Dark Season: The Complete Box Set (128 page)

Shelley

 

Wyoming, Today.

 

I'm woken by the smell of bacon cooking in a pan downstairs. For a moment, I'm gripped by a ravenous hunger, but as soon as I sit up in bed, I feel my stomach do a somersault and I almost throw up. The events of last night come back to me in a big, hideous mess: I went out to a little bar in town, got blind drunk, met a guy, and... I look around to make sure that I'm alone. What happened with that guy? He wasn't bad-looking, so it's quite possible I went home with him for a while, but I seem to have ended up back at my friend Alice's house, sleeping - as has been the case for the past week - in her son's bed. I grab my phone and see that it's 1pm, which means I've almost slept another day away. I have a vague memory that I dreamed of old Mrs. Hard-Ass, a teacher from back when I was a kid. A shudder goes through my body as I remember her vulture-like face.

"You were out late," Alice says as I stumble into the kitchen a few minutes later. Still wearing my dressing gown, I head over to the fridge and grab some milk, drinking directly from the carton. "Do you have to do that?" Alice asks.

"What?" I ask, puzzled for a moment. "Oh, right." I wipe the lid of the milk carton on my dressing gown sleeve. Well, it's not actually
my
dressing gown. It's Alice's, like everything else in this house.

"Can you go to the shops for me in a bit?" she asks, dishing the bacon up onto a plate along with a couple of eggs and a fried tomato. "I've been run off my feet all morning." She brings the plate over and puts it on the table. "Eat," she says firmly, with authority.

"Me?" I ask. "Isn't that for you?"

"I've already had lunch," she replies. "And breakfast. I was going to bring this up to you in bed, but now you're down, you might as well eat at the table like a civilized person."

I smile as I take a seat. "You're the best friend ever." As I start to eat, I watch Alice cleaning the kitchen work surfaces. It's strange, but since I arrived here in Wyoming last week I've started to see her totally differently. Before, I thought she was kind of pathetic. She used to be a marketing executive, but she gave up her career in order to be a full-time housewife and mother. When we were younger, she was full of radical feminist ideas, and then she did a three-sixty turn and settled for a life like this. I couldn't understand it at first, and I'd go out partying and feel sorry for her stuck at home. Now, though, I'm starting to think I would have liked a life like this.

"Those eggs okay?" she asks.

"Perfect," I reply, slowly starting to feel a little more human. Damn it, I'm not going to drink for a few nights. I know I said that yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, but this time I really mean it.

"I need to ask you a question," Alice says suddenly, turning to me with an awkward look on her face. "Don't take this the wrong way, Shelley, but Tom and I need to plan things ahead a little bit. You're welcome to stay for as long as you need, but if it's going to be much longer, we were thinking of maybe moving you into the garage."

I stare at her. "The garage?" I say, with my mouth full of bacon and eggs. "With the spiders?"

"There aren't
that
many spiders," she replies. "The problem is, Bobby needs to have his bed back soon. Sleeping on the sofa isn't good for his back, and we're worried his school work might suffer. You understand, don't you? We can make the garage really, really comfortable. We'll park the car on the street and you'll have the whole place to yourself."

I sigh. "I don't know, Alice. I was thinking of moving on anyway. I've got other people I need to visit on this little road trip." That's what I've told her I'm doing: taking a road trip. The truth, though, is that I'm keeping a low profile so that Benjamin and the Watchers aren't able to track me down. The last time I heard from Todd, he sounded worried, and I'm scared that something might have happened to him. I keep waiting for him to call and tell me it's all okay, but as time goes by, I'm starting to realize that maybe he isn't going to call; maybe things
aren't
going to be okay.

"Please don't think we're kicking you out," Alice says, sitting next to me. "I love having you here. Tom loves having you here. It's just that we need to re-organize things a little if this is going to be a semi-permanent arrangement, you know? Just a few little things here and there, for all our sakes."

