The Fury and the Terror Read online

  "You were great," he said soothingly. "You saved a lot of lives."

  Some of those who had made it out of the stadium were getting into their cars and SUVs and trying to drive away. Two vehicles crunched together. The trivial collision caused a ripple of amusement, as if they all needed a laugh. A woman with a poignantly distracted smile walked by holding a violin case saying, "Has anyone seen Bud? I can't find Bud." Other names were in the air, a frantic threnody from searching parents. "Ashley! Cody! Josh! Shariki!" A man wearing a red, white, and blue armband was shouting, "Civil Defense! This is a class-one Civil Defense emergency! Terrorists! The National Guard is being mobilized. Terrorists! Terrorists!" A Catholic priest with a ruddy sweating face jogged past Geoff carrying the vestments of the Last Rites. "Ahmad! Melinda! Sparky!" Not much smoke in the air, but still there was a lot of vomiting going on, as if they'd all been drinking from a poisoned well. The voiding of stomach contents was almost a form of communion. It had a life-affirming tone.

  Geoff unlocked the trunk of the Taurus, took out a blanket, and covered Eden. She gathered it close around herself. He put on a navy windbreaker with POLICE stenciled in white letters across the back and a baseball cap, hung his shield on a chain around his neck. He had a first-aid kit, flares, and a roll of yellow police-line tape in the trunk. He took it all with him. An EMT truck was making its way through the parking lot, starting and stopping, alert to erratic drivers, vehicles backing up and nudging forward, creating impasses, intricate patterns of disorder. Geoff glanced once more at Eden, who hadn't budged, then hitched a ride on the back of the truck to the crash site.

  "Eden?"

  The voice seemed to be coming to her through a waterfall. A familiar voice; she'd been listening to it just that morning, on tape. It was her own voice.

  "Go away," she said, not having the strength to lift her head. "I don't want you here. I didn't ask for you."

  "Yes, you did. Or I wouldn't be here. You ought to know how it works by this time."

  "Just leave me alone."

  "I wanted to tell you," her voice went on, "Riley's okay. I got to him after I turned the sprinklers on. Sprained his back or something, but—"

  Eden looked up then, at her own face. Her doppelganger was just outside the car, looking down at her. She was wearing a graduation gown that she had appropriated from one of the grads when the panic began.

  "Mom?"

  "Don't know yet. I'll scout around."

  "Mind your own business."

  "You're not being fair. I'm doing what you wanted me to do. Why do you have to be this cranky, every damn time?"

  "Because. I don't, I have never needed you."

  A gasp of indignation. "I saved Riley's life. And all the others, they were just standing around like slaughterhouse cows until the sprinklers came on."

  "Yeah. That was—quick thinking. Okay. You're right. I'm sor—please go and find Betts, I'm so worried!"

  "Eden?"

  "What?"

  "Do you think I could come out more often, and not just when it's like, you know, you're having one of your episodes?"

  "Good Lord no."

  Her voice in reply sounded wounded. "You could have sent me to Portland. Maybe I could have done some good there:"

  "Nobody would have believed you. And you—I mean I—would have been—"

  "When you're gay, they call it 'outed.'"

  "I know what 'outed' is. I couldn't do anything about Portland because I didn't know where the device was, what it looked like. I tried. I just couldn't find it in time."

  Eden began to sob.

  "Oh, don't." Her other voice. "It makes me want to cry too."

  "You ... wish."

  "I don't have feelings, is that what you mean? Feelings of my own. Well, I've got news."

  "You're not supposed to be anything but—"

  "A duplicate of my homebody. But what if that isn't good enough for me anymore? Eden, would you at least do one small thing?" Eden was silent, disapproving. "A favor. After all the good I've done for you. It's so important."

  "No. No, again. For the last time. I will not give you a name."

  "Because you don't trust me! What have I ever done to deserve—"

  Eden looked reluctantly into her own eyes. Saw nothing there but guile. Which made the customary rebuke easier.

  "The Good Lady told me, in no uncertain terms—"

  "But, Eden. Why can't you trust me? Have I ever been less than loyal? You know in your heart I would never do anything that would hurt you."

