Moon Music (52 page)

"Yeah, there's some junk—"

"Be careful of snakes."

"Yeah, you're right. It could be an animal's den." He brought his hand out, bringing up a fistful of feathers. Poe spread them on the ground.

Beautifully marked long tail feathers. The kind used in Indian headdresses. From a big bird. Like an eagle or a hawk—

Poe blanched.

"What is it?" Rukmani asked.

He had turned speechless. The image—that massive
hawk
circling above when he was with Rukmani in the car. Squawking at him. As if it wanted to intrude upon his privacy.

Absurd thoughts raced through his brain.

Lashing out at him like some kind of animal. Lashing out at Steve in the same way. Eating Gretchen's raw flesh while costumed like a wolf.

Was it a costume?

The red, pitying eyes of the coyote.

The fierceness of that snake's bite.

The man with the ponytail who repeatedly outran him.

It was too weird to contemplate. Yet, he did.

"Romulus, you're white!" Rukmani said. "What is it?"

"It isn't Lewiston." Poe started to pace. "It isn't Lewiston at all. It's
Alison
! Steve Jensen owns a four-wheel-drive—an Explorer." He spoke quickly and animatedly as he walked in circles. "Somehow, Alison managed to kidnap Patricia in her own car."

"How could she do that?"

"Same way she got Steve in the trunk of his car," he said, speed-talking. "Alison carries Patty back to the Saturn, drives her off to a hidden spot, then switches to a four-wheeler. Once she's in an off-roader, she can go anywhere…do anything…"

"How'd she get Patricia back to the car without leaving footprints?"

"Metempsychosis!" Poe's eyes were wild. "She
flew
back."

"
Excuse
me?"

He grabbed Rukmani's shoulder. "Don't you see? She
shapeshifted
. She was that hawk that we saw—"

"Rom—"

"She flew Patricia back to her car, carrying her in her talons. Which explains why she used the car. She couldn't carry Patricia a long distance. Too much weight. So she shape-shifted back into Alison or some other human form and kidnapped Patricia in her own car."

Rukmani stared at him. "Rom, I don't know
what
you're talking about!"

"I'm right about this." Poe clutched her shoulders, digging his fingers into her skin just below the point of pain.

"I know it sounds insane, but I'm right!" Breathing hard, his clothes drenched in sweat. "It's just like Steve said. She's out to destroy anything she perceives as dear to me. And somehow she's got this magical power to do it. Shape-shifting just like in your legends—"

"Rom, they were
legends
! Which meant they're not
real—"

"But what if it
is
real? All the radiation fallout from the atmospheric shots. I mean, radiation…especially huge concentrations of radiation…it can work havoc on the cells."

"Yes, it renders them useless."

"Not in Alison's case! In her case, it gave her some kind of unimaginable ability to change form." He let go of Rukmani and looked up at the sky as he bounced on his feet. "And that's why the legends always came with a full moon. I mean, just look at what a full moon does. It controls the ocean waves."

"Rom, that's gravity-related, not radiation."

But Poe wasn't listening. "You take massive fallout from an atomic bomb and couple it with radiation from a full moon, who knows what you could produce?"

Again, all Rukmani could do was stare at him. Talking as if he were having a full-blown manic episode.

Still pacing. He said, "We don't have a clue as to what all this atmospheric radiation did to us. Not a clue. The Department of Energy has never been honest with the bomb's long-term effects. They've got thousands of pages of classified documents that we can't even touch."

"I agree with you," Rukmani said calmly. "We haven't been told the full story—"

"I mean, look at all this cloning shit," Poe exclaimed. "Big mammals being duplicated in test tubes. So what's the next logical step…shape-shifting, right? Turning the cells not just from one mammal to another, but turning them between species. Maybe all those legends weren't…legends. Maybe it wasn't lycanthropy at all. Maybe they knew something we didn't."

Again, he grabbed her shoulders.

"I've got to find her, Ruki. I've got to find her, and fast! Before she destroys Patricia!"

