Repairman Jack [07]-Gateways (32 page)

Only Semelee and Luke looked reasonably normal…if you discounted her wild white Medusa hair. Storm from the X-Men had nothing on Semelee in the hair department. She wore the same Levi’s and tight black vest as yesterday, but her long-sleeved shirt was red this time, with the top two buttons left open.

“Who’s this one?” she said, pointing to Carl. “He’s one of us, ain’t he.”

Luke flashed his nasty grin at Carl. “He sure is. He just don’t act like it.”

“How come I ain’t never seen him before?”

“You probably did but just don’t remember. Carl decided to leave right after you showed up. I don’t think we’re good enough for him no more.” He stepped closer. “Ain’t that right, Carl? Ain’t that right? But that was okay. This ain’t no prison. You can come and go as you please.” He got into Carl’s face. “But that don’t mean you can bring outsiders. You know the rule about outsiders.”

He reached to grab the front of Carl’s shirt and Jack laid a hand on his arm—gently but firmly. He wasn’t looking for a fight, not against these impossible odds, but he was not about to let Carl be manhandled.

“Don’t,” Jack said.

Luke’s fingers stopped inches from Carl’s shirtfront. “What?”

Jack kept his voice low but gave Luke a hard look, hoping he’d think twice. He didn’t have a plan—he’d been expecting an empty lagoon—but he was willing to ad lib, maybe do something quick and very nasty to make a point and throw the crowd off balance.

“Just…don’t.”

Luke glared at him, then glanced toward the water. “Back off or you’ll be goin’ for a swim.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad to me.”

“Yeah?” He grinned. “Look who you’ll be swimmin’ with.”

Jack turned and saw what appeared to be a giant turtle gliding toward shore. Its head was down but its mossy, four-foot long shell looked like a relief map of the Himalayas.

Then it raised its head—and then its other head. Christ, it had two—big, ugly, rough-hewn things—both of which were now angled up, their beaked, sharp-edged jaws agape, showing huge mouths that could fit a regulation NFL football with room to spare. Its four beady black eyes were fixed on Semelee as it reached the bank and waited with its long, snakelike tail thrashing back and forth in the water behind it.

Luke grabbed a fallen tree branch and shouted, “Show time!” He stepped closer and lowered the branch toward the waiting jaws. “This here’s a alligator snapper. When you take your swim—and we’ll see that you do—here’s what’s gonna happen to your arms and legs.”

The branch came to within a foot of the left head and in a flash the neck telescoped out and the jaws chomped, breaking it in half with a loud crunching
crack
, as easily as Jack might snap a toothpick. One of the halves tumbled into the right head’s strike zone and suffered a similar fate. Three pieces of branch floated on the water.

Jack’s tongue tasted dusty.

“‘When’?” Jack said, knowing this many guys would have no trouble tossing him into the water. But he couldn’t back down. “You mean ‘if,’ don’t you?”

Luke stepped toward him. “No, I mean—”

“Just hold on there,” Semelee said, wedging herself between them. “Ease up. This ain’t no way to treat company.” She turned to Jack. Her eyes locked on his, displaying none of the animosity radiating from Luke. “What’re you doing here?”

Jack had his reply ready. “You suggested we have a drink together. Well, here I am.”

“Bullshit!” Luke said.

This guy had one helluva chip on his shoulder.

Semelee ignored him and smiled. “Yeah. I can see you’re here. But I meant back in town.”

“I guess I misunderstood. I happened to mention you to Carl and—”

“You did?” Her face lit as her smile broadened. “You were talking about me?”

Jack realized with a start that she was infatuated with him. He couldn’t fathom why. She’d had a couple of glimpses of him and they’d exchanged a few sentences; she didn’t know anything about him.

Or did she?

Jack debated playing to her infatuation, then discarded the idea. It could backfire too easily, especially with the jealousy he sensed seething in Luke. It was plain that he wanted Semelee looking at him like she was looking at Jack.

“Yeah, sort of,” Jack said, keeping it neutral. “When Carl said he knew where you lived, I convinced him to take me there.”

“And here you are.”

“Right. But I wasn’t expecting such an unfriendly reception.”

“Oh, don’t take Luke too serious. He’s been right cranky lately.” She patted his arm. “Ain’t that right, Luke.”

The big guy only glowered at Jack.

“Hey,” said Carl, pointing along the bank with his oar. “Don’t tell me that’s the lights hole!”

“It sure is,” Semelee said. “Want to see?”

Lights hole? Jack wondered. What’s a lights hole?

Semelee led the way toward a patch of ground completely bare of vegetation. Jack followed Carl. The crowd parted to let them pass. The center of the bald area was pierced by a roughly oval opening, maybe eight feet across. It ran straight down into the limestone like a well. Jack even knew what it was called: a cenote.

He stopped next to Carl at the edge and peered down. Deep. Deeper than he’d expected. He could just barely make out the pool at the bottom.

Carl gasped. “It wasn’t never this deep. What happened to the sand?”

Luke grunted. “Semelee sold it. Some guys came here and sucked a whole lot of it out. You just missed them.”

“Got a pretty penny for it too,” she said.

Carl looked from Luke to Semelee. “Looks like I ain’t the first to break the no-outsiders rule.”

Score one for you, Carl, Jack thought.

“That was different,” Semelee said.

Carl didn’t seem to hear. His eyes were fixed on the hole.

“I was a-fearin’ this,” he said, “what with the drought’n all. The lights hole ain’t never been above water before. That’s bad enough. But then you went’n had sand sucked out.”

“Why’s that bad?” Semelee said. “I think that’s good.”

“Good? How can it be good? The light used to have to come up through the sand and the water, and even then, look what it did to us. Now there ain’t hardly nothin’ in the way.”

