Awakenings (22 page)

The sheriff let Daniel sit outside his office instead of in the tank with the real malfeasants. The boy suspected the lawman sympathized with him but had his hands tied in this matter. After all, if Daniel went postal one day and the authorities neglected an opportunity to prevent it, there would be hell to pay.

Daniel wondered if he’d be forced into aggression therapy. Maybe they’d place him on antidepressants? The thought of numbing out life was inviting to Daniel. He had occasionally contemplated the “stoner” lifestyle. They were numb to life’s barbs. At least he’d belong to a clique. But that path was too similar to his stepfather’s, and that meant there’d be another generation of asshole on the way. He wouldn’t give Clyde the victory.

Rita walked into the squad room. Daniel let out a sigh of relief; a reprieve from the wrath of Clyde had been granted. He would, however, have to make arrangements to sleep elsewhere that evening. Before today, Adrian’s house would have been the best refuge, but Daniel was now more inclined to help the Grundys pound on the fat boy.
No good deed goes unpunished,
he thought, recalling the satisfying crunch of the two-by-four into Elijah Grundy’s face.

Rita ignored her son as she walked into the sheriff’s office. The sheriff asked Daniel to come in. He sat to his mother’s left. It was the first time all day he could see Sheriff Maher’s eyes. He looked like a fair man.

“Will this take long?” Rita asked. “My neighbor is watching my four-year-old.”

“Ma’am…,” the sheriff started—there was a sense of urgency in his tone, “Dr. Brown is of the mind that the size and impact of your boy’s injuries were not made by another teenager.”

“My son is free to go, then?”

The sheriff looked troubled that his point had been missed. “No, ma’am, it doesn’t work like that. We know for a fact Daniel was involved in the altercation with those boys and whipped them good. But, I’m still concerned about his bruises. Those marks are the fist and foot imprints of a fully grown man. Perhaps another situation, maybe at home, is forcing him to act out against his schoolmates.”

Rita sat in silence, her hands placed perfectly on her lap before her as if in prayer. Her eye contact with the sheriff never wavered. Daniel noticed the dimple, which occurred when his mother bit down on her inner cheek, sometimes to the point of bleeding.

“Ma’am?” the sheriff said.

“What are you implying?”

The sheriff rubbed his jaw and redoubled his efforts to communicate the facts to Rita.

“Mrs. Hauer…”

“Knoffler. Hauer was my former husband’s name.”

“God rest his soul,” Daniel whispered. He tried to incite a response from Rita, but she just gripped her armrest tighter. The sheriff noted the exchange.

“Ma’am, a boy that’s bullied is liable to act out in extreme ways. Possibly take things out against innocent people from sheer frustration. This is serious. Do you know anyone—adults—who have issues with your son?”

“No one has any issues with Danny. He’s a good kid. I don’t even understand why he’s here. He’s the one looks beat up.”

“Them Grundys was sent to the emergency room, ma’am.”

“Jim-Bob Grundy shaves almost daily,” she said. “He’s been left back so many times he’s eligible for the draft. Have you checked the size of
his
fists?”

The sheriff braced himself and asked, “Mrs. Knoffler, is your husband physically abusive at home?”

Rita didn’t flinch. “My husband is a good man going through hard times.”

A glimmer of intelligence flickered in the sheriff’s eyes; he was not convinced.

Rita seemed to waver for a moment, lost as to what to say next. Daniel stared into the well of his mother’s thoughts.
Was she actually considering the truth?
He knew better than to hope. Rita was not strong, at least not since John’s passing. She was terrified of loneliness and was adept at stretching the morsel of consideration Clyde bestowed her into a meal of affection.

“So, is that a yes?” the sheriff asked.

Daniel held his breath. The lawsuit, the cost of bail, these were enough to push Clyde into the zone. The world stopped on Rita’s next breath. A single assertion could end this mess—protective custody; the sheriff would shield Daniel from Clyde’s wrath.

“No,” Rita said, in a steady, strong voice. “My husband does not abuse us.”

The lie kicked Daniel as hard as Clyde’s boot. His hope deflated. His mother said it so compellingly that Daniel almost believed she was right.

“Son, is that true?” the sheriff asked him.

Daniel wondered why the sheriff asked him this in front of his mother. It wasn’t right. He looked at his mother, who still refused to acknowledge him. She was fixed on an imaginary point before her. Daniel realized Rita would waver under his pleading gaze if she turned. His mother teetered on a precipice. The sheriff realized this. Some part of her wanted to let loose.

