LOGAN RATHER GINGERLY replaced the large piece of plywood and bundle of barbed wire over the ground-level opening of the old well. “This is not a very safe barrier,” he noted.
“No,” Victoria agreed, using a handy tree stump as a desk while she marked the position of the well on their search map. “It’s not in a pasture or near a trail, though, so I suppose the landowner thought it was good enough.”
“The sheriff might feel differently.”
“Yeah. May be one of the reasons why Hollis asked us to mark anything like this on the map. Plus, she might just be worried that if we do find the energy source underground, something like an old well could provide a ready-made escape hatch.”
“You both talk like the energy is alive. I mean, that it can think, make reasoned decisions.”
“Because it is. And you know it. Energy can’t be a voice in someone’s head, not without an intelligence of some kind guiding it. Energy can’t force people to kill. There’s an agenda behind all this, and that means a mind, a consciousness, behind it.”
He eyed her. “Haven’t evolved into a telepath, have you?”
“No. Still the same, just the naps. But a while back, I asked Bishop if I could have access to SCU case files—important names and sensitive information redacted, of course.”
“And?”
“And . . . the SCU has had some very serious, very deadly battles with energy over the years. Especially negative energy. And if there wasn’t a consciousness behind it, there was one using it.”
Logan frowned as they began to make their way back to the Bronco they were driving. “Didn’t Hollis say this energy is both negative and positive?”
“Yeah. Which is more than a little weird given what’s been happening here. Negative energy must be what’s being used to control people, to make them kill. So what’s the positive energy?” She absently rubbed the back of her neck.
“Maybe it really is what summoned us? Or what’s left of what summoned us?”
“Maybe. Still weird, though. If that’s what summoned us, it also must have a consciousness behind it. The good side of good versus evil, I guess.”
“You’re not saying God summoned us.” It was almost a question.
“No. I don’t think any version of God would have needed our help. But positive has to balance negative, good has to balance evil. And people, at least here on our little orb, tend to be behind both. We cause balance; we cause inbalance. The balance can be upset, the way it is here, now, but not for long because the Universe wants balance. So maybe we were summoned by a . . . universal consciousness.”
“A benevolent universal consciousness?”
“Maybe.”
“Hollis doesn’t seem all that interested in finding out what summoned us.”
“No. I think she’s always going to be more focused on taking care of the threat. I also think she’s had a lot of experience with energy and a lot of experience in facing evil. My guess is, she’s just glad we were all summoned here before things really got out of control.”
“Seven bodies, one killer-victim in a coma, one a smiling blank, and one in a continual state of terror sounds pretty out of control, Victoria.”
“Yeah. But I think all that’s just the beginning, or at least the beginning of the . . . plan. Otherwise, why summon us here when we couldn’t get here in time to stop any of that?”
Logan was silent until they were in the Bronco. He started the engine, then looked at her. “You sound almost . . . comfortable with all this.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“I would.”
“The next area we’re supposed to take a look at is a bit north of here. The service road we’ve been using should take us there.”
“Victoria.”
“What?”
“Are you thinking of joining the SCU?”
For a moment he didn’t think she was going to answer him. But then she looked up finally from the map and shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe. I never thought I could handle any law enforcement work, but Bishop was right in telling us years ago that the SCU isn’t your conventional law enforcement agency.”
“No, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a very dangerous life.”
Victoria frowned, green eyes thoughtful. “The dangerous part never bothered me. I mean, just living is dangerous and, besides, having something worthwhile to do with your life—and our freakish psychic abilities—puts a lot of points in the plus column.”
Logan put the Bronco in gear and began driving slowly along the barely-there service road. They were in an area immediately north of the town, an area with a forest and the sheer cliff walls of the mountains surrounding the valley to their left and farm and pasture land stretching off toward the center of the valley to their right.
“Haven’t you been tempted?” she asked suddenly.
“I never wanted to be any kind of psychic.”
“Yeah, but you are one. You’ve been dealing with your abilities for most of your life, and you’ve been helping spirits. Telling law enforcement agencies where to find murder victims and missing persons. Hell, you’re already doing some of the work. Why not get paid to do it?”
“I haven’t thought much about it.”
“Of course you have. You wouldn’t be human if you hadn’t. Why not do useful work and use your abilities with a group of people who understand, who don’t look at you like you’re a freak, and who can help you learn to control those abilities?”
“It isn’t that simple.”
“Maybe it ought to be.”
Logan continued to drive the Bronco slowly, his eyes scanning their surroundings rather than looking at her. “Maybe it should. But it isn’t.”
“We’re getting a taste of the work. Both of us might feel differently about it when this case is over.”
“A taste? Victoria, that’s like knowing you should start out wading in ankle-deep water and somebody throws you into the deep end of the pool. This is the deep end of the pool we’re in. Along with sharks we can’t see.”
“I gather that’s fairly typical of SCU cases. I mean, encountering the unexpected. Not really a guidebook or a rulebook. Call me crazy, but that sounds sort of appealing.”
“You’re crazy.”
She smiled faintly, studying him. “Well, we’ll see. In the meantime, how are you handling all this energy, really? Because it’s bugging me even through my shield.”
“My skin’s sort of crawling,” he admitted. “But I’m not hearing a voice in my head telling me to buy a bunch of guns or to kill somebody, so I’m grateful for that.”
“So am I.”
It was his turn to smile faintly. “Honestly, I expected to feel a lot more. With no shield, it just seemed reasonable I would. Maybe whatever’s blocking spirit energy is helping protect me from all this negative stuff.”
“Maybe. Or maybe you have a natural shield you’ve just never used before. One that only protects you against energy.”
“Unexplored territory for me,” he admitted.
“The sort of challenge that helps abilities evolve, maybe. That seems to be the rule rather than the exception.”
“We’ll probably know more about that once the others get here and get involved. Considering the range of abilities, I mean.”
“Yeah, probably. Hey—up there to the left. Does that look like a big tree down, the roots showing?”
“Yeah. The ‘very earth heaving’?”
“Disturbed ground, at the very least.”
“So let’s take a look.”
* * *
? ? ?
“WHAT DO YOU think?” Hollis asked.
DeMarco studied the very odd sky above them, the energy visible to him because Hollis was showing him what she saw. It was an odd color for an otherwise clear October sky, shading toward a grayish navy, brightened weirdly as threads of white energy hissed almost inaudibly across it in a lacy pattern.
“I think it’s a good thing most if not all the people in this valley can’t see what you see. Is this how it looked yesterday before it got dark?”
“Pretty much. Except there are more threads of energy visible. I think. The field feels stronger, and whatever is holding it in feels more solid. I know that.”
“Which would explain why the local radio station is nothing but static; yesterday we could at least hear some of the broadcast.”
“Yeah. And the pressure is a bit more intense.”