First Born (34 page)

The front window shattered. Rifle shots pinged through the air. Lily dove to the ground. On her hands and knees, she scrambled now with the Remington youth rifle in her hands and her pack on her back. Detective Simms had flattened himself on the steps. She wiggled up the stairs as what sounded like firecrackers went off behind her. With trembling fingers, she reached out with the key and unlocked his cuffs. Once free, he grabbed her wrists.

Seth was shooting out the front of the house. Then he drew inside to reload. She continued to stare into Caldwell Simms’s eyes attempting to read what they were telling her. She had his gun shoved in the back of her pants. He released her right wrist, cocked an eyebrow and reached around to feel her butt. He pulled out his gun and released her other wrist. Then he pushed her to the side and ran down the stairs. Seth had his back against the front wall when a woman began to shout outside.

The cop slunk to the other side of the open door across from Seth. “I know you can hear me, Lily Moore!” Lily flinched involuntarily. “Listen carefully. We have your China man. He may be alive or we may have carved him up with his fancy Kung Fu knife. Or maybe we’ve kicked him, like old dog Tray.”

A car door slammed and she heard gravel churning as the woman backed the vehicle out of the driveway. What did that last line mean?
Old Dog Tray
was a poem by Stephen Foster. She didn’t recognize the woman’s scent or voice.

As soon as the car engine faded in the distance, she ran for the jeep. “Lily!” Seth screamed from behind her. Detective Simms stood in the doorway, his gun trained on Seth.

Lily saw his clenched jaw as he stared at her, then Seth. “Where are my shoes, keys, and phone?”

Lily didn’t dare move her eyes from the cop and the gun. “They’re under the bed in my room.”

Seth’s mouth dropped open. Yeah hindsight, it was a stupid hiding place.

“Drop your weapon and go get it,” he spat.

Lily placed the rifle on the gravel drive and eased toward the house. She scooted past him then ran up the stairs to retrieve his items. Her brain whirled and whirled as she attempted to process the information. When she got back, Seth sat on the porch swing, the cop perched on the railing across from him. She placed the items on the ground in front of him. “Sit next to him.” She moved to the swing.

Hey Seth, we can take him.

The cop huffed and Seth snorted despite the tense situation. “Damn mind diarrhea,” she said.

“Don’t move!” He squatted down to put his shoes on, keeping a watchful eye on each of them. Before they knew it, he was at the SUV’s door, shouting on the phone to his lieutenant. They sat in the backseat; their weapons were on the front floorboard under the cop’s watchful eye.
Where’s the trust, the love?

Seth and Lily looked at each other. She wanted to know if he had a plan and she could read from the expression on his face he had the same question. The answer was no. Without hurting the cop in some way, they didn’t know how to get away from him.

Lily had suggested to Detective Hottie that they work together and had reached for her rifle in the driveway, but he had stepped on her hand. He then ranted that he was sick and tired of their antics. He sounded just like her dad, which sucked all the rebellion out of her at the time. She created a new name for him as he slapped cuffs from the back of his car on her and Seth, Detective Hothead.

As he tore down Alternate 75 in pursuit of the black suburban, Journey blared from the radio. She realized he didn’t know it was on.

“She got at least a five minute jump on us because I was tied up,” he yelled into the phone. When he hung up, he took the time to glare at them in the rearview mirror. “Li Liu’s life is at stake here. Do you understand that’s why I can’t arm you and say ‘hey let’s go shootin’ like some redneck?”

His impression of a southern accent was terrible. If Lily wasn’t so devastated, she would have laughed.

“Because of your stalling, we may never catch her,” he screamed over the sound of the siren and Steve Perry. He reached forward and clicked off the stereo.

Lily barely registered the greenery that sped by the window. Her brain worked over time chewing on the fat of this disaster. “Did you ever find the shooter in the woods at Li Liu’s?” That earned her another glare from the cop. He didn’t answer. “Because this whole set up feels like déjà vu.” In the mirror, she saw his forehead wrinkle. “You know, the whole gun-toting person who acts as a diversion?” Her voice trembled, because right now, Detective Simms looked like a trained killer and she wasn’t on his good side.

Seth reached across and squeezed her hand. “Sorry I called you a bird brain last night.” She shrugged. Jumping a cop in the dark wasn’t her finest moment. Now they were chasing after a black SUV. She didn’t know the person inside; she just knew they were going the wrong way.

