Chapter Eighteen

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I ripped the map from Ann’s hands and watched uselessly as the droplet of blood inched its way towards the edge of crinkled paper before falling off as if it had found the edge of the world. I watched the blood evaporate before it had the chance it hit the floor.

The map, now just a map and nothing more, collapsed under my clenched fists as I watched our best chance for an expedient resolution fall away without a hope of stopping it. I’d had Debbie, and now she was gone, and all of this could have been avoided. I’d moved on her too quickly at the mall, and when I’d had a second chance, I let my emotions get the best of me, and I’d nearly died for it. Worse still, I’d let Ann down as well, and now? Now there wouldn’t be a third chance. I wanted to rage at the injustice of it all, to break something. Or someone. I wanted to do so much.

I let the map fall to the ground.

“That’s it,” I sighed, walking out of the shed. “I give up. I can’t do this.”

“That’s it?” Ann asked, her voice just above a whisper. “All of this and you’re just going to walk away.”

I turned to look at her. “What? No, it’s nothing like that, it’s just... we need someone else. I knew this was stupid, I knew it was all too big, but I thought if I was smart and if I was quick, then maybe, but no. No more time. We can ask Abarta; I still have ways of contacting him. With your magic you could summon him, I was useful to him once upon a time—”

“I’m not going to let you ask any favors from him.”

“Or maybe Freyja? I don’t know how to summon her, but surely Elana is in contact with her, though I’d need to find something she would want or at least—”

Ann gripped my shoulders and locked eyes with me, her face a vision of serenity. “No. We’re going to do this without gods or wizards or favors or even genies in lamps. Don’t lose your focus and don’t give up on me.”

I took a breath and composed myself. “It’s not that I want to, but I don’t know what else I can do. I can’t do this alone, not anymore.”

“That’s the whole point of this,” Ann repeated. “You’re not alone. You have me. And while I might not be the reason you’re involved in all of this, I am the reason you haven’t given up yet. So, no. I’m not giving up on you either. If you go back to someone like Abarta for my sake, you’ll never be free, and I won’t be able to live with myself. So, yeah, this is it. This is where you need to find the courage to believe in us and figure this shit out. You in or what?”

I considered her words, and at last, I asked, “Why are you so calm?”

“Because I will literally die if I freak out,” Ann deadpanned.

It wasn’t funny, but I barked out a laugh all the same. “So this is where we’re at? Succeed or die trying?”

“I’d prefer to live trying,” she quipped before blinking thoughtfully and adjusting her glasses. “Give me a moment; I can do better. That sounded better in my head.”

“Ann, my friend, it’s not that I don’t appreciate the enthusiasm, we just don’t...” I needed a moment to collect my thoughts. I told myself I was done with underestimating her, and it was apparent that she understood the gravity of our situation. And it wasn’t that she was just more willing to gamble her life than I was, it was almost like she didn’t think our failure was possible. It was a challenge for me to separate that vote of confidence from the answer my mind wanted to insist upon. That she was delusional and desperate.

I took a breath and composed myself. “We are simply out of time, and we don’t know where they are. It’s not that I don’t want to, I do—”

“Good, then we start there,” Ann interjected. “Where there’s a will there’s a way, right? I mean, not my will, I never got around to making one. There’s going to be a straight-up fight over my Pilgrim merch. But yeah, sorry, you! You said you want to do it our way?”

I nodded hesitantly which was all Ann needed to continue. “And you can’t lie, so we start there. Pretend I’m not here. Pretend that I’m not part of any of this, but you need to follow these people. Where would you start?”

It was something to consider. I usually didn’t have the benefit of magic maps in the past. The map, nonmagical as it now was, hadn’t moved from the place I had left it. I smoothed it out and studied the edge of the map. The blood of Debbie ran along the 10 Freeway and presumably kept going. I just had to think about what was out there.

“The compound!” I nearly shouted.

“There’s a compound?” Ann asked. “Dude, nothing good ever happens on a compound.”

“Remember, in the shop? Wilma had mentioned it. I’ve heard of it; it’s supposed to be in the desert somewhere. I had always just assumed that meant someplace like the Mojave or Death Valley but, well, here. Pull up the maps on your phone!”

“I mean, if you’re trying to look at a map, my laptop might be better, but okay.” Ann squinted at her phone, and I took her meaning.

A few moments later, we were inside and looking at an aerial view of the entire state. Sure enough, once you crossed the border and traveled beyond the Colorado River and the border town, there had to be hundreds of miles of nothing. Or as close to nothing as you could imagine in a state like Arizona. “That has to be it,” I remarked, poking a finger into the screen.

