YOU ARE PARTIALLY CORRECT, Jamie replied. I’M NOT PART OF THE COMPUTER. I MERELY USE IT TO COMMUNICATE.
“So where are you hiding?”
There was a long pause; then finally the words I’M NOT HIDING—I AM THE HOUSE ITSELF appeared on the screen.
Emma stared numbly at them. “I had to ask,” she muttered.
I HAVEN’T SEEN ESMERALDA IN A VERY LONG TIME, Jamie went on, obviously intent on taking their communication along a new slant. SHE LIVED HERE FOR ONLY A YEAR OR SO, BUT WE GREW VERY CLOSE IN THAT TIME. I’VE OFTEN THOUGHT OF HER, HOPING SHE WOULD COME BACK ONE DAY....
Jesus, Emma thought, rubbing her face. This was all she needed: a nostalgic computer.
HOW IS SHE?
“We haven’t really kept in touch,” Emma said. “That card was the first I’d heard form her in ages.”
WAS THERE AN ADDRESS ON THE CARD OR ITS ENVELOPE?
Emma nodded her head, then remembered what it was she was talking to. “Just a Post Office box number,” she said aloud.
TOO BAD. IF WE COULD CONTACT HER... The cursor paused for a moment, before continuing on across the screen. IT’S POSSIBLE THAT SHE KNOWS MORE THAN COULD HELP US, BUT SENDING A LETTER WOULD TAKE TOO LONG.
“The box is in London, anyway,” Emma said.
ONTARIO?
“No. England. It’s not much help, I guess.”
The screen stayed blank for a long time then and Emma began to be afraid that whatever it was that was communicating to her had gone away. The computer gave her the creeps, but even it was better company than being all alone in this place.
“So,” she said. “How’d you... ah... end up being a house?”
What an insane question. But it was an insane situation.
THAT’S A LONG AND NOT ALTOGETHER PLEASANT STORY, Jamie replied after a moment or so.
“We’ve got lots of time. At least, it doesn’t look like I’m going anywhere.”
“Think again.”
Emma jumped at the sound of the voice, turning in her chair as though she’d been shot.
“Jesus!” she cried when she saw Blue in the doorway. “You scared me half to death.”
She’d never even heard him come in. He stood there with a black leather jacket on over his T-shirt. There was a set of binoculars around his neck and he held a shotgun in one hand.
“I know where they’ve got her.”
“You do? Where?”
“Up around where you live. The Dragon’s got a farm up in the Gatineaus. It’s the only place they could’ve taken her.”
“Are you going there now?”
Blue nodded.
“Are you taking me?”
“Are you game?” he asked. “I’ve got the feeling you should be there. I mean, if you and Button are two halves of the same person...”
He frowned and Emma was pleased to see that the whole concept bothered him as well. Then she wondered just what had gone on between her other half and him.
“Well, it just makes sense for you to come,” Blue added. “But if you don’t feel you can handle it...”
Emma stood up quickly. “Let’s go before you change your mind,” she said. “I’m going batty in here.”
The computer beeped loudly before they could leave the room. Blue crossed over to read the. message on its screen. WHY ARE YOU TAKING THAT SHOTGUN?
“Come on, Jamie. You think they’re just going to hand her over if I ask them nicely?”
THE LAST TIME-
Blue cut the words off before they could flow across the screen. “I know what happened the last time.” In the Otherworld. When he’d gone berserk fighting those creatures. He still couldn’t handle the way the violence had come back to him so easily. Like it’d never gone away. “Maybe this is just what I am, Jamie,” he said after a moment. “Maybe what I know best is violence and the shit that goes with it.”
YOU USED TO WORK ON GENTLER ARTS. YOU AND SARA. YOU TAUGHT HER AS MUCH AS SHE TAUGHT YOU.
Blue could almost hear Jamie’s voice as the words touched the screen. It would be gently reprimanding.
“I’m not giving up one for the other,” Blue said softly. “And Sara’s not here anymore.” Was that another of his problems? he wondered as the words left his mouth. Did he feel that he’d been deserted—first by Jamie, then by Sara and Sally? Or did he feel he’d driven them away?