  "For the absolute we-will-not-discuss-this-again last time: no. Now go and make sure Betts is okay. That's an order."

  Eden blinked once, slowly. When she opened her eyes the doppelganger had vanished.

  She realized that a little band of survivors was watching her, from a discreet distance. Young adults her age, some still wearing their sodden graduation gowns. Among them was a girl she knew slightly, Kelly or Ashley or Kimberly. But her memory was fuzzy right now. Kel or Ash or Kim fastidiously wrung out the hem of her gown while gazing at Eden. None of the watchers smiled at her. No one seemed delighted to still be alive. Their reaction was more of a surly acceptance of their luck. One girl, hands clasped below her bosom, drying blood at the root of her nose, gazed steadfastly at the sky. Anticipating further chaos, or possibly a surprise appearance by God to annul the preceding event. Others, furtive, spoke in whispers. About her, Eden believed. Or maybe they were talking about the doppelganger, her mirror image. So that cat was out of the bag.

  Eden, feeling a buzz at the back of her neck, turned her face from them. Behind her a cameraman from one of the local TV stations had approached the car and was zooming in on her. Sunlight glinted on the camera lens. Eden winced as if shot, ducked her head, and slid down in the seat.

  "Why don't we get out of here?" someone next to her said.

  Eden looked the other way and saw a diminutive Chinese woman sitting behind the wheel of Geoff's car.

  "What?"

  "I've got maybe ten minutes," the Chinese woman said. "Could be less. Kelane's badly burned. Plus a crushed pelvis. The shock is too much. She won't make it."

  "What? Who?"

  "Sorry about the crash. That wasn't my bad. We would've made the runway okay. A smooth landing. I reprogrammed the autopilot, like Kelane said. But that other plane came out of nowhere. Probably some dentist on his day off."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Let's go somewhere else. You've attracted too much attention already." The engine of the Taurus roared. The car lurched forward, scattering those in its path. They saw Eden Waring in the right front seat with a blank expression on her face, next to her a Chinese woman whose forehead and glossy bangs barely rose above the top of the steering wheel. She appeared not to be in control of the car. The Taurus steered itself, on a zigzag course out of the disorganized parking lot, one of the madder aspects of a day that no one who had been in Red Wolves Stadium was ever likely to forget.

  "There's something about riding with the top down," the Chinese woman said, hands in her lap, the steering wheel turning according to mysterious directions.

  "You're a doppelganger, aren't you?" Eden asked.

  The woman shrugged in a melancholy way. "How did you know?"

  "Not hard. All of you like your little tricks. Driving with no—slow down!"

  "Why? We won't hit anything."

  "Isn't that what you thought about the DC-10?"

  Kelane Cheng's dpg looked sulky for a few moments. "What's that over there on the hill, a park of some kind?"

  "Memorial gardens," Eden mumbled.

  "Cemetery? Peaceful. It ought to do."

  The Taurus stopped short for a wailing ambulance from a neighboring town that made a turn off a main thoroughfare.

  "No headstones," the dpg observed as the Taurus drove them through the gates and along a gently winding drive.

  "Only markers. They can be marble or bronze. Not more than twelve inches long by six in
ches wide. There are covenants and bylaws you have to agree to before they let you—"

  "Move in?"

  She was a cheeky bitch, like her own doppelganger. Eden had had enough.

  "Stop the car."

  "Why?"

  "My head is killing me. I'm going to be sick."

  The Taurus slowed gradually and pulled over into the shade of several oak trees. The day simmered with the dry rhythm of cicadas. On this hilltop there was a drifting sweetness in the air from apple trees in bloom, from nearby flowerbeds and freshly adorned grave sites. South of the main campus of Cal Shasta half a mile away the wreckage of the DC-10 smoldered darkly. Red and blue lights flashed on dozens of police cars and emergency vehicles. A medevac helicopter zoomed over the cemetery, heading for the disaster zone. Eden held her head until the throbbing noise receded.

  "I guess there's a lot you still need to learn," the dpg conceded. "How old are you, twenty-one?"

  "Almost twenty-two."

  "But you will learn. Otherwise Kelane wouldn't have directed us to you."

