The Shimmer
Page 26
She stepped into the middle of the road, trying to cross, trying to get out of the way of those two cars...and they must have seen her, a figure in the middle of the bridge that wasn’t there, a vague shape in the path...she heard the shriek of brakes and the sound of tires squealing on wet pavement.
The big black Benz swerved left to miss her, and the other car swerved left to miss her...and so, inevitably, they met in the middle, a violent clash of metal on metal, and the big black Benz drove the smaller car across the median and through the lane and into the guard rail, where they locked in grinding steel and hot blue sparks—the tangled wrecks hit the rail, bounced once and then broke through, and there they hovered on the brink...she heard a child screaming...a moment of balanced forces...a moment frozen in time...and then the shriek of bending steel...and they went over the edge...they hit the surface of Matanzas Inlet yards apart...floated for a moment, the Benz going first, and then the black truck...bubbles rising, an oil slick, and the lights of the black truck visible under the water for a short while...and then dark water, and a shimmering veil of starlight, and then silence.
She stood there in the middle of the bridge, shivering in the cold wind off the ocean, the fog swirling around her, watching the ripples subside, seeing bubbles of air rising up from the deep, and she saw a faint blue glow far down in the water, the black truck down there, the lights still on, not yet shorted out, and she thought, whoever was in that truck would be dying, dying right now, and, hope rising in her heart, she stood on the bridge and watched. For the Shimmer.
She walked over to the edge and looked down, and yes, there was the Shimmer, the water was changing, dissolving into a veil of blue light, a glowing mist that came up out of the deep and flowed around her, and she felt herself dissolving into it...
* * *
The Long Hall opened up... And Jack Redding was standing inside it, looking at her, barring the way.
She flared at him. “You have to get out of the way!”
“You’ve just killed my wife and child.”
“I didn’t—”
“You were the figure in the middle of the road. Barbara told me about you. You killed my wife and child.”
“How could I have killed your wife and child? They died last Christmas. I read about it. It happened months ago.”
“No. It happened here and now. Tonight.”
“How can that be?”
“You don’t know what you do, when you travel, do you? What you make happen when you travel.”
“What do I do?”
“You make a new world each time you do it. A world that is just a little bit different from the one you left. It looks the same, but it isn’t.”
She looked past him, at the Long Hall behind him. It stretched away into a hazy infinity, a hall of mirrors with a floor made of stars, and the green gates receding into the blue distance, each one a door into another time. She had to get by him and find the right gate. Find her locket. But he wouldn’t move.
“What do you want from me?”
“We’re going back.”
“Back where?”
“Back to that bridge, you and I.”
“We can’t.”
“We will,” he said, and then the Long Hall faded...
* * *
...and they were back on the Matanzas Bridge. They stood there together, and there was no crash, no broken barrier, no black truck deep in the water, no Mercedes-Benz lying on its roof fifty feet away on the ocean floor.
“What are you doing?”
“Making another world,” he said, and they both heard the wind-rush sound of tires on the pavement, and they felt the surface of the bridge begin to vibrate. The glow of headlights shone through the fog, and now they could hear engines: two cars, one coming from the north, and one from the south.
“It’s them,” she said. “The cars are coming. The accident. It’s going to happen again.”
Jack took in a deep breath, looked up at the faint veil of stars shining through the mist.
“You feel that?” he said.
“Feel what?”
“You don’t feel it?”
Selena stepped back and away, and she realized that there was something happening, something familiar, although it had only happened to her once before. But it had happened right here, at Matanzas Inlet, sixty years ago, when she had killed Clete Redding’s wife. The vortex that had held her, the force broken only by the locket, the locket she didn’t have. Her heart hammered in her chest, and her mouth was suddenly dry.
The headlights were coming closer, the bridge was vibrating. Jack looked to the north, and saw the black Jeep materialize out of the mist. And from the south, the big black Benz, moving much too fast. He turned and stepped into the middle of the road, facing the oncoming black SUV. He walked away from Selena and into the path of the black truck. Behind him he heard the Benz, now less than a hundred yards away. He stopped in the middle of the lane, facing the Jeep, lifted his bright gold badge case into the air and waited.
He heard Selena calling his name, and the sound of the ocean booming and roaring out in the darkness beyond the seawall, and then the Jeep was on him, and he saw the headlights dip and waver as the driver hit the brakes, hit them hard. The truck slipped and swerved as the driver fought the wheel, the tires fighting for traction.
And then it came to a stop, less than twenty feet away from him, and then the big black Benz went flashing by in the northbound lane, a blast from the horn as the car hurtled past, pushing a wall of wind, and then it was gone, into the dark, a glimmer of taillights, fading into the mist.
Jack walked forward, came to the driver’s side of the Jeep. The woman at the wheel was Barbara, and she rolled down the window, and looked at him.
“What’s the problem, Officer?”