Rukmani looked at Poe with intense concern. He was uncontrollably agitated, sweating and ticcing and shaking. Rukmani had seen that look before, the same set of neurological impaired behaviors in mentally disturbed patients right before they took their Thorazine. How could Rom be so logical one moment, searching out footprints with a cold, rational eye, then speak such lunacy?

The scope and breadth of human behavior.

Remain calm.

She said, "Romulus, I'm not debating you. What you're saying…makes sense—"

"In a crazy way, it does, doesn't it?"

"But if Alison's out for you, we should leave the search to someone who's not personally involved—"

"No, no, no, no, no." Poe backed away, spasming as he talked. "I've got to face her. I'm
part
of it. It's what made me what I am, made Alison what she is." He headed back toward his car. "We're all victims, don't you see?"

"Rom—"

"You take my mother and Anya back to your apartment and lock the doors!" He broke into a jog. "I'm off to see the wizard. I'll call you from the car."

Rukmani had to run to keep up with him. "Romulus, where are you going? Please talk to me—"

"No time—"

She pulled at his shirtsleeve, but he shook her off. "Romulus, please! You're scaring me!"

He jerked open the car door.

"Poe, you're in no shape to drive. You're going to have an accident!"

"Call backup for me." Poe revved the engine. He rolled down the window. "Take care of yourself, Rukmani. I love you."

Had the words registered in Rukmani's mind, she would have been even more frantic. Instead, she cried out, "At least tell me where you're going!"

"Where it all started!" he shouted as he peeled rubber. "Nevada Test Site!"

FORTY-EIGHT

I 
WANT
you to know that it's not personal.

Had Patricia been able to talk, she would have told Alison:
Fuck you, you crazy bitch
. Instead, she lay mute on the floor of the maniac's four-wheel-drive, secured with a rope to the back bench. Her hands and feet were tightly bound, her mouth had been taped shut. The bitch had provided a pillow for her head and had left her eyes alone. As Patricia tried to get comfortable—her fists were digging into her spine—she appraised the situation in stark terror. After the hopelessness subsided, she started to think. How to get out of this mess?

How had she gotten
into
this mess?

She still wasn't sure. Last thing she remembered was being knocked down by the mammoth-sized bird—a strange avian creature with a half-human face. She hadn't had time to examine the oddity with scientific coldness, because she had lost consciousness. When she came to, she had already been in this horrid fix—restrained and helpless. Alison had used plastic ties instead of rope, making it virtually impossible to break free. She was emitting a constant stream of babble—a crazed woman who seemed to possess enormous strength and endless chatter.

"It was never personal," Alison prattled. "Not with any of them. They were just a way of getting attention. You know how that works, don't you?"

As if Patricia could answer her. The lack of response didn't stop her psychotic twaddle.

"No, never personal, never personal…well, maybe with
Steve
it was a little personal. I mean, how could it not be with those floozies he'd been seeing. Not that I blame him
completely
. I haven't been hot in the sack for a long time. I mean, I could be hot in the sack, but not with Steve, no, not with Steve. Never with Steve. And not with the kids around. You know how kids are. They come in at all the darnedest time—whoops!"

The four-wheeler bounced over a rock and landed on its tires with a thud and thump.

Alison giggled. "Must be hard on the butt, huh? I'll try to be more careful. I owe you a nice ride. Not too good on my spine, either. You know who's fault it really is? It's Rom's fault. You're just a way to get to him. If he would have been more observant, none of this would've happened. You guys call yourselves policemen, but you're awfully slow. A man's mistress is sliced and dumped in the desert and no one even questions the wife. That's a little dense, don't you think?"

Yes
, Patricia thought.
It was very dense.

"Totally Rom's doing. He didn't want to get Stevie in trouble for my sake. He has a blind spot when it comes to me. He still loves me…still loves me very much."

A breath.

"Even if he doesn't realize it. I realize it. He's trying to fight it. Whoops…hold on!"

Again, she giggled as the car flew into space and landed on the dusty ground with a jolt. Alison lessened the pressure on the accelerator, dropping the speed to around sixty.