DO WHAT YOU HAVE TO, Jamie replied.
Blue nodded, hearing the regret that would have been there if Jamie could speak. He turned slowly away. “Come on,” he said to Emma. “How did you get here?” he added as he led the way to the garage.
“I drove.”
“You’re parked on Patterson?”
She nodded.
“Okay. We’ll get my bike and I’ll drop you off at your car. Then you can follow me out. Can you take this with you in the car?” He handed her the shotgun. “I won’t get ten blocks with it on the bike—cops’ll stop me, sure as shit.”
She took it gingerly.
“This could get rough,” he warned her.
She swallowed thickly. “I guess... I guess that’s just sinking in.” The weapon was heavy in her hand. “What are you planning to do?”
“Did you ever hear the legend of St. George?” Blue asked her.
Emma nodded.
“Well, that’s you and me, Emma. We’re going up against a Dragon—just like he did.”
8
Judy took the Norton out for a spin when she was finished working on it. When she got back, she readjusted the carburetor until it was finally running as smoothly as she wanted it to. Shutting off the engine, she went to get herself a beer. As she was popping the tab, she thought about Blue’s visit.
The Dragon. Snatched some girl. And wouldn’t you know that Blue’d have to go out like some knight in greasy armor to get her back.
“Aw shit, Blue,” she muttered.
Putting down the beer, she went over to the wall and picked up the phone.
Four
1
The room they put Button in was on the second floor of the farmhouse. It had a bed with crumpled dirty sheets and an old blanket, and a window that was painted shut, overlooking the backyard. Past the yard were fields with the Gatineau Mountains rising up green behind them. The floor was a litter of cigarette butts, beer cans and other trash.
Joey shoved her into the room, then slammed and locked the door. Button staggered, arms pinwheeling for balance. When she came up against a wall, she leaned against it for a long moment and caught her breath. She took in her surroundings distastefully, then made for the window. Clearing a space on the floor in front of it, she knelt down and stared out at the freedom of the fields and mountains that couldn’t be hers. She leaned her arms on the windowsill, her head on her arms, and the afternoon passed.
What made the waiting hardest was not knowing what her captors meant to do with her. At least they weren’t last night’s creatures, she thought. No. They were bikers. Maybe that was worse. She was still flushed from the remarks of the men downstairs who had greeted her arrival with whoops and catcalls; the sleazy women, with their cold appraising eyes.
But thinking of bikers brought Blue to mind. With no past to retreat to, she went over and over her memories of the little time she’d spent with him in that big strange house he was looking after. Sometimes she half-expected to hear him come roaring up to the farmhouse on his bike to rescue her—just like he had last night—but then she’d realize that he didn’t even know where she’d been taken. He might even think that she’d just taken off.
She wondered if she’d ever known anybody like him before. God, it was hard to have nothing to connect her to the rest of the world. The world was there inside her—knowledge of everything from current events and history to how to make her way around Ottawa. But it was impersonal. Like something she’d read about, not places she’d actually been. She could call the city up, street by street, but not where she fit into it.
Maybe she was married a
nd had kids, though that didn’t feel right. Even having a boyfriend didn’t feel right. So did she just live on her own? What did she do for a living? And what in God’s name did these men want with her?
She twisted the bottom of her sweatshirt in her hands, then looked down at it. Even it wasn’t hers. She hadn’t wanted to put on her dirty blouse this morning, so she’d poked about in the closet of the room Blue had left her in until she’d found something she liked. It was comfortable. She probably liked casual clothes. She—
“Oh, Blue,” she said softly. “I wish you’d come get me.”
She put her head back down on her arms and stared listlessly out the window. The afternoon passed, time dragging like a cloud’s slow movement on a windless day. But then she heard footsteps on the stairs, her door being unlocked, and everything started to move in a confusing blur again.
“Okay, babe,” Chance said from the doorway. Joey loomed up behind him, a feral glitter in his eyes that gave his dull features a frightening cast. “Time to get this show on the road.”
