Periphery, page 23
“I heard a thud.”
“I bumped the table and knocked over a picture. Are you really here?” Her hands rose, not to his face but to her own, and as they did Andrew noticed the heavy bandages covering both of her forearms. His wife’s fingers roved her cheeks in a tentative, probing manner, tapping and sliding, inching this way and that like spider legs searching for purchase on a slick wall. “Am I here?”
Unnerved, he reached up and clasped her hands.
“Jesus, Grace, what happened?” He turned her arms outward. “Were you attacked? Where’s Anna, is she alright?”
“Anna?”
The urge to slap her was instantaneous and overwhelming. Andrew took a long, shuddering breath.
“Our daughter, Grace. Where’s Anna?”
“You’re hurting me.”
He released her hands and cupped her cheeks in his palms. “Is she here?”
“No. She spent the night at my sister’s, thank god. My dreams. Andy, they were horrible. So horrible. I woke up screaming, covered in sweat. If Anna had been here she would have been terrified.”
He slid his hands down to her shoulders and pulled her close. Grace returned the gesture as best she could, with only the tips of her fingers touching his back. “Andy,” she whispered into his chest, “I think I’m going crazy.”
“You’re not.” He stroked her hair, aware that Sid was lingering just outside the still-open front door.
“I can’t shake it. All day I’ve been slapping myself, pinching myself. I, I…” She was shaking so violently her body thrummed like a current in his arms. “Andy, I cut myself today. Intentionally. I haven’t done that since I was a teenager. I thought it would snap me out of it. It didn’t. I feel like I’m stuck between awake and dreaming and any second I’ll slip back into the nightmare.”
Andrew eased her off his chest. “You can’t shake the dream because it wasn’t a dream. It was a vision, jammed into your head. I know because I had the same one this morning. You, on a slab, surrounded by horrible machines.”
“The Mechanisms of Nil.”
Andrew nodded. “Me strapped to a wall forced to watch, and then something drags Anna into the room, something despicable.”
It was Grace’s turn to cup his battered face in her hands. She wasted no time expressing astonishment or doubt, demanding an explanation or retreating into denial. “We can’t let that happen.”
“No, we can’t.”
“What do we have to do to keep her safe?”
Andrew pointed toward the upstairs bedroom. “Start packing.”
From John’s hospital window, Little Billy had a view across the Hillsborough River to Bayshore Boulevard and its many condo towers. The buildings were blushed in a way Little Billy had never seen before, radiant with an infectious glow not unlike the pulse of the xalantracoils. The lowering sun was a blood boil over the bay, a swelling blister in the smoke haze. A few blocks beyond Bayshore lay the southernmost edge of the circle formed the by coils. Little Billy scanned the scene, straining to catch a glimpse of something that had no right to be there, something like a misshapen child’s balloon drifting through or above the tree canopy.
“Anything?” Katie asked.
Little Billy rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I thought I might have seen something a few minutes ago, but I can’t be certain. The buildings are blocking most of the view.”
“What kind of timeframe are we talking about?” Dr. Cho asked.
Little Billy retreated from the window and sunk into a chair near the wall. He hadn’t expected to just stroll into John’s room, despite the reassurances Dr. Cho had given him over the phone. He assumed there’d be a guard stationed in the hall, maybe two, but when the elevator doors had opened on the fifth floor, he’d seen only Cho chatting with a nurse at the station. She escorted them inside John’s room without opposition, saying only “I know people here” in way of explanation.
The doctor wasn’t what Little Billy had been expecting. For some reason, he’d pictured a petite, bespectacled, bird-like woman who flitted about from one urgent task to the next. This woman was statuesque and brusque, but instead of intimidating or severe, her direct, no-bullshit manner came off as reassuring, approachable.
“You’re the second person to ask me that today.”
“We have until dawn,” Katie answered, cocking her head at Little Billy, challenging him to contradict her. He did not.
