Riptide - Page 116/134

“Yep. Somebody so close he’s nearly wearing his skin. We’re nearly there, Becca. The timing of his visits —they’re in the early fall or very late spring. Every one of them.”

“Like the beginning or the ending of school terms,” Becca said slowly. “And then they stop like there’s no more school.” Then she remembered what had happened in the gym in Riptide, and it all fell together.

When they got back to Thomas’s house, only Thomas and Hatch were there, their conversation desultory, both of them looking so depressed that Adam nearly told Hatch to go smoke a cigarette. Becca heard Hatch cursing. It sounded like Paul Hogan and his sexy Aussie accent.

“Cheer up, everyone,” Adam said. “Becca and I have a surprise for you. One that will get you dancing on the ceiling. All we’ve got to do now is have Savich turn on MAX and send him to England. Now we’ve got a chance.” He bent down and kissed Becca, right in front of Thomas. She raised her hand and lightly touched her fingertips to his cheek. “Yes, we do,” she said.

The doorbell rang, making everyone suddenly very alert and very focused. It was Dr. Breaker. “Hello, Savich.” He nodded to everyone else. “We’ve found something none of you is going to believe.” And he told them about the very slight abnormalities in Becca’s blood that a tech had caught. Then he checked Becca’s shoulder, and finally he checked her upper arm. It wasn’t long before he looked up and said, “I feel something, right here, just beneath her skin. It’s small, flexible.”

Adam nodded. “The visit to Riptide makes sense now. You know what’s in your arm, don’t you, Becca?”

“Yes,” she said. “Now all of us know.” She raised her hand when her father would have begun arguments. “No, I’m not leaving. No more people are going to die in my place, like Agent Marlane. No one is going to be bait in my stead. No, no arguments. I stay here with you. Hey, I’ve got my Coonan.”

For the first time in more nights than she could count, Becca wanted to stay awake, stay alert, keep watch. He was close. She wanted to see him with clear eyes and a clear mind and her Coonan in her hand. She wanted to shoot him between the eyes. And she wanted to know why he was doing this. Was he really mad? Psychotic?

Oh damn, she didn’t think she’d be able to hang on. She was nearly light-headed she was so tired. She’d been so hyped up the past couple of nights, she’d just lain there and blinked at the rising moon outside the bedroom window.

Adam had insisted on tucking her in. She wanted him to stay just a little longer, but she knew he couldn’t. He kissed her, just a nibble on her earlobe, and said against her ear, “No, I don’t want another cold shower. But dream of me, Becca, okay? I’ve got the first watch. It starts soon.”

“Be careful, Adam.”

“I will, everyone will. Try to sleep, sweetheart. He knows the house. He knows which room is Thomas’s. We’ve got Thomas well guarded.” He kissed her once again and rose. “Get some sleep.”

She didn’t want to. After he eased out of her bedroom door, closing it quietly behind him, she sat up in bed, thinking, remembering, analyzing. She was asleep in under six minutes. She dreamed, but not of the terror that was very close now, not of Adam.

She found herself in a hospital, walking down long, empty corridors. White, so much white, unending, going on and on, forever. She was looking for her mother. She smelled ether fumes, sweet and heavy, the ammonia scent of urine, the stench of vomit. She opened each white door along the corridor. All the beds were empty, the white sheets stretched military tight. No one. Where were the patients?

So long, the hallway just went on and on and there were moans coming from behind all those doors, people in pain, but there were no nurses, no doctors, no one at all. She knew the rooms were empty, she’d looked into all of them, yet the moans grew louder and louder.

Where was her mother? She called out for her, then she started running down the corridor, screaming her mother’s name. The moans from those empty rooms grew louder and louder until—

“Hello, Rebecca.”

29

Becca lurched up in bed, sweaty, breathing hard, her heart pounding. No, it wasn’t her mother, no, it was someone else.

Finally he was here. He’d come to her first, not to her father. A surprise, but not a big one, at least to her. She lay very still, gathering herself, her control, her focus.

“Hello, Rebecca,” he said again, this time he was even closer to her face, nearly touching her.