"It's not permanent," I reply, realizing that I've perhaps relied too much on her hospitality. I have friends in California, so I can go and visit them for a while. After that, I'm sure I'll have heard from Todd, and if not... Well, maybe it'll be time to think about getting some money together and leaving the country. I can't live in limbo forever, constantly looking over my shoulder while relying on some kind of vague, ill-formed plan that's never actually going to come to fruition. "You've been brilliant," I continue, "and to be honest, I was kind of feeling bad about having to move on. I mean, it's mean of me to deprive you of my wonderful company."

"Just don't be a stranger again," she replies with a smile. "Damn it, Shelley, I didn't hear from you for more than a decade before you turned up last week. We used to be such good friends. You and me and Callum and Rob and Sophie." She pauses, and there's a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Do you ever think about the old days?" she asks. "When we were young?"

"No," I say quickly, hoping to cut the conversation short. "Did you say something about some shopping you wanted me to fetch?"

Half an hour later, having got dressed and tied my hair back, I wander out of the house and head toward the nearest store. Although Alice offered me money for the stuff I'm fetching, I told her I'd pay for it; after all, I feel I should contribute
something
to her household, given that she's letting me stay for free. Unfortunately, this approach is severely depleting my finances and I'm running out of money pretty fast. Without a miracle, I'm going to be totally broke in about two weeks, which means... Well, there were certain things I used to be willing to do for money in the bars back in Dedston, when I was younger, but I'm not sure I'd be as successful these days. When I was in my early twenties, I could easily make twenty bucks for ten minutes on my knees; now that I'm in my late thirties, I figure it'll be tougher to use my body to make ends meet. Then again, desperate times call for desperate measures, and it's clear that I need to get out of here. I'm definitely desperate.

Passing the bus station, I check the times for a few inter-state services. A plan is rapidly forming in my head: I'll stay one last night with Alice, and then I'll head to California. There, I'll get some money together and buy a ticket to somewhere like Australia or New Zealand, or maybe somewhere totally exotic like India where I can get really lost; once I'm out of the country, I figure Benjamin and the Watchers won't be interested in me. It's a shame I won't get to see Todd again, but we never really knew each other too well and I'm sure he'll be just fine without me. The most important thing is that I get the hell out of this place before I'm dragged back into that world. No matter what I might have thought earlier, the truth is that I have a choice. I'm in charge of my own destiny. No-one can tell me what to do.

"Hey," says a voice nearby. I walk on, assuming the person isn't talking to me, even though something deep down in the pit of my stomach tells me that I'm wrong. "Shelley!" the voice calls out.

I stop dead in my tracks. I recognize that voice. Turning slowly, I see Abby standing in a dark doorway. It's been almost a month since I last saw her, and she seems a little different: older, and maybe a little tougher. The way she's staring at me is more intense, as if she can see right through me. Maybe I'm over-reacting, but I feel like she looks less like Sophie and more like Patrick these days. I have this urge to run, to get as far away from her as possible, but at the same time I feel that I owe it to her to at least stay and hear what she has to say.

"Surprised to see me?" she asks, a faint smile crossing her lips. She steps closer, and I realize there's something around her neck: a large, thick metal collar that looks like something for the medieval period. "You knew I'd find you, right?" she continues. "You must have known this day was coming."

Sophie

 

Dedston, 16 years ago.

 

With smoke everywhere and the heat from the flames becoming unbearable, I crawl over to Patrick.

“I figured it out,” I say, looking into his eyes, hoping to find some hint of understanding. “And I realized that there's only one way I'm ever going to see that baby, and that's if you take me to her. So I'm not going to let you die, do you understand?”

He sits up, looking at me with a shocked expression on his face.

“Do you really think that baby is going to be safer with you gone?” I ask him. “When they've finished with you, they'll still go after it, and you'll need to be around. If you really want to do all the heroic sacrificing yourself stuff, at least wait until it'll actually work. You have to be here for that baby. He needs you”. I look into Patrick's eyes, hoping to see that he understands. “It's a he, right?” I ask. “The baby's a boy?”

