Guise Page 4

  “Ow,” hissed Darwin, flinching from her touch. “It's okay. Just a bump. What happened?”

  “Later,” she said, helping him to his feet. “Right now, I'm going to take you back to your place. Then I'm coming back here and cleaning things up. After that, we can continue our talk.”

  “What happened with …” began Darwin before stopping. He looked around the office, taking in the carnage. His stomach heaving, he turned and vomited noisily. After a few minutes of dry heaving, he rose from his knees and wiped a shaky hand across his mouth.

  “Did you,” he began to ask before catching sight of Martin’s headless corpse. His eyes grew wide and his breath started coming out in ragged gasps. Gulping, he glanced away, only to focus on the leader, laying on his side with a knife in his throat.

  “I don’t feel so good,” mumbled Darwin.

  Patience caught him as his eyes rolled up into his head and he slumped, unconscious. Lifting Darwin in her arms, she carried him to the chair behind her desk. Gently, she set him down. She checked that he was okay, just overcome by shock.

  Frowning, she walked over to the body keeping the back door open. She pulled it inside, glancing around to see if anyone was about. As expected, it was quiet. There was a reason she had established her office in this area. Of course, this kind of violence hadn’t really been part of that plan.

  She closed the door behind her, cutting off the bright sunshine. Moving purposefully, Patience headed into the waiting room and locked the front door. It wouldn’t do to have a potential client walk in right at the moment.

  Going back to the office, she stopped in the doorway. Naturally, she would check the bodies, but she didn’t expect to find much. The window would need replacing. A sheet of plastic and some duct tape from one of the lockers would do as a temporary repair. The office door would need to be replaced, as well as the doorframe. Cleaning the place would be a chore, but she had been thinking of repainting anyway.

  And then there were the bodies.

  “I hope the dumpster out back is big enough,” she said.

  CHAPTER 05

  Darwin swallowed the aspirin, crumpled the paper cup and tossed it into the wastebasket. He still had a killer headache, but the aspirin should help with that, eventually.

  He looked at himself in the medicine cabinet mirror. A stubble of growth covered his chin and cheeks. His green eyes looked fatigued, with the beginnings of dark circles setting in beneath them. His reddish-brown hair lay in an unruly mop atop his head. Rubbing a finger along the slight bump on his nose, he shook his head ruefully.

  He was having trouble accepting the events of the past hour. Had people really tried to kidnap him? Had the woman sitting in his living room really killed them? Could it be possible that she wasn’t crazy after all? Was what she had told him true?

  About the only thing I do know is that I have no idea what is happening.

  Sighing, Darwin left the bathroom and headed back to the living room. He heard water running in the kitchen. He headed there.

  “Oh my God!”

  Patience stood by the sink with her shirt laying on the counter. She was using a hand towel to clean an ugly ragged gash on her left side. A purpling bruise haloed the gash, blood leaking from the torn edges.

  “It looks worse than it is,” said Patience, without looking up.

  “Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?” asked Darwin.

  “It's only a flesh wound. It may look bad, but I'll be okay.”

  “A flesh wound? As in you got shot?”

  “Grazed really,” she confirmed, rinsing the towel before cleaning the wound further. She pressed the damp towel over the wound to staunch the flow of blood.

  “You have any gauze?”

  “I should,” said Darwin, heading back to the bathroom. He returned carrying gauze, bandages, tape, an elastic bandage, scissors, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a tube of antibacterial cream. He dumped his arm full of medical supplies onto the counter next to Patience’s shirt.

  “Let’s take a look at that,” he said, bending over to get a better look at her wound.

  “Sure,” she answered. She relinquished the towel to Darwin and raised her arm over her head to give him clear access to her side.

  Darwin hissed as he examined the gash. He cautiously dabbed at it with the towel before setting that aside. He picked up the hydrogen peroxide and splashed some out onto a clean corner of the towel.

