The Dark Remains (55 page)

She was right. Grace grabbed his arm. “Listen to her, Travis. We have to—”

Her words were cut short as something dark and heavy struck her from the side.

Grace rolled to the pavement, stones and bits of broken glass gouging into her hands and cheeks. A sunburst of agony exploded in her stomach, radiating outward from her solar plexus. She managed to raise her head, grimacing in pain, unable to breathe.

It crouched over her, maw open. Ichor drooled from tusklike fangs. It ran a talon over her chest almost gently, as if deciding exactly where to make the incision. Then it pulled its spindly arm back, talons extended, ready to tear her guts out.

The air shimmered behind the
gorleth
. Before it could
strike, its arm bent at a queer angle, eliciting a sharp
crack
. The thing threw its head back to scream, but there was another blur, and its head twisted on its neck. The
gorleth
slumped to the asphalt next to Grace. The air grew smooth, and Vani was there.

“Travis!” she called out. “Drop. Now!”

Twenty feet away, Grace saw Travis fling himself to the ground. A snarling shape lunged for him. Vani extended her arm in a precise motion, and a trio of small objects flew out from her coiled hand. Only when they struck their target did Grace see what they were: three sharp triangles of steel.

The
gorleth
staggered back from Travis, the steel triangles protruding from its chest. It scrabbled at them with its talons, ripping its own flesh, then toppled backward onto the asphalt. The creature convulsed a moment, then grew still, foam bubbling from its gaping mouth. The triangles had not bitten deep. Grace didn’t need to ask to know they had been poisoned.

At last she drew in a ragged breath. The two
gorleths
that had attacked them were dead, but where had they come from? Then her eyes moved to the roof of the building.

“Yes,” Vani said. “They came at us from above. You must go before more follow.”

She helped Grace up. Travis had climbed to his feet. He started to speak, but at that moment the door of the building flew outward with a sound like thunder. Huddled in a black ball, five
gorleths
loped toward them across the parking lot.

In an instant, Grace judged the distances and made the calculations. Even Vani would not be able to move swiftly enough. The
gorleths
would reach Travis first. She steeled herself, preparing to watch her friend get torn to bits.

A sound rose on the air like a scream. The sound grew
louder, and something swung into view around the corner of the building. There was a deep roar, followed by another squeal. In a green flash the thing hurtled forward. The
gorleths
turned their heads, their lidless eyes staring, just in time to see it strike them.

Five hairy bodies flew through the air, gangly limbs flung wide. Blood sprayed out in a glittering arc, misting Travis with crimson as he turned his head away. The
gorleths
seemed to hover in midair, so long that for a terrible moment Grace thought the things could fly. Then they came crashing to the pavement in five tangled, oozing heaps. They did not get up.

The thing raced back around in a tight circle. Only as it squealed to a halt between her and the others did realization cut through Grace’s dullness. It was a truck—a big, green, double-cab pickup truck, blood smearing its now-dented front hood. Two rifles were nestled in a gun rack mounted on the back window, and a rainbow air freshener swung wildly beneath the rearview mirror. On the truck’s front bench sat two men.

No, not men, Grace. Look at the hats. They’re cowboys
.

The lean man on the passenger side let out a whoop as he squinted through the windshield with crinkly blue eyes. “Now that’s what I call roadkill, Mitchell.”

The driver didn’t answer him. Instead, he turned to gaze at Grace through the window, his eyes serious behind wire-rimmed glasses.

“Need a lift, ma’am?” he said in a deep, melodious drawl.

Travis glanced out the rear window of the pickup, but all he saw were cars and pavement. The industrial building was at least a mile behind them now. Even if the Scirathi had ordered the
gorleths
to pursue, they could not run so far so fast. He felt another hand squeeze his. Grace. He forced himself to turn around.

“So, Travis,” Davis Burke-Favor said, leaning over the back of the front seat, “are you going to introduce us to your friends or not?”

They had all tumbled into the back bench of the pickup in a frenetic dash to escape before more of the creatures burst out the door of the building, and Mitchell had peeled out of the parking lot before they were completely inside.

“This is Grace Beckett,” Travis said. “She’s a doctor. And this is Vani. She’s …”

His words faltered. What exactly
was
Vani. A spy? A protector?

