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Authors: A. M. Jenkins

Night Road (12 page)

BOOK: Night Road
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Cole felt a chill.
What lay behind eyes that were empty, like marbles?

He’d been wondering about hemes, though, not omnis. That was completely different.

“That’s an interesting question,” he said from the mattress.
Okay,
he was thinking,
Okay. I’ve got to go back and talk to Sandor.
And then he would call Johnny. Johnny would want to come out and see the situation for himself. Johnny would be able to tell whether this guy was for real or not.

In any case, this would be resolved within a few days at most. All he had to do was disengage, and leave on good terms.

“I speak to them sometimes, very softly,” Royal was saying. “I ask them what they see. Of course, no one’s answered yet. I wonder if they see a tunnel of light. I wonder what they feel. Do they have souls? What do you think?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think perhaps they
don’t.
When the spark goes out of their eyes, they go out, too, like a candle flame. Yes, like a candle flame.” He seemed pleased with his own turn of phrase. “But then, when I think about those moments right before their eyes turn into little flowers, I wonder. I do
wonder
about those moments between. My,” he added with a laugh, “I am talkative, aren’t I? I think it’s because the same thoughts have been banging
around in my brain for so long, with no one to understand. And my thoughts are such
good
thoughts, such interesting ideas.”

“Good,” Cole agreed. “And interesting.” He couldn’t quite figure out
how
to leave. If this guy was telling the truth, maybe Cole shouldn’t leave him at all.

If
he was telling the truth.

“Listen, Royal,” Cole said. “I have to say that I think it might be in your best interest not to kill om—humans.”

“Why?”

Because I don’t want you murdering people while the Colony decides what to do with you.
“I was just thinking that perhaps we owe them a certain respect? After all, our lives are dependent on theirs.”

“They die anyway,” Royal pointed out. “A few years more, a few years less—it’s all the same, isn’t it? I
help
them. I give them a little intensity. I make them feel something. And it makes
me
feel something, to watch them. Why should I stop?”

Ethics aside
, Cole thought, and added out loud, “If you’re caught—”

“Oh, yes—if I’m caught. Do you think they’ll try to kill me?” He seemed oddly excited by the idea.

Nuttier than a fruitcake
. “You’re bound to be pulled into the sunlight if they catch you,” Cole pointed out.

“I’m afraid of sunlight,” Royal said, looking even more excited. “I’ve battled the sun, you know. Have you?”

“No.”

“Don’t. It’s quite painful; you wouldn’t be able to bear it. You would probably turn to ashes and blow away. That’s what happens in the movies—but then, the movies exaggerate so many things. Reflections, for example—can you see yourself in a mirror?”

“Yes,” Cole told him.

“So can I. And—have you ever turned yourself into a bat?”

“No.”

Royal nodded, looking pleased that Cole had not surpassed him in bat-changing abilities. Cole could see that he was using this opportunity to measure himself, to test the opinion he’d formed about his place in the world.

That opinion was a bit
elevated,
to say the least.

“I’m sure I’ll be terribly afraid if I am forced into sunlight.” Royal was no longer looking at Cole; his eyes had an intense, almost blind expression—similar, Cole realized, to the look omnis had during moments of sexual pleasure. “I’ll scream, too, I warrant. Can you imagine
feeling something so intensely that it makes you scream? I’ll certainly feel something then. Oh, I know what you’re thinking, Zeke.” He focused on Cole again. “You’re thinking that if you drive a stake into my heart, I’ll feel something. You’re right, of course. Oh, don’t deny it; I see it in your face. I knew I was courting danger by bringing you here. After all, we are in competition for the same prey, are we not? But when you get to be my age, you’ll have learned a few things. You’ll have learned that it all fades into one big blur. You’ll have to struggle to keep from being dead inside. There will come a point at which you have to make yourself
feel
.”

Cole had a sudden vision of himself flipping through his photos.

Or floating in the pool, wondering what it would be like to drown.

Stop it. This guy is trying to shake you.

“You either become a blur,” Royal informed him, “or you make a game of it; you walk a tightrope on the edge of oblivion. That’s the choice. And I can tell you that walking the tightrope is
delicious.

You’re
nothing
like this guy,
Cole told himself.

“Do
you
have a soul, Zeke?” Royal asked, looking straight at Cole.

Did
he? How could he? Whatever was alive about him had been sealed to every cell and neuron, entwined and absorbed so that it would never be freed.

It was an effort, but Cole did not look away. “I don’t know,” he answered.

“Do you think
your
eyes will turn into little flowers?”

Was it a threat? Or a game, a cat-and-mouse game? Was Royal crazy? Or posturing?