  “This might sting,” he warned her, gingerly applying the antiseptic to her wound. Surprisingly, the injury did not foam. Doing a second pass, Darwin set aside the towel, satisfied. He picked up the antibiotic cream and applied a liberal does to the gash.

  With the wound cleaned and treated, Darwin tore open a couple of large gauze pads and gently placed them over the gash. He tore off some strips of tape and secured the gauze. He picked up the roll of dark purple, self-adhering bandage and covered the gauze, wrapping the elastic bandage around her torso a few times.

  “Thank you,” said Patience, as Darwin finished his ministrations.

  “Shouldn't you go to the hospital?”

  “I'd rather avoid that, thanks. Too many questions I really can’t answer.”

  Darwin looked from the bandage to her face. In the process, it finally registered that she wasn’t wearing a shirt, only her bra. He gazed appreciatively at her revealed physique for a moment, before becoming embarrassed. Hastily, he looked away and began fumbling with the medical supplies he had brought out.

  Noticing his reaction, Patience smiled to herself.

  “Hand me my shirt?” she asked, letting a hint of her amusement color her tone.

  “Sure,” replied Darwin, passing it to her. He finished gathering the medical supplies and returned them to the bathroom as Patience dressed.

  “What now?” he asked, returning to the living room.

  “Well, that depends,” answered Patience, crossing her arms.

  “On?”

  “You. We never finished our talk. However, I think you may have heard enough, and definitely seen enough, to decide if you want to learn more. If you don't, I'll leave you alone as promised. I'll still try and protect you, but it will be a lot tougher.

  “I'm hoping you want to hear more. I'd really like to help you. Not just to stop them, although that is important, as we’ll hopefully discuss. I'd also like you to realize your potential.

  “More importantly, I feel like I know you from all the research I've done. Meeting you has only confirmed most of what I thought. You're an interesting guy. One I'd like to get to know better when this is all over.

  “If you're interested.”

  Darwin gaped at her, not knowing what to say. He felt his face turning red. Words died stillborn in his throat.

  “Tell you what,” said Patience before the silence stretched to an uncomfortable length. “Why don't I give you some time to think things over? You've been hit with a lot of information all at once. You probably need time to yourself to digest things.”

  Darwin nodded gratefully at the out provided to him.

  “I don't think they'll try again so soon after their first attempt to nab you,” said Patience, picking up her jacket from where she had tossed it on a chair. “They'll want to know what happened, and that should buy us some time.

  “Why don't I head back to my office and handle things from there? Maybe I can find something to give us a lead. I'll take care of that, you get cleaned up, and I will come back here later to see what you’ve decided. How about I come back around eight?”

  “Sure,” agreed Darwin, relief evident in his voice. “What are you going to tell the police?”

  “Nothing,” said Patience, heading to the door. “Getting them involved would only complicate things. Besides, they wouldn't believe the truth. One thing you're going to have to accept is that this situation falls outside the bounds of normal law enforcement. The fewer people involved, the better for all concerne
d.”

  Darwin mulled this over, clearly not convinced.

  “Okay, for now. At least until I have some time to think things through.”

  “Fair enough,” agreed Patience, opening the door. She paused in the doorway and faced Darwin.

  “I am glad you are okay. I would have preferred this hadn’t happened, but maybe it is for the best. We’ll see.”

  Darwin watched Patience descend the stairs before closing his door. He took a moment to rest his head against its cool surface. He closed his eyes against the throbbing in his head, wishing it away. The pain ignored his silent pleas.

  Sighing, he pushed himself from the door and headed for the couch. He dropped down and lay there face down. After a minute, he rolled onto his side. Grabbing the TV remote, he switched on the set and turned on an old B-movie. Letting the show play, he tried to relax.

  His thoughts raced aimlessly over the events of the morning, hopscotching across images and ideas. Patience in nothing but a towel. Psychic powers and men with guns. Yoki bouncing up the stairs. Patience biting her lip. Headless bodies. Bob laughing. Other dimensional beings. Patience’s necklace glittering against her dusky skin in the cleft of her --.

