Night Betrayed (16 page)

It dawned. “You’re pregnant?” Then he started chuckling. The very thought . . . it was amusing and horrifying all at once.

“Shhhh!” she snapped, as if the trees could hear. “Don’t say it so loud or he’ll be locking me up tomorrow. It’ll be the last damn time he lets me out on my own.” She’d planted her hands on her hips. “Maybe I should go with you . . . I could come back after this is all the hell over. Then I wouldn’t have him breathing down my damn neck all the fucking time.”

Lou was laughing out loud now. Zoë, with a baby? He could only imagine. She’d probably strap the poor thing on her chest in a little pouch and take it hunting for zombies. “I don’t think so. I take it he doesn’t know?”

Her almond-shaped eyes grew wide. “What the hell? Do you think I’m fucking crazy? The minute he finds out, I won’t see a damn arrow for nine months. Or longer.” She moaned. “He’s going to go flipping crazy on me.”

“You—uh—don’t seem too happy about it,” Lou ventured.

“Well, yeah. It’s kind of unexpected, for fuck’s sake.”

His heart sank a little. He and Elsie . . . they’d been on their way to being parents, but everything went wrong when she tried to deliver. It was more than forty-nine years ago, but he still mourned them both. If he’d just had one of them . . . 

“I mean, what the hell am I going to do—as a mom? I don’t know shit about nurturing and all that crap. But I think Quent . . . he’s going to be a hella good daddy,” Zoë said. And the smile on her face was just soft enough, just sheepish enough, to let him know that she was going to be okay with it. Once she got used to the idea.

“Congratulations,” Lou said. “And . . . stick near Envy. In case anything goes wrong. So Elliott can take care of things.”

Zoë huffed an exasperated puff of air up into her bangs. “Don’t you get started on me too. You’ve got places to go. What the hell are you waiting for?”

Lou saluted her and adjusted his pack. “Nothing.”

When he got back to the arcade late in the afternoon, Theo logged into his email to check on Lou’s reaction to what he’d learned about Brad Blizek and found three new messages. All from Sage. None from Lou.

And the first header from Sage was: Lou’s GONE!

Followed by:
WHERE
ARE
YOU?

And:
LOU
IS MISSING!!!!!!

Theo’s heart dropped to his knees. He couldn’t get the first message opened quickly enough.

Where are you? So relieved to hear from you. Have you heard from Lou? He’s missing. He left a note that he was going to find you. Is he with you?

The next message was a little less calm: Are you in contact with Lou? Where are you? Are you safe? Please respond. I’m waiting!

And the final one was practically shouting, which, if one knew Sage, was something one knew didn’t happen often—despite her fiery hair. DON’T
SEND
A
MESSAGE
AND
THEN
NOT
CHECK
YOUR
EMAIL
FOR
HOURS
WHEN
YOU
KNOW
I AM
SITTING
HERE
ALL
THE
TIME
, THEO! What the hell is going on? We’re worried about you and Lou. I
NEED
TO
HEAR
FROM
YOU
.
PLEASE
.

Ooops.

And shit.

Theo concentrated. Lou? You there?

Waiting. Waiting.

Lou?

Meanwhile, he typed: Sage, sorry. Dont have much access. Lou not w me. Will lyk asap. Am fine.

He sent the message then got up and walked over to the window, as if that might make the connection better. Lou. He tried again.

Just then, he heard the soft ding of the message program on the computer and, at the same time, felt the sensation of a mental response: What the fuck? The meaning, if not the actual wording, of Lou’s grumbly message came through loud and clear.

Where are you? Theo asked him.

He opened the email message—which was of course from Sage again. Finally!! Glad you’re okay. Where are you? I’m worried about Lou. Zoë said she met him leaving Envy. He said he was going to look for you. Haven’t you been in touch with him through your mental-thingy?

Lou stirred in response. On my way to find you.

Idiot. Theo sent back an affectionate reaction to him, and then began typing to Sage: Am talking to Lou now thru mental-thingy :) He is OK. Dont worry. More ltr.

Theo messaged back to Lou: Are you safe?

Dude. The heartfelt reply came through loud and clear.

Theo grinned in the light of the monitor and sent a message back. I’m coming to find you. Lou was southwest; he could feel the direction from which their connection was coming.

