Face Blind Page 14

  “Last time I offer you any melon.” Ben got out of range of his brother’s intercontinental ballistic glare, veering around to the back of the vehicle and not at all surprised to find that he’d lost his appetite. The truth was clear enough: It wasn’t the last time. He’d go on offering whatever he thought Jonah might enjoy, regardless of their occasional spat. That was part of the code.

  Meanwhile, twenty feet away and oblivious to the conversation, Luke guzzled one of the bottles of soda Mira had bought. He held the thing in both hands, head tipped so far back he looked about to fall over.

  Suddenly inspired, Ben approached him. “Excuse me, sailor.”

  Luke wiped his mouth. “I’m not a sailor. I don’t even have a ship!”

  “Good point. You got a minute?”

  “You bet!”

  “Great. Do me a favor and read that word right”—he pointed at the bottle with his fork—“there.”

  Luke looked at the label as instructed. He squinted. “That’s a big word.”

  “Sort of.”

  “I don’t think I do words that big.”

  “You have no idea what it says?”

  “Um … C-something?”

  Ben knelt and, using his fork, printed ten letters in the dirt. Then he stood up.

  Luke gazed down at it. “Carbonated.”

  Ben shook his head, wanting to say so much but unsure where to begin. “How the hell do you do that?”

  Luke grinned. “I don’t do it, Ben. You do!”

  “Then what is it that I’m doing that makes you able to read?”

  “I dunno. Casting a spell. Making Martian magic.”

  “But this”—Ben tapped the bottle in Luke’s hand—“has nothing to do with Mars.”

  Luke stopped smiling. He took a step closer and looked up at Ben. “It all has to do with Mars.”

  “What do you mean? Tell me what you mean. I need to know.”

  Gabe emerged from the little house connected to the market, the screen door slamming behind him.

  Luke broke eye contact and waved. Whatever he might have said was lost.

  Ben wanted answers, but there would be no finding them right now. He saw the trouble written on Gabe’s face, even if Luke did not. “What’s wrong? Phone broken?”

  “Unfortunately, no.” Gabe’s eyes were heavy and red. “I couldn’t talk to the investigator in charge because he’s already en route to Mentiras, with a second team headed to ACEF to meet us, but of course all they’re going to find is a body, assuming that it’s still there when they arrive. A captain or somebody came on the line, and he wasn’t happy, to say the least. He told me…”

  “What? What did he say?”

  “That I’m officially a person of interest.”

  “A suspect?”

  “Not quite. Sort of like being the first runner-up to the suspect. He told me to stay put, and if I wasn’t here when they arrived, he’d authorize my arrest.”

  “But you haven’t done anything.”

  “Yeah? One, I call about a dead trespasser who vanishes by the time the cops arrive. Two, I find a dead boy with his arms and legs cut off. Three, I ring up again, this time with a story about a man who lives beneath a ghost town and dismembers living victims. And do I stop there? Am I content with the hat trick? Nope, because now I’m calling them again, saying there’s another body, but oh, by the way, we’re no longer at the scene because the five of us would rather take cover in a one-phone town and try to hide from a marksman murderer than hang out around the dead man waiting to get our heads blown off.”

  “I’d tell you to chill out, but I’m not very chill myself.”

  Luke looked from one of them to the other. “The policemen are coming?”

  “Eventually,” Gabe said. “We’re pretty far off the beaten path. But I guess if there’s a sheriff or something in this town, they’ll probably contact him.”

  “What about the embassy?” Ben suggested. “Should we get in touch with someone there?”

  “Couldn’t hurt. But you know what? Right now I’m too tired to care. The guy inside says there’s a church that lets hikers and hippies and people sleep upstairs. An off-road racing team was bunking there a few days ago. If I don’t get there in the next ten minutes, the cops’ll find me comatose on top of one of these vegetable crates.”

  “I could use a bit of shut-eye myself.”

  “I’m not tired at all!” Luke exclaimed.

