A Perfect Darkness (20 page)

Petra leaned against the door. “There were a few moments there when I didn't think we were going to make it.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You, too?”

“You think I'm brave all the time? I'm scared a lot. I just don't let myself get walloped by fear.”

Petra smiled at Amy's candor. “I didn't want to like you.”

She grinned back. “I know.”

Petra laughed. “I'm glad you're on our team.”

“Thanks.”

They sank into silence, both lost in thought.

She'd been scared, all right, but she'd done it, Petra realized. She wasn't the pretty, helpless girl that she always felt like. She glanced behind them, then turned back to the front. There was no looking back now. They could only look forward. If only she knew what lay ahead.

“Y
ou are both idiots! I can't believe you took such a stupid risk,” Eric bellowed as soon as they walked into the main room. He grabbed one of their arms in each hand and squeezed so hard Amy yelped in pain.

She tried to pull free. “They didn't know about the car.”

Petra was right, Amy realized: he hadn't thought she would go on her own to get it. And Eric certainly didn't think Petra would go with her.

He gritted his teeth. “Do you think this is a game?”

Petra trembled, her eyes wide. “Of course not!”

Amy was willing to bet she'd seen him like this before. Again she tried to pull away from Eric's grip, but he held on tight. “Let me go—you're hurting me.”

He leaned down into her face. “Good. You need some sense hurt into you. You could have gotten yourself killed. Or even worse, caught.”

Amy shivered, thinking of Lucas. “Every hour that goes by increases the chance that we lose Lucas forever.”

He flung both their arms free in disgust. “Don't let your desperation and your emotions make you stupid. I'm in charge of our little operation, understand?”

“Why you?” Amy asked. Not that she was challenging him, but she didn't like that he'd made the assumption.

“Because I'm—”

“Please don't say ‘a man,'” Amy said, her hand out to stop him.

“First of all, someone has to be in charge. Are either of you volunteering?” He didn't give them a chance to respond. “I'm the one who figured out that we were being watched in the first place. I've got the strongest ability. And”—he leaned down into her face—
“I'm the man.”

“Argh.”
She turned away, shaking her head.

“And you almost got caught,” he went on. “Do you see a pattern? Lucas goes against our protocol and gets caught? You run off by yourselves and almost get caught?”

Petra said, “We would have been fine if they didn't have someone remote viewing us.”

“Yeah, what'd you mean by that?”

“I felt him, just like I can feel you. Then we had a tail, this creepy guy with dark eyes and a gun.”

“And handcuffs,” Amy added. “He's trouble. And not one of us.”

“How do you—”

“No glow.”

Having spent his rage, Eric dropped down onto the couch. His expression, and arms-crossed posture, still radiated anger. Then he saw Amy, really saw her. “Whoa. What happened to you?”

She scanned herself. Had she been cut? Nope, no
blood anywhere. Her dress was torn, and it and she were filthy. “I had to run through the woods.”

“I don't mean the dirt, I mean the dress. The hair, makeup.”

She didn't like the spark in Eric's eyes as he took her in. She tugged down the short skirt. “Petra's idea. So I didn't look like frumpy ol' me.”
Had
she been hiding under her clothing?

“Interesting.”

“Not really.” She had the urge to change but didn't want him to think he could affect her behavior. She averted her gaze to the Warhol-like sun painting.

“Lucas came to me,” Eric said.

Amy spun around. “What?”

“In my dreams. He warned me that you were in danger, said you were driving his car.”

She began to pace, agitated and restless. “We have to find him…now.”

“I'll try remote viewing him again tonight, when I'm rested. Maybe the lights will be on.”

Amy rubbed her arms. “But they have someone who knows when you're there. He'll just kick you out again. And now they can view us.”

Petra said, “I'll stay on alert. I think I was able to push him out like he pushed you out, Eric.”

Amy said, “We have to
do
something.”

Petra looked at her. “What about the voices?”

Eric narrowed his eyes. “Voices?”

“She hears voices. Maybe it's another ability.”

He got to his feet. “Tell me about the voices.”

Amy said, “I don't even know if it's an—”

“What voices? As you said, we don't know what we're capable of. We can't dismiss anything.”

