The Burning City (22 page)

She climbed out into the cool morning air, shoes in one hand, hairbrush in the other.

And promptly dropped both.

Someone sat at the water’s edge twenty or so yards away, back to her, shoulders hunched; however, even from a distance with the person’s back turned, she was recognizable.

June stared, heart pounding, breath held. The ache in her stomach intensified, making her salivate.

It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be happening. Not another one.

June stood frozen, her mind racing. Maybe she was mistaken. Maybe it was someone else and she was losing her mind. She had to know, for her own sanity.

She walked slowly across the sand, toward the small white figure.

“Muse?” Her voice cracked.

The figure didn’t move. Drawing closer, June could see the woman’s white hair and tunic weren’t being stirred by the wind. The same white tunic Muse had been wearing the night she died.

June could barely make herself take another step toward her, but she had to see her face, had to know for sure.

She forced herself to walk up to the water’s edge, but stayed a few feet to the side. Muse stared out at the water, arms wrapped around her legs. She was pale and blank, unnervingly unnatural in her surroundings.

“What are you doing here?” June choked out. “You can’t haunt me too, Jesus Christ.”

Muse didn’t respond or look at her. She had many of the same traits as Rose—unresponsive, elusive, still. Aggravating.

“Was that you outside the tent last night?” Something occurred to June then, like a punch to her queasy gut. “How long have you been trying to manifest?”

The shuffling at Sam’s house, outside his bedroom and in the bathroom. What if Muse had been trying to appear and only had the energy to do so now? June had experienced other weird incidents at the hotel too—strange sounds and movements out of the corner of her eye. She passed them off as stress and imagination.

“Muse,” June said louder. Could she use her voice on ghosts? “Look at me. Answer me.”

Muse turned her head toward her, surprisingly and horrifyingly. Her eyes were blank and dead like Rose’s, her face motionless. No lights on in the house.

June stared at her. “What the hell are you doing here? Why are you following me?”

They’d talked about the afterlife once. Muse wondered what it might be like. Tears stung June’s eyes. This shouldn’t have happened to her.

Muse spoke then. “He’s in the home of our enemy.” Her voice was listless and emotionless, like Rose’s voice. “He’s in the fortress.”

“Who?” June clenched her fists at her sides. “Who are you talking about? Robbie? Occam?”

Muse didn’t respond, staring placidly at June with her dead eyes. Maybe she was outside the tent all night. Maybe she was in Sam’s house all the time. Watching them. Watching them with each other.

“Muse, I need you to be clearer with me.”

Micha’s ring made Rose more focused and responsive. Did Sam have anything that might help her with Muse?

“Find him where our enemy once was.” Muse looked back out over the water and fell silent.

June wanted to throw herself on the sand and scream.

“I’m sorry, Muse.” June trembled. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. I’m sorry you’re caught and can’t move on. It shouldn’t be like this.” She covered her face as the tears broke and spilled out. “I’m so sorry….”

When she lowered her hands, Muse was gone. She left no imprint on the sand.

June’s stomach lurched. She stumbled to the lake and threw up, mostly water, and not much, but still miserable and painful as always. When she stopped heaving, she plunked down on the sand, head in her hands, and cried some more.

“June?” Sam’s voice.

She lifted her head and wiped her cheeks. Sam appeared at her side and knelt, resting a hand between her shoulders.

“Sorry.” She sniffed. “I was sick.”

“It’s okay.” He rubbed her back. “You want me to grab you some water?”

She nodded.

He walked back to the tent. She raked her fingers through her hair. Should she tell him? How would he handle it?

He returned with a bottle of water. She took a few sips, soothing her burning throat. The experience was more awful when she didn’t have much to bring up and it was mostly stomach acid. She fought the urge to curl up in a ball and cry over everything. Cry at the injustice of it all, the pain.

Sam sat down beside her. “At least the beach doesn’t look too beat up. Cleanup won’t take that long.”

She capped the bottle, hands shaking. “I guess it was a success, huh?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed her shoulder. “It was a big success.”

She couldn’t bring herself to tell him, at least not right there.

They had to be off the beach by eight AM, so Sam made rounds waking people up and getting his crew together. People exited their tents and started packing up. Judging by the reduced number of tents some had already left during the night. June crawled into theirs and packed while Sam took care of business.