Patrick stares at me and then he slowly shakes his head.

I stare back at him for a moment. “A girl?” I ask hesitantly, as my heart skips a beat.

Shelley

 

Wyoming, Today.

 

"How have you been?" I ask, walking over to Abby. I glance around, but there's no-one else on the street. This whole situation feels wrong, as if I'm stepping into a trap; at the same time, I can't help being worried about her. She's all alone in the world, and I'm probably one of the few people she feels she can trust. She doesn't have any parents, and she's at the mercy of Benjamin and his dark association. While I'd like to fool myself into thinking that she can look after herself, the truth is that she's clearly in need of help. She looks a little older than last time I saw her, but what's really caught my attention is that metal collar. She looks as if she's owned by someone; as if she's succumbed to someone's demands and surrendered her freedom in exchange for... what?

"I've been pretty busy," she says. "I've been looking for
you
, mostly. I thought it'd be easier, but I'm not very good at picking up scents and you weren't in any of the places I assumed you might be. It's almost as if you've been hiding."

"I've been visiting friends," I say, my heart racing. Part of me wants to hug her, and part of me wants to run. I'm waiting for her to give me a sign, so I know what to do, but she seems kind of blank and passive and I have no idea whether I can trust her. "Have you heard from Todd?" I ask. Damn it, I wish that Todd was around right now. He'd know what to do.

She pauses for a moment. "Yeah," she says finally. "That's kind of why I'm here. He wants to meet you, but -" She looks up and down the street, as if she thinks we're being watched. "He's worried about getting in touch. He thinks Benjamin might be bugging all the networks, so he asked me to track you down and deliver a message in the old-fashioned way. Face to face. He's worried about you, Shelley. He knows what's happening, and he thinks you're in danger."

"Where is he?" I ask. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine," she replies, but she seems a little nervous. If I didn't know better, I'd think she's lying. "He's in California," she continues, "but he can travel. He can be here tomorrow. Are you willing to meet him?"

"Yeah," I say, figuring I might as well play along, "but we have to make sure Benjamin doesn't find out. Isn't he looking for you?"

She smiles. "I can keep well ahead of him. Don't worry about that. Things have... changed since the last time I saw you. I've got faster, and smarter, and stronger. It's kind of scary, but it's good too. I think I've moved beyond the phase when I was in danger. There's nothing the Watchers can do to hurt me now."

I take a closer look at her collar. It's wide and thick, and it covers most of her neck; it also appears to have some kind of electronic system built into the metal. Overall, it looks on closer inspection to be a pretty sophisticated piece of equipment, and I have a horrible feeling that it symbolizes the fact that Abby has capitulated to some greater power.

"It's for my own protection," Abby says suddenly, with a determined glint in her eye.

"What is?" I ask.

She smiles. "The collar. Benjamin gave it to me. He was worried about me, and he said this would help me stay safe. There are still... things... looking for me. This..." She pauses as she reaches up and touches the collar. "Without this, I'd be in a lot more danger. It helps me stay free."

"Funny," I say, "it looks more like something that
stops
you being free."

"There's no point being free if you're dead," she says firmly, as if she's been rehearsing the line. I guess she must have known that I'd question her choice. "The most important thing is to stay safe. Once you're safe, then you can start thinking about being free."

"And you don't think Benjamin can track you via the collar?"

"He..." She pauses, and I see a glimmer of doubt in her eyes. "I asked him about that," she says, "and he promised me that there's no kind of tracking system. It's purely designed to give off a signal that..." She pauses again. "It's for emergencies. It stops other creatures from picking up my scent. It also records certain information about my body, so Benjamin can study it later. But he promised me that it doesn't transmit anything, and he swears he can't use it to track me. As long as I'm wearing this thing, I'm free."

"And you believe him?"

"Yes," she says, fixing me with a dark stare.