  “Like I told you,” Gabe said with a companionable slap on the shoulder. “You the man.”

  Ben had no more taste for the melon. He stabbed his fork into its orange crater and left it for the flies. He returned to the car and listened as Gabe briefly updated Mira and Jonah, neither of whom appeared to take the news very well. They understood that they were becoming increasingly caught up in the wild tangles of Gabe’s ordeal.

  They drove to the opposite edge of town.

  Just what this place had looked like in its heyday, Ben couldn’t say. Most of the homes were abandoned, their windows devoid of glass. Like alien abductees, the people who lived there had left behind the detritus of their lives: a bent-up tricycle, an old Indian motorcycle with no engine, a single shoe hanging from a clothesline. Faces appeared in doorways, suspicion in their dark eyes. Ben couldn’t blame them. An expensive and shot-up British SUV could mean only trouble.

  The mission-style church was the only thing worthy of tourist attention. Ben didn’t find it surprising at all to see that it was called Our Lady of the Desert. He would have been disappointed had it been otherwise.

  “What are we doing here?” Luke asked as they swung open their doors.

  “Waiting,” Ben told him.

  “Waiting for what?”

  With a glance, Ben deferred to Gabe.

  Gabe only waved a hand. “For whatever happens next.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Mira opened her eyes and saw Christ.

  He reached down for her with fantastic compassion, though His feet were staked to a slab of wood and His skull bled from a barbed tiara. In her half-wakened state, Mira thought He looked a lot like the lead singer from Creedence Clearwater Revival. What was his name again?

  “Mira?”

  Damn, now the Son of Man was addressing her personally. What kind of oddball dream was this? Though she hadn’t attended Sunday school as a girl—getting up early on the weekends wasn’t Cathy Westbrook’s idea of sane behavior—Mira had gotten to know good old Gentile religion on her own. Still, she didn’t consider herself worthy of being on a first-name basis with the Prince of Peace. Then again, if He was in the mood for a little tête-à-tête, then Mira certainly had a few bones in need of picking.

  “Mira, wake up.”

  She blinked several times. Jesus retreated to a state of sculpture, eyes nothing but dollops of flaking paint. “Gabe?”

  “Hey.”

  She sat up. Hers was one of eight cots arrayed in neat rows in the church balcony. The congregation was too small to warrant the use of this upper area of worship, so the priest offered it to wayfarers as a means of supplementing the parish’s meager coffers. The first thing she thought about was Eduardo. She hadn’t known him, but he’d died with his blood on her face.

  “Where’s your brother?”

  She rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?”

  “About eleven a.m.”

  Eleven o’clock meant she’d been asleep for less than four hours. Somehow that was worse than not getting any sleep at all. Her mouth felt full of ash.

  “Ben and Luke are gone,” Gabe said.

  “I know. They woke me up and said—” She yawned, only remembering to cover her mouth halfway through. “Sorry. I’m not always very ladylike in the morning.”

  He flashed a smile. “Ladylike is boring. Emily Post probably didn’t get many dates.”

  “Sounds like a kindred spirit.”

  “You and Emily? Hardly. I don’t think anyone would ever call you boring.”

  “
I assure you that eluding men with guns isn’t my normal routine.”

  “You drove like a pro.”

  “I’m sure you’re confusing pro with terrified ninny, but thanks. How did he follow us that far, anyway?”

  “He must have had a motorcycle or something stashed in one of the buildings. A getaway vehicle, you know? We drove with the lights off for the first few miles, but after that, I guess our taillights would’ve been visible. Besides, he could have trailed us by the sound of the engine. It’s awfully quiet out there.”

  Mira supposed that made sense. “Have you checked on Jonah?”

  “Downstairs staring out the window. He’s pretty shaken up.”

  “That makes two of us. And the police?”

  “Not here yet. We’re way out in the boondocks. It’s kind of like being in the middle of Siberia. Besides, between probing Mentiras and trying to locate the rifleman at ACEF, their personnel are probably spread too thin.”

