River: Ghosts Of Our Fathers Part 7

"No, I meant about the gift," Daniel said.

"Oh," Steven said. "No. He doesn't. At least as far as I know."

"Do you think he has it?"

"What, the gift?"

"Yes."

"To be honest with you I hadn't really thought about it."

"I see. Best to just keep him out of this?"

"Well yes, to the extent he can be."

"That's how I feel about Troy," Daniel said, "though it's Eliza's decision, of course. I suppose it's the natural desire to protect your children. But if it turns out he has the gift, I struggle with how appropriate it is to deny him the knowledge to develop it. I mean, if you found out your kid had some special skill, like he was a really good baseball player, you would encourage him to play little league, right? You wouldn't pretend little league doesn't exist, or worse, bar him from playing it? That would seem cruel."

"I suppose so," Steven said. "Hadn't thought of it that way."

"The gift is like being a prodigy in some ways," Daniel said. "They take prodigies out of grade school and put them in college courses so they can advance. Leaving them in elementary schools just stunts them, frustrates them."

"I'm confused," Steven said. "So you would or you wouldn't teach Troy how to develop his gift?"

"I'm saying I struggle with that," Daniel said. "If he even has it. Eliza doesn't tell me much about him. But I do wonder."

"Last time I saw him, his interest seemed to rest squarely in video games."

Daniel smiled. "I sent him that Xbox. Eliza was p.i.s.sed but she let him keep it. She told him she won it in a contest."

"I hope I'm not betraying a confidence, but she told me she doesn't know when she'll tell Troy."

"That doesn't surprise me. Sounds like she's right where I am. Thanks for telling me. I'll keep that bit of information to myself."

"We're getting close to my father's place," Steven said. "Do you mind if we swing by and see if he's returned from his trip?"

"Not at all," Daniel said.

"No job to get back to?" Steven asked.

"I'm a writer," Daniel said. "I can make anything work."

Roy looked a little sunburnt.

"How was the trip?" Steven asked.

"Relaxing as h.e.l.l," Roy said. "Dixon knows how to kick back, let me tell you. He's perfected the act of relaxation to an art."

"Glad to hear it," Steven said. "This is Daniel. He's been helping me while you've been gone."

Roy and Daniel shook hands. "Helping him, are you?" Roy asked. "Sounds like something's up. Well, follow me into the kitchen and you can tell me about it. I have a few things to unpack."

They both followed Roy. Steven took a seat at the kitchen table and motioned for Daniel to sit as well. Roy began unpacking several plastic bags. He pulled out a beautiful large sh.e.l.l and handed it to Steven.

"Look at this!" Roy said. "An animal lived in that thing. Dixon hit the sh.e.l.l like this," he grabbed the sh.e.l.l back to demonstrate, "and the thing crawled out. Dixon stabbed it and we barbequed it for dinner. Delicious." He handed the sh.e.l.l back. "Beautiful, right?"

"It's a conch," Steven said, turning the sh.e.l.l in his hand.

"I don't remember what the h.e.l.l Dixon called it," Roy said. "And look at this!" He pulled two large bottles of dark liquid out of the bags. "Local rum! Want a taste?"

"Later, Dad," Steven said. "Listen, I want to hear all about the trip but we need to talk to you."

"What's up?" Roy asked, still pulling items out of bags and placing them on the counter.

"Your father, David, p.i.s.sed off a man eighty years ago by imprisoning him in a soul cage. Now he's getting out and coming after me. After us."

Roy stopped emptying the bags and stood still, staring at the kitchen cabinets. He didn't turn to look at Steven.

"Frank Wilmon," Roy said, his enthusiasm gone. "Am I right?"

"How'd you know?" Steven said.

Roy returned to unpacking the bags. "My father wrote about him in his book. One of the first things I was ever able to read in that book, because he told me all about him. Frank was one of the first times my father used his gift. He was afraid of Frank and wanted me to know about him."

"And you never thought to tell me?" Steven said.

"It didn't seem relevant," Roy said. "Just a story my dad told me."

"Well, that story had his hand around my neck the other night," Steven said. "He threatened to kill me. With you gone I needed some help, and Eliza referred me to Daniel here. He and I tracked down one of Frank's kids, an old man named Garth. He lives in Olympia. We just came from there. He told us the whole story."

"Why don't you take a deep breath," Roy said, continuing to unpack, "and start from the top. Tell me everything that's gone on."

Steven and Daniel relayed the entire story, starting with Steven's first visit from Frank through all the details of Garth's experiences.

"You'd think Frank would start with you instead of me," Steven said, "being David's son."

"I was out on the water," Roy said. "That's why he couldn't reach me. What about Jason?"

"I have a call out to him, waiting to hear back."

"So you're an expert on time, Daniel?" Roy asked.

"Well, I do know something about it. I've studied it over the years," Daniel said.

"What do you think?" Roy asked him.

"Well," Daniel said, "I think it's very dangerous. The cage is definitely collapsing. I figure there's 48 hours left before he's completely free. And he's picked up some skills while he's been in there. Steven's skin was undulating and twisting where Frank had grabbed him. His touch left some residual power that was very disturbing. It might have been very small-scale time s.h.i.+fting on a molecular level."

"Time s.h.i.+fting?" Roy asked.

"The cells of the skin each moving backward and forward in time, by just a split second. It would make it appear that it was moving when viewed in normal linear time."

"Sounds bizarre," Roy said.

