Payback (6 page)

GAIA WATCHED AS CHARLIE PLACED
a peanut on the dining-room table and crouched down. He brought his eye level with the top of the table and studied the crowd as if he were lining up a cue with the ball. Then he reached up, pressed the tip of his thumb and forefinger together, and flicked. The peanut flew off the table and pelted some kid in a plaid shirt with a choppy haircut on the back of the neck.

He flinched, reached back to touch his wound, and turned around, glaring in Gaia and Charlie's direction. "What are you --"

"Duck!" Charlie whispered. Before Gaia could even ask him why they should bother, he grabbed her wrist and tugged her to the floor. His face was inches away from hers as he laughed like a little kid who'd just found a dollar on the sidewalk. He had good teeth but onion-dip breath.

"Do you think he saw us?" Charlie asked, pressing one hand against the carpet to keep his balance.

Gaia rolled her eyes. "No. We're both invisible, actually."

"Your turn," Charlie said, pressing a few sweaty peanuts into her palm.

"I don't think so," Gaia said. "You've already taken out most of the room." She suddenly wished Mary
had
shown. Fun didn't get much cleaner than using Planters' Best as miniature weapons. And she had a feeling Mary would have perfect aim.

Charlie bit his lip and grinned. "Come on," he whispered. "There's gotta be someone you want to peanut pelt."

How about half the world's population? Gaia reached above her head and opened her fingers above the edge of the table, rolling the peanuts onto the thick surface. Then she pushed herself up on her knees so that just the top of her head was visible over the table. She scanned the room for her target, found her mercifully close by, and took aim.

Charlie popped up next to her just as the projectile nut hit Heather right on the cheek.

"Ow!" Heather protested, slapping at her face.

"Nice!" Charlie whisper-shouted.

Gaia cracked up laughing and rolled under the table. Charlie was practically crying from the effort to hold in his mirth.

"I didn't actually just do that," Gaia said, holding the heel of her hand to her forehead.

Charlie shrugged. "I'm buzzed -- what's your excuse?"

Gaia had a slew of great excuses. She was obviously being controlled by an alien race. Or Ella had slipped some kind of upper into her water. Or she was asleep and dreaming. It had to be one of those because laughing wasn't something Gaia did in real life. Almost ever.

"Do you think it's safe to stand up?" Charlie said.

"Whatever," Gaia answered, pushing herself to her feet. She looked around, expecting the dagger glare, but Heather was off in the corner, flirting with some kid with an underdeveloped goatee. Interesting. Did this mean that Sam was a thing of Heather's past? The possibility brought yet another smile to Gaia's lips. Somebody should be writing this down. Recording it all for posterity.

Gaia Moore. Monday, November 30. Five-plus smiles. Actual laughter. Subject obviously acutely disturbed.

"You have an amazing smile," Charlie said, his voice so close, Gaia almost thought it was coming from inside her own head. She was surprised when it sent her heart racing. Her mind searched for something to say. She was sure there was a proper response for something like that, but it wasn't anywhere in Gaia's memory banks.

She just stopped smiling.

"Do you want to go somewhere?" he asked, looking out at the crowd as Gaia followed his gaze. The plaid shirt guy was still eyeing them suspiciously. "Somewhere where the natives aren't out for blood?"

Stuffing her hands under her arms, Gaia glanced at Charlie. His sparkly eyes had turned serious. He didn't want to get away from the natives. He just wanted to get her alone. Even someone as inexperienced in romance as Gaia could figure that one out. But being alone with him was out of the question. There was no telling what she might manage to do wrong.

"I . . . uh . . ."

Yet another situation with no ready response. Gaia looked at the door, the hall, the window. At all places leading out. They each looked really far away.

Glancing at Charlie, Gaia was hit by the sudden urge not to hurt the feelings of the third person who'd been nice to her since she'd come to the city. Stranger still, she also realized some small part of her wanted him to continue wanting her. He was nice. Funny. Cute. Uncomplicated. And he seemed to like her. Gaia Moore. The freak with the huge shoulders and the even huger thighs.

