Shadows Across America Page 47

  Ari dressed Ethan’s wounds with tenderness and dedication as she mumbled declarations of understanding and loyalty. She had become fragile and open, at the mercy of forces she couldn’t begin to understand. He still seemed to get lost for brief periods, as though he were daydreaming. Their shock had made them forget the threats all around them. The door burst open, and someone stepped into the shed. Ari tried to react, but the intruder was pointing his gun at them.

  “Bang. Você está morta. Hahahaha!”

  “Caimão! You crazy son of a bitch! You’ll lead them all right in here. Did you see what happened? Where were you?”

  Caimão, who was completely disoriented, gestured vaguely around him. “Where the shooters were. We exchanged fire for a while; then the loudspeakers came on, and they left. I chased them a little, but then I came back, and the explosion caught me by surprise. Did you see it? They must have heard it across the state.”

  “Why did you chase them, you fool? Did you hit anyone? Are you all right?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. They ran into the trees. Cowards!”

  Ari went over and patted his vest. “You’re bleeding. You’ve been hit!”

  Caimão looked down in annoyance. “Shit! I knew it!”

  “You didn’t realize? What are you on, you bastard?”

  Caimão didn’t answer. He just giggled like a naughty boy. Ethan laughed along with him as though he’d just arrived and had no idea of the gravity of the situation. Ari had to bark at them a couple of times to get them to shut up. Eventually she persuaded Caimão to take off his shirt.

  “Did you see the explosion? Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

  “No, except that it was fucking huge. There was a mushroom cloud. It’s like they blew up the whole town. It’s a good thing I was coming back.”

  “Did you see 4:20?”

  “Yes.” Even in his stimulated state he betrayed a hint of sorrow. “He bled out. We need to go.”

  “We haven’t completed the mission.”

  “But we’re still alive! Why do you think I came back to get you? Look at 4:20! They were waiting for us! We’ve been fucking lucky.”

  “You most of all. You were hit under the collarbone; I think it’s still inside. How the hell are you able to lift your arms?”

  Caimão just laughed stubbornly.

  Ethan talked over him. “I don’t know what’s happened, but this is a gift. Do you think anyone’s going to pay any attention to us now? Now’s the time—let’s take advantage of the chaos to get Michi.” Images flashed before his eyes; he had no idea if they were real or not. He didn’t say anything. “I’m staying here, Caimão, but it’s up to you.”

  “Fine, we’ll go right to the end, but I’m taking 4:20’s share too. This is much worse than what we agreed.”

  “You’ve got some balls,” Ari spat back. “What we agreed? You were the one saying it’d be a walk in the park. Not that it matters—we’re not going to argue about money now. Besides, it was already yours.”

  Ethan blinked hard. The color faded from his vision as though he’d turned down the lights and then came back in waves. He found it hard to concentrate. He felt like he was falling asleep while the cuts in his face started to throb, trying to communicate in a language of their own. He pulled himself together and spoke to his comrades, both of whom were wounded worse than he was. “Can you two go on? I have a plan.”

  The room began to cloud in Stobert’s vision as the drug took effect, but it didn’t disappear; it only transformed. Now the walls gave off their own glow. He detected a pair of frequencies above him: the girls in their cells. Now he knew which one he had to sacrifice. And he saw himself walking, turning around, looking back at his prone body, and going out again. He knew that it wasn’t him. It was the creatures that had taken his shape, still linked to his uncle in Vienna. They were on the trail of a child’s fear and moved freely down the halls like ghosts, looking for someone new to infest.

  “Are you crazy? You must be more screwed up than we are. Splitting up will just get us killed one by one,” Ari hissed.

  “After what’s happened, I agree with the gringo,” Caimão said. “I think they’re all gone. The most important thing now is to get out of here before the police arrive, and the search will go faster if we each take half the territory.”

  Ethan had suggested they split up. Ari and Caimão would take the upper floors while he took the ones below ground. The reasoning was simple: between the two of them they barely made one able-bodied fighter while although his face was a fright, it was the only damage done to him. He’d been lucky. He took Ari to one side for a little privacy. She didn’t want to argue even though his plan defied logic, and he had always been the logical one. He begged her to trust him, concealing his real reasons. He had a vague feeling that this was how it was supposed to be. To Ari, this was the Ethan she remembered from way back: it was his voice and honesty. She agreed to go along with him, as senseless as it was. He hugged her, and she stroked his wounds gently.

  “The scars will heal quickly. They won’t look bad—they might even make you look a little cuter.”

  Ethan stammered an apology, but she quickly cut him off.

  “This isn’t the time.”

  “It never is. To hell with that.” He brought his hand to her cheek. “I’ve never loved anybody the way I love you, Ari. Never. Why do we only ever learn when it’s too late?”

