All Souls: A Gatehouse Thriller Read online

  “Trick-or-treaters are going to be ringing my doorbell in a couple hours,” he said. “We need to start thinking about tonight.”

  I sat straight in my armchair in the living room, where I’d spent the past two hours staring into space. “We can’t open that door.”

  “I know.”

  “Put a bowl of candy outside,” Hall called from the spare bedroom.

  Apparently, along with other skills, Elations had a finely tuned sense of hearing. I looked at Zack and rolled my eyes. So now we had to deal with Halloween. People in masks, people sneaking up to doors. The helplessness of waiting was getting on my nerves too, so I told Zack about the Land Conservation Alliance and asked him to look up the Colorado chapter on his laptop. When he found the Colorado LCA page, I carried his laptop to Hall and asked her to review the list of officers.

  “Do you recognize any of these names?” I asked her. Nathan had already told me that the president of the Colorado chapter was a Festal, but I wanted to test Hall, to see if she was willing to confirm that.

  “Keep your eyes on the monitor,” she said, taking the computer from my hands. I was happy to, for even a minute. I didn’t like the idea of Hall alone being responsible for our safety.

  She handed the laptop to me a minute later, her eyes shifting back to the monitor. “The president is a Festal,” she said. “But I think you knew that.”

  “Recognize anyone else?”

  “The treasurer was willing at one time.”

  I glanced down at the web page. “Joseph Madden. How do you know?”

  “I knew he was a potential recruit before I became restored. His intentions were clear, but he hadn’t yet turned. He may or may not have changed his mind.”

  “So you knew Sacks were joining and trying to take control of the LCA before you left.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “What’s their plan?”

  Hall silently maneuvered the joystick and gnawed at her lower lip. It seemed she would ignore my question, but she turned her face to the door and called for Zack to watch the monitor. When he took his seat at the desk, I tucked his laptop under my arm and Hall and I started for the kitchen.

  “Wait,” Zack said. “I have some questions about Kath.”

  I stood in the doorway and Hall returned to the bed and sat near Zack’s chair. “Go ahead,” she said.

  “Did you call for a clear-out at your house?” He turned to look at Hall and she reminded him he couldn’t take his eyes from the cameras.

  “Yes, I did,” she said.

  “How was she allowed to become a hunter if she was a Sack?”

  “She must have become one recently,” Hall said softly. “Possibly after I left. She almost certainly was a hunter first. I never heard her name as a hunter or an Alarm, but that doesn’t surprise me. She’s not the first hunter to turn. There’s turning, and there’s restoration.”

  “And turning back again?” I asked. A snide question, but Hall’s cool, quiet demeanor bothered me. I didn’t expect or want hysteria, but she was talking with the voice of a librarian about Kath willingly choosing to become a Sack.

  “But she killed other Sacks,” Zack said.

  “It’s allowed.”

  Hall’s voice chilled me. It’s allowed. I knew it was allowed, I knew Sacks killed their own, but her affirmation of this demented rule was making things worse. “Says who?”

  “The culture, the Embodiments. If it’s necessary, it’s allowed.”

  “Sweet,” I said. “Now I have a question. How did we not know Kath was a Sack?”

  Hall lifted a shoulder.

  “That’s not good enough. I need an answer. She became a Sack sometime in, what, the past year? I didn’t know, Nathan didn’t know.”

  Hall put her hands on her knees, her elbows jutting outward, and stared down at the floor. “How do you think you would have known?” she said, looking up at me. “What signs do you think you would have seen?”

  I considered her questions and came to the conclusion that even if I had been looking for signs, I might not have seen them. Kath talked and acted like other hunters. She was rebellious and emotional at times, but Gatehouse had seen those qualities and found value in them.

  Most puzzling was that Kath enjoyed hunting more than I did. How do you become the thing you love to kill? Or was it the killing itself she loved? Seeing others, no matter who, suffer the way she had. As a Sack, one of fewer than a million and a half in the world, she had more power than she did as a hunter, and with all the changes going on, many more opportunities to kill.

