Book 2: Chapter 103: Always Forward (1/2)

The call came within ten minutes. Abby was still latched on to Dan's arm, and she held up her phone to show him the caller ID.

Mama Ana, the screen read.

Abby answered before the second ring. She held a tense, quiet conversation with her grandmother, while still tucked firmly against Dan's torso. It consisted mostly of toneless yeses and noes. Dan couldn't quite hear Anastasia's side of the conversation, but the woman seemed to pontificate on length to Abby. Abby nodded a few more times, then held the phone out and clicked on the speaker.

”Go ahead,” she said, softly.

Anastasia Summers' cold voice crackled across the line. ”Have your boyfriend meet me at the entrance to what's left of my mansion.”

There was a click, and then there was nothing.

Dan sighed, and slowly disentangled himself from Abby's iron grip.

”I'd better go,” he said.

She nodded into his shoulder, released him and stepped away. ”Don't let her blame you for anything. You saved our lives.”

”Yeah,” Dan said tiredly. ”I'll be back soon.”

He stepped out of the world.

Dan touched down at the gate barring what was once the entrance to the Summers' property. There had been green for as far as the eye could see. Imported trees and trimmed hedges and crystal-clear lakes. Wildlife and people. Nothing remained but a bleak, blasted crater. The land was painted in shades of brown and grey; dust hung thick in the air and visibility was close to nonexistent. The ocean crept in from below, mixing with shattered earth to form a sludge thick, brown, and slimy. Dan had murdered any trace of beauty this place held.

Anastasia stood between the open gates, her arms crossed and her back to him. She stared at the remains of her home, and though he could not see her face Dan knew it was grim. Off to the side of the path, only a few feet away from the entrance, were the remnants of Anastasia's aircraft. The rocket sledge looked exactly like it sounded. It was a tall, narrow tube, with two wide wings and a tail fin, and a pair of massive thrusters bolted onto its rear end. It was buried past its nose into the dirt, wings snapped and cockpit destroyed. She hadn't landed it; she'd crashed it.

Dan looked from the destroyed aircraft, to Anastasia. He approached her, stopping just behind her shoulder.

”You alright?” he asked, mostly out of courtesy.

She waved a dismissive hand without even bothering to turn and face him. Her other hand, he saw, was clutching on to her cell phone. Her thumb moved up and down the screen as she flipped through messages. She seemed distracted, and clearly in a foul mood. Dan waited patiently as she grew visibly more frustrated at whatever it was she was reading. Finally, she clicked her phone shut, pocketed it, and turned to him. Her eyes took him in; she breathed deep, and let it out. Her expression smoothed out.

”What did you do here?” she asked mildly. It was probably the least hostile tone Anastasia had ever directed at him.

Dan considered the question. He turned to look at the bleak landscape, where he'd fought for his life less than an hour earlier. He decided not to be flippant.

”I threw a massively accelerated log at Cannibal while he was trapped in a very confined space,” Dan said.

”Like your trick at the motel?” Anastasia asked. ”You told me it didn't work.”

”Yeah.” Dan scratched the back of his head and gestured helplessly to the ruined estate. ”I made it go faster this time. It worked.”

”You think you killed him?”

Dan wanted to say yes. He wanted it so very badly. The log should have struck Cannibal point blank in the face, and given the state of the surroundings, it had carried a lot of energy along with it. He wanted to believe that the notorious Natural had been vaporized, his pieces flung across the ocean to taunt carrion fish with their unusual toughness. It was what he wanted, but not what he thought.

”I think I rang his bell,” Dan said. ”He's going to have one hell of a headache. I think I hurt him, but I have a sneaking suspicion he's survived worse. Marcus once mentioned that you destroyed most of a city bringing him in the first time.”

Anastasia's lips pursed. ”I was young, and my control wasn't what it is now. I traded precision for power. You may very well have struck him directly with more force than I did.” Her voice was wistful, almost nostalgic. ”But I think you're right. I think he's alive. I don't know that he can die by human hands. His concept might prevent it. We have to be indirect. Next time I see him, I'll throw him into the sun.”

Dan blinked at the casual remark, but she continued before he could address it, ”I can't cover this up. Not entirely. It's impossible to miss, and I was visibly elsewhere. It will raise questions, and I can't take credit for you.”

Dan shrugged. ”Blame it on the People. It was basically their fault anyways. What's one more thing?”

Anastasia scowled at the mention of her old enemy.

”They aren't acting like they should,” she said, irritation leaking into her tone.

”Enemies rarely do,” Dan quite reasonably pointed out.

She turned her head in a single, sharp motion. ”They aren't acting like they used to.”

”It's been a few decades since you fought them,” Dan said. ”You must have expected that they'd changed a little.”

”People don't change,” Anastasia replied absently. ”Not really. They just become more themselves. The underlying character remains the same.”

”Who are you, Doctor House?” Dan asked incredulously.

”I don't know who that is.”

”Never mind.” Dan frowned, shaking his head. ”Either they've changed, or you were wrong about their character to begin with.” He shrugged. ”Pick your poison.”

She seemed unhappy with that evaluation, but didn't criticize it. She just stared off into the distance, oddly contemplative.

Dan sighed. ”Why am I here Anastasia?”

She didn't answer for a long time. She kept her head forward, towards the ashes of her ruined home. The dust in the air began to swirl; slowly, gently, it rose and cleared away. She followed its progress with her eyes until it rose above the treetops.

”I need you to find them for me, Daniel,” she said, her voice nowhere near begging and nowhere near demanding. Just, neutral. Flat. ”Track down more of those caches.”

”No way,” Dan denied immediately. He wasn't having any of that. His involvement had only made things worse. And he'd promised Abby he'd stay safe. ”They know i can crack them now. Next time I try I'll probably walk face first into a bullet.

”Echo barely escaped,” Anastasia argued. ”He might default to old habits. He might not expect us to repeat the same trick twice. He might not have any better options.”