Daniel had the power now to write a new chapter for them, but all the alternatives, all the things that might go wrong played in his head. Clyde might actually beat the rap. Daniel knew he couldn’t depend on Rita to follow through on charges. She’d waver in the face of loneliness, fear, guilt, or a missed fix. If Clyde beat the rap, he’d probably kill them. What’s more, Rita was in danger of being punished by the law, too. Besides his abuse, Clyde was involved in all sorts of welfare scams, food stamps, unemployment. She had lied about everything that was going on in that house, closed her eyes to the truth, and would be punished, maybe even jailed as an accessory after the fact.

Even if charges stuck and everything went right, a foster home loomed for Daniel and Penny; cold, industrial childrearing—guardians making a buck off the state while packs of children fight it out for attention and resources. He’d be trading one abusive jerk for a pack of smaller ones. There were no guarantees that Penny would be placed with him, so he couldn’t even keep an eye on her. And then, when Clyde got out of prison in two or three years, as her biological father he’d get Penny back anyway since he never abused her. Daniel would be long gone from the house. She’d be left to grow up with an emotional invalid for a mother and an angry ex-con psychopath for a dad. There were more reasons to maintain the status quo than to plunge them all into a legal and social upheaval.

“I just told you my husband does not—”

“Yes, sir,” Daniel cut in.

“Yes what?” the sheriff asked. “That your mother is telling the truth or that Mr. Knoffler is abusing you?”

Another chance to change—to get off the path that promised grief. Looking at his sneakers Daniel said, “My mother is telling the truth.”

Disappointed, the sheriff leaned back in his chair with an air of surrender. The boy was grateful at least for the lawman’s skeptical look. It was enough that someone important knew the truth despite the lies that were freely doled out.

Daniel realized his mother was watching him in wonder. He had every right to rat out his stepfather. Clyde would never acknowledge the boy’s loyalty, only his troubles. All the precious money Daniel was costing him would send Clyde into a rage. Clyde might kill him, even if not on purpose. Once Clyde was in the zone … Daniel realized he’d just taken his life into his own hands.

CHAPTER 14

TIME WAITS FOR NO ONE

1

Of the four, only Lelani made the journey effortlessly, pausing every so often to let the others catch up. Wind that could freeze lava whipped the snow around them, but Lelani, impervious to the chill and warmed by a seething rage, trekked on. She had left Fronik’s killers unharmed by Cal’s decree. At first she suspected he might simply be protecting his own and suppressed a lifetime of prejudice against bipedals to follow his orders. But Cal’s logic was sound, and everything she’d seen until now showed him to be a just man.

The forest soothed her. It reminded her of home, which she had been away from for three years. The parks and gardens of Aandor were poor substitutes for the Blue Forest. Too long since she was last surrounded by trees and other living greens in the wild, even hibernating ones. Her companions did not find the terrain friendly or relaxing. Cat had sprained her ankle on a loose rock coming down a hill. She piggybacked on Cal for a quarter mile until they reached a rock-strewn slope where the extra weight compromised his footing. The winter sun was waning, and they had less than an hour left before darkness covered them.

“Let me take her,” Lelani offered.

“I’m okay,” Cal said.

“You are not,” Cat argued. “The last thing you need is a broken ankle.”

“I’ve had training packs that weigh more than you,” he responded.

“Oh jeez, will you let Seabiscuit take her?” Seth argued. “I’m freezing my fucking balls off out here. We’re like the fucking Sopranos lost in the Pine Barrens.”

“My lord, you should proceed unconstrained,” Lelani said. “We don’t know what we’ll find ahead.”

Cat hopped off her husband. Standing next to Lelani, she had the overwhelming urge to avoid approaching the empty area behind the redhead.

“Your instincts are telling you there’s something your eyes are not seeing,” Lelani explained. “It’s part of the spell to make others want to avoid running into me.”

“How do I…” Cat motioned to Lelani’s back.

Lelani crouched. “Close your eyes,” she said. “Put your left hand on my left shoulder. Now reach across and grab my other shoulder. Lift your leg up.”

Lelani stood.

“Looks like a piggyback,” Seth said.

“It feels like bareback riding,” Cat said. She folded her arms across Lelani’s breastbone.

