Lucidity (15 page)

“Exactly.” The remote trembled in her slim fingers. She looked pale, despite the warm glow of the fire. “We’ll begin to see drastic differences in weather patterns. More Homeland Security alerts. Frequent testing of the Emergency Broadcast System. Our politicians will become notably less visible. Long-vacant underground bunkers will come to see new life. Submarines in secret ports, filled with dignitaries, seeds and the frozen embryos of selected wildlife, will launch. And a few observant souls will notice changes in the behavior of the animals around them. The beasts will become edgy. Uneasy. But no one will take it seriously.”

Jesus. The ramifications were unimaginable. This thing could alter the makeup of the entire world, be the cause of billions of deaths. Jesus. He squeezed her hand and found it ice-cold. “What does this mean for you?”

She turned off the television but continued to watch the darkened screen. “I’ll be getting a call soon, letting me know exactly what time the One Hundred will be called on to…well, dream the
big
dream. And then I go to work. I’ve never been so afraid of failure in my life.” She forced a bleak smile that ripped a hole in his heart. “I’m sorry, Parker. I know you don’t believe in this mumbo jumbo.”

“That doesn’t matter. I’ll see that you can do whatever’s necessary.”

After the amazing day they’d spent together, this was not the way things should be. He’d just gotten his hands on her. He didn’t want to let go now. They should be able to take in a film somewhere, maybe go out on the town, have dinner and drinks before he brought her back here to have his fill of her again. “Try to relax, Carlotta. Keep your phone at the ready. I’ll see if I can convince Vic to conjure up some dinner for us. And I’ll try giving Shep a call. Maybe he’s got more news.”

“It’s all very strange,” she mused. “When you’re young, you expect to have the time to grow old. I don’t think we ever believe we
will
—but there’s always the assumption that we’ll have the chance. I’ve barely given a passing thought to getting married or settling into a career or having children. Oh, nothing like Violet. Two. I think I’d like to have a boy and a girl. I—I didn’t think it was too much to hope for.”

She peeked at him from beneath full, dark lashes. “If the lucid experiment doesn’t work, do you…well, have plans?”

“Plans?”

She picked nervously at a loose thread on the cuff of his shirt. “Is it possible we could, maybe, stick together? Survive what’s coming, help other people? I mean, I was thinking of heading for the mountains somewhere. The quakes would be risky but the flooding even worse. I thought we might travel together. Mind you, it’s not like I’m
needy
or anything like that,” she added hastily. “You know how I despise that ‘helpless woman’ feeling. But—but you won’t just up and leave, will you?”

“Just try to get rid of me, babe. Just try.” The look of utter sadness on her face pained him, made him angry. This couldn’t be allowed to happen. There had to be a way to fix things, if only for her.

He began with the balcony door, easing it carefully back into its slide. The lock needed replacing, but he’d have to leave that to Vic. There were more important things to do now, and the urge for action simmered in his stoked veins.

Carefully keeping his tone light, he gave her a gentle kiss, wishing he could think of a way to be more comforting. “Whatever else happens, I’m going to see to it that
you’re
safe, Carly. Trust me.”

Shoving his feet into his boots, he didn’t bother looking for a shirt but grabbed his old phone and slipped into his insulated vest. “I’ll be right outside the front door, babe. Think good thoughts. You’re absolutely safe. If you get your call, give me a shout-out from the window, and I’m right back, okay?”

Carly didn’t speak. She just watched him go, her eyes wide and uncertain. Dammit, he wouldn’t let their world come crashing down.

Thundering down the stairs, he nearly ran into Vic, who was balancing a tray of steaming hot food. The sight of it made him miss the last step and nearly fall as the older man avoided him with an agility that surprised Parker. “Hey, Doyle. I was just gonna come looking for you. That for us?”

“You’re the only ones here, aintcha?”

“But—”

“Told you I’d make it up to you.” Vic shuffled his scuffed army boots, caked in mud. “Felt bad about scaring your lady.”

“Vic?” Incredulous, Parker leaned over the corked platter. “Is that… That looks like hash browns and steak. Grilled steak?”