The bathroom door opened. “Something’s sticking me in the neck,” John said as he emerged. He tried to reach for it with his right hand, winced, tried again with the left and fumbled fruitlessly until Dr. Cho reached over to yank the price tag off his collar.
He thanked her with a grunt. “Your girlfriend dresses me funny. I look like a gay cowboy.”
Little Billy squinted. Plaid shirt, creased blue jeans. He gave Katie a glance and she rolled her eyes in response.
“Don’t forget the pink ascot. She had to go to four stores to find one.”
John pointed to his bare feet.
“Don’t suppose you’d like to help me get the shoes on? Thought of bending over makes me want to cry.”
“Can’t have that.”
John eased himself to the bed and while Cho slipped on his new socks and sneakers he turned to Little Billy. “This firefighter that bailed Andrew out, this Langston. You think he’s on the up-and-up?”
Little Billy shot Katie another look, one John did not miss this time, before answering. “You mean do I think he’s going to take Andrew somewhere and bury a fire ax in his skull? No. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have left them alone together.”
“And the meeting? He told you where it was going to be?”
“Fire Station One. Only six or seven blocks from here.”
“Good.” John held out his hand and Dr. Cho eased him up. Little Billy liked watching the way the two interacted. They’d only known each other a few weeks, but he saw in their easy exchange of mild barbs true camaraderie. There was nothing flirtatious or sexual about any of it. “Buddies,” came closest to what he sensed.
“Why good?” Little Billy asked.
“Because you’re going, too. You and…” he pointed a finger at Katie.
“Katie,” she answered, although she had introduced herself shortly after entering the room. “Katie Fife.”
“You and Katie, Katie Fife. He’s going to need someone there with an in-depth knowledge of the coils. Still have my map?”
“Yes. What about you? You’re not going?”
John hobbled to the sink and ran water over a comb.
“My being there won’t make any difference. Besides,” he said, drawing the comb slowly through his shoulder-length hair, “I have a few errands of my own.”
“Errands?”
Dr. Cho’s cell began to ring.
“That’s all you need to know for now.”
“This better be good news,” the doctor said in way of greeting. As they waited for her, Katie nudged him with an elbow.
“What’s up?” she mouthed.
He shook his head.
“You’re going to love this,” Cho said as she re-pocketed the phone.
Little Billy thought he saw something flit across John’s face, a twitch of raised eyebrows, a widening of the eyes, a tug at the corner of his mouth. Surprise, maybe?
“They found something?” he asked.
“Said it’s exactly what you’re looking for. They’re there now, awaiting further orders.”
“Don’t ask,” John said, pointing at Little Billy preemptively. “Go to the meeting. Both of you.” He turned back to Cho. “You sure I’ll be able to just waltz out of here without getting shot?”
“I’m sure.”
“Then let’s move. I need to pick up something from my apartment first. Call Hector back and find out if they’re armed.”
“Don’t have to. He assured me they’d be able to defend this place against the hordes of hell. That’s exactly what he said, I kid you not: ‘hordes of hell.’ ”
John made his way gingerly to the door. Little Billy thought he would offer some parting word of encouragement, but he simply pushed through the door without a backward glance. Cho at least gave them a nod before following.
Once alone, an impulse seized Little Billy and he jumped up, poked his head out the door and snapped a photo of John Tate and Emily Cho walking elbow-to-elbow to the elevator doors. Katie came up behind him and glanced at the phone’s screen.
“Don’t know why I did that,” he said. “All I got was their backs.”
“You know why.”
They stood in silence for a moment, staring at the image.
“Take my picture,” Katie said. “Over here where the light’s better.”
Little Billy shook his head.
She fluffed her hair with her fingers, tilted her head in what might have been an attempt at a jaunty, carefree pose and pulled her lips up in an unconvincing smile. “Don’t you want something to remember me by?”
Little Billy was across the room before realizing he was in motion.
