The Vengeful Dead (26 page)

She yanked her hand free, face twisted up into rage, but her eyes widened with fear. “Devil!” Her body sprang back, one moment clamped around his body, the next several feet back, crouched to attack. Nick took a defensive stance.

“She’s not yours to use, Rosa,” he said. “We’ll stop Vasquez.”

She shifted around to his left and Nick turned to counter. “I will kill him. He must die.”

“Not by your hand,” he replied. “We’ll take him down. You need to take care of your babe.”

“He wants his blood! I will get it,” she hissed, and jumped at him once again.

Nick took the momentum of her jump, pivoted, and threw her to the ground, coming down on top of her. He summoned up the energy from the souls within him and began to draw upon Rosa’s spirit. Her eyes turned wild, her body bucking against him, nearly throwing him off, but Nick kept her arms pinned to the ground. She screamed at him, cursing in Spanish, her head thrashing side to side.

Nick could feel her pulling energy from her baby. “Rosa, you will destroy him. Stop.”

“Let me go,” she yelled. “Rennie must die.”

“Rosa!” He dug his fingers into her shoulders and slammed her against the floor. “Stop this! Or I will take your soul.”

Finally, fear seemed to take over. The bucking stopped. She began to cry. “My boy needs justice.”

“And we’ll get it,” he said. “Let us do this. If you can’t, I’ll be forced to take you. I won’t let you use Jackie again.”

Rosa went limp and began to sob. “Devil. It’s not fair. It’s not fair.”

“I’m sorry.” He knew how she felt, knew how deep-seated that need for vengeance could be. He had been there. “Take care of your baby. He needs you. Let the living deal with its own, Rosa. Let it be.” He let go of her at last and swung himself off of her body. “I’m going to go now. If I come back, Rosa, this will be finished.”

She sat up, chest heaving with sobs. “Go, Devil! I hate you.”

Nick sighed. Was it enough? Would she stop? He hoped the threat was serious enough, but he wasn’t going to count on it. He would still need to keep an eye on Jackie.

“Goodbye, Rosa. I hope you find peace.” He focused on his home and a moment later was gone.

Chapter 33

Jackie came around to familiar surroundings. She was seated in her Durango, slumped against an inflated airbag. In front of her, a minivan parked along the curb was mashed into the crumpled hood of her SUV. Sirens wailed nearby. She fumbled for the handle and opened the door, falling to her knees as she stumbled out of the vehicle. The immediacy of her exhausted body was overwhelming and for a moment she just remained on her hands and knees, trying to get her bearings and strength to get back to her feet. The pain was a welcome relief. She could feel things again. Her body was solid and living. Tires screeched to her left.

“Rosa!” It was McManus. He ran up. “Don’t move, Rosa. Just . . . stay right there.”

She could see him from the waist down, his creased slacks and polished leather shoes, but she could not motivate her head to peer up to see his face. His hands moved over her, patting her down and Jackie tried to pull away, but she only sat down on her butt. It hit her then he was looking for the gun Rosa hand taken.

“It’s the real me, McManus. Look in the car,” she said. It had to be in there. God, how was she going to explain this? The BPS people were going to be all over her.

McManus stepped around her and a moment later came out. He held the gun at his side, grip firm and ready. “Jack, is it really you?”

She nodded. “Is your daughter named Amanda? Do you come from Gang Enforcement in San Francisco? Are you a divorced guy trying to make this whole agent-family thing work?” His grip relaxed somewhat. “Sorry, Ryan. I’m really sorry.” His left eye was swollen and darkening into quite the shiner.

He knelt down beside her. “Thank Christ you’re back. Are you hurt?”

“No more than I was.” She swallowed hard. “Put me in the back of your car.”

“What?”

“I need a safe place. In case Rosa comes back.”

“Oh, yeah. OK. Here, let me help you up.” He gripped her arm and Jackie dug her fingers into his jacket and struggled to her feet. Her legs shook with the effort.

She shuffled with him back to his car and flopped down into the seat. At that moment, her cell rang. She dug it out and sighed with relief. It was Nick. “Hey. You made it out OK?”

“We did,” he said. “Hopefully Rosa will stay put. How’s it going there?”

“Ryan’s here,” she said, “and I crashed the damn Durango.”

