The River (31 page)

No pun intended…right, Dad?

Her hands trembled, and the tiny red light jumped from Paughter's head to the wall.

Focus…

Paughter's body twitched, and Del swore under her breath.

The infrared light had caught his eye.

He peered down the tunnel to the cave, then twisted his head in the opposite direction. His gaze shifted restlessly, from the shadowed recesses of the cave to the men standing along the wall.

Then slowly, he lifted his head.

Del glimpsed the whites of his eyes staring directly at her, and she drew in a long, uneven breath.

Paughter's mouth curved into a smile. "Delila, do you even know how to fire one of those?"

When she remained silent, he laughed mockingly. "Bet you've never held a gun."

Her finger caressed the trigger.

"I could blow us all to hell," he reminded her, his thumb hovering over the detonator.

She gritted her teeth. "Or you can go by yourself."

The sniper rifle hissed.

Paughter's body dropped to the ground, eyes wide, stunned.

"Head shot!" she whispered, resting her forehead on the locker.

No one moved, no one spoke.

But the voices in Del's head roared.

You killed him! How could you? Murderer…

She wiped away a tear.

How can I live with this?

She lifted her head and her eyes swept across the tunnel, to Hawk's lifeless form. He had been a good man, with a kind heart and spirit. She would miss him.

Avoiding Paughter's body, she looked at her father who had been held hostage for seven years. A man forced to do dreadful things in order to survive, in order to keep his family safe.

A movement caught Del's eye.

She held her breath as Jake cautiously removed the bomb belt from around Kate's waist. He tossed it inside the elevator and pushed the
up
button. As the elevator made its slow ascent, he cut through the cords that bound Kate's hands. The poor girl was a bundle of nerves. As soon as her hands were freed, she peeled aside the tape and threw her arms gratefully around Jake.

Del looked back at Paughter's limp, dead body.

Could she live with his death on her hands?

Her eyes were drawn to the swell of Kate's belly.

Yeah, I can live with it.

She slid down the side of the lockers, and Jake grabbed her around the waist and lowered her to the ground. Cradling her face, he kissed her on the mouth. Hard and quick.

Behind them, TJ noisily cleared his throat. "The air in here is getting―"

He doubled over in a coughing fit.

Del rushed toward him. "TJ, are you all right?"

"Yeah…well, no. I feel weird."

Her father yanked TJ close to the lights.

Del stared in shock.

TJ's face was aging―not as quickly as Paughter had, but he was aging.

"What?" he demanded.

Following their eyes, he stared at his fingers. Tiny cobwebs of wrinkles appeared, racing over the tops of his hands and trailing up his arms.

"What's goin' down, dawg?" he asked, confused.

Del turned to her father. "What do we do, Dad?"

"There's nothing we
can
do. I'm sorry, TJ. It's too late."

TJ nodded slowly. "So I'm a walking dead man. How much time have I got?"

"Two weeks, maybe three. But it's painful at the end."

"Dad!" Del hissed.

She wanted to shake her father. Why was he telling TJ this?

"Someone's in the tunnel," Jake said, cutting in.

She heard it too. The soft pounding of footsteps.

TJ coughed and spat out a bloody tooth.

"Go on. I'll take care of anyone else who tries to follow."

"What are you talking about?" she demanded.

He opened his hand, revealing the small domed bomb he had taken from her in the weapon room.

"You have five minutes. Then I'm blowing the tunnel. Course, I'm guessing that the explosion'll take out this section only. Not the portal."

Del threw her arms around him. "Come back with us, TJ! We'll find a way―"

"No, Del," he said. "This is my chance."

She leaned her forehead against his. "Chance for what?"

"To make things right. I love you, Del. I always loved you. I made a stupid mistake, tried to do the right thing by Julie…"

He shook his head. "Run, Del!"

Jake and her father peeled her away from TJ.

"Run!"
Jake yelled.

And Del ran. Faster than she had ever run before.

