He looked down and found a room card with a sleeve. In his handwriting, the number 456 was scrolled across the top. “Oh yes, I’m sorry. Please excuse me. I’m just getting over a cold, and I’m moving a little slower than usual.” He handed her the card. “It’s room 456. Go through the lobby and take the elevators to your left. Do you need help with your luggage?”
“No, thank you,” Amanda answered. She walked away, leaving David Ruiz with a headache and a five-minute memory gap. She reached her room, dropped into the chair by the window, and called Greg.
“Hello,” Greg said tentatively.
“I’m here,” she said quickly. “It’s not the same virus, but it’s close. The clerk downstairs has been sick for a week; if it was my virus, he would be dead by now instead of getting better. I’m fairly certain that this is a mutation, and that’s why people aren’t dying by the thousands.”
“What about the violence? Is it related?”
“Absolutely.”
“Do you know who’s doing this?” Greg’s voice was rising in excitement.
“Not yet. I can feel him, he’s close, but for some reason I can’t break through.”
“So how do you find him?”
“I don’t know, but I’m worried that we may be too late. A slower-acting virus has greater infectivity. Thousands could already be affected.” Amanda wondered how many travelers Ruiz had infected in the last week, and how many those people had infected once they left. “We need help, and it’s not going to come from Atlanta.” Amanda quickly summarized her exchange with Martin.
“Our Chief Medical Examiner is brilliant but somewhat unusual. I can start with him.”
“It might be more effective if I talk with him.”
Greg laughed loudly. “I think if you met with Phillip Rucker, we wouldn’t be able to get him out from under his desk for a week. You better let me handle this.”
“All right,” Amanda said. “Greg, I really do need to see you and Lisa.” Aside from Emily, they were her last real contacts with humanity. “Let me find someplace safe, and I’ll call you back with a location. ’Bye.”
Amanda put her phone away and let her mind drift. The killer was frustratingly close, but he remained shrouded. If she could find him, she could extract every thought from his mind and quite easily take what was left of his life, without ever getting up from her chair — except, she couldn’t find him.
Her mind came back around to the early morning conversation with Greg. His parish priest had abilities similar to her own? It wasn’t possible; she would have been aware of him long before now. Could he be the one that was spreading the virus? The man who was seeking her? The killer?
There was no way of knowing without seeing him, but first she needed some sleep. It had been over forty-eight hours since she had last slept, and while her need for sleep wasn’t great, her body did need to recharge every once in a while. Two hours, I can afford two hours. She turned back the sheets, stripped down to a T-shirt and panties, and fell into the bed. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
It was the same dream; it was always the same dream. She was walking along some sugar-white beach in the early evening twilight. She was alone, not by herself, but alone. There wasn’t another human being left on the planet, or perhaps the universe. Either way, she didn’t care. Nothing else had changed. Everywhere she looked, the world was the same; the birds sang as she kicked up the sand, waves lapped at her feet, and the wind blew through her hair. Off in the distance she heard her dog bark. Mittens, her mottled and often mangy mongrel dog from childhood, now a sleek golden retriever in the prime of life, ran towards her with a smile on his face. He had a look of sheer contentment, and Amanda realized that she too was completely content. She bent down to greet Mittens, and he lapped at her face relentlessly. She was naked, but it didn’t seem to bother Mittens, and as he was the only other sentient being in sight, Amanda ignored her nakedness. Besides, he was naked, too. She felt liberated, free from more than just clothes. The worries, the responsibilities that had crushed her all her life were gone. She ran, jumped, and wrestled with Mittens for hours, and the sun never set. She was both child and adult, fused in some strange synergy that only dreams can produce.
Mittens leapt from her grasp and streaked down the beach, running for the absolute joy of it. He crested a dune and jumped far into the sky, snapping at the seagulls as they took to flight. He landed in a heap, rolled over, and came up shaking, sending sand flying in all directions. Amanda laughed, and Mittens’ smile broadened. He existed only to make her happy.
A sudden loud drumming noise broke their reverie, and Amanda instinctively covered herself. This wasn’t part of the dream. Mittens stood alert, searching for the source of their interruption. His fur began to stand on end, and Amanda could hear his low, menacing growl over the surf. He stared up the dune that he had just run down. Something was over there. More specifically, someone was over there, unseen, but watching. Amanda could feel the curious eyes exploring her, and she felt more naked than she ever had felt in the waking world. Mittens jogged back to her, waiting for the command to destroy the interloper.
“Easy, big boy,” she said while patting Mittens, who seemed to have grown to an unnatural size. Amanda stood, fully clothed, no longer the fragile flower of her youth, but a force of nature, more than capable of defending herself. “Let’s see who it is.” Her mind reached for the intruder, but it slipped her grasp. She chased it, but it kept scurrying away; it was like trying to pin a mouse with a tennis racket. Mittens barked and shot across the sand and over the dune with dream-like speed. Through his eyes, Amanda first saw him, the intruder, and he saw her.
“Let me kill him,” Mittens whispered, and Amanda was suddenly by his side, standing at the crest of the dune, staring at a man dressed all in black. She looked down to see a ferocious wolf where Mittens used to be, his eyes burning with a murderous light. “He’s the killer, and he means to destroy us. Evil runs through his veins. I can smell it.” Mittens the wolf was drooling and licking his chops.
“No, he has answers that I need, besides I promised,” she said weakly to her dog. But a part of her, a part beyond Mittens, toyed with the idea. Did she really need answers? Were they as important as stopping him, killing him? It would be so easy. There was no possibility of escape. She could see him, and that was all that was necessary. She felt the old cruel smile cross her face, and the blood lust rose in her chest. Mittens tensed, waiting for his release, but Amanda hesitated. She had promised Lisa and Greg, and for six years, she had lived by that promise.
“Aunt Emily said to kill him,” Mittens countered. Amanda looked down at her enormous wolf, but still she hesitated.
The Dark Man tried to speak, but Amanda couldn’t hear him. His mouth moved, but she couldn’t understand him. They were closer now, and the sound of the surf had receded, but she just couldn’t make out what he was trying to say. She strained to listen, but all she could hear was an annoying buzzing sound.
“I can’t understand you,” she said over the buzzing. Mitten’s tail brushed her leg, his threatening growl clearly audible.
The Dark Man started waving his arms, and Mittens jumped to his feet. “No,” Amanda commanded, and Mittens obediently sat by her side. She didn’t feel threatened. It was her dream, her mind, and her turf.
He became more agitated with her lack of response, and he took a step closer, his face registering anger now. Mittens had risen to a crouch, ready to launch himself at the strange man and tear off one of the waving arms. One more step and Amanda would let him, but the man stopped. He put down his arms and just stared at her, frustration and anger radiating from him.