Detective Simms slammed on the brakes as another unmarked performed a Tokyo drift in front of them and cut them off. Lily rubbed her chest where the seatbelt dug into her.

“No, no, no. Shanghai shithouses!” Caldwell Simms face flushed crimson. “Not the Cowboy. This is not happening.”

A very large man stepped out of the Crown Vic.
Is it a man or a tank?
He wore navy fatigue pants, boots, and a protective vest with GBI in yellow. His wraparound sunglasses and spiky blond hair screamed quintessential Bad Ass.

“Geez, it’s like the Terminator and GI Joe had a child,” Lily whispered. She swore the Cowboy looked up at her.

“Don’t move,” the cop growled to them before he shoved open his door and got out.

They could hear their entire exchange. “Simmmmmulator.”

“Agent Mercer.”

“Nice duds, man. The APD doing the whole casual Friday thing?” Lily bit back a chuckle. Detective Simms still wore Seth’s ratty gray sweatpants, and undershirt with his black dress shoes, no socks. “Listen, Harding’s dead. Scuba divers found him at the Philadelphia quarry in Tennessee. Found an abandoned black Suburban a mile up the road here. Helen PD is combing the fields to track the shooter.”

“Any sign of Li Liu in the car?”

“Nothing so far. Scott and Lake want you to meet them at Helen PD headquarters. We’ve set up a command station. I’m to transport your prisoners.”

Lily growled under her breath. She darted her eyes to her brother.

One eyebrow raised, Seth whispered, “Fuck this.”

Lily reached through the bucket seats of the Explorer with her cuffed hands. It took two tries to get the pack and the rifle. “Shift now Seth and hang on to me.”

She wiggled her leg, coiling the strap of the pack around her ankle before sliding the rifle strap around her neck.
Damn handcuffs,
but she didn’t have time to shift to Shih Tzu and remove them. Seth clung to the front of her shirt, cat claws digging into the material and some skin.

“Lil, I’m not sure I want to do this.”

“There’s no way I’m going with the Cowboy.”

She closed her eyes and drew on the pulsing from the crucible as the world around her started to spin, her stomach dropped out and then she plummeted down the hole in time and space.

* * *

“Yeow. Yeow.”

Lily lay flat on her back on a very hard surface. Above her loomed a diverse canopy of hickory, oak, and sycamore leaves. The hickory leaves, shaped like so many hands, framed an overcast sky. The humidity-soaked air felt suffocating.

The distinctive sound of a cat retching caught her attention. She turned her head to see her Bobtail brother draped over a branch of a Dr. Seuss tree. That’s what they had called Mimosa trees as kids because of their fluffy pink pom-pom blooms and feathery fern-like leaves.

She shook her head as she sat up. Her backpack lay in the tumbled gravel road ten feet ahead of her. When she turned to her brother, she noted her rifle hanging by its strap on a branch just below him along with his cargo shorts.

Lily kind of wished she could throw up. Teleporting always made her nauseous. Several deep cleansing breaths helped steady her nerves, stomach and woozy head.

“Yeeehaaawww, what a ride.” Seth gasped in his deep baritone. The woozy cat wore a silly grin.

“You liked that, did you?” Lily stood up. The handcuffs had disappeared.
Cool trick.
She had no idea how she did it. She retrieved the pack from the road as Seth scrambled down the tree, cargo shorts in his jaw. She turned her back while he shifted to human.

“We had to do it,” he said coming up alongside her.

“I know.”

“Who the hell was that woman?”

“I didn’t recognize her scent or voice,” Lily said.

“I smelled the Watcher too. Like she had been around him recently,” he said in a hushed voice. “I smelled his scent at Liu’s crime scene. He was there, watching them work.”

“Or working
with
them.” They stood on Tray Mountain Road, Forest Road 79. It was roughly an eight-mile stretch of curving tumbled gravel road that led to the Appalachian trails. From there, hikers trudged toward Tennessee, the summit,
or their doom if they found the Watcher.

Lily and Seth had been on this mountain as kids. The woman had said old dog Tray. Lily figured it was a hint. Tray Mountain was less than a twenty minute ride from the Quinn cabin.

They looked at the lush Georgia foliage surrounding the path. The dark canopy of trees juxtaposed with cheerful black-eyed Susans as they started their ascent. Lily had landed them about two miles from a gravel lot that led to the apex.