Semelee grinned. “Ain’t it cool?”

“Nuh-uh. That ain’t cool. That’s scary.”

Jack knelt at the edge and peered into the depths. He didn’t like deep holes, at least not since the spring when he’d had a bad experience with one out on Long Island. But that one hadn’t had a bottom. This one…

He found a thumb-size stone and dropped it. He heard a satisfying
plop
, saw ripples on the water far below.

…this one definitely had a bottom.

But for how long?

“What are these lights like?” he asked.

Semelee squatted close beside him. He glanced up briefly and noticed the others wandering off. The two of them had the hole to themselves.

“Like nothin’ you ever seen in your life.” Her voice was full of hushed wonder as she spoke. “I mean, whoever heard of lights comin’ outta the ground?”

Jack had seen light shooting up from a hole in the earth…just last spring.

“What color are these lights?”

“Sorta like pinkish orange, but that ain’t right. Every time you think you got the color pinned, it melts into somethin’ else just a teeny bit different. I can’t describe it. You gotta see it to believe it.”

Jack believed. He’d seen a light just like she described.

“How often do they come?” Jack asked, knowing the answer.

“Twice a year.”

“No kidding. When’s the next show?”

“Tonight.”

“But—” Jack caught himself. Anya had said the nexus points opened during the equinoxes, but that wasn’t until tomorrow night. He knew; he’d checked. But if he admitted that, Semelee would realize that he knew way more than he should.

She frowned at him. “But what?”

What to say? “But that’s too soon!” he blurted. “I won’t be able to get my cameras set up for—”

“Who said anything bout cameras?”

“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? I take some pictures of the lights and we sell them to the papers, to National Geographic, to—”

“Wait-wait-wait,” she said, waving her hands in front of his face. “What makes you think you’re gonna take pictures? Nobody takes no pictures of the lights.”

“No exceptions?”

“No way, no how. As a matter of fact, I can’t even let you see them, cause then you’d talk about them.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

Jack had no desire to see these lights, but he didn’t want to appear anxious to leave. Maybe the way to get out of here was to pretend to want to stay.

Semelee shook her head. “Maybe you wouldn’t, but I can’t risk it. Not yet, anyways. But maybe when I get to know you better…”

Jack noted how she said “when” instead of “if.”

“What’s wrong with getting to know each other now? We could go back to town, have that drink, maybe two or three, and do some serious talking.”

“Not tonight, or tomorrow or the next night, for that matter.”

“Why not?”

“The lights run for three nights. I gotta be here for that. But after Sunday…” She leaned closer and he caught her pleasant, musky scent. “… We got all the time in the world.”

That’s what you think, sister.

But he had to be careful here…hell hath no fury and all that.

Then he noticed the black shell dangling from the thong around her neck. The same size and shape as the one he’d found in his father’s hospital room. Even had a hole drilled at the hinge end. Had to be the same.

He pointed to the shell. “How’d you get that back?”

Semelee started and clutched the shell. Jack figured from the sudden widening of her eyes that she hadn’t wanted him to see it. Because that meant she’d visited the room a second time—and he didn’t like that one bit.

But if that were the case, why had she worn it around her neck and left the collar loose?

“What do you mean?” she said.

“I found it by my father’s bed in the hospital, right after you were there. When did you go back for it?”

“I…I didn’t.” She kept the shell wrapped in her fist. “I had two.”

“Oh.” That made Jack feel a little better—if she was telling the truth. “I guess I saw the other one then.”

“Where?” She grabbed his wrist. “Where’d you see it last?”

Jack was about to shrug and say he’d left it on the bedside table and assumed the housekeeping staff had chucked it out, but her tight grip on his arm and the intensity in her eyes made him hold off.

“I’m not sure. Let me think…”

Why was a damn shell so important?

He glanced around and noticed Carl was missing.

“Carl?” Jack broke Semelee’s grip on his arm as he rose to his feet and scanned the lagoon banks. “Hey, Carl! Where are you?”

“Never mind him,” Semelee said, rising with him. “What about that shell?”

Jack left her behind. He skirted the edge of the cenote and headed in the direction of the huts where he saw a number of the men sitting around the little fire, smoking, drinking, but Carl wasn’t among them.

Shit! Where was he?

He called his name a few more times but got no response. He asked the group by the fire where he was but they ignored him.

Jack’s gut began a little crawl. If they’d done anything to Carl it would be Jack’s fault for inducing him to come back here.

Luke strolled up to the fire. The men around it looked up, their mismatched eyes questioning, and he nodded to them.

“Where is he, Luke?” Jack said.

Luke didn’t look up, didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge Jack’s existence.

Jack’s concern boiled over into anger. He pulled the Glock and sent a round into the fire. The mini-explosion of ash and flaming embers scattered the men, sending them rolling and tumbling. Luke ducked away and faced him.

Now he had their attention.

“I’m going to say it once more, and this time I’d better get an answer: Where…is…Carl?”

“Right where he belongs,” Luke said. “With us.”

“He doesn’t want to be with you. He left, remember?”

“Maybe. But he’s had a change of heart. He’s gonna stay.”

Jack sensed movement around him. His peripheral vision caught about a dozen clan members scurrying toward him, armed with rifles and shotguns. Should have figured they’d be armed—couldn’t live out here and not do some hunting.

The newcomers didn’t seem to give Luke much of a boost in confidence, especially when Jack pointed the Glock at the center of his chest. “I want to hear that from him.”

Luke’s eyes darted left and right. He seemed about to say something when Semelee spoke up.

“Don’t worry, Luke. He ain’t gonna kill you.”

Jack glanced left and saw her standing a few feet away, smiling at him.