Campbell (32 page)

“I’ll make us breakfast.” She exhaled, relieved. “It’s…good to have you back. So good.”

Tal was relieved, but surprised that there was no mention of their sleeping arrangement in her statement as she trudged up the stairs and closed the door to her room. He hated that Lucy was right, as he was already having second thoughts about if he would be able to enact change in any major way. It was easy to say one was going to act, to go full gusto into an idea, but actually coming up with the plan was something he struggled with over the few days that followed his return.
 

The box with Juan’s ashes taunted him from his dresser and reminded him that he needed to act. Juan would have been on his side. Tal knew that in his gut.

He spent the next week attempting to digest the half-truths he was fed by Connor while he tried to come up with a plan of action. He seemed delighted to have Tal back and peppered him with questions about Campbell and how they’d work together. He emphasized how grateful he was to Tal and how sorry he was about what had happened, but it all seemed like lip service. Bits of the Vegas problem trickled down to Tal more and more over the days that followed, and it was a doozy.
 

Nevada had separated, and cut off all contact with West. The border between Nevada and Old California had turned into a militarized zone, with Connor refusing to back down. Vegas kids were rich, stubborn, spoiled, and were probably the most equal adversary he’d ever face. For years, they’d had an uncertain truce with Vegas, born of little more than extravagant partying. Tal wasn’t sure what had necessitated the breakdown. No one was saying. Even Leah avoided any mention of it, in favour of talking about her garden, or anything but anything having to do with politics.
 

After a week, Tal decided to stop obsessing about the situation with Nevada and do something he’d been putting off that he could actually resolve. He knew very little about Juan’s family; only that he’d had two children with a girl, the first when he was fourteen and the second five years later. He’d never met them, and Juan rarely mentioned them when he was at work so Tal couldn’t remember any of their names, except that of his girl. Rika. He’d always been very private, and Tal was much the same, so he’d never questioned him on any of it.
 

Juan lived in The Hills too, in a house he’d absconded early on from an action star he’d once admired. Tal had dropped him off after work numerous times. It wasn’t the biggest house, but it was nice from the outside, the yard well-maintained with two nice cars in the yard.

Tal parked in the driveway and, box in hand, he knocked on the door.
 

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” A voice from inside called, and he assumed it belonged to Rika. “I’m just…just a minute!”

It was about five minutes later, by Tal’s estimation, when the door finally creaked open and a frazzled woman in a yellow bath robe with a tiny girl clutching her leg tightly, whipped it open, her hair on the top of her head in a towel. Tal found himself surprised by the face he was met with. He’d always assumed Rika was Mexican for some reason, not Asian, and that Rika was short form for Erika or something. She was pretty, with long dark hair and huge expressive eyes that scanned him thoroughly.
 

“You’re Rika?”
 

“Yeah? Maybe?” she replied curiously, her words revealing the glint of a tongue ring. “Who’s asking?”

Tal shook his head, remembering himself and that they’d never met. “Sorry. I’m Tal Bauman. I worked with Juan. I…” He looked down at the box in his hands. “Do you mind if I come in?”

“Oh. You’re…” She nodded. “You work together. I’ve heard about you. The money guy. Of course. Come in. He’s not here. He’s on some secret mission in Old Canada or something.”

She didn’t know. No one had told her. He felt like he was going to be sick as she lead him inside and nodded for him to sit on the couch. “Rika—”

“Let me get dressed and get the kids settled. Just a minute,” she insisted, grabbing the small girl and throwing her effortlessly over her shoulder. She returned a few minutes later dressed in a pair of ratty jeans and a crisp white t-shirt. “So, you work with Juan. When’s he...” she trailed off as she caught his expression and realized what was in the box on his lap. “No. That’s not…” she trailed off again. “No.”

He thought of all the death and destruction he’d seen in the previous ten years, all that he’d survived, and decided that telling her was probably the shittiest thing he’d ever had to do, which said a lot, considering the week he’d had. She looked at him for an explanation.

“We were in Campbell and I was kidnapped, along with the leader of that area.”

“The girl. Lucy Campbell.” She let out a long breath. “The socialist.”

