The shotgun was cocked by one of his Gets, but Hex spoke as if he had the gun in his hands. “I’m told that this hurts immensely.”
“We know what you’re up to,” Ukiah growled. “And we know you’re screwed royally. We’ve decided to add to your misery.”
Hex sniffed, finishing tightening the tourniquet as if he were straightening a necktie. “You’re bluffing.”
Ukiah forced himself to laugh. “She can’t get it for you. The FBI doesn’t have it. They never had it.”
Hex stopped, his head lifting to stare at Ukiah. “What are you talking about?”
“You screwed yourself good this time. You were so sure that the FBI had your toy that you’ve done everything but paint a bull’s-eye on yourself. God, we’ve gone so long as your whipping boy, but now you’ve done it good. The FBI knows about you now. They hate you and they’ll hunt you down like the monster you are.”
The Ontongard leader turned and walked away.
Ukiah thrashed against those holding him, straining to get closer to Indigo, to place himself between her and Hex. “You can make her into your Get, but she won’t be able to fetch it for you.”
He risked a glance at Indigo. Her face was steeled to neutral. Her eyes flared with emotion when his met hers, pain that went deeper than any emotion he had ever seen register on her face, and then was gone, controlled and banished.
Hex returned, carrying a length of two-by-four in his hand. The Get holding Ukiah heaved him suddenly up and forward. “Doesn’t have it?” He struck Ukiah with a casual backhanded blow across the face with the two-by-four. “Can’t get it?” Again the two-by-four struck. “My toy?” A whimper of pain leaked out of Ukiah with the third blow. “Stop dancing around the pronoun and give the name.”
“The remote key. Janet Haze had it in the woods and lost it. Only she couldn’t remember that, could she? You killed her because she screwed you to hell and back.”
The Ontongard leader stood looking at him, still holding the bloody two-by-four. It was quite possible, Ukiah realized suddenly, that he was about to be beaten to death with it. His eyes wanted to steal over and look at Indigo again, but he controlled them. He mustn’t let Hex know how important she was to him.
“Shaw was in the park. He found it, didn’t he?”
Certain that Hex could spot a lie, Ukiah kept to the truth. “For the first time the Pack controls the key.”
Hex looked down at him with what might be a glare. The all-black eyes made it hard to read. Into that silence Ukiah’s phone chirped. It had chirped a second time when one of the Get pulled it from Ukiah’s pocket and pressed the answer button.
“Talk,” Hex commanded.
He almost said his name, but swallowed it. “Yes?”
It was the Pack leader. “Where are you?”
Hex, hearing Rennie’s voice, reached out and took it from the Get. “Shaw, you have something of mine. I have something of yours. I’m sure that you remember what I did to the last little one you were so stupid to Get.” An image flashed into Ukiah’s mind and he almost vomited. A child served like a roast pig, skin golden crisp and pulled back from joints, mint sauce on the side. “I suggest a trade. I’ll even throw in an FBI agent. It seems I don’t need her.”
Rennie’s answer was clear. “Go to hell.”
The Ontongard leader held out the phone. Without warning the shotgun was placed above Ukiah’s foot and the trigger pulled. The pain struck Ukiah with the noise, a deafening thunder and ring of the shotgun’s report and the pain of dozens of pellets ripping his foot apart. Ukiah screamed, trying not to look, but his battered flesh reported the damage. His boot had been peeled away, along with much of his flesh. Bone was exposed to air, ripped free of flesh, and broken.
After Ukiah’s scream fell to a whimper, Hex put the phone back to his ear. “He’s a cute little puppy dog, Shaw. If I have to, I’ll blow him full of holes.”
“I’m not far behind him, and I’ll pay you in kind for anything done to him.”
“Growl, dog, growl. That’s all you’ve done for hundreds of years.”
The Get, though, were moving. They produced a length of chain and secured Ukiah’s arms and legs tightly, as he struggled weakly to get free. The chain was looped back to a support beam and padlocked there. One Get vanished and reappeared with cans of gel fuel.
“I’m done growling.” Rennie’s voice was calm. “I’m going to tear your throat out.”
