"What did she do?"
"Just spoke to them. I wasn't close enough to hear myself, but one of the aides said she overheard her telling each of them that it was time to wake up and—" She broke off, frowning as she looked past Jack. "What on Earth are those?"
Jack turned and saw what she meant. Leaning against the head of each bed was a three-foot tree branch with a tin can painted with odd red-and-yellow squiggles resting atop it.
Jack had seen one of those before—behind his father's hospital headboard in Florida.
Stokely grabbed the arm of a passing nurse and pointed to them.
"Where did they come from?"
The nurse looked and shrugged. "I don't know. Never saw them before. Maybe the old lady—"
"Well, get them out of here."
"Don't touch them," Jack said.
Stokely and the nurse must have sensed something in his tone because they both stopped and stared at him.
Jack thought fast, looking for a way to keep those talismans or charms or fetishes or whatever they were in the room. He didn't know what they did but he knew that one of them had been nearby when his father had come out of his coma.
"They're religious—part of my wife's religion."
Stokely said, "What religion is that?"
Good question. He picked something she'd mostly likely know nothing about.
"Wicca."
"She's a witch? Well, whatever, those things have to go. God knows what kind of bacteria they're carrying."
"They stay," Jack said, letting an edge creep into his tone. "Does this hospital make accommodations for orthodox Jews and Muslims and vegans? You'd let a Roman Catholic keep rosary beads and a Virgin Mary statue at bedside, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, but—"
"No buts. Unless you want to be responsible for the hospital being slammed with a religious discrimination suit, they stay."
Stokely stared at him. "I thought you were a different sort of person."
"I am. I'm a very different sort of person. You'll never know how different. But the religious objects stay, right?"
Stokely sighed. "Okay, okay."
Jack smiled. "Great. Now, do you have any idea where I can find the La—Gia's mother?"
"As she was leaving I heard her mention something about a baby but—"
Good Christ! Emma! Could she…?
Jack pushed past Stokely and hurried for the doors.
"Wait? Where are you—?"
And then he was out and running for the closing elevator doors. He caught them and pushed them open with such force that he frightened the old couple inside.
"Sorry."
The morgue was in another wing. One of those can't-get-there-from-here situations where he had to go down to the main floor and switch to another elevator bank.
He watched the descending numbers as they stopped on every goddamn floor.
Come on, come on, come on!
Finally the main level, a dash to the other elevators, another excruciatingly slow ride, and then he was on the morgue floor, running down the hall. He burst through the doors and headed straight for the coolers.
"Hey!" said the attendant—younger and stockier than the guy he'd met before. "Where's your pass?"
Jack ignored him. He beelined for the drawer where they were keeping Emma and pulled it open. The black bag was still zipped, the lump still settled in its center. But something new had been added: a stick with a decorated tin can at its end lay beside the bag.
Back to the lump: Was it—was that movement he just saw?
A hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.
"Hey, buddy. You can't just walk in here. You gotta have a pass."
Jack turned on him, ready to rip his heart out and feed it to him.
"This is my baby!" he gritted through his clenched teeth. He gave him a shove. "Get out of here!"
The guy staggered back, his belligerent expression morphing to fear.
"I-I'm calling security."
"Knock yourself out."
Jack turned back to the body bag and reached for the zipper.
Emma, alive. Thank you, Lady, whoever, whatever, and wherever you are.
He pulled the zipper, spread the edges, ready to take her in his arms and wrap her in the warmth of his shirt.
He froze.
Emma lay exactly as he'd left her: stiff… white… lifeless.
"No… oh, no…"
He lifted her, held her against him. This couldn't be. He'd made a deal. All three of them back… as alive and as well as before. What had happened? The Lady had been here—the stick and the can were proof of that. Why wasn't Emma alive? Why hadn't she come back?
"Sir," said a gruff voice behind him. "You're going to have to leave."
Jack ignored him and held on to Emma.
"We're sorry for your loss, sir," said another, softer voice. "But we have to escort you out of here."
Jack realized he didn't have any fight left in him. Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded. He kissed Emma's cold, fuzzy scalp, then laid her back in the bag and zipped it closed. He let his hand linger on the lump that was his baby, then turned to let them kick him out.
2
He found the Lady in the main waiting area, sitting and seemingly staring at nothing through her dark glasses. A German shepherd in a seeing-eye harness sat at her feet, its tongue lolling. It looked at Jack as he dropped into the seat next to her.
"Thank you," he said.
She nodded. "You have questions. Let's walk."
Questions was putting it mildly.
They rose and Jack waited while she unfolded her white cane.
"Are you really blind?"
She turned her face toward him so he could see his reflection in her black lenses.
"What a question."
What a non-answer, but he let it slide.
He took her arm and guided her out into the cold, bright afternoon. They sat on one of the benches near the roundabout driveway. Neither spoke for a few moments, then Jack could wait no longer.
"Emma… the baby… I guess it was expecting too much to think you could raise the dead."
"Not too much. It has been done."
"She was dead too long then?"
"Perhaps. But even if not, the Ally would not allow her return."
Jack stiffened. "But the deal was—"
"I know about your threat."
"But how could you?"
"That does not concern you. What does is that you should know that you have some value to the Ally, but you are not irreplaceable. I think it may have amused the minor molecule of its being that pays attention to this sphere to partially comply."
"Partially…"
"Yes. Allowing me to return your Gia and your Victoria to you, but not the baby, was its way of sending you a message."
"That I don't call the shots."
"Precisely."
"But the deal was for all three."
"There was no deal. Only your threat."
Jack was beginning to see, and what he saw became a crushing weight on his shoulders.
"A threat I can't follow through on now that Gia and Vicky are back."
No way he could eat a hollow-point and leave them to face the coming apocalypse without him.
She nodded. "Yes. It has negated your threat without fully acceding to your demands…"
He felt his throat tighten. "Why not fully? Why couldn't it simply free Emma too? It would've cost it nothing and… and she's just a baby."
"You are thinking emotionally about a force with no emotion." She turned her dark lenses toward him. "You had to be shown who is boss."
Utterly spent, Jack slumped on the bench and stared at the naked trees within the roundabout, the steady stream of cars dropping off and picking up patients and visitors.
He'd been outflanked, but at least his battles with the MV hadn't been for nothing. At least he had Gia and Vicky back.
"How am I going to tell Gia?"
"She will know something is wrong as soon as she awakens and realizes there is no baby in her belly. Her first hope will be that it was somehow saved, that her infant awaits her in the neonatal ICU. You must be there to comfort her when she learns it is not."