No! Not necessary.

The sensation and emotion in that response was vehement and unambiguous. Theo mulled on that for a minute, holding back his automatic, protective reaction. They might be twins, but it was certainly as if Lou was the grandfather and he was the younger man—at least physically. Lou was seventy-eight years old, and looked and moved that way. Theo did not like the idea of him out there alone.

Theo. Stay there. Am coming to you. Another very strong message. Help with Blizek.

But . . . Lou was by far the smartest man Theo had ever known—not that he’d ever fully admit that to his brother. Theo still couldn’t get Lou to admit that Torvalds—not Jobs—was the greatest genius who’d ever existed. Lou had lived in this new world as long as Theo had; in fact, he’d actually lived through the Change while Theo was unconscious in the subterranean chamber until he was found, days later.

Okay, he sent back in response to Lou. At least he knew he could always check on him. Network? he asked. He couldn’t imagine Lou leaving Envy without a microcomputer or some way to tap into the network. Maybe he’d even planned to set up NAPs along the way too.

Later. Driving. Roads are for shit.

Theo smiled and let the connection lapse. He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake, leaving Lou on his own. But he was right: he needed his help here. And he was a grown man, for God’s sake.

Despite the fact that the Resistance movement was Lou’s life and breath, and that he worked long hours with Theo (and Sage) to develop the network, to rebuild a very incomplete, but growing, Internet, and to begin to pull contacts together, he had no other life. Little pleasure and no adventure. Sure, Theo was known as the reckless one—but that was just because he was so overt about it.

It had, after all, been Lou who’d rewired the fire alarms to go off during midterms their junior year of high school. And who’d tried to make a sort of snowboard/ski jump off the top of their house in Seattle. (It was on the side of a small hill, which made it a logical attempt . . . or so they argued when confronted by their parents.)

Most of the people in Envy thought the old man was crazy, with his talk of conspiracies and repression—either that, or, more likely, people simply didn’t want to believe what he claimed could be true. Or, even more likely, there were just plain fearful of what would happen if they confronted the truth.

Theo had seen that sort of ignorance, fear, and apathy over and over. He’d also seen the effects of propaganda from powerful entities—such as had happened in Hitler’s Germany, as well as with twenty-first century North Korea before the Change. People could believe and buy into the most illogical, incorrect things if their minds were manipulated and their information restricted. The Strangers had their ways of doing both.

So Lou and the others kept their theories and knowledge to themselves as they quietly built their network of computers, and also of contacts embedded in various settlements around Envy.

Theo resolved to make communication with his brother regularly until he arrived. If he was in a truck, he guessed it couldn’t be more than a few days.

In the meantime, he had tonight—after dinner—to look forward to.

Thus, to say Theo was disappointed, when he sat down for dinner to find the table missing Selena, was an understatement. But . . . yeah. She wasn’t there, and although he, Sam, Frank, Tim (Tom?), and Vonnie all took their seats, there wasn’t even a place set for her. Yet the fact that Jennifer, who obviously ate with them as often as she assisted Selena, was also absent didn’t bother him in the least.

“Selena’s with a patient,” Vonnie explained, as if she’d read his mind. She set down a large dish with her customary verve, and the long-handled spoon became unbalanced and tipped out onto the table. “Two new ones today, plus Robert’s been holding on and Selena thinks he’s almost ready to go now too.”

Theo nodded and resisted the temptation to glance back down the hall toward what he’d come to think of as the hospice ward. Instead, he dug into the soup, spooning up quarter-sized carrot slices as he inhaled the delicious smell of roasted peppers.

“That probably happens a lot,” he said.

“Yeah,” Sam replied. His expression, although not as cool as it had been earlier, wasn’t what one would consider warm either. “All the time. We’re all used to it.” Same with his tone of voice.

Theo figured holding the hand of a dying person might put a bit of a damper on any amorous thoughts Selena might have had anyway. Probably just as well. There were other things he could be doing until the time was right . . . not that that meant he wouldn’t try and catch up with her later. Definitely.

But until then, he could easily occupy his time. “She’s going to be busy for a while,” Vonnie said, looking at Theo.

He got the message. But at the time, he didn’t realize it was going to be three days before he actually saw Selena again.

