Summer, page 14
“Oh, I do,” Daniel said. He poured coffee from the pot into his cup, took a sip, grimaced. Kerry had noticed that he nearly always tasted it, even though he invariably put in sugar afterward. Old habits, she figured. “Believe me, I know how seriously I’ve inconvenienced all of you.”
“But if we get Season,” Kerry put in, “then it’s all worth it. Everything. Even … even Mace.”
She felt Brandy’s gaze burning into her. “You sure you want to go there?”
“I feel terrible about Mace, Brandy, you know I do. But Season is responsible for so many deaths, so much sorrow and loss. If we could stop her, think of everyone we’d be helping. All of her future victims.”
“We’re on board,” Scott assured her. “Doesn’t mean we have to be thrilled about it. But you don’t see any of us turning away, do you?”
“Josh tries to bring a bottle into my car,” Rebecca said, trying to sound hard-boiled, “I’ll turn him away.”
“Yeah, you talk like a tough cookie!” Josh called from behind the closed bathroom door. “We’ll just see how tough you really are when the chips are down.”
Rebecca laughed and blushed, lifting her breakfast dishes from the table and carrying them to the sink. So far, Kerry decided, she was impressed with all of her friends, for even sticking it out this long, and for being willing to go to all this trouble.
The chips, she was pretty sure, had been down for a long time.
The shopping center was wood-sided, painted brown, reasonably busy. It wasn’t much more than a glorified strip mall containing a coffee shop and a bagel shop, a drugstore, office and pet supplies stores, a couple of restaurants, and at one end, a supermarket. But there was enough traffic in and out so no one really noticed that one nondescript Ford Taurus had parked in the slender shade offered by a tree and hadn’t moved for a long time.
Anyone looking into the car, though, might notice that the couple in the front seat was locked in passionate embrace, as often as not.
“Should we really be doing this?” Kerry asked when they broke once. It was midafternoon; they’d been on the stakeout since eight that morning. The windows were half open so the occasional breeze could help cool the car’s interior. They’d taken one break for icecream cones, and a couple of others to replenish their supply of cold bottled water. “The others …”
“We don’t kiss so loudly that we wouldn’t hear the phone,” Daniel assured her. “But if you want to stop …”
“That’s not what I said.” At the moment, she could hardly imagine a more pleasant way to pass the time than sitting and talking with Daniel Blessing, interrupted from time to time by a bout of feverish kissing.
“Tonight,” Daniel announced, somewhat abruptly, “we’ll tell them.”
For a moment Kerry was confused. “Tell them … oh. Tell them. About us.”
“There’s no reason we should have to keep it a secret,” Daniel said. “We’re both adults. You’re young, yes, but you’re as mature a woman as I’ve ever known.”
Kerry felt herself crimsoning. “Thanks. I guess … I guess I had to grow up fast, with my mom and dad in the conditions they were in.”
“You’ve done an admirable job.” He traced a pattern on her knee with his finger. She wore khaki shorts and a red cotton T-shirt, almost the color she figured her face had turned, because in spite of the August heat, they couldn’t run the air-conditioning the whole time they were parked, and his touch was cool, comforting. Somehow Daniel stayed crisp in a white linen shirt with the long sleeves rolled up and faded jeans. “I told you before, I’ve been with a few women over the years.”
She didn’t necessarily like to think about that. “Yeah.”
“But none of them … ever … have meant what you have come to mean to me, Kerry. You …”
He paused, and she waited for him to finish his sentence. He worked his jaw, she could see the little worm of a scar under it twitch, but nothing came out.
Finally she decided to take him off the hook, finally allowing herself to say what she’d been holding inside, not even certain of her own feelings until just this moment. “I can’t say I’ve been with a lot of guys,” she said. “And obviously never with an age difference like we have. But I think I feel the same way. Like there’s something about you that I just respond to, that I’m at ease with. It’s hard to remember when you weren’t in my life, and hard to imagine a future without you in it.” She laughed, suddenly even more nervous than she’d expected. Whenever she’d had this kind of conversation in her head, growing up, it had all flowed so easily. “God, isn’t this the kind of talk we should be having six months from now, maybe? I’m so bad at this I don’t even know what the timing is supposed to be like.”