“I’m not going to take your damn picture, you hear me?” He grasped her shoulders and shook loose a sob. “I don’t need to. I’ll never need to. If I want to remember what you look like I’ll just track you down and look at you.”
Katie pushed him away. “You’re such a jackass.”
“What?”
“‘I’ll just track you down and look at you,’” she mocked. “So, you’ll come back from wherever the hell you drift off to after this is over and look me up sometime? Gee, thanks. Mighty big of you, William.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
A flash of light, a click. “There, now I have a picture of you. Least I won’t have to track you down if I want to remember what you look like.”
She marched to the door, leaving Little Billy rooted to the spot and wishing, for the first time, the vetro offalate would start clamoring in his head once more. He needed something to drown out the other voice chanting stupid, stupid, stupid, over and over again.
Katie shot him a glance over her shoulder. “You coming or what?”
Eighteen
Tampa Fire Chief Alonzo Rodriguez sat hunched over the conference table, his gaze roving among the scattered documents and half-empty coffee cups as if verification of the outlandish claims he’d just heard might be found amid the clutter. Across from him, nearly eighty unanticipated attendees waited, crammed shoulder-to-shoulder inside the room.
Andrew was stunned at the turnout. Sid had mentioned that other firefighters planned to “crash the party,” but the crowd milling around Station One’s front doors had been so large Andrew’s first assumption was that something had happened inside to force an evacuation. Most of Station Three’s B shift was here, as well as Captain Hamilton sitting at the far end of the conference table with the other station captains.
Daryl Cleeves was here. Sidney Sinclair. Jane Tremonte. He saw Clare Humbert and Terrance Jackson standing together near the opposite wall. Andrew hadn’t noticed his partner Gary among the attendees, but his old partner Max was here, milling near the front with a half-dozen firefighters from Station Twelve. The two had shaken hands earlier outside the station.
“I heard what happened,” Max said, scrutinizing his face for a moment. “You actually look better than I expected. Word on the street is you lost an eye in the fight and had all your front teeth knocked out.”
Andrew laughed, displaying his still intact incisors. “You know how ‘the street’ likes to exaggerate.” His smile withered. “Seriously, though. Thanks for the heads-up the other day. Didn’t make a damn bit of difference, but I appreciated the warning.”
“Wish I could have given you more specifics. No one back at the station believes you’re a junkie. At least none of the ones who worked with you. And I know for a fact your captain doesn’t believe it either. Whole thing was a fucking setup.”
Rodriguez’s heavy sign drew Andrew’s attention back to the front of the room.
“Alright.” The fire chief drummed his fingers on the top of the conference table. “Let’s say, just for the sake of argument, that what you people are claiming is true.”
“It’s true,” Sid broke in. “You think this is a joke? We’re all risking our careers coming here.” Andrew placed a hand on the big lieutenant’s shoulder and raised the other when Langston spun on him.
“Calm down,” he hissed.
“We don’t have time for this shit.”
“Calm. Down.”
“Let’s say I believe your claims about a rash of animal attacks,” Rodriguez continued. The comment elicited a smattering of contemptuous snorts, Sid’s being the loudest. Andrew ground his molars and gripped the back of the chair he was standing behind until his hands quivered. “Why storm in here tonight? In case you haven’t noticed, we have a bigger problem right now. This could have waited.”
“No, it couldn’t.”
Heads turned. From the back of the room two people pushed forward, one defiantly, the other reluctantly.
“And you are?” Rodriguez asked.
“Katie Fife. My brother was killed by these things.”
“Ms. Fife, are you a firefighter?”
“No. I’m a second-grade teacher. I’m here with Andrew Tate.” She pointed. “And if you want to prevent a catastrophe like this city has never seen, you’ll do exactly what he says. He and Will.” She placed a hand on Little Billy. “They know more about what’s going on than anyone else in this room.”
