Scent of the Roses, page 42
“Oh. Yeah. That’ll happen,” he scoffed. “But you’re right about one thing, Lucy. We are leaving. All of us. Now, get moving—both of you.”
He was upset. Angry. Frightened. Scout could sense the panic that gripped him. It rolled off him in waves. A sticky, viscous substance, slimy and dense and oddly familiar. She could almost smell the guilt and desperation that clung to him. She tried to track down the vague sense memory that was tickling the back of her mind, but she was practically in sensory overload, just trying to catalog all the impressions that came at her from every direction. It was irritating. And confusing. And more than a little distracting.
The expanded vision she’d been experiencing ever since she’d first linked minds with Marsha, allowed her to see currents of energy flickering around each of them.
Interesting. Lucy’s anger was neither murky nor dense, but bright and clear, just like last time. Only then, it had been Lisa who had been angry. And Glenn hadn’t really meant to hurt her.
How do I know that? She couldn’t possibly know it, but she did. Just as surely as if she had been there—
She shuddered, hearing that sound again. The sound of a skull striking rock. Lisa’s skull. She saw her body jerk and fall still. Saw her blood as it seeped out onto the ground. And, oh, God, she was going to be sick. She felt his sickness, too. Felt his panic, which then became her panic. Felt his remorse, his horror. His disbelief. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, no. But all the same, once it had—
Once again, the scene unfolded, and she had no choice but to watch—helpless to interfere—as Glenn weighted Lisa’s clothes with rocks and rolled her into the water. No!
While Lisa’s body sank beneath the cold, black surface, Glenn scuffed dirt and leaves over the bloody ground where her head had lain. Just as he was about to throw Lisa’s bag, with all her books and papers into the pond after her, Scout heard the sound of footsteps hurrying along the path from the school. Footsteps coming his way. A flash of red hair through the trees. Ms. Burnett?
A tremor ran through Scout, an echo of the one that had run through Glenn at the time. She tasted his fear, sharp and bitter on her tongue, as he grabbed up the bag and tried to hide among the trees. But beneath the fear there was anger.
This wasn’t my fault; it was Lisa’s. She made me do it! And I’m not gonna go to jail for her mistakes.
He couldn’t let anyone find him there. He knew what he had to do. And Scout knew it, as well. He’d kill again if he had to. Before he’d let anyone find out what he’d done, what he’d become, he’d kill again.
He really didn’t have a choice. It’s not my fault! In order to protect himself, to save himself, he’d have to kill. And kill. And kill again. Until he was safe.
Scout snapped back to the present. They were out of the woods now, heading back across the lawn toward the house. She was startled to see that it was still early in the afternoon and not almost sunset.
Everywhere she looked she saw an endless confusion of flickering energy. It came from everything around her –from the plants in the garden, from the cats prowling restlessly on the patio. And it was fascinating, but she had to force herself to pay attention. Why was Glenn taking them back toward the house? If Marsha saw them coming—
Her head throbbed suddenly, as though it were on the verge of exploding. Awareness flickered within her mind. She looked at Glenn and she knew. Marsha. Oh, God, no…
Ignoring the pain, and the flood of images that poured through her, ignoring the startled look on Lucy’s face, she rounded angrily on Glenn. “She’s not dead.”
He didn’t even ask who she meant. “Yes, she is,” he insisted mulishly. “Damn it, this time she has to be! I thought I’d gotten rid of her once before, when I ran her car off the road. Like I tried to do to you. But the two of you’ve got more lives than a cat.” He shivered violently. “I hate cats.”
Scout shivered as well. Oh, hell yes. She knew exactly what he meant. They were such nasty, evil, creeping beasts. Except … why was she thinking that? She didn’t feel that way about cats, or about anything, really.
But the feelings were there, just the same; lodged somewhere deep inside her.
“What’re you two talking about?” Lucy demanded. “Who’s not dead?”
Scout sensed the rush of anger as it sizzled along Lucy’s nerves, following the path of her fear. She knew she should be glad for it, but this wasn’t the time. The danger to Lucy was suddenly too extreme.
“No one,” Glenn growled at her. “Keep moving.”