Cindy poked her head in as June was rolling up her sleeping bag.

“Good morning,” Cindy said. She had sunglasses on, her hair wild. “Sam has to stay here and oversee the cleanup, so I’m gonna drive you and the stuff back to his place.”

“Okay.”

“Did you have fun yesterday?”

“It was more fun than I thought it would be, yeah.”

“Did you have fun last night?” She smiled.

“About as much fun as you did.” June eyed her. “I heard the giggling over there.”

Cindy smiled wider. “Yeah, it was a lot of fun.”

June moved through the morning in a trance, her mind still caught on the image of Muse sitting at the water’s edge. She would have to tell Sam, if for no other reason than to pass on Muse’s message. Maybe he could make more sense of it than she could.

Before they left she found Sam, and he paused talking to a group of people to kiss her good-bye. Hoots and catcalls went up.

“I’ll be along soon,” he murmured. “Don’t worry about unpacking. I’ll do it when I get home. You just relax.” He patted her ass. More hooting.

“It was nice to meet you, tattooed lady!” a girl called out.

“Is that my new nickname?” June smiled. “Am I finally part of the circus?”

“You know me; I’m the ring leader.”

Cindy drove them back to Sam’s place. They were silent as they sped down the freeway, the beach shrinking away in June’s side mirror. She watched it until it disappeared.

“Hey, listen,” Cindy said. “I’m sorry about yesterday, about what I told you. I’ve got a huge mouth.”

“It’s all right.” It actually was. “I know he was just trying to help you. It didn’t mean anything.”

“Sam’s a good guy.”

“He must be, to offer his dick in sacrifice.” June shook her head. “So noble of him.”

“I was literally gonna die. It was really unpleasant.”

“Yes, his dick is nearly unbearable. I don’t know how I take it as often as I do.”

Cindy huffed. “I meant for me, the way my power was eating at me. I had nowhere else to turn. I was scared I’d hurt or kill someone.”

“I know. I forgive you. Just…no more TMI, all right?”

“Promise.”

Back at Sam’s place, June collapsed on the couch, still sluggish, slightly sun burned, and gritty everywhere. Dipity walked on her, purring and sniffing.

“Do I feel like a litter box?” June asked. “Please don’t poop on me.”

Cindy stuck around, and June took a long hot shower in the downstairs bathroom. She kept peeking around the curtain and listening. Hopefully, Muse would have the decency not to show up while she was in the shower. As the hot water poured over her, she struggled with what to do, how to tell Sam.

Sam came home a couple hours later. June sat slumped on the couch, watching the news. They were still talking about the vampires.

“Hey,” June said listlessly. “Beach all cleaned up? No fines?”

He held his phone, peering at it, frowning.

“All is well. Everyone behaved themselves.” He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “You smell clean. I can’t wait to shower.” He strode out of the room.

He returned a few minutes later with his laptop, still frowning.

“What’s up?” June asked as he plunked down on the couch beside her.

“Anthony. He’s not at home anymore.”

She leaned over so she could see the screen. He had a map up, a red dot in the middle of it.

“When did he leave?” she asked.

“Early this morning.” Sam zoomed in on the map. “He was downtown earlier, according to the app on my phone. Now”—he stopped zooming and tapped the screen—“he’s here.”

“Where’s here?”

Sam looked at her. “The Medical District.”

“Maybe he had a doctor’s appointment or something?”

“You know what’s in the Medical District, right?”

She sat up, a light bulb popping on in her head. “The Institute?”

“Yes, he’s close to it. I don’t know how accurate this thing is, but it says he’s within a block of it. He’s been there for over an hour.”

“Maybe he went to see the protests. There’s always people outside, from what they show on TV.”

“Does he seem like the type of guy that would go to a protest?”

“What the hell would he be doing there, then?”

“That’s the question.” Sam remained focused on the screen. “It’s not like I can ask him without blowing our plan.”

“Maybe he followed one of Robbie’s spies there.”

“What would Robbie’s spies be doing at the Institute?”

June shrugged. “Keeping an eye on things?”

Sam stood up, taking the laptop with him. He stood in front of the TV, staring across the room, and then he turned to her.