  Darwin sat up, head pounding harder than before. Obviously, he wasn’t going to figure anything out until his head either exploded from the pain, or the agony settled down to a merely horrific level.

  As he sat staring at the TV without really seeing it, his cat, Otaku, wandered into the room. The cat stopped and looked at him thoughtfully. Reaching out his front paws, the large fluffy feline stretched, letting out a huge yawn. He gave himself a shake and sat down. Having finished his stretch, he contemplated a paw, holding the limb before his eyes before giving it a tentative lick. Satisfied, he marched over to sit looking up at the bedraggled human on the couch.

  Deciding his owner looked as if he needed company, Otaku leaped onto the couch. Purring, he rubbed his head against a jean-clad leg, until a hand finally came out to scratch him behind the ears. Happy, he crawled into his favorite dozing place, Darwin's lap.

  “Well, you seem to be taking everything in stride,” said Darwin, smiling down into the squint-eyed face of the furiously purring animal. He gently stroked the cat, beginning to feel himself relax as he did.

  “I don't know Otaku,” he said after a while. “What do you think?”

  The cat declined to answer the ambiguous question.

  “Some of the things she said were a little over the top. Well, most of them. Let’s face it, what she said was out there, beyond Pluto out there. Still, there was something about her story that has me reluctant to dismiss it out of hand.

  “Yes, she is gorgeous. Lethal too. A very sexy combination. But madder than a hatter? Could be. That takes some of the shine off of the attraction.

  “What about those guys that came by? Would they have really killed her? And what were they going to do with me? Would they have done what she said?”

  The cat let out a sigh and rested his head on Darwin's knee, one paw dangling limply over the edge of the couch into the air. Obviously, he was not going to be bothered by the petty worries that were plaguing his owner.

  Darwin stopped petting the cat, letting his hand rest gently on the soft fur rising rhythmically with each sleepy breath. He allowed his thoughts to wander some more, before turning his attention to the TV program just as a wire suspended saucer attacked a cardboard city of the future.

  Darwin watched the rest of the movie without really seeing it. As he did, the aspirin finally dulled the pain in his head to the point where he felt nearly human once more. As the ending credits scrolled up the screen, Darwin stabbed the remote and killed the set.

  “Maybe work will help,” he whispered. He gently eased himself from under his sleeping pet, stooping to give him a quick light kiss on the head. Leaving the cat to his dreams, Darwin headed from the room.

  He padded over to his office and woke up his desktop machine. Logging into his e-mail, he saw that he had seven new messages. Two were from Bob, one reminding him of his promise for results Wednesday, and the other about the party on Friday. One was predictably from Margie, telling him how pleased she was that he would be there Friday, followed by a list of questions about his new girlfriend. He made a mental note to kill Bob later.

  He had a message from his brother wishing him a happy Halloween and asking about plans for Thanksgiving. There was a receipt for the quarterly billing of his latest online game. The next was a note he had forwarded to himself from his other account.

  The final message stood out from the pack. First, it had no subject. His SPAM filter should have captured that, but it had somehow missed it. Second, there was no sender information. He didn’t believe that was possible; however, here it was. Finally, the body consisted of just four lines:

  Psypher,

  Watch out for the woman.

  She is not what she appears to be.

  Succubus

  He read the short message several times. Like most of this day, the message made little sense. Psypher was a common username he had for accounts and online characters. He had no idea who Succubus was and what woman they were referring to. Was it Patience? That was the only one that made any sense, but why say “what” not “who”? Was she transgender and this person one of those small-minded haters?

  While Darwin pondered the message, his monitor blinked, and the e-mail was gone.

  “What the …” he said, staring at his screen. He quickly tried to locate some trace of the message, but he could find no evidence that it had ever existed.

  Great. Just what I needed. Another mystery.

