The Fifty-Seven Lives of Alex Wayfare (38 page)

I tried to let go and let my instincts respond, but no answer came. So I blurted out the most neutral thing I could think of. “Det kom tilbage positiv.” It came back positive. When he narrowed his eyes, I panicked and quickly added, “Sir.”

His eyes narrowed further.

That was it. I was dead in the water. I had no idea what I was saying. No idea if I would've addressed him as sir back then. Would I have said Hr Gesh instead?

Gesh leaned back further in his chair. It squeaked again. “Det er… godt at høre.” That's… good to hear. He tapped his fingers together, staring me down.

After a few moments, his lips slowly turned up at the edges. The creases around his eyes deepened. He reached out and pressed a button on a chunky-looking desk phone, his eyes still locked on mine. “Argus, kan du komme herind, tak?” Argus, can you come in here, please? He released the button and leaned back in his chair again. The corner of his left eye twitched.

Then, as quick as a snake strikes, Gesh leapt from his chair and rounded the desk toward me. I scrambled backward as he advanced. My back hit the wall and I flattened myself against it. He leaned in close, his hands folded behind his back, staring into my eyes. Almost as if he could see straight through to the Descender inside.

I bolted.

I scrambled for the black like a swimmer thrashing toward the surface. But he caught me. His fingers twined around my ankle. He pulled me back down into the cold, shadowy depths. When I landed and opened my eyes, he was smiling. A full-on smile, baring his teeth.

“Well, now,” he said, his warm coffee breath on my face. “I never suspected this.” He spoke slowly and softly, still in thick Danish, drawing out each word with relish. “Not in a million years did I suspect this. That one of my own would come back to spy on me.”

He gripped my chin between his forefinger and thumb, and forced my head to one side, then to the other, examining me. It made me feel like a thing, a specimen under a microscope. I hated the feeling of his fingertips on my skin.

“Fascinating,” he said, still speaking in Danish. “Your pupils aren't nearly as dilated as they should be. Number Four would be far more afraid of me than you are right now. She doesn't like it when I get this close.” He leaned in further so that our noses almost touched. I drew in a sharp breath and turned my face away.

Gesh smiled again.

When he smiled, he resembled his portraits at AIDA in my Base Life. The saintly man who'd saved countless lives. It was a kind, compassionate smile, and it seemed so out of place. Like a lie on his lips.

He let go of my chin, pushing my head away so hard that it smacked against the wall. I made a small whimper in the back of my throat.

“How did you know to come back here if your defects still persist?” Gesh said. “You must be working for someone. Is it Flemming?” He nodded to himself, still smiling. “Yes. It's Flemming. I did suspect that. I've noticed a change in him. I suppose one can only stay loyal for so long.” The corner of his eye twitched again. “I guess you'd know all about disloyalty now, wouldn't you, Number Four? Now that you've turned against me?”

When I didn't respond, he slapped me. Just like he had in my memory. I doubled over to my side, my hands pressed to my cheek, shocked by the pain of it. Sparks of light blinded me.

“Don't get me wrong,” he said, pacing, rubbing the sting from his hand. “It's fascinating that you're here. I would love to experiment further or chat about what it's like in the future, but I already know all I need to know, don't I?” He stepped up to me again, pulling me up to a standing position, pressing my shoulder blades against the wall. “All I need to know is that at some point, you're going to become an obstacle for me.” His voice caressed my skin like smoke. “So I think I'll do myself a favor and get rid of that obstacle while I have the chance. Save myself the headache.”

The door to the office opened and Gesh lifted a casual hand to the newcomer, like introducing a dinner guest. “This is Argus. He'll be taking over from here.” Gesh rubbed his hand again, the one he used to slap me. “I don't always do the dirty work myself. Sometimes I just like to watch.”

A full-body shiver rippled through me. Argus was an ox compared to Gesh. He was just as big as Mr Pence, my Advanced CADD teacher, but without an ounce of the charm or compassion. Argus' hungry, bloodshot eyes stared me down. He swiped his bottom lip with his tongue. The fluorescent overhead lights winked off his bald head.