  The Jackal climbed laboriously into the passenger seat. He knew that he was bleeding internally and had a few broken ribs. The survivors of the operation were removing the melted windscreens. They had to roll them up like carpets, peeling them off the chassis. What was left of the convoy got moving. He rubbed his temples; a pain he’d never known before was throbbing in his ears. Neither vehicle had any glass left. At the entrance to the forest they passed a pair of guards coming back. When they saw them, the guards raised their arms, pleading for help. They were mown down without pity. Then the vehicles continued down the road until the old hospital loomed ominously before them. The men got out and, before doing anything else, released more smoke to provide cover. Now that their numbers had been reduced so savagely, they took every precaution.

  The three of them entered through a side door into the storage area on the south side and split up. Ethan combed the ground floor while Ari and Caimão went up the stairs. Ari and Caimão heard trees swaying in the wind, the call of birds, and dripping water: a tuneless, erratic beat. Some of the windows flapped in the breeze. They went through wood-paneled offices and reception areas that hadn’t been occupied for years, past gutted bathrooms and laboratories, until they came to a room that was decorated with childish motifs. It was split into a series of cells with bunks and up-to-date equipment. They checked each cell until they came to the only one with a locked door. Inside, they saw a body sleeping on the cot. As Ari grew excited with anticipation, Caimão forced the door open, and they went inside. A girl hooked up to equipment was lying unconscious. She looked dead, but Caimão checked her vital signs and disconnected her.

  “She’s breathing slowly, but she’s breathing.”

  Ari compared her to the photographs on her phone, holding her breath so as not to jump for joy. But then she got her biggest letdown since they’d begun the case. “It’s not her.”

  Caimão turned to her sharply. “What? What do you mean, woman?”

  “Look for yourself. She looks nothing like her—this is a different girl.”

  “No. No, no, no. That’s it. You have your girl. We’re leaving.”

  “You can’t leave me now—we haven’t found the girl.”

  Caimão was furious.

  Their argument was cut short by the sound of engines. Keeping to the shadows, they saw a pair of Range Rovers park at the north entrance. Six heavily armed men got out, wearing infrared goggles. Before deploying, they released a huge cloud of smoke that snaked around up to the floor where they were hiding. A few seconds later, they heard footsteps approaching
.

  “Come on!” Caimão whispered nervously. “Let’s go back the way we came before they get here. It’s our only chance.”

  But Ari answered with Ethan’s stubbornness. “She’s here. We can’t abandon her now.”

  “Have you seen her? We have no choice! I’ve done much more than we agreed. My friend is dead, but I stuck with you. No. I’m going. This has become a suicide mission. You don’t have to die.”

  She barely took in his words; a deep-rooted determination shone from her red eyes. “At least save this girl.”

  Caimão looked down at the little girl, abashed. Without saying a word, he lifted her onto his healthy shoulder and limped to the stairs. Ari checked the hallway lined with cells, which was filling up with smoke, and headed into the ominous silence of the floor above. The sound of boots echoed around her, growing louder all the time.

  Ethan searched each space as though he was on autopilot, certain that he’d know the right room even though he’d never seen it before. He wasn’t overly worried about stealth. An obscure hunch told him that he was alone with his objective. It was burning close by, like an icy flame. He sensed it beyond his own body, lucid but vague, guided by a thought that had led him since the beginning, a thought that told him where Michi was as well as the source of the danger she was in. It was like a revelation, hidden knowledge that his wounds had unblocked. Echoes of his dreams resounded inside of him: flashes of Michi and an abstract shape with one eye that . . . suddenly a shiver ran through him. It felt like something had touched him. But there was no one else on the floor. He instinctively headed for the stairs, knowing that his time was running out. He no longer saw the premonition of the false shaman as a warning but rather a plea. He had covered half the floor when a memory of Michi hit him like a slap to the face: “Don’t go any farther, or they’ll catch you.” He heard the sound of cars braking in front of the building, followed by coils of smoke snaking through the columns. Ethan went down the stairs to keep out of sight. On the first step he suddenly grew cold and dizzy: he had been there before, heading into the darkness, away from the lights and noise, haunted by a pair of women’s voices warning him about the danger. Ethan continued down carefully, knowing that his destiny was approaching. It was as though everything had already been preordained, but he still needed to fulfill it. He ducked farther into the shadows.

  The Jackal ordered his men to head in different directions: a couple would search the basement while the other four would come with him to search the old clinic. He gave very clear orders: if they encountered anyone, shoot on sight. They continued to keep a screen of white smoke ahead of them to cover their approach. The place felt as though it were under a spell and, fortunately, empty; there was no trace of body heat. After the main lobby, the door behind the reception desk led to a side passage, one of whose walls consisted of reflective glass. The Jackal knew they’d made a significant discovery and looked for the light switch to the observation room. When the lights came on, they were presented with the sight of a hospital bed with its back raised so it looked like a kind of sickly throne. On it rested the withered, decrepit, naked body of an old man. His collarbones stood out sickeningly against his skin, and his ribs were so sunken they looked as though they’d inverted themselves due to a lack of support. His wrinkled abdomen wasn’t dissimilar to an empty bag, and his bony, spindly limbs were bulging with veins and arteries like a morbid map. The sight of so much spotted green skin was thoroughly repulsive.