“I am their friend,” Vani said.

Travis gazed at her. She raised a single eyebrow, and he smiled.

“That she is,” he said.

Davis tipped his gray Stetson, his lean, tanned face crinkling again in a grin. “Pleased to meet you both.”

“All right, Travis,” Grace said. “Now it’s our turn.”

She leaned back on the seat, her face pale, her ash-blond hair a snarled mess, but her eyes strangely brilliant.
Her face was scraped in several places, and Davis’s handkerchief was wrapped around one of her hands, which had been bleeding after her fall.

Travis finished the introductions. “Grace, Vani, these are friends of mine from Castle City, Davis and Mitchell Burke-Favor. The funny one who laughs at everything is Davis. The good-looking one with the radio voice is Mitchell.”

“See, Davis?” Mitchell drawled, not taking his eyes off the road as he drove. “I told you I was the handsome one.”

“No, you’re the old one.”

“I’m just getting better with age.”

“That’s not fair. I’m handsome, too.”

“No, you heard the man. You’re the funny one.”

“That’s funny as in comedic—you know, the life of the party. Not funny-looking.” Davis looked back over the seat. “Isn’t that right, Travis?”

Travis glanced at Vani and Grace. “In case you couldn’t tell, they’re sort of together.”

“I believe we had gathered that fact,” Vani said, a faint smile on her dark red lips.

“That obvious?” Davis said.

Grace nodded. “The his-and-his rifles are dead giveaways.”

Davis let out a hoot of mirth, slapping the seat, and even Travis laughed, though it hurt; his lungs still ached from their mad sprint. Then, gradually, his laughter dwindled.

“So how did you know? How did you know where we were, and that we needed help?”

Mitchell’s eyes were puzzled in the rearview mirror. “You mean you didn’t know she called us?”

“Who called you?”

“It was your Denver friend, Marji.”

Travis felt Grace’s hand tighten around his.

“Marji called you?” she said. “When?”

Davis checked his watch. “Must have been a bit over two hours ago. As soon as Mitchell hung up, we hopped in the truck, and Mitchell drove like a shot down the canyons.”

Travis looked at Grace, but she shrugged. She didn’t know either why Marji would have called. Travis didn’t even know how she had known about Davis and Mitchell—

—and then he remembered her question, wondering who might know about them, and Travis had mentioned his friends up in Castle City. She must have remembered, then gotten the number from information. But that still didn’t explain why.

Travis folded his arms on the back of the seat. “What did she tell you?”

“Not a lot,” Mitchell said. “Just that you were in trouble, and where we could find you. She said you’ve been … that you’ve been somewhere far away, and that you need to get back. Only that pack of wolves from Duratek have something you need. And a friend of yours, too. Is that right?”

Travis gripped cracked vinyl. “That’s pretty much it.”

“You have put yourselves in great danger by coming here,” Vani said.

Davis made a dismissive wave. “It was nothing, ma’am. Mitchell will bang those dents right out of the hood. Won’t be the first time.”

“Thanks to your driving,” Mitchell said.

“Hey, it’s not my fault half the bucks in the valley are suicidal.” He glanced back at Grace. “You’re a doctor, ma’am. Is there such a thing as Prozac for deer?”

“I’d suggest counseling,” she said. “They might have elk envy. You know, bigger antlers.”

That elicited another whoop.

“Travis,” Mitchell said, his deep voice solemn, “there’s something else you need to know.”

At once Davis’s laughter ceased. Mitchell kept talking.

“On the way out of Castle City we saw something, on Summit Road. I think you know it, Travis. Dirt road, runs just east of our ranch. Just about no one uses it these days except for us, and only when we want a shortcut to the highway. But today we saw a car, and a couple of those black-suited men.”

Travis said the word through clenched teeth. “Duratek.”

“That’s right. We know the two. They came by our ranch looking for you a couple of days after you called us. We didn’t tell them anything. But then we saw you on TV, just for a second, in a news story about that new cathedral they’re building in downtown Denver, so we called Deputy Windom. And …”

Mitchell’s melodious voice faltered.

“What is it?” Travis said, his mouth dry and metallic.

