by G. R. Lyons
“Race you upstairs,” he teased.
She raised an eyebrow at him, then jumped out of the car, running for the elevator while Charlie was still just trying to get his restraint undone. He locked the car and caught up to her just as the elevator doors opened, and they ducked inside, turning to watch the rain splatter on the glass wall of the backside of the elevator car as the doors shut and it began its ascent.
“Looks like we're in for a hell of a storm,” he murmured, nodding toward the horizon.
Saira nodded, resting her hands on the glass as she looked out.
“Guess that puts a damper on things,” he added.
“No, it's nice, actually,” Saira said, turning to him with a smile. “Being confined indoors all the time when it's sunny out is no fun. But when it's raining–” She waved at the view beyond the glass. “Nothing like staying in, all bundled up, with ice cream and a movie.”
Charlie grinned at her. “Then that's what we'll do. Come on.”
The elevator stopped, and they raced down the hall, laughing and pushing one another like they used to do as teenagers. They ducked inside the apartment and shut the door, stopping to catch their breaths while they were still bent over with laughter.
Charlie straightened up and glanced around the apartment.
“I've got an idea,” he said with a grin, taking the ice cream to the kitchen and tucking it into the freezer.
“What's that?”
He turned around and put his hands on her shoulders, saying, “I want to do something stupid and childish. Why don't you go take a nice long, hot shower, then get all bundled up in your pajamas, and I'm going to work on something while you're in there.”
“You…don't want to join me?” she asked.
Charlie hesitated, looking at her, and asked, “Do you want me to join you?”
She started to nod, then bit her lip and looked away.
“Alright, how about this?” he murmured. “Just a shower. A few minutes to relax. But then you're going to have to hang out in the washroom while I get something set up.”
Saira nodded, her smile returning.
“Go on, go grab something comfortable,” he said, steering her toward the bedroom. “Fuzzy socks and all.”
She looked back at him with a grin and headed for the closet while he turned back to face the living room. He shrugged off his jacket and set aside his holster, glancing over the sparse furnishings and making a mental list of everything he was going to need.
Charlie joined Saira in the shower, making an effort to keep his hands to himself while they moved around one another, playfully squirting each other with soap or pushing the showerhead out of the way.
Charlie grabbed a razor and held it out of her reach, laughing as she tried to swipe it out of his hand.
“Gods, I'm glad you're not as tall as your father,” he joked.
Laughing, Saira reached for the razor again, and Charlie dropped it. He grabbed her by the waist and spun her around, trading places with her before she could stop him. He dove for the razor, hearing Saira's laughing yelp behind him, then lurched to a stop as the razor came to rest in an inch of water.
His hand froze, just a few inches away, and his breath caught in his throat as he watched the water back up from the drain.
“Charlie? Charlie, what's wrong?”
He dropped to his knees, wrenching the cover from the drain and digging his fingers into it, trying to find whatever was blocking the flow of water.
“Charlie, what's the matter?”
He dug again, finally dislodging something and panting as he watched the water drain away.
“Honey?” Saira asked, dropping to a crouch behind him and hugging him back to her chest while the shower beat down on their heads.
He shook his head, trying to catch his breath. “Standing water. I just…Fuck.”
Saira tightened her hold on him while he hung his head in his hands.
“I'm sorry,” he murmured.
Saira pulled on his shoulders so that he turned around to face her, and she shook her head. She opened her mouth to say something, then bit her lip, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his.
Without a word, they threw their arms around one another, crouched there, still and silent for a long while.
“We'll be alright,” he murmured once he thought he could speak again, and pulled her closer against him. “You're alive. We'll be alright.”
He felt Saira nod against his shoulder. “I guess neither of us ever thought about what the other went through. Gods, Charlie, I'm so sorry.”
Charlie rubbed her back, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths while he tried to push the nightmare images out of his mind. He helped Saira up, and they finished the shower in silence, Charlie studiously ignoring the bottom of the tub even though the water wasn't backing up anymore.
“It's too late to hide, isn't it?” Saira asked, rubbing a towel over her arms.
“What's that?”
She frowned and tucked the towel snugly around her body.
“I just…” she said, “I just wonder if I should have kept hidden. Stayed anonymous. At least until we had a little more time to mentally deal with all this. Maybe we could have avoided him forever.”
Charlie wrapped a towel around his waist and took a deep breath, then turned to face her and put on a smile as he rested his hands on her shoulders. “You said you needed this. And if drawing him out is what it takes to get all this behind us…then maybe it's worth the risk.”
Saira frowned and rested her forehead against his. “I hate to make you worry.”
Charlie barked a laugh. “You're my wife. Psychotic murderer on the loose or not, I'm always going to worry about you. Just wait 'til we have kids. Then I'll be a constant nervous wreck.”
She gave him a strange look and turned away, grabbing a toiletry bag and dragging it toward herself.
