F Paul Wilson - Novel 05 (46 page)

 
          
And
then the man fades away, and little Sammi and Julie fade away, but the woods
remain. So do the chill and the hunger. You sense it could take you hours to
find your way out of these woods. You don't have time for that.

 
          
You
click EXIT.

 
          
T.
S.
Eliot:

 
          
"Footfalls
echo in the memory

 
          
Down
the passage which we did not take."

—
Random
notes: Julia Gordon

1

 
          
Julie
rubbed her eyes as she leaned back in the recliner and waited for her mind to
slow its chaotic whirl.

 
          
So
many questions
—
too
many questions.

 
          
But
first
—
see to Sam.

 
          
Julie
got up, turned off the VCR, and then removed Sam's headset. She paused and
stared down at her sister's pale, relaxed features as a rush of tender feelings
almost overwhelmed her.

 
          
"We've
been through a lot, haven't we, sis? Been through hell, in fact." She
touched Sam's cheek with the backs of her fingers. "Dear, dear Sam. If
only I'd known then what 1 know now ... if only Eathan had told us.... It would
have been so different. Maybe
—
"

 
          
Her
throat constricted.

           
I
think I'm going to cry.

 
          
What
an odd sensation. Was that a sob building in her chest? And tears pressing
against the backs of her lids?

 
          
She
swallowed and the feeling passed. Don't
want to break my mold.
No, she
wasn't going to cry. She never cried.

 
          
But
it left her wondering. Was she somehow incorporating a bit of Sam into her own
psyche during each trip into Sam's 'scape? It seemed crazy... but if so, was
she leaving a little bit of Julie behind?

 
          
An
exciting possibility. If true, it might be a way to undo some of Nathan's
meddling. But it would take a
long
time. And time wasn't something they
had a lot of.

 
          
Julie
called in the nurse to see to Sam's IVs and feeding tube while she stretched
her legs by wandering the halls.

 
          
Questions
assaulted her
—
about Nathan, about Eathan,
about Sam's memory of that terrible night.

 
          
First,
Nathan. Julie had hated him, utterly and completely, since reading his
experimental journals. But reliving the night of the fire in Sam's 'scape had
left her with mixed emotions about Nathan Gordon.

 
          
When
she stood back and considered everything, she couldn't deny that he'd been
horribly wronged by his wife and brother. No matter how brief their affair, or
how true Lucy had remained to him after it was over... imagine how Nathan must
have felt each time he looked at the twin daughters he was raising and realized
they were his brother's.

 
          
Maybe
that had unbalanced him. It didn't excuse what he did to those two little
girls, but at least it provided an explanation. And the fact remained that
despite whatever monstrousness he'd committed during his life, Nathan Gordon
died a hero.

 
          
No
question of that.

 
          
He
could have run out alone and watched his house burn, collected the insurance
money on his unfaithful wife, and lived out his years as a millionaire. But he'd
carried the girls out and tried trying to save that unfaithful wife.

 
          
Did
guilt drive him to it? Was he trying to atone for what he'd done to the twins?
Maybe he hoped that if he saved their lives, Lucy would forgive him.

 
          
Which
brought up another question: Sam's buried memory of Lucy learning of Nathan's
experiments and leaving with the girls. When did that happen? The memory ended
with Eathan, Lucy, and the twins headed out the door. Yet the next memory was
the fire.

 
          
How
long between that incident and the fire? Had Lucy and the twins returned to the
house? Had there been a reconciliation of sorts?

 
          
And
there were more inconsistencies.

 
          
Only
hours ago Eathan had sat in his bedroom and told her that he hadn't found
Nathan's experimental journals until
after
the fire. That was what he
said, but if Sam's memory was at all
accurate, Eathan
did
know
—
he
brought
the journals to Nathan's house the night of the big fight.

 
          
Obviously
he hadn't known the twins were his
—
not
yet
—
-but he'd certainly known
about the journals. Yet he'd lied to Julie about them. Why?

 
          
Unless
...

 
          
The
thought stopped Julie in midstride. She had to lean on the newel post at the
top of the stairs and wait for the cold, sick feeling to pass.

 
          
Unless
Eathan had something to do with the fire.

 
          
No.
That wasn't possible. Not Eathan. Anyone but Eathan.

 
          
But
he had lied to her about the journals. She couldn't ignore that. Eathan
wouldn't lie to her unless he had a reason.

