A Latent Dark (41 page)

“Good,” said Walter. “Now, I am going to give you the nutshell version: Forget everything you were told death would be, because it’s all bullshit. The only Pearly Gates or Devils with Pitchforks are the products of religion. As you can see, everything here is as fluid as your imagination—which I might add is somewhat limited and depressing, but that’s normal for a man your age, with your history. Most adults settle for what’s comfortable and do pretty well for themselves.

“What I am getting at, Dale is that everything you made yourself into, every decision you made before, followed you here. There is no absolution, no confessional and forgiveness. We all have things to work through here. I do, you do, and she does.” He gestured at Melissa.

“If you want to continue being a traitorous coward, that’s up to you. I’m sure there are some enclaves that would be just fine having you around, but I’m not sure you’d like being around them.

“I can see you are carrying around some pretty heavy issues with you. You are going to have to resolve those issues before you will be welcome here or any place like this. Otherwise, I don’t think the residents of our fair village will be too pleased watching you kill all their hard work as you drag around poison in your wake. Gardeners are touchy about that. Nod if you understand.”

Dale nodded. He felt as though he was floating in a sea of color and warmth. He wasn’t even aware of his feet touching the ground.

“Good,” Walter continued. “Now Missy here wants to help you. I’m not sure why, and frankly I don’t really care. I have my own business to attend to. But Missy thinks that she knows a way that you can both take care of your demons—sorry. Issues. ‘Demon’ is my old life talking. Missy thinks you can take care of them and help Skyla as well. Nod again if you got that.”

Dale nodded.

The pinwheel shattered and was gone almost as quickly as it appeared, filling Dale with a sudden, inexplicable sadness. With it gone, he felt heavy again. Walter’s smile was sympathetic.

“Now,” he said, stepping over to a tree stump on the edge of the grass. “It would only be fair of me to allow you to ask a couple of questions.”

Dale’s first impulse was to ask to see the pinwheel again, but he knew that somehow felt like a petty request.

“Are you a doctor?” he asked the man.

“No. Next question.”

 “You say you have… issues… demons…”

Walter nodded. “Who doesn’t?”

He began to feel the weight of the—attachment—on his back as soon as the question entered his mind, but he asked anyway. “How do you…”

“Channel it?”

Dale nodded.

“Well, look at this cane, these houses. It’s all made of the same stuff, Dale. It’s all an extension of someone. Nothing comes for free here. Don’t go thinking it’s magic, because it’s not. You give a part of yourself to make it happen.”

“Why is mine… so…”

“Huge? Horrifying? Ugly? Disfigured?” Walter said. “Well, that’s because it’s controlling you. You’ll figure it out.” He stood and patted both Dale and Melissa on the shoulder.

“
Alrighty
. I think that’s all the time we have for now. You kids run along… and good luck.”

“Good luck with what?” Dale asked.

Walter pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to Melissa. “You got another message. I think she’s getting impatient. Woman doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘soon’.”

“Who’s she?” Dale asked, slightly annoyed at being ignored.

Melissa opened the envelope, glanced at the note and then dashed away, skirting the perimeter of the town, blue dress flowing behind her. She spun around on her heel and waved to Dale.

“Come on,” she yelled.

He started toward her when Walter caught his arm. The man leaned in toward him. “Skyla is very important to all of us. I don’t think you really understand that just yet. There are things on the horizon that threaten even us… you included.”

Dale looked at the man, searching his face. “You know Skyla?”

“I knew her mother. I knew her mother’s sister as well. I also knew Lyle Summers. Don’t think for an instant that you are safe from him.”

“But I’m… we’re—”

Walter gripped his arm even tighter. “Even here Dale. You’re not safe from him even here. Remember that.”

Their eyes locked for a moment, then Walter smiled and released him.

Dale ran to catch up to Melissa. She was skipping into a forest, the branches twisting away from her. A corridor of woven vines and twigs led them away from the hidden village.

“What was all that about?” He asked her as he caught up, glancing at the note in her hand. “And what’s with the note?”

“It’s an invitation.”

“To what?”

 “To Hel,” said Melissa, her tone serious.

“I thought there was no Hell.”

“Not Hell, you goof. Hel, with one L.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s not a what, it’s a who.”

“Okay,” said Dale. “Who then?”

She stopped, turning slowly to Dale and locked her eyes to his. At once, the sky grew dark and heavy with swirling black clouds, laced with malice and thunder. Branches shuddered as a cold gale blew leaves around their feet, tossing her hair in a fan. Her unblinking eyes burned into him as she looked at Dale, her small body filled with determination, vibrating with power.

“She’s a
god
,” said Melissa, her voice low, her face far too melodramatic.

“How did you do that?”