Scout could smell the guilt that rose like steam from his skin. She felt a moment of panic as all her senses went on the alert. No. Not now. Not yet. Not here. I can’t…
“I’m not going anywhere, Glenn.” Lucy continued to insist. “Not until you tell me—”
“Marsha, all right? And she is too dead. Now move it, Lucy. Or I swear you’ll be next. I’ll do you right here and—”
“Oh, yeah? Why don’t you, then? You miserable sonofabitch!”
Scout grabbed for her arm. “Hey, Luce. He’s a sonofabitch, for sure,” she soothed. “But, right now, he’s a sonofabitch with a gun. So why don’t we just do what he says, okay?”
Lucy’s eyes narrowed, but Scout was already turning away to deal with the bigger problem. “What’s the plan, Glenn? Where are you taking us?” She was pretty sure she knew, but she needed to hear him say it, anyway. Needed to distract him, keep him talking, get his mind off Lucy and keep it off her—for as long as possible.
“We’re just going for a little drive,” he said, still training a wary eye on Lucy. “That’s all. Out in one of the canyons.”
Just as I thought. Perfect. “It won’t work you know.” Scout was amazed at how unafraid she was, but that was Lucy’s doing. The moment she’d grabbed hold of her arm, Scout had felt Lucy’s anger as it surged through both of them, making everything burn brighter and more clearly, blocking out the other emotions. All the pain and anxiety that still had the power to confuse her. Good. “My car’s not here, and no one is going to believe I kidnapped Lucy if we take her car. Or yours, either, for that matter. So, why don’t we just—”
“Scout, Scout, Scout,” Glenn shook his head at her, a sorry little smile twisting up the corners of his mouth. “I’m way ahead of you, sweetheart. I always was. Of course, your car’s here. I stopped by the garage on my way over and picked it up—just like you asked me to do. I even made sure to mention to the mechanic that you’d said you were gonna take a little trip out of town.”
“You’re leaving?” Lucy turned to frown at her. “When did you—?”
“I didn’t!” Scout snapped. “Obviously.”
Glenn shrugged. “My word against yours. Except you won’t be here to set the record straight. Because right now, like I said, the three of us are going for a drive. And if you don’t cooperate, or if you try anything funny, I’m gonna shoot your friend here, right in the head.”
Well, Scout couldn’t help but laugh at that! She really couldn’t. She knew it wasn’t the time or the place, but oh, dear. Poor Lucy! Scout read the outrage on Lucy’s face, felt it flare to life within her.
“You did say things would end badly,” she couldn’t help but point out. “And now, it sure does look like you were right. Doesn’t it?”
“Oh, go to hell, Scout,” Lucy bristled.
But Scout merely laughed again. “No, thanks. Not just yet.”
She’d been to hell. It was icy cold and left a taste in your mouth like ashes. She wasn’t in any great hurry to get back there. And next time, she definitely wasn’t going there alone. She felt such lovely stinging heat – Lucy’s anger – it warmed her through and through.
“Oh, my God.” Through the heat and the laughter, Scout could hear Lucy’s voice, dripping with disgust. “Scout. Have you always been insane?”
“I don’t think so.” Scout thought about it. Maybe she had been. The amorphous plan forming in her head was almost certainly nothing a sane person would consider. Not unless she’d run out of other options. Which we most definitely have. “But, believe me, I’m working real hard on that angle.”
Nick buried himself in paperwork. Anything to keep his mind off the depressing scene in his kitchen this morning. And the even more depressing prospect that he’d be returning home tonight to an empty apartment. By midafternoon, he felt as if he were making real progress. He could go for a whole ten minutes at a clip without thinking about Scout. Just as long as nothing happened in between times to remind him. He was about three minutes into one of these Halcyon periods when the phone on his desk rang.
“Uh, yeah…” an unfamiliar voice addressed him hesitantly. “This is Mike over at Village Auto Service? You asked me to, uh, you know…to let you know about that car. The one that came in earlier this week?”
Car? It took a moment, but he finally made the connection. This was about Scout’s car. Great. Just what he needed. Another reminder.