“Agree to the trade, Shaw, or there won’t be anything to salvage of him.”
“You’ve gone mad if you think I’ll trade the world for the life of one Get. Kill him. Scatter his ashes to the wind. You’ll never see that remote key again.”
Hex flung the phone away. He turned and struck Ukiah with the two-by-four, again and again. Ukiah writhed under the blows, trying to pull his chained hands over his head.
Suddenly Hex caught him by the hair, jerked him up to look him in the face. “Where is it?”
A pressure struck Ukiah full in the forehead. His mouth opened and the words rushed out. “It’s in the tree—” He snapped his Judas jaw shut, biting his tongue deep in the effort.
Hex pulled him closer. “You know, don’t you. Where is the key?”
The desire increased, like a scream of pain presses to be released. He fought the desire.
“You said ‘in the tree.’ You will tell me where it is.” The alien caught Ukiah’s chin and wretched his head up—locking their gaze. “Again. Where is it?”
At my home, he wanted to scream, with my moms and sister, but he bit relentlessly down on his tongue. No. Don’t tell. Never tell. Die first.
“Where is it?”
He howled, in pain for a moment, then it deepened as he found some secret refuge inside him. It was a wolf’s howl of misery, of defiance?—no—a call to the Pack. He howled till the air was gone from his lungs. Then he breathed deep and started to howl again. Call the Pack. Call the Pack and they’ll kill this torturer of cubs.
Hex growled and snatched the shotgun from his Get. He chambered a shell and shot Ukiah in the chest. Again. And again. And again until Ukiah lost count, pain and noise blurring together. When it stopped, the ringing of the report went on with the pain. Ukiah fought for breath, refusing to give in until he was sure Indigo was safe.
Hex turned away. “Burn them both.”
Ukiah flailed on the floor. He had to save Indigo. “No.” His voice wasn’t much more than a croak. “You can’t hurt her.”
“I can’t?” He lifted up the shotgun to point at Indigo.
The words were impossible to form. “She’s carrying,” he gasped for a breath and forced the rest, “my seed. She’s my mate. I’m Prime’s son.”
Pack memory translated the disbelief, then dismayed revelation flashing across the alien’s features. He wiped blood from Ukiah’s face and tasted it. “You’re Prime’s brat, a God damn breeder and I just blasted you full of holes!”
Out in the night, a wolf howl lifted, deep and angry.
Hex screamed with anger, turned, and shot one of his own Get. He emptied the shotgun into the hapless man, then used the gun like a club. Finally he flung the gun aside.
He stooped down beside Ukiah. “You’re going to help me take this world.” He reached down and plucked up a squirming ball of fur. It was, Ukiah realized distantly, one of his mice memories already forming from the blood pooling about him. “One way or another.” Hex shoved the mouse into a pocket and reached down, snatching up two more. “Bring them both. Hurry.”
There was an explosion at the door that Ukiah had come through earlier. Hex glanced toward the noise and fled in the other direction, running before the Pack.
The remaining Get scurried to free them. Ukiah could only lie and watch them fumble with the blood-slick links. He felt like he was under water, trying to suck air through a layer of water. The pain was gone and there remained just a growing coldness. Things seemed to be traveling away from him, as though he was slowly falling down a we
ll. Dimly he was aware that they had undone Indigo’s chains, and that she fought them silently, savagely. Then the Pack was there and Hex’s Get became instantly dead bodies strewn haphazardly on the floor.
“Go after Hex,” Rennie snarled. “Run him down and kill him.”
The Pack went, nose to the wind to catch the trail. Indigo came and gathered him into her arms, a furnace of heat against his cold skin. There were tears in her eyes, turning them to pools of mercury. Rennie crouched beside Ukiah. “Cub?”
Ukiah fought for the surface of the well. “I told Him—I told Him—who I am—Indigo my mate—with my seed. Keep her safe.”
Rennie touched his bloody cheek. I’ll keep her safe. You can stop fighting and rest.
Ukiah looked over to Indigo and lost himself in her eyes and died.
