Authors: Christopher Pike
Wasting the carport and garage may have been merely a minor demonstration. His story could be seen as a parallel to their situation. Eagle had granted Dove the decision of who was to live, and who was to die.
Had the old man granted Robin similar authority, and had she made a deal for her life?
Interesting how, by simply thinking about the old man, she could tell he was near. It was as though he was surrounded by an invisible shell that alerted both parties of impending contact. Shani stood. It was still warm but she shivered. The sun was gone, the light failing swiftly. Thickening clouds threatened a downpour. Only moments ago she had been contemplating his evilness. Now she felt impelled to climb the remainder of the hill and — sheknew he was there — meet him. A flickering orange glow from a hidden fire served as a beacon. She glanced back at the house. She was being given a choice, she felt, and not being controlled. But her suspicion list was long and jotted with question marks, with not a single answer. She had to return to the house with more than she had left. Whispering a prayer for protection, she started towards the light.
He was alone, dressed in white, sitting cross-legged near a small fire, facing the twilight. He did not look up as she approached. She noticed yellow flowers — dandelions — blooming in a nearby bush.
Instinctively, she plucked them.
"Hello," she said, holding forth her small bouquet. He looked at her then and smiled faintly, stretching out his hand to accept her gift. His hair was long and silver, his posture straight and firm. Energy sparkled in his clear eyes. Taking the flowers, he touched her briefly, gesturing that she should sit beside him. His hand was warm, soft. She made herself comfortable.
"I don't speak Spanish, but I wanted to talk to you. Do you understand me?"
He nodded, putting the flowers in a clay vase filled with water. He smiled for her to go on. He had a nice smile. It seemed on the verge of bursting forth into laughter, a frail cap on a well of unfathomable joy.
Any thought that he was evil dissolved.
"I know you know Robin… Robin Carlton?" She took a breath. "Is she going to die?"
What was she waiting for? He couldn't speak English, even if he could somehow sense her meaning. Yet he seemed to be considering her question. He raised his head, whistled softly. A few seconds later a blackbird landed at the edge of the camp and walked purposefully towards him, hopping on to his shoulder. He whispered to the bird. The way it nodded in response, Shani could not help but believe it understood what he was saying. The bird stared at her, cocking its head quizzically, as though wondering, what's your problem, girl? She wanted to laugh, but it suddenly left its perch on the old man's shoulder and landed on hers. For a moment she was frightened, lest it peck at her eyes. But then it began to tug lightly at her hair with its beak, creating the same sensation as when she got her hair cut, a sensation she found divinely relaxing. The old man began to hum softly. The fire crackled and sparkled, the flames dancing in rhythm with the pleasing chant. She was suddenly so very sleepy that she had to close her eyes. The bird teased individual hair shafts, which she imagined were attached deep inside her brain, stimulating areas she seldom used, soothing areas she used too often. Her anxieties began to fall off. And her head began to fall…
It was dark; the man and fire were gone. Far below, the hill was slipping quickly behind as her perspective glided effortlessly over the weed-choked miles. Up ahead was the Carlton Castle, the black ocean beyond, both approaching swiftly. A warm light shone through a window on the top storey of the house. Her course focused there, and a moment later she hovered outside the closed window. Robin lay inside, asleep beneath a patchwork quilt. She wanted to speak to her, reassure herself that she was okay.
Was that not why she was here? But when she tried to tap on the window, her arms were sluggish and lacked strength. Robin dreamed on. However, there were two others in the room, and they heard the knocking. One of them rose from Robin's desk and hurried to the window, pulling back the curtains.
In amazement, she stared back, staring at herself.
"Good-bye," Shani said, standing. "I'll have to come and visit you again with Robin so we can talk together." She chuckled, embarrassed. "Next time I promise I won't fall asleep. I don't, usually."
He nodded, returning her smile. Though they had been unable to converse, she felt his calming presence had relieved many of her worries. Her doubts and questions were still there, but they seemed far away, troubling someone else. Her untimely nap had been especially refreshing. She'd had the strangest dream… one she couldn't quite remember. She wondered where the bird was. Vaguely, while she had been dozing, she recalled it having launched itself into the night, plucking a beakful of hair off the crown of her head in the process. The old man took one of the flowers, gave it to her.