“Yeah, Mike. Hi. What’s up?”
“Yeah, well, uh…I guess the lady who dropped it off must be getting ready to leave town, or somethin’? ’Least that’s what the guy who came in and got it said.”
Leaving town? For a moment, Nick’s mind went blank. Then it hit him. Rage exploded in his head. She’s leaving me. Again. Without even saying goodbye. Just like last time…
Well, fine then. Just fine! Fuck it. Let her leave if that’s what she wanted. The sooner the better. See if he cared. Just as well, really. One thing less for him to worry about.
Because as far as he knew no one outside of Oberon had any reason for wanting her dead.
“I would’ve called you sooner,” Mike said, still stumbling a little over his words. “Like you said to, right? Except…well, I guess I was on my break when he picked it up. I only just found out about it. Sorry about that.”
“No, that’s okay, Mike. Not a problem. Thanks.” Nick sighed, ready to hang up the phone and go back to his paperwork. Determined to put it all out of his mind. No reason to be surprised, was there? He’d already figured he’d be going home alone.
He just hadn’t known he’d be this much alone. And, well, it was a surprise, come to think of it. She’d at least seemed committed to hanging around until they managed to track down Robyn. And her sister. And—
Finally, Nick’s brain caught up with his ears. Adrenaline flooded through his system. “Wait! Hold on a minute, Mike. Who’d you say picked up that car?”
“Hey, there Marsha. Time to wake up, girlfriend.” A familiar voice spoke softly in her ear, but Marsha couldn’t see anything through the bright haze that surrounded her. Must be a white-out, she mused, her thoughts as foggy as the scene. Anyway, she didn’t need to see. She’d recognize that voice anywhere.
“Lisa?” But no. That was impossible. It must be this headache that was making her so stupid. Still… “What are you doing here?”
“Uh, no, Marsh. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m afraid it’s the other way around. Again.”
The other way—? “D’you mean that I’m…that I’m dead?” Damn, her head hurt. She couldn’t make sense of anything, except— I can’t be dead. Can I? It seemed unlikely, given the way her head was aching. Why did it have to hurt so much? And where the heck was Scout? She was supposed to be here, wasn’t she? Somewhere?
“Yeah, well. As it happens, we need to talk about that,” Lisa’s voice came out of the haze again. “You dragging Scout back into this shit? Not a good idea, as it turns out. Matter of fact, as far as ideas go – this one sorta sucks.”
“Tell me about it,” Marsha groaned. The fog was beginning to lift a little, or maybe her eyes were just adjusting to the light, she couldn’t be sure. But gradually the scene around her drifted into focus. She could see Lisa – looking not a day over seventeen – as beautiful as ever, still dressed in her school uniform, perched on the edge of a beige metal utility table in the corner of a large, sunny room. Her feet were planted on one of the half-dozen folding chairs that had been pulled up to the table. Her arms rested casually on her knees.
“Hey, there you are,” Lisa said with her usual cool smile. “Yeah, it’s good to see you, too. Why don’t you grab a seat.”
The room looked vaguely familiar. Marsha looked around her curiously. Along one wall, five tall, narrow windows framed a breathtaking view of the Bay. The other walls were covered by a brightly painted mural. The room was sparsely furnished. A couple of vintage sofas, in what looked to be about the same state of disrepair as the one in her office, were clustered in front of a rather large television set. A row of vending machines stood nearby, offering hot and cold drinks, snack foods, candy and cigarettes. A handful of mismatched end tables, two ancient, scarred coffee tables and an eclectic assortment of lamps pretty much rounded out the furnishings.
Marsha sank down on the nearest couch and tried to pin down the location. It was familiar, but she just couldn’t quite— “Lisa, what is this place?”
“Senior lounge,” Lisa muttered, her mouth pursed around the cigarette she was lighting. “More or less.” 1
“Oh, yeah.” Marsha smiled reminiscently, “That’s right. Jeez, I’d forgotten all about that.” Then another thought struck her. “But, uh…why?”