Jack looked at his wife, and then into the backseat, where Katy sat staring back at him, eyes wide, holding a stuffed bear that Jack had given her on her last birthday. Warm air flowed from the car interior, and with it came the sound of Christmas music, Judy Garland singing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” and it nearly broke his heart. Barbara had no idea who he was.
Barbara was looking at him oddly. “I almost hit you,” she said. “Is there an accident?”
Jack shook his head, pulling himself together. “No, just a pedestrian in the roadway there.” He turned and looked back. Selena was still standing there.
The Long Hall was gone, and they were alone on the bridge. Jack turned back to Barbara, who was studying him carefully.
“Is she okay, Officer? That woman?”
“Yes. She’s just a little shaken up.”
Barbara looked at him. “Do we know each other?”
“Do we?”
“You look familiar.”
“Do I? I guess I have that kind of face.”
“Okay...well, thanks for stopping us. Is she going to be okay? That woman?”
“Yes. I’ll take care of her.”
“Well then.” And she put the car back in gear, stepped on the brake. “Where’s your patrol car?”
“Just down the road.”
“Well...okay then.” The truck started to roll, but slowly. She stopped it and said, “So, Merry Christmas, Officer.”
“Yes,” he said. “Merry Christmas to you. And your little girl.”
And she drove away.
* * *
Selena was standing in the middle of the median, watching him walk toward her, very aware of the pistol at his belt.
“That was your wife?”
“Yes.”
“She didn’t know you.”
“No. Different worlds. In this one, she doesn’t know me. We make a new world every time we travel. You’ve been doing it for years.”
“What happens now?”
“I go
back to my house.”
“And what do I do?”
“You stay here.”
“I stay here? You’re not going to arrest me?”
“No. I don’t think I’m going to have to do that.” He looked up at the stars again, and then back to Selena. “You feel that?”
The air was filled with a humming sound, and the fog seemed to be turning slowly, turning around them. The mist took on a glow, and the vibration grew into a deep bass rumble that seemed to come from everywhere around them.
“What’s happening?” she said.
“I have no idea. But I think you do.”
She stepped away from him, and turned to face into the darkness, and out of the mist came the glow of headlights, and she turned to say something to Jack, but he was gone, and she was in the middle of the road, and out of the night came an Oldsmobile, a big ancient tank, and at the wheel was Mary Alice Redding, and sitting beside her was Selena, looking back at Selena, standing in the middle of the road, looking back at herself, and then the car was on her, and the vortex closed around her, and she stood there in the roadway waiting for the impact—
* * *
She stepped away from him, and turned to face into the darkness, and out of the mist came the glow of headlights, and she turned to say something to Jack, but he was gone, and she was in the middle of the road, and out of the night came an Oldsmobile, a big ancient tank, and at the wheel was Mary Alice Redding, and sitting beside her was Selena, looking back at Selena, standing in the middle of the road, and then the car was on her, and the vortex closed around her, and she stood there in the roadway waiting for the impact—
She stepped away from him, and turned to face into the darkness, and out of the mist came the glow of headlights, and she turned to say something to Jack, but he was gone, and she was in the middle of the road, and out of the night came an Oldsmobile, a big ancient tank, and at the wheel was Mary Alice Redding, and sitting beside her was Selena, looking back at Selena, standing in the middle of the road, and then the car was on her, and the vortex closed around her, and she stood there in the roadway waiting for the impact—
She stepped away from him, and turned to face into the darkness, and out of the mist came the glow of headlights, and she turned to say something to Jack, but he was gone, and she was in the middle of the road, and out of the night came an Oldsmobile, a big ancient tank, and at the wheel was Mary Alice Redding, and sitting beside her was Selena, looking back at Selena, standing in the middle of the road, and then the car was on her, and the vortex closed around her, and she stood there in the roadway waiting for the impact—
She stepped away from him, and turned to face into the darkness, and out of the mist came the glow of headlights, and she turned to say something to Jack, but he was gone, and she was in the middle of the road, and out of the night came an Oldsmobile, a big ancient tank, and at the wheel was Mary Alice Redding, and sitting beside her was Selena, looking back at Selena, standing in the middle of the road, and then the car was on her, and the vortex closed around her, and she stood there in the roadway waiting for the impact—
She stepped away from him, and turned to face into the darkness, and out of the mist came the glow of headlights, and she turned to say something to Jack, but he was gone, and she was in the middle of the road, and out of the night came an Oldsmobile, a big ancient tank, and at the wheel was Mary Alice Redding, and sitting beside her was Selena, looking back at Selena, standing in the middle of the road, and then the car was on her, and the vortex closed around her, and she stood there in the roadway waiting for the impact—
september first nineteen fifty-seven
Early morning, the first day of September. Clete was in a single bedroom in the Post Op Care ward at Immaculate Heart, getting his gunshot wounds dressed by a pretty young nurse and staring out the window, where the sun was shining on the stand of royal palms that lined the long entrance drive to the hospital.