"It's dangerous. It's hard enough for a human to handle a s.h.i.+ft in time if your whole body is involved. What he did caused a piece of Steven to be out of sync with the rest of him. If he could cause that effect on a wider area, say on a vital organ like your heart or your brain, it would probably kill you."

Daniel paused. "In fact, that might be the technique of the soul cage. That might be how his soul was removed from him. He might have found a way to use the same power that entrapped him."

"So the cage might not be expiring," Steven said, "he might be destroying it from within?"

"Maybe," Daniel said. "Impossible to know for sure without more information on the cage itself."

"I like this guy," Roy said to Steven, nodding toward Daniel. "He knows his s.h.i.+t. And any friend of Eliza's is a friend of mine."

"He's been invaluable," Steven said. "Without you here I was kind of lost."

"We need to talk to that face in the junk pile," Roy said. "That's our next move. We need to know where the garage is."

"I can call Garth," Steven said. At that moment Steven's cell phone rang. He looked at the display.

"It's Jason, let me take this," he said, rising and walking into the other room. Roy and Daniel listened to half of the conversation but couldn't tell what was going on.

Steven returned from the other room. "Jason is at my house, waiting for me to get home. Daniel, can you make contact with Garth and find out the location of that garage? I'm going to go over to my house and talk with Jason."

"I'll come with you," Roy said.

"No, I want to talk to him alone," Steven said. "Daniel, are you up for going with us to visit the garage?"

"Absolutely," Daniel said, "if you want me along."

"I do," Steven said. "Dad, can Daniel stay here with you while I go do this? I'm not sure where the conversation with Jason will go but I want to do this on my own."

"Sure," Roy said. "He can stay."

"And Dad," Steven said, "can I take all the protection you've got sitting around? I'm going to ask Jason to take some."

"Sure, let me round it up," Roy said, turning towards a cabinet.

"Would that device you gave me work with Jason?" Steven asked Daniel.

"Yes, it should," Daniel said. "Same instructions I gave you. Don't let it get taken away. You have to keep it close. I can give you another one I have several in my backpack in the car."

"What about the protection you gave me? Any more of that?" Steven asked.

"I think your father's protection is probably stronger than mine," Daniel said. "I'd use that."

Roy returned with two large Mason jars filled with a clear liquid. "I made a ton when we were dealing with Jurgen," he said. He handed them to Steven.

"Thanks. Would you mind whipping up some more for you and me? We're going to need it too."

"Sure, I can make more while you're gone."

"Can I watch?" Daniel asked.

"Of course not," Roy said. "My father told me to never show anyone how it's made, except when I pa.s.s it along to Steven here. Family secret."

"Daniel tells me it's pretty potent," Steven said. "He a.n.a.lyzed it in his lab in Spokane."

"More variants than I've ever seen," Daniel said.

"One of my father's obsessions was this protection," Roy said. "He inherited the recipe from his dad, of course, but he refined it for years, modifying it, making it stronger. Gave me his recipe just before he died. I've been making it exactly the same way since then."

"I'm leaving to go meet Jason," Steven said. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Steven took the two Mason jars and left.

When Steven saw Jason, he was immediately concerned. Jason was just an inch shorter than him, but thinner and more muscular. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a dimpled chin that drove girls crazy. Jason had always been a good kid, a mother's boy, kind to everyone and everyone liked him back. His success in soccer helped him with a scholars.h.i.+p to the university and he always seemed healthy and fit. Not today.

Steven inspected the bruises on Jason's neck. At first he thought they might be hickeys but upon closer inspection he could see they went all the way around his neck, even to the back. Jason was clearing his throat often and seemed run down and tired.

"Tell me what happened," Steven said.

Jason s.h.i.+fted from foot to foot while his dad continued inspecting his neck. "I thought someone was playing a prank," he said. "I was dreaming I couldn't breathe. I woke up and found this. I thought maybe one of my roommates had snuck in and strangled me as a joke."

"This is no joke," Steven said. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes," Jason said, "every time I swallow, and when I turn my head to the extreme right or left."

Standing behind Jason, Steven surrept.i.tiously dropped into the flow and watched the bruises for any unusual sign, any s.h.i.+fting of the skin that might mimic the strange movement he'd seen on his own skin. There didn't appear to be any. He exited the flow quickly. The effect had disappeared on his own skin after a short while following the attack, so it might have already pa.s.sed on Jason too.

"You don't remember anything? Any one in the room with you? A man? Gla.s.s?"

"Gla.s.s?" Jason said. "What are you talking about?"

"I've had the same problem, the last three nights. My sleep has been disturbed. But I woke up to see what it was, while it was happening. I was attacked." Steven pulled his collar down to show Jason the bruising on his neck. "I believe the same person attacked you."

"What?" Jason said. "How can that be? Who?"

"The who and the why are long stories that aren't relevant at the moment. The main thing to know is that you, I, and your grandfather, Roy, are all under attack."

"Under attack? What are you talking about?" Jason was looking at Steven funny, concerned that his father had gone off his rocker.

"Let me put it this way," Steven said, stopping to take a breath. "An ancestor of ours committed a crime against this man, or so he thinks, and he's exacting revenge by coming after Roy, myself, and you. Roy and I are working on a way to stop him. Until we do, this is a dangerous threat, and I believe our lives are at risk. I'm going to need you to do a few things to protect yourself."

"I've already got a shotgun, Dad," Jason said.