“Ah, you know how it is.” Lisa shrugged. She shook out the match, dropping it into an orange plastic ashtray that Marsha could have sworn had not been on the table a moment earlier, and glanced around the room. “It seemed like a cool idea at the time. I could change it, I suppose, but I’ve kinda gotten used to it, so why bother? Anyway. Getting back to Scout. You really got yourself in over your head on this one, girlfriend. You should have known better than to attempt a chakra link without first checking to make sure she was clear. All that energy should have been neutralized ahead of time!”
“I know.” Marsha nodded, lips twisting into a rueful grimace. She should have thought of that sooner. She should have remembered something so basic. If only Celeste had been there to remind her.
Marsha sank back against the cushions of the couch and closed her eyes. She felt exhausted. Defeated. Weary from her struggle with Scout’s mind, her heart battered by memories of the encounter. Memories of Celeste. Memories of all the other times she’d messed up like this. Will I never learn?
Lisa snorted in amusement. “Now there’s a good question. I wish I had the answer to that, myself. I gotta tell you, we’re looking at a whole lot of negative karma building up out there. This is not a stable situation you’ve created. You guys are gonna be years working this stuff out. And that’s assuming you’ve even got that long because, frankly, things are not looking so good for Scout right now. Or for Lucy either, as a matter of fact. And as for you—”
“Oh, shit,” Marsha sat up again, eyes wide, heart pounding, as the implications hit home. “Lisa…if they’re in trouble, we need to do something. What can we do?”
Lisa frowned. “You know, Marsh, we did talk about this kind of thing the last time you were here. When was that, again?”
“The last time I saw you? That’d be about nineteen, twenty years ago, I think.”
“Bullshit. Blink of an eye. You just gotta get the perspective right.”
“Yeah, well,” Marsha shrugged. “Whatever. I was in a coma at the time if you’ll recall. And besides, a lot’s happened since. You expect me to remember every little thing we talked about back then?”
“Well, if you don’t, then I guess you’d better start paying attention, hadn’t you? You know the drill. There are some entities here who feel you’ve been playing a little fast and loose with the rules again, if you wanna know the truth. They think that, for someone with your abilities, you’ve maybe been getting a little too involved in other people’s business. You do know what I’m getting at, right? Free will and all that shit?”
“Sure, Lisa, I know what you’re saying. But sometimes you just have to help people before they can help themselves.”
“Uh-huh. I believe they call that a rationalization. And that’s not the point. You know better.”
“Maybe.”
“A word to the wise, chica—clean up your act. ’Cause the next time you’re up here, it could very well be the real deal.”
“Fine. I’ll try. Now, what are we gonna do about Lucy and Scout?”
“What makes you think we’re gonna do anything?” Lisa asked peevishly, but Marsha could swear she saw a hint of something very like a smile lurking in her eyes. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said?”
“Yes,” Marsha answered evenly. “I heard you. But something tells me that you haven’t exactly moved on.” She looked around the room again and smiled. “I’d say you’ve still got some pretty strong ties to this lifetime.”
Lisa’s gaze traveled the room as well. She shrugged. “I suppose I have been known to take an interest, every now and again, in what you all are up to. But don’t go getting all optimistic, or anything. You guys have been playing around with some serious shit. There’s always gonna be a price to pay for that. Take it from me.”
She stubbed out her cigarette and jumped off the table. “Now, you’d better get going. I got something I gotta do; and I believe you were about to make a phone call, weren’t you? An important one? You don’t want to put that off.”
Marsha noticed that the light was getting brighter again. The room began to recede into the haze.
“And while you’re at it,” Lisa’s voice continued to echo around her, even though Marsha could no longer see her. “You’d better call someone to come out there and take a look at your head. It seems to be leaking.”
Leaking? Marsha, chuckled sleepily, as the bright haziness faded slowly back to black. Wasn’t that just like Lisa? Always with the lame jokes. But…ouch…she might just have a point about the head thing.
Well, okay, she’d definitely get it checked out. And she’d try to remember about that other phone call she was supposed to be making, as well. The important one. She’d get to it soon. Real soon. Just as soon as she woke up, in fact. Whenever that happened to be. But what was the hurry? After all, time was an illusion. Perhaps an even greater illusion than death, itself.
