Part 29 (1/2)

She drove slowly on the opposite side of the lake. The house in her mind had been a large one. It had a seventies-style architecture-rectangles and squares and too much gla.s.s. She stopped in front of several of them, but each time, it just didn't seem right.

And then, she saw the house, with a circular driveway in front.

She had been there. She remembered being there, but she could not remember who lived there. Why she had visited it. Had it been another dream? She remembered Matt's video of the house clearly now-he must have been in the canoe. Maybe with his father. A Boys' Day Out. Matt must've held the camcorder up and just videoed the back of the house on the lakeside.

And here she was, at the front. She parked on the road, and walked up the driveway. She did nothing to conceal the gun in her hand. She stepped off the driveway onto the slate walk that went around the side of the house. It was an enormous house, and although it had huge gla.s.s windows, the shades were drawn. She went back to look at the lake, and then to look at the house.

It was the one she remembered. It was the one from Matt's video.

She felt her heartbeat, too rapid, and a clutching at her throat. She raised the revolver slightly as she went back around to the front of the house.

She stood at the bottom of three steps that led to the front porch. A slender patch of garden bordered the porch-peonies and pansies and irises.

She took each step slowly, feeling a thudding on the inside. A gentle s.h.i.+very wind down her back.

When she got to the door, she rang the bell and waited.

3.

No one came to the door. She rapped at it. Waited. The revolver felt heavy in her hand, and she lowered it. She began to doubt her vision. Her memory. Was this the house? Whose was it? Who was the out-of-focus woman from her memory that Diamond's consciousness had brought her back to see?

Who would she know who would know Hut? Would know Amanda? Might have known them years before Julie had ever met Hut? He didn't have many friends outside of people at work. But none of them lived here. Who lived on the lake? Who was it?

When the door finally opened, she already knew. The name came up to her. A name that Michael Diamond had mentioned.

Nell. That had been what she was called as a girl in Project Daylight.

Eleanor, on the other side of the door, looked startled. ”Julie?” she asked as if she had expected someone else.

Julie brought the revolver up, pointing it at her. ”Where are my children?”

4.

She stepped over the threshold of the house as if she were in a dream. How could this be real? How could Eleanor, a therapist, for G.o.d's sake, be part of some insane psychic conspiracy? What was she thinking? How was it possible? But possible didn't matter anymore.

”Now, don't get excited,” Eleanor said. ”You're experiencing-”

Julie cut her off. ”I know. Post-traumatic-stress blah blah blah.” She kept the revolver pointed at her.

”Julie, put that thing down,” Eleanor said. ”Right now. You are not in any danger, believe me.”

”Where are they?” Julie asked, her voice hardened.

”Matt's asleep. He needed rest.”

”Did you hurt him?”

”Of course not. He was getting violent. You know how he is. We had to...give him something.” Eleanor spoke as if she were in her office again, dispensing advice.

”You are good, Eleanor. Or Nell. Or whoever you are. You are good,” good,” Julie said. Julie said.

The man she knew as Dr. Glennon came out of a room down the hall. He spoke to Eleanor, ”Well, I can't say we didn't expect this.”

”I know,” Eleanor said. ”Hut's been careless.”

Dr. Glennon nodded to Julie. ”Mrs. Hutchinson, please, just think for a minute. I know you've gotten some mumbo-jumbo from that Diamant character. But he's taken care of.”

”Did you give him some Xalax? Or Darmien? Something to make him sleep? Is that what you gave Matty, too?”

Dr. Glennon held up his hands, slightly defensively. ”I know what that man told you, Mrs. Hutchinson. But there's more to it. Believe me.”

Eleanor said, ”Julie, we had to do it this way. We had to wait until Hut was fully himself again. He's better than he was. He really is.”

”You people brought him back from the dead.”

”I would've thought you loved him enough,” Eleanor said, ”to want him back. He has Ability X stronger than anyone we've known. You loved him. He loves you. He loves you, Julie. Surely, you'd want to be with him.”

”Not like this,” Julie said. ”You're a pack of f.u.c.king psychic vampires.”

Eleanor shot a look at Dr. Glennon, who went to sit down on the stairs to the second floor. He looked exhausted. Julie noticed sweat on his forehead. She was scaring them. Just a little. She didn't know how they'd be scared. ”You're nothing but zombies.”

”Oh, Julie,” Eleanor tsked as if she were a child. ”This is the human brain. It's not mystical c.r.a.p like Diamant believed. Project Daylight was a scam. They were trying to find out things to justify war. To justify invasion. To milk little children of their abilities. But we all learned, together. We learned. And we've put it into action.”

”You kill. You kill each other. You kill your own children. I didn't even know you had children, Eleanor.”

Eleanor began to look at the revolver as if she wanted to grab it. Julie grinned. She was happy to feel that she had power in this situation.

”You've been in the Stream, Julie,” Eleanor said. ”You know how life and death are definitions of the imperfect human brain. There is no death, Julie. There doesn't need to be. Those of us with this ability can change how human beings exist. We can alter the course of the future.”

”Not all of you come back. Are you dead yet Eleanor?”

”I guess there's no reasoning with you,” Eleanor said.

And then, Hut came around the corner, with others behind him. People she didn't know-three or four of them. The red-headed woman from the video was there. Gina? Was that her name? She stood back with a middle-aged man who had tortoise-sh.e.l.l gla.s.ses on and thinning hair.

”Zombies,” she said.

”Baby,” Hut said, moving toward her too rapidly. He looked well rested. He looked healthy. He wore one of his favorite T-s.h.i.+rts, and blue jeans, and didn't look like he was in his forties at all. He looked better than she remembered him looking. Life was in him.