His voice tensed. “You weren’t hurt, were you?”

“I hurt all over Nick, but not from that. I don’t think my body has slept for three days, and my head is still killing me.”

“No meds, Jackie,” he said. “You need to stay awake until we can get out there. Rosa is probably waiting for her chance to come back.”

That was news she wanted to hear. “Thanks for that. You can take me home after I get fired.”

“You won’t get fired. Belgerman won’t let them fire you for this.”

“Nick, I punched a fellow agent and took his weapon. Even if I can tell the BPS the reason why and they actually believed me, I don’t think it would matter. I’m screwed.” Another car pulled up alongside McManus’s car. It was Pernetti. “And now the fun really begins. Just . . . hurry, Nick. What if Rosa tries to come back while I’m awake?”

There was a pause, long enough to tell Jackie that he was not sure of the answer. “I think she would have tried already if she could. She’s weakening, Jackie. Her strength comes from the babe and it’s waning. You’re too strong for her while you’re awake, Jackie. Remember that.”

Strong. That was so not true. She had never felt weaker, entirely at the whims of things she did not fully comprehend, like the sadistic stepfather who tortured and tormented her mother to the point of suicide. How or why did such things exist in this world? “I’ll see you soon?”

“We’re on our way now.”

Jackie clicked off and lay back against the seat. They could not get there fast enough. All she wanted to do right now was curl up and go to sleep. Better yet, if Laurel could show up, that would go a long way to alleviating her stress. She muttered quietly to herself, “Red Rover, Red Rover, send Laurel right over.”

Pernetti rapped his knuckles on the window. “What the fuck, Jack? Have you lost your mind? Why are you locked up in McManus’s car?”

“Pretty much and long story,” she snapped back. “Go away.”

“What were you doing? Chasing ghosts again?”

“Not now, Pernetti.”

He stared at her through the window. “Yeah. You look like shit. McManus!” He walked away, thankfully leaving her alone.

Something swelled and stretched the fabric of space around her and Jackie lurched up.

You tricked me.

The air froze in Jackie’s lungs. “Rosa,” she whispered.

Let me in, so we may finish this. My little boy needs justice!

Jackie could feel Rosa pushing at the door, nudging and prying with her throat-clenching fingers. Once the moment of utter panic had subsided to a dull quaking in her boots, Jackie realized a different tone to Rosa’s rants. She was desperate. “We’ll get Vasquez. We’ll get your justice, Rosa.”
I’m strong. I am strong.

Jail? That’s your justice? Fuck your justice!
The desperation was pure anger again
. Rennie Vasquez must die. He will be killed like he killed me and my poor little boy! And I don’t care if your Devil destroys me.

A sudden cramp gripped Jackie’s stomach, twisting it into a violent knot. She doubled over in the seat, sucking in her breath. “Oh, fuck. Rosa, stop!” A kaleidoscope of images tumbled through her brain, drenched in a sheen of red: a flashing knife thrust between her thighs, plunging into her womb, unzipped from sternum to navel with everything fumbling out through panicked fingers, all at the hand of the psychopathic Rennie Vasquez.

Jackie fell over in the seat, swatting at the imaginary knife, kicking at the drug-fueled insanity of Rennie, and then covering her head as the pistol aimed itself at her forehead. “No!” she screamed. “No, stop!”

The car door jerked open, and McManus grabbed Jackie’s ankle as it thrust out into the open air. He pushed it over against the seat, pinning her legs and then leaned in, folding his arms down on top of hers and sandwiching them to her chest. “Jack! What’s going on? You with me, Rutledge?”

Jackie opened her eyes, half expecting it to be Rosa, and half choked out a sob or a laugh, it was hard to tell which. “It’s Rosa,” she said in a hushed voice, hoping Pernetti couldn’t hear them. “The bitch is trying to come back.”

McManus heaved a sigh. “This is Twilight Zone sort of weirdness, you know that right?”

She nodded. “No shit. Need Nick and Shelby to hurry up and get here. Not sure how long I can last against her.”

His eyes widened. “Seriously? It’s that hard to keep a ghost away?”

“Rosa’s got some help,” she said, “and I’m beat to hell, and I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.” She laughed, a cackling, hoarse sound that likely did nothing to dispel the notion of her mental breakdown. “Just keep me locked up until they get here, OK?

