J Duncan - Deadworld

“Nick, don’t stop. Please. I want that mouth all over me.”

“No,” he said, closing his eyes and pushing back upright. “Damnit, Jackie. I want to, but no, not like this. Not under the influence of the other side.”

No, no, no! You bastard. You can’t bail now. “I don’t care, damnit.” She reached for his neck, to pull him back down, but he grabbed her hands in his.

“I do. It’d be like taking advantage of a drunken woman. Come on, a cold shower actually helps the effect go away.” He pulled her to her feet and led Jackie to the stairs.

Jackie didn’t complain, thinking perhaps she could coax him into the shower with her, but he removed no clothing, only pointing out the bathrobe hanging on the hook behind the door.

“It’s Shelby’s. She won’t mind. Cold water, Jackie. Cold as you can stand it. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Jackie yelled at the first contact, but the pulsing contact from the jets of water did indeed begin to cool her down right away. Gradually, her head floated back to its rightful place on her shoulders, and her will ventured back to take up shop once again. Only then did Jackie feel the mortification of what she had done. What the hell would she say to him now? She had truly wanted him though, sort of. Some part of her had, at least, and Shelby had unleashed it. How am I going to live this down? Maybe I can just sneak out and walk back to town. I really wanted him. Fuck, what is my problem? I’m going to have to thank him for saying no.

It struck Jackie then, beginning to shiver under the cold spray of the shower, that Nick Anderson was the first guy that she could remember who had refused to take advantage of the situation offered to him.

“Will you give it to me?” The words kept echoing around inside Nick’s head. He listened to Jackie finish her shower and then lock herself in the bedroom. Tough not to blame her for that one. Embarrassment was never fun, but he was thankful nonetheless. Nick did not know what he would say to her. Part of him had known what was going on. The symptoms had all been there, but he realized now, after a couple beers and two hours of mindless channel surfing, that he had wanted her. When she had finally irked him enough to push her up against the piano, his body had responded in a way he had not felt in a long time.

He had attempted to call Shelby to give her the piece of mind she deserved for pulling that off on Jackie without mentioning it to him, but she had not answered. It was getting late enough now that it worried him. She should have checked in at least an hour earlier. Gamble had nothing new to pass along. They were all out hunting for Drake. Shelby had been heard from, just not by him. He needed to be out there looking. Somewhere a little girl’s life was in grave danger.

Nick wrapped his hand around the beer bottle and felt the phantom, firm nipple of Jackie’s breast pressing through the cotton fabric against his palm. Her skin had been so warm. The desire to knead his fingers into it had been nearly overwhelming. Such a slightly built woman, and she had certainly shown her ability to use it for violence, but her desperate voice had sent his mind in an entirely different direction, wanting to know how that body would work under more desirable circumstances. Nick clