Penult (49 page)

***

At first we drove evasively, without
apparent aim, turning south along the shore then west towards the
mountains, before making our way back up north to catch the
A96.

The wind blasted Jess through the
shattered window. She daubed at specks of poor Reggie’s blood with
a Kleenex and tossed away bits of broken window glass.

We passed endless farms and fields.
Around every curve, at every junction, I expected roadblocks. Every
car that overtook us, I feared was the police or the Friends. But
for four hours we drove unmolested, stopping in Inverness only to
use the loo and grab a sandwich. We were headed now for a place
called Thurso, where Jess said we could catch a ferry.

“
Do you know any place we
can ditch this car?”

“
The ferry terminal has a
car park.”

“
Well, no. We need
someplace where no one would find it right away. Otherwise, it’ll
be traced to us on the island. You realize we’re gonna be murder
suspects.”

“
M-murder? Oh my.” Her eyes
glazed. Her posture stiffened as she considered the implications of
my remark.

“
Are there any cliffs
around maybe we can roll this thing off?”

“
Actually, yes. Up on the
headlands, there are plenty.” She patted the upholstery and
frowned. “But….”

“
What’s wrong?”

“
Such a shame to ruin this
nice Vauxhall.”

“
Never mind that. I’ll buy
you a new one. Come on, show me how to get there.”

We drove a little further down the
paved road, passing Thurso town and the ferry port, and continued
north to some fields and moors where we turned up a rough track
leading through some overgrown and shrubby ledges to the edge of
the cliffs.

The brisk wind whistled through our
broken windows. Whitecaps topped the breakers rolling in off the
North Sea. I half-expected to encounter a brigade of Cherubim
scaling these bluffs. Even the seagulls make me look twice and
count their wings.

We got out. I left the car running,
found a big enough rock to weight down the gas pedal, reached over
the seat and threw it into gear. The car rolled over the edge and
flipped over, crashing upside down into the rocks below.
Unfortunately, the tide was out and the vehicle remained completely
exposed in the rocky shallows. At least it hadn’t burst into
flames.

“
Oh my, this is not ideal,
is it?” said Jess.

“
It’s fine. When the tide
comes in it’ll be underwater. Come on, let’s go catch that
ferry.”

***

It took us the good part of an hour to
reach the ferry port. On the plus side, there was absolutely no one
around to witness our approach. There was a farmer on the far end
of one of the worked fields, but he was too intent on his haying to
even notice us.

Doubts began to harry me. “Are we
doing the right thing? I mean, going to an island? There would be
no place to run.”

“
It depends. I still don’t
understand why they are chasing you. These … Friends … as you
called them.”

“
Simple. They don’t want me
meddling in … in … their business. In the afterlife.”

“
I see. Well … on the plus
side … I suppose Stromness would be the last place they would
expect you to go. I doubt very much I’m on their radar. And they
surely don’t know my Aunt Meredith.”

“
I hate to say this, but if
they were able to track me all the way to Aberdeen, they probably
know all about you gals.”

“
Nonsense. I have no skin
in this fight. I’ve never even been to this Root place. I’ve got no
plans to go, frankly.”

“
You’re helping me. That’s
enough to make you a target.”

She stared out over the docks in the
harbor. “Regardless.” She shrugged and gave a sneer. “I have no
regrets. Seems a worthy cause, regardless of the consequences.
Unfortunately, this means our search for Karla is over. For us,
anyhow. I suppose the others will carry on. I didn’t get a chance
to tell you, we have some solid leads.”

I let my breath out in a
burst.

“
Did you not you read my
note? I’m all done looking for her. Turns out, she’s no hostage.
She ran off on her own.”

“
Are you sure about
this?”

I sighed. “Pretty damn sure. Turns
out, she ran off to put pressure on me. To make me feel bad so … so
I would cross over.”

“
Well now. That certainly
sheds a different light on things.”

“
Listen, Jess. I’m just
thinking … for your safety, it might be best if we split
up.”

That suggestion rattled her a bit. She
frowned at me. “I’m not worried about safety, love. Honestly. I’m
all in.”

“
But you don’t need to go
to this island just for me.”

“
Honestly. It’s a good a
place as any to hang out, now with the farm gone. And things were
getting a little too cozy for my taste in Fiona and Britt’s little
townhouse. Don’t get me wrong, they’re lovely gals. I just need my
private space.”

“
Okay. Then … let’s
go.”

Chapter 53:
Stromness

We followed the road down from the
bluffs, arriving at the piers of Scrabster Harbor Terminal just as
the 1:15 p.m. ferry to Stromness was loading up. The black card
Reggie had given me was burning a hole in my pocket, but I wasn’t
quite ready to use it to book passage. Might as well blow the rest
of my cash while we were still trying to remain
incognito.

I had never been on a boat this large
before and worried I might get seasick. But I was fine. My stomach
lurched a bit, but everything stayed where it was supposed
to.

Jess and I hung out on the upper deck
by the smokestacks, staring at the surf. The water looked as
impenetrable as steel. I was feeling down and defeated. There was a
hole in my heart where my feelings for Karla had been and it didn’t
seem fillable.

I still loved this beautiful, ugly
world. This was where I wanted to be, surrounded by this ocean,
this land and this sky. The roots knew this, and that’s why they
stayed away.

An hour and a half later my
ferry-conditioned legs were still yielding and flexing against
imaginary swells as we walked the solid cobbles of Stromness. The
island town was all narrow lanes and grey stone buildings. Every
village in Europe looked like a fairy tale to a kid from
Florida.

Jessica led the way to the grassy
heights above the town. We picked up some cheese and bread from a
grocer along the way. Aunt Meredith’s cottage looked abandoned, its
shingles retaining whitewash only in the deepest
grooves.

