Falling (6 page)

We graze along the highway. Sun drizzles through the
windows, and I drop into sleep. My consciousness is confused, wandering through
melting dreams and briefly surfacing when I hear voices up front.

I am walking through a forest, and the
trees are falling down after me. One by one, their heavy trunks smack the
ground in thunderous explosions that send vibrations through the soles of my
feet.

“…totally exhausted,” Gabe’s voice in the background. “Did
you see the shirt I got her? Pretty sweet, huh?”

“This is a bad idea,” Tarren says.

“Yeah, I kind of figured you were against the whole thing
back when you were trying to shoot her.”

“Gabe, this is serious. There were cops all over the campus.
People heard her scream. They’re already running pictures of her. Think it’s an
abduction.”

“Well, it kind of is.”

“Someone saw you standing over the boy’s body with a gun. If
we get caught…”

“Tarren, she needs us. We’ve got to teach her how to control
the hunger, and Grand will want her back. We have to protect her.”

“That’s the other thing…”

I am looking for Ryan. Karen is with me,
but she isn’t helping. She tells me that she has Lyme disease, though I know
she’s overreacting again. I keep telling her that Ryan is in trouble. I don’t
know what kind of trouble, but I have to rescue him. Karen doesn’t care. She’s
got an acupuncturist appointment. She keeps wandering off, and I have to chase
her, but I can’t touch her or she’ll die. I run up to her and beg her to come
with me. Time is running out.

“…looks like Mom a little, don’t you think?” Gabe’s voice.

“I don’t know.”

“Come on. She does. Same nose, and she has this way of
looking at you. It’s her eyes. I don’t know. They get all sad and angry at the
same time. I swear Mom had the exact same look. And then, when we were on the
roof, she did this sigh.”

“A lot of people sigh.”

“No, no, but it was like this super sigh, like ‘the whole
world is crumbling, but I have to be all strong about it’ sigh. Just like you.
She’s totally got Tarren sighs.”

“Come on.”

“And get this, I hacked her records, and
she’s a literature major. Wild, huh?”

Ryan is lost at sea. He fell out of a
boat. Karen has wandered off, but she gave me a bottle of her perfume. She told
me to spray it in the air when I get to the ocean and she will come back.

I am on the beach. I’ve lost the
perfume. I am looking out across the waves, knowing Ryan is drowning in the
depths somewhere. It all suddenly seems so vast. I realize that I’ll never find
him. I decide to build a sandcastle in Ryan’s memory. It will be a beautiful
sandcastle that people will come from all over the world to see. They will know
how much I loved Ryan and how much I miss him. I wander the beach looking for a
bucket.

“…to be careful about how much she feeds,” Tarren says. “If
she takes in too much energy, she’ll lose control and be too strong to stop. We
have to watch her. All the time.”

“Yeah, and we need to find something ugly for her to kill.
No more puppies.”

Tarren sighs. “How’s this going to work? She’ll just live
with us forever? We’ll become fast friends and go angel hunting together? Turn
our backs every time she has to raid the local zoo to get a fix?”

“Nah, she’s going to live with us for a while,” Gabe says.
“You’re going to find a cure. Maya will be turned back to normal, but she’ll
like us so much… well, she’ll like me so much, she’ll want to stay and help.
We’ll all go angel hunting together and sing harmonious songs in the car or
maybe play the license plate game.

“We’ll kill or cure all the angels, and our life’s mission
will be complete. You’ll stand over Mom and Dad’s graves and say in an
oh-so-noble voice, ‘It’s finished. You can rest well now.’ While I’ll sweep
Francesca off her feet. You’ll be my best man at the wedding. Maya will be a
bridesmaid. Francesca and I will live next door with our passel of the world’s
most beautiful children. Maya will write a bestselling book all about our
adventures, and maybe, just maybe you’ll get yourself laid. That’s how it’s
going to work.”

“Jesus.”

I pick through the Target shopping bag Tarren has dropped in
front of me. There is something black and sticky tangled in the shag carpet
fibers near my knee. I look around this new motel room — at the peeling
wallpaper, the framed prints of hunting scenes and the rack of antlers hung
between the two beds. So this is Missouri.

I am forcing myself only to think of the present, to observe
without judgment. All emotions must be controlled and locked away so that I can
get through this minute. And the next and the next after that. I don’t know how
I can possibly keep this up, but that’s why I’ve got to stay in the present.
One breath at a time. First, change clothes. Second, figure out which of the
millions of questions to start with. Third, check the locks on the windows when
Tarren isn’t looking.

“I didn’t know small or medium, so I got medium,” Tarren
mutters behind me. “There’s dye and scissors in the other bag.”