  “They’ll find him, won’t they?”

  “There’s a lot of desert out there.”

  “You don’t sound very hopeful.”

  “It depends on how many resources they’re willing to commit. They’ll need more than a single chopper or plane to cover that much territory.”

  “Something tells me that they’re going to be taking it all very seriously after they see Eduardo and the … the woman you found.”

  “Yeah, that’s what worries me. I wouldn’t be surprised if I ended up in handcuffs the next time they see me.”

  “But you’re not—”

  “Without that guy in custody, I’m the best thing they’ve got. But I’m trying not to think about it. Tell me about Luke and Ben.”

  “They took a walk. My brother’s never been much of a sleeper, and Ben suggested they do some experiments together, maybe learn a bit more about the reading.”

  “Reading?”

  “Long story. Long and bizarre story, actually. Suffice it to say that Ben has a knack for bypassing my brother’s learning disability. They woke me up and said they needed to get in touch with Mars or some kind of crazy talk like that. I told them to be safe, but other than that, I was too tired to worry about it.”

  Gabe was silent for a moment, and Mira wondered if he’d heard her at all. Though he needed some time with hot water and a razor, underneath the dust was a face that Mira had to admit was attractive. Or was it just the intensity of their situation that made his smile so inviting?

  He turned his pale blue eyes toward her and said, “I need a computer.”

  “The Internet?”

  “Yeah. There’s a man, Micha Lepin, he used to be a member of something called DINA, part of the Chilean intelligence community. I think he’s involved with what’s going on here. That woman that Luke and I found…” He shook his head as if still trying to elude the memory. “She was a piece of the puzzle, too. She wasn’t just a random victim.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “I don’t. I may be totally wrong.”

  “Fair enough. Next question. How do you plan on getting an Internet connection way out here? These people don’t even have television.”

  “We’re in a church. Maybe I’ll pray.”

  “I wasn’t aware that God answered requests for broadband.”

  “You should try it sometime.”

  “With my luck? He’d probably just stick me with dial-up.”

  “Are you always so irreverent when you wake up in the morning?”

  “Hang around till noon. I upgrade from irreverent to sacrilegious.”

  Gabe laughed.

  Mira permitted herself a smile, surprised by her sudden penchant for banter. She didn’t normally have that effect on people.

  Gabe sobered quickly. “Hey, listen. I’m sorry for getting you guys into this. That man, Eduardo, he’s dead because of me.”

  “No, he’s dead because a sociopath shot him. You don’t get to take the blame for that.”

  “That sociopath wouldn’t have been anywhere around if I hadn’t provoked him.”

  “You and Luke both. But do you think my brother is blaming himself?”

  Gabe looked away.

  “No, he’s not,” Mira said, driving home her point. “It’s amazing how much I’ve learned from him. And thanks, by the way, for not treating him like a child. Most people do.”

  “Most people do a lot of things I don’t do. You want to know a secret?”

  Mira, intrigued, nodded once. “Definitely.”

  “How we treat people is based on their faces. If a good-looking stranger comes up to you and asks you for a favor, you’re more likely to say yes than if they’re ugly or old or disfigured.”

  “Is that true?”

  “You tell me.”

  “And you don’t operate that way? You’re not a sucker for a pretty face?”

  He looked at her intently. Mira sensed that she’d found another layer of the secret. “I wish that I was. I really do.” He turned away and jabbed a thumb at the narrow staircase leading from the balcony. “Come on. I think I have an idea where we can find that Internet connection without having to bother God about it.”

  Though Mira had been fatigued only minutes ago, a new energy passed through her, lightening her bones. And though she would’ve given her kingdom for a toothbrush, she figured this was no time to get hung up on little things like hygiene. “We should probably leave a note.”

  “We’ll tell Jonah where we’re going in case they come back while we’re gone. Good enough?”

  “Sure. It’s just habit, you know, looking after him.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” Gabe said, heading down the steps, “but from what I’ve seen, Luke is one dude who can take care of himself.”