CHAPTER NINE
Monday, June 22, 2004
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Ukiah came awake with the thunder of guns echoing through his head, as if the report had been stuck in his ears until he was aware enough to register it. It faded to oppressive silence. He listened for some time to his ragged breathing and stumbling heartbeat. Eventually they strengthened and steadied, becoming monotonous.
Then he noticed he was cold, weak, and naked. He opened his eyes. Smooth white porcelain pressed against his cheek and filled his vision. He could see a sliver of the room beyond the wall of porcelain. An unfamiliar bathroom spread out around him, smelling of disinfectant and enclosed air.
What am I doing here?
It was his first conscious thought but there were no answers forthcoming. He remembered sitting in his moms’ kitchen, Max about to serve him eggs—then nothing—not even choppy flashes of unattached memories. His mind had been wiped clean. No clue remained why he was sleeping naked in a strange bathtub.
What happened to me?
There was movement and three black mice scurried along the lip of the bathtub to his face. One, braver than the other two, came up to rest tiny paws on his nose and eyed him closely.
Are you mine? he wondered. Are you memories I lost? What happened?
Suddenly he felt a wave of mice pour across his body, heard their tiny feet magnified by sheer numbers into a weak rumble. They crowded onto the edge to press close to his face, weaving and bobbing. Bursts of images careened through his mind.
Flashes of pain, of an alien’s face, of the smell of Indigo, like flashbulbs, exploded across his senses and were gone. He latched firmly on one thought and moaned in agony. Indigo! The Ontongard had Indigo!
He waved weakly at the mice, trying to get them out of his way. They fled to the other side of the tub. He clawed at the slick surface, finding all his muscles weirdly weak. It was as if the Pack had gassed him again. Had they?
He got up on the edge of the bathtub. Hundreds of small objects he hadn’t noticed before rained off him, pinging off the ceramic floor. He caught one after it dribbled to a stop. It was a tiny gray metal ball, smaller than a pea in size. He frowned at it until enlightenment dawned on him. They were shotgun pellets. The Ontongard had obviously used a shotgun on him, many times.
He toppled onto the floor. The bath mat had a big H with Hilton written through it. He could see into the next room now, obviously a hotel room with the standard two beds, chairs, and a TV set.
He was at the Hilton?
Someone moved in the next room. He recognized the person as Pack before they came into view. Hellena stopped in the bathroom door, looking slightly bemused at him.
“You’re awake.” She lifted him with surprising ease, carried him like a child into the next room. One of the beds was already turned down. She laid him in it and tucked the sheets about his chest.
Although he couldn’t see them, he was aware of the wave of mice following after them. Their numbers finally impressed on him the fact that he had been hurt badly.
“I need to find Indigo,” he whispered to Hellena.
“You’ve already found her,” Hellena soothed. “You were a knight without armor, riding to the rescue. You saved her, and now you need to heal. You’re feather light from all the blood you lost.”
The mice joined him on the bed, their thoughts on food. He could feel their hunger along with his own. “I’m starving.”
She laughed and picked up the phone. “Hello? Yes, this is Suite 320. Can I still get breakfast? Good, I want four of the works. Pancakes, sausage, orange juice, anything that looks like breakfast, please bring it up. Also, can I have a plate of cheese? Cubed. Thank you.” She hung up and smiled at him in her maternal way. “There. It will be up in a few minutes.”
He looked around the room. “Why are we here?”
“We’re hiding.” She tweaked the blankets closer to his chest. “Hex now knows that you exist and that you alone know the location of the remote key. He would kill to get ahold of you.”
Remote key? What was a remote key? Pack memory called it up, and he realized it was the strange object he had found in Schenley Park. The implications cascaded down on him. The key was only good if the ship had survived. If the ship had survived, then the sleepers could be woken. If the sleepers woke, Earth was doomed. He shuddered at the casualness with which he had slipped the key into his stash hole.
“You’ll be cold until you eat.” Hellena misunderstood his shudder. “Your body used most of its energy up healing itself. You’re not completely healed yet, but your body needed to let you wake up to take fuel in.”
Ukiah indicated the mice with his eyes. “What about them?”
“When you’re completely healed and they are fully fed, you can take them back in. If you tried now, the system’s wide energy drain would kill you again.”