Davis answered. “There was a sheriff’s vehicle next to the black-suits’ car. We saw her, leaning out the window, talking to them. It was—”

Connections sizzled in Travis’s brain. “It was Jace—Deputy Windom. She’s been talking to Duratek. That’s how they found out Grace and I were in Denver.”

“I don’t know why she’d do it, Travis,” Mitchell said, eyes sad. “I don’t know why she’d deal with those wolves.”

But Travis did. She had loved Max, and Max had burned. Because of Travis.

He leaned back, rubbing his right hand. How many more people would be drawn into the web around him? How many more people would be harmed because of what Jack had done to him?

You should never have come
, he wanted to tell Davis and Mitchell.
You should keep away from me
. But his tongue was so dry he couldn’t form the words.

Davis scratched his neck. “So, do you mind if I ask what those animals were back there? Whatever zoo they escaped from, I think they’ve been feeding on toxic waste in the meantime.”

Grace sat up straight. “That’s it. That’s why they
looked so familiar. They’ve taken Earth animals and altered them.” She curled a hand beneath her chin. “But how? Cloning? There’s no time to have grown adult animals from embryos. Gene therapy—that has to be it. Encase the genetic material in a virus, infect them, or use some other vector to introduce it. But what genome have they been using? It can’t … it can’t be local.”

Davis’s forehead wrinkled, pushing up his hat. “So does she always talk like a mad scientist?”

“Pretty much,” Travis said.

“Sorry,” Grace said with a chagrined look. “It’s just that you made me realize something, Davis. They did look like chimpanzees, didn’t they?”

Travis understood what she was getting at. The
gorleths
had been chimpanzees … at least they had been once. But they had been changed, just like the Necromancers changed the Little People into
feydrim
. Only what had been used to alter them? He thought of their pale, slanted, too-large eyes. But there was only one thing he had ever seen that had eyes like that. And they were gone, they had to be. He had healed them with Sinfathisar.

He opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say, but Vani spoke instead.

“The Seekers.” She gazed past Travis, at Grace. “They do not know what has happened.”

Grace smacked her forehead. “We were supposed to call them.” She fumbled in the backpack Travis had been carrying, and which held his few precious objects: Jack’s dagger, and his mistcloak. Grace pulled out the cellular phone Farr had given them. She punched a button, held it to her ear.

“It’s me,” she said.

Travis watched her as she listened. He could hear the faint buzz of a man’s voice emanating from the phone. Farr—although Travis could not hear what he was saying.

It happened suddenly. Grace’s fingers went white around
the phone, and her eyes grew dull. She listened another minute, then nodded.

“We’re coming,” she said, then lowered the phone.

Travis took the phone from her, switched it off. Something was terribly wrong. “What is it, Grace?”

She gazed out the window. “Marji is dead. There was a fire at her shop about two hours ago.” She turned her gaze on Mitchell and Davis. “It must have been just after she called you.”

Travis fought for understanding. Marji—tall, outrageous, gorgeous Marji.… Dead? Rage rose in him, only to be crushed down by a ponderous sorrow. Once again someone who had dared to help him had paid for the deed with her life.

“How?” was all he could say. But he already knew.

“Duratek,” Grace said. “Farr thinks one of their agents followed us to Marji’s and heard us talking. He thinks that’s how they knew about our plan, and why they evacuated the complex.”

Vani peered at the blur of grimy buildings outside the window. “But where have they gone?”

“Boulder. On Highway 128.” Grace leaned forward, her head next to Mitchell’s. “We’ve got to go there.”

Travis struggled to keep up with her words. “How do you know that’s where they are?”

“I don’t. It’s what Farr said. He and Deirdre are on their way. We’ve got to follow them. Now.”

“Boulder it is, ma’am,” Mitchell drawled.

All of them were flung to one side of the cab as he turned hard on the wheel, swinging the truck onto the dirt median. Dust and gravel flew as the vehicle spun in a half circle. Then Mitchell double-shifted and punched the accelerator, and they were flung back against the seat as the pickup lunged forward. It sped in the opposite direction now, gray mountains looming in the windshield.

This time it was Mitchell who was grinning, his brown
eyes sparkling behind his wire glasses in the rearview mirror. “That was a little trick I learned herding cattle on my grandfather’s ranch in Montana.”