CHAPTER 28
A MIND ALL FRACTURED
Andi was transfixed. He’d tried to keep his connection to the arthropods as muted as possible to prevent Tammy from panicking. Calling the butterflies to himself and then sending them to her had been a gamble, a futile one, as it turned out. Because it wasn’t Tammy who had the geschenk.
It was her grandmother.
Tamika still didn’t react, and given her Alzheimer’s, Andi suspected she wouldn’t. She seemed to be having an episode. Or she was too immersed in them.
He turned his head. “George, I’m going to try to reach her.”
Before his partner could object, Andi sat down and then laid flat on the soft grass that was growing all around them, sending the gathering arthropods scattering and dove in.
Chitinous legs crawling over the foliage, burrowing through the soil, translucent wings beating the air, humming and clicking and scratching and the soft whispers of scales rasping in the draft that carried them heavenward, the distant vibrations of a bee’s nest, so rare in the wild, escaped the beekeeper, lucky, yes, lucky, all coming closer, pictures overlapping, blending together, so many views at once, none cohesive, more and more, soil and ground and air and bark and leaves and water, all the same, he could sense the wet grains of dirt, the smooth surface of a blade of grass, the soft breeze that carried wings, the gentle swaying of the water in the pond, no real current, just what the wind stirred, it was all there, for him to experience, to see, and how beautiful it was, how gorgeous the world if you only let it in, he could be forever in this beauty, forever riding the wind and moving the soil, forever feeding and mating and living and dying and it was a promise and a threat and oh so alluring, all it took was a step, no, not even a step, all he had to do was let go, dive in, ride the wave instead of erecting walls, go with the flow, so easy, so perfect, what could compare to this, what—heartbeats, three of them, one he knew intimately, as well as his own, one was steady, strong, so young, the other was more erratic, like the vibrations of the beetles’ legs that were scurrying over the bark, like the beating of the butterfly’s wings dancing around the branches, feasting on the sweet sap the aphids were sucking out of the leaves, not his, not George’s, not the other, not really a blob’s, too far gone already and?—
Andi resurfaced shortly like a water spider coming up to replenish the oxygen in her bubble, only he was replenishing sanity, as far as that was possible, before he dove back in, looking, searching, for Tamika, trying to find her in this cacophony of life and death, where any sense of self was erased under the onslaught of the sense of them, always too much, always there, always chipping at his walls, crumbling the foundation and there it was, a sliver of something not them, not him either, he recognized it from Rosalie’s apartment, from the hornets’ nest, Tamika—evil, meanie, not you, like me, how can you be, didn’t think there was anybody like me, never, so late—and he tried to grab her, tried to establish a connection—yes, like you, so rare, never thought there was another, how can this be—and for a moment she latched onto him, allowing him a glimpse of what she’d once been, beautiful and strong—such a bad head, these days, it’s safe here, so many memories, nothing gone, all there, like pollen in a comb, stored, can’t forget—and Andi saw the combs and the memories, distorted, as they always were, seen through their eyes and he wanted to cry, but why, what was crying, anyway, and he wasn’t alone anymore, Tamika was there, another, quickly fading, he could feel it, sense it, taste it. He tried to hold on to her, tried to guide her back, back to his anchor, back to the shore, where it was safe, but was it, not for her, no, not anymore, it wasn’t, she couldn’t go back, not into this broken caricature of a body that had become her prison and he understood, she had no George, her love was long gone, no beach where the waves could crash and lose their power. All she had, at the end of her life, was them and was that so bad, there were times when he thought it wasn’t, when he knew it was his way out, if everything became too much, if the world of the blobs became too heavy and tight and restricting, there was a door and walking through it meant freedom in the truest sense of the word, with everything it entailed, the living and dying, the breeding and killing, the cycle of life, the dance of the seasons, it was there for him to grab, for Tamika to grab, who had nothing else left, to be free and entangled at the same time, because what was this freedom if not another cage, of a more natural making, of their own choosing, but still, life was as much a cage as what the blobs thought life to be, you had to choose it and Andi chose George and Tamika—Tamika chose them.
CHAPTER 29
FEAR AND HOPE
George knew what was going on. Of course he knew because it was his greatest nightmare come to life. And he felt guilty because he also sensed that it wasn’t Andi who took the leading role this time. It had been a surprise that it wasn’t Tammy who had the geschenk, and George had a lot of questions as to how and why Tamika had been able to wield it, but for the moment, none of these things mattered.
“Why is the mister on the ground? Is he tired?” Tammy’s voice didn’t show any alarm. She was blissfully unaware of what was going on, and George envied her.
“Yes, I think he got tired. He had a lot of stress recently.”
“Ooh, I get it. Mommy has a lot of stress too.” She turned to her grandmother, who was still sitting motionless in her wheelchair. “Sorry, Nana, the butterflies are gone. Look, there are bugs on you!”
George looked and saw a bunch of shimmering bugs, centipedes, millipedes, and other crawlers swarming Tamika’s legs. That Tammy wasn’t disturbed by this in the least told George that she was most probably used to it. Also a question for later. “Tammy, could you go inside and maybe get your nana some water? It’s quite hot today.”
“Of course. I’m thirsty too.” Off she went, and George had a moment to assess and panic. Even if Andi wasn’t the one being swarmed, he was still too pale with a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. George went to his knees next to his partner to gather him in his arms.
“Detective Donovan! What’s going on here?” Luke Gelman arrived with Agent DeCapristo in tow. Both of them were panting, Gelman a lot harder than the agent.
George didn’t look up, keeping his focus on Andi and on synchronizing their breathing so he could bring him back. “We found the killer. It’s Tamika.”
Two sharp, shocked intakes of breath. “What do you want us to do?” Gelman, who was used to working with people like them, asked.
“I’ve sent Tammy inside to get some water. Perhaps you can stall her? I honestly don’t know what Andi is doing at the moment, though I have an inkling that we don’t want Tammy to witness it.”
“I’ll go. Agent DeCapristo, please follow Detective Donovan’s instructions.”
The agent must have made some kind of affirmative gesture because Gelman left. George didn’t see any of it, too focused on his partner and his safety. Andi was slowly coming back, his breathing becoming deeper, his skin getting warmer. Almost all the arthropods had migrated completely to Tamika. Only a few spiders and centipedes were still lingering on Andi’s skin. After another tense few minutes, Andi finally opened his eyes, turned in George’s arms and started heaving. George held him, the muscle contractions in his lover’s wiry body like daggers to his heart. When it was over, a tissue appeared in George’s line of sight, held by Agent DeCapristo.
“Thank you.”
“No problem. Shall I get you some water?”
“That would be perfect.”
DeCapristo left, leaving George alone with his partner, a killer, and a whole bunch of creepy crawlers.
Two hours later, Andi had somehow managed to send the arthropods back to where they belonged, and a nurse had brought Tamika inside to her room where Tammy joined her again. George didn’t know what explanation Gelman had used to get Director Delaine off their backs, but now they were back in their hotel room. Andi was on one of the beds with a washcloth over his eyes and a solid dose of Tylenol in his system. George had just given Gelman and DeCapristo the rundown of what had happened as far as he could tell.
Gelman nodded and then turned to the agent. “Agent DeCapristo, I understand you already know what Detective Hayes is capable of. I also assume you’re aware this is all highly classified information. I would very much appreciate it if you could leave now and not mention anything in your report.”
DeCapristo narrowed her eyes. “What’s in it for me?”