  No longer in the mood to work, he leaned back in his chair. Contemplating what he should do, he decided to pursue a side project he had been toying with.

  While running through some sequences in the game he was testing parts of, he had noticed something. Well, not really noticed something so much as got a feeling. A feeling that there was something wrong in those scenes. He was by no means a graphics programmer, but he had jotted down where he had noticed the troubles, intending to come back and see if he could figure out what had given him a bad feeling about those scenes. Now seemed like as good a time as any to work on that. After all, his entire day seemed to be intended on giving him mysteries that made no sense.

  Digging out his notes, he loaded up the first of the sequences. He backed up a little and started the game. The display showed a combat sequence. The battle raged for a few minutes, running without input from him. When it finished, Darwin sat staring at the screen.

  There was nothing wrong with any of the pictures. The images were clear and crisp. The animation was good and everything looked fine. So why did it feel wrong? Darwin puzzled over this for a couple of moments before he moved on to the next section in his notes.

  He quickly repeated the process for each section in his list. Each one appeared to be like the first. Nothing looked wrong, but he felt uneasy viewing them. He couldn’t articulate why, but the scenes were off in some disturbing manner.

  Yawning, he leaned back and closed his eyes, dredging up each scene and trying to identify what it was that was rubbing him the wrong way. As he was doing this, he promptly fell asleep.

  With a start, he woke up to a room shrouded in fading sunlight. He rubbed his neck, stiff from sleeping sitting up. Blinking bleary eyes, he looked at the gear clock on the wall above his computer. The time read seven minutes after six.

  His brow started to crease, but memory snapped his eyebrows up to his forehead.

  He was late!

  CHAPTER 06

  “And here I thought you had forgotten all about me.”

  Darwin returned Yoki's smile.

  “Would I do that?” he asked innocently. “I was just giving you time to finish your painting.”

  “How did you know I was painting?” she asked, stepping back so that Darwin could enter.

  “Intuition,” he said, ru
bbing a thumb across one high cheekbone as he passed her. He displayed the smear of pale green paint on his thumb.

  “Butt,” she said, playfully punching him on the arm. She closed and locked the door. She wiped her cheek, checking to see that she had gotten any remaining paint.

  “I see some things have not changed,” she continued, moving to stand beside him. “You’re still a smartass.”

  “True,” he agreed amiably.

  “You'll have to come back after I get settled,” she said, walking him into the main area. “Right now, things are kind of a mess.”

  Darwin snorted.

  “How about I give you a quick tour,” she said, placing her hand on his arm. “After that, let me have a quick shower, and then we can get something to eat as I’m starving. After that, we can catch up. Sound good?”

  “Or,” he countered, “you give me a tour, and while you’re having a shower, I order magic food and we can catch up while we eat? I am pretty hungry myself.”

  “Forgot to eat again?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

  “No comment.”

  The two shared a laugh.

  “Deal,” she said. Yoki slid her arm through Darwin’s and started her tour. The main area had the couch he had seen the movers carrying into the place. A couple other bits of furniture were arranged in the large open space. A pile of neatly stacked boxes clearly labeled, stood in a corner of the room.

  She swung him to the right and showed him the kitchen area. Another tidy stack of neatly labeled boxes was arranged on the counter. The labels were a different color and the lettering was different as well. Drying paint tools, arranged in an orderly grid, were laid out on paper towels over cardboard strips.

  “I see you are still doing your calligraphy,” commented Darwin.

  “And,” interrupted Yoki, dragging him hurriedly through the kitchen and towards the rooms in the back of the condo, “there is no need for an OCD observation.”

  One room had freshly painted pale green walls with a dark azure accent wall. It held the beginnings of a home office setup. The other room was crammed with solid wire shelves, two clothes racks sheathed in heavy plastic, and a mountain of boxes taking up at least a third of the space. Many of the boxes were opened and partially unpacked. The chaos in the room was a distinct contrast to the remainder of the place.