What was Gesh's henchman going to do to me? Torture me like in 1876? Shatter my bones? Leave me lying in a pool of my own blood? I tried to channel my inner Shooter Delaney, but it was no good. I had no weapons. I was completely and utterly defenseless. And totally screwed.

They couldn't kill me, could they? That would just eject me back to Limbo, then I'd erase the timeline so it never happened. Unless Gesh knew something I didn't, which was probably the case. I still had so much to learn about Limbo. And this time I wouldn't be going up against a lower level Descender. I'd be fighting the mastermind behind it all, without Porter there to help me.

Argus didn't have to rush when he came for me. I was already a cornered rabbit. He lumbered forward, slow and steady, a meaty hand outstretched. I scrambled backward along the wall, my fingertips grazing it to steady myself, until my heels kicked into a stack of books. I lost my balance and crashed down on top of them. Argus didn't flinch or change his speed. He simply bent down, fisted the front of my smock in his thick fingers, and hauled me to my feet. He yanked me over to Gesh's desk and slammed me down on top of it, books and stacks of papers biting into my back. His iron grip clamped over my mouth, and he held me down by my head.

Gesh's face appeared above mine, upside down. He was still smiling. “Interesting. Your pupils have dilated a fraction more. Does Argus scare you more than I do?”

I couldn't respond even if I wanted to. I could barely breathe from the meaty grip Gesh's henchman had over my mouth, blocking my nose. Black spots and silver sparks danced and twirled before my eyes. I tried to struggle, kick Argus in the crotch or bite his hand, but it only made him press my skull into the desk harder. The wood creaked. It felt like my head was in a vise.

Gesh lowered his smiling mouth to my ear. “It's me you should be afraid of. Let me tell you why. Do you know what happens to a Descender who dies while under a soul block?” He moved to my other ear. “Her past life body dies. Her Base Life body dies. And her soul goes straight to Afterlife. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.” He moved back to my first ear. “And rest assured, I will find your soulmark in Limbo, if it's the last thing I do. I will descend into your body as many times as it takes to rip your family and friends of all they hold dear.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I will turn you into a monster. I will dedicate my life to it.” His teeth sank into my earlobe. I flinched and jerked my head to the side.

“Ah. There we go,” he said, peering into my eyes. “Fully dilated.” He cocked his head to the side and grinned. “It's good to know you have family and friends in your Base Life. That'll give me something to work with. And those dilated pupils tell me you care about them quite a bit, which means I'm going to have a lot of fun with them.” He slid his hand down between my thighs, and I stiffened with shock, sucking in a breath. “The same kind of fun I've had with you, Number Four.”

No one had ever touched me there. It was worse than Gesh slicing my wrists. Worse than Gesh pressing the ends of his cigarettes into my forearms.

My God, if he descended into my body and laid a single hand on Audrey or Claire…

Gesh's fingers groped at me, and a scream of fury ripped from my gut, muffled by Argus' sweaty palm. I whipped my head back and forth, writhing, flailing, driving my fists into Argus' biceps, trying to break free. There had to be a weak spot. A chink in Argus' armor.

Gesh stepped backward, out of reach of my flailing fists, no longer smiling. His expression was venomous. Volatile. “I've had enough fun, Argus,” he said. “Brække halsen.” Break her neck.

Argus grabbed my head with both hands and yanked me up to a sitting position. I sucked in a terrified scream. He flexed his arms, ready to snap my spine with one quick twist. His eyes met mine, and we stared at each other, my chest heaving.

This was the last thing I would see before I died: The face of Gesh's bald, murdering henchman. His large, dirty pores, glistening with oil. The red blood vessels spiderwebbed across the whites of his eyes. His hateful snarl.

I closed my eyes, refusing for my life to end that way. I pictured Blue's teasing smile. Felt his hand in mine. Heard Audrey's laugh. Saw her fingers turn the pages of Robert Burns. Saw Mom's chestnut hair tangle in front of her face in the wind. Dad's grin when he throws the Mustang into third. Claire snuggled next to me during movie night, tucking her ice-cold feet under my legs for warmth. Gran singing Blue Skies. Pops rocking in his chair on the back porch, smoking his pipe.