“How far?” Cal asked the centaur.

“Down this ravine and up the next h—”

A crossbow shaft suddenly pierced the forearm Cat had braced around Lelani’s shoulder. It continued through the centaur’s shoulder and broke skin on Cat’s chest. Lelani suppressed her scream with a grunt. Cat shrieked in the centaur’s ear.

“CAT!” her husband yelled. A bolt grazed Cal’s cheek, peeling a strip of skin like an orange. Seth ducked for cover.

Lelani jumped into a large ditch with Cat. The shaft had pierced beneath her clavicle and emerged out the back, where it continued to cut into Cat as they jostled. Cat slid back off the point, which ripped flesh. The tip was serrated.

“Break the end off!” Lelani yelled between sharp breaths.

Another bolt split a branch by Cal’s head. He fired in the direction of the shot.

“My lady, break off the tip!”

Cat cut her fingers on the serrated tip, trying to snap it off, but the shaft wouldn’t give. Lelani handed her a hunting knife.

“Cut through the wood.”

“Seth, can you outflank him?” Cal asked, holding out his other pistol.

Seth had found a depression behind a fair-sized boulder to crouch in.

“I’m not moving my ass from this spot!”

Cat sliced through the shaft. Lelani grabbed the end in front of her and pulled in one quick motion. Cat screamed again from the wood scraping flesh out of her forearm. She fell off the centaur and landed on her back. Her shirt was stained dark red. She began hyperventilating. Lelani washed Cat’s wound with water from her canteen. Even though Lelani was the more injured of the two, Cat was not trained to assimilate such shocks. After cleaning out the splinters, Lelani took out a vial of white powder and sprinkled it on Cat’s wound. It fizzed in the blood like sodium bicarbonate in vinegar.

“Oh God! It burns,” Cat wailed. “It feels like acid.”

“You’ll live,” Lelani told her. She was starting to feel light-headed from her own loss of blood. “Wrap the gash with cloth and apply pressure.”

“What about you?” Cat asked.

Lelani sprinkled the powder on the entrance of her own wound and handed the vial to Cat. “Pour this over the exit point.” She put a branch in her mouth and bit down hard as the powder began to sew her shredded cells together. Cat poured the rest of the powder on the sorceress. The pain was intense, so much so, Lelani spasmed and bit through the branch. They both leaned back in the hole and caught their breath. No more bolts had flown for the past few minutes. “Is anyone coming?” she asked Cat.

“I don’t know. Where’s Cal?”

Cat took a peek. A series of bolts struck the tree above their makeshift foxhole. Cat ducked.

“I couldn’t see anyone.”

“Stay down!” they heard Cal yell, a few trees over.

Lelani reached into her backpack and pulled out a five-foot composite longbow and a quiver of arrows.

“How the hell did that fit in there?” Cat asked.

“I’m a good packer.”

“Cat! Are you and Lelani okay?!” Cal had moved to a birch a few feet away and crouched low. Seth was still under his rock.

The centaur looked to Cal for instructions. He tossed his extra pistol to Cat and fell back behind the birch as a bolt slammed into the tree.

“Fire in that direction,” Cal said. “Keep them down and keep them believing we’re in this spot. Lelani and I will do the rest. Save one bullet.”

“Why?”

“If Seth tries to run away … shoot him in the ass.”

They took off. With Lelani’s speed, she could outflank the assailant in time for the captain’s frontal assault. She glided between the trees and brush, bounding over creeks and ravines with surefooted confidence of an equestrian champion. Bolts flew around her, hitting true at the places she’d been a heartbeat before. Cal fired from below, forcing the assailant’s attention on him. Lelani’s shoulder throbbed, but the pain only added to her focus. She slowed, waiting for some noise to betray the attacker’s position. Her arrow was notched and ready to fly, but there was only foliage in her sight. She spotted the captain below, making his way up a ravine. The assailant had stopped firing. The frequency and limited origin of the bolts indicated only one attacker. Was his quiver empty? Had he left for reinforcements?

A twig snapped behind her. She caught a glimpse of reddish fur from the corner of her eye. She kicked back with her hind legs, surprising the assailant. He hit the tree behind him with such force an avalanche of snow fell from its branches, burying him. Before he could gather his wits, Lelani fired a shaft into his chest, pinning him to the tree. The creature’s yowl echoed through the hills.