“It’s supposed to be whatever feels right,” Daniel said, squeezing her leg. “And this does.”
“So tonight?” Kerry asked, aware that maybe she was, once again, about to push too hard. “When we tell them? Do you think maybe we can get Rebecca and Josh to share a room?”
Daniel smiled at her, obviously pleased by the suggestion. “It’s worth a try,” he said. He leaned toward her, drawing her closer with subtle pressure on her leg, and their lips were almost in contact when his phone chirped at them. He raised an eyebrow in annoyance. “Great timing.”
“It’s not like we haven’t had a chance to kiss today,” Kerry reminded him, biting back her own disappointment. “Or like we won’t have plenty of time later.”
Fishing the phone from his pocket, Daniel pouted. “But I wanted one now.”
Kerry stretched toward him and planted one on his cheek, right where the pillowcrease had been. “There you go,” she said. “
Now answer your phone.”
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” Rebecca pleaded, listening to Daniel’s phone ring.
“Trying to drive here,” Josh said with a growl. He had the wheel of the Civic, and he wore an unpleasant scowl as he tried to maneuver around a Buick that had lurched from an apartment complex’s lot into their way. “You want to put the kibosh on the whining?”
Pick up, pick up, pick up, Rebecca thought anxiously. Josh’s mood was foul enough that she didn’t want to aggravate it any more. But—
“Hello,” Daniel’s voice spoke in her ear.
“We found her!” Rebecca realized she’d shouted it, but didn’t care. She could almost feel Josh’s glare.
“Where are you?”
She glanced at their surroundings. “Heading toward the water, so west, I guess, on Emerald.”
“She’s driving?” Daniel asked.
“Yes. Driving.”
“In what?”
“A car.” Rebecca said, flustered. She’d known a minute ago, but the tension and excitement of the chase were getting to her.
“Forest green Nissan Maxima,” Josh informed her.
She relayed the message, and added, “We were driving down Emerald, and she passed us, going the other way. Josh pulled over, then turned around. She’s a couple of blocks ahead of us.”
“Okay, good job, Rebecca,” Daniel said sharply. “I’m going to alert Brandy and Scott now. I’ll check back in a minute.”
He broke the connection, and Rebecca put the phone in her lap. Two- and three-story apartment buildings flashed past her window; the fronds of tall palms strobed the sunlight that raked across the windshield. Ahead she could see a van and a big black SUV. “Where is she?” she asked Josh. “I don’t see her.”
“Don’t sweat it, I have her,” Josh assured her. “I’m hanging back so she doesn’t make us.” He tossed her a sideways grin. “You act like I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You watch a lot of movies, read some books,” Rebecca countered. She was fully aware that her anxiety was making her edgier than usual, more argumentative. But she had every right to be edgy. They were chasing a killer—and worse, a killer with unknown magical powers. “I’m not sure that makes you a genuine expert on surveillance techniques.”
Josh’s grin turned into an unpleasant sneer. She had always liked Josh, even when the rest of their housemates found him a bit obnoxious. But now that he was in his element—or what he believed was his element, even though he had no particular experience with, or real-life knowledge of, the seamier side of life—he got all bent out of shape when she dared to question his abilities. As if to prove her wrong, he mashed down hard on the accelerator and the car lunged ahead. At the same time he twisted the wheel to the left, swerving into the oncoming traffic lane, which was blessedly empty. He stayed on the gas, pulling ahead of the van, then cutting back into the correct lane. The van s horn bleated, the SUV in the other lane ticked to the side as if worried about being hit. But three blocks ahead of them, just making a right turn, she spotted the green Nissan.
Josh glanced at her, wordlessly triumphant.
18
Brandy flipped the phone open as soon as it rang. “Hey,” she said.
