Night Beyond The Night (21 page)

“What’s this?” she asked, lifting an oblong metal object that looked like it would open and close. “A stapler?”

“Yep,” Elliott replied, looking up momentarily from his own explorations. “Hey. I found something.” He lifted a backpack that didn’t appear to be old or torn and began to rifle through it. A moment later, she heard a soft jingle and he pulled his hand out, holding a set of keys. “I’m betting these are to the humvee,” he said, a smile breaking over his face. “We might be driving back to Envy.”

Jade’s heart leaped. She sure would like him to smile at her like that. “I haven’t been in a truck for a long time,” she said, remembering how unpleasant her last trip had been. That was when Raul Marck had captured her after her second escape attempt, and brought her back to Preston. For a big reward, of course.

Elliott pulled more items out of the pack, including a little book. Standing there, hips cocked to one side as he used an elbow to hold the backpack against him, he flipped through the book. The sun filtered in behind him, highlighting the dust stirred up by their investigations and tingeing the edges of his rich dark hair. Last night, she’d smoothed her hands over the wide, square shoulders and felt the swell of muscle beneath his warm skin, and watching that tall, lean figure in rugged jeans and a close-fitting red shirt made her feel all lightheaded and tingly.

Jade moistened her lips and swallowed.
Whew
. There was definitely something about Elliott Drake. Maybe she would be willing to answer to him.

No. That was ridiculous.

“What’s in the book?” she asked, unable to keep from moving closer to him. His hands, large and powerful, were nevertheless elegantly shaped, with long, tanned fingers. She noticed two blackened fingernails and a few cuts on the side of his thumb.

“Lists of people, it looks like. Not an address book—it’s got ages and gender listed. Hmm. Height and weight? A list of patients?” He seemed to be talking to himself, thinking aloud. “Some drawings that look like maps. And . . . hey, I’ve seen this before,” he said, his voice taut as he stabbed one of his fingers at the book. “But I can’t remember.”

“Let me see,” she said, moving closer, her heart suddenly clogging her throat. She was suddenly so aware of him, so eager to get close to him. And yet, her palms sprang damp and her pulse pounded.

She looked around his arm at the book, and saw the symbol there. The labyrinth with a swastika superimposed on it and a border that looked like curling waves. She knew it well. “Oh, yes. That’s the symbol the Strangers use to identify themselves.”

Elliott murmured, “I’ve seen it somewhere before.” He pressed his lips together as Jade stepped back, for self-preservation as much as to be able to look at him. “Quent will know. He’s probably the one who showed it to me.” He slammed the book shut and shoved it back into the pack. “We’d better get going, see if I can get the truck started.”

“On to Envy.”

The second morning he woke in Envy, Quent tried to find his way back to Lou’s hidden computer center, and ended up in some dank, dirty, overgrown area inside the hotel. Every bloody time he touched a wall, he heard screams and saw blood and visionless eyes and other nightmarish images of crumbling walls, yawning crevices, fire, and raging destruction.

Sagging, sweat pouring down his face and terror in his brain, he closed his eyes, fighting the pull of memories that didn’t belong to him. Memories he didn’t want and didn’t need . . . thoughts he could no longer control.

The floor rose up beneath him, and he was swept away into madness and fear and pain. . . .

“Quent!”

The sound of his name tugged at him, and then pressure on his shoulders and arm drew him from the darkness that had overtaken him. Slowly, slowly, his mind crawled back to reality, and at last he opened his eyes.

Elliott Drake looked down at him.

“Quent, what the hell are you doing here?” His face was taut with concern. “What happened?” Before he could reply, Dred’s hands were moving over him, scanning to be certain he wasn’t injured.

But it wasn’t his body that was fucked up.

“I got lost,” he said, sitting up slowly. It had never been this bad before . . . the memories had never been that strong, that overwhelming. He realized with a deep, leveling shock that he no longer recognized his environment. Hadn’t his last real memory been of an overgrown part of the hotel, inside the building?

Now a blue sky blazed above him and moss-covered, mildew-blackened buildings rose in close quarters around him. He was lying on the ground, outside, and Dred and the woman . . . Jade . . . were crouched next to him.

What were they doing here? Hadn’t they left Envy on some mission?