“We should find out what he’s doing,” he said. “Go spy on him.”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing? You want to go to the Institute and see what’s going on there? You realize if anyone sees you, they’re going to eat you alive. Not to mention the FBI will be just a tad bit anxious, don’t you think?”

“I’ll use my power. No one will even know we’re there.”

“We,” she said dryly.

“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to, but I’ve learned better than to tell you to stay put.”

She sighed. “Are we taking one of your cars?”

“I’ll ask Cindy if we can borrow hers. Mine might be recognizable. We won’t tell her what’s up. I don’t want anyone else in on what we’re doing, just in case Anthony talks to them.”

June sighed again. “All right. I suppose it’s a good idea to find out what he’s up to, especially since he’s not one to leave the house. Maybe he does have a doctor’s appointment or something.”

“I hope it’s as benign as that.”

As much as June wanted to spend the day in a vegetative state, she couldn’t let Sam go by himself. He took a quick shower, and she monitored the app on his phone while he cleaned up and dressed. Anthony didn’t move.

Cindy gave up her car without questioning. As they left, Cindy waved good-bye from the porch, holding Dipity, whom she also made wave with her paw. June waved back.

“Are you waving at the cat?” Sam asked.

“You’re a hater, Sam. Just a hater.”

The guards were still at the gate, but no reporters or gawkers.

“Vampires,” Sam griped. “Stealing the spotlight. Am I the only one left in this city not willing to slaughter people for attention?”

“Your cameras are probably still at the beach. I can’t believe you didn’t go talk to a single reporter yesterday.”

“Yesterday was about having fun.” He softened his voice. “I meant what I said last night. What I told you. It wasn’t just the heat of the moment.”

“I know. I meant it too.”

She did.

On the way, she struggled with whether or not to tell him about Muse. Maybe she’d wait until they found out what Anthony was up to. Muse’s words were certainly important, but maybe they wouldn’t be vital until they had context. Maybe she’d been talking about Anthony.

In the Medical District, they parked a few streets away from the Institute. June had been keeping an eye on the phone while Sam drove, and she handed it to him.

“Nothing yet,” she said. “He’s just sitting.”

Sam peered at the phone. “I wonder if he somehow discovered the chip and dropped it somewhere to confuse us.”

“Why would he drop it here? If I was gonna mess with somebody, I’d stick it to a dog or something. Why is Anthony digging through garbage cans and running through the park? Why does he stop at every fire hydrant?”

Sam opened his door. “Let’s go find out what he’s up to, then.”

They got out. June slipped her sunglasses on, as the day was bright and hot, like yesterday. At least she wasn’t at the beach.

Sam walked around the car and took her hand. Tingles rushed over her skin.

For once, Sam actually made himself look like a man. A blond man with a deep tan. She was a blond woman in a pink dress.

“Are we…Barbie and Ken?” She plucked at the skirt.

“We’re the exact opposite of ourselves. No one is going to recognize us.”

“You sure you don’t wanna be Barbie?”

“I’m trying out your boring being a man thing, all right?”

They walked about a block until the Institute loomed into view. Being in that area, seeing it up close again, she developed a serious case of the heebie-jeebies. She looked up at the building as they approached, her mouth dry and throat tight.

“He’s somewhere close.” Sam stared down at his phone. “What in the hell could he possibly be doing?”

As seen on TV, the area in front of the Institute—the sidewalk, the courtyard, even a parking lot off to the side—teemed with protestors. People were holding up signs. Camera crews were everywhere. Tents had been erected in the parking lot. Apparently, this was Occupy The Institute.

“This is heartening to see,” Sam said as they crossed the street toward the crowd. “This is all because of us.”

She tightened her grip on his hand, getting flashes of what happened the last time they joined a protest. “We shouldn’t get too close. We didn’t come here to gloat.”

They stopped on the sidewalk behind the crowd. June stretched up to see. A thick line of police officers in riot gear prevented the crowd from encroaching fully on the darkened front doors. Someone was speaking through a bullhorn nearby, raging about the Institute being “built on a mountain of lies.” Someone held up a sign that said “Paranormal Oppression = Hitler’s Wet Dream.”