“She’s on the move.” Daniels voice, brittle with anxiety. “On Emerald, headed west. Toward you.”
“Okay,” Brandy answered, not sure what other response was needed. If any. She and Scott were parked on Mission, near Beryl, on the route one would take from Pacific Beach to La Jolla.
“Dark green Nissan Maxima,” Daniel added.
“We’ll watch for her,” Brandy promised.
“Don’t get right behind her,” Daniel warned. “Let her get a few car lengths ahead. Josh and Rebecca will be following too, so you should both take turns pulling up and slipping back. Make sure she doesn’t see the same car in her rearview the whole time.”
“I got it,” Brandy said.
“We’re on the way over. I’ll check back in a few.” Daniel signed off, and she folded the phone. Scott looked at her, curiosity on his face.
“What’s up?”
“Get ready for action, Scott. She’s coming this way.” Brandy repeated the details Daniel had given her. “Let’s not lose her this time,” she said. “I’d sure love to get all this over with.”
Scott nodded as he turned the key in the ignition and gunned the engine. The air inside the car was charged now; the urgency of imminent contact, the anticipation of some kind of conclusion to the summer’s madness striking them both. “That makes two of us.”
A couple of minutes later the phone rang again. “It’s Rebecca,” their housemate’s voice said when Brandy answered. “She’s not coming your way after all. She turned south on Mission, not north.”
“We’re on it,” Brandy acknowledged. She hung up and filled Scott in.
So Season wasn’t heading for La Jolla this time—or to the freeway, at least, not right away. South on Mission would take her through Pacific Beach, and into Mission Beach. But that would become a dead end; eventually she’d have to turn inland, crossing Mission Bay. Then she could go out Point Loma, which would trap her on a long peninsula, or toward downtown and the freeways.
Scott pulled out of the parking place, waited for a break in traffic, and performed an illegal U-turn in the middle of the block. Now he was headed south on Mission, as well. He stomped on the gas and the car shot forward. Traffic was light, but there were cars on the road, and he wove between lanes to get around them. Brandy found herself clutching her seat, trying not to show fear. They’d have to live through the chase if they would ever get a chance to die at Season’s hands, she knew.
Of course, there was the other option, too—the one where they defeated Season and ended the summer in triumph. She hadn’t been willing to give much consideration to that scenario, unwilling to get her hopes up. Life, she had found, was somewhat less disappointing if she didn’t expect too much out of it to begin with. Allowing herself to imagine that she’d be some kind of hero, would help save the world—okay, not the world, she thought, but at least lives, someone’s world—had been too ambitious for her to even consider.
Now, though, she couldn’t help it. She had the sense that some kind of conclusion was coming, some ultimate confrontation. Either they’d walk away from it or Season would, but no way would the status quo be unchanged at the end.
So she hung on and let Scott drive, silently watching the road ahead, his hands tight on the wheel. A trickle of sweat ran down the side of his face, dripping from beneath the temple-piece of his glasses. Brandy worried a little about him, about how he’d deal with this whole thing. He was a smart guy, and she loved him, really loved him like no other boyfriend she’d had. But confrontation wasn’t his forte. He was smart but not strong, not in the physical sense, although he was no weakling, either—no Mace, but no Josh, either, and soccer had given him great legs—but in the emotional sense. When life battered him around, he didn’t bounce back easily. Even something as seemingly minor as a disagreement in traffic—someone cutting him off or flipping him off—unsettled him for at least a day.
She’d been pleasantly surprised, so far, about how well he’d handled all this, with Daniel and Mace and everything. When things turned really bad, he seemed able to rise to meet the challenges. But she couldn’t help wondering when he’d reach his breaking point, when it would all just be too much for him. Judging from the expression on his face now—lips clamped together, eyes wide, jaw as tight as a violin string—that time just might be close. She’d have to keep an eye on him.
“There’s Josh and Beck,” he said a few minutes later. Brandy saw them too, in the rented Civic they drove.