  Still, it didn’t say much for my judgment that I hadn’t known my best friend had turned. “You’re saying there’s no way of telling if someone turned?”

  “Not for certain.”

  “No way to tell if they’re restored then.”

  Zack shot me a look over his shoulder.

  Hall rose. “The only thing you can do is get to know someone,” she said, exiting the room.

  “I knew Kath,” I shouted after her.

  “Jane,” Zack said.

  “What, you’re her friend now? After a few hours? You’re easy.”

  His eyes still fixed on the monitor, his neck stiffened but he didn’t answer.

  “I have to talk to her about the LCA.” I nervously tapped my fingers on the doorjamb. “I’m sorry.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “I’ll put your candy outside the front door. Where is it?”

  “On the kitchen counter, thanks.”

  By the refrigerator I found an orange plastic bowl already filled with miniature chocolate bars and peanut butter cups. I wrote a pointlessly hopeful “Take One” note on a piece of paper I dug out of a drawer, positioned it in the bowl, and set the bowl outside, a few feet from the door in a planter under a decorative solar light. Hall observed me the whole time. When I returned to take a seat opposite her at the table, she was ready to talk.

  “You asked about their plan,” she said. “I wasn’t let in on it, but obviously I could see that the upper levels wanted to take over membership of the LCA.”

  “An Elation wasn’t let in on the plan?”

  “There are a thousand Elations at any one time.”

  “Not in the United States there aren’t.”

  “There are easily a hundred in this country alone, and contrary to popular myth, they don’t all go to the same cocktail parties.”

  “Some get left out of the discussions.”

  “Eventually I would have heard about the LCA.”

  “What do you think they’re up to? What’s the endgame?”

  “Land is power.”

  “Land is also freedom. Gather land, take it or buy it, then hand it out to only those you want to have it.”

  “So what do you think the endgame is? It sounds like you’re no slouch at deduction.”

  “Ah, flattery.”

  She exhaled loudly and looked away, her eyes traveling over the kitchen and toward the laundry room. “You know, I’m not your enemy.” Her eyes shifted back to mine. “And I’m the target, not you. If you get hurt, it’s only because you’re in the way.”

  “I know, I heard.”

  “Falter?”

  “Shut the hell up.”

  “What did she mean?”

  “Screw you, Fathomless.” I jumped to my feet and glared down at her, wanting to hit her, wanting her to know that.

  “I have an idea what she meant. I know you were on her porter’s kill list, but she didn’t kill you.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’m in contact with—”

  “And why are you still talking?”

  “You don’t think I could kill you if I wanted to?”

  “Now that’s an overture for friendship if I ever heard one.”

  She rose, lifted her left leg, and placed it on the chair seat. “Keep calm.” She held her right hand aloft and with her left hand slowly raised the leg of her jeans, revealing a Walther pistol in a
nylon ankle holster. “I wear it around the house.” She slowly, deliberately sat again, holding her hands in sight.

  That explained the old-style wide pant legs. It was a tell I should have noticed. “You’re saying I’d be dead if you weren’t beneficent.”

  “I’m saying we’re on the same side. And right now, as remarkable as it is, I need you more than you need me.”

  “Believe me, I don’t need you, period. And are you joking with the ankle holster? It’s inefficient and stupid, even for walking around the house.”

  “This”—she pointed at her leg—“is what I would have used on your friend if I’d been able to reach it. But a mere Alarm took me by surprise. I was trying to determine how many shots I could withstand before I was able to return one of my own when you came in.”

  I simply stared at her. An Alarm had compelled her to anticipate her own death, and she was admitting as much to a nobody hunter. What that must have cost her Elation ego.

  “I was hoping she was a terrible shot, that if I dropped and rolled before coming back up, she’d only hit an arm or leg. If I was lucky, not my right arm.”

  “Move!” Zack shouted from the bedroom.

