The Fall of Never(149)

Downstairs, all the lights were out. Not wanting to wake up Carlos’s mother, she whispered her husband’s name throughout the rooms, flicking on lights as she walked by. Occasionally she’d caught him meditating in a darkened room. But all the rooms were empty tonight. Her husband was not here.

She stepped out to the back porch, half-expecting to find him puffing away on one of his cigarillos he didn’t know she knew about, but he wasn’t there, either. Upset, she paused against the porch door, unconsciously chewing on her fingernails. Had he gone out, this late and in such weather? Perhaps the hospital had called…

Shivering, she moved back down the hallway and began climbing the stairs to go back to bed. Halfway up the staircase, her mind on her husband, she felt the baby move inside her. She smiled. She brought one hand away from the railing and placed it on the swell of her belly. Yes, she could feel him in there…little Julian Mendes…

The baby thumped again and she laughed. In the darkness, she reached out for the railing and took another step before she gripped the banister. Her foot didn’t find the step. She jerked, her hand groping for the railing, but by that time she had started to tip backward and away from the banister. Her foot came down crookedly on the stair below the one she’d aimed for, twisting her ankle, and in one sweeping wave she felt her entire body go loose and give way. The momentum forced her backward, and she felt her heart rise in her throat, saw the stairwell, the wall, the ceiling alternate places, and felt the dagger-like sharpness of a step digging into the small of her back…her head, her shoulders. Her legs flailed and her left foot cracked against the wall. Bright, starry explosions danced in the darkness before her eyes. In her struggle, she managed to turn to one side, to twist her body and avoid further injury to her back and head. But she turned too far, and felt a pain worse than any pain she had ever known—deep and gripping, piercing a lifeline of nerves that ran straight through her body. Something thundered deep inside her.

She struck the floor with frightening numbness, the world growing bleached and gray all around her, and she was faintly aware of a sticky wetness about her body—running down her legs and soaking her thighs. She cried out but could only hear her own heartbeat in her ears. A second wave of pain struck, and she felt her entire body turn inside-out, felt that sinewy lifeline snap and recoil, curl up, shrivel.

Before passing out, she thought she heard herself scream.





Epilogue


Her jacket pulled tight against her frame, Kelly stood outside the Krohn Building in downtown Manhattan, a portfolio under one arm, a look of insufficiency on her face. For what seemed like an eternity, she watched the traffic skirt along the street, watched the bustle of pedestrians weave in and out of each other, until she made up her mind to either enter the damn building or leave. It wouldn’t be difficult to turn around and go home. She could get something to eat and not think about the Krohn Building or the project or the damn portfolio under her arm ever again.

Taking a deep breath, she crossed the street and entered the building.



Back at the apartment, Josh greeted her with a cold beer and an eager disposition.

“Well?” he said.

“Don’t pump me.”

“Hey, this is my thing too, remember? Anyway, I’m just excited.”

“Where’s Becky?”

“Here,” Becky called from the kitchen. Kelly entered, set her portfolio on the counter, and tugged her sister’s ponytail. The girl flashed a beaming smile and for the first time Kelly actually saw how beautiful she was. And everything that had happened—all of it—was gone for her, absent from her mind. The nights she and Josh had stayed up going over and over those strange and frightening events had been their therapy, their way of solidifying the events in their mind. As was the slow-healing wound at her shoulder. And as was the power she still carried in her body and mind. But Becky had none of that. Becky remembered nothing. Several times, Kelly had tried to reach the girl with her mind and stir her memory, to make some sort of contact with her via their shared abilities. But Becky had closed herself off.

“Cooking, huh?” Kelly said.

“Josh made me make dinner. Do you have any idea how lazy he is?”

“Not true,” he said. “Dinner just tastes better when someone else makes it.”

“Such a creep,” Kelly sneered.

“So come on,” he pushed. “You gonna make me do handstands or what? How’d it go? What’d they say?”

“Yeah,” Becky said.

“Well,” she said, “they turned down the series.”

“Shit,” said Becky.

Josh threw his hands up in the air. “Man, I really had a good feeling about those creeps too. Hell, what do they know, right? Their loss.”

Kelly sat down on the sofa and peeled her shoes off. “There is a bright side.”

Josh cocked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“They were real impressed with Nellie’s segment. They want to release it as a stand-alone documentary.”

Josh broke up. “Are you serious? That’s fantastic!”

“It’s gonna be on TV, Kell?” Becky said, beaming.

“Cable,” she said.

Josh laughed and said, “Rich man’s television. Me like, me like. Really, Kell, that’s great news.”