A struggle to keep from being dead inside.

Talk to Sandor—
that’s
what Cole had decided to do next. Not sit here listening to this guy jabber. Cole would have to call Johnny—but first he must go back to Sandor.

Cole stood up, the mattress giving under his feet. “My friends will be expecting me. But I see that I have much to learn,” he added carefully. “I’d like to come back in a little while, if I may. Will you wait here for me?”

“You don’t have to go at all, Zeke. You can stay with me if you want. Your friends must be quite a burden to you.”

Now that Cole was standing, he felt more in control. “I’m sorry, I can’t leave them.”

Royal considered. “Very well. You may bring them, if you want.”

Cole wondered for a crazy split second whether he ought to bow and back his way out of the apartment. No. Even Royal might see the insincerity in that.

So he turned and walked across the room, listening for the sound of sudden movement, every muscle tensed for the feel of a hand on his back or shoulder.

But Royal did not follow.

As Cole reached for the doorknob, he looked back to see the blue eyes regarding him. He’d never imagined that eyes that color could look so flat and frigid.

“I shall await you,” Royal said, again giving that regal nod.

Cole nodded back, but said nothing as he stepped out onto the concrete landing. He pulled the door shut, and when he heard it click, that was one barrier between them.

The stairs were another.

The cars in the parking lot were a third.

He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until it all came out in a heavy sigh.

The Poop Deck’s sign glowed red and white. He checked his watch. He’d been with Royal for less than thirty minutes.

“I
learned exactly nothing,” Cole told Sandor. They spoke in low voices, even though they were outside, standing by Cole’s car in front of the Laundromat, having left The Poop Deck behind. Each watched the apartment building across the street; but Cole also kept glancing behind him, where Gordo was alone inside the Laundromat, shoveling his wet laundry into the dryer. Not that anything was likely to go wrong in a Laundromat. It was just that Cole felt he had to keep an eye on his charge.

But he did not want Gordo to hear this conversation either, and that’s why they were standing outside. “My initial reaction,” he told Sandor, “is that this guy represents a danger, at least to omnis. But I may just have been creeped out.”

“If
you
were creeped out, that says something about the situation.”

“But he
wanted
me to be creeped out. That was his intention. I’m betting it threw him off to learn that there were other hemes around. I think at least part of it was an act. But,” Cole added, “it disturbs me to think there’s a possibility he may really be doing the things he said. I made a mistake. I should have figured out something to do with Gordo so that you could come with me. You barely even got to see the guy.”

“I saw the finger guard though. Loved the finger guard.”

It took a great deal to faze Sandor. His perpetual good humor was like an anchor. If Sandor had been with him, Cole realized now, he likely wouldn’t have gotten rattled. “I want to get your take on him,” he told Sandor.

“I can’t wait to see his
lair.

“It’s on a par with the places we used to stay, back in the old days,” Cole told Sandor. “Remember the flophouses?”

“Easy feeds,” Sandor commented.

“Yes. But the flophouses were full of people. Royal lives alone.” Was that good or bad, Cole wondered.

“So our little friend likes killing,” Sandor mused.

“He
said
so. Whether he actually does what he says is another matter.”

“I’m leaning toward no,” Sandor said. “It seems unlikely that he could go around leaving a trail of dead bodies behind him without getting caught.”

Cole had to agree, now, standing out here. It didn’t make sense that a stray could survive with that kind of behavior. Cole had been thrown, too, caught off guard by some of the things the stray had said. He’d let it get to him. Hadn’t used his head.

“Let’s hope he’s just…theatrical,” Sandor added.

“He
is
that,” Cole said.

After some discussion, they decided it wasn’t wise to leave Gordo behind at the Laundromat. They’d drive over to Royal’s apartment, park in view of the front door, and make Gordo wait in the car. Cole and Sandor would enter the apartment together.

“Um. Should I be worried?” Gordo asked as Cole pulled up to the apartment building.

“No,” Cole told Gordo. “Just be cautious.”

“About what?” Gordo leaned forward. “Does this guy have like,
powers
or something?”

He was quite in earnest. Cole heard Sandor bite back a snort of laughter.

“Of course not,” Cole said in disgust. “Nobody has ‘powers.’ Jesus. Just stay in the car, all right? And lock the doors behind us,” he added, as he got out of the car.

He and Sandor went up the metal stairs. At the top Cole led the way along the concrete balcony, stopping at the entrance to the lair.

The apartment door wasn’t latched. It wasn’t even shut, but stood a few inches ajar.

He and Sandor exchanged a glance. Cole knocked softly on the jamb. There was no response from inside.

