Darkness Follows Page 30

  Gunnison’s intimate tone seemed to imply that he and Mac had discussed this often. The whole thing had felt badly off-kilter. Yet the next moment, Gunnison had asked Mac for a report and as they talked had been completely rational.

  The memory flitted past. Kay sighed and fiddled with the file she had rested on her lap.

  “Oh, I’m fine,” she said in answer to Mac’s question. “Just awfully busy, with the Day of Fire coming up.” She looked up anxiously. “You’ll still be there, won’t you? You and Sephy?”

  “Sure, we’ll be there,” said Mac, injecting a jolly note into his voice.

  Johnny was taking most of the high-level Zodiac staff along. They were all catching a special train out to Washington the next morning – though the event itself was still shrouded in secrecy. Madeline Bark’s plans had been shared with no one.

  “And Collis?” Kay asked.

  “Him too.”

  “Good,” she said. “Well…good about you and Sephy anyway.” She frowned. “Mac, I know he’s a friend of yours, but are you totally sure we can trust Collis Reed?”

  Mac raised an eyebrow, hiding his flash of alarm. He settled back in his chair. “Yeah, I think so. Guy’s never failed us yet. Why? What’s up?”

  Kay wrinkled her nose. “He just rubs me the wrong way, I guess. Forget it – here’s why I came in.” She opened the file and pulled out some papers.

  “These are the names,” she said.

  “What names?”

  “For the Day of Fire.” At Mac’s questioning look, she said, “Goodness, hasn’t Johnny told you? Right after the signing, we’re going to begin the Harmonic process and purge any Discordants present. We’ve been checking Appalachian charts for weeks now.”

  Mac had always known Gunnison would break his promise to go lightly on Appalachia. They were going to start right there in the stadium though? This on top of the bombs made it difficult to keep his easy smile in place.

  “Hey, great idea.” He chuckled. “So that’s why you’ve been working my girl so hard.”

  Kay shook her head impatiently. “No, no, I meant me and Johnny. Look, this is a complete list of the attendees, with the Discordants marked. Am I missing anyone we should be concerned about?”

  “I’m no astrology expert, Kay.”

  “No, but you’re a people expert.” She gave him a sweet smile. “So tell me if there’s anyone else who should be taken, and I’ll revisit their chart.”

  Several thousand names, including his and Sephy’s; hundreds were marked. So Johnny was still making a big show of the signing: no one had been sure whether he would. There couldn’t be that many venues that would hold so many people, even in Washington.

  Once this information would have been vital.

  Mac handed the list back, hiding his weary loathing of Kay. “I think you got them all. Very thorough job.”

  She dimpled. “Well, I’ve certainly worked hard. We have to make sure that bringing the three countries together again is under the most Harmonic conditions possible.”

  “Johnny seems much more cheerful these days,” said Mac after a pause. “I guess Vancour’s death did the trick, all right.” It was the first chance he’d had to mention it casually to Kay since he’d learned about her lie.

  Her relief seemed unfeigned. “Yes, it was lucky they found her.” She giggled. “Tell you a secret,” she whispered. “I didn’t think they were going to. I went up there to get rid of the camp director and put a new one in place who’d tell Johnny whatever I wanted.”

  “But then they found her anyway?”

  Kay nodded. “I got the call after I had to leave a factory I was visiting.” Mac saw anger, as if at some memory, flicker in her eyes and then she smiled again. “Best news of my life,” she said. “Seeing the photos just made it even better.”

  She reached for the lists in Mac’s hand. As she opened the file and put them away, he caught a glimpse of another sheet of paper tucked inside.

  And of a name written on it.

  “You’ve got to get the kid out,” Mac told Collis in an undertone. “Tonight.” They were walking with Sephy through Harmony Park in the twilight, her arm tucked through Mac’s.

  Collis’s face was as pale as his white shirt. “But all you saw was the name ‘Halcyon’, right? Not ‘Vancour’?”

  “Just Halcyon.”

  They fell silent as a woman walking a basset hound passed by, the dog’s ears long and drooping. None of them spoke again until they came to a bench beside a duck pond. They sat together; Sephy wrapped her trench coat tightly around her.