Jackie Rutledge, get out of this car! Do not fail my little boy. You know what true justice is. You know what he deserves! Help me kill him. Please. You’re my last chance.

Jackie scrunched her eyes closed, trying to will the voice away. If only she knew how. The anger had gone back to desperation, and desperate for justice was a feeling she had years of experience with. Part of her sympathized with Rosa, but this was not the way to help her.

“She won’t shut up,” Jackie said. “Sad thing is, part of me wants to help her kill this guy. She’s showing me what he did.”

“Sweet Jesus,” McManus said. “We need to get you a sedative or something.”

“No!” She pushed at him, but was so weak he would barely budge. “Can’t sleep, Ryan. She’ll come right through the drugs and take over. It doesn’t matter.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “OK. Shit. I’ll just keep you locked up then.” He pushed himself back up.

“That’s one way to break in a new partner, Jack,” Pernetti said with a bark of laughter. “So, do we know where this Vasquez guy is or not?”

McManus pushed himself off of Jackie. “Sorry, Jack. I’ll send Nick over soon as he gets here.” He closed the door, but she could still hear him talking. “Yeah, here’s the address I got from the tip. Let’s get some guys over there.”

Rosa began to push and pound on the space around her. Jackie felt as though something was trying to pry open her head and climb inside.
They’re going to get him! Let me in! You want justice too, I can feel it. You want to spill his blood.

Jackie flinched with each blow, feeling herself give and buckle just a hair each time. How could she deny the feeling, if it was there? She did want Vasquez’s blood for what he had done. And Drake’s and Carl’s too. Her own anger synched with Rosa’s. She had lived that rage for a long time, but had learned to channel it. The images of Rosa’s revenge kept filtering into her head. The sweet feeling of letting that rage loose coursed through her blood.

If Rosa kept it up, eventually she would collapse. “Killing him is not justice, Rosa. It’s revenge.” Even to Jackie, the words sounded hollow.

My little boy needs revenge!

Jackie clutched at her head. She needed help now and Nick was still minutes away at best. She was slipping fast. “Laur? Please! I need you now.” To her surprise, Laurel actually appeared, stepping through the car door and sitting down by her head.

She gasped. “What’s happening? Rosa?”

“Rosa’s winning,” Jackie moaned. “Not sure I’m . . . ow! damn it. Not sure I’m going to make it until Nick gets here.”

Laurel’s hands brushed her face, a cool, soothing whisper of sensation. “I’m not back to my usual strength,” she said. “But I’ll try and help you hold out.” Rosa came after her now like a charging bull, and Jackie could feel herself getting pushed away from her body. Both of them flinched. “Sweet Mother! She’s strong.”

Jackie tried to laugh but it came out far more tearful. “I know. I don’t want her in my body, Laur. She’s going to get me killed.”

Look at what he did to us! We must kill him.

Rosa’s presence pushed at her, rattled, bent, and bowed Jackie’s will, exerting more and more pressure on Jackie’s soul. And the bloody onslaught of images, screams, and gunshots skipped and rewound themselves in a jagged refrain of horror. Jackie had no place to turn in order to not see them. She covered her ears. “Fuck, Laur. Make it stop. I can’t take this.”

“Let me in, hon. Now, before it’s too late.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I can help you better from the inside, and she’s coming through, whether we want her to or not.”

“No,” Jackie yelled. “She can’t have me. I won’t—” She ground her teeth together in agony and doubled up once again, as something sharp and cold pierced her between her legs. Tears burst out of her. “I’m not strong enough for this.”

In the background, McManus’s fist pounded on the window. “Jack? You OK in there?”

“Then let me in,” Laurel whispered.

“But won’t you be trapped too?”

“It’s OK. Do it now.”

“Jack!” McManus yelled. “Fuck. I’m calling in the paramedics.”

Jackie let go, letting herself slip away, and Laurel’s spirit swept in. Unlike Rosa, her cool, calm presence brought relief. On Laurel’s heels, however, came the tidal wave of Rosa’s rage and desperation, burying them both. Jackie did the only thing possible at that moment. She held on to her friend for dear life and crashed down in to the darkest depths of her being.

Chapter 34

“Rosa! You can’t do this. Innocent people are going to die.”