Gaia racked her brain for a graceful bow out. She came up blank. When was she going to wake up and start watching soap operas instead of
Scooby-Doo
reruns?

Somehow "Shaggy! Run!" didn't seem appropriate at the moment.

ABOUT FIVE SECONDS AFTER ENTERING
Tim's apartment, Ed was convinced that the Tin Man from Oz didn't know how good he had it. Not having a heart seemed like a huge blessing.

Gaia was standing about ten feet away from him, and she was smiling. At Charlie Salita. Charlie every-girl-in-this-room-has-wanted-me-at-some-point-in-her-life Salita. The guy was wearing a brown chenille turtleneck and black pants with highly shined black shoes.

He made Ed look about as sophisticated as Elmo.

Ed was about to cut his losses and maneuver his chair around -- no easy feat on carpeting that was about three inches thick -- when he heard the most beautiful sound ever to float past his eardrums.

"Fargo!"

It was Gaia Moore, spitting out his name.

"Hey!" he said, looking up as Gaia stalked across the room toward him, leaving a baffled-looking Charlie in the dust.

Ed didn't care that Gaia looked like she was out for blood and that she could probably crush his fingers with a flick of her hand. He steeled himself for the onslaught of blame. He was over an hour late. He knew it. He was willing to accept his punishment as long as it kept Gaia away from Charlie the Suave for a few seconds.

"I know, hit me," Ed said when Gaia reached his side. "Let me have it. I know you hate me."

"Thank God you're here," Gaia whispered, glancing at Charlie over her shoulder. "Can we go now?"

"Hey! Gaia the Brave!" Tim Racenello sauntered up to Ed and Gaia and handed each of them a beer. "Hey, Shred," Tim greeted Ed, chucking his chin in his direction.

"Hey," Ed said, forcing a smile. Had it escaped Tim's attention that he'd just interrupted the nice little triumphant moment Ed had been having?

"So, Gaia," Tim said, shaking his hips comically and dancing right up to her. Ed almost cracked up at the unabashed look of irritation on Gaia's face. A look that Tim, of course, was oblivious to. "Want to dance?" Tim asked.

Gaia reached out, took Ed's beer, and placed it with her own on top of the stereo console at the end of the hallway.

"We're leaving," she said, swinging around to face the door. Before Ed turned to follow her, he saw Tim's face fall so quickly, it defied the laws of physics.

And that was when Ed discovered what bliss felt like.

HEATHER LEANED AGAINST THE
wall in Tim's hallway, staring at the white front door of the apartment. She wasn't sure why she was staring at it, but she'd been doing it for so long, she was sure there was a reason. If she could only remember ...

"Heather?"

She moved her head too fast, and her eyes started to swim around in their sockets. Heather giggled. She felt like a fish in a very round bowl. She reached out and grabbed her friend Laura's arm, although she wasn't sure if it was Laura, or Megan, or someone else entirely who had said her name.

"Hey!" Heather said, rubbing the sleeve of Laura's sweater between her thumb and forefinger. "This is
really
nice."

"Are you okay?" Laura asked, pulling her arm away. Heather just stared at it.

"Yeah. Did the door, like, do something to offend you?" Megan asked, scrunching up her entire face so that she looked like a cartoon version of herself. "You looked like you wanted to kill it or something."

"I'm waiting for Sam," Heather said, blinking. At least she wished she was.

Megan's eyebrows shot up. "Sam's coming?"

"No."

"Oh."

Megan and Laura exchanged pitying looks that Heather wasn't about to stand for. These two were boring her, anyway. She had to find someone to talk to. Someone who wouldn't constantly re-mind her that she was supposed to have this perfect boyfriend as part of her supposed perfect life.