I smile. The kid's so naive, it's almost scary. With no-one around to help her, she's turned to the one person who offers her some kind of security, even if his help comes at a cost. She's twisted her logic inside out until black is white, down is up, and wrong is right.

"I know what you think," she says suddenly. "You think he's lying to me, but he's not. Benjamin's not like other people. He tells the truth. He trusts me, and I trust him. Not everyone's a liar, Shelley. Don't assume everyone's like you. Some people have morals, and ethics. Some people are good."

"What about Patrick?" I ask. "Is he -"

"Dead?" She pauses. "I don't think so. I can barely detect his life force these days, but every so often I get a hint that he's still alive. He's out there somewhere, hanging on to what remains of his existence. I don't know what he's waiting for, though. If I was him, I'd have let go by now. There's no point prolonging the inevitable." She coughs; she seems ill, as if she's got something on her chest. "That's one of the things the collar is for. To make sure he can't find me." She coughs again.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"I'm fine," she replies immediately, as if she's been expecting - and even preparing for - the question. She seems defensive, as if she's scared. I want to reach out and find a way to connect with her, but she seems so detached and distant. "I'm going to live for a thousand years. How could I not be fine?" She coughs again, and it's clear that something's wrong. She's definitely not herself. "If there was something wrong with me," she continues, "the collar would warn me. That's one of the things it does. It monitors my body and checks for signs of illness. It..."

"Keeps you free?" I say, smiling sadly.

"Exactly," she says, but I can tell that she doesn't really believe it herself. She's parroting a bunch of lines she got from someone else, probably from Benjamin himself. "Free from fear and doubt. Free from my own mistakes."

"Cool," I reply, reaching out and tugging on the collar. "If only I'd known it was so easy to be free."

"Don't touch me!" she says, pulling away. There's real anger under the surface, as if she's struggling to hold herself together. "Don't touch the collar," she adds, correcting herself. "It's not supposed to be touched. Benjamin said it can defend me from anyone who..." She pauses. "I came here for two reasons," she says after a moment. "First, to set up a meeting between you and Todd. Second, I wanted to ask you if you can tell me about my mother."

I stare at her for a moment. "Sure. What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

I smile. "And where do you want to start?"

"We should go somewhere else to talk," she says. "Is there some kind of diner or something around here? I need to sit down."

"This way," I say, leading her around the corner to a little diner that I've been visiting lately. As we approach the door, Abby gets a coughing fit, pausing to clear her throat. For a moment, I see a spot of blood on her hand, before she wipes it away and smiles nervously at me.

"I'm fine," she mutters, anticipating the question.

"I'll buy you lunch," I say, feeling as if I owe her something. She's alone in the world, and clearly ill. Whatever else happens, I have to make sure she stays out of Benjamin's reach. If she ends up back at his facility, she might be lost forever. It looks like the first job will be to get that collar off her neck, although I'm not optimistic that it'll be an easy task. It's crazy how he's managed to persuade her that the only way to be free is to become his property.

"You want a milkshake?" I ask as we head inside.

"No," she says.

"I thought you liked milkshakes," I reply as we sit in a booth. "You hungry?"

"Tell me about Sophie," she says, her eyes darting about nervously as if she's worried we're being watched.

The waitress comes over and we order a couple of sandwiches and some soda. While the waitress is writing down the order, Abby looks intensely uncomfortable; she stares down at the table and seems almost to be sweating, as if she doesn't like being close to other people. Something's seriously wrong with her, and it's clear that Benjamin has managed to really fuck with her mind. This is definitely not the same cautious, curious Abby I first met back in Callerton all those weeks ago; this girl is uncertain, confused and angry. I'm not sure if I can undo all the damage that Benjamin has done, but I have to try; after all, I can't help feeling that this is partly my fault. If I'd been around more, if I'd talked to her, maybe she would have been okay. I just thought Todd would look after her, but he seems to be out of the picture.

