Bloodshot (30 page)

The television was still on in the other room. I snapped at Adrian, “Go turn that off. Now!” And the command was passed down to someone else who doesn’t ordinarily obey random commands, but Adrian did it, and he did it swiftly.

I turned my back to the living room and jammed my eyes shut, as if that could make it even quieter in my condo. I strained to hear any scrap of static and I prayed that Domino wasn’t pulling some
crazy stunt. Because if he was, I’d have to beat him to death the next time I saw him. And that would be sad for his sister.

Pepper. I said her name aloud and then I breathed into the phone, “Where’s your sister, Domino?”

His response made me go cold all the way down to my toes. “I don’t know.”

“What’s going on?” I asked again, confused and alarmed, and conflicted, too. Obviously I was worried about my stuff. I have lots of stuff—easily millions of dollars’ worth of stuff in that warehouse. And as I’ve implied before, I didn’t really care if Domino vanished off the face of the earth at any given moment. But goddammit, that little girl didn’t have anybody else looking after her and, okay, she wasn’t exactly a ghoul or a pet person or anything like that, except that apparently she was all of those things almost, and very suddenly I felt like I was going to throw up.

It was frankly unexpected.

“
Listen,
” the boy urged in his softest voice yet. He may as well have been shaping the word with his lips but holding his breath. If I hadn’t been what I am, I would’ve never heard it.

But I heard him shift the phone in his hand, the scrabbling of his fingers almost slipping, almost dropping it, but holding fast and turning it face-out, I imagined—to better catch the sound of whatever he wanted me to hear.

I held out my hand toward Adrian, who’d come back to join me in the “dining area” (if any room in any home of mine can be dubbed such). He wasn’t wearing the face mask anymore, though tiny threads of it showed around his hairline where he’d washed it off too quickly. I don’t know what I was trying to do with the gesture—hold him at bay, keep him from talking, shoo him out of the condo. Any of those things. All of them. I was only trying to concentrate, and concentrate hard. I directed every ounce of my supernatural hearing to the scene back in Seattle, and I even tried to
picture it: my warehouse, my things, my floors full of unsecured merchandise and two children who shouldn’t be there, really, but where else could they go? I visualized Domino, doing one brave thing, perhaps—just this once. Because when it came to his sister, I didn’t think he’d lie to me, and that vestigial psychic sense was bouncing up and down behind my tightly shut eyes, telling me that he was telling the truth, and trying to tell me more without making a sound.

At first, I didn’t detect much. The scraping of dry hands on the phone’s plastic shell. A shuffle and the rustle of clothing. An occasional breath that sounded like a ragged gasp, and sounded like Domino.

Then the rest began to come into focus. At least, it did whatever sound does when it phases from white noise to something more specific.

It must’ve looked to Adrian like I was in pain, hunkered over almost double with my eyes closed and my hand still held out, still keeping him away. I backed up slowly until I hit a wall, and then I sat down against it and listened, and listened, and listened.

And now I could catch static—not miscellaneous noise, but actual electronic static, in tiny fuzzes and blips. Footsteps. Carefully uttered words, spoken low and without any of the rambling stutters of ordinary conversation. I couldn’t make them out, no matter how hard I tried.

“Domino,” I whispered, trying to match his closeness to silence, yet trying to make sure he heard me, too.

“Raylene,” he said back. “They’re here.”

“Who?” I asked, knowing he couldn’t say. Even if it weren’t blindingly obvious that the boy was hiding for his life, the odds were great that he wouldn’t have any idea who was invading our turf. My turf.

Bless him, he tried anyway. I caught a scrambling of clothes
and sneakers that sounded like a herd of elephants in my ear, but surely made nothing more than tiny scuffs and squeaks in the vast labyrinth of the old factory. Even so, I cringed with every rustle of cloth against the microphone. I tensed myself into an even tighter ball as the boy on the other end of the line adjusted himself, and I tried to remember if there was anything … anything at all … incriminating inside that building.

It was a ridiculous thing to wonder.

Everything
inside it was incriminating. But try as I might, I couldn’t think of any paperwork, or electronics, or anything like that. They’d already found my Seattle condo; I was virtually certain of this. Where else could the storehouse send them, except to Interpol? And baby, I’d rather face off with international crime fighters than mad-scientist military yahoos any damn day of the week.