  Collis looked panicked. He bumped a fist against his lips. “Mac, I swear, I destroyed all the paperwork with his name on it – he shouldn’t even exist any more.”

  “And Halcyon’s a pretty common name,” ventured Sephy. “Maybe…”

  “No,” said Mac. “Get him out, Collis. I won’t have that kid’s death on my conscience.”

  He felt Sephy press close to him; she squeezed his hand wordlessly.

  Collis winced and nodded. “Where?”

  “Nova Scotia, if it’s up to me. Let him join his mother.”

  “Mac, you can’t do that to him! He’s desperate to help. Look, what about Appalachia?”

  “It’s about to fall, remember?”

  “We could get him new papers again though – he could work with the Resistance there when we start to build it up. Come Saturday, they’re going to need everyone they can get.”

  “Fine,” said Mac finally. “I’ll leave that up to you. But he’s out of this country before tomorrow.”

  “He will be.” Collis hesitated, looking apprehensive. “What about me? Do you want me to go too?”

  Mac let out a breath. “No, you’ve got to stay. Buddy, I don’t know what’s going on, but she doesn’t seem to like you – so you’ve got to be careful as hell. But if you leave now, she’ll know.”

  Collis’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to,” he said. “I can do a lot more good right where I am. It’s just Hal. I’m all he’s got, now that…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening. He looked down, fiddling with the brim of his fedora.

  The news of Vancour’s sudden departure hadn’t gone down well. Mac had done what she’d asked. Someone else with Class A papers had been leaving for Appalachia not an hour after her request and he’d gotten her a ride with them – given her a little money.

  She hadn’t told him what her plans were, and he hadn’t asked.

  Collis stared at the ducks. He slapped his hat against his opposite hand. “I still can’t believe you just let her go,” he muttered.

  Mac thought he’d kill for a soft bed with Sephy in it and no one else within a thousand miles. With an effort, he kept his voice level: “What exactly was I supposed to do? Come on, tell me, pal. Was I supposed to restrain her? Tell her no, I wouldn’t help?”

  “Hal will be okay,” put in Sephy softly, leaning over to touch Collis’s arm. “Look, I’ve got some friends in Appalachia; you can send him there. Then in a few months, when things calm down, maybe you can go to him.”

  Collis had his elbows on his knees, his hands buried in his hair. “Yeah,” he said finally. “Thanks, Sephy. That sounds like the best thing.”

  He straightened, visibly trying to collect himself. “So, Mac…you think Kay was lied to about Amity being recaptured?”

  Mac nodded. “Looks like it. Whoever’s in charge up there now was probably too terrified to admit they couldn’t find her. Easy to get photos in those places of bodies with faces too messed up to identify.”

  Collis looked down at his hands. “And…Amity really didn’t say where she was going?”

  “I’d tell you, pal. I promise.”

  The fedora twisted in Collis’s grasp. “She still has a hard time even walking, Mac. Everything she’s been through…oh, hell, I should have known she might go off and do something crazy. I should have—”

  “Hey.” Mac gripped Collis’s shoulder. �
��Knock it off. This isn’t your fault, buddy. She’s a grown woman. For all you know, she just wanted some time alone.”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Collis said hoarsely. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t shake the feeling that she’s going to go and get herself killed somehow. And that there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it.”

  None of them spoke. Mac found himself chilled by Collis’s words, and was relieved that Vancour didn’t know about Gunnison’s belief in their supposed karmic connection. What the man might do if he realized the dark mirror was still alive and “taunting” him was anyone’s guess.

  Finally Collis cleared his throat and stood up.

  “All right,” he said. “I’d better go get Hal and hook him up with someone who has Class As. It’s a long drive.”

  He held his hand out to Mac; they shook.

  “Listen, thanks a million, Mac,” Collis said quietly. “I’ll make sure Hal stays safe. I’ll see you in the morning when we catch the train.”