"What do you want to know?" I ask Abby once the waitress has left our table. "I'll tell you anything, but you need to give me specific questions." I pause, looking across the diner. "Let's hope there are no Tenderlings around this time," I add with a nervous smile. The last time we were sitting together in a restaurant, the place ended up getting ripped apart by a gang of angry little red monsters. It's only been a few weeks since that happened, but it feels like a lifetime.

"Don't worry," she replies. "They won't turn up, and if they do, I can deal with them."

I smile. There's something about her tone of voice that makes me believe her. She seems more confident than before, as if she's got a better command of her abilities. When I first met Abby back in Callerton, she seemed like a scared teenage girl who didn't understand her own body; today, she seems to be totally in control, and there's a sense of strength and power about her that makes me feel kind of nervous.

"Tell me about Sophie," she says after a moment. "I want to know everything. What she was like, what she did, what she sounded like, what she believed. Everything. Don't leave anything out, even if it doesn't seem important."

"Why now?" I ask. "Why did you track me down to ask me these things now?"

She shrugs. "I just thought, while you're still... I mean, while you still maybe want to talk to me."

"She was..." I pause. "Wait. Do you want the rose-tinted version where she was absolutely perfect, or do you want the truth?"

"The truth."

"She was flawed," I say. "She was kind and smart, and she was my friend, but she definitely had her problems. She made some bad decisions, especially after she met Patrick. I still think she could have survived if she's just stepped back and taken a more realistic view of things. Instead, she trusted Charles Nimrod and she allowed him to lead her to a dark place. I'm not criticizing, but she definitely didn't help herself." I pause for a moment. "She made a lot of dumb decisions, but she was in love with your father. People tend to make mistakes when they're blinded by love. That's one of the reasons I've always been careful to make sure I don't fall in love with anyone."

"How much did she look like me?" she asks. She's so tense, it's hard to fight the urge to reach over and hug her.

"A lot," I say. "A hell of a lot."

She pauses. "I think maybe I saw her once. Is that possible? Patrick took me to Gothos. I went out into the wilderness, and for a moment I saw this figure... She looked like me, but she was maybe a little fuller in the face. She had this sad expression, like something had gone horribly wrong. She was kneeling next to Patrick. I wanted to talk to her, but then she just disappeared right in front of my eyes."

I take a deep breath. "It might have been her," I say, feeling a cold shiver run through my body. I've seen vampires and I've seen other stuff, but ghosts are something I'd prefer not to think about. I've known too many people who've died over the years, and too many of them would probably love to come and haunt the shit out of me.

"Why wouldn't she talk to me?" Abby asks. "If she can appear to Patrick, why won't she appear to
me
?"

"I don't know," I say, "but I can promise you one thing. She hasn't appeared to me either."

"Why should she appear to you?" Abby sneers. "You were just a friend. I'm her daughter!"

"I know," I reply. "I just mean, maybe she doesn't have control over it. Maybe she can't just pick and choose who she appears to, or when."

"She should try harder," Abby says, and it's clear that she's taking this very personally. "Actually," she continues after a moment, "I have another question."

"Shoot."

"What did he say to you?" she asks.

"Who?"

"Patrick." She takes a deep breath. "Benjamin says that, according to his sources, Patrick once whispered something to you. He doesn't know what he said, but... you have to tell me. Please, Shelley? What did he say? Benjamin knows what some of the words were, but there's a part he still needs to work out. Was it something about Sophie?"

I shake my head. "I can't tell you, Abby. I can't tell anyone. It's not..." I pause, remembering that day back in Dedston when Patrick, just before he turned to stone, whispered those deathly words into my ear. It was so strange, feeling his breath against my skin as he spoke... and then he was gone. Just as Sophie asked me back then, so Abby is asking me now. Still, after all these years, I can't answer the question, not fully. There's a part of what Patrick told me that I can never reveal to anyone. I just have to wait and see if was telling the truth.

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