The Reviver (48 page)

They ran until they felt they were far enough, to the edge of a parking lot at the side of the facility. They fell to their knees.

There were people on the burning roof screaming.

‘Christ,’ croaked Never. ‘Jesus Christ.’

36

The three of them lay down beside Tess, gasping, their smoke-filled lungs barely able to draw enough breath. Feeling a hard lump dig into his back, Never pulled Hannerman’s gun and the original remote detonator from his back pockets. He tossed the gun to one side, and stared at the detonator. Beside him, Tess groaned and began to stir.

‘Can’t we help anyone?’ Never said. ‘Isn’t there anything we can do?’

Jonah, wheezing, stood beside him and watched the horror before him. ‘No,’ he said. He could see that Never was crying. He realized he was crying too.

‘Listen!’ said Annabel, standing. There were sirens. Annabel collapsed in a hail of coughs. Jonah went to help her, wondering if he would ever be able to tell her the answer that Julia Hannerman had given him to that final question.
Why did they leave Daniel Harker to die?

He caught a glimpse of movement behind him. He looked. So did Annabel. It was Tess, disorientated, standing. Angry, and in tears. Pointing Hannerman’s gun at Never with shaking hands.

‘
What did you do? What did you do?
’ she yelled at Never, who was suddenly aware of the remote he was holding. He let it drop to the ground and held up his hands. He glanced at Jonah, then stepped forward. ‘We didn’t do this! It was Hannerman’s sister. It wasn’t
us.
’

‘
What have you done?
’

Jonah felt a terrible fear crawl across his heart. Tess was confused, distraught. But she’d seen Never holding a remote detonator, and all of Unity was dying. All but her. And she blamed Never.

‘Stop!’ Jonah called. He stepped in front of the gun. ‘Tess? Please. This wasn’t us. Please.’

Tess’s arm lowered just a little. ‘Where’s Michael?’

Jonah shook his head.

‘He could have fought it,’ she said quietly. ‘He could have won. We could have
fixed
it, couldn’t we?’

Jonah stepped towards her. ‘Please, Tess. Please.’

‘You wanted him dead.’ She said it decisively and raised the gun again. ‘You wanted him
dead.
You can’t say you didn’t.’

‘Please, Tess.’ He took another step. ‘He did fight it. And he won the only way he could.’

She looked at him, and he saw understanding there. Screams drew her eye to the rooftop. Jonah turned as well. When he turned back, she was running.

He made to follow.

‘Let her go,’ said Never.

Jonah paused for an instant, but for all her faults, he and Tess shared a bond. He had been lost and alone once, and she had been there to help him. Now, it was his turn to help her. ‘I want to make sure she knows she’s not alone,’ he said, and he went after her.

She was heading through the rows of vehicles in the parking lot, towards the road. Jonah was a few rows back, just about keeping her in sight as she weaved. The lot was broken up by strips of vegetation, young trees and bushy foliage. Tess disappeared through the middle of one, and Jonah froze as he got close and saw her stop and turn to see something on her right, raising the gun again. She was speaking. He crept close enough to hear, ducking by the front of a four-by-four for extra cover. A gap in the greenery gave him line of sight.

‘… son of a bitch,’ she said.

A man in a dark suit came in to view, his back to Jonah. Tess kept the gun trained on him, but from his stance Jonah could tell he was aiming a weapon right back at her.

‘Come with me, Tess,’ said the man.

‘Keep away from me.’

‘We’ve been watching you. Keeping an eye on things. Wanting to know exactly what the hell you people are up to. Don’t tell me you’re surprised. We officially have you pegged as delusional, but believe me, Tess, contact with
unknowns
is a national security issue like no other.’

‘Did you make this happen?’

‘The fire? Christ, no. We had enough coverage on Andreas to know something big was going down, that whatever he’d been planning all this time was finally under way. I knew I had to be here, but right now I have no idea what’s gone on tonight, just that you’re one of the only people to come out of it. Now please, come with me. We’ll protect you. We’re the only ones you can trust.’

The man slowly moved his hands up, opening them and letting the gun hang loose. He took it by the barrel with his left hand and set it on the ground.