  "Key-lawn-ee? Would you mind? Just who the hell—"

  "Kelane Cheng. The Avatar. But she's dying. Maybe it's what she planned. I don't get told everything. Anyway, not to keep you in suspense. You're the Avatar now, Eden. Ta-da! Congratulations."

  "Whatever that means."

  "It means you're a goddess in human form. But you knew that already."

  "Bullshit," Eden said; an instant before she went rigid from shock. "Greater than all the adepts, once you've had a little more seasoning. The common people will be attracted to the special glow that's yours alone. Star quality. They'll beat a path to your door, bearing gifts."

  Breath came back into Eden's body. "I'm only interested in being me. The rest of it sounds like trouble."

  Eden got out of the car and went down on all fours, forehead resting on sun-warmed grass. Her stomach heaved. She threw up, a prolonged effort, then rolled onto her back, groaning. Her stomach muscles hurt, but the tight band that seemed to be cinched around hear head eased its grip.

  When she opened her eyes she saw the doppelganger standing over her, vibrations frizzy and awry; she was cobwebbed like a bad TV picture.

  "You can see what's happening to me," the dpg said in a hollowed voice. "Kelane is about gone. I'm being sucked back into her ethereal vortex. In case you're curious, it doesn't hurt. On the other hand, it's not all that pleasant."

  "Oh, God. What do you want from me?"

  "There are things you need to know. First, trust your powers, and they will expand through your trust. Second, there is no limit to the good in this world, but the good must be nurtured. Third, there is no limit to the evil that finds its way to this world, and you must dedicate yourself and your powers to the containment of evil. How do you do that? There are no guidelines, as such. But you're a bright girl. You'll pick it up as you go along."

  "You sound like one of those superheroes comic books I used to read." Kelane Cheng's dpg began to waver in the air, as if her image was projected onto a sheer window curtain. She trembled in the breeze riffling through the boughs of the nearby oaks, a lonely little phantom with eyes of black pearl. Her voice grew fainter.

  "Don't be snide. Remember this: the Malterrans will know about you now. There are more of them to deal with these days, because the old gods have lost their pep and now Mordaunt is acting up again. But you know about that."

  "I—what? Who is Mordaunt?"

  "I don't have time to educate you. Should have been taken care of during your Dreamtime."

  "Malterrans? Do you mean the 'Bad Souls'?"

  "Yes. Unfortunately you won't always know them when you see them. Some of them are loaded with charm. The good news is you'll have some protection."

  "What kind of protection?"

  "The loving attention of your real mother."

  "My mother?! Where is she, can I see—"

  "No. Your mother was murdered on the earthly plane, almost a year ago today. She was the Avatar, before Kelane became the Avatar. So you might say you have a double helping of—oh-oh. Sorry. That's it. Kelane and I are finished here. Been good to know you, Eden."

  "Wait!"

  There was a bright burst of light like a spark from a live wire, accompanied by a faint far-gone humming sound. Then nothing, except for the breeze that conveyed the scent of floral tributes placed randomly across the hillside. Something narcotic in their sweetness. Eden's head felt heavy. She crawled through the grass to a space between the roots of one of the great old oaks and lay down there in dreamy exhaustion to grab the nap she urgently required.

  "I think what we have to do now is get Eden out of town. Quietly slip away. While the confusion lasts, and they're all still sorting out what happened."

  "Putting two and two together," Riley said, tight-lipped. His back was hurting bad.

  "Exactly," Betts said, prowling the rec room downstairs in their home, smoking, her eyes bright with urgency. "We'll lie low, wait for instructions."

  "Nothing may come of it, though. For all anyone knows, Eden simply went a little haywire. Case of nerves."

  Betts laughed unhappily, and lit another Merit from the one she'd been smoking. Riley cleared his throat in disapproval and tried to make himself comfortable in the rocking chair. He'd given himself a shot of Flexeril, but he was sure he'd slipped a disk this time.

  The phone rang again upstairs. The answering machine cut in immediately. But the tape had to be nearly full. Betts didn't need to listen to any of the messages to know what the calls were about.