Pernetti’s car darted through traffic, lights flashing. Jackie felt as though she sat in a dark room, watching things happen through a first-person POV camera. Most disturbing was seeing her hands on the steering wheel, but having no direct sensation of them. She was her own bad movie. Laurel had tried to help them get through to Deadworld, but Rosa was too strong, and no amount of focus would make those curtains part between worlds.

“None of them are innocent,” Rosa said.

This isn’t justice. The law will deal with him, Rosa. We know where he is now. He’ll get the death penalty, I guarantee you.

“I am the death penalty,” she said.

Jackie, you can’t reason with her,
Laurel said.
We need to figure out how to stop her.

How? I couldn’t even keep her from taking over. I don’t know how to do any of this shit.

Laurel’s voice continued its soothing calm, which eased Jackie’s panicked nerves
. But you do know things, hon. You can sense the dead. You can channel spirits. I would not be with you now if you couldn’t. You can cross over to the other side, with the uncanny ability to open that door with no effort at all. You have amazing abilities. You are not broken, sweetie. It’s just . . . your body and spirit, which are one unit in everyone else, can now come apart. You’re truly unique.

Jackie wanted to throw up her hands in frustration, but they remained locked on the steering wheel.
How does any of that help us to throw the bitch out?

Rosa turned onto a neighborhood street, clipping the front of a parked car with the rear end of Pernetti’s. “Who is in there with you?” she demanded.

Like I’m telling you a damn thing,
Jackie snapped back.

“How did they get in there?” Was that actually a hint of worry in her voice?

Unlike you,
Jackie said,
I invited her.

The car sideswiped a pickup turning another corner and knocked off the side-view mirror. Jackie watched her hands grip the wheel so tightly the knuckles turned white. Her hands, and she could not even feel them. It was disconcerting.

“You should be grateful,” Rosa shouted, and then her voice grew eerily quiet. “You’re helping the dead get justice. You should be helping me, Agent Jackie Rutledge.” Jackie could feel a calmness wash through her, blurring her vision, making her wish for sleep. She was so tired, her body being dragged along by Rosa’s strength. “My baby needs your help.”

Jackie!
Laurel shouted, burning off the cool breeze of sleep with a mental slap to the face.
She’s messing with you.

But the baby—

Rosa’s vengeance is draining it to nothing, remember? Come on, hon. You have to fight this.

Jackie struggled back to alertness.
I’m trying, Laur. Damn it!

Then do what you’ve always done,
she said.
Get pissed and kick some ass. I always loved that about you.

That’s great, except for the fact I have no body to kick ass with
. What the hell was she supposed to do trapped in the depths of her own mind? Insult Rosa into leaving?

The car slid to a stop in the middle of the street. Jackie watched herself turn and look up at a huge, rundown, converted Victorian. She recognized the address nailed in large, metal numbers to a post on the sagging porch as the same one from McManus’s note. Rosa’s cold, furious excitement smacked her like a gust of wind. Jackie knew that feeling. When they were about to take down a killer, that same excitement would flow through her veins. There was always that dark, barely veiled hope that she would get to pull the trigger on him. She completely understood Rosa’s drive.

“Mama’s going to get him, baby. Don’t you worry.”

The words struck a chord in Jackie. She had said something along those lines after her mother’s suicide. She had promised her that Carl the cop would die for his crimes. The death of Carl had motivated her for years, occupying her dreams, and coloring every aspect of her life growing up. But if she could have asked her mother, what would she have wanted? Would killing Carl have been her sole desire? Maybe, but she might have wanted nothing to do with him at all.

The tires smoked as Rosa pulled the car back and then lurched up the drive and onto the front lawn. Jackie cringed when the Glock appeared in her hand. Shit was about to hit the fan.

Laur, what if the baby was gone? You think Rosa would still need to do this?

Gone? What do you mean? How? Rosa won’t let us take him, and she’s too strong as long as he’s around.

What if we don’t have to take him? What if . . . maybe he doesn’t want to do this,
she said in barely a whisper.
What if he just wants comfort and solace? Maybe if I invited him, he would just come with me.

Invited? I don’t . . . oh. Oh!
Jackie felt the excitement as Laurel understood.
Invite him here. Inside, with me.
Their train of thought got brought to an abrupt close.

