At the corner of Oak Street a building had collapsed. There were scores of people there digging with their bare hands, and Jim felt a tug of guilt as he and Trix sought a way around the destruction.
“Another one,” she said. “Keeping pace with us.”
“I saw it,” Jim confirmed. They paused, waiting for a convoy of police cars and ambulances to pass by. One of the cops, eyes haunted, a smear of dirt across his face, looked out at Jim. “Hid away in a doorway when we turned around. So why not just flit away like they did back at O’Brien’s?”
“They don’t mind us seeing them.”
“Yeah.” And if they could just step into and out of this world, why not just reappear at Sally Bennet’s?
It was a few minutes later when Jim realized where they were. Just a few streets north of here-in his Boston, at least-was Jenny’s parents’ restaurant. They’d been running the seafood-and-steak place for thirteen years, building a steady reputation for quality food and a comfortable, casual atmosphere. Jim and Jenny had eaten there frequently, and not only because the food was usually free. It was good. “Trix, we’re close to the restaurant.”
“You’re thinking we should both go there?”
“No, we can’t let Sally down. But I have an idea. You won’t like it.”
Trix closed her eyes, and he realized how grubby she was. Her pink hair had lost much of its color to the dust. Her clothing was faded, her skin pale, and it was as if the earthquake was doing its best to erase her from the world. That was a concept he did not like. She sighed. “We’re going to split up,” she said.
“It won’t be for long.”
“We should go straight to Sally,” Trix said, but he could already hear the defeat in her voice.
“It’s a distraction. A good idea. Their restaurant is half a mile from here, if that. Sally Bennet’s address is a handful of blocks away. We go into a building somewhere, hide you away, I leave and race toward the restaurant, the wraith-things follow… and you go and warn the Oracle.”
“Is your secret name Jason Bourne?”
He smiled again, and this time he meant it. Even in adversity Trix could quip. He wondered where she found the energy, and then thought perhaps such an attitude gave it to her. “I’ll meet you there in an hour,” he said.
“Unless you find them?” And in Trix’s eyes he saw fear. She was afraid that she would lose him, run off into this altered, shattered Boston and never see him again.
“Trix, I promise. If I find them, I’ll pile them into a car and drive there for you. This is all…” He looked around at the damaged city, smelled fire and death on the air, and somewhere in the distance a man was shouting an unidentifiable word again and again. Perhaps it was a name, or maybe an exhalation of pure rage. “It’s beyond us,” he said. “It’s catastrophic. But Jenny and Holly are still my whole world.”
“I know,” she said, but he could still see her disappointment.
“Hey, you’re strong.”
“Yeah. I don’t feel like it.” She smiled and ruffled her hair, displacing a cloud of dust and brightening the color a few shades.
“When we get back, keep the pink hair.”
“I’m thinking of going for matching collar and cuffs, actually.”
“ Too much information.” He took her arm and they walked along the street, passing through a group of people heading in the opposite direction.
“You seen home?” one of the men asked them. “You seen home? ’Cause it’s gone far as I’m concerned.”
“Sorry,” Trix said.
“Yeah, well…” The man looked Trix up and down, then walked on with the group.
“In here,” Jim said. As he dragged open the warped, glassless shop door, he glanced over his shoulder, examining the street behind them, trying not to make it so obvious that he was searching for the wraiths. He saw none, but that meant little. He could feel their eyes on him. He’d heard that some people had a sixth sense that told them when they were being watched, but this was the first time he’d experienced it himself. It turned his skin cold.
As he closed the door, Trix was already rooting around the shop. It sold candles and holders, their smell heavy and sickening on the air even though the window had been smashed. “Here,” she said, offering something to him.
He grabbed it, a three-foot-long metal candle stand with a spiked cup on top. Designed to hold a large candle, it would make a formidable weapon.
“Better than a lamp,” she said, and in the darkness he heard her nervous giggle.
“Okay,” he said, suddenly uncertain. The restaurant called him, but so did the sense of solidifying guilt that their actions had caused all this. It was unreasonable and untrue, and yet he could not shake the idea.
“I’ll see you at Sally’s,” Trix said. “You go now, or if they’re watching they’ll figure something’s up.”
“Can they figure?” Jim asked. His fear of the wraiths, their alienness, had barely had time to figure over the past hour. But here and now, their actions and unknown nature suddenly hit home. Can we really fight them? he wondered, and his plan suddenly felt weak and pointless. And Veronica, that dear old lady… can we really fight her?
“What the fuck have we got ourselves mixed up in, eh?” Trix asked.
“Yeah.” She came to him and they hugged, then she shoved him at the door.
“I’ll hide,” she said, “but not for long. Then I’m out the back door and gone.”
“Run fast.”
“You, too.”
Jim nodded in the darkness, and in the distance came another rumble as a weakened building collapsed. He dragged the front door open, smelled fires and dust and fear on the breeze, and then left his friend behind.
Trix counted out a minute, using the counting to try to calm herself. Then she ran like hell. She found the rear door by touch, tugged it open, and emerged onto a wide alleyway behind the row of shops. There was little damage here-only the smashed glass that must be common throughout the city-and the area seemed quiet. Weird. The whole city had been shaken awake, and here-
“Hey!” someone shouted, and that was enough for Trix. Jim was going west, and she sprinted north toward Chinatown as fast as she could. Should’ve taken the envelope and sheet from him! Should’ve arranged somewhere else to meet in case it’s too dangerous there! But there were so many shoulds, because this was a Boston of possibilities.
There were two fire engines and a couple of ambulances blocking the street around the next corner, where a four-story building had collapsed. The structures on either side of it seemed stable and virtually undamaged-their architecture slightly off-center, as if built blind-and she saw the confusion in some of the firefighters’ stances and gestures. They don’t recognize those buildings. But they were professionals, and by the time she squeezed by, they were already in action. She glanced back at the next corner and saw them approaching the fallen building, ready to do their best even in the face of mystery.
She ran through the streets of Boston’s Chinatown. Some areas seemed almost untouched but for the familiar scree of shattered glass splashed across the sidewalks and roads. Others were in ruins. The city had fallen strangely silent, many routes now blocked to vehicles. The quiet was broken on occasion by sirens and shouts, and from some far distance a long, rumbling explosion, but they were islands of noise in a strange, unsettling calm. It was as if Boston was in shock, and unable to speak its usual ebullient language.
Many times over that final block she wanted to stop and help. There were people in need: bleeding in the street, pawing at rubble, wandering in a dangerous daze. But she sensed eyes on her back every step of the way, and she was scared. She was terrified. Lost in a city that should be familiar and yet that was more alien due to its occasional familiarity, she craved the company of someone who understood. She hoped that Jim would find Jenny and Holly, though she doubted it; and she hoped that she would see him again soon, as they had both vowed. But right now, finding the woman named Sally Bennet was her one true aim.