“You don’t think they are at the bottom, do you?” she asked.

“No. This was a good call. The sick bastard wants us to hike to the top.”

The forest felt lush and tropical like a jungle with its dense variegated flora and fauna. It contrasted drastically with the touristy town of Helen just six miles to the south. Although given the current situation, Lily much preferred walking down the cobblestone streets of the Alpine-like village...
and stopping for an ice cream at Scoop-to-Scoop Ice Cream Parlour.

Seth’s eyes widened. “You’re thinking of food right now. Really?”

Lily adjusted the rifle she carried. Seth had the Glock as they hiked the road. They both used their heightened olfactory skills to scent the area. The path finally opened into a graveled round lot. A blue SUV was the sole car. Two paths diverged: one marked by a white blaze, the other by blue.

The car was empty, at least of anything living. She turned to look at Seth, fear and rage melding into a hateful knot in her stomach. “What the fuck does he want from us?”

“Apparently he’s not an animal lover,” smirked Seth.

“This guy could be waiting in the trees for us with a sniper rifle,” she gasped.

“Ya think?” Seth asked, his blue cat eyes gleaming aquamarine in his human face.

“Kinda wish I hadn’t rebelled against the gun training Dad kept trying with us,” she said.

Seth sighed. “Oh how sweet. He left us a note.” He walked toward a piece of paper lodged under the windshield wiper.

China Man at summit.

“Well, good thing he spelled that out for us,” Lily said. “The lady that tried to bash my head in with a halberd is here too.”

According to the signboard, they started their trek up the white blaze trail at 3,850 feet. The path angled uphill with oak, hickory, and locust trees serving as sentry.

Seth carried her pack. She left her back bare in case she needed to spread her wings. A half mile in, they came upon an outcropping and boulder that looked out to the Hiawassee River basin. She stopped a moment to catch her breath. Lily wasn’t out of shape, but her nerves were making respiration difficult. “This is crazy,” she said.

“I know.”

“Maybe we should have told Detective Simms,” she said.

“So he could use the radio and notify his buddy who wants to slice and dice us?” He wiped the sweat off his face with the front of his shirt.

They turned south to continue their ascent. Tree roots provided stairs as they trekked around a left curve. To the right the ledge dropped off into woods so thick they could swallow a person whole.

Lily focused up ahead. Rosebay rhododendron bloomed light pink, creating romantic archways for their walk toward doom. As the sun struggled to break through the haze of the morning, it created a ghostly feel. Her thoughts went to Mr. Liu and if he was still alive. Seth had the Glock in hand, she the rifle. A scent filled her sinus cavities evoking a rage from within her making the crucible glow a demonic red. She detected a whisper, the slightest disturbance of air.

She lifted her rifle and stepped to Seth’s side to fire at the dark shape about twenty-five yards up the trail. She fired again and considered shifting to Bird Light, but then Seth stumbled. Lily almost tripped over him as he fell to his knees. She noticed the bright orange tassel first. Her head muddled, she looked up, but was unable to locate the Watcher again. She knelt next to Seth, placing her rifle close to her on the ground. A dart almost three inches long stuck out of his neck.

“Lily?” He attempted to move which was making things worse.
Stubborn mule.

He glowered as he registered her thought.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “God, Seth. Stay with me.” But his eyelids began to droop as she pulled at the dart. She tore some of his flesh as the end had barbs. “Crap. I’m sorry.” The situation had her more confused than ever. Some lady fired real bullets at the Quinn cabin, but the Watcher was using tranquilizer darts? Why?

She looked up again through the sunny haze, scanning the path and the surrounding woods. It was quiet. Lily tried to swallow, but her mouth was bone dry.

“Seth, you need to shift,” she pleaded. She wanted to fly and she wasn’t sure she could carry him. His eyes fixed on her. They were barely slits now. He was too out of it to shift. That’s when she started to talk in his head about the raunchiest things she could imagine. She used words she had never spoken to anyone as she described parts of women. Images went through her head that would make Hugh Hefner blush.

Seth opened a bleary eye and looked at her too sedated to express shock at her. It worked. He shifted to feline form. The cat lay limp as a rag doll in the dirt. Well now she knew at least one of Seth’s triggers. Hadn’t he insinuated as much in his college shifting story about his “first time?”