"Que bonita," he said.
Leaving the warmth and peace of the man, she clutched the memory of his smile as tightly as the dandelion.
Halfway between the hill and the house, in a dark no-man's-land of silhouetted cacti and starless sky, she heard a sudden rattle. It appeared far in front. No problem, she would circle around. Leaving the right side of the path, she steered a wide arc through the sharp shrubs towards the beach. Before this weekend was over, her legs would be a mass of scratches. The rattle faded behind her.
But once off the path, she could not find it again. On the way to the hill, if her memory served her correctly, the trail had followed a fairly straight course. Veering to the left should have brought her automatically back to the path. Wait a minute, maybe she hadn't been on the same trail as before! Maybe the second one had simply dead-ended, and there was nothing to veer back to.
Still, Shani was not worried. All she had to do was head in the direction of the ocean and she would be okay. As soon as she could climb out of this dry ravine she had managed to stumble into, she would be able to tell which way that was.
On what she thought was the west side, the walls of the gully were steep and slippery. Chunks of gravel broke under her clawing fingers as she tried to pull herself up. Walking fifty yards further along through a congestion of weeds and stones, she tried again. Unfortunately, on the verge of climbing free, the thumbnail on her right hand broke. Crying in pain, she lost her balance, sliding slowly back into the ditch and starting a minor avalanche. Dirt toppled down her drenched shirt, sticking to her chest. She thrust her wounded finger in her mouth, grimacing in pain, tasting blood. She wished the old man were with her now. Somewhere, she had lost her flower.
Shani was preparing for a third effort when she heard the rattle again. It was louder this time, much closer. Ploughing on all fours, she tried to scamper up the disintegrating wall. But the harder she tried, the more she slipped. Rocks disappeared in the black bushes below, angering her assailant. A shadow squirmed, breath hissed. Shani kicked off her shoes, praying for better traction. But she was only digging her own grave.
"Help!!!" she wailed. Turning, she searched for a decent stone. The direction of the rattle was impossible to ascertain, but if the thing bit her, it was going to leave with one hell of a headache. Why had she gone and taken off her shoes?
"Are you stuck, Shani?"
"Flynn!!!" She couldn't see him, but the voice was from above. "Help me up! A snake's got me cornered!"
"It won't bite you unless you corner it."
"I don't think this one knows that! Where are you!?"
He crouched into view, leaned over, binoculars hanging from his neck. "Give me your hand."
She tried, and failed. "I can't reach you!" The rattle shook to a frenzy. "Shoot it!"
"I can't see it. Calm down. You're slipping because you're in a hurry. Dig your hands and feet firmly into the dirt, climb slowly."
She did as he suggested, and a moment later he was pulling her safely to her feet. The rattling stopped, but she wasn't crazy about the neighbourhood. Flynn ended up chasing after her. "Are you running from me or the snake?" he called.
"Damn!" she cried, stepping on thorns. She had forgotten about her bare feet. Plopping down miserably in the dark and dirt, she pulled the stickers, one by one, out of her tender flesh, blood trailing from each puncture.
"What's wrong?" Flynn asked, coming up to her.
"I gave my shoes to the snake."
"I'll get them for you." He snapped on a flashlight, dazzling her eyes. In his other hand, he held his gun.
"Don't! It might bite you." But if he left, maybe she would make another dash for it. She had been running from both of them.
"I can't carry you back to the house. Don't worry, I have thick skin."
He left her, and she was more afraid. She would wait. A minute crept by… two. Suddenly the silence cracked. Shani jumped. He had used his gun. For a moment she had thought that it had been on her. A bobbing light approached. He handed her the shoes. While brushing the soles of her feet, she asked, "Am I next?"
He laughed. "Now that's no question to ask your knight in shining armour. I did, after all, just rescue you."
Her laces, her fingers, were in knots. "I could have killed the snake myself. And I wouldn't have needed a gun,Michael ."