Rosa did not bother knocking. Feds were coming soon, so no time to waste. Jackie watched her own steel-toed boot kick the door open, splintering the door jam. Through an archway to the right, someone was scrambling up from a sofa. Rosa made no hesitation. No questions. Not even a
Where’s Rennie?

With appalling, gunslinger speed and accuracy, Jackie watched her arm swing the Glock up and fire. Rosa had her vision focused squarely on the man’s forehead. It was hard to tell if Rosa was actually guiding the bullets to their mark, but there was a definite coursing of power going on in the process. The man dropped to his knees and then keeled over on the coffee table.

The sounds of shouting could be heard upstairs and the thumping of feet upon the wooden floor. Someone appeared in the kitchen doorway at the end of the entry hall. It was hard to tell if the silhouetted figure was male or female, but Jackie watched once again as Rosa guided her hand up and squeezed off two more shots. The person screamed and spun backward into the kitchen. Female. That scream had been female.

Rosa, stop! You’re killing innocent people!
Jackie pleaded, desperately wanting to get control of her limbs again. Though she knew Rosa was killing these people, part of her could not escape the fact that it was her body, moving through this house and ending innocent lives. They saw her, not Rosa. They all watched the psycho agent rampaging through their house, a psycho with a gun. When . . . if they got through this, they would all believe Jackie Rutledge had murdered everyone. And there wasn’t a goddamned thing she could do about it.

“They’re harboring a murderer, a serial psychopathic murderer! They all die.” The last was said with such quiet, angry resolve, that Jackie had no doubt that every last person in this house was going to get a bullet in the head.

Jackie, stop. Stay with me and focus. We might only have one chance at this.

Chance at what?
Jackie wondered. Rosa was moving quickly up the stairs now, Glock aimed at the railing above. Jackie felt ill. If given her body back at that particular moment, she might be puking all over the floor. It was difficult to dissociate herself from her body doing these murderous things.

In the now disturbingly quiet upstairs, Jackie heard the distinctive
snick
that told her someone had just cocked a gun.
Rosa? They’ve got guns up there. You might want to think this through a little bit.

“Not to worry, Agent Rutledge. We can take a few,” she said, and as she reached the point where her head would be poking above the rail, Rosa leaped up the last third of the stairs in two bounds, turned around the banister and squeezed off a shot at the man just starting to swing open a bedroom door to shoot at her. The door slammed shut and someone slumped down against it on the other side.

“Rennie! Get out here you sonofabitch. I’ve got a few words for you.” She cooed the last in a sing-song voice.

A second bedroom door off of the landing burst open, followed a moment later by the sound of steps from behind. Jackie would have immediately dropped into a roll toward the stairs, hoping to catch the attackers from behind. But when you weren’t too worried about getting shot, because, well, your body was disposable, you just kept going in the direction you thought necessary.

Shit,
Jackie said.
We’re so dead.

Jackie! We need to open the door. We can trick her to go through,
said Laurel.

How? I thought we weren’t strong enough?

When she uses her power on something else, her will to hold us weakens. If we really focus, I think we can open the door. If we time it right, maybe we can trick her into going through.

When? Now?

No. Anticipate her moves. Just be ready.

Got it,
Jackie said and steadied herself in expectation of Rosa’s next move.

Rosa rushed the two coming out of the second bedroom. The first got his gun up, but her uncanny speed got Rosa inside that shot before he could wheel his arm around. The blast fired harmlessly into the wall behind them. The second went into the floor, when Rosa blocked his arm with such force Jackie heard the bone snap. If she had been able to, Jackie would have flinched with every muscle. As it was, the man screamed and stumbled sideways, heading for the railing, which Rosa helped him through by burying two rounds in his chest. He went crashing through, slamming into the wall and then continuing down the stairs.

Now that she knew, Jackie could feel the walls around her ease, their strength begin to wane. She began to focus, pulling her energy together to open the door.

The next had a gun as well, but didn’t get a chance to bring it up, as the attacker from the rear tackled Rosa into him. The view suddenly went dark as Jackie saw her face smashed up against the man’s chest. It was in that moment, when Rosa began to push back and swing her elbow around toward the other attacker’s head, that Jackie saw, along with Rosa, a familiar figure at the top of the stairs.