He did realize, though—with a start late on that third day—that he was feeling settled here at Blizek Beach. Working in the arcade, helping Frank with his garden and the animals and out on the grounds of the estate, he’d found some other things to occupy his time and thoughts.

He was comfortable. And even happy. And that was despite the fact that he couldn’t wait to back that hot piece of Selena into a dark corner somewhere . . . if he could ever get her alone.

“So . . . ,” Vonnie said as Theo brought a stack of dishes over to her after dinner one night. “How long you planning on sticking around here?”

The evening loomed ahead. Theo was getting a little restless, ready for companionship from someone he could talk to. He’d heard that one of Selena’s new patients had passed away, but that Robert was still clinging to life, against all odds. He wondered if she’d be able to get away. Surely she needed a break. Frank had commandeered Sam and his friend (whose name Theo had finally confirmed was neither Tim nor Tom nor even Tyler—but Andrew) to help with some work in the garden.

Theo grinned at Vonnie. “Just until I clear the table. I’ll let you handle the scrubbing and rinsing. I don’t want to ruin my hands.”

She laughed and bumped him cheerfully with her round hip as he dropped off the dishes. “You know that’s not what I meant. And at least you’ll clear the table without me having to ask, unlike Sammy-boy. If Frank doesn’t snag him quick enough, he disappears and heads down to the river to fish or over to Yellow Mountain to hang out with his friends. He might even do his homework, but it’s never top of the list.”

“Sounds like a typical teenager to me,” Theo said. “But he seems like a responsible kid, anyway.”

“He is, more than some. Misses having a dad around, though. Frank . . . well, he’s a good man, a very good man. But he’s too busy with all his projects to give him much time, and too durned deaf to hear half the things anyone says.” The dishes clashed and clattered merrily in the sink.

Theo turned back to the table. Holy crap. She wasn’t hinting—was she?—about how long I’m going to stay and how badly Sam needs a father. Was she?

After all, he’d only been here a week. And besides that, the kid didn’t seem terribly pleased with the idea of Theo being around. And why would Vonnie even think of him and Selena hooking up? Everyone else seemed to think that the age difference—such as it was—was some sort of cardinal sin.

“What happened to Sam’s dad?” Theo asked, figuring since she’d brought it up . . .

He didn’t miss Vonnie’s secretive smile. Holy Jewish Mother, she was matchmaking. How the hell should he take that?

“He and Selena had a disagreement and there was a big tragedy involved. She left—we all left; me, her, and Sammy-boy—and eventually ended up here. Was about seven, eight, maybe ten years ago now,” Vonnie said, her little nose wrinkling up. “We met Frank and he invited us to stay here.”

“A disagreement?” Theo asked.

Now Vonnie stopped all of her exuberant ablutions and looked at him. “He didn’t understand her and he didn’t trust her, when it all came down to it.”

Down to what?

“He was a damn fool,” Vonnie said, clanging and clinking at the sink again.

“Who was?”

Theo’s stomach did a pleasant little flip at the sound of Selena’s voice. She walked into the kitchen, giving him the briefest of glances—cool, so casual—and scooped up a handful of almonds.

“Brandon,” replied Vonnie, a definite sneer in her voice.

Selena’s expression tightened. “Didn’t you always teach me not to tell tales?”

Vonnie snorted, but instead of replying, she offered Selena a plate already filled with food. “Eat something and don’t lecture me. How’s Robert?”

“Doing all right. He’s not ready to go yet . . . maybe tomorrow or the next day. Stubborn guy. I expect Frank will be like that when it’s his time too.” She glanced toward the window, where the sun was low to the horizon, and nibbled on a piece of red pepper. Her hair, which had been pinned up, was sagging and hanging in sexy little strands around her face and neck. She was wearing jeans and, instead of a loose tunic, a short shirt that showed the curve of her ass and was buttoned down the front.

Hmmm . . . easy access. And his skin was already prickling with expectation.

Theo dried his hands on a towel and caught Selena’s eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, referring to the dying man and trying to keep his thoughts on the matter at hand . . . not on the way that one button between her breasts was straining a bit more than the others. He’d be happy to relieve its pain. “Is he in a lot of discomfort?”