She followed Jake and her father, her feet pounding on the hard slate floor.

Time was running out.

They veered around a corner.

Down another set of steps.

Running…faster.

Six, eight…twelve steps lower.

Hearts pounding.

Toward the blue light.

Faster!

They ran for their lives.

Del's chest burned when they finally reached the cave.

A few feet away, the mysterious crystals emitted their soft blue light and buzzing drone.

All of a sudden, a loud explosion rocked the tunnel.

The thunderous boom shook the cave walls, and she was thrown into the air. She slammed down on top of Jake. Her father landed beside them. Chunks of rock fell from the ceiling, and Jake threw himself over her, protecting her. No one moved until the rumbling stopped and a tomblike calm filled the tunnel.

"Ok, let's make this quick," Jake said. "There are three of us. It'll take roughly sixteen minutes for all of us to go through."

Del let out a moan of relief. Time to go home.

"Wait," her father called. "I have something for both of you."

She didn't know what to say.

What could he possibly want to give them?

Her father hugged her tightly. "I love you, Del."

Then his arm snaked out, gathering Jake in. "You're the son I never had, Jake. Look after my daughter. She's my heart and soul."

Del frowned. "I don't need looking aft―"

A sharp pain pierced her thigh.

Startled, she jumped back, gasping in shock.

Her father was holding two empty syringes.

Hypnos…

Her mouth trembled. "Dad?"

Beside her, Jake rubbed his leg, scowling. "What the hell?"

Lawrence kissed her forehead. "Trust me, honey.
Hypnos
puts the rogue bot to sleep. Permanently. There will be no way for anyone from the Centre to activate it. Ever."

He sneezed loudly into his hand, then turned away hastily.

She narrowed her eyes. "Wait! What about your syringe?"

"There were only two samples. Get going now."

Turning, she stumbled shakily toward the buzzing light.

Pausing at the edge, she said, "Jake, I―"

Jake reached her in three strides, kissing her hard. His hands feverishly touched her, memorizing every line, every inch of skin.

He pulled away and his eyes captured hers. "Me too."

Moving between the crystals, she caught sight of her father.

He stood in the corner, his back to them, shoulders stooped.

"Go home, Del!" he barked. "Jake will be right behind you."

Her eyes burned, mesmerized by the droning hum and the strange twisting tentacles of light that crawled up her legs. The air around her began to shift and the cave walls yawned.

Staring at Jake, she raised a metallic blue hand.

"Do you believe in destiny, Jake?"

He mouthed something she couldn't hear.

"What?"

"I'll find you, Delila Hawthorne,"
he said, his voice distorted.

He held up his hand.

In it, he held the detonator for the bomb belt that he had shoved into the elevator. He must have pushed it, because somewhere high above a loud boom erupted. The ceiling began to crumble as chunks of rock and fragments of crystal broke away.

"I love you, Dad!" she cried. "I love―"

In a burst of blinding energy, she sensed her body splitting apart, disintegrating into billions of DNA molecules.

Dust to dust…ashes to ashes.

Delila Hawthorne died a billion deaths.

The Present

J
ade Hawker stared out the window at the snow-covered streets of Québec City. Ducking her head, she allowed her straight black hair to fall forward as she slid a pair of sunglasses over chocolate brown eyes. She peeked around the room.

A businessman in a dark suit eyed her. His suit reeked of money, and with money came power. And with power came…

She shivered.

This was the first time in a month she had allowed herself the luxury of a steaming mug of Chai tea at a hole-in-the-wall café.

The place was packed. And that created a problem.

Someone might recognize her.

Jade glanced at her watch.
Half an hour until her appointment.

The executive unexpectedly appeared at her side.

She kept her head bent slightly.
"Oui?"

The man smiled. "Est ce que nous nous sommes déja rencontré?"

Have we met before?

She drew in a breath, shook her head.
"Non."

Apprehensive, Jade took a sip of tea. A long sip.

The man's eyes lit upon the simple wedding band she wore.