Everything was unraveling. I could feel it, my whole world being teased open, like a thread of spaghetti pulled twisting onto a fork.

But I listened, and listened, and listened.

Somewhere in the distance of wherever Domino had secreted himself away, I heard a digital pop—the kind you hear when people are using walkie-talkies, or those phones that come with that same function. It was chased by a man’s voice, confirming something.

“Affirmative.”

The phone shifted again in the boy’s grasp; I suppose he was bringing it back up to his face. “I can’t find Pepper,” he said. “I think maybe they got her.” He was whispering as only a kid who’s truly half afraid to death can whisper, but apparently he felt secure enough to do so. I thought maybe there was a metallic echo to the soft puffs of words, and I assumed he’d climbed up into one of Pep’s favorite old hiding spots—inside the square aluminum
tunnels of the ventilation system. They weren’t original to the building, of course, but they’d been added by the man who’d owned it before me.

“Why do you think that?” When I spoke back to him, I was quiet, too. Didn’t want to give him away. “Did you see them take her?”

“No. I got here, and she was gone, and
they
were here. But they were talking about her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he asserted, but I thought he was only assuming the worst. Like I’d blame him for it. Like I wouldn’t do exactly the same thing. “They found a dead guy in the basement.”

“Bullshit,” I said, too loud.

He replied, “No bullshit,” and if there’d been any less peril to go around, I fully expect that he would’ve sounded smug about it. Awesome. So he knew, or he suspected. But what did that mean, anyway? He’d always known, and always suspected.

When in doubt, change the subject. “Domino, tell me. Who are they?” The answer was more pressing than what they were going to do with Trevor, anyway.

“I don’t know.”

“What do they look like?”

His hair or his neck, or maybe a scarf went dragging across the microphone. He was looking out, checking to see again if they were close, or if he could see anybody. He said, “They’re all wearing black. They look like army guys. But some of them are in suits.”

“Great.”

“I don’t think it’s great. I think it fucking sucks!” His voice got a little too loud, just a squeak.

“I was being sarcastic. Stay cool, kid. Don’t get loud or get mad. That’s the most important thing, right now.”

“No. Finding Pepper is.”

Devoted little bastard. You had to give him that. “The two goals are one and the same. You can’t find her if you get yourself caught.”

“Maybe I can. At least if they catch me, they’ve caught us both and I’ll know where she is. I’ll know she’s okay.”

He was right. He’d also just revealed that he wasn’t positive they had her; otherwise, he’d have already joined the fray. I was pretty secure on this point, so I ran with it. “Forget it. Keep your head low and keep watching. Your little sister, she’s a damn good hider.”

“But they were
talking about her.
”

“What were they saying?” I asked.

“They said they thought she might still be here. They said they know someone’s inside. They’ve been watching.”

“They could’ve meant anybody.” I pointed out, “They could’ve meant
me
. I bet you a dollar she’s stashed someplace where they haven’t looked yet.”

“Make it fifty,” he said. Ah, greed and a sense of humor. Or grasping at straws.

“Very funny.”

“Raylene?”

“Yeah?”

He said, “They’re going to find us.”

“Why would you say that?”

“They’re looking everywhere. Floor by floor, moving things around. Taking pictures.”

If I could’ve cringed myself into a tighter ball and still remained upright, I would’ve done so. Pictures. Perfect. It was all crashing down, wasn’t it? All of it. Fifty years of accumulated wealth and work, right out the window. Was it my life savings? No, not by a long shot. But it was still an awful lot to lose. And Pepper
was there, someplace. I knew better than anyone how well that kid could hide. I had to trust her now; I had no choice. It was either assume the best or have a nervous breakdown right there on the phone … which would only send Domino into a downward spiral.

I could sense it. The kid hated me, but he was clinging to me—or just the sound of me, someplace far away.

As if he’d heard my thoughts he asked, “Raylene, where are you? Can’t you come help?”

“I’m a long way away,” I told him. Old habit wouldn’t let me say more, and it wouldn’t help him anyway.

“How far?”

“Thousands of miles. I wish I were joking.”