The fear she always felt about the voices crept down her spine. “I hear people whispering. It never makes much sense, but then again, I don't really pay attention to what they're saying. It's spooky. Then I fall into sleep and they go away. It only happens when I'm between wakefulness and REM sleep.”

“Who could it be?”

“I don't know. I hear both women's and men's voices. For a while I thought it was someone in the apartment next to me. Then they moved and I still heard them. And last night someone called my name.”

“Lucas?”

“No, he can only visit me when I'm in REM sleep.”

“Talk to the voices, Amy. Let them in.” He ran his hand back through his red hair in frustration. “We don't have a lot of options.”

She shivered. “I'll do anything I have to do.”

Petra was staring at the sailing painting. She climbed on the couch and took it down. “Voices can't hurt you.”

“I don't trust anything anymore. Look what Eric can do.”

Petra shivered. “Sorry I mentioned it.” She removed the sun painting and hung the sailing one in its place.

Eric rolled his eyes. “There she goes again.”

“I need change.” She regarded the violet wall. “Maybe I'll paint this wall a deep red.”

Amy steeled herself for Eric's objection when she said, “I have to get my parrot.”

“Say what?”

“I have a cockatoo, and he doesn't like anyone but me. My friend Ozzie is taking care of him, but he screeches and makes a ruckus because I'm not there.”

Petra added, “His name is Orn'ry.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “And this is supposed to warm me to the idea? Uh, no. No pets in here. We've got enough to deal with.”

“I'm getting my bird.”

Eric gestured to the room. “Whose place is this, anyway?”

“Lucas's, technically,” Amy said. “Look, I can't leave my parrot behind. Ozzie won't be able to keep him and he'll have a hard time finding him a home. Parrots bond to their owners forever. I can't leave him to be euthanized or sold to bird breeders.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I'm too tired to argue about it right now. I'm going to lie down. Maybe I'll hear the voices.”

She closed herself in her room and slipped into another of Lucas's shirts. It didn't have his scent, only fabric softener. Still, wearing it made her feel closer to him.

Someone knocked and Petra peered around the door as she opened it. “You want me to stay here while you sleep?”

No, she wanted to be strong and not need anyone. So why had she nodded?

Petra closed the door and sat in the chair. “You're scared of the voices.”

It wasn't a question, and she couldn't make the effort lying would take. “Seeing glows never scared me because I was used to them by the time I realized they weren't normal. But the voices…they started a year ago, and I know they're not normal. I don't know what I'm letting in.”

Petra nodded, understanding and yet not. “If what
Cyrus said is true, none of us knows what we're capable of. That's scary. I don't know what I'd do if I started hearing voices or seeing things that weren't there.” Her gaze went to Amy's collarbone, and she got up and walked over. It wasn't until Amy felt her tug gently on the necklace that she understood what Petra had seen. “Lucas's necklace.”

“He lost it at my apartment when they…when they got him.”

Pain crossed Petra's face at that thought, but it lessened when she looked at the cross. “This was his mom's. She was always afraid of things. Of evil. She bought him a necklace when he was just a baby. It was lost when our house burnt down, when we were in high school. His mother's necklace was in a fire-safe box with all of our important papers. Now he wears hers.” She bit her lip. “Wore it.”

Amy unclasped the necklace and handed it to Petra. Her voice was tight when she said, “Take it. If you hadn't come back for me, you might still have his car.”

Petra wrapped her fingers around the cross even as Amy's fingers involuntarily tightened. But she didn't pull it out of Amy's grasp. With a sigh, she released it. “He loves you. It should be yours.”

Amy met her eyes, seeing pain but also acceptance, and smiled. “You're all right.”

Petra smiled, too. “So are you.”

Did Lucas love her? Amy wondered. Look what he had done for her all these years. How he made love to her. She'd always felt unlovable, inadequate. But she was lovable. She was enough for Lucas.

She put the necklace back on, breathing an inward sigh of relief that she didn't have to part with it, then
pulled the covers over her. “You can leave when I'm in REM. When my eyeballs start twitching and stuff.” When Petra nodded, she said, “Thanks,” and rolled onto her back. A minute later she heard soft popping sounds. Opening her eyes, she saw Petra slouched in the chair, cracking her knuckles.