Jonah watched Tess’s face. She was considering the offer.
No,
he thought. If Tess went with him, Jonah knew the kind of protection they meant. Under lock and key.

Tess started to lower her gun. Jonah knew he could give her a chance, if he wanted. Indecision, but only for a moment. He knew what Never’s opinion would have been: hell of a risk to take for a woman who’d treated you like shit.

He thought back to when he’d taken down Felix Hannerman, the momentum of his charge being all that was needed. He started to run, pushing hard to get his speed up, keeping as quiet as he could. The man only started to turn as he reached him, the shock of recognition on both their faces as Jonah’s arms clamped tightly around him. Kendrick hit the asphalt, hard.

‘Run, Tess,’ Jonah shouted, and Tess was away, the gate to the road visible ahead. He caught movement to his right, and suddenly realized that another man had been there all along, twenty feet away, hidden from his view while he’d been watching Tess and Kendrick face each other down.

The man was reaching for his gun, bringing it up, aiming …

Jonah leapt to his feet and stood in the way, holding out a hand, palm up. ‘
No,
’ he shouted.

There was a sound, a crack. He took a breath and it hurt.

The other man lowered his gun, shaking his head, irritated.

Jonah turned to see Tess reach the gate, run across light traffic. Disappear through a thin line of people who had formed, watching the fire engulf the facility.

His legs lost all strength and he fell to his knees, then to his side. The pain grew. He saw his chest. There was blood. He couldn’t move, only able to breathe in agonizing shallow hitches.

The second man started towards the gate.

‘Leave her,’ said Kendrick, kneeling beside Jonah. He looked like he had a bad taste in his mouth. ‘We’ll pick her up soon enough.’

‘What about this one, sir? Do we finish him? Put him out of reach?’

Kendrick looked appalled. ‘I know him. He’s one of the good guys.’ He paused for a second, thinking. ‘We take him with us. Whether he lives or dies, I want to know what the hell he was doing here.’

‘He knows who you are?’

‘Nobody does. We don’t exist.’ Kendrick raised his arm towards his mouth. ‘Pickup at gate B,’ he said into his sleeve. Then he listened. His expression changed. ‘When? You’re sure? We’re on our way.’ He looked to his subordinate. ‘Come on. Change of plan. We leave this one here, see what he tells the police.’

‘What happened?’

Kendrick shrugged. ‘We got lucky.’ One last look at Jonah. ‘I guess someone had to be.’

Jonah heard them stride away, unable to tell how much time passed before shouts and footsteps approached.

Annabel and Never sat by him, calling his name, crying and desperate.

‘
No,
’ Never said. ‘
Stay awake.
’

Jonah could hear sirens grow louder. There were vehicles now, reaching the building. Fire trucks. Ambulances.

But he felt so tired.

‘
Jonah, please hold on.
Help’s here. Help’s here.’ Annabel’s voice. Hearing it, Jonah felt regret.

He was tired.

‘
Please.
’

It was time to sleep.

37

He was nowhere.

Unaware of his body, yet aware of something around him. Some kind of
space.
Some kind of
void.
He tried to speak, but nothing happened. He felt a pang at the memory of Annabel’s voice, at the thought of Never Geary’s profound grin. He missed them.

A sliver of fear crept in. He imagined what it would be like to be in this curious place, and have a presence, large and predatory, encircle him as it had done with Eldridge’s subject, Ruby. He could almost see it, a huge black shark invisible against the darkness.

But there was nothing here, not now. The fear slipped away. He was calm. He wondered what came next.

A different fear hit then, a sudden vertigo, that perhaps this was all. Unending awareness, stretching out into eternity, just as the Thirteen had endured. The thought was terrifying.

No,
he thought.
That was not what the dead report. They don’t say they’ve been thinking, reminiscing for hours or weeks. They say they were aware only for a brief time, just before …

Just before they were revived.

There was a rush of noise and light, too brief to understand. Then darkness again, silence.

He wondered who was doing it. It certainly wouldn’t be Pru Dryden. Either she’d been in the building when it went up or – more likely – long gone with her money. Nor would it be Jason Shepperton, vacationing as he recovered from his wounds. Stacy Oakdale, perhaps, but the likelihood was that it would be someone new, someone he didn’t know.