2
Blue and Emma stopped in at her place so that she could change into clothing more suitable for the bush, then headed off to the Dragons’ farmhouse, Blue leading the way, Emma following in her car. At the turnoff to the farmhouse, Blue kept right on going. He didn’t stop until they were well beyond the buildings. Pulling his bike off the road, he indicated to Emma that she should just park by the side. When she joined him, she was carrying the shotgun.
The spot Blue had chosen had a good vantage point from which they could overlook the farm. He gave the place a slow once-over with the binoculars, marking the various cars and bikes parked on the lawn and by the barn. There were some rusted hulks off to one side of the barn, but the Mustang was there, right in front of the house, along with a pickup truck and a beat-up Trans Am. He counted nine bikes. Four or five Dragons were lounging on the farmhouse’s porch. There’d be more inside, he knew.
“The car’s there,” he said, turning back to Emma.
“What are we going to do?”
Blue rubbed his face. “Play it by ear, I guess. There’s too many of them for me to take them head-on—best to wait until it gets dark, anyway. I’ll go down then, see if I can sneak her out, or maybe get the drop on them.”
“What about me?”
“I wanted you to keep watch. If things get hairy, I need you to get out of here and go for help. I’ve got a friend you can contact,” He pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket. On the back of it, he wrote in Tucker’s home and business phone numbers. “But I’m hoping we can pull this off without any fireworks.”
“God, I’m scared,” Emma said. She held up her hand. “Look at me shake.”
Blue nodded. “I know the feeling.”
Somehow, knowing that he was nervous, too, just made Emma feel worse. Blue studied the farm again through the binoculars.
“I’ve been wondering,” he said as he turned back to her.
“About what?”
“Well, why they were chasing just Button and not you, too.”
Emma didn’t have an answer for that. Shrugging, Blue turned his attention back to the farm. It was past six by the time they got into place. As the hands of Emma’s wristwatch slowly reached seven, Blue stiffened suddenly.
“What’s happening?”
“I see her,” Blue said, his voice grim.
Through the binoculars, he could see Button being led out between Chance and Joey. When Chance got on his bike, Joey shoved Button toward it. She got on the back with a jerky motion. Scared. Once she was in place, Joey got onto a three-wheeler with a car engine behind the seat. Blue held his gaze on the scene as the two bikes started up, waiting until he was sure the two men were leaving on their own. He nodded to himself as the bikes turned in their direction.
“Somebody’s smiling on us,” he said. Dropping the binoculars so that they bounced against his chest, he turned to Emma. “Let’s go.”
“Will you tell me what’s happening?”
“Chance and his buddy are taking her away on their bikes and you and me, Emma, are going after them.”
He ran down toward his own machine, letting Emma follow at her own pace, still carrying the shotgun. When they reached the trees where Blue had hidden his Harley, he waited for her to catch up.
“Once they go by,” he said, “get ready to move out fast.”
“Shouldn’t we just stop them on the road?” Emma asked. She held up the shotgun.
“Wouldn’t I love to,” Blue said, but he shook his head.
“Trouble is, at the speed they’ll be going, there’s too much chance that Button’ll get hurt. We’ve got to follow and look for a spot to take them out.”
Just then the bikes roared by—Chance with Button on the back in the lead, Joey’s three-wheeler right behind. As Blue had expected, neither man paid any attention to Emma’s car parked on the side of the road. He knew what they were thinking—who was going to mess with the Dragon?
“Let’s go!” he cried.
He started up his Harley and headed for the road, dirt spitting behind its rear wheel as it sought traction in the rough sod. By the time he was on the road, Emma had just gotten into her car. Putting the shotgun on the floor by the passenger’s seat, she started it up and sped off after Blue’s already diminishing figure.
3
It was Chance who spotted them first. Checking his rearview to look at Joey, he saw the bike and car coming up behind them. He flashed on the car—the way it’d been parked alongside the road. Just waiting for them to go by. He didn’t know who was driving it, but the biker had to be Blue. He wasn’t sure how Blue’d tracked them down, but it couldn’t be anyone else.