She fished a key out from under a heap
of broken flower pots in an herb garden bursting with lavender,
sage and thyme. The heavy oaken door creaked open to a musty parlor
crammed with ancient furniture draped with crocheted afghans and
doilies. Jess and I pushed open some windows to air the place
out.

I collapsed into an overstuffed easy
chair in the main room while Jessica raided the cupboards of a tiny
kitchen.

“
Do you like mussels?
Smoked in a tin?”

“
Beats smoking them in a
pipe.”

She ignored my quip. “They might go
nice with our cheese and bread. Ah! And it looks like Auntie has
some spirits stashed behind everything. Would you fancy a shot or
two of schnapps? Might take the edge off our nerves.”

“
Sure. Why not?”

We lunched in the sitting room.
Neither of us had much to say. But eventually, after her second hit
of schnapps, Jessica’s curiosity got the better of her.

“
These Friends of Penult, I
take it this man they shot was not also a ‘Friend?’”

“
Not of Penult, anyhow. You
might say he was friend of Frelsi. One of the folks who help souls
transition to the afterlife. Permanently. To become Freesouls. He’s
kind of like a mercy killing assassin.”

“
Mercy …
killing?”

“
You could call it assisted
suicide. He kills people who really, really want to leave this
world, but don’t want to go to the Deeps. You do it the right way
and you could get stuck in the Liminality. But that’s a good thing.
Or at least, used to be. It pays … really well.”

“
So, let me see if I
understand this. The Friends of Penult kill mercy killers because
they want to keep the people who want to die alive? That seems a
bit non-sensical, don’t you think? Kind of like the pro-life folks
who kill doctors.”

“
They believe it goes
against the natural order not to let the Reapers choose who goes
and who stays. There’s like a war going on between those who become
Freesouls through the back door, against the rules, so to speak …
and the Freesouls who did it the proper way … or so they
say.”

“
These Friends of Penult
might have a point, don’t you think? Suicide, assisted or not, is
not what God intended … for anyone.”

“
Well … that’s assuming
there actually is a God … and that He actually gives a shit about
what any of us common folks do.”

“
You speak of angels and
afterlives and yet you suppose there might be no God
involved?”

“
I’m just saying … maybe
there is a God but He gave up on us. Or maybe … He’s dead. No one
seems to be minding the shop over there.”

“
Not even these angels of
Penult?”

“
I keep telling you, these
guys are no angels. And they’re not in charge of anything. They’re
just sticking their noses into things that are none of their
business. That’s why I’m helping out the other side. And that’s why
these so-called ‘Friends’ are after me.”

Jessica sat there, contemplating her
glass of schnapps.

“
What will they do with you
if they catch you?”

“
Kill me … most
likely.”

“
And your soul … where then
would it go?”

“
I’m not sure. The Deeps, I
guess. Unless there’s some other place I don’t know
about.”

Jessica slid back her chair and went
to a cupboard near the mantle.

“
My uncle used to own a
handgun, I remember. Auntie used to nag him to make sure the
cupboard was locked when the nephews and nieces came to visit. If
only I can find the key.”

“
Jess … I don’t need a gun.
I have … other ways.”

“
So you tell me. But I
don’t have any of these … ways. If you conk out again, I need to be
able to protect myself.”

She slid her hand along the mantle
top. Her eyes lit up.

“
Found it!”

She scrambled to unlock the cupboard,
and removed a very ancient looking revolver, with a cracked grip
and a tarnished barrel.

“
And there are bullets
too!”

“
Jess. If these guys come
after us. Just run away. Don’t try and mess with them. Don’t
protect me. It’s not worth it.”

“
Yeah right. I’m just going
to let them barge right in and assassinate or mercy kill you. Fat
chance I’m going to sit idly by or, God forbid, run off if that
happens.”

“
Jess, please.”

“
Will you shush? I am a
grown woman capable of making my own decisions! I will assess the
situation at hand and react appropriately.”

“
Not that I can stop you
once I’m crossed over. Just … be careful.”

***

Our schnapps-lubricated lunch went to
our heads and made us both a bit loopy. Jess told me about growing
up in small town Wales as a weird mix of tom boy and blue-haired
emo artist. Not only did she collect and repair old lawn mowers,
she liked to carve winged dragons from uprooted tree trunks. She
showed me pictures of her work on her phone and they were amazing.
I had seen her whittling off and on at Cwm Gyrdd farm, but I never
suspected she was a sculptor.

Every now and then, one of us would
peek out a window to make sure no strange people were stalking us.
We never found cause for alarm and never saw anything out of the
ordinary apart from a stray pig that wandered by chomping on a corn
cob.

The cottage had no TV or radio, not
that it mattered. I was completely out of touch with the world at
this point. China could have invaded Hawaii for all I knew. The
Miami Dolphins could have won the World Series.

With night approaching, it was time to
scrounge another meal from the well-stocked pantry. Jess improvised
a dinner from pasta and tomato sauce and canned sausages that was
worthy of a candelabra.

We locked the doors and shuttered the
windows. Jess gave me a quick and furtive hug before retiring up a
narrow staircase to the loft that held her Auntie’s bed. I
collapsed on an overstuffed sofa in the parlor.

I was out in a flash.

***

Simple dreams awaited me, but the
Singularity’s flow never strayed too far from my subconscious these
days. My dreams were jumbled. Me digging holes in my backyard in
Fort Pierce, finding tangles of worms. Me driving north on the
interstates, thunderstorms in the distance, huge insects splatting
on my windshield. Not Lalibela huge. More like sparrow and robin
dimensions.