“Oh, sorry. Nervous habit.” Petra tucked her hands beneath her thighs.

Amy closed her eyes again and let fatigue sweep her into darkness.

Memories crowded into her mind: images of running from Buick, the fear, hiding in the truck. Then nonsensical thoughts floated through. That was when the voices started, when her mind was open…vulnerable. She heard the whispers and felt her instinctual urge to push them back. Her body stiffened, but not her mind.

Several voices spoke:

I don't want…

She's not going to……climbing up the sheer wall…

Most didn't make any sense. She waited for her name.

Amy.
A man.

She fought her urge to shut them out.
Yes.

Thank God. It's Cyrus.

That almost knocked her right out of her state.
Cyrus! Are you…

Dead.
His words came in pieces, the way Lucas came in when he was fighting the drugs.
…you're…channel…how Lucas connects…

Other voices tried to intrude. One carried an ominous feeling:
Kill you…

Cyrus! I've got the car. Thank you.
Was she actually talking to the dead? To Cyrus? She had so many questions, about her father, about who she was. But there was only one she had to have the answer to right now:
Please tell me where Lucas is.

Don't…

I know you don't understand, but I have to rescue him.

Silence for a few moments. Had she lost him? Then:
Old insane asylum…not far…

She took the tumble from a hypnagogic to a dreamless state. She had no control over that transition. She floated in some kind of void filled with swirling blue smoke. Before she could steep in frustration over losing her connection with Cyrus, she heard her name again. She knew that voice, and her heart rate jumped as she turned to see Lucas. In a flash he was holding her, kissing her, his hands on her face. “Amy, you're scaring the hell out of me.”

“Ditto,” she said between kisses.

They both parted and said at the same time, “Are you all right?”

He searched her eyes, worry in his. “You're at the bomb shelter.”

She heard the emotion in her voice when she said, “They killed Cyrus. He was trying to warn me to go into hiding and his own people shot him.”

“I'm sorry, love.” He cradled her face, his pain clearly visible on his face.

“Don't blame yourself. I needed to know what was going on. Who I am. They would have come after me sometime.”

“What happened this morning?”

“Petra and I went to get the car Cyrus arranged for me. They're looking for your car in relation to Eric. And…I'm sorry, but we had to leave it behind.”

He shook his head. His image wobbled. “Don't worry about the car. I only care about you.” He ran his thumb over her lower lip. “All three of you. Stay away from me.” He leaned down into her face. “You promised you weren't trying to rescue me.”

She nodded.

“Your job is to keep yourself safe. The Devil—that's what I call him—promised not to hurt you if I cooperate. But only as long as you're not trying anything funny.”

“I'm not trying anything funny. What about you? You seem better.” Every now and then, though, his image warped or his voice warbled.

“I had a reaction to the Booster—that's what they call it—that they're giving me. I'm better now. But…I don't know how much longer I'll be able to connect to you. Stay with Eric and Petra until the heat dies down. You can trust them. Eric's a bit…”

“Off the wall,” she finished as he tried to think of a nice way to put it. “He worries me sometimes.” Her heart hurt as she took him in, looking so beautiful, the waves of his hair brushing the shoulders of his black shirt, his blue-gray eyes soft with longing and regret. She placed her hands on either side of his face. “It's you I'm scared to death for.”

“Dying is better than being here. I'm not afraid to die. The worst part is losing our connection.”

The thought of hearing his voice, along with Cyrus's, was as frightening as the voices themselves. “Lucas…”

They came together at the same time, crushing each other's mouths, trying to swallow the other up. They took the pleasure of undressing each other the old-fashioned way, stripping off clothing one piece at a time. The feeling that this would be the last time permeated every kiss, every touch. He wasn't even strong enough to bring scenery with him. She held back tears and focused only on him, still with her, still loving her.

“Lucas, I love you.”

He closed his eyes. “Don't.” He kissed her with such fierceness she knew he was only trying to protect her by withholding the words.