Ann weakly swatted away my finger. “You’re going to smudge it.”

“Think about it,” I continued. “You have a cult. What’s a great spot to recruit the young and the confused? Venice Beach would be perfect, obviously. But where do you keep them all once you have them?”

“I’m guessing the middle of nowhere?”

I gave a small nod of approval. “Precisely! With real estate in the city, you can only go so big, but in the desert? You can get away with a lot in the desert.”

Ann studied the screen. “Okay, so where though? It’s at least a five-hour drive to the border, and we’ve already had a hell of a day. It’s going to be dark when we arrive.”

“Then I suppose we’d better get moving.”

* * *

It was unclear if the car Ann had rented was cleared for out of state travel or not, but the sticker in the corner of the window wasn’t from any agency I’d ever heard of, and Ann wasn’t protesting the distance, so I thought better of it. She did, however, protest my driving of the car which seemed like an odd time to be concerned with a security deposit. All the same, I had to insist that she at the very least try to sleep on the way there. Getting out of Los Angeles proper was always going to be a grueling task no matter what time we left, and as it stood, the GPS had us getting to the border in about 4 and a half hours without accounting for any time spent stopping for gas. On the best of days, sitting in stop and go traffic is enough to raise anyone’s stress levels. The best counter Ann could provide in response was that it would be ridiculous for anyone to drive while wearing a cloak. Ann won the argument. I removed the cloak.

I gathered Ann’s favorite pillows and a blanket, and makeshift bedding was created in the back seat with the rest of our gear stored in the trunk. Ann was understandably sore and tired from the day’s event, but not exactly sleepy. I provided her with earplugs, chamomile tea, and an assurance that I’d do my best to avoid potholes and bumps. She donned a warm sweater and, doing her best to get comfortable, settled in for a nap.

Truth be told, I could have done with the nap myself, but with my companion asleep, I was left with an unfair amount of time alone with my thoughts. For everything else that I’d been through, much of this was very new to me. I had always wanted a way out, wanted to take responsibility for my own life, and I certainly got my wish. There was a constant, painful awareness in the back of my head that everything that I did next would be my responsibility and mine alone. Alistair had forced my hand to an extent, but Debbie had a good point. I immediately went after her without trying anything else. I was prepared to kill her for Ann’s sake. That she was innocent of any crime was irrelevant. The lessons I’d learned from my mother left me ashamed all of a sudden. She was a healer and had raised me to be like her. To help those who need help. Debbie was born to at least one absent parent, raised to hurt those around her and she escaped. By all definition, she needed help.

Finding Debbie was a priority still, but I didn’t know what I was to do when I found her. Killing her felt like the wrong answer, though. The choice to kill her or let Ann die was being forced upon me, but the only one who could ultimately choose any of my actions would be me. No one would ever control me again. Whatever it was I did next, I would have to live with. Or not, depending on the circumstances.

All of that presumed that I could even find Debbie in the first place. I would though. There wasn’t another option, and there wasn’t time to consider the alternative.

“How’d I do on nap time?” Ann yawned from the backseat.

“Excellent,” I remarked. “We’re just about to cross the border into Arizona. If you look outside you will be able to see the great Colorado River in a couple of minutes.”

“I’ve seen it,” she replied, examining the earwax on her earplugs. “It’s not that great.”

“Maybe not this stretch of it,” I conceded. “But it is the last bit of nature that isn’t hot sand and rocks for quite some time, so enjoy it while you can.”

The crossing from California to Arizona offered no warm and friendly sign welcoming us or mentioning the Grand Canyon. Maybe that sign existed elsewhere, other roads perhaps or even further up, but not here. Instead, there was an ugly green sign which read ‘Arizona State Line Mile 0’. And then there was a combination Wendy’s and gas station. A sign indicated they sold something called a Baconator and that this was my last chance to purchase one.

“Would you like a Baconator?” I offered.

Ann’s bark of laughter registered with me as somewhere between shock and the funniest thing I’ve ever said. “Are you trying to tell me that you want a Baconator?”

“I’d prefer never to hear that word again if I have a say in the matter.”

“Fine with me, but you’re missing out. Not that I want one right now—I’d rather not risk that being my last meal—but if you can pull over for a second, I’d like to hop in the front seat like an adult.”

We were still in time to take advantage of the enormous parking lot and, as Ann opened the door, we were met with a biting cold breeze kicked up by the elements and the highway traffic alike. Buckled up, we again started driving.