“Mebbe because that’s what it is.”

“I thought you only did eggs, man.”

“Had an urge to try something different. Happened to have this on hand. It’s just beef and potatoes, Munroe. Not the end of the world. Problem? Shoot me.”

Parker laughed out loud. At the odds it could be a coincidence. At the ridiculous idea of dreams coming true. At himself, at the rigid walls of what he deemed reality crumbling right before his eyes.

Vic? Changing years of routine for no reason? If anything could convince him of Carly’s power, this just might do the trick. “Appreciate the thought, old-timer. But I’m catching a little air, so be sure to knock, okay? My lady friend’s a little nervous after your performance this morning.”

Vic snarled back at him, heading up the stairs. “I said I was sorry. Get the hell over it.”

An ill-tempered bastard after his own heart. He loved crotchety old coots—hoped he’d live to be one of them.

Parker inhaled deeply as he hurried outside, the cold air invigorating, prickling his bare skin. Even the dregs of soggy hail that slapped his face in big, cold dollops helped wake him up, return his mind to the business at hand. Keeping an eye on the front door he’d closed behind him, he dialed his handler’s number and easily made it through.

“Where the devil have you been?” Shep snapped. “I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”

“Been preoccupied.” Images of the day’s marathon lovemaking flashed through his mind, and he paced to keep himself from becoming aroused again. That warm, satiny skin and the way she whispered his name, soft as rain, when he touched her…

Curse him, he’d never made it to those sexy words Carly wanted to hear. Get him to talk about violence and he was in his element. He sucked at the romantic crap. He’d work on that—after they made sure there was time for it. “I’m here now. What?”

“Listen, I’ve got the inside story about this whole shitstorm. I hated that they kept us stupid and pregnant, need-to-know stuff only. So I got a friend to arrange a meeting with one of the elders of the Temple. He seemed happy to talk to a potential recruit.”

Parker froze, all of his reluctant doubts swamping him in a nauseating wave. Shep had found a way inside, and they’d trusted him with their secrets? “You actually spoke to those people?”

“Yeah. And I’ve gotta tell you, man. The guy was impressive. They can be pretty convincing. They are so damn sure of themselves, so eager to serve what they believe are the wishes of their Lord. Their faith comes easy for them, rules straight from the book. No details or deep thoughts to lead them to doubt.”

Parker cringed at his words. They reflected so much his own state of mind before Carly had pushed him to change. “And these folks really believed you were a candidate for their kind of crazy?”

“I guess they could see my potential. And a lady friend was kind enough to vouch for me. I didn’t find them to be as bad as I’d thought. They have a few extremists in the flock, but honestly? Another few minutes with their rabbi and I just might’ve signed on.”

Not funny. Shepherd had never quite shaken the mantle of his old-time religious upbringing. He’d often said so himself. What if he really had fallen for their propaganda?

“But it wasn’t a waste of time. I learned enough to know we’ve been lied to. The suits can bust my ass if they want to, but I think you
should
know. There’s an asteroid—”

“I know all about it. Carly told me.”

“Did she, now? Then you also know there was no lab experiment.” He sounded oddly disillusioned about it. “Apparently, the extreme members of the Temple spread the Siberia story. It isn’t mutant coochie after all.”

“No.” How could he possibly feel like laughing at a time like this? “It isn’t.”

Remarkable how much better the reception was out here. He could actually hear the smile in Shep’s voice. “Guess she finally got you to
listen
to her, huh?”

“Yeah, I listened.” His skin was heating up at the thought. “I was gonna tell you about it as soon as we caught up. Figured you had a right to know what might be coming.”

“Correction. What
is
coming. Word is that the scientists’ defense mechanisms haven’t worked. All of the big brass will be covertly migrating to shelters within a few days. You won’t be able to reach them, and they’ll probably cut you loose.”

Leaving those who didn’t know and couldn’t help themselves to suffer with what was coming. Nobody had ever told him the cowardly would inherit the earth. “Screw ’em. Gives me the leeway to do as I please. Is that all?”