  Hall instinctively grabbed the gun from her ankle holster as she wheeled toward the sliding glass door near the kitchen table. I aimed my weapon at the door as I backed into the living room then spun to face the large window over the couch. Nothing.

  Zack’s footfalls were heavy on the floor as he ran down the hall. He entered the living room with his Ruger drawn, panic written on his face. “Two of them,” he said in a loud whisper. “One coming for the kitchen, one for the master bedroom. They came out of nowhere.”

  “It’s daylight,” I said, stunned that Sacks would attack us before nightfall.

  “Down everyone,” Hall said. “Jane, eyes front, Zack, eyes to the bedroom. What do they have?”

  “Handguns,” Zack said. “I didn’t see anything else.”

  “You’re sure they’re Sacks?” I said.

  “One hundred percent.”

  “Don’t move, let them break in,” Hall said.

  We were going to let them come to us, just like at Nathan’s house. Crouched low, shoulder to shoulder, our weapons covering every angle of entry, we listened and waited.

  Shit. Just like at Nathan’s house. “They may have body armor,” I said. “Aim for the head and neck.”

  “Armor?” Zack said. “What the hell?”

  Something—branches from a shrub or tree?—rubbed the back of the house. When Zack and I turned toward the noise, Hall told us to keep our eyes on our own entry points. This was hers, and the second Sack would use the disruption of the first Sack’s break-in to take us off guard. No matter what we heard, we had to keep our eyes forward and leave the back of the house to her.

  Two male voices, tinny and scratchy, as though they came from a radio or old-fashioned walkie-talkie, floated above the sound of branches and a car passing by. “They’re communicating,” I whispered.

  “Coordinating,” Hall said.

  Glass shattered in one of the bedrooms, and an instant later a Sack broke through the kitchen’s sliding glass door. I heard Hall shoot twice and saw the second Sack bursting toward us from the hallway. Zack shot first, striking the Sack in his upper right arm, and I fired twice, hitting the Sack in the shoulder and neck. In my peripheral vision I saw Hall spin toward the hall and fire once more, her bullet entering the Sack’s left jaw.

  “Stay down,” she commanded.

  I wheeled back to the living room window, struggling to keep my arms from shaking. After what seemed like several minutes, Hall told us we could relax. I lowered my arms and stood, my thigh muscles cramping on me. Zack headed down the hall for the spare bedroom, stopping momentarily to check the pulse on the Sack, and Hall bent down and pressed her fingers to the neck of the Sack on the kitchen floor.

  “How did you know they’d have body armor?” she asked, stepping around the blood pooling at the Sack’s neck and head. I looked down at him, a man in his forties, his right cheek a crater of mangled flesh.

  “A couple days ago I ran into the same thing.”

  “You know Kath Norwocki signaled this,” she said flatly.

  “I know.”

  “It’s not safe to stay here.”

  From the spare bedroom, Zack called an all clear on the cameras, and Hall told him to stay put. She bent down again and examined the Sack in the kitchen for tattoos, first by pushing up his shirtsleeves and then by yanking open his vest and lifting his shirt. On his lower abdomen—a favorite place to declare Sack identity—the name Taken Breath was written in tattoo-green Gothic letters.

  “It sure was,” I said, sliding my gun into its holster, feeling weak as the adrenaline left my veins.

  “I know that name. He’s an Elation. We’re lucky we took him by surprise.”

  Another Elation, and he too was clearly human. Maybe Nathan was right about the upper-level Sacks. “I want to know why Sacks are working together now,” I said. “They never did before.” I strode to the hallway and searched for a tattoo on the second Sack, finding his too on his lower abdomen. “Masticate,” I said. The name revolted me. I covered it with his sweater.

  “A Festal.” Hall massaged her forehead with her free hand. “We need to get out of here immediately.”

  “I thought Festals and Elations were smarter than this. How did we take them so easily?”

  “With their intelligence comes arrogance and miscalculation,” Hall said. “Let’s not make the same mistake. We need to get out now.”

