see to your wife,” Sam said and motioned him back with the gun.
“I will see this done now. I don’t care if I have to die for it. He’ll pay for what he’s done to my son!”
“We need him alive if there’s any chance to bring Roberto back.” I didn’t tell them I wasn’t sure I had the skills to do it, whether it could even be done, depending on the amount of decomposition that had begun, let alone animal involvement. Ew. “If you kill him now, there’s no chance, and you’ll die, too.” I reached out to Julio and touched his shoulder. I tried to resist the vibrations coming off him. I was contaminated already by Filberto, so what was a little more? “Do you want that? Your family needs you now.”
He collapsed beside his wife, and they wept together and clung to each other. I was unable to offer any solace.
Reaching out to Sam with my hand, I nearly fell face-first into him. He would have liked that too much, so I settled for dropping to my knees from fatigue.
After things settled down and a small plan for recovery took shape, Sam led me to his truck parked down the street. I got in and let him drive to the nearest diner we could find. “That was damned stupid.” Anger crackled off him, nearly lighting the night around him.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, but I didn’t need to be reminded. I survived, and no one died in the process. Bonus. “I got the information I needed.” Filberto had taken a beating, but he deserved it. Almost instant karma.
“At what cost?” he asked. “I’ve never seen you so wasted, Dani, not even after a tough life-swap.” Sam was never outright angry; he’s too controlled for that. What he does is simmer. It’s not brooding, because that’s too much like a pout for a man. But he simmers, and stews, and makes me wonder what’s going on in that mind of his. I might have to do a mind-meld someday, but not now.
Right now, I didn’t care. I needed flesh and lots of it. For whatever reason, it’s what I need to keep going. I don’t need just blood, though I do like my steaks rare. It’s not just protein, either. I tried plenty of whey protein shakes and granola bars at the beginning, and they didn’t do squat. I now despise granola. But something in a good, bloody steak does it for me. Who am I to question it? Maybe it’s in the chewing and grinding of the food in my mouth that makes it work, or part of the digestive process. Do you know what’s going on in your stomach when you’re not looking? I don’t know and don’t care, as long as it fills up whatever is depleted.
We inhaled the meal and headed out the door. This was a fuel stop for me. I was so depleted of energy, I’d have chewed my own leg off soon. We had to get to the lava fields near Grants. About an hour away, depending on who was driving. I could make it in forty-five. We had to try to recover the body tonight. Preventing further decay was essential to a successful resurrection, but as always to fully restore the body would require some sort of blood sacrifice, and there was no way to know how much blood the ritual would require.
I didn’t know if I had enough. I was exhausted enough already. However, Sam had volunteered for this duty. I didn’t want it to be his sacrifice either. Perhaps our combined forces would be enough to get the job done. There was something special about Sam that helped make the resurrections successful.
The unmistakable sound of a skateboard approaching made me step back into the doorway, into Sam, and his hands were on my hips to steady me. What I wouldn’t give to be able to really reach out to him, but I couldn’t. Touch, skin to skin, made me feel things I wasn’t prepared for, so I hung on to the wooden doorway and gasped for air.
“Hey, you okay, chica?” Burton asked and flipped his board to a stop beside us. My little mentor. At first I was always surprised to see him, but then I figured he knew things I didn’t and let it slide.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
“Don’t you listen to anything I tell you?”
“Huh?”
“I just told you not to take any extra chances. Maybe your brain is going bad or something.”
“Hardly. But I couldn’t not take this case, you know that.” Or at least he should. “Go away. I’m fine.”
“Cool. But heed the warning.” He tossed the skateboard onto the sidewalk and leaped onto it, disappearing into the shadows as only he could.
“That kid drives me crazy. How did he know you were here? We didn’t even know we were coming here.” Sam stepped up beside me to watch Burton zip away.
“I don’t know. I think he has some sort of radar.” Yeah, four-thousand-year-old radar.
“Has he been following you?”
“What, like you did?” Bingo.
Sam didn’t answer, but just stared down at me with a perturbed glint in his eyes. As a rule, I do not enjoy being looked down upon, but with Sam, I make the exception. When he looks down at me, I almost feel petite and feminine. I need to avoid that feeling. I’m not petite or particularly feminine. I’m strong and in charge of myself. Softer feelings aren’t in my job description and could get me killed again if I allow them.
“I tell you that kid is trouble.”
“How can a kid with his pants halfway down his ass be trouble?” I mean, really. Who takes a person like that seriously?
“You do have a point,” Sam said and watched as Burton skateboarded back to us.
“Later, dudes,” he yelled.
“See ya, Burton. Pull your damned pants up!” I called over the rush of the night. He raised his arm and flipped me off. Typical teenager. “He’s harmless.”
Sam shook his head, not convinced with my judgment of character. If he only knew how far I’d come, he wouldn’t question me now. “If you say so, but that’s the future of this country riding away on a piece of wood.”
If he only knew. Burton was a piece of the past trying to hold on to a future for the entire universe, and I was helping him. No wonder I was tired all the time.
“Let’s go.”
* * *
Two nights later we were back in Albuquerque. We had searched for two days before finding Roberto’s remains. It was a shame, too. All I could do was put what was left of this young boy on ice and see if we could figure out how to bring him back. The reverence that surged through me as I touched the small bones, placing them into the little cooler that would become his temporary coffin, surprised me. I pulled back and closed the lid as a wave of unwanted emotion washed over me. There was no time now for emotion.
The balance in this case was only partially restored. The crime had been committed, the criminal caught and the body recovered. Filberto was in a coma on life support with a significant brain injury and not expected to survive. I suppose that made my job easier. This was one case where a life-swap was certainly warranted, but the method by which to create the swap wasn’t in my hands yet. Paperwork and red tape. It all came down to who could argue better, your lawyer or theirs. I was betting on Liz, my little Chihuahua with the heart of a Rottweiler. All I had to do was wait.
I hate waiting.
* * *
Sometimes, I simply don’t understand the universe. Today is one of those days. Before I left the house, I spilled water three different times and in three different ways. That either meant something significant or my kitchen was more cluttered than I thought. But I made it in, coffee in hand, ready for all of the really important stuff I do around here.
I sat behind my desk trying not to laugh at the plight of the poor woman sitting across the desk from me. She could have been anyone’s auntie or grandmother, sitting there all prim and proper with her Sunday best on, and her glasses shoved pertly on her nose. There she sat, with pictures of Fluffy, her four-legged canine companion. Recently deceased. This wasn’t boding well for an improvement in my day.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Chapman,