  Mira had never heard anyone say such a thing. She slowed her steps, letting it fill her up.

  Gabe looked back. “Something wrong?”

  After a moment she shook her head, simply enjoying the feeling. “Nothing at all.”

  * * *

  Ben carved prophecies in the sand.

  MARS IS HELL …

  ONLY WAITING FOR OUR ARRIVAL BEFORE IT BURSTS INTO BRIMSTONE AND FIRE

  Luke walked among the foot-long letters and read the words aloud, concluding with “Hell is sort of a bad word, isn’t it?”

  “Depends on how you’re using it.” He pointed at the quotation with the stick he’d used to inscribe it. “You know who said that?”

  “You said it.”

  “I mean originally. A man named Ray Bradbury wrote those words. Do you know who he is?”

  “Nope.”

  “He’s the king of Mars.”

  Luke made a face. “Mars has a king?”

  “You bet. Mr. Bradbury thought maybe the rest of us would listen if he took us to Mars in order to show us how to solve our problems. You know what else he said? That the reason we’re so fond of our red cousin is because we wonder about our own past and worry about our own future.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “He’s saying we’re connected.”

  “To Mars?”

  “That’s right. And to one another. We’re just too caught up in ourselves to realize it.” As the sun climbed higher, Ben went back to work with his stick, slicing letters into the ground. “This one isn’t Bradbury. This one is pure Benjamin Langston Cable.”

  WE WILL BE TRULY SAVED ONLY WHEN _____ ON MARS

  “‘We will be truly saved,’” Luke read, “‘only when something on Mars.’” He shrugged. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “What’s the missing word?”

  “I don’t know that.” He laughed. “You wrote it.”

  “Take a guess.”

  “But my guesser doesn’t work with words. I hate Scrabble.”

  “You don’t have any ideas? I think it’s safe to say that you’ve read my hackneyed prose more times than anyone. And you can’t fill in the blank? Give it another look. Try again.”

  Luke put his h
ands on his wide hips and bent over, reading with intentional slowness. “We. Will. Be. Truly. Saved. When.” He wagged his finger at the ground. “You darn word! What are you?”

  Ben sighed. He’d followed a half-baked hunch, though apparently it had misguided him. But there had to be an explanation for Luke’s ability to read Ben’s writing. If he could only—

  “Baptized!” Luke blurted. “Is that the word, Ben, is that the right word?”

  Ben would not have been more startled had Luke found a chunk of raw gold lying on the desert floor. He opened his mouth but had no words to express his sense of wonder. “That’s right. Baptized. I … I don’t know what to say.”

  “Shit is holy?”

  A smile shook Ben’s face with its force. “That’s exactly right. Shit is holy.”

  Luke clapped his hands. “What’s next? More! More!”

  Rolling now, Ben leaped to an unblemished section of ground and scrawled

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Behold, my young compadre, the two most powerful words in fiction.”

  “Chapter one?”

  “You bet your mind-reading ass, chapter one. Now get that book out of your pocket.”

  Luke did as instructed, taking This Mayflower Mars from the leg of his cargo pants.

  “Open it up to the last page.”

  Luke’s thick fingers slowly located the proper place. “Now what?”

  “Now what? Well, read, of course. The last paragraph will be enough.”

  Luke took a breath and dove into the final scene, what Ben’s editor had called the conclusion of the denouement and what Ben had always thought of as the Obligatory Sappy Send-off. “‘At Dycar’s grave they gathered, suits running hot to fight the cold, hands clasped to fight the isolation. That’s what Dycar had died to save them from: being alone. Tilanna knew it wasn’t the stygian temperatures or the plaintive winds that drove settlers mad on the escarpments of Hellas Basin. These things could be battled. But only Dycar—foolish, irritating, unstoppable Dycar—had owned a spirit capable of driving loneliness into a box canyon so that the others could pass. They knew this now, and until they died they would be both haunted and emboldened by it.’”

  Luke closed the book. “The end.”