He wondered what they would ask him. He had to be brought back, of course. The situation was too extreme to leave him unquestioned, even if it would achieve nothing. He’d handled many cases himself that had been little more than formalities. Would they want him to verify the story that two other reliable witnesses gave? And what good would the verification be? The heart of their story would be dismissed as the ravings of an obsessed group. Unity may have believed themselves the hosts of ancient souls, but nobody else would.

Brought back to be asked meaningless questions. Brought back to say good-bye.

I don’t want to come back,
he thought.
Please.

The pulling became stronger.
This is the moment,
he thought.
Here it comes.

Fragments of memory came to him. He was sitting in a muddy field, staring at the sky, his dead mother in the car behind him. He was holding Daniel Harker’s decayed hand in a cold room. He was seeing Sam’s grey face, his jeans soaked in blood. He was running from Alice Decker’s revival. He was in Baseline, crying into Tess Neil’s handkerchief. He was waking in his apartment to find Tess had left while he slept. He was watching the bus bear down on the car, hearing his mother’s quiet voice:
No.

Please,
he thought.
Let me sleep. Let me go.

Another burst. So much noise. It lasted longer, this time. He felt like he was being dragged. He wanted to stay where he was. Bright light flooded him, and he cried out in silence.

*   *   *

He opened his eyes.

He was lying in tall grass, a bright hazy sky above him. It was warm.

He stood, the grass up to his knees. He took in the scene around him, recognition hitting. The field where he’d brought back his mother. It had been a dismal mud slick the last time. His stepfather’s car was there, battered, rusted, its very presence the give-away that this wasn’t real.

‘Am I dead?’ he said aloud.

‘No,’ said a voice behind him.

Jonah turned to see Daniel Harker, looking exactly as he’d looked in the jacket photo Jonah remembered, with his long dark coat.

Daniel smiled at him. ‘I mean, if
you’re
dead, what does that make
me
? Hell, if I’m the figment of somebody’s imagination, seems damn unfair if they haven’t got the decency to be alive.’

Jonah smiled. ‘It’s good to finally see you, Daniel. In person.’ He held out a hand and they shook. ‘I’m sorry, though. About what Julia Hannerman said.’

Daniel shook his head. ‘I wanted to know. Not your fault it didn’t make good listening.’

Jonah looked around, marvelling at the detail of it all, wondering what this was. Not the preamble to revival, he felt certain of that. It had to be some kind of dream, albeit unlike any he’d ever had. ‘It feels so real.’

‘Tell me about it,’ said Daniel, looking at his own hand with the same expression of amazement.

‘Daniel, there was something … something Andreas said. Well, the creature that took him. What it said about every victim it had consumed living within it. It reminded me…’

‘Of remnants. Of me.’

Jonah nodded.

‘I don’t know what that damn thing was, Jonah, but it’s dead now. Gone.’

Jonah said nothing. He didn’t know if he believed it.

‘I wonder,’ said Jonah, running his hand over the top of the grass stems. ‘I wonder why
here?
This place.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Daniel. ‘But maybe you should make the most of it.’ With a nod, he indicated behind Jonah.

He turned and saw her. Uninjured, smiling in a way he’d not seen since his father had died. He stared at her, not daring to believe.

‘I don’t understand,’ he said to Daniel.

‘Maybe it’s what’s left of her, in your mind. The pieces you remember. The natural remnants Graves spoke of. Or maybe it’s more than that. I’d like to believe the latter, but I’m not exactly impartial.’ Daniel smiled, then tipped his head, urging him on.

Jonah ran to his mother, tears pouring.

They embraced.

‘My baby boy,’ she said. ‘My beautiful boy.’

He wept, holding her as tight as he could.

‘When you died, I felt so alone.’

‘You’re not alone.’

‘You mean you’re—’

‘That’s not what I mean.’

She held him and he held her, no thoughts in his head, only the joy of being with her again, whatever it meant. At last, his tears slowed. He broke away so he could look at her again.

‘It’s time,’ she said. ‘You have to let me go.’

‘I don’t want—’ he started, but she put a finger to his lips.

‘Hush,’ she said, smiling at him. She brushed his hair back from his forehead. ‘You have to let me go.’