  Sephy had been scribbling down her friends’ address. She got up and pressed it into Collis’s hand and then hugged him. Collis held onto her tightly. Then with a crooked smile, he turned and started away down the path.

  Sephy sank back onto the bench. “He just wrings my heart,” she murmured.

  She pressed against Mac; he drew her close. In the pond, a duck came in for a landing, flapping and ungainly.

  Mac gazed at it. When Vancour and Manfred had shown up with their message two days before, for a moment he’d actually had hope. Perhaps Rodriguez had gotten hold of the new, classified venue plans, his brain had babbled; perhaps the assassination of Gunnison and Cain could miraculously go ahead after all.

  But why should the Resistance get a break for a change? In less than forty-eight hours the man would take over Appalachia and that would be that: the entire continent would go dark, locked away from the rest of the world.

  And judging from those photographs that Vancour and Manfred had brought, soon the rest of the world would fall too.

  If Mac hadn’t seen the evidence, he wouldn’t have believed it even of Johnny Gun. Hell, he wouldn’t have believed it of anyone of their era. They’d all grown up with the harrowing stories of the Cataclysm. They were all supposed to be better, more enlightened, than this.

  Remembering the sight of Vancour and Manfred – the burn scar that dominated the guy’s face, the terrible thinness of them both, the haunted looks in their eyes – Mac grimaced inwardly. Yes, so much more enlightened. What a joke that he should even have felt any surprise.

  “What do you think Kay Pierce wanted?” Sephy asked finally. “She didn’t really need your help with the names, did she?”

  Mac shook his head. “To gloat? See whose side I’m on? Or maybe she just likes me and wanted to talk.”

  Sephy stroked his chest. “Hope so. I hope she’s madly in love with you, so she’ll help to keep you safe. Take her more cookies.”

  Mac chuckled despite himself. Sephy sighed and slipped her arm around his waist. “Day of Fire,” she murmured, and shivered. “I wish we didn’t have to be there.”

  “Me too.” He gently rubbed her arm, feeling her warmth, the way her body seemed made to fit against his. “Hey,” he whispered after a pause. “How about we go home and block out the world for a while?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  When I was a little girl my father sometimes gave flying exhibitions at summer fairs. The big one each year was Monument Valley. It was held in August, in the height of summer, and Hal and I would start getting excited weeks ahead of time.

  When it finally came, it was like a birthday and fireworks and the last day of school all rolled into one. The year that I was eleven, I bounced out of bed that morning and raced to my window. A day of blue and gold greeted me, with just a few white clouds drifting high overhead.

  I propped my elbows on the sill, drinking it in. Hal ran in wearing his Firedove pyjamas, his dark hair sticking up. He joined me at the window and we grinned at each other.

  “Perfect flying weather!” He gave a little whoop.

  I nudged him. “You just wait. Dad’s going to set that sky on fire!”

  The fair didn’t start until ten in the morning, and Dad’s flying exhibition wasn’t until two. We got to the fair right at ten, of course. Ma always looked forward to it too, though I could never understand why she wore such a fiddly dress for a day devoted to fairground rides and prize pigs and toffee apples. I wore shorts and a cotton shirt, and rebelled when she tried to force me into a dress too.

  “Amity, you’re getting older now,” she said as she drove us there in our big black Fraser with its long, curved lines. She shifted gears and winced at the grinding noise she produced: Ma hated driving. “You can’t be a tomboy for ever.”

  Collie smirked at me. “Bet she is.”

  “Yeah, I bet she is,” echoed Hal.

  “I bet I am too,” I said, irritated. “Who wants to be a girly-girl? Ugh.”

  “You’ll feel differently someday,” said Ma.

  Some years Collie didn’t get to go with us. Some years his awful father chose that day, of all days, to notice that Collie wasn’t around much and make him stay at home. But that morning he’d snuck out early and was at our house before Ma even started cooking breakfast. She made pancakes and Collie had had twelve and I’d had thirteen, not to be outdone. I wished now that I hadn’t, though I’d die before admitting it.