Tal nodded. “And Juan was killed when they took me.”

A haggard sob escaped her throat, and she covered her face with her hands.
 

“No,” she whispered. “No, no, no.”

For the first time in a very long time, Tal felt his eyes well up as he realized that he’d wasted the time he’d known Juan. He’d made little effort to get to know him, and now he never would. As it stood, he’d died a meaningless death, and here, he had people that cared about him. Maybe more than anyone would ever care about Tal.

“I thought someone already told you. Someone should have told you.”

“Who?” she sobbed. “Connor? Do you have any idea how many times Connor has eaten with our family and he didn’t even have the balls to come over here and tell me that Juan was…” She squeezed her face tight and grimaced. “That Juan was dead, and it was him who’d sent him to his death?”

Tal set the box on the coffee table and he did what he hoped was the right response. He hugged Rika, wrapping his arms around her tightly. He felt like he was suffocating in her sadness as they stood there, swaying, both of them affected. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I wish you could know how sorry I was—”

“How the fuck am I going to tell his girls? How the fuck do you do that?” she sobbed. “It’s been us, since I was twelve.”

“If you need anything…” He exhaled. “I wish—”

“None of us have time for survivor’s guilt. Haven’t we all been through enough of that?” she choked, stiffening up. She stood and escorted him to the door quickly, clearly in need of a few minutes. “Thanks…for coming. For having the balls to tell me.”

“I’ll come check on you again in a few days,” he whispered, cognizant that she didn’t want him to see her cry. “When you’ve had some time.”

When he got home, Leah was curled up on their couch in the fetal position in a pair of ratty sweatpants and a faded black tank top. She barely looked up when Tal knelt in front of her.

“Why didn’t anyone tell Juan’s girl that he’d died?”

“Connor said he’d done it,” she mumbled. “I don’t know her.”

“He didn’t tell her. I had to tell her.” He sat beside her and her body moved to curl around him as she lay her head in his lap. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Someone else lit themselves on fire in San Francisco. On the bridge.” She turned the television on. “There were three last week when you were gone.”

He instinctively stroked her hair, an action that he knew she found comforting, and watched the television flash on a ball of fire climbing up onto the ledge before dropping into the ocean. It had happened a bit, in the early days, before kids had come up with less dramatic ways to end their lives, but it had been years since he’d heard of anyone doing it.
 

“Was there a reason?”

She rolled over and looked at him, a frown on her familiar features. “Tonight they said the kid was bipolar. The others were depressed. They don’t know though. It’s just excuses, because life isn’t what it used to be, and some days you wake up, and that’s hard to swallow.”

“The kids in Campbell that I met? Most of them think it’s better now than before. Can you imagine feeling like that?”

“No,” she said simply. “I can’t.” A sob dragged out of her throat. “I have to tell you something.”

There’d been no hint of intimacy between them since his return. He found himself surprised, but not unhappy about that. Something had been off with her over the past week he’d been back, and he’d pushed a little bit, but she’d shut down each time, vanishing to her room, or the garden, and leaving him drowning in a heady mix of anger and concern.

“Tell me,” he said quietly, as she sat up on her heels on the couch. “A guy gets kidnapped for a week and his whole world goes to shit—”

“I slept with Connor, before I knew you were alive. I…” Her face screwed up and fat tears streamed down her cheeks. “I didn’t know what would happen to me if you were gone, and I wasn’t thinking….”

Tal stood and he felt a type of rage bubble up in him that he’d never experienced before. “Leah, what the fuck—”

“Don’t say anything, because I knew what I was doing. It wasn’t that I didn’t know,” she wiped her eyes. “I know it was stupid, but I just felt like I needed to make sure—”
 

He sat down in his father’s chair. “Did he make you—”
 

“No!” She shook her head. “No. I…it was my idea. You know how he always wanted me—”

“Because he couldn’t have you. Fuck,” Tal shook his head, disgusted and angry. “You really thought that was the answer?”

“What else is the answer? He runs everything. He had all the contacts. There’s nothing I could have done—”

“You could have tried.”