"Je m'excuse, mademoiselle…uh…"

"Please, leave me alone."

Jade rose swiftly.

It wasn't safe to be out too long in public. Someone might discover who she really was―although some days she had to question that herself.

Jade Hawker worked in Québec City, in a quaint privately owned flower shop,
Le Fleuriste Duchesne
. Jade had no family, no close friends…no husband. She was a loner who rarely went out―unless she
had
to. Like today.

Jade Hawker
was a combination of two names. Hers and Jake's.

It had taken Del two weeks to come up with it. Before that she had been
Diana Smith
. Before that,
Debbie Hampton
. But each time,
they
had found her. And each time, she had escaped by sheer luck.

She was learning though, getting better at changing her identity and blending in. This time she had grown her hair past her shoulders, dyed it black and bought brown contact lenses. And she had gained some weight, about fifteen pounds. She doubted that anyone would recognize her now. And they certainly wouldn't think to look for her in Québec. They were probably still searching Alberta, maybe even the Northwest Territories.

The thought made her chuckle at first, then she grew sad.

It seemed like an eternity had passed since eight near strangers had first stepped foot on the shores of the South Nahanni River. A river brimming with life―and cursed by death.

Miki, Francesca, Gary, Hawk, TJ…none of them had made it.

Neither had her father.

She had heard his hoarse, labored cough and had seen the wrinkles rippling in his face before he turned away.

She thought of Jake.

For a week, she had waited for him, searching the river's shores around The Gate. Looking for a footprint, a sign.

But he never appeared.

It was Hawk's partner, Henry McGee, who had found her wandering mindlessly on the banks of the river. He had been out on his weekly walk, searching for all the lost souls who had gone missing, including his partner and friend.

At first McGee hadn't believed her story.

Who would? It was an insane story, an impossible one, filled with images of time travel portals to the future, microscopic nanobots and fountain-of-youth serums.

She showed him the memory stick that her father had dropped into her pocket right after he had stuck her with
Hypnos
. McGee still didn't believe her. Not even when she showed him the strange ankh key―the one that Blackwell had given her. Unfortunately, the technology of it was so advanced there wasn't a computer designed yet that could read it.

Frantic to convince McGee that she wasn't insane, she had grabbed a knife and sliced open her arm. It was probably the most insane thing she had ever done.

But when it healed before McGee's eyes, he finally believed her.

Henry McGee, with his grizzled old face, had been a godsend. Especially when he noticed the strange aircraft flying over the area. He had rushed to warn her, then he had moved her out of his cabin and helped her find Hawk's cave after she refused to leave the area.

She couldn't leave. Jake was coming for her. He had promised.

One day, McGee accompanied her on a walk and she tearfully told him how Hawk had died. Without a second thought, she took out a pocketknife and lopped off a blond curl. She placed it on a flat rock, then piled three smooth stones on top.

"The land provides all things for us," she murmured. "Hawk was provided for me when I needed him so I leave the land a token of my gratitude."

McGee had stared at her for a long time. Before he broke the connection, she caught a glimpse of tears in the old man's eyes.

A week went by.

There was still no sign of Jake, and McGee was worried. He had heard rumors that some influential people were searching for her. A few had shown up at Fort Simpson, when she was registered in a hotel as
Debbie Hampton
. McGee had helped to smuggle her out.

A few days later,
Diana Smith
made it to Vancouver and gave the taxi driver an address a block from her house. He drove past it and she gaped in shock.

The bald guard from the Centre for Enlightened Living was sitting in a lawn chair in the garden. Kayber was curled up on his lap. Lisa was nowhere in sight.

The following day, Del came across a brief article in the archives of the
Vancouver Sun
. A few weeks earlier, Lisa Shaw's body had been pulled from the rubble of an art gallery explosion. She had to be identified by her dental records.

Gulping down the last of her tea, Del wiped away a straying tear and stared out the café window.

If it wasn't for Phoebe, I'd be dead too.