  "Six thousand people heard her say an airliner was going to crash into the stadium. She was warning us to get out before anyone even saw the damn plane. No way to pass it off as mass hysteria. I wouldn't care to try." Betts gestured at the big-screen TV. The sound was off. "She's been all over CNN for the last two hours." She frowned. "This is no time for the unguardin' of Eden."

  "Betts, I was wondering—" Riley rocked slowly, trying to focus through the soft haze the Flexeril had put in his brain. "Just how far Eden has progressed, the last few years."

  Betts paused in her pacing. "Why ask that now? You never wanted to know before."

  "Because I've always—I've only wanted her to be—"

  "Healthy, happy, well adjusted. Well, she is. Eden has turned out beautifully. No wrinkles in her psyche."

  "But she—I was scared today. I'm still scared."

  "Maybe it's time for some boozter fuel," Betts suggested. "Applejack, or a shot of Black?"

  "Not with Flexeril. Betts, there were two Edens at the stadium this morning."

  Betts looked at him, and away, at the ashy tip of the cigarette in her hand. She smiled tiredly. "That so?"

  The phone again. Riley said, "Shouldn't we answer? Eden may be trying to get in touch."

  "She'd page one of us; leave a number where she can be reached."

  "Aren't you worried about her?"

  "Geoff said she has his Taurus. You know Eden. When she's upset or has a problem she needs to think through, she grabs a set of wheels and goes. Needs her solitude. Eden must know we're okay. When she's ready, we'll hear from her."

  "Are those TV lunatics still camped at the end of our drive?"

  "Noose hounds on the loose. Kvetching in our vetch." Her hand was trembling; she dropped a cylinder of cigarette ash on the hardwood floor.

  Riley winced. "Did you hear me the first time? Just before that plane crashed, I saw two Edens. At different ends of the stadium, at the same time."

  Betts looked cautiously at him. "The mind plays tricks, Riley."

  "Tell me I'm nuts, why don't you?" he said angrily.

  "Oh, honey. I'm not telling you that." Betts sat on an arm of the rocker, put her arm across his shoulders. "It's a little difficult to explain. Maybe you truly don't want to know."

  Riley's face convulsed. Tears leaked from beneath tightly closed lids. "She's my baby. I love her so much."

  "You have to accept."

  "
It's hard. So hard."

  "We knew from the beginning. The odds were heavily in favor of a supranormal child."

  With a wad of tissue Betts wiped his streaming cheeks.

  "Who have you told?" Riley asked.

  "You know better. Our deal was, we raise Eden with no interference. No financial help needed, or wanted. K has never violated those terms. Like you, K never wanted to know very much. Just the ordinary things. The baby pictures, the birthday parties, the bumps, bruises, and braces. She's been satisfied with tidbits, all these years."

  "In a little while, if she hasn't seen the news already, she'll be—"

  "Well, it was inevitable. I'll deal with K. We're still making the decisions. We go away for a little while. Have ourselves a good rest. Fletch Elstott can cover for, you, and as for my patients, well, I always take four weeks in the summer anyway. I'll just take them a little early, far from the hurly-burly."

  "Where—will we go?"

  "Greenwood. Not our place. John Hassler's sabbatical will keep him away until the end of June. I happen to know his lodge isn't rented for the month, so we'll take it. The keys are at Four-Star Realty. I think we can count on Chickie to keep her mouth shut as to our whereabouts. She owes me, anyway. Lord knows if I'd been billing her all these years for the kitchen-table therapy I've dished out gratis—"

  "You've always been a big softy."

  "This will all blow over. Memory is fragile and unreliable, particularly if there's trauma involved. Good cheer, m'dear. I'm going to sneak out the back way when the sun goes down, and make our arrangements. You need to apply wet heat where it's hurting."

  "Sneaking out of our own house," Riley said with a rueful grin. Then his face clouded again. "How does she do it? How is it possible that there could be two identical Edens?" His breathing was distressed. "I'm just a—I'm a horse doctor! The things of the mind, that you're so comfortable with—I can't deal with those things, Betts!"

  Betts tweaked one of his chins, drew thoughtfully on her cigarette; exhaled. The phone was ringing again.

  "Would you get my Bible for me?" Riley asked her. "I need my Bible."

  Eden woke up with a hell of a start in the cemetery on the hill.