“What? The big rock going boom ain’t enough for you?”

Parker was quickly running out of patience. “Shep? Can we get to it?”

“I was just called north from DC. The brass had their tighty whities in a bunch. And man, you know how I hate these rush jobs? I had to settle for a seat in coach. Pissed me off. All pinned up in a fucking flying cattle car. Honestly, we need to do something about the budgets these asshole politicians are keeping us to. They spend more money on a pissy bottle of wine than—”

“
Shep!
”

“Right. Sorry.” Parker heard his deep breath. “My boss texted me the news. A girl’s been killed. Throat slashed ear to ear. She was left to bleed out.”

Parker was doing his best to be objective. Professional. But there was something very wrong about this call. “A cruel but simple murder. You’re not a cop. Why call you?”

There was a pained silence on the other end, and the voice that returned was different. Grim. “Because she belonged to me. She was one of our lambs, Munroe. A member of the One Hundred.”

“What?” A strange buzzing sound, like the noise of some insidious insect, droned in the back of his brain, and he involuntarily shuddered. The frigid air, the horror of it all, was finally beginning to work its way into his bones. “The Temple’s always been about intimidation. Threatening the One Hundred. Rousing the masses. You think they’ve finally resorted to murder?”

“I’ll let you know. I’m with the body now. And I’ll need to touch bases with a few people. Tell the One Hundred they’re down to Ninety-Nine. They’ll have to bring in a replacement. Damned inconvenient, locationwise,” he muttered. “I hope they don’t have to find one here. Ohio isn’t exactly the hub of the universe.”

“I hope the dinner’s to your liking, Ms.…Phelps, is it?”

Carly tugged nervously on the tails of Parker’s shirt. She’d had the presence of mind to slip into her jeans before letting Uncle Vic in with his tray, and the shirt practically reached her knees anyway. But she was still uncomfortable. After all, she was the dull girl next door, the one who worked at a grocery store and only dreamed of hot romance. It wasn’t every day she indulged in a torrid affair.

But the sight of the food was enough to make her grin. She couldn’t wait to see Parker’s reaction to the eggless meal. “I’m sure it’s fine. Looks great, thank you.”

“My pleasure. It gives me a chance to apologize in person for all the ruckus this morning. Don’t know what I was thinking. I guess gunplay stays in the blood, y’know?”

No, she didn’t. Parker hadn’t told her much about Uncle Vic. But then, she’d met several shady characters from his past in the weeks they’d been on the run. Vic seemed to be one of the more stable ones.

The scent of peppered steak and buttery potatoes was a delectable perfume in the room. Considering the circumstances, she probably shouldn’t be hungry, but she’d worked up quite an appetite with her lover. She was more than ready to eat. “I do know that changing a lifestyle is hard. Especially one you enjoyed.”

Uncle Vic seemed withered within the confines of the walls, as if he’d somehow folded all of his life and vitality into some smaller creature’s shell. The sallow lighting bleached away what color lay hidden in his cheeks, his threadbare flannel shirt hung too loosely upon his bones, and his cap all but rode on the ridge of brow above his eyes. “Oh, but I can’t say I enjoyed it, Ms. Phelps. I was a violent, vindictive alcoholic, full of hate. Even Munroe wouldn’t have kept company with me back then.” He gave her a shy grin, shoved his hands awkwardly into his pockets, and sidled away from the table. “Only one thing could possibly reform an old reprobate like me.”

Carly relaxed. This one even had a human side. He might’ve been handsome in his youth. There was, even now, a tiny trace of boyish charm about him when he made an effort. “Let me guess. The love of a good woman?”

In a blur of unbelievable speed, he was beside her, his right hand freed and holding a switchblade at her throat. Carly stiffened in place as the sharp metal pressed cold against her skin.

“A good woman? Nah. Only one real, true thing could make such a difference.” He smiled, edging closer as he whispered in her ear. “God’s will.”

Chapter Fourteen

Twilight quickly conquered the country landscape as the first faint stars bled through the ashen sky. Trapped between daylight and dark, dreams and nightmares—the setting seemed almost too perfect.