Tears streamed down my cheeks and onto Argus' hands. I'd failed them. All because I was too stubborn and too angry with Porter and Blue to think sensibly.

“Hvad venter du pÃ¥, Argus?” I heard Gesh say through the rush of blood in my ears. What are you waiting for, Argus?

My eyes flew open.

Gesh's henchman was still staring at me, but something had changed in his expression. The hateful snarl was gone. Argus narrowed his eyes at me and spoke in clear English, “I told you we'd talk about Levi later. Why didn't you trust me?”

My eyes went round. So did Gesh's.

Then Argus dropped me onto the desk, spun around, and slammed a brick-like fist into Gesh's face.

Gesh collapsed into a heap on the floor.

CHAPTER 31

 

 

I stared at Argus' beefy frame, paralyzed with shock, my cheeks coated with tears. “Porter?”

Porter turned around in Argus' massive body and wiped the sweat from his tall, sloping forehead. “Of course it's me. You didn't think I'd let something like this happen, did you?”

“I don't know,” I said, my voice nearing the screeching octaves. My nerves were completely shot. “My faith in you is a little shaky right now.”

He grabbed me by the arm, pulled me out of Gesh's office, and guided me into a medical supply closet across the hall. He flicked on the light and motioned for me to lower my voice, but I ignored him.

“How could you not tell me you were Flemming?” I screeched. “How?”

He winced and rubbed his temple. It was a typical Porter move, but it looked totally out of character for Argus.

I had to get a grip. The man standing before me was Porter. He'd descended into Argus' body. But the man down the hall, the forty year-old Flemming, was also Porter.

Two Porters in the same building. Two gigantic liars of epic proportions.

“All this time I thought you were some kind of hero,” I said, my hands shaking. “A Descender gone rogue, just like me. When all along you were the one who created me. You were the one who reincarnated me. You were the one who did all those experiments on me and Blue.”

“Alex–”

“I never asked for any of this. I never asked to be reincarnated. To be a Descender. You pushed it on me. You're nothing but a liar and a manipulator. You're no better than Gesh.”

“Now that is enough,” Porter said, slicing the air with his hand. Anger rumbled beneath his skin. “I know I kept the truth from you. I know I forced this life on you. And I am sorry about that. A hundred times sorry. There is not a day that goes by I don't wish I'd made better choices. But you do not get to be angry with me right now. It's my turn to be angry with you. Do you have any idea the catastrophic impact you've caused? Do you even know what you've done to history?”

“I screwed up, OK? I'm sorry you're pissed because you had to come save the day. I get it. But on the ‘catastrophic impact' level, I think you've done a lot more damage than I have. At least we can go back and erase the mess I made. All your messes are set in stone.”

“No, Alex,” he said. “We can't erase this. I think this is a fixed point in time. I think you've created a Variant.” He heaved a sigh and all his anger diffused, leaving his shoulders slumped. Like a deflated balloon.

“What do you mean? What's a Variant?”

“It means all this has already happened. You changed the past. You've created an alternate timeline.” His eyes met mine. “The world is the way it is in Base Life now because you came back here to see Tre.”

I shook my head slowly, almost involuntarily. “I don't understand.”

His frame deflated even more. He swallowed, almost as if it pained him to speak. “Have you spoken to Flemming at all since you've been here?”

“You mean have I spoken to you?” I said, glaring.

“Yes. Have you spoken to me?”

“Yes.”

“What did you say?”

I hesitated, not sure if I should tell him. Something told me I wouldn't like where this was headed.

“I need to know,” Porter said. “Where we go from here hinges on the exact words you spoke to me. I need to know if I'm right about this.”

I chewed my bottom lip and folded my arms across my chest. I lifted my chin. “I said, ‘You're a liar.'”

His eyes closed. He deflated further until he was hunched over, holding his face in his hands. Hopelessness hung from his sleeves.

This was bad. Something was very wrong. I reached out and touched his shoulder, more worried now than angry. “Porter?”