"I have to go," Heather said, walking along the wall away from them. She stumbled over her own feet and heard Laura and Megan giggle but ignored it. Like they were ones to talk. How many times had she walked them home, stopping every few feet so they could vomit in the sewers? She was allowed to get drunk every once in a while. Although she wasn't sure exactly how she'd gotten
this
drunk. She'd finished off the beer that Scott had given her and decided to call it a night, but somehow her head was now spinning out of control.

Where was Gaia? Where was the bitch hiding? Heather suddenly felt an intense need to tell the girl off. More intense than the usual, day-to-day, moment-to-moment need, anyway.

Heather took her hand away from the wall for a moment. Bad idea. Then someone walked into her shoulder, hard, and Heather decided that the wall was the safest place for her, at least until she found someone to talk to.

When had this party gotten so crowded? Everywhere Heather looked, there was an unfamiliar face, and the place was starting to get unbearably hot. Probably because of the smells. All kinds of scents -- perfume, colognes, alcoholic beverages, processed food, and smoke -- were choking the oxygen out of the room. They seemed to make the place even warmer, combining to form a thick cloud that locked in the heat like the greenhouse effect.

Air. Air would be good.

"Hey, Heather."

She looked up to find Charlie hovering next to her, a semiconcerned smile on his lips.

"Where's Gaia?" Heather blurted out, forgetting momentarily that she was having breathing issues.

"I think she left," Charlie said, leaning one shoulder against the wall. He took a sip of his beer and grinned at her, his eyes sparkling. "Doesn't matter, anyway. I've been wanting to talk to you all night."

"Really."

It was a line. Even through her inebriation, she could spot that one from a good ten yards. But it didn't matter. Gaia had obviously pulled a Gaia and done something repelling to scare Charlie off. Why Sam was immune to her freakishness was beyond Heather.

Sam. What was going on between him and Gaia? It was something. She knew there was something on his side because he'd told her. Actually
told
her. But was there something actually
going on?
And if so, was it something big? Or something minuscule? Was it even real?

"Heather?"

No. It was real. It was in his eyes. Her eyes. Maybe Gaia had gone to find him. Maybe they were hanging out together right now. Kissing. Holding hands. Laughing at her.

Maybe they were in love.

"Heather?"

"Do you want to go somewhere?" Heather asked, her eyes truly focusing for the first time in over an hour.

Charlie's smile was practically blinding. He really was hot. Hotter than Sam, maybe. Certainly more wanted than Sam. Certainly more here than Sam.

"I have the perfect place." There was a flash of something in Charlie's eyes as he said it. Something disturbing enough to make Heather's heart skip a quick beat. But it was just a flash. And it was just Charlie. And Heather just wanted to get out of this room. He held out his arm, just like an old-fashioned gentleman, and Heather only stumbled a little as she took it.

GAIA COULD HAVE SWORN SHE
smelled the gas before she even heard the crash. She and Ed had just made it across Fifth Avenue when a moving truck skidded through a red light and fishtailed, taking two cabs and a VW Beetle with it. There was a huge cacophony of screeching metal, shattering glass, and earsplitting screams and then an odd sort of silence.

"Oh my God," Ed said, his voice sounding like it came through a black tunnel to reach her ears.

That was when she heard the baby wailing.

Ed grabbed at Gaia's fingers, probably predicting what she was about to do, but she twisted out of his grip easily. She busted through a group of onlookers, half of whom were gaping, the other half helpfully dialing 911 on their cell phones.

"Huge truck --"

"Fire starting --"

"Get an ambulance here as --"

A few words repeated themselves in Gaia's mind as she skidded toward the crumpled, flipped silver Beetle.

Gas. Fire. Baby. Mother. Explosion. Orphan.

Gaia hit the ground on her knees, ripping gaping holes in her pants. The grit and slimy grime of the street pressed their way into the wrinkly flesh around her knees, along with a few pieces of glass. Some part of her brain registered the fact that that was going to hurt later. All she could consciously deal with at the moment was the sight of a red-faced, screaming baby, relatively unharmed, hanging upside down in his car seat.

