American Quest (19 page)

Blue skies framed his face and his sandy hair glinted in sunshine. In the frozen moment captured within the dagger, Bruce was smiling. But someone’s head lay on his shoulder. Not Gloria’s. The other likeness Gloria saw in the dagger had round blue eyes with coppery hair canted at opposing angles in a pixie cut.

Jamie.

Gloria’s fingers tensed, and the sharp blade slipped from her hands.

“MAYBE ONE OF THESE DAYS we’ll get a good night’s sleep,” Jamie said, resting her head on Bruce’s shoulder as they waited on a bench outside Shannon’s apartment building.

Bruce shook his head slowly. “Only one thing is going to give me a good night’s sleep at this point.”

Jamie smiled and patted his arm. “We’re going to get her, you know.”

Bruce put his hand over Jamie’s. “I know. We are going to get her. I’m certain of that. What I’m not certain about is where we’re going next. Any thoughts on that one?”

Jamie rolled her eyes. “Not a clue. And I mean that literally.”

Shannon and Forte bounded out of the apartment building carrying a leopard-print duffel.

“Charlie cancelled all his gigs for the next week!” Shannon announced.

“That’s right! Never done that before in my life!” Forte took Shannon’s hand and spun her around on the sidewalk.

They loaded the bag into the van and then strolled the few blocks to the deli. Bruce chewed his lip.
Might as well take a stroll. Might as well take all the time in the world. We don’t know where the hell we’re going next, anyway
.

He opened the jingling glass door and the four of them stepped through. The lighted display case glowed with tantalizing morsels of
sweet and savory, and although the sun had barely risen, Zingerman’s Delicatessen buzzed with a long line of locals in the know.

Shannon definitely seemed in her element. “Don’t bother sitting down. This place is about the food, you know? ’Sides, we gotta hop on the van-wagon and scale those Pillars of Humanity. You may want to split something because everything’s humongous. Charlie and I’ll get the breakfast BLT. You want the breakfast BLT, babe? That’d be a nice hearty pre-Armageddon breakfast! What do you guys like? Do you like bagels? Get the ham, egg, and cheddar, it’s
insane
!”

Forte hit some chords on his air guitar and sang in a falsetto, “Ham and egg bagels with cheddar CHEE-yez, it’s in-SAY-eee-YANE!”

Apparently, Shannon and Forte were both morning people. Bruce wished for one of those breakfast BLTs now just so he could stuff it in their gobs and shut them up. Their good humor and sense of abandon ratcheted up his sense of desperation. “I just want coffee,” he muttered.

Shannon chortled on. “Oh, they have great coffee. But you’d better get something more substantial. We got a long road ahead and—”

Bruce’s eyes swerved to her. “How do you know?”

Everyone turned to regard Bruce, surprised at the edge in his voice.

He puffed through his nose. “How do you know we have a long road ahead? Does anyone know where we’re going? Anyone?”

Three pairs of eyes regarded him in silence.

He lifted his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I just can’t get the image out of my mind, with Gloria and . . . I can’t stand . . . I just wish I knew for sure what I should be doing. I don’t even know why we’re standing at this deli in Ann Arbor.”

Jamie tugged at her cropped coppery hair. “I know this is frustrating, Bruce, and I wish I’d gotten better preparation for all of this. But I’m convinced we’re on the right track. We were supposed to meet Charles and Shannon; I’m certain of it.”

Bruce sighed.

The trail of people behind them in line grew longer. Folks streamed in and out, sinking their teeth into steaming fragrant breakfast sandwiches or carrying paper bags stuffed with baked goods. The woman behind them waved at someone across the room, accidentally nudging Jamie as she did.

Jamie turned back to Bruce and the others. “I think we need to keep
moving, keep touching down at different places, and keep our eyes open. Things’ll keep falling into place.”

Bruce breathed deeply, and then gave a nod. “I suppose. It just seems crazy to even get in the car if we don’t know which way to turn.”

At that moment, the woman behind Jamie shouted, “Dayton, Ohio!”

They all swiveled to look at her. She was still addressing someone across the room and did not even realize she had captured their attention.

Forte furrowed his brow with wide eyes. “Um, is that meant to be our answer to where we go next?”

“Dayton. Dayton, Ohio!” the woman repeated.

They all looked at one another. Bruce felt the tension in his jaw muscles lift.

Jamie grinned, and mouthed the words,
Dayton, Ohio
.

“That would be a left out of the parking lot, no?” Bruce said, suddenly thinking a ham, egg, and cheddar bagel sounded good.

Rafe’s centuries-old pact with Enervata had forfeited their souls and stripped them of humanity, changing their bodies forever. The time had come for that to end.

Isolde had watched over Bruce and his companions in Michigan. Though she strove to suppress all signs, they still filtered through like water droplets in a sugar bowl. Forming patterns without introducing any new elements, just assuming their natural shape in things that already existed. How could she block such forces?