“Hey,” he murmured, hugging her from behind. “I didn't mean–”
“I know.” She looked up in the mirror and gave him a flicker of a smile. “I just–”
“I know how much being a mother has always meant to you. That was all part of the plan, remember?”
She nodded, pushing aside her bag and leaning against him.
“Let's hide out for a while,” she murmured. “Just disappear, run away.”
“Saira, honey.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around. “Don't change your mind for me. Do it for you if you need, but don't do it for my sake.”
“Charlie–”
“And besides,” he interrupted her, “we've got some rainy day ice cream and movies to get to, remember? So let's just forget about all this for a while, alright?”
Saira took a deep breath, looking skeptical, but nodded.
“Alright. You get dressed—and take your time! I'll let you know when I'm ready.”
She turned back to the mirror, and Charlie darted from the washroom, hurrying to dress in the bedroom and then gathering up every pillow and blanket he could find.
* * *
SAIRA CREPT out of the washroom while Charlie covered her eyes with his hands.
“What are you up to?” she asked.
“Hush,” he said with a laugh. They took a few more steps and stopped, and he lowered his hands. “Alright, take a look.”
She opened her eyes and stared for a moment before she threw her head back and laughed. Charlie had taken the old-fashioned modular couch and moved the pieces around so they formed almost a complete, enclosed square, then stretched sheets over the whole thing so it made a sort of low, flat tent.
“What is this?” she asked, laughing.
“Our own private hideout,” he said, lifting one corner of the sheet where the sofa pieces didn't connect, allowing a space to crawl in. “Disappear from the world for a few hours.”
“You are silly.”
“Go on,” he nodded with a smile. “Get in. Ice cream's melting.”
Shaking her head, Saira tighten
ed the sash on her robe and got down on her hands and knees, crawling into the space. In the midst of the sofa pieces, a pile of pillows and blankets covered the floor, and a tablet displaying a choice of movies rested on one side while a tray with ice cream and spoons rested on the other.
Charlie crawled in behind her and lowered the sheet. “So? What do you think?”
Saira opened her mouth to say something about it being silly and childish, but she paused a moment while she looked around, tucked into a space that was just high enough for her to sit up straight and just wide enough for them to lie down side by side. Beyond the sheets and furniture, the rest of the world suddenly didn't matter.
“This is perfect. Thank you.”
Charlie grinned at her and reached over for a container of ice cream, tearing the lid off the pint and handing it to her.
“Did you ever do this as a kid?”
“Gods, no!” she laughed. “With my dad? Are you kidding?”
“Ah, good point. I used to do this all the time. Make forts in my room out of anything I could get my hands on. My mom would find me curled up, fast asleep, in the middle of the night, surrounded by all manner of makeshift toys.” He paused, chuckling. “Hey! We could do that. Get some toys. Come in here and play like little kids. What do you think? Board games, cards, dolls– No! Connecting blocks. Something with order and instructions involved.”
Saira raised an eyebrow at him. “Do men even follow instructions?”
He grinned at her. “I'm only thinking of you.”
“You are so–”
She swayed and reached out for him, gasping as a vision took over. She felt him take her hand and shift closer, murmuring, “Easy there. It's alright.”
Saira trembled, trying to remember how she got through the visions before her amnesia. She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax rather than tensing up and cringing against the vision, letting it flow into her awareness, and felt a glimmer of control as she analyzed what came to her.
“Middle-aged man,” she whispered, her voice almost sounding normal. “He's so afraid…”
“I'll call it in,” Charlie said, reaching for his mobile.
“No, wait.” She grabbed his hand, amazed that she could do so, and closed her eyes. “He's alone. He's afraid of being found. He's– Oh, gods.”
She flinched back, the sound of a gunshot filling her mind, followed by complete and utter silence.
“Saira? Honey?”
Saira blinked, Charlie's face coming into focus before her. He stared at her with wide eyes, firmly gripping her shoulders as he held his breath.
“He's gone,” she whispered.
“Let me call it in–”
She shook her head. “I didn't get a full ID. And besides, it's not criminal.”
“What? Why? What happened?”
Saira met his eyes. “He shot himself.”
Charlie's hands fell to his sides.
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“You alright?”
Saira nodded. “Gods, I'm probably a mess though.”
She ran her hands over her head, feeling for phantom blood, but her fingers came away clean.
“Looks like you've got it back under control,” Charlie murmured, taking her hands in his, and she nodded again.
They fell silent, staring at one another, and both of them jumped as a peal of thunder crashed outside.
* * *
CHARLIE LOOKED out the window in the chief's office, watching the rain strike the glass in sheets. The storm had waxed and waned all night and on through the day, looking like it would only get worse as the Fathers' suns went down, leaving the outdoors almost pitch black beyond the street lights in the early evening.
“Well, there's not much more we can get done today,” the chief said with a sigh, tossing aside a report. “Why don't you go on home and change, and then we'll head over to the theater?”
“Saira's going with you, right?” Charlie asked.