Quent reached out and connected with Dred’s hand. No, it was really him, real flesh and blood. “What are you doing here?” he managed to ask.

“We just got back. We were coming into town and found you here.” Dred looked as though he were ready to call the guys in the white coats, and maybe he damn well should. “How long have you been here?”

Quent shook his head. “I don’t know. I was looking for Lou’s room and got lost. The next thing I know, I touched something. The memories swarmed over me, the images and violence . . . I don’t remember anything after that.” He was sitting up fully now, and only a lingering cloudiness remained. “Is it still Wednesday? I left my room around nine thirty or so.”

Elliott’s face relaxed a little. “Yes. It’s not quite noon on Wednesday. So you haven’t been gone for too long.”

Thank God
.

“But you’re back from . . . where did you go?”

“A place called Greenside,” Jade said, speaking for the first time. “We have some things for Lou to look at, and Elliott thought you should take a look as well.” She sat back on her haunches and glanced at Dred. “It’s a good thing we came back in through the Tunnel, or we wouldn’t have found you here, in this area of town.” She glanced up and gestured to the building closest to him. “You must have come out here, which is on the unused side of the place. This is where we go in and come out when we don’t want to be seen.”

Dred was nodding. “Can you stand?”

“Yeah, as long as I don’t fucking touch anything I ought to be just fine,” he said flatly.

“Let’s go in and find Lou,” Jade said. “Maybe get you something to eat.”

Quent nodded, standing on his own, and wondering how the hell he was going to get through the rest of his life here in this place if he couldn’t touch anything unfamiliar without going into a tailspin.

He could use something to eat . . . or, better yet, something bloody strong to drink.

Elliott followed Jade back through the hotel, keeping a sharp eye on Quent. Now that he was conscious again, and took care not to do so much as brush against the wall, his friend seemed to be fully recovered. Elliott had found nothing unusual when he scanned the guy.

Apparently, like himself, Quent had contracted some sort of paranormal ability that had seemed fantastic at the outset, but was really a double-edged sword.

Elliott found it disconcerting, to say the least, that Simon, Fence, and Wyatt hadn’t come away with any paranormal abilities like he and Quent had. Even the unfortunate Lenny had acquired a new skill—the ability to sense water, like a human divining rod. That had been ability that came in handy when they first emerged from the caves.

But Lenny’s death had put to bed any possibility that their special skills and fifty-year “sleeps” had somehow made the six of them immortal, or immune to injury or death. Their hair and nails might not be growing, like that of mythological vampiric creatures, but the sunlight didn’t bother them. Nor would they live forever.

Elliott realized Jade had led them back to the part of the hotel that teemed with activity like any other town. They walked through a walled-in area designed like the streets of a city, but which had originally been the interior lobby of the hotel. The ceiling or roof was gone, and storefronts and restaurants lined the “streets” that were now real streets with real trees and paved walkways, giving the impression of a quaint downtown area.

“Let’s get something to eat,” Jade said, gesturing to the same little restaurant they’d gone into the first night they were in Envy. “Then I can send word to Lou that we’re back without making a big deal about it,” she added softly to Elliott.

But Lou, Fence, Wyatt, and Simon were already in the restaurant, sitting in a large corner booth in the back.

“Where’ve you been?” Wyatt asked Quent.

“You’re back,” Lou said to Jade and Elliott at the same time.

As they settled in the booth with the others, Elliott still holding the pack they’d taken from the Stranger, Jade explained briefly how they’d come upon Quent.

“Everyone eats here,” Lou was explaining to Fence, who must have broached the question when Elliott wasn’t paying attention. “Here or at one of the other restaurants—there are five all together.” He looked around the table. “I know, it’s like
Cheers
, but when we first started to rebuild, it just evolved that way. Most people who live in Envy live in what were hotel rooms or suites, and have made them their homes. But no one really has the means to cook.”

“So it’s like a commune,” Fence said. Elliott noticed he looked rather haggard, and whoa! Was that stubble on his face? Actual stubble? And on his bald head?

Elliott dragged a hand over his own chin to check his status. Nope. Still smooth as a baby’s butt. He wasn’t complaining, because he’d have a full-blown Robinson Crusoe beard by now if his hair had been growing. It was just damned weird.

Lou replied, “A community, rather than a commune. The meals aren’t free; people do have to pay for them. But it’s easier to prepare the food with the limited electricity and supplies we have, as well as the fact that there’s no reason to have a stove or fridge in every home.” Then he grinned. “It suits me fine, because I’ve never liked to cook.”

“And you never miss a meal,” Jade said fondly. Elliott heard her add in an undertone, “We’ve got stuff. Let’s make this fast and get out of here.”

Lou nodded and gestured for the waitress. Elliott watched in amazement as, before his eyes, Lou turned from a sharp-eyed computer whiz into a musty-gazed, dottering old man who could barely express his request . . . which was for the woman to wrap up a couple sandwiches for the group. “You remind me of my granddaughter, you do,” he said, his voice sounding aged. “She lives over there, you know. Her name is Carly. Do you know her? She comes in here all the time, you know. And I want to order four sandwiches—”

The waitress was kind, but brisk. “Of course, Mr. Wax. I’m going to get those for you right now.” And she fled.

Lou turned back to Elliott, laughter in his suddenly bright eyes. “Works every time. They hate to hear me talk about my granddaughter.”

“That’s because you don’t have a granddaughter,” Jade reminded him.

“I know that, and they know that . . . but they don’t realize I know that.”

“So how
do
we pay for our meals while we’re here?” Elliott asked. “And what do they use for currency?”

“You needn’t worry about that for a while. For now, Mayor Rogan has given you carte blanche in thanks for saving the kids. If you decide to stay in Envy, arrangements will be made for what we call community service, which will assist with the costs. The rest you’ll be able to pay for with income that you generate through whatever you choose to do.” Lou said. “As for currency . . . what do you think? Casino chips.” He grinned.

“Lou, you go on. I’ll be down in a few.” Jade’s gaze swept everyone, but her words were for Elliott. “I’ve want to check on Geoff and say hi to Flo . . . she worries when I’m gone. I’ll be down in a few minutes. Why don’t you take this.” She handed him the Stranger’s pack.

Elliott wanted to say, Hurry back. But he thought that would make him sound pathetic.

What the hell. He was pathetic. He watched her as she hurried away, wondering when he’d have the chance to get her alone again.

Why had he been so foolish as to let the opportunity slip by last night?

He directed his gaze away. He knew why. Because he needed to know there was no one else. He wasn’t the kind of guy to plan and execute a siege for a woman, pitting himself against a group of rivals. He’d learned that lesson back in high school when he was lobbying to take Mary Ellen Fray to the prom. He’d won that bid, paid for the limo and flowers and an expensive dinner—all so she could show off for the guy she really liked—and for whom she’d dumped Elliott two days later.

So he’d made it a policy not to waste his time unless he knew the woman was interested enough to concentrate on him. Period.

“I want to know why there are so many pregos around here,” Fence muttered in Elliott’s ear as they stood to leave.

“I’d suppose that if the human race was nearly destroyed, it would make sense to try and repopulate it as quickly and efficiently as possible,” Quent commented. “Looks as if it’s working.”

“Cool. Free love and all,” Fence replied, his smile flashing wickedly. “I can help with that.”

Lou must have heard them, for he stopped his fake shuffling walk, and turned to address Quent. “Actually, that was quite a bone of contention for a while, early on. There were people who wanted, literally, to set up breeding arrangements and to actually monitor them. But most of us agreed that it would be best to let nature take its course, with an emphasis on trying to find a mate and procreate.”

He took a few slow steps, then turned with a smile and said, “There are, after all, no condoms or any other birth control anymore. There’s no reason for it, and in fact, it would almost be considered bad taste to try and prevent a pregnancy. Our fertile women are well cared for and encouraged to have as many children as they like.”

Logical and interesting. And a relief that procreation wasn’t somehow managed or controlled by the governing body, for that could easily have happened in a society desperate to regenerate itself.

“Don’t you worry about inbreeding?” asked Elliott.

“We do. We keep very careful records,” Lou explained. “But we’re only on our second generation since the Change, and so far there hasn’t been a problem. And of course, now the five of you have appeared. New, fresh blood.” He smiled and stroked his goatee. “Be prepared to be accosted.”