“Again? I was dead?”
She shrugged slightly. “It happens. You were dead in Schenley Park when Rennie and I first found you.”
Obviously I have to rethink some of my past. How many times he had woken up cold and starving with no clue as to what had just happened? The first had been with Joe Gary, with the rifle hole that had seemed like it should have gone straight through him, but hadn’t. There had been the motorcycle accident last winter, the one he had never told anyone about, waking alongside the road with his neck hurting as if he’d broken it. There had been the blankness of his early childhood. Had he been killed, left for dead, only to revive with no memory at all?
He moaned as it suddenly hit him; if he had rescued Indigo and then died, Indigo would think he was dead forever. She would tell Max. Max would tell his moms.
“I need to call my moms, and Max, and Indigo. I need to let them know I’m okay.”
Hellena caught his hand as he reached for the phone. “You’re not okay, not yet. A kitten could kill you by just playing with your mice. When you’re dead, you’re helpless. Wait.”
“They think I’m dead.”
“And they’ve thought that way for a full day now. A few more hours won’t add or subtract from that first blow of grief.”
He considered, then shook his head. “My moms and Indigo, yeah, I think they can take it. I’m afraid for Max. I’m afraid that he’ll blame himself and do something stupid. Please.”
Her dark eyebrows drew together in worry, but finally she nodded. She dialed the number and held the phone to his ear. Max’s wireless phone rang three times and then dropped Ukiah into the voice mail. He entered Max’s security code and worked through the stored messages. Most of them were from Kraynak, abrupt requests for a return call. The last hinted that Max wasn’t even carrying his phone. Ukiah deleted all traces of his call from Max’s system and exited.
“I thought those things were supposed to be more secure,” Hellena murmured as she hung up.
“If you have the security code, then you can do anything with them.”
“Do you know the code from overhearing it, or did your partner tell it to you?”
He looked at her, surprised. “If he trusts me with his life, why wouldn’t he trust me with his privacy?”
They heard a
knock on the door of the adjoining room. Hellena leaned down and produced a shotgun from under the bed. She undid the locks on the bedroom door, stalked out to the adjoining sitting room. She stood for a moment silent beside the door. Ukiah found himself trying to sense what stood beyond the far door. Pack? Ontongard? Human?
Hellena judged it to be human, because she called softly, “Who is it?”
“Room service. You ordered some food.”
“Wait a minute.” Hellena tucked the shotgun behind a chair beside the door and came to shut the door to the bedroom. Ukiah could hear her undo all the security locks and chains and opened the door. “Just leave the cart, if you can.”
“Okay. When you’re done, just push it outside. Please sign here.”
A moment later the outside door closed and Ukiah relaxed. Hellena redid the locks, pushed the cart into the bedroom, and locked that door too. The smell of food was maddening. The mice abandoned him in a wave to rush the cart. She laughed and set the dish of cubed cheese on the floor for them.
“You know,” Ukiah tried to sit up and failed, “as a private detective hired to find someone, I usually check hotels first.”
“Humans use hotels.” Hellena helped him to sit and stuffed pillows behind him. “The Pack normally hole up in abandoned buildings or head out to a national park.”
“Why aren’t we, then?”
“Necessity. The rest of the Pack are looking for the Ontongard. I couldn’t take care of you alone elsewhere. Here I have running hot water, food delivery,” she set a plate of pancakes down in front of him with a flourish, “and, if necessary, a security team who will view me as right, because I’m the paying customer. The suite gives me two sets of locked doors they have to get through, and being off the ground floor means they won’t come in through the window.”
Ukiah attacked the pancakes as he considered the slight Pack woman. Unsaid, but implied, was the fact that she was the last line of defense before the Ontongard reached him. She seemed in her late twenties, but she appeared early in Rennie’s memories, making her at least a hundred. There was no clue as to how she had been made into Pack, she had just appeared at a Gathering, awkward and shy. To give Rennie credit, he had loved her on first sight, and had stayed true to her through the course of a century. Memory led to memory, and Ukiah was suddenly recalling what it was like to make love to her.