  I yelled for Zack to grab his laptop and backpack. “I know exactly where we’re going,” I said.

  “Where?” Hall said.

  “You’ll find out when we get there. Not a minute before.”

  Chapter 13

  We took heavily traveled Interstate 80 east to Cheyenne then Interstate 25 south. It was still light out, and I figured the traffic would give us some measure of cover since Sacks wanted as few witnesses as possible. Both Zack and Hall asked where we were going, but I refused to say. I trusted Zack, but any answer I gave him Hall would also hear.

  “Sacks in body armor,” Zack said from the backseat. “What’s with that?”

  “It’s very rare,” Hall said, glancing at him over her shoulder.

  “What’s next, night-vision goggles?”

  “Aside from the vests, they weren’t well armed,” I said, lifting my eyes to the rearview mirror. “A couple of pistols, cheap two-way radios. But the vests ...” I trailed off. Zack was spooked and I didn’t want to speculate on what two incidents with high-quality vests might mean for hunters. Someone was supplying those vests. And instructing Sacks to wear them.

  We exited at Highway 14, made our way west to Fort Collins, then took College Avenue, one of the city’s main streets, north into downtown. The weather was unusually good for a northern Colorado Halloween—still in the fifties, no snow on the ground—and revelers were taking full advantage, wearing costumes rather than coats for the first time in years, some of them making calls on the half dozen or so brew pubs in the downtown area for Tasters’ Night. Halloween and beer. Great combination. How would we tell a Sack from a drunk?

  Two blocks north of downtown, I reached for the burner Zack had given me, dialing Travis and Paige Overstreet’s number. They owned a car-repair and engine-design business here, and best of all for the sort of trouble we were in, their building had three drive-in bays. With the doors down, no one would see our rental car.

  The Overstreets had no idea what I did for a living, but Paige, who knew I disappeared from time to time, didn’t like using other people’s telephones, and tended to look over my shoulder as though I were being chased by the hounds of hell, called me NSA Girl. Almost as bad as Jane Bond. I made sure they knew I was legal, that’s all, and if they saw the CIA or NSA when they saw me, so much the safer for them, though the idea of me surviving long in either organization was laughable.

 
I hung up the burner, drove the rest of the way around the block, and pulled into a parking lot just off College. Under normal circumstances I would have circled the block twice, but I didn’t want Hall to become familiar with her new surroundings. It was best if she was disoriented.

  Paige stood to the side of the bay, hands in her jacket pockets and a smile spreading across her face, as I nosed the car through the bay door. She took a step back, hit a switch that closed the door, then gave me a long hug as soon as I slid down from the SUV’s seat.

  “How long has it been?” Paige asked.

  “Four months, I think. Thanks for letting me park.” The bay smelled strongly of grease and motor oil.

  “Up to company business, are you?”

  I smiled, turned to Zack and Hall, who were now standing alongside me, and introduced them. “We need to stay overnight. Is that possible?”

  “You bet. Exciting.” She glanced toward the open office door to her right and called her husband’s name. “Travis? It’s Jane Piper.”

  “Are you busy?” I said.

  “Nah. We’re having an employee Halloween party in a couple hours, but in the lounge and cafeteria, not here in the bays. You’re welcome to join us.”

  “Thanks, but we have some things to do.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Oh, heck yes,” Zack said, grinning and smacking his hands together.

  Hall was quiet, regarding Paige, the office door, and the entire bay with suspicion. Was she uncomfortable among strangers? Or was it lack of control that irritated her? I’d chosen the spot. She’d had no say in it, and now she had no way to signal anyone where she was.

  “Hey, stranger,” Travis said as he stuck his head out the office door, his hand covering the mouthpiece of his phone. “Good to see you.”

  “Pizza OK?” Paige said.

  “Sounds great, thank you.” I had no idea what Hall wanted to eat. She’d probably had her fill of pizza, but if she wasn’t going to chime in, she’d have to settle.