"Someone should pave the desert, get rid of all the sinkholes. Just mop the whole thing up with asphalt. Make it one big parking lot—with transportation into the hotels, of course. It'd sure save the city on a mound of traffic. Good idea, huh? I'm surprised that some rich, greedy contractor hasn't bid for the job. Paving the desert. Well, that would be interesting, huh?"

She paused for another inhalation of air.

"Well, I think it would be interesting. Pave the whole state of Nevada. Nevada as one big blacktop. One big circus. Because really that's what it is. The circus of a lifetime, starting with the silver rush, then the gambling. I mean, even the bombs were one big circus. That's what they were, all for show. I mean, what? We explode something like a
thousand
bombs into our atmosphere after exploding only
two
bombs in enemy territory. Now you tell me, who came out better, huh?"

Neglecting to mention that the bombs exploded in Japan had fallen on civilian populations. Why let logic enter into paranoia? If she would only shut the fuck up, then maybe Patricia could
think
. She tried to raise her head. A feather tickled her nose. Resting on the backseat was an oversized Indian headdress, along with a hairy gorilla mask and a brown derby just like the one Big Ray had described on the hatted man.

No one even questions the wife!

Alison must have noticed her looking at the paraphernalia, because she started talking again.

"You like my feather hat…the bird bit? I thought it was clever. I can do all sorts of clever things. By now, you must have figured out that I've got this power…this unbelievable power given to me courtesy of Uncle Sam. Because Uncle Sam poisoned the well. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

A pause.

"
Radiation
, Patricia. Radiation with a capital R. I mean, you guys—meaning the American People—you don't know the half of it. Or the third of it, or the quarter of it. Or even a teaspoon of it. It's like measuring cups. Uncle Sam gives you a quarter cup of sugar here, a teaspoon of vanilla there. But he never bakes you the whole cake. So you never put the entire puzzle together. Just like Rom. He thinks the stuff he found in my house was the whole picture."

A snort.

"Like I'd show him the whole picture. Let him figure it out for himself, that's what I say!"

Shut up!

"I left him with just enough to get a scent. A hint. Gotta play fair, gotta play fair, that's what I say. But I don't think he's figured it out yet. I mean, he's figured out
some
of it—"

Think, Patricia. Think!

"…have faith in Rom. Eventually he'll get it. Unfortunately, not soon enough for you. The poor boy is dim-witted sometimes. You should have seen him in high school, twitching like a flea on a griddle. But it never, ever dawned on him
why
he was twitching. I mean, wouldn't you be curious why you twitched when no one else was twitching?"

Again, Alison paused for air. If Patricia could just get the ties off. Or even get the tape off her mouth. Then maybe she could
talk
her down. She grunted as loud as she could, but Alison didn't seem to notice.

"I just want to reiterate, Detective. It isn't personal."

Fuck you!

"…blame anyone, blame the government. Do you honestly think they're telling you everything? They're not telling you
anything
."

Patricia groaned.

Alison made a face. "Are you doing okay?"

Patricia shook her head and made sounds.

"You want to talk, don't you? You think if we talk, we'll be buddies, and then I won't do what I have to do. No go, Detective. I'm very sorry, but you're about to become another statistic."

Patricia groaned again.

"Now, don't you get all pissy at
me!
Just remember it's Uncle Sam's fault. I'll be showing you why in a matter of maybe…ummmm, ten or fifteen minutes. We got a very good jump and I made excellent time. We left LVMPD way behind, the boys back there all bogged down in looking for your car. Well, good luck to them. I know the caves, they don't. I know the desert, they don't. Rom knows the desert. Maybe he'll figure it out. Anyway, forget about them. You won't believe where we're going."

Alison heard Patricia desperately mumbling.

"All right, all right.
Maybe
I'll take the tape off. If you're good. Like I said, it's nothing personal. You know where we're going?"

"Waaaa?" Patricia muttered out.

"To the beginning, Detective. A United States of America original creation. That's what it is, you know. A new creation. Just like God. Only this one is evil. Nuclear evilness. No one can debate that!"