A Latent Dark (48 page)

“Oh god!’ she gasped, tears welling in her eyes. “Oh god! Oh God! Oh God! Please don’t hate me!” she pleaded. “I didn’t mean to! I’m
sorrysosorrysosorry
!”

Laura grabbed her and embraced her as Skyla trembled beneath her arms. She shushed away the panic. “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

Fear rushed through her body as the girl sobbed into her chest. She fought it. When the sobbing ended, she let the girl go and looked at her.

“Skyla,” she said, meeting the girl’s eyes. “That was… unbelievable.”

Skyla blinked. “You aren’t mad?”

Laura nodded. “No, God no. Why would I be?”

“Most people get mad,” Skyla said, looking down at her feet. “Most people hit me. Mother always said it was a curse, that I shouldn’t do it. Sorry.”

“Well, under the circumstances I can see why she would be scared for you,” Laura said. “But, Skyla… what you did… that was…” She paused. “What were you seeing exactly?”

Skyla thought for a moment. “It’s like you have a shadow, one that goes toward the light instead of away from it. It’s always where your eyes don’t go. Everyone has one. My mother could see them too.”

“And you can see it now? Still?”

Skyla nodded. “I always see them.”

“Even with the lights on.”

Skyla laughed. “They aren’t those kinds of shadows.”

Laura instinctively turned to look, Skyla watched the woman’s shadow dodge behind her, hiding just out of view. She reached a hand out. It was so close. Laura looked at her, and Skyla recoiled. “Sorry.”

“No… It’s okay,” Laura said. “Is it easier if I turn my head?”

“Yeah.” Skyla stared with wide eyes. She had never touched a shadow before, except that one time in her dream… or was that really a dream at all? The fire and war afterwards was certainly real.

The woman turned away, her shadow swinging out toward Skyla in an arc. She reached out to it and—everything seemed to freeze.

As she touched the shadow she noticed her own hand, still a good distance from the woman. She was instead touching Laura’s shadow with her own, reaching out through her body. Skyla turned and saw her own physical face, frozen in corporeal time. She turned back and looked at Laura’s shadow. It seemed more real now, more like Laura. It looked at her trustingly.

She touched it and it rippled like a stone thrown in a lake. Skyla pulled her hand back and felt that same warm sticky feeling. Not unpleasant this time, but certainly strange, as if she could feel bits of Laura’s memories in the surface. Laura’s shadow smiled.

Skyla let go and watched the tendril wither back into the rest of Laura’s soul—if that’s what you could call it. She turned back to look at her body, a wax portrait staring up at Stintwell. She took a step forward and peered into the Skyla statue. She could see everything: the bones, the muscle. She squinted; she could see
between
the cells: the molecules, the atoms.

This is where I live
, she thought.
This is where we all live.

Then she was back in her body, looking out of her own physical eyes. Laura was staring at her, a look of wonder on her face.

“What was it like?” Doctor Stintwell asked.

“It was… slimy.” Skyla laughed. So did Laura.

“Well I’ll try not to take that as an insult.” Something in the woman’s eyes was different now. There was a connection between the two of them that hadn’t been there before, a familiarity. “You know that you are special, right?” She said. “Your mother and aunt were special too. The worst thing about it all was that I don’t think anyone realized just how special they were, or you are.”

“Most people don’t like me.”

“That’s not true,” said Laura. “I like you. I think a lot of other people do too. It’s just that without being able to see what you see, most people can’t relate. They don’t have the ability to empathize like you do… certainly not on that level. It’s pretty amazing.”

“Did you feel anything?” Skyla asked her.

She paused. “I think I did,” she said. “Before you did it… and after… I don’t know really. It’s all very emotional. It isn’t something that you can quantify.” She spun around in her chair, hands on her desk, probing for something. She made an
ah-ha
face and grabbed an envelope. “I promised you, didn’t I?”

Skyla blinked in confusion. “You did?”

She spilled a small photo out of it and handed it to Skyla. The girl took the photo with her good hand, trembling. The likeness between her and the girls in the photo was uncanny.

They stood on either side of a friendly looking man with a beard. He had a hand on each of their shoulders. Behind them was a pair of doors. The one on the left had “LYNN” nailed to it in big wooden letters. “RHIA” hung from the door on the right.

She looked up at Laura, mouth hanging open. “This is…”

“That’s your mother when she was only a little older than you are now,” Laura said. “And that,”—she pointed to the other girl—“is Rhia.”

Skyla traced a finger over the photo, enrapt in the similarity and differences between the sisters. “Who’s he?”

“That is the man who worked with them,” Laura said. “His name was Jacobes. He was brilliant.”

“What happened to him?” Skyla asked.

“Well now,” Laura said. “That’s an excellent question isn’t it?”

Skyla continued to look at the picture. “I still don’t know why I’m here.”

“Well, do you want to know what I think?” Laura said.

Skyla nodded.