“We should pass them,” she said. “So when she looks in her mirror—”
“I know,” Scott interrupted. Brandy had already explained the theory, when reporting what Daniel had told her. She guessed the stress was getting to her too.
“I know, sorry.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Anyway, that’s what I’m doing.” He pulled even with the other car, and Brandy waved at Josh and Rebecca. Josh made an ushering gesture with his hand, indicating that they should pull ahead. He had an unlit cigarette clamped between his teeth. Rebecca wouldn’t let him smoke while she was in the car, but it looked like he’d been chewing on it. Brandy thought she could see flecks of tobacco on his chin.
Brandy and Scott pulled ahead, though, and all her attention was on the dark green sedan a block or so ahead of them, with only a driver inside.
“That’s got to be her,” Scott said.
“Yeah,” Brandy agreed softly, more nervous than ever now that Season was in view again. This time there would be no losing her, she determined. This time it would all play out to the end. One way or another.
Suddenly every vehicle in San Diego was in Pacific Beach, either stuck in traffic on Garnet or trying to cross it. That was how it seemed to Kerry, anyway. She drove Daniel’s car. He had his hands full with his cell, trying to coordinate the movements of three different vehicles, all in pursuit of a fourth, and he’d spread a city map on his lap. He tried to anticipate where Season might be headed, based on where she was. Kerry knew that was a fool’s game—Season had proven her unpredictability plenty of times in the past, and could as easily turn around and head right back where she’d come from as continue on any given path. But she didn’t bother to share her opinion with Daniel, who, after all, knew his enemy far better than she did.
Ahead, the traffic light turned green, and she started inching forward even before the car in front of her had moved. But three cars in front of that, a pick-up truck with surfboards spiking from the bed was trying to turn left, and sat at the light waiting for a break in the oncoming traffic. By the time the truck had passed through the light, it was turning yellow again, then red. She had moved up all of one space.
“She’s not doing this, is she?” Kerry asked, only half-joking.
“What, manipulating the traffic? No, I think that’s beyond even her abilities,” Daniel replied. “That s the problem with traffic, it can’t be controlled. Too much human element. It’s barely contained chaos. Almost makes one long for the days of traffic cops, standing in the streets directing the flow.”
“Or horses and buggies?” Kerry teased.
“Say what you will,” Daniel said. “There were definite advantages. Quieter, safer, less polluting. The world has given up a lot in the name of progress.”
“But we don’t have to worry about stepping in horse manure when we cross the street,” Kerry pointed out.
“That’s true. Then, though, you didn’t have to worry about global climate change or growing holes in the ozone layer. You didn’t have to worry that you were breathing in carcinogens every day. And that’s without even bringing nuclear arms or biological weapons into the equation. Life is easier now, in many ways, and safer in some. But in others, the world has gone completely, screamingly insane.”
The light changed again, and Daniel fell silent as Kerry silently urged the cars in front of her to just go straight already. And it worked. This time, she made it through the light. Ahead, Garnet had the undisputed right of way for several blocks, so it was relatively clear sailing.
“Do you really think that?” she asked after awhile. “That the world is insane?”
Daniel considered the question for a long moment. “In some ways, I said. And the answer is, yes, I do. Certainly, there have been remarkable improvements, amazing technological advances. We’ve essentially beaten the worst diseases of history—plague, polio, whooping cough, and so on. We can vaccinate against measles and chicken pox. These things used to cripple and kill, and now they’re merely inconvenient, if that. But we’ve also changed the world in ways we don’t even understand, so that we have to deal with new cancers, with Ebola, with AIDS, with SARS. We’ve poisoned the air and water. We build nuclear power plants that have the potential to kill tens of thousands if something goes wrong. In many ways, large and small, from the individual to the corporation to government, we keep inventing new ways to kill, new ways to tyrannize, new ways to destroy people’s lives.” He chuckled dryly “I’m sorry, Kerry, I don’t mean to pontificate.”
“That’s okay,” she said. Listening to him talk helped her cope with the frustrations of the traffic.