I pull out a pair of jeans and a flower-patterned tank top.
Both are a size too large. I lay them aside, careful to avoid the black carpet
stain. I pull out a pack of white cotton full coverage underwear. The kind that
settles just under the belly button.

“This is grandma underwear,” I whine, tossing the pack away
from me.

Tarren’s face grows cloudy. “I didn’t have to get you
anything at all.”

“Oh! You’re right. I’ve been so rude.” I hold up my gloved
hands.  Dusk has settled, and without the sun’s sustenance, the song is growing
loud, tightening around my bones. “It was so genteel of you to let me out of my
cuffs for dinner. Your incredible hospitality knows no bounds.” I gather up my
clothes and escape to the bathroom.

I sit on the toilet for a half hour, picking at my black,
fingerless gloves—Maya the motorcycle bitch—and wonder if I am truly capable of
a daring escape. I am. Tarren said people are looking for me. I could make a
mad dash for the front office or scream like a crazy woman. My voice could
carry through these thin walls. But the boys have guns, and I know Tarren will
use his if he has to.

That means I have to get away from them first. Our motel is
off the main road, but I could find my way back into town, flag down a motorist
and make my way to the local police station. This scenario assumes that I don’t
accidentally kill the helpful motorist on the way, or the police don’t happen
to notice the new slits in my hands.

Maybe I won’t go to the police. Maybe I’ll go straight home
to Karen and Henry. Karen is probably in full panic attack mode right about
now, inhaler cemented to her mouth. Henry is grimacing and trying to figure out
who he can hand her off to now that I’m not there. I imagine Karen’s
tear-streaked face on the local news begging for my captors to bring me home.
She’ll probably even be wearing a t-shirt with my face on it. Karen in a
t-shirt? No, she’ll stick with a rhinestone encrusted “Find Maya” button. Henry
might even take a long lunch from the office to stand by her side looking stern.

A soft knock on the door. Strong, steady energy behind it.

“Maya?” Gabe asks.

I don’t answer.

“Whatever Tarren said, he didn’t mean it. That whole total
prick thing is just his defense mechanism. He has lots of deep-seeded issues.”

“Oh come on,” Tarren mutters farther back.

“Underneath he’s really a lovable teddy bear with an
affection for guns. He’s also quite fond of hugs and romantic comedies; you
probably don’t know that about him,” Gabe says. “Oh, and I got us some grub.”

I open the door.

* * *

Tarren receives a salad and vitamin water. Gabe presents
himself with a cheeseburger and a can of Red Bull.

“Man food,” he says. The smell of dead meat fills the room,
and I shudder.

“And for you…” Gabe reaches into the bag, “Goldfish! Not
exactly like you’re used to, but these are prettier than the snack.” He hands
me a bowl and two large plastic bags filled with darting, colorful shapes. He
glances at his brother, and Tarren nods in approval.

We sit on the floor in a semi-circle. I make sure I am out
of arm’s reach of both boys. Tarren picks carefully through his salad, while
Gabe bites into his burger and moans with pleasure. I’ve already downed the two
bottles of water Gabe set in front of me. My thirst seems to have no limit.
Now, I let my hand rest in the bowl of water until the fish forget the
intrusion. In a swift motion, I snatch up a wriggling body, squeeze out its
energy and place the small corpse on a napkin behind me. The brothers pretend
not to notice, but they pause each time I pull my hand out of the water.

The energy of the fish hit me in small bursts, hardly
substantial enough to feel even a moment’s relief. It is more maddening then
filling. Drops of rain on my parched tongue while two forbidden lakes sit
before me.

“Gabe,” I say, and he lifts his head, chipmunk cheeks filled
with cheeseburger bits. “You said your father and Dr. Cook destroyed the
formula, but the man who took me. He used…”

“Bone marrow transplant,” Tarren sets down his fork. “After
his father was killed, Grand became obsessed with recreating the formula or
finding another way to infect others.”

“He raped a lot of women,” Gabe puts down the last bite of
his burger. “Transferred blood. Blasted poor bastards with radiation. Fed off
them till they were almost dead, then brought them back, that kind of thing.
Eventually he discovered that bone marrow injected into the spine worked.”

“To a lesser degree than the original formula,” Tarren says.

“Close enough.” Gabe crushes the paper wrapper from his
burger and throws it in the bag. “We found one of his labs awhile back. It was
a slaughterhouse. He’s still doing it too. Experimenting to find an easier way.
The bone marrow limits him. God, we’ve got to kill that bastard.”

“Grand is incredibly smart, incredibly rich and incredibly
viscous,” Tarren says. “That’s what makes him the most dangerous one of them
all.” His energy pulses a deep crimson, the color of dried blood.

