Nirvana Effect

55



Cali’s house had several lights on when Edward first saw it. She had left them on during the day while she was at work, probably as a security measure. And at Seacrest’s, Edward remembered the same.

Edward tossed this around in his mind. Cali may have turned the lights off at her house before she left, but the only people that could have changed Seacrest’s lights were the Onge.

The Onge are definitely still there. No tribesman would have bothered to switch a light off to save electricity. There were many tactical reasons for it to look like no one’s home. Chief among them: the fact that someone’s home.

Edward grasped for something else he could learn from what he’d already learned. He wished he could discern Cali’s situation. It seemed that if only he were in the trance, some telltale clue would present itself.

He wanted God to tap him on the shoulder and whisper in his ear, “Cali’s in Seacrest’s house, in the third room to the right. You can get in through the side window and save her.”

He doubted there would be any divine intervention today. He’d have to use his logic, despite his weariness. He backtracked several houses and then crossed the street to Cali’s row.

Now that he knew the disposition of Seacrest’s residence, he needed to know what was happening at Cali’s. He found an empty driveway and followed it all the way back, hopping a fence into the same jungle area where he’d chased Tomy the night before.

He leaned out of the foliage see through the windows facing Cali’s back yard. The glare kept him from seeing all the way inside. There didn’t seem to be any motion, however. Outside, he saw no signs of activity: no cars, no footprints. The whole neighborhood felt abnormally still. Edward checked the sun. It would be many more hours before the workaday crowd started making its way back to this community.

Edward gripped the t-pill bottle in his pocket, then released it. It would be a lot easier. His eyes felt droopy despite the adrenaline flush in his veins. He maneuvered behind the tree closest to Cali’s back door, then calmly walked up to the house. He kept his eyes peeled for motion in the window but saw nothing. He tried the door handle; it was unlocked.

He hadn’t expected that. The door swung open easily and quietly. Edward froze. The doorknob slammed into the wall. He listened for a reaction, but heard nothing.

Edward stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He resisted the automatic impulse to rub his feet clean on the mat and walked light-footedly to the kitchen. He’d never been able to walk quietly, before, but he poured his attention into his feet, tweaking their position and the shifting of his weight until no sound came from his steps. Cat-like, he reached the opening of the living area and leaned his head around the corner. He positioned his body so that he could respond to an assault at any moment and quickly gain the initiative.

The living room was empty. Edward walked in. He was starting to relax. No one seemed to be here.

He looked out the window to the front yard of Seacrest’s residence. The house’s front door swung open. Edward dodged behind the curtains. He didn’t want to take any chances of being spotted.

Edward peered out as four dark men, two in casual tourist clothing and two in suits, stepped out of Seacrest’s front door. One of them had a paper in his hand. One toted a suitcase. The two in suits carried briefcases. They were obviously Onge. At least, that fact was obvious to Edward. Probably not to anyone else, though. He’d been right about some of Manassa’s plot. That fact was reassuring, although it felt akin to being able to predict the path of a boulder but not being able to step away.

The group entered a black sedan parked on the roadside and pulled away.

Edward started in the direction of the back door but stopped himself. Can’t just leave. Got to see if Cali left me any clues.

Got to rest. My mind just isn’t functioning.

He made a quick but thorough check of the house. He was glad he did. In the nightstand drawer, written in Cali’s hand in French: “Corvette had company. I have patients to tend to under the clinic. -C.”

The hope pushed an elation through Edward’s body that drowned out the exhaustion. Edward stuffed the letter in his pocket and sprinted out of the house back to the Corvette.

Seacrest wasn’t there.