I picked up the wallet and flipped it open. There was a photograph in it. In the waning light of a natural sunset, I made out a man, a woman, and two children. Smiling. A normal, happy family. The only other contents were three dollars and a driver’s license issued to one Clayton Devine of Rapid City, South Dakota.
The velvet bag contained a wedding ring.
The badge was DOD issue. A security badge, also in the name of Clayton Devine: MAINTENANCE CREW CHIEF. The face of the man on the badge was round with delicate features, eyes that had a vague, unfocused look, mouth cocked in a slightly loopy grin.
“Level seven access,” Colleen read over my shoulder. “If that’s anything like the Air Force security ratings, this guy had a pretty high clearance somewhere.”
“Yeah, but where?”
“Somewhere near Rapid City, looks like,” she said.
I flashed momentarily to Mary’s office, to Goldie twirling the little Lakota prayer drum in his hands. Badlands, he’d said. I remembered something Clay’s golem had said, too, when I asked how he’d known about the Source.
There was a leak.
I picked up the envelope. May, it said. A month? A name? Inside was a single piece of notebook paper with writing on one side. In a barely legible scrawl someone had written, Baby, I know you won’t understand this, but I’ve gotta get out of here. It’s not you or the kids. I love you. Always love you. But something’s happening to me I don’t understand but it’s happening and I’ve got to go away. They know why it’s happening and I wish I could make them tell me what this is and what it means and if it’s good or bad. One minute I know it’s good and the next I know it’s bad just as hard. It’s power, May. But I don’t think I’m supposed to have it. If they find out I have it I don’t know what they’ll do so I’ve got to go away. I don’t even know if I should be telling you this.
The letter just ended. Was it an aborted first draft, or had he never sent it? I looked at the date scrawled across the top of the letter. A full three months before the Change.
A leak.
I put the stuff into my pocket. “Let’s get back to Legends. Without Primal protecting this place, who knows what’s going to be out tonight? We can get back to this in the morning.”
Her name was Gwen, not Tina. She was sixteen, not twelve. A child of abusive parents. They were grunters now, and gone. She didn’t even really look like Tina in the light of day.
I wasn’t devastated. Just resigned.
The city was different now. With Clay’s bubble removed, things roamed at night. Chicago would finally face the full effects of the Change.
There wasn’t much sleep for anyone that first night. Most of it we spent realizing our losses and gains, sorting things out and trying to make coherent plans. Papa Sky showed up at Legends about eight o’clock, according to my wind-up Timex. We owed him a tremendous debt, him and his secret friend. Colleen and I cornered him and asked if we couldn’t meet Mr. Enigma now, to thank him personally for his help.
Papa Sky just laughed. “No sir, Mr. Cal, I don’t think he’d’ve let you near him on any account. Not yet, anyhow.”
“What do you mean, not yet?” asked Colleen.
“Well, the way he put it to me, he’s got some thinking to do before that happens.”
I was puzzled and didn’t bother to hide it. “Why should he have to do any thinking about meeting us?”
Papa Sky shrugged.
Colleen chuffed in frustration. “Well, if he won’t see us, will you at least tell him thanks? For all of us.” She waved an arm at the strange rabble in the room.
“I don’t think thanks means diddly to him. I don’t think he helped because he was lookin’ for thanks.”
“What then?” I asked, hoping maybe the answer would shed some light on our mysterious benefactor.
“I asked him that myself, son. He said you and him had something in common. And before you ask-no, he didn’t say what. And before you ask-I can’t ask him, ’cause he’s gone.”
Colleen and I exchanged glances. “Gone? Gone where?”
“Moved on. I think he’s looking for something, too. Maybe that’s what you have in common. Hope he finds it, whatever it is. Hope both of you find it.”
So much for tidy conclusions. Only on TV does the masked man come out of the shadows and reveal himself to be your long-lost cousin, or the twin brother you never knew you had, or Batman. TV was dead, maybe forever. I was disappointed, but not surprised that its conventions didn’t operate in the real world, if they ever had.
I also wasn’t surprised when Enid pulled me into the dim little hallway behind Jelly’s bar to tell me he wanted to take the flares back to the Preserve. The pain of losing Magritte was etched on his face. His mouth, for which laughing had seemed the most normal state, drew downward at the corners. I was amazed he was still on his feet, still jamming the Source.
“I’m sorry, Cal,” he told me. “It’s just something I feel I gotta do. For Maggie. For the other ones like her. And … for the folks I screwed up back there. Maybe there’s something I can do for them, too, now that I’m clear. I know that don’t make sense, but seems like I ought to try.”
I understood. In fact, it seemed like the most logical, practical, humane thing to do. “It makes sense,” I said. “And I know it’ll make Mary happy.”
“You all could come back with us.”
I shook my head. “I can’t. But, hey, you ask the others. Maybe they’ll want to go.”
He gave me a weird look. “You crazy? You don’t believe that. They’d never leave you. Not in a million years.”
I knew that. Maybe it was the only thing I knew with any certainty, when it came right down to it.
“Something else I gotta tell you before I crash and burn.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes. Even in the feeble light that filtered through from the bar, I could see they were bloodshot and red-rimmed from tears and exhaustion. “That guy Clay, the guy on that badge you showed me? I met him before. Just didn’t recognize him. He was one of the maintenance guys at Primal. I seen him working around there when I done some late session work. Funny about all that, ’cause I’d swear the guy wore makeup, even back then.”
Clayton Devine had twisted before the Change. And come here. From Rapid City, South Dakota. Which meant, what? That the Change had happened there first? By how long? And why? I tried to wrap my mind around that and failed. It made me recognize how close to crashing and burning I was.
“Enid, you’re going to have to sleep sometime. Who’s going to shield the flares when you do?”
“I am.” Venus appeared in the hallway behind Enid and moved into our puddle of light.
I swear all I could do was stare at her. “You’re a musician?” I meant “a tweaked musician” but didn’t want to say it.
“I was. Vocals, keyboards. My … Charlie played horn. We’d just signed with Primal Records when everything changed. We got stuck here on the inside. When Charlie… when I saw what happened to Charlie, the music in me just dried up. Just stopped. I haven’t written or sung a note since the Change.”
Enid shook his head. “God Almighty, I only been holding it in since Wisconsin. I can’t even imagine.”
“You’re Vanessa Gwinn,” I guessed.
She nodded.
“She’s going back to the Preserve with us,” Enid told me, then hesitated. “Look, Cal. I owe you…”
I shook my head.
“Yes,” he said, “I do. I’m free because of you guys. After I get them all home safe, I’ll come find you. Catch up.”
I started to answer him, realized I didn’t know what to say. I wanted him to find us, but how likely was that, really? I nodded, mute.
He put a hand to my shoulder. “Take your own advice. Man’s gotta sleep sometime. That includes you.”
Man’s gotta sleep. I was terrified of sleep. How badly I needed it, I only realized when I sat down to consider where I would sleep. Most certainly not in the room I’d slept in last night, nor in that company. The thought of sharing a room with Doc and Colleen made me feel like a teen who’s terrified of what he might catch his parents doing. What did they call that?