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The two watched dispassionately for a few minutes as the bodies were bagged and loaded into a waiting vehicle.

Then they were gone.

50

Walter and Bell sat together in the same featureless interrogation room where Walter had first met the late Dick Latimer. Nina had been taken elsewhere.

They were both shaken and exhausted—Walter even more so, because he couldn’t get that dying boy out of his mind. He told Bell everything, every detail of his terrible vision, and how that powerful emotion and helped him beat the killer.

“The future isn’t set in stone, Walt,” Bell said. “Linda’s grandma and all the other passengers on that bus are alive today because of you. You saw her die, but she didn’t. You changed the future. You saved her life— you saved all of their lives.” He put his hand on Walter’s shoulder. “Don’t you see? Just because you saw your son die, doesn’t mean you can’t still save him.”

“My God,” Walter replied. “I hope you’re right.”

The door opened and, to Walter’s surprise, Iverson walked into the room.

“Gentlemen,” he said. “I had to pull more strings than the Howdy Doody Show, but you’re free to go. However, I’m afraid you’re on the map now. We’ll be keeping a close eye on both of you.” He gave them a wry smile. “Who knows, we might even offer you a job someday.”

Walter and Bell stood, and Bell reached out to shake Iverson’s hand.

“What’s going to happen to you, now that Latimer is out of the way?” Bell asked.

“Well,” Iverson replied, “it looks like I get my paranormal investigative unit after all. Although it will probably take years to develop it into a workable division. It’s not like we have a precedent to follow.”

“Good luck with it,” Bell said.

“But Agent Iverson,” Walter said, “there were several other students involved in this experiment. A young woman named May. Is she... are they okay?”

Iverson’s expression turned grim.

“They didn’t make it,” he said.

Walter staggered as if punched in the stomach. If Bell hadn’t been there beside him, he might have collapsed to his knees.

“All of them...?” he asked.

“Strangest thing,” Iverson said. “The bodies were entirely unmarked, with no sign of any injury or trauma. They were just dead, as if their lives had been switched off like light bulbs.”

“Did...” Walter was reeling, devastated. “Did we kill them?”

“No way of knowing, really,” Iverson said. “I’m sorry.”

Walter thought of smart, charming May, picturing her gap-toothed smile as she took a purple Necco wafer from the roll he had offered.

Just moments earlier he had felt so shell-shocked and numb, he was sure there was no way he could feel more grief. Yet there it was, fresh and stinging like a brand new paper cut.

He barely heard Iverson’s goodbye, barely reacted when Nina was released with them, and said nothing on the whole ride back to her house. It was as if he was under water, everything icy cold and distant.

They had survived, and they had beaten the killer. But at what cost?

51

Nina unlocked the door to her house, almost unable to believe that it still existed. That her normal day-to-day life was still there, just the way she had left it. Food in the fridge. Bills to be paid. Her half-read book on her bedside table, waiting to be finished.

The world was going on with its mundane business as if none of this had ever happened.

But it had, and Nina knew in her heart she had reached a critical crossroad. That the life she might have had if she had just met Bell that one time, and then never seen him again, was no longer an option. That whatever complex endeavor she might be engaged in with Bell was well on its way to becoming a reality.

Her two companions followed her in like a couple of refugee war orphans, devastated by everything they’d been through. When the phone rang, they both nearly jumped out of their skins.

Nina grabbed the receiver of the wall-mounted phone in the front hallway.

“Hello?” she said, tucking the receiver between her shoulder and ear as she took off her coat.

“Hi, Nina,” a familiar voice said. “It’s Abby!”

“Hey, Abby,” Nina replied, stretching the spiral phone cord as far as it could go, to hang her coat on the hook by the door. “Is everything okay?”

“Sure, fine, no problem,” she said. “I just wanted to thank you for letting me borrow your rental car. Roscoe is here, and I bet you’ll never believe what happened to him.”

“I bet I will,” Nina said.

“He got arrested. By spooks!” she said. “The FBI, who totally hassled him for no reason, and kept him for twelve whole hours. The fascists!”

“Really?” Nina said. “Imagine that!”

“He says they asked him a bunch of questions about your two friends,” Abby continued. “But he didn’t tell them a thing, did you honey? Anyway, it’s all fine now.”

“Glad to hear it,” Nina said. “Everyone else in the band okay?”

“They nailed Chick on possession,” she said. “But he’ll probably just cop a plea, like last time. Everybody else is totally fine.” Nina could hear her taking a big hit off a joint. “But hey, listen. Me and Roscoe, we’ve decided to stay down here for a little while, just to take it easy and find our spiritual centers after everything that happened. We’ll turn in the rental car and pay off the rest of what you owe, okay?”

“That’s fine, kiddo,” Nina said. “Thanks.”

“What about your two friends?” Abby asked. “Are they okay?”

Nina looked over at Bell and Walter, who were standing together as if they were using every drop of their combined willpower not to fall flat on their faces. At that moment, she had no idea how to answer Abby’s question.

“They’re fine,” she said, for lack of a better response.

“Okay, then,” Abby said. “I better go. Mom’s making coconut cake.”

She hung up before Nina could reply.

Nina looked down at the receiver, and then put it back on the cradle. Although it didn’t ameliorate the loss of all those innocent students from the Institute, it did make her feel just a little bit better to know that Abby, her baby, and all of the band members had escaped the madness unharmed.

Walter and Bell, on the other hand, looked far from unharmed.

“Come on, boys,” she said, leading them into the living room.

Cat-Mandu, Roscoe’s Himalayan cat, jumped down off the couch to greet Walter, demanding attention as if he were the center of his own little feline universe. Walter smiled and crouched down to pet him, but Nina could still see tension in his face.

Something was bothering him and not just the events of the day.

“Belly,” Walter finally said, standing back up again and turning to Bell. “We have to destroy the formula for the acid. We must never, ever make that blend again.”

“What?” Bell frowned. “That’s insane! It’s the single most significant breakthrough we’ve ever had! We can’t just abandon such an important line of research. We need to study it. Refine it.”

Walter shook his head vigorously.

“It’s far too dangerous,” he said. “The risks far outweigh the benefits.”

“In it’s current state, yes,” Bell argued. “And I agree that further use of adult subjects would be ill advised. But with a few minor adjustments, we might be able to use it on subjects whose minds are more flexible and open. Like children.”

“Have you lost all sense of ethics and decency?” Walter said. “We can’t experiment on unsuspecting children! No, I insist that you destroy the formula immediately, and that we make a pact never to recreate it. The world just isn’t ready for the kind of uncontrollable psychic power that it can unleash.”