It was fortunate that Rafe had been called away for a new development concerning Kolt. Having failed alone in this task, she need only assume responsibility for herself. She would tell Enervata of the incident in Ann Arbor. Rafe had not been present, so his cursed blood need
not spill. She would tell Enervata that she had failed in her task and she would look upon her capital punishment as welcome succor.

Ever since Rafe spoke of an end to this damnable existence, what relief may come in a simple death that should have occurred centuries ago, Isolde had longed for that relief. Of course, Rafe immediately rescinded the notion. Planted the seed in Isolde’s psyche and then backpedaled. Cowered. Coward!

Rafe probably delighted over Kolt’s emergence. Enervata’s focus would be diverted. As of yet, Rafe and Isolde had not even reported the addition of Charles Forte and Shannon Power to Bruce’s company. Ridiculous! Were Enervata to learn that Rafe and Isolde had not only failed in their tasks but also failed to report it, his rage would transcend simple murder. Enervata had ways to make a body long for death. And diversion or none, Isolde and Rafe both knew that time slipped ever closer to the hour when Enervata would find out.

Let it be now.

Her pantry lay barren of Enervata’s meager rations of repose. Holding reign over the wild-lands now seemed as empty a promise as any he’d ever offered. And now she even lost the comfort of her community. Transformed as she was, her own canteshrikes shunned her, and she could not even so much as hunt pixieflies.

Isolde saw Rafe’s assignment to the Kolt development as a gift. Her quick death; no bloodstained hands, blood of her hated former lover.

A gift of freedom from her hated former lover.

Finally, after so long, to tear away.

She entered the penthouse flat.

Enervata greeted her with the warmest, most uncharacteristic smile. “Ah, Isolde the Fair.”

THEY’D BEEN DRIVING FOR HOURS. Shannon and Forte had been talking nonstop since they left Ann Arbor, but a few miles back even they’d slowed down. Bruce figured it was time for a break. While his emotions told him to move constantly until he found a way to defeat Enervata, his instincts told him that all of the questers needed to stay fresh. He took the next exit and started down the off-ramp.

Jamie, who’d seemed absorbed in her thoughts as she looked out the window, suddenly sat up straight, grabbed his elbow, and shouted, “Bruce, slow down!”

“What? It’s not like I’m going that fast.”

But even as he spoke, the van slowed—not because he’d hit the brakes, but as though someone else controlled the pedals. The van followed the sharp curve of the exit ramp and Bruce saw a petroleum tanker sitting in the middle of the lane.

Everyone cried out.

Bruce swerved and avoided the truck. As he passed it, though, he could see someone inside the cab, looking out with a dark, distant expression. Bruce felt a chill as he watched the man, something more intense than the icy rush that came with a close, dangerous encounter.

Something deeper. And more insidious.

His grimace clenched in place, he sat in the cab of the petroleum fuel truck. That decent tool fuck. Yes yes yes. Yes yes yes. The fat little leprechaun told him so.

His eyes swam toward ye olde rearview mirror. And just as told by that pot of freakin’ gold, he saw that van come nearer.

It swerved. Careened. And he had to snicker.

Here he sat in the cab, loose in his ways. Waiting outside the Tollie-Do town. Somewhere in Ohio. O!

Hidey hidey hidey ho!

It careened! Ravined . . . retrieved.

Van moved on.

Screechy careenie. In that rearview mirror, another came nearer. Who cares? Not the van.

This one was some other.

A 4x4.

His grimace clenched in place. He let it firm his face.

The one in the 4x4 got out and walked toward him with no sway and no shimmy. He said to him, “Hey, buddy, you okay?” and, “You need a lift?” and, “Can I make a phone call for ya there, buddy? Dangerous, your petroleum tanker sitting at that curve of an off-ramp!”

The grimace clenched in place, he replied, “Hoodie hoo de hooo!” “Fuckin’ moron. I’m calling the cops.”

And the 4x4 one left. Van was loooooooooonng gone, anyhows.

Grimace clenched in place, he picked up the CB and pressed the little button.

“That’s a ten-four, Hedon!” And then a snicker. And then, “Hidey hidey hidey hi!”

And then bye-de-bye-de-bye.

He leaned his head on the steering column. Let his eyes blinky goodnight. Let the world sail out of sight. Let the lungs stop. Lungs stop. Lungs stop their pumpin’ delight.

That leprechaun goin’ nighty-bye. Tattle-tell it, Hedon! Hidey hi during! Bye-de-bye-de-bye. Hedon.

Grimace.

Clenched.

In place.

The van angled around the tanker and continued down the exit ramp.

Bruce stole a glance at Jamie. “How did you know to slow down as we came off the exit ramp? One of those tinkles you told me about?”

Her face white, Jamie nodded.

“Good save, man! I thought we were gonna hit that truck for sure,” Forte said, letting out his breath.

Shannon laughed nervously. “Lucky I wasn’t driving, cuz we would have. I’d’ve come barreling down that off-ramp and plowed right into’m. We’d be Quester Crisps.”