And the sight of a woman, knocked out, bleeding from the forehead, pressed at an impossible angle against the roof of the car, her arms flopped over her torso like a rag doll's.

"Lady!" someone yelled from the side of the street. "Get out of there! It's gonna blow." The voice sounded panicked. Gaia knew she was probably about to die, but it didn't hit her. Nothing ever hit her the way it was supposed to.

Gaia stuck her hand under the woman's nose, fully expecting to feel the cold absence of breath but instead feeling a little burst of warmth. She was still breathing. Good. But the baby had to come first. Gaia flipped over onto her back and shimmied her way through the smashed window of the car, sliding along the inside of the roof.

It was a close fit, but she managed to cram her body under the screaming child. She held his stomach with one hand, and unhinged the tiny cloth belt on his seat with the other. Cradling the wailing baby against her chest, Gaia slowly squirmed her way back out the window.

Luckily there was a cop standing right over her, panting. His face was determined, but his skin was sallow.

"Give him to me and get the hell out of here," the tall, burly cop said.

Gaia handed him the baby and immediately crouched down to work on the mother.

"Girlie," the cop spat over the screams of the baby and the wail of too distant sirens. "There's gas. There's fire. How stupid are you?"

Stupid. Crazy. Fearless. It was amazing how the interpretations varied.

"So go," Gaia said, reaching into the car and grunting as she worked at the twisted mess. There was no more blood, which made Gaia feel a little better about her prospects, but the buckle seemed to be jammed.

"You're crazy," the cop said, before turning on his heel and fleeing. Gaia could smell the gas. She could hear the fire and feel its heat. Desperate yells and screams rang out from the side of the road, the loudest of which was Ed's. And the sirens grew louder and more persistent every minute, piercing her head with sharp slices of pain.

But she ignored all of it. She had to. It was the only way she could work.

Gaia jammed her thumb into the belt button with every ounce of strength one digit could contain, and it finally popped free. The woman slumped even farther. Gaia reached out a hand and cradled the woman's head.

She heard a popping sound and briefly wondered if that meant the whole car was about to burst into flames. Would that be the last sound she ever heard?

The woman moaned, and Gaia grabbed her under the arms, pulling her free from the car. The woman's heel caught on a chip of glass. It pulled off her shoe, and a long gash opened in the flesh around her heel.

The woman didn't seem to feel it, so Gaia ignored it as she dragged the woman across the street at a run. As she got closer to the sidewalk, a large man in a business suit and overcoat came out and took the woman up in his arms.

"Inside," he told Gaia, nodding toward the Pier 1 Imports store, where a couple dozen people were ducked behind furniture, trying not to look at the wreck. Gaia saw Ed staring at her from behind the counter, his eyes full of fear, anger, and gratitude.

Gaia opened the door, the man ducked in with his burden, and the whole sky turned to flames.

There were more screams. A shower of glass. Still outside, Gaia felt the thrust of heat and turned to look at the road, watching as a puff of flame and smoke rose up from the Beetle in a cloud that extinguished itself as quickly as it had appeared.

It was actually kind of cool. Like a Fourth of July firework.

Before Gaia could even register how sick it was that these were her thoughts at a time like this, she was bombarded by more people than she ever wanted in her personal space.

"Are you insane?"

"How did you do that?"

"Do you want to go out sometime?"

"Hey! There's the news van! Over here!"

As Gaia wiped the itchy sweat from her brow, she caught a glimpse of a big blue van with a huge antenna screeching toward the scene of the accident. The Pier 1 crowd was gesturing wildly for the driver's attention, clamoring for their fifteen minutes and wanting to thrust Gaia's upon her.

There was a bright white light. A couple of flashes.

"Ed?" Gaia yelled, searching the crowd for him.

"I know," he said, right at her elbow. "Let's go."