Hollis smiled, then reached for his hand, their fingers twining instantly, and returned her gaze to the valley below. “Look again. You see what I see now?”
It took a moment during which his vision seemed to waver just a bit, but only that long before DeMarco did see what she saw.
“Jesus.”
“Yeah. I’m thinking that’s in no way natural.”
The entire valley appeared to be almost encased in a kind of . . . dome. Even though it was not close and they were still well above it, he could see it was high and curved, and that it . . . flashed here and there faintly, close on the underside of the dome-like shape, tiny sparks from this distance but what could easily have been like shimmering patterns of lightning lacing across the sky and hissing high above the town. High above the whole valley.
“Like an aura,” he said slowly, frowning. “Is it?”
“Damned if I know. Never seen one cover an entire town, much less an entire valley. The only thing I’m sure of is that it’s energy. A hell of a lot of energy.”
“Positive or negative?”
“If I had to guess,” she replied slowly, frowning, “and I do, I’d say it’s both.”
“Why does that sound bad?” DeMarco wondered, just as slowly.
“I dunno, but it does, doesn’t it? At least more . . . worrying, somehow. Maybe because dark energy is easier to sense, and almost always drives or enhances negative acts. An absolute. Something we’ve faced and fought before.”
“What about the positive energy?”
“If it’s had any reaction at all it’s helped most of us, usually. But . . . if positive and negative energy is caught down there, trapped together, I have no idea what effect it’s having on the people in the town, in the valley. Or what effect it’ll have on us. If what’s happened down there today is because of the energy, then it really is unlike anything we’ve ever faced before.”
“Hence the summons?”
“I’d guess yes. Though not knowing what actually did the summoning is still bothering me.”
“And me.” DeMarco stared at what Hollis’s abilities were showing him a bit longer, his gaze roving, then said, “Am I wrong, or is the outer edge of it more sharp and delineated than a normal aura? Almost like an actual dome made of glass or something.”
“You’re not wrong. It really does look like a glass dome. Like it’s holding the energy in, trapping it. Maybe just that, to keep it here. To keep it more contained. To keep it more powerful, more focused.” She shook her head. “I’ve only seen something similar with the auras of psychics who were fighting off attacking energy. And in those cases, I could see the energy battering at their shields. I don’t see anything outside this . . . dome. Just the energy inside it.”
“Is it increasing? Building up?”
“I think so.”
“Can you see a source?” he asked, still frowning slightly at the unique capture of sheer energy.
“Not from here.” She looked at her partner. “The thing is, whatever’s holding in the energy does seem to have made a dandy shield for it, not as tangible as actual glass but every bit as . . . enclosing. No telling how strong it is, how impenetrable, until we’re down there. I’m assuming we can get through unless and until we find out differently. But once we’re down there, once we’re inside, all that energy is bound to affect us even through our shields. I just don’t know how.”
He looked at her and smiled. “Once more into the breach.”
“You never used to say things like that,” she observed with her own faint smile. “At least, not that way.”
“Complaining?”
“No. Oh, no. It’s been interesting to hear more just-outside-New-Orleans in your voice these days.” Then, more soberly, she said, “I think we’d better use the phone in the SUV and call Bishop before we get any closer to that thing. I’ve got a hunch that communicating with Base may prove to be even more of a problem than usual.”
“The chief deputy and sheriff got through,” he noted.
“Yeah. From a landline in the sheriff’s office. I could be wrong, but I’m betting electronics are already being affected, especially communication. Which means it’s a good bet cell phones, if they work at all, won’t reach outside the valley even in the short amount of time we generally have to use them. I’m not even sure the sat phones will work. We may be restricted to using landlines ourselves.”
“And landlines are becoming more scarce in these days of cell communication. Could be a problem,” DeMarco noted thoughtfully.
“Yeah. And we’re likely to have problems using our tablets, laptops, and other equipment as well, especially if we need to use Wi-Fi or otherwise connect to the Internet or FBI databases. It’s something Bishop needs to know before he sends the others in. Something they all need to know. Be as prepared as they possibly can be. Protect themselves as far as they possibly can. What I said to Victoria is . . . probably going to be an understatement, at least for some of them. That energy, positive or negative, is awfully strong. And except for Victoria, none of them has a really strong shield to protect them from it.”
“Think Bishop may think twice about sending them in?”
Hollis shook her head immediately. “He wasn’t all that forthcoming—as per usual—about whatever he and Miranda saw when the rest of us got blasted, but I’m willing to bet he’s certain we all have to go down there, no matter what the risks are, to any of us. As certain as we are. We all have to be in Prosperity.”
DeMarco looked at her a moment, then glanced back out over the very peculiar valley and the dome of energy they both could already feel. “I guess we’ll find out if there’s anything . . . sentient . . . about all that energy,” he said. Then he returned his gaze to his partner, brows rising slightly. “Or do you already know that? I’m not picking up anything, but I’ve never been able to read anything other than human minds.”
“From here, it’s almost impossible to say much of anything definite about it, not the source or sources, not whether there’s any kind of mind behind it, or why it’s only now causing trouble.” Hollis paused. “Except that it’s energy, strong energy. And growing stronger. And that it’s going to cause more very bad things to happen.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“Positive.”
“Clairvoyance?” His tone was matter-of-fact.
“Not sure. Which is a little unsettling, but not all that surprising. I haven’t really learned to differentiate between the newer abilities. So maybe it’s something I’m feeling. Or maybe it’s something another sense is trying to tell me.” She sighed. “Dammit, I hope I get the hang of this soon.”
“You will.”
Darkly, she said, “It’s more likely something else will pop up to confuse me even more and you know it. I just don’t want precognition. Seriously. I think I can handle just about anything but that.”
“I,” he said, “think you can handle anything you have to.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Still in a dark tone, but with bright eyes, she said, “In the future, when we speak of this, and we will, just remember that I’ve given you many chances to escape.”
“I appreciate that. But I’m not going anywhere except with you.” He smiled, thoughts and awareness flowing easily between them below the level of words.
Hollis drew a breath, muttered something under her breath about rotten timing, then said briskly, “Okay, then let’s call Bishop. And tell him stuff he probably already knows anyway.”
* * *
? ? ?
YOU KNOW YOU want to, Elliot.
Elliot Weston blinked, frowned, and shook his head a little, trying to ignore the voice in his head that had been a whisper at first, a nagging little thing like a tune stuck in his head.
It was louder now. More distinct.
More . . . tempting.
He tried to concentrate on his job, on the virtually automatic spiel as he led the young couple through the carefully staged, nice little suburban home he was trying to sell them.
“As you can see, the three bedrooms are a nice size, and there’s a full basement that could easily be converted into whatever extra space your family might need—”