“Did you like it?” Melissa smiled and continued onward in front of him, the surroundings returning to normal. “I’m trying to get the wind just right. Lightning would have been nice, but that takes a lot more practice. Thunder is actually easier than you think.”

She spun in a pirouette several paces in front of him as the world returned to its placid meadows, bubbling brooks and willow trees. A flock of pearl-winged birds appeared out of thin air and took flight, vanishing over a hillside.

“Now, hurry up, slowpoke,” she said. “Hel’s a busy woman.”

Chapter 31

Skyla was feeling the effects of a full stomach for the first time in weeks and it was
fan-
tastic
. If she had been allowed to sleep, she could have done so for ages. Instead she sat in a white chair across the table from Stintwell, who was holding another stack of cards. The tests seemed to go much slower when all she wanted to do was take a nap.

They had placed a thin metal lattice around her head, similar to her goggles only without the leather cap. It was cold to the touch, but compared to the weight of the goggles, Skyla didn’t even notice them half the time. Empty frames circled her eyes, a mock-up of the lenses she was accustomed to, their concentric rings rotating, stopping, clicking with the slightest movement or thought.

For every question she answered, there would be a deep hum that slowly crescendoed in pitch and then discharged with a distant pop. It was faint, but she noticed that it happened at the same time the empty frames around her eyes would shift. The sound reminded her of a broken engine trying to start for the last time.

 “I’m going to show you some more pictures,” said Stintwell. “And then I’d like you to meet Dr. Ostermann.”

“Who’s that?”

“He and I work together. You met him briefly when you arrived, but you were probably too exhausted to remember.”

“What kinds of tests? Like these?”

“Like these,” Stintwell said. “But less boring.”

She gave a wry grin and Skyla couldn’t help but smile back. She liked Dr. Stintwell. Most of the other tinkerers in the complex had been distant towards Skyla, almost nervous as she passed them in the halls. Skyla was used to it now, but in contrast to Stintwell they seemed far more aloof.

“I’m getting tired,” Skyla said.

“You had a big meal and a long day,” said Stintwell. “I swear, you keep the cooks more busy than half the staff. I’m beginning to wonder if you have a hollow leg.”

“I love the food,” said Skyla. “But it makes me sleepy.”

For a moment she thought she read something on Stintwell’s face and shadow, just a flicker, then it was gone.

 “Well then this next part will be easy. You don’t even have to answer any questions. I just want you to look at the pictures as hard as you can. Can you do that?”

“What happens then?”

“A machine will record the effects. It’s measuring how well you concentrate.”

“Is that the machine I keep hearing?”

“That’s right,” Stintwell said and for a moment, opened her mouth as if to say more, then closed it abruptly. “Now, are you ready?”

Skyla nodded.

The first few cards were optical illusions. Some Skyla had seen before in books: a vase that was really two faces, stairs that could go any direction, an old woman that could also be a bird. Every time Skyla stared at the picture she would hear the machine wind up, click and discharge. She imagined someone photographing her from a hidden camera behind the white tiled walls, standing on some ancient, broken steam engine.

As the tests progressed, the pictures became more abstract. She was shown images of impossible geometric shapes that could only exist on paper. Skyla had never seen anything like them and found it hard to look away.

The machine in the walls made its damaged hum and click again. After the last card was viewed, Stintwell asked her if she needed anything.

“You said I could see my mother and aunt.”

“You will,” said Stintwell. Again, her shadow flickered, but the tiles made it too difficult to read clearly.

“When?” asked Skyla.

“Well,” Stintwell said, placing a pencil in the fold above her ear. “That’s up to Dr. Ostermann and how well you cooperate.”

“But I will see them soon, right?”

“Of course you will.”

As she spoke, a small yellow light appeared on the wall beside the door. Stintwell excused herself in a hurry. Skyla watched her leave as the door clicked shut behind her, sealing itself perfectly to the wall.

When it opened again, a man stepped through holding a briefcase. He was familiar and Skyla even remembered passing him in the hallways a few times. He wore a long white coat and smiled at her from a thin face behind multi-
lensed
spectacles. His shadow, though faint, told a different story; something about the tests, and that they weren’t just for fun.

He’s afraid I’ll perform the test on him,
she thought.

As the idea passed through her mind, the walls began to hum. The hidden machine clicked. Ostermann hesitated, missing a step, then regained his stride as if nothing happened, but he seemed unhappy about the noise.

He heaved the briefcase onto the table between them and then smiled.

“Hello Skyla, I am Pall Ostermann. I believe we were briefly introduced when you first arrived, but you were pretty confused. I hope everyone here has been nice to you.”

“Hi,” she said and yawned. “Yes they have.”

“Tired?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I think I ate too much.”