“Next week is Family Weekend,” Alice told him. “They’re having a picnic on Saturday, with hot dogs and hamburgers. My teacher said we’re going to do silly sports, like run a race with your leg tied to your mom or dad’s, or while you’re carrying an egg in a soup spoon.” Her voice grew small, fragile. “Will you come?”
He smiled. “Of course I will.”
“Maybe you could bring Dani with you?” She phrased this as a question, left it hanging hopefully in the air.
His smile faltered. “I don’t think so.”
He hadn’t seen Dani since Pikeville, hadn’t talked to her, hadn’t as much as exchanged an email or text message. He’d gone as far as trying to look up her home phone number online, finding a listing for Antonio Fernando Santiago Santoro, with a spouse listed as Daniela E. He’d wondered what the E stood for, and felt a lingering melancholy to realize he’d probably never see or speak to her again to find out. He’d dialed the number a thousand times, but hung up before it would connect. The one time he’d let it ring through, a man had answered, presumably Tonio. Andrew had promptly hung up, abashed.
She’s married, he kept telling himself. Let her go. Move on with your life, for God’s sake. She’s married.
“But I’ll be there,” Andrew promised Alice. “Trust me, after all the practice I’ve had lately hopping around on one foot, we’re a shoo-in for first place in the three-legged race.”
After hanging up the phone, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Like Alice, since leaving Kentucky, he, too, had suffered some moments of definitive night terror, with visions of Prendick’s outstretched tentacles, the sick, squelching sounds as they’d moved so fresh in his mind, he’d swear he could still hear them, see them, smell them in the apartment. He’d been spending more nights on the couch than in his bed since his homecoming from the hospital. He couldn’t explain why, but thought maybe being closer to the front door—an avenue of escape—made him feel better.
He looked down at the iPhone in his hand, studying that grim little line of missing or mutilated bodies on the screen. The longer he studied it, the more troubled he felt. West Virginia. Maryland. Next up, Pennsylvania, he thought with an uneasy shiver and a glance at the nearest window, the imposing darkness that lay beyond. It’s like something following a trail. Hunting, almost. Working its way north. Working its way toward me.
At the sound of a soft tapping sound from the front door to the apartment, he jerked in surprise, then had to laugh at himself. “Jesus,” he muttered, because he had himself jumping at shadows.
Like Prendick’s going to slash his way through the forests to track me down, then bother to be polite and knock.
With a groan, he lugged his ski boot down off the coffee table and hobbled to his feet. Truth be told, he felt ungangly in the walking cast, no matter how much therapy he had to adjust to it. He felt like Frankenstein’s monster as he lurched along. Pausing at the threshold, he leaned forward and peered through the security peep hole.
“Dani?” he gasped, opening the door, not convinced he wasn’t seeing things. But there she was, standing at his door even though New York City was a good three hundred miles away from Johnstown, a four-hour drive at least. Dressed in a simple cream-colored sweater with a tan leather jacket shrugged atop and her lips unfurling in a hesitant smile, she was every bit as beautiful as he remembered.
“I’m getting a divorce,” she said.
That was it. No greeting, no ‘hey, partner,’ or ‘how’s it going’ or ‘nice to see you again, Andrew. ’ He blinked at her stupidly. “What?”
Dani took a deep breath as if mustering resolve, then said, “The night we met, the night you crashed, I’d driven out to Powell’s Creek. That was the only town with a post office near the base. I’d written Tonio a letter, told him I want a divorce. I’d sealed it in an envelope with my wedding ring inside. I was on my way back when we almost hit each other.”
Andrew stared at her, wordless. Her eyes had glossed over with tears and she swatted at them as they fell, smearing them against her cheeks, even as she laughed. “I keep thinking about what you said. How everything happens for a reason, and how I was yours. I think you’re mine, too, Andrew. My reason.”
Without another word, she stood on her tiptoes, clasped his face between her hands and kissed him fiercely. He drew her against him, deepening the kiss, feeling her relax against him, her mouth opening in warm invitation. Her breasts pressed into his chest, her fingers splayed through his hair and for a long moment, they stood that way, tangled together in the corridor outside of his apartment.
“So are you going to invite me in now?” Dani asked, her voice low and breathless when at last, they drew apart. “Or do you want me to rip your clothes off and do you right here in the hall?”
Later that night, she jerked beside him with a frightened cry, her body wrenching so violently, so rigidly, at first he thought she was having a seizure. “No!”
Startled awake, he reached for her. “Dani?”
They had fallen asleep spooned together in his bed, the curves of her buttocks nestled in near-perfect complement with his groin and his arm draped across the slim indentation of her waist. Bleary and bewildered now, he started to sit up, but she struck at him, her hands balled into fists, her hair hanging in her face in a dark, disheveled tangle.
“No,” she cried, her voice shrill with panicked terror. “No, no, get them off, get them off, get them off me!”
“Dani.” He caught her by the wrists, and she struggled with him, wailing in frightened protest. “Dani!” Grasping her by the shoulders, he shook gave her a firm, forceful shake. “Dani, wake up.”
At once, she fell still and blinked at him, her dark eyes round and glistening in the dim light coming through his window. A light tremor worked its way through her slender body, and when she spoke, her voice came out quavering. “Andrew?”
She looked around, pushing her hair back behind her ears, getting her bearings. Slowly but surely, the frightened tension drained from her body, but the trembling remained, growing stronger, more insistent.
“It’s alright,” he said, touching her face gently to draw her gaze.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and when he drew her into his arms, she crumpled against him and burst into tears. “I…oh, God, I thought I was back in the lab, back when they had me. When Langley had grabbed me and those things were wrapped all around me…those horrible things coming out of his body.”
“It’s alright,” he said, holding her, rocking back and forth and kissing her head through her hair. “I promise, Dani. It’s over now.”
At length, her sobs subsided and he felt her relax. Her shudders waned to trembles, then dissipated altogether, but still, Andrew rocked her in his arms. Again he thought of the map he’d made, the line that seemed to be working its way north, heading with a deadly, brutal accuracy.
West Virginia, then Maryland, then on to Pennsylvania, he thought again. New York comes next, then east to Massachusetts. Hunting us down, one by one. First me, then Dani. Then Alice.
The ones who had stopped Prendick. The ones who had escaped.
He leaned down and kissed Dani’s brow. “It’s alright,” he whispered again. “It’s over now.” In his mind, he added: God, please, let it be over.