 
          
But
must that reason have anything to do with the fire?

 
          
And
what
about
the fire?

 
          
The
most disturbing aspect of what she'd just seen was that Sam's memory of that
night had the same blank spot as her own.

 
          
When
she was older Eathan had told her that the generally accepted theory at the
time was that the horror of the fire had propelled the pair of them into a
fugue state that left them wandering aimlessly through the woods.

 
          
But
what happened between the fire and when they were found in the woods?

 
          
And
what happened in the interval
—
however long it was—•
between Lucy walking out on Nathan and the fire?

 
          
As
much as she hated thinking about it, she had to ask herself: What if Mom told
Eathan he was the father of the twins, and then, knowing what Nathan had done
to them, Eathan went a little crazy.

 
          
That
didn't answer all the questions
—
not even close. Eathan
wouldn't jeopardize his own daughters. No way would he start the fire.

 
          
But
what if Nathan and Lucy tried to work things out? What if she moved back with
the twins? Wouldn't that have made Eathan even crazier?

 
          
And
with them all dead he'd have been left with two millon dollars free and clear.

 
          
Julie
shook herself.
What am I thinking?

 
          
Not
Eathan. Anybody but Eathan.

 
          
But
she'd never really know, would she? Not unless ...

 
          
I
have to go back in.

 
          
She
glanced at her watch. Still too early in
New York
to link up with Dr. S.

 
          
Damn!
Every hour meant there was less of Sam to find in the memoryscape.

 
          
But
she didn't want to go back in alone. Things were becoming too
physical
in
there. She wanted a lifeline to the real world.

 
          
She
sighed. At least the nurse would have time to tend to Sam's various tubes; and
the physical therapists were due in for their daily routine of chest FT,
sensory stimulation, stretching, massage, and passive range-of-motion
exercises.

 
          
They
worked like hell to keep her outside in good shape, but inside she was all but
gone.

2

 
          
"How
do you know about this tunnel?" Dr. S. was saying.

 
          
His
face filled the monitor screen and his expression was a study in suspicion.

 
          
Might
as well tell him
—
but only about this
morning's solo trip.

 
          
"I
went in alone."

 
          
"Dammit,
Julie! I told you
—
"

 
          
"I
didn't have time to wait for you and I haven't got time to argue with you about
it. Sam's whole 'scape could shut down anytime now. I went in, I came out, I'm
okay. I'm going back in and you're going to be with me this time, so let's not
make a federal case out of it."

 
          
She
realized how she sounded but she was tired and anxious and didn't want Dr. S.
going on and on about the dangers in Sam's whole 'scape

 
          
Because
he didn't know the half of it.

 
          
When
he made no reply she glanced at his face. Suspicion had been replaced by hurt.
Damn.

 
          
"Sorry,"
she said. "I haven't had much sleep lately. But I can't stop now. I'm
getting to the heart of the matter and
—
"

 
          
"What
matter?"

 
          
"Everything.
The last secrets. I'm sure that the other, smaller tunnel I saw leads into the
heart of the volcano, and I have a feeling that's where all my questions will
be answered."

 
          
She
couldn't tell him that those questions weren't strictly about Sam. They
pertained to herself as well
—
because back in those days
the two of them were practically joined at the hip, and whatever happened to
little Sammi happened to little Julie as well.

 
          
This
is no longer just about Sam. It's about me too.

 
          
But
she couldn't let Dr. S. know that.

 
          
"Why
the volcano?" he said. "Couldn't what you seek lie buried somewhere
else?"

 
          
"Possibly.
But we tend to forget
—
at least I know I do
—
that the memoryscape is a symbolic landscape. We've got to
ask ourselves what a volcano represents in real life. It's the release point
for an uncontainable pressure that builds up within the earth's crust. What
does it represent in the memoryscape? Something very similar, I think. Why
couldn't it be the blowout point for a cataclysmic memory that got too close to
the surface and was simply too hot to handle? It broke free and blasted
everything around it."

 
          
"I
don't know, Julie. ... How could any memory, no matter how awful, wreak the
devastation we've seen in your sister?"

 
          
"I
told you what was done to us."

 
          
She'd
given Dr. S. some of the details, but had skipped the paternity mess. She'd
fill him in on that some other time. Later. Maybe.