the risk Koschei would follow her. The last thing she wanted was for him to jump her before she could spring her trap. With the sewers, she hoped to cut down on that possibility.
As she continued along the sewers, she was grateful for the waterproof boots. She had grown used to the smell, but she still didn’t like to touch the water; she never knew what sort of things could be in it. In Rampart City you never knew what someone might flush down their toilet.
Though her eyesight wasn’t good enough without the Scarlet Knight’s helmet to see in the dark, she could sense some of Jim’s friends behind her. She wondered where Pepe had gone after the cement plant. That answer came soon enough as the rat swam along the surface of the water towards her, his silver stripe recognizable even in the water.
She greeted him in ratspeak. This prompted him to stop for a moment. Behind Pepe, Emma could see dozens of other rats, a sort of rodent attack group sent by Jim to eliminate her, or at least to determine her intentions.
Pepe swam over to the side of the pipe and emerged from the water. He shook himself off like a dog. Through a series of squeaks and hisses, he asked if it was really her. “Yes, it’s me. I’m back to my old self again,” she replied in the rat language. She half-expected Pepe to jump on her with joy, but instead he warily approached her. His nose sniffed at her foot to determine if it really was her. After a moment of deliberation, he squeaked happily.
Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Wrath of Isis Page 27