Laura took a breath; she took on the tone of one of Skyla’s schoolteachers. “Let me tell you something about particles.”

Chapter 35

The waiting room in Hel’s asylum was so quiet Dale could hear himself breathe. A door opened to their right, protesting as if it hadn’t been used for eons. It revealed a cafeteria with people shuffling over mundane green and white tiles.

A teenage girl stood in the doorway wearing a white apron over a black dress, her dark hair neatly tucked beneath a thin cap. Her face was colorless, her lips painted black. To Dale she looked like the world’s youngest lunch lady, dressed as a mime.

Lotti
ran to the young woman and leaned down to whisper something in her ear. The lunch lady listened intently and nodded a couple of times. They spoke almost silently as the crowd of inmates continued to stare with sunken eyes and gray lips. Finally the girl marched up to them at the desk.

“Why do you want to see Lynn?” Her voice was sharp and petulant. There was a hint of protective concern in her eyes.

“We just…” Melissa stammered. “I knew her.”

The girl raised an eyebrow. There was a metal ring embedded in it. “Lynn knew a lot of people, quite a few of them untrustworthy.”

“But—”

“Lynn is an inmate here, under strict supervision. She isn’t seeing anyone.”

“I got this invitation,” Melissa said, pulling out the envelope. “I’m supposed to seek an audience with Hel.”

“With
Hel,
” said the girl. “Do you think Lynn is Hel?”

“No, but—”

“And do you think that Lynn would have sent you a letter?” She snatched the envelope away from Melissa’s hand. Her shadowed eyes scanned it. She frowned. “Why would you ask for Lynn if Hel invited you? Who are you really?”

“I’m—”

“Forget it. If you won’t play by the rules, I won’t continue the game.
Lotti
, call in the orderlies. These people are clearly in the wrong reality.”

One of the heavy steel doors shook so violently dust fell from its frame. Through the tiny glass window, Dale could see a hulking black shape.

“But I didn’t know I was supposed to—” Melissa broke off, looking desperately at Dale and Marley.

“Look lady,” said Dale. “I don’t know what your game is, but this girl has an invitation from a freaking goddess. You can’t just go kicking us out on a technicality! I just walked with her over miles—
miles
of godforsaken wasteland that you call scenery, we almost drowned in a river of corpses, and I even got
eaten
by that little four-legged, hair-matted, landshark out in your lawn,
which
I might add could use some watering. For someone who seems to be putting all her time and effort into ‘caring’ for people, you sure have a weird way of showing it.”

The girl smiled, up at him with an expression hovered somewhere between admiration and amusement. Her dark lips spread into a smirking teenaged smile, and her black metal bracelets rattled as she placed her hands on her hips.

“Well now,” she said. “Nice to see you finally grew a set of balls, Dale.”

Dale squinted at her. “Do I know you?”

“No,” she said dismissively. “We have information on everyone that comes here though. Are you really that surprised?” She turned from them and took several paces to the wide double doors. She turned her head and yelled over her shoulder. “You’d better keep up. I don’t have all day.”

The doors opened into a cafeteria the size of a small country, with identical tables spreading out in every direction, disappearing into some unseen horizon. The room was dense with patrons shuffling across the checkered floor or sitting at benches while they plucked at their bland, tasteless food.

More inmates stood in an infinite waiting line, empty trays in hand, their feet all but collecting moss as they waited to move. It was an exercise in boredom, but nobody seemed to mind at all as they shuffled along at a geological pace.

“Wow,” said Dale. “This really is Hell.”

Melissa gave him a jab with her elbow.

The young girl held the door open for them—Marley ducked through, his shoulders barely clearing the doorway—then the group walked on ahead into the throng.

“Follow me,” said the girl. “And you might want to grab a tray to blend in.”

“We aren’t hungry—” Dale began to say, but clamped his mouth at the glare she gave him.

They each grabbed a lightweight metal tray and followed the teenager past the line of people. Every possible assortment of comfortable clothing was in use from pink bunny slippers to worn flannel housecoats. Dale even saw a number of sleeping caps, complete with fluffy balls dangling from the end. Occasionally an inmate would yell
“No cutting!”
as they passed.

“I’m sorry,” said Melissa, struggling to keep up as the girl weaved around inmates. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“You’re here to see Hel.”

The girl ducked around a large, comfortably dressed inmate in a green robe and slippers. Melissa swerved past the man as he chewed on a pork sandwich the size of her head.

“Are you—” One of the servers clanged a tray up ahead, cutting Melissa off.

The cafeteria fell silent as a fat lady behind the counter called out, “I’m sorry everyone, but we are fresh out of Sloppy Joes for the night.” A disappointed moan spread through the crowd like a crashing wave. Several people left the line and disappeared into the crowd as the people behind them scuttled forward to fill in the gaps.

Dale tapped Melissa on the shoulder. “Sloppy who?”

She shrugged.

“Look, if you are Hel, we need—”