“And he’s my father,” I say. “He is, isn’t he?”

Gabe looks to Tarren. “I don’t think…” he begins.

“I’m draining live fish for food. And…” My mind spins and
comes up empty. “And that sucks, okay. So just tell me.”

It’s Tarren who speaks. “Our father killed Robert Thane. It
took him two years to get close enough. You don’t know how hard it is to kill
an angel, especially a powerful one who feeds without restraint. It was a
terrible fight, but our father won.” The pride is evident in Tarren’s voice and
his aura. This is the closest to happy I’ve seen him, and it makes him handsome
even with the scar.

“Grand was Thane’s eldest son, and he wanted revenge.”
Tarren’s voice is somehow commanding even when he speaks softly, like now. “Our
parents were smart but also naïve in many ways. They were still trying to live
functional lives during the day. Grand had too many connections. Too much money.
He found them, eventually.”

“She doesn’t need to know the details,” Gabe says roughly.

There are two fish left in the bowl. They seem unconcerned
about the loss of their companions or what it could portend for their own
chances of survival. Their orange bodies make quick laps around the bowl with
thoughtless determination. They do not have the capacity for happiness or
sadness. Not fear either. Not hate. Not the strange sinking sickness when you
learn your father doesn’t fit any of the childhood roles you’ve dreamed up for
him. Not even the worst ones.

“Grand raped our mother and killed our father,” Tarren
continues in a flat, disengaged voice. “Slowly. He meant to take our mother
back to one of his labs as an experiment, but she…escaped.”

“She set the house on fire,” Gabe says and laughs suddenly.
“Grand had no idea what she was capable of. How deep the fight went inside her.
We were in daycare. She picked us up and fled.”

“Our parents had a contingency plan in place, naturally,”
Tarren adds.

“We hid for a long time,” Gabe says. “I don’t remember it. I
was only two, but she told me about it later. How afraid she was.”

“What was her name?” I rasp.

“Diana,” Tarren says. “She died six years ago. Cancer.”

I stare at his nose—a long straight bridge, round and
pronounced at the tip. It looks too big and cumbersome on me, but it fits
Tarren’s face perfectly. I hate that about him, the truth it conveys of our
shared parentage. I hate everything right now. Especially these stupid fish not
knowing that I’m going to kill them. Especially my stupid mouth that suddenly
opens and lets my whole world spill out.

“My parents, Karen and Henry, they never hid the fact that I
was adopted. They even didn’t mind so much when I stopped calling them Mom and
Dad, though I think it hurt Karen’s feelings. I was trying to rebel, sort of
and…and I always wanted to save those words, just in case…” My voice is
shaking, because I’m losing it. Really losing it, “…in case my real parents…in
case I found them and they wanted to take me back.

“And when I was little I would make up all these stories
about them. How they were a king and queen and had to hide me from an evil
wizard. The first story I ever wrote was about them. And I kept writing. A
hundred stories to justify why they gave me away. And then…oh shit, and then
when I got older I wrote different stories. I turned my parents into drug
addicts. Or my mom was a prostitute or the high school whore who got pregnant.
I made up terrible things because I was so, so angry.”

I really am trying to shut the fuck up, but I can’t. I’ve
never told this to anyone. Not even Ryan. “Because they didn’t want me. Maybe
my father never even knew about me, but my mother had no excuse. I hated her so
much, but now I know. She must have despised me …” and finally the words are
gone, and I’m surprised that there are no tears. Just a pinched throat that
doesn’t feel like it will ever open up again to let me breathe.

The boys are looking at me, but I can’t bring my head up,
not with their energy so close and my nerves unhinged and my hands, fuck them,
heating up. I keep my eyes on the oblivious fish.

“No Maya, it wasn’t that.” Gabe’s voice breaks through my
stupor. “Mom loved you. When she was sick she told me how she thought about you
all the time. She was so afraid when she got pregnant. Afraid that you would be
an angel. When you were born human, she told me it was the first time she
smiled since the fire. You gave her hope.”

“But why…give me up?” I can only manage a whisper.

“She had her reasons,” Tarren says in that sharp, clipped
voice that slams the door shut on our conversation and adds a padlock for good
measure.

“It’s getting late.” He gathers up the trash. “We’ll need to
start out early in the morning.”

Gabe remains seated, and his doleful eyes catch mine and
hold them. In a quiet voice he says, “Mom told me that she took comfort knowing
that you were out in the world living a normal life. That you would never be
burdened with the truth.”

Tarren’s face doesn’t betray a single twitch, but his aura
jolts red. He drops the trash into the bin.

I look back at Gabe. “Until now,” I say to him. I snatch a
fish out of the water and suck its life away. One left. I dip my hand into the
bowl.