  Dad had been holed up in the barn with his Firedove all morning. He’d declared it off limits and Hal, Collie and I had been fizzing with excitement for hours, trying to think what he was up to. He’d come in for a cup of coffee and had feigned nonchalance when we peppered him with questions.

  “Why, I just want some peace and quiet, that’s all,” he said, leaning oh-so-casually against the kitchen counter. “It’s not easy to get some peace and quiet with you three savages rampaging around.”

  Recalling the glint that had been in his brown eyes, I could hardly think of anything else as Collie, Hal and I wandered the dusty fair, breathing in its heady scents of hot dogs and griddle cakes. Ma had given us some money and gone off to look at the flower arranging, so we did the strong-man test, swinging the mallet to make a bell ring – Collie beat me, even though I did it three times and practically ruptured myself – and then we teamed up together on the shooting range and won Hal a big purple stuffed bear. He didn’t really like stuffed toys much, but he was proud of that one because Collie and I had gotten it for him. He named it Lewis and lugged it around all day, its fur getting dustier and dustier.

  Finally it was almost two o’clock. We joined the flow of the crowd, all drifting towards the exhibition fields: kids in shorts and sandals eating cotton candy; women in brightly-printed sundresses; farmers wearing overalls and straw hats, and other men hatless, in open-necked shirts. Everyone seemed loose, happy. There was an excited buzz in the air and my dad was the cause of it.

  I gave a skip as I walked. Collie grinned at me, his hands stuck in his back pockets. By this time of summer, his hair was always bleached pale blonde. Today his eyes were as blue as the piece of sky reflected in our swimming hole.

  “Tru’s gonna be great,” he said.

  “Better than great,” I said.

  When we got to the fields, Collie, Hal and I struggled our way down to the roped-off front area, where I could already see Ma standing with some of her friends. She turned and saw us and waved us over. She looked smiling and pretty, her dark hair gleaming in the sun.

  “Excuse me, my dad’s flying – excuse me, my dad’s the pilot,” I said seriously as the three of us moved through the crowd. People let us pass. I heard someone whisper, “Her father must be Truce Vancour,” and I thought I’d burst with pride.

  “He’s my father too!” protested Hal.

  “Well, of course, stupid.” Then I felt bad because Collie had gone quiet and I nudged him. “He’s practically your dad too,” I told him. “You know that. It’s
not even pretend.” And he grinned at me gratefully.

  We ducked under the ropes into the special area where Ma stood with a few dozen others. “Where have you been?” she chided, but not as if she really minded. “Here, get in front where you can see,” she said – which didn’t make much sense because anyone could see what was happening up in the sky, but I wanted to be right up front in case Dad could see us, so I didn’t argue. We stood in front of her and she drew Hal up against her and looped her arms around my and Collie’s shoulders.

  “Now, I recognize Amity and Halcyon. Is that one of the Reed boys?” said the woman next to her with a sickly-sweet smile that made me want to kick her.

  “Yes, this is our other son, Collis,” said Ma just as sweetly, and I could see the woman’s confusion – and that Collie, who’d started out looking embarrassed, was stranding straighter now, trying not to laugh.

  I elbowed him. “See?” I whispered. Sometimes my mother was perfect, just perfect.

  A ripple went through the crowd as we all heard it: the low, throaty roar of an approaching Firedove.

  Ma bent her head down and whispered, “There might be a surprise.”

  My father’s plane came into view. At first I didn’t recognize it. Firedoves were blue and grey, with red circles on the wings. This plane was as white as a real dove, with ribbons streaming from its wings and tail. My father brought it low, passing right by the crowd, and I caught my breath, my eyes abruptly widening.

  ROSE was painted on the nose of the plane in bright pink. AMITY was across the fuselage in purple, my favourite colour. My father did a one-winged turn, bringing the plane smartly around. On the other side was a red HALCYON and COLLIS in blue.

  Dad went into a victory roll, spinning the plane around its propeller. Our names whirled in a rainbow, the ribbons whipping wildly. The crowd cheered. Ma laughed, standing on her tiptoes and waving at Dad. Hal was cavorting in place, shouting, “Amity, Collie, our names! Ma, he painted our names!”