  The second-in-command took off his goggles. “Sir, he doesn’t give off any heat. He’s the same temperature as the furniture. He must have been dead for several days. Was this our target?”

  The Jackal wasn’t listening. He’d heard stories about the old man and had a vague memory of him from his childhood. A terrifying memory that fit well with what he saw before him. “Go in, and check his vital signs.”

  For the first time, the professionals hesitated to follow his orders. They looked at each other in amazement, and in the end the most senior man among them decided to obey. No one followed. He crept forward, pointing his gun, until he was standing next to the body. He pressed the gun against his chest, but the old man didn’t move. Grimacing in disgust, he took off a glove so he could feel for a pulse. The flesh was spongy like a jellyfish, and an unexpected shudder only increased his revulsion. To the shock of his colleagues, he jumped back. They raised their weapons, but he motioned to them to lower their guns as he caught his breath.

  “He’s . . . he’s . . . got a pulse. He’s freezing. It looks as though he’s in a coma, maybe an induced one.”

  The Jackal smiled. “Come on! What are you waiting for? Get a blanket or something. Pick him up.”

  The abductors went in and carried him out with notably superstitious reluctance.

  “Fucking hell, he’s a living corpse.”

  Ari kept on going, not bothering to consider how she was going to get out of a building surrounded by enemies. She was worried about Ethan, but he had a better chance of getting away from the ground floor. She stopped to listen but couldn’t hear anything. Nobody had come up yet, and she’d heard no sign of a fight. She followed the same path as the one that had taken her to the little girl on the floor below. Her hunch turned out to be right: she found another ward. It was better furnished than the previous one, with children’s beds and a Disney princess castle that had been used recently. Toys were scattered all over the floor. The ward led to more empty cells, and once again, one was locked. She kicked it open and ran inside to disconnect the monitor from the form lying in the bed. She turned the girl over and for the very first time came face-to-face with Michi. The girl was asleep but agitated. Michi was sweating and shaking, mumbling incoherent phrases that Ari was somehow able to understand. This in itself scared her.

  “See? You stopped. But if you move, they’ll find you. And then you’ll never come back.”

  Ari acted as she never would have imagined. “Michi. I’m Ethan’s friend. I’ve come to rescue you. Is that who you’re talking to? Michi, are you talking to Ethan?”

  The girl seemed to relax when she sensed Ari’s presence, and her breathing grew steadier. Ari told herself that it was just a dream; she’d been confused by all the strange things that had happened over the past few days. She was trying to work out how she was going to carry the girl when Michi spoke again, this time in a bland, steady voice that made her hair stand on end.

  “Yes, I’m speaking to Ethan.” Then she addressed the other person. “There are two of them. They’re coming down the passage, but I can see them for you. Don’t be afraid—they don’t know that I’m talking to you.”

  Ethan peered into the murky darkness of the basement. Behind him the sounds from the real world above faded and distorted, as though he were walking away from a party. Before him was only darkness and destiny. He knew that he was the only one who could do what he had to do. The memory throbbed in his head: “Don’t go any farther, or they’ll catch you.” The passage opened onto a waste-disposal room. “I can’t stop; I can’t help it.”

  “Yes, you can. This is part of your dream. If you don’t stop, they’ll find you.”

  Ethan stared numbly at the end of the corridor as though he were hallucinating. He saw a flickering light. Sunlight from far away. Moving instinctively, he found an old black rubber trash can, opened it, and, ignoring the stink of rot, hid inside.

  “There are two of them. They’re coming down the passage, but I can see them for you. Don’t be afraid; they don’t know that I’m talking to you.”

  Ethan knew that there were two women’s voices, so who did the other one belong to? A few moments later, he heard footsteps. He kept the can closed and waited, following the path of the two armed men in his mind.

  The pair of men whom the Jackal had sent down into the cellar found the waste-disposal room. They could see the heat marks left by footprints in the corridor ahead of them, although they were fading rapidly. They seemed to lead around the corner, to where the
trash was kept. At the end they saw a staircase leading up.

  “What do you think? Someone running away?”

  “Let’s follow the footprints.”

  They walked off into the darkness, retracing Ethan’s steps. He waited until he thought it was safe and came out of the trash can, retching.

  “I’m afraid of the other one. He says he’s a man, but I know he isn’t. He’s one of them, and if he finds me, he’ll take me away.”

  This was his last chance. He started to run.

  Ari was paralyzed by a sense of incredulity. She heard Michi saying things that made no sense, and yet she was sure they were addressed to Ethan, maybe now or some time ago. She even remembered some of them herself.