Uncanny Collateral

Chapter 15

We arrived at a nameless little beach on the coast of South Carolina at about six o’clock in the morning. The very first rays of the sun were visible over the rolling ocean, and as I pulled into the parking lot, I stopped to look at Maggie’s small form curled up in the passenger seat. Her face was serene, the wrinkles gone. A little real-world sleep had returned her strength in a way that I could only be jealous of. My own body was a mess. Breathing hurt. Talking hurt. Driving hurt. I’d almost passed out three times on the drive down, but I’d be damned if I ever told Maggie that.

I gently touched her shoulder and watched her eyes flicker open.

She sat up slowly. “Where are we?” she asked, and froze in midstretch as she spotted the beach. She let out the kind of squeal one might expect from a little girl opening Christmas presents rather than from a seven-hundred-year-old jinn. She threw the car door open, stripped off her pilfered hoodie, and ran naked toward the beach, diving into an oncoming wave without hesitation.

I couldn’t help but grin as I slowly pulled myself out of the car and walked gingerly out onto the sand. Someone had left behind a folding beach chair. I sank into it and put my head back, watching Maggie as she frolicked in the surf like a kid. I lay there peacefully as the sun rose, until I felt the heat of my barcode suddenly cut through all my other pains.

I pulled out my phone. It was crusted with dried blood that I had to wipe away to see that I had nine messages from the past twenty-four hours. One was from Justin, two from Nadine, and six were from Ada. A shiver of fear went through my belly that I’d somehow screwed up – that the job wasn’t finished and she was going to kill me for running out in the middle of work. My mouth dry, I dialed her number.

“Where the hell are you?” she asked.

“I’m in South Carolina,” I told her.

“Excuse me?”

“I had a promise to keep to a friend.”

I could feel her glaring through the phone. “Ferryman called last night,” she said without pressing further.

“And?”

“He paid in full. He said you did an amazing job and that I should treat you better.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I don’t disagree,” I replied.

“Whatever. Don’t be a prick about it. He said you’re hurt?”

“Yeah. Some cuts. Probably a bunch of cracked bones. A lot of blunt-force trauma.”

“What did you fight that can crack your bones?”

“A ghoul.”

“I don’t know what the hell that is.” She gave a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. You have the next five days off. I expect you back in the office by Thursday. And you can…” she muttered something under her breath.

“I can what?” I asked. Five days? That was unheard of. Ferryman must have paid her an absolute fortune.

“You can have bank holidays off this year. Ferryman’s request. Seems he knows about our little arrangement and thought I should throw you a bone. This year only, mind! Enjoy your damn trip.” She hung up.

I checked Nadine’s messages, but she was just trying to let me know that Ada was looking for me. Finally, I listened to the message from Justin. It was from Thursday morning.

“Hey, bud,” it said. “Mission accomplished. You necromancer buddy demanded his phone call about half hour after you left. He talked to a woman named Kimberly Donavon. From the sound of things, she’s definitely the one who hired him. Normally, we’d go after her ourselves right away, but I figured you might want first stab, so I put it off until Wednesday. Nick is back in solitary, so she has no idea you’re coming. I texted you her address.”

I called him back and thanked him, making sure that I still had the rest of the weekend before OtherOps made their move. I did.

Maggie returned, dripping, a half hour later. I was half asleep when she dropped none-so-gently into my lap.

“Ow!” I said.

“Oh! Sorry about that.” She grinned at me. “I haven’t been swimming for five centuries, Alek. Five centuries!” She leapt back to her feet, throwing her hands in the air. The wind whipped off the Atlantic, but she barely seemed to notice the spring cold.

“Sorry we’ve blown through most of your anniversary,” I said, glancing at the clock on my phone. “What do you want to do for the rest of it?”

“You sure you don’t need a hospital?” she said, sobering.

“I think I can get through another six or seven hours.”

“Good. Let’s get shit-faced and spend the rest of the morning in a hammock.”

“That,” I said, “is the best idea I’ve ever heard.”