"I'm sure you could have. How're your feet?"
"Fine, thank you."
He smiled. "And I thought you liked me. Here I was worried about you, and volunteered to prowl the snake-infested wild to find you. What have I done to deserve that tone?"
"Are you making fun of me?"
"Probably."
She pulled on her shoes. "I don't trust someone who lies about who he is, breaks into people's filing cabinets, and is such a coward that he has to carry a gun."
"Well, at least you're afraid of me."
"A blackbird is more fearsome than you." He terrified her. He could put a bullet in her brain right now and chances were no one would be any wiser. However, his pistol was now out of sight. He turned away, staring up at the cloud-choked sky.
"Isn't it possible that I might have reasons for doing what I am doing? Reasons that you would approve of if you knew all the details?"
"What are your reasons?"
"I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"I can't tell you."
"Then I don't trust you."
He looked at her, his green eyes wary in the harsh shadows cast by the flashlight. "Don't tell the others who I am."
"Why shouldn't I?" She was gambling, playing the tough role, but she doubted that kissing up to him would deceive him. Her Nikes remained untied. Her stomach began to cramp. It had nothing in it. She'd thrown up on the way to the hill. He knelt by her side. His profile belonged on the big screen. He touched her arm.
"Because I'm asking you not to. Trust me, Shani. Please? Before the night's over, I think, everything will be made clear."
"I want to," she whispered, then hardened. "I'm not the only one who's on to you. Nurse Porter talked to Lena last night. She told her to watch out for you."
He frowned: "What else did she say?"
"I don't know if I should—"
"Tell me!"
She cowered. "Nothing else, just that you were probably up to no good."
"Did she use my real name?"
"No. She said they were making some checks on you, that she would talk to Lena today."
"Anything else?"
"No."
"You're sure?"
"She thought you were after Robin."
"The phones…" he muttered, looking back at the house. "Who was going to call who?"
"Lena said she would call Miss Porter. I don't know why I'm telling you all this."
Flynn was distracted, deep in thought. "The lines were down before the explosion… Hmmm." He smiled, patted her back. "Thank you for the information. But it doesn't surprise me. And I don't think it will change anything, not now."
Shani wondered what she had done, all out of weakness for a beautiful face. "You're not going to hurt Robin are you?"
"Why would I hurt Robin?"
"You've been hanging around her, bringing all her food and drinks."
"I'm trying to protect her."
"From what?"
"From getting poisoned."
"What?"
"She was poisoned once. She now has the very same people around her as last time. I would say she stands an excellent chance of having it happen to her again."
"But that was an accident."
"I don't think so." He paused. "Did you do it? The first time, I mean?"
"No! How could you think such a thing?"
"I didn't really think that you did. But the others… There is a bad apple in there somewhere. Maybe two."
"It probably wasn't an accident," she said sadly. "And Bert… You didn't seem too upset over what happened to him."
He was harsh. "What do you know aboutmy feelings?"
It was the first time he had dropped his guard. "I'm sorry. I… it's just that I don't know anything about you. Why are you so concerned about Robin? What's she to you?"
He went to speak, but stopped. Her question seemed to hurt him. But then he shrugged and smiled. "I'm concerned about you, too."
"Don't change the subject."
"I like you, Shani."
"You're playing with me again."
"No, I'm not."
"Why?" She wished her voice hadn't trembled.
"Because you're so sweet and beautiful."
He kissed her. For a moment, she didn't respond. Then her arms went around his neck and she was pulling him closer. This was madness! But she liked it! Not breaking contact, he sat down beside her, putting pressure on one leg. His hands crept beneath her shirt, touched her lower back. She began to cough, turned away.
Laughing, he said, "I didn't know I was that bad."
"It's not you!" she breathed. Boy, she was a real winner all round. At least James Bond's ladies got a little sex before he killed them. "This air… my throat's dry."
"Is that the only problem?"
"No. I don't even know you." She was still coughing.
His voice was suddenly grave. "Don't you?"
"No."
"But you recognize me. You and Park, you both recognize me."