Rodriguez pushed his chair back from the conference table. “I’m not about to start taking orders from an elementary school teacher who shouldn’t be here to begin with. Now I’m only going to say this once, so…”
On the fire chief’s right sat a woman in a TPD uniform. Andrew recognized her as Chief Samuels. Before Rodriguez could say more, she leaned over and began whispering in his ear. Except for the crackle and hiss of various personal radios, the room was silent. Rodriguez murmured something back and she nodded. One by one, the fire chief surveyed the rest of the men and women at the table. Some returned his glace with a puzzled frown. Most, however, gave their own small nods in return.
Rodriguez sighed. “Alright, Mr…”
“Andrew Tate, sir.”
Rodriguez appeared to do a double-take after picking Andrew from the crowd. It was only later, catching a glimpse of his battered reflection in an office window, than Andrew realized why.
“Mr. Tate. The young lady says we’re facing some sort of catastrophe. Do you agree?”
“I do.”
“Then please, explain how these incidents are a bigger threat to the city than the largest wildfire in a century.”
A calm descended over Andrew as all eyes turned to him. His career was already over. It had ended long before Captain Hamilton had reached into his locker and pulled out a handful of morphine tabs. Even before taking a swing at Max. It had died the day Anna reached for a pot of boiling water while he snored on the couch. So be it. He had a new job now, one passed down from father to son. It was time he accepted that. Quintaloch, quintaloch, hiding in a tree.
“These attacks are just the beginning of something far worse. If we don’t act now, tonight, a hole will be torn through the heart of this city, and what will come pouring out will make our worse nightmares seem like sugar plum fairies.”
The silence was absolute. Even the radios were quiet. Slowly, Chief Rodriguez straightened, his eyes never leaving Andrew’s as the two men regarded each other across a gulf that expand and contract with every breath.
“Are you suggesting we’re on the verge of some sort of terrorist attack?”
Andrew licked his swollen lips. “Worse.”
Rodriguez surveyed his colleagues once again, seeking someone who shared his incredulity. No one met his glance. They were all watching Andrew. In addition to Tampa’s fire and police chiefs and the city’s station captains, those wedged around the conference table included the sheriffs of Pasco and Hillsborough counties, representatives from both counties’ fire departments and several officials wearing the brown and green uniforms of the Department of Forestry.
“Then what, Mr. Tate? What are you suggesting?”
“We’re facing an invasion.”
Rodriguez slammed his fist against the table. “Goddamn it! You are wasting our time. I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, Mr. Tate, but I think I can safely say this stunt is going to cost you your career.”
Andrew smiled. “Sir, my career was over before I ever stepped foot in here.”
“We should hear him out.” Captain Hamilton rose and circled around to the front of the table, positioning himself between the emergency response managers and the audience of firefighters. “I’ve seen these things myself. Thought I was losing my mind. It’s good to know I’m not. If Andy knows what the hell is going on I want to hear him out.”
“My people have been reporting some pretty strange things themselves.” The police chief rose. “I haven’t seen anything myself, but I trust the people who’ve come forward. These aren’t rookies. We’re talking vets with twenty, thirty years of law enforcement under their belts. If they say they’re seeing monsters, I can’t just dismiss it as a bunch of overactive imaginations.”
“You guys are coming to the party late.” A bearded DOF official tossed his pen on the table and rubbed his eyes. “We’ve been seeing these things for over a month now. I don’t like this talk of invasion any more than you do, Chief, but I’ve seen things I can’t explain. Unnatural things. I’m willing to listen to what this man has to say for at least a little while longer.”
Attention shifted back to Rodriguez. He sat motionless, only his eyes sweeping back and forth as he gauged the mood of the room.
“Okay, Mr. Tate,” he said with a wave. “I guess we’re all listening. Tell us about this invasion of yours and what you think we should do about it.”
John realized where they were going while they were still blocks away. Emily refused to tell him the site Booker and Hector had selected, insisting with a grin it would be “obvious” once they got there. She was right. As they turned south on Florida Avenue he slapped the dashboard.