Mary Alice was gone, and Declan hadn’t come to see him yet, although Helen and Frank Forrest had been in the day before. There was a stone on his heart and he knew it would always be there.
He was suspended with pay while the investigation into what had happened at the Vizzini compound worked its way through the system. The death of Beau Short and the disappearance of Annabelle Fontaine after the shootout in Room 1408 of the Alcazar was wrapped up in that too.
There was still no sign of Aurelia DiSantis, the woman who had shot and killed Beau Short. Clete suspected they would never find her.
At least not in this time zone.
He knew, or hoped he knew, where Jack had gone to, and he was pretty sure that, wherever he was, he had done—or would do—something pretty final to that creature.
He also suspected that, wherever he was, Annabelle Fontaine was with him. Or maybe he had managed to get his wife and kids back. One way or another, it was out of his hands. The nurse finished with the bandages, pulled the coverlet up around his chest and asked him if there was anything she could get for him.
“I could use a boilermaker,” he said, and she smiled down at him, the sunlight making an aura around her, so that she looked like a visiting angel.
“I’ll get you an orange juice. By the way, while you were asleep, there was a police officer here. He left something for you on your side table.”
She picked it up and handed it to him. It was a large brown envelope with something inside it.
“Thanks,” he said.
And she said, “You’re welcome, Clete,” and slipped silently out of the room.
Clete opened the envelope. There was a brief note:
Clete...Crime Scene guys found this on the floor of the hotel room where Beau Short got shot. Since you’re still the detective of record on the Aurelia DiSantis thing, we figured you’d want to have it.
No idea what it means. Get better soon, and between you and me, what you gave the Vizzini Family was long overdue.
All the best, and get back out here soon. We need you.
Mike Bukovac
Clete tipped the envelope up, and a gold locket fell out onto the coverlet.
He picked it up, turned it in the light, held it close and read the inscription.
“‘To Bea from Will...Xmas 1909.’”
He had no idea what it meant either, but he suspected there was a story in it somewhere. He decided to put it in his file on the DiSantis case.
Maybe someday it would turn out to be important. You never knew about these things. He closed his eyes, wished the best for Jack, wherever he was, and drifted into sleep with the locket in the palm of his right hand.
the beach house
When Jack got back to the beach house, Pandora was sitting quietly on the couch.
The dead men had never happened, the raid had never happened, and Pandora was not dead.
Pandora smiled at him.
“So. Jack. You’re finally back.”
“So I am.”
“What were you doing?”
“Looking for Selena D’Arcy.”
“Did you find her?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
“On the bridge at Matanzas Inlet.”
“Was it Christmas Eve?”
“Yes.”
“Were you able to stop the accident?”
“Yes.”
Pandora’s face grew solemn, seeing the loss that was about to come upon her. Jack would have his wife and child back, and she would lose him forever.
“So Barbara is alive? And Katy?”
“Yes. They are.”
“Oh, Jack...how wonderful? Where is she?”
Jack was quiet for a while. And then he told her that Barbara hadn’t recognized him, that she was alive, but the world had changed.
“How? How can it change?”
“I think, when we travel, we make a different world. This one is just a little different from the one we left.”
“But Barbara is still your wife?”
“No. She’s someone’s wife. Just not mine.”
A long silence.
“But, Jack, if it’s true, that’s terrible.”
“Yes. It is.”
“You can’t let that stand. You have to do something.”
“I know.”
“So what can you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Why not?”
He was silent for a very long time. She let him be silent.
“When I was back there...”
“Back where?”
“Back in...back in your time.”
“Yes.”
“There were things I couldn’t control. My badge, my gun...even how I dressed. It was as if there was...someone...making the Rules.”
“The Rules?”
“Yes. The Rules about what could and couldn’t happen in time.”
She took that in. “A Rule Maker?”
“Yes. That’s what it felt like.”
“You don’t really think there’s someone in charge of...all of this, do you?”
He smiled. “No. But maybe there used to be. Like we were an ant farm or something, and that power set up the ant farm Rules, and then it lost interest, and it wandered away, other worlds, better worlds, to attend to, but the Rules still applied back here, like the glass walls on an ant farm box.”
“So, not to put too fine a point on it, you have just reduced the entire sweep of our ideas of justice and truth and the value of the human soul from Hammurabi to Plato to Thomas Aquinas down to an ant farm analogy. Yes?”
He smiled and looked at her. “Looks like it.”
“Which means?”
“Which means that if Selena was going to be stopped, a price had to be paid.”
“And Barbara and Katy were the price?”
A very long silence, so long that they both realized they were not breathing at all.
“Yes. I think so. They’re still alive. They just don’t belong to me anymore.”