“You sure this is the right apartment?” Sandor asked.

“Number twenty-four.” Cole waited another moment, then pushed the door slowly open.

The mattress was there, but the sleeping bag was gone.

They walked in. Sandor looked around at the bare floors and walls, the empty counters visible in the kitchen. “Do you think you scared him off?”

Cole didn’t answer. He went to check the bathroom. No toiletries, no towels. Not even a shower curtain.

He came back out. He said nothing, just shook his head:
No sign
.

“I believe our little friend has scampered,” Sandor said.

“Let’s wait in the car for a while,” Cole told him, “see if he comes back. Maybe he just went to feed or something. The sun doesn’t rise for another three or four hours.”

“And if he doesn’t show?”

“We should check back again tomorrow, just in case.”

“What about
our
feeds?”

“Gordo already fed. It won’t hurt you and me to skip a night.”

They left the front door ajar, just the way it had been, and went back down the stairs. “What did you
do
to the little fellow, Cole?” Sandor asked.

“Nothing. I didn’t do a thing.”

“I think you frightened him. Maybe he’s shy.”

Maybe he’s crazy
, Cole thought.

They waited in the car. Around three thirty, Sandor walked Gordo over to collect his clothes. An hour or so before dawn, Cole went up and checked the apartment one last time. Still empty.

When he was alone in his hotel room, Cole called Johnny. He described the stray, gave his impressions,
and repeated their conversation as best he could. “I’ll check the apartment again on the way out tomorrow,” he told Johnny, “just to make sure.”

Johnny had listened intently, making no comments, but now he said, “Was the door unlocked when he first took you to the apartment?”

“No, he unlocked it.”

“With a key?”

“Yes.”

“And you said he had a mattress, and left it behind?”

It seemed rather an odd thing to focus on. “Yes.”

“How big was it?”

“Twin size.”

“What was it made of?”

“It was…I don’t know. It was just a mattress from a bed.”

“So it couldn’t be rolled up and carried with him. And there was no other furniture?”

“No, just the mattress and the sleeping bag. Why?”

“I’m just trying to figure out how he gets around. He travels light—sounds like he could easily be on foot. But he had a key—so it’s likely he was paying rent.”

“Maybe he stole the key.”

“Maybe. That’s quite a risk, to squat in someone else’s apartment. Even if it was unoccupied, it could easily
get
occupied at any time. Anyway, I’m thinking that if that’s really his home base, and he’s on foot, he may come back. But if he has a car, he’s mobile. And he could be anywhere by now.”

“Do you want us to head back to New York so we can discuss it with the group?” Cole asked.

“I don’t see any point. There’s
not
really anything to discuss right now. Nothing to make any decisions about. The only thing we can do is look around online to see if we can find any mention of him. Of things he might have done. You just keep on with Gordon.”

“Gordo.”

“What?”

“He likes to be called Gordo.”

“Oh. Okay. Anyway, I’ll let you know if we find anything. Royal sounds like a right crackpot.”

“He was…weird.”

“They all are,” Johnny said. “But this one may be functioning in society, at least enough to have an apartment.”

“I suppose.” The apartment had looked barely functional to Cole. More like a roof over the guy’s head than a home.

No wait, it was a
lair.

“If he’s there tomorrow,” Johnny went on, “try not to scare him off. I want to talk to him myself.”

“All right,” said Cole.

“And if you don’t mind, I’d like you to check back and let me know either way.”

“I will.”

“Talk to you tomorrow then.”

“Yes…but listen, I wanted to ask you something,” Cole said, then hesitated. “Well…never mind.”

“No, go ahead,” said Johnny.

“Do you think we have souls?”

Silence. It
was
an odd question to ask out of the blue, Cole knew.

He wished he hadn’t brought it up right now. This was a subject more suited to leisurely evenings on the patio at the Building.

“I think it’s a moot point,” Johnny said after another moment.

“I know it is. We can talk about it another time.” Later, in New York—where it was likely to turn into a long philosophical debate.

But Johnny continued. “For us, what we have here is all we’re ever going to have. That’s why we maintain
relationships with our fellow hemes. Otherwise there’s no difference between
our
existence and that of, say, a tree or a rock. And,” he added, “I have to say that if a short meeting with a stray could get you questioning
your
place in the world, it was a good job you kept him away from Gordon. Gordo,” he corrected himself. “Anyway, call and let me know if he comes back or not.”

“Yes,” said Cole. “I’ll call.”

But the next evening the apartment was still empty.

Royal the stray was also a moot point.

BOOK: Night Road
11.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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