“Check it out,” Ann said holding her necklace up for inspection. “Still not dead!”

Under the necklace was an ugly bit of necrosis and a couple of familiar looking dead lines. They didn’t look as bad as they had earlier though, which I took as a small blessing. “Congratulations, keep it up.”

We drove a couple of minutes more in silence. It was getting quite dark now, and the traffic from earlier was beginning to thin out as we headed out into the less populated stretches of the state. Soon there wasn’t another car in sight.

“I’m kind of surprised you didn’t try to sideline me again.” The suddenness of the statement startled me.

I measured my reply under the guise of lowering the heat in the car before I spoke. “Of course not, we’re a team now. We’re in this together, yes?”

“Yes, but that’s not all of it, is it?” she asked.

“No, it’s not,” I admitted.

“Something I thought about while I was trying to sleep. We need this amulet to stay the way it is for as long as we can, but if you manage to find the cure, you’re worried about getting it back to me in time. So you need to keep me close. Am I wrong?”

I gave her shoulder a brief squeeze. “You’re not, but that’s not all there is to it. Ann, you have shown me friendship in a way that I rarely experience. And I know you’re not alone in this, Elana and the rest have all been very kind. But in the past couple of days, you have shown bravery and character in the face of the sort of danger that would send most into a panic. On pure instinct, you came for me instead of playing it safe or hoping for the best. You may not be physically ready for most of the problems we have ahead of us, but I won’t make the mistake of underestimating your heart again. You’re right. We’re in this together.”

Ann wrapped her hand around the top of mine and gave it a squeeze of her own. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

We drove in silence for a while longer after that, until finally, we came upon a speck of dust on the map called Hope, AZ. It was more of an RV park and a tinderbox that had been named The Church of Hope, but the town’s sign made for interesting conversation.

“A bit ominous, isn’t it?” I said, referring to a hand-painted sign that read ‘Your Now Beyond Hope.’

“Not really, it’s possessive,” Ann replied. “If you’re looking for your Now Beyond Hope, maybe this is where you’ll find it. Anyway, think we should stop for gas? Try to find hope?”

I shook my head at that. “I didn’t see a station, and besides, we’re only six miles out from something resembling a real town. We should probably stop there for the night.”

Salome was big enough that it wasn’t a road sign, but that was about it. Still, in addition to a bar, it also had a motel, and that made it good enough for me. The Sheffler’s Motel was right off the highway and was precisely as unremarkable as a motel in the middle of nowhere should be. Apart from their sign, which looked to be at least fifty years old, the building itself was a single-story, plain white structure with a befouled swimming pool that struck me as a health risk even in the dead of night. It must not have been their busy time of year, however, as most of the parking spaces were wide open.

The middle-aged man behind the counter accepted cash with a down payment of a couple of nights’ stay and went back to watching his television. That he had customers at all seemed a mild annoyance for him, and he was quick to rush me out of the lobby.

First things first, I made sure that Ann was settled in the room with an insistence on my part that I would unload the car. The walls of the hotel were bare in contrast with the nausea-inducing pattern on the comforters. I wasn’t prepared to believe they’d been washed recently, and I used some of the bedding from the backseat on Ann’s bed before I got to the rest of it. It was more than cold enough in the room, let alone outside, to make the blankets a necessity, but my cloak would be good enough for the night at least.

I was grabbing my archery gear, the last bit to unpack from the trunk when I heard it. Not far from where I stood, three shots exploded in the night almost simultaneously. The bullet caliber must have been something akin to a cannon and no one up for a little late-night drunken target practice was shooting that fast.

The timing was too coincidental. Those were professional shots taken in the middle of nowhere mere minutes after I’d stopped for the night. I didn’t know what I’d find out there if I went looking for it, but my best guess was that it was going to come for me if I didn’t find it first, and I didn’t need anything to accelerate Ann’s heart rate right now. I cursed silently to myself and hooked my quiver to my side and strung up my bow before slamming the trunk and dashing off towards the source and away from Ann.

I sprinted across the street in an instant. After the hotel, there was only one building between me and the vast expanse of the Arizona desert. And it was there, illuminated clearly by a full moon on a cloudless night that I saw him. His back was to me, but he was tall, six and a half feet at least, wearing a well-worn brown leather duster that looked like it had seen hell and survived. And in his hand at his side was a revolver gripped tightly in his fist. But that wasn’t all I could see in the moonlight.

At his feet was the broken remains of Birdie’s shattered birdcage, and next to it was her corpse.

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