Chief nodded, gesturing at the office down the balcony. “She's getting ready now. I just want to run by the florist real quick, and then we'll come pick you up.”
“Florist?” Charlie asked, grabbing his coat.
The chief shrugged, chuckling. “Vorena pointed out that I've never gotten her flowers before, so…”
“You're getting flowers for– Never mind.” Charlie zipped up his coat and headed out. “See you soon.”
The chief nodded and pulled a dry cleaner's garment bag out of a closet while Charlie turned away and shut the door. He peeked into the S.P.I.R.I.T. Division room, heard the shower running, and shut the door again, bounding down the stairs and hurrying out to his rented car.
The drive home was slow going, even with autopilot sensing the roads and other approaching cars. The rain sheeted down all around him, making it impossible to see much of anything in any direction, and cut off abruptly when the car pulled into the parking garage.
Charlie hurried up to his apartment and tossed aside his jacket, loosening his tie as he headed for the bedroom to grab his dress suit. He pulled it out of the closet, looped the hanger up over the open bedroom door, and froze.
He blinked, holding his breath, and took three steps backwards out of the bedroom, retracing his steps as he turned his attention to something on the small dining table that hadn't been there when he and Saira had left that morning.
A vase of flowers stood in all its garish mockery in the center of the table, two pink roses surrounded by a mess of sunflowers, pansies, and baby's breath.
Charlie whipped out his gun and spun around, his eyes darting from corner to corner as he surveyed the room. He took a step to the right, giving himself a better view of the kitchen, then swung around and aimed into the bedroom and the washroom.
He checked again, looking at every corner, under every piece of furniture, and even inside the closet, but nowhere did he see any signs of another person.
Keeping his gun in one hand, he pulled out his mobile with the other and pressed a button to dial Saira's number.
“Hey, honey–”
“Where are you?” he cut her off.
“I'm still at the agency,” she said. “Just finished dressing. Why, what's wrong?”
“Where's Dad?”
“In his office. He just knocked a minute ago to see how I was–”
“Saira, I want you to go to his office right now. Right now, do you hear me?”
“Charlie what's–”
“Please.”
“Alright, alright. Hold on.”
Charlie heard the sound of a door opening and shutting, and then a delay before he heard another, followed by Benash's voice asking, “All ready?”
“Hang on, Dad. Charlie, what's wrong?”
“Do not leave his side, alright?” he said, scanning the apartment again.
“Alright but…Charlie, what's going on?”
“Just stay with him, alright? Please, honey. I'm gonna get changed now. You two heading over soon?”
“Yeah, we're just about to leave.”
Charlie looked around one more time, certain that there was no one else there, and lowered his gun. “See you soon. Saira, honey, I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
He clicked off the call and set his phone aside, going to the door and making sure the lock was in place, and set the alarm for nighttime security. Checking the bedroom one more time, Charlie hurried out of his clothes and took a quick shower, then dressed in his suit and paced from room to room, checking the time and calculating how long it would take for Benash and Saira to get there.
“Just breathe, man,” he told himself. “It's alright. There's no one here.”
Charlie sat down on the couch, shoving aside a stack of blankets that hadn't been put away that morning, and took a few deep breaths.
After a moment, he got up, yanked off his jacket and strapped on his shoulder holster, checking to make sure both guns were loaded before pulling his jacket bac
k on and smoothing it down.
Feeling more at ease, being armed, he sat again and checked the time, then picked up a magazine and looked for a brief distraction.
He'd just gotten settled in and comfortable when he heard the distinct sound of footsteps coming to a stop right outside his door.
Chapter 28
SAIRA SQUINTED out the windscreen as her father pulled into a covered parking space in front of a line of small shops.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“New florist shop,” her father answered. “Just opened a few days ago.”
She looked over at him and laughed. “Always have to try everything new, don't you?”
He smiled at her. “Keeps things interesting.”
“Hmmm. I'd say we've had just about enough 'interesting' to last a lifetime.”
His smile faded, so she took his hand.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to–”
“It's alright,” he said, clasping her hand between both of his own. “Come on.” He gave her hand a squeeze, and they both slipped out of the car, eyeing the storm behind them as they approached the shop door.
Saira took a deep breath, savoring the fresh, floral scent of the warm shop once the door shut out the chill and hiss of rain. She followed her father around the shop, stopping to admire baskets of house plants and racks of seed packages for growing vegetable gardens.
“So what kind of flowers does one get for a ghost?” she jokingly whispered.
“I haven't the slightest idea,” her father answered, chuckling.
“Maybe you should ask her.” She glanced around, looking for any sign of Vorena. “She's probably here, watching us.”
“Boo,” Vorena murmured, popping up right next to them. Saira jumped back, and the ghost laughed. “Those are pretty,” she said in an off-hand way, pointing at a vase of carnations with a lily and snapdragons and other flowers Saira couldn't name.
Saira turned to face her, but the ghost had disappeared.
Her father shook his head. “That woman.”
“Was she always like this?” Saira asked.