Tears ran down her cheeks. “I know,” she nodded. “I know. Everything was so fucked—”

“If I die,” he said, his eyes locked with hers. “You go to Campbell. You take the money and you go find Lucy Campbell, and you tell her who you are. You got that?”

She shook her head. “We thought they took you. Connor was sure of it.”

Tal rubbed his temples. “Why the hell would they beat the shit out of their own leader and have her vanish too? That doesn’t make any sense. ”

Leah shrugged. “Maybe not, but we didn’t exactly have much to go on. I didn’t know any of that before you called.”
 

After spending the rest of the day together in the garden working around each other in awkward silence, Leah and Tal said their goodnights. What seemed like hours of tossing and turning later, Tal trudged downstairs to pace the floor of his father’s study for a few hours before he finally sat down and did the only thing that felt right. He needed to talk to someone away from the fog of insanity he’d been dropped into the moment he’d landed on the plane a week ago.
 

Hello,” Lucy’s voice rasped on the phone.
 

“How do I start?” he said, his voice low. “How do I begin to change things?”

“Who—”
 

Tal found himself frustrated that she didn’t immediately know. “It’s Tal Bauman.”

A muffled female voice grumbled something and then he heard footsteps and a door close. “Jesus, it’s after midnight and what are you talking about?”

“It’s not good here. It’s time for me to act, but I don’t know how—”

He could hear her pull out her map. “Tal, I’ve got to fight a war with East and I don’t know how either. There’s not exactly a rule book to go with this shit.”

“I don’t know where to begin. It’s…there’s too much to think about.”

She yawned loudly. “Well, gather your people that you trust—”

“How do I know who I can trust?”

She went quiet. “I’m probably a terrible person to ask that question of. You know. Deep down, you just know.”

Tal thought about that. “And then what? When I know who?”

“Then you start deciding what you can do, and you do it. Don’t try and do it all at once. Pace yourself. Slow and steady.”

“How are you?” he thought to ask. “How are things?”

“No Cole yet,” she said quietly. “And no pictures, and no nothing. Andrew’s gone east to see if he can find out more information.”

“Leah slept with Connor. She thought she needed to be safe with me gone.”

The line went quiet. “Why would she think that?”

“Because that’s what he told her.”

“I don’t know why you let that miserable little shit—”
 

“Got it,” he muttered. “Don’t need the pep talk.”

“Bull’s going to handle Seattle. He’s going to call you about the arrangements.”

He frowned at the phone. “Why aren’t you calling me about it? I made the arrangement with you.”

Lucy exhaled and her voice wavered. “I’m trying here, Tal. I can’t do everything, and you’re…you’ve become…we’re trying to work things out, Zoey and me. I told her everything.”

Tal teetered on the edge of disappointed and curious about if he’d ever really had a chance.

“All right,” he replied curtly. “Tell Bull I’ll look forward to his call.”

That caused a long sigh on the other end of the phone. “You can call if you need to. If you want to talk. I—”

“I wouldn’t want to be a problem, since I hooked up with—”
 

“We didn’t hook up.”

“Since I hooked up with your girlfriend,” Tal said dryly, aware that it was childish to goad her, but unable to stop himself. “I’m sure that’s why you’re concerned.”

“Of course,” she muttered. “I’m…I’m going to go. Good luck.”

While he lay awake long into the night, pondering all the information he’d gathered that day, he remembered something poignant from when they’d been grabbed in Campbell.

She’d been beaten and he’d been sedated.
 

They’d told him where they were from, very clearly.
 

They’d gone after Lucy first. They’d ignored him when he’d run away, even though there were three of them.
 

He sat up in bed. He’d never been in any danger. He felt nauseous as the realizations slapped him in the face, one after the other and his mind raced with all the possible outcomes regarding what could have come to pass early that morning in Missouri. Lucy died. He reported on what happened, and started a war with Campbell and West on one side and East on the other, since he’d been an intended target too. Lucy lived. Things went as they had, and they were allies in a war against East. By some chance they both died. Campbell and West would avenge their deaths together. Tal had been a reluctant pain in the ass lately anyway.