Just like the last time, he thought. You, me and a girl, Blue. But I got a hole card like you won’t believe. He grinned, thinking of what the Lady’s gnashers would do to Blue; then he realized that she wouldn’t be too happy with him bringing shit down on her home turf.
He lifted his hand to get Joey’s attention. Nice thing about a three-wheeler. It was hard to unbalance. Not like a Harley. He pointed behind them, nodding to himself when he was sure that Joey had seen their pursuit and would take care of them. The three-wheeler fell away as Joey slowed down, then went into a skidding 180. Joey aimed his machine right at the oncoming bike and car, front end lifting from the ground as he cranked up the gas.
Chance fed more gas into his own bike with a hard twist of his wrist and he shot ahead, leaving them all behind.
4
Weasel laid his head back against the steps of the farmhouse, grinning as he watched Shotgun and Ruthie getting ready to go at it. He looked like his namesake, lean and dangerous, with a knife-hilt protruding above the top of either boot, thin brown hair and a long scar that ran down the side of his left cheek.
Man, those girls were like a pair of cats, he thought. Always at each other’s throats. Shotgun was a big blonde, jeans fitting like a second skin, her large breasts jostling in a torn T-shirt that was a couple of sizes too big. Ruthie was small and dark-haired, built almost like a boy, but who cared, the way she’d go down on a guy—any guy, so long as he had the Dragon colors on the back of his vest.
“Two-to-one Shotgun gets creamed,” Beard said from behind him. He was like a Tennessee mountain man, a wild thatch of dirty blond hair sprouting everywhere. Even his arms and shoulders were covered with a pelt of hairy growth.
“Come on,” Weasel said. “All she’s got to do is smother Ruthie with her tits.”
“You been counting how much brew Shotgun’s been putting back today?”
Before Weasel could respond, they all heard the roar of engines coming up the road. The two women looked away from each other.
“Guess the boys are...” Beard’s voice trailed off as a string of motorcycles turned into the yard. Not one of the riders was wearing colors.
Weasel stared, jaw hanging slack. He lost count of how many bikes there were after the first fifteen or so. There had t
o be twice that number. And then three pickup trucks pulled up in the rear.
“What the fuck?” he muttered, standing up.
Shotgun and Ruthie drifted toward the porch, their fight forgotten. Beard stood up and was joined by the rest of the Dragons inside the farmhouse.
We are in deep shit, Weasel thought as he did a quick calculation as to how many bodies they could field against this invasion. The roar of bikes was like thunder in the farmyard. Then, one by one, the riders shut their machines down. In the forefront, a woman in black leather revealed a frizz of blond hair as she took off her helmet. With the helmet off, Weasel had no trouble recognizing her.
“You tired of living, Judy?” he asked.
Recovering from his surprise, he swaggered over to where she straddled her bike. She gave him a cold stare back, then jerked a thumb over her shoulder.
“It took me an hour to get this crew together,” she said. “Give me a little more time and I can put together three times this many.”
“You got some kind of a problem?” Weasel asked.
Beard was standing beside him now, the other Dragons spreading out across the yard, but Christ, there were only twelve of them here, including the women. Course they had the guns, if some of these dumbfucks were smart enough to bring ’em out. He shot a quick glance to either side and was happy to see that at least Danny and Stern had used their heads. Danny was carrying a repeat shotgun, Stern a hunting rifle. He could see that Judy hadn’t missed the weapons either.
“Let’s keep this real simple,” she said. “Eddie Chance and Joey Martin snatched Blue’s girl. We want her back.”
Weasel started to laugh, but she cut him off.
“Think about it, asshole,” she said. “You want the city closed off to you?”
“Somebody been feeding you happy pills?” Weasel asked. “Fer-crissakes, you’d think—”
“No garage or shop’ll deal with you. No bar’ll serve you.
Every time you set up a deal, the man’ll be breathing up your ass. Are you starting to get the picture?”