“Can you send anybody?” Ooh, I knew that pitch—that tone that lifts up the words at the corners and makes them into a nightmare scream in a bottle. He was frantic, and balancing on the edge of doing something very stupid.

And I had no idea what to do. “No,” I gulped. “There’s nobody.”

This wasn’t strictly true. There was Ian, and there was Cal—somewhere within ten miles or so. But a blind vampire and a hipster ghoul would be no good at all; truth be told, they’d only make the situation worse. Also, they’d get themselves caught, or so I was willing to bet.

So it might not’ve been strictly true, but it was functionally true.

There was no cavalry coming.

“Listen to me,” I said, keeping my voice down but trying to keep it firm. I opened one eye and saw Adrian, silent in the doorway and not moving, but watching me. I didn’t care. I couldn’t care, there wasn’t time. I just thanked God he knew when to stay silent. “Listen to me, and I’ll tell you what to do.”

“Okay.” I hated the relief I heard in that word. The relief wasn’t warranted. I didn’t even know what I was going to say next; I only knew that he needed to
believe
I had something to say next.

“First, tell me where you are.”

“I’m on …” More swishings of cheek and fabric into the phone. “I’m on the third floor, up in the ceiling. They’re not up here now, but they were a few minutes ago, and I think they’ll be back. They’ve been sweeping the place over and over again. Like they’re looking for something.”

They could’ve been looking for anything, but much like Domino assumed they’d already taken his sister, I assumed they were there hunting for me. It was small comfort, knowing they wouldn’t find me. No matter what else they found, or
who
else they found, or what crates they opened, or what locked doors they kicked down … they wouldn’t find
me
.

Small comfort indeed. And as sharp and cold as an icicle. Never mind meaningless to the boy on the phone.

“They’re coming back!” he wheezed. He fumbled with the phone again.

“Domino!” I said, almost speaking loud enough to bring my voice out of the whisper that neither of us had yet dropped.

“What?” The word was thin, compressed, and shoved out from between his teeth.

“Stay with me. Which end of the third floor are you at?”

“They’re popping open the vents! They’re going to find me in here!” Not quite shrill, but you could see it from there.

“Your vent?”

“Not yet!”

“
Okay
. Okay. Which part of the ceiling are you in?”

He panted for a moment, then said, “I’m near the main staircase.”

“And they didn’t start there?”

“No. They came up the back way. I don’t know why. Raylene, they’re moving stuff around. They’ve got crowbars. They’re taking this place apart. They’re going to find me!”

“
They’re not going to find you
. You’re going to nut up and wiggle out of this, you hear me?”

“Where would I go?” he asked, and it almost hurt me, even though I didn’t like him. The pain and the terror were almost too much to hear. “I can’t leave Pepper!”

“These guys who came in, they must have cars, vans, something like that?”

“I … I don’t know.”

“You need to look. You need to get outside and make sure they don’t have your sister stashed inside one of those cars yet, or one of those vans. If she’s there, then we can talk about rescuing her.”

“What if she’s not?”

“If she’s not,” I relied upon past experience when I said, “I say let her stay wherever she’s at. I heard you say they’re taking the place apart, but even if they go brick by brick, they’re never going to find your sister. She’s tough and smart, and she’s an Olympic-caliber hider—as she’s proven to us both, on more than one occasion. So if she’s not outside, and if they haven’t caught her, then you and me, we’re going to trust her. We’re going to assume that she’s holed up deep and she ain’t coming out, and they aren’t going to find her. Can you do that?”

“I don’t know,” he said for what must’ve been the thousandth time.

“Yes you do. Yes you can. But first, you have to get out of there and check. Come on, Domino. You’re a sneaky motherfucker, I know it for a fact.” And I did. He wasn’t quite as good at sneaking as Pepper was at hiding, but I’d definitely give him a bronze in the sport.

“I’m a sneaky motherfucker,” he repeated.

“That’s right, and you keep saying it.”

“I’m a sneaky motherfucker.”

“There you go. Now—” And I did my damndest to recall and imagine the major airway workings of the factory. And yes, of course I was familiar with them. You do remember what I do for a living, right? It’s basically my job to know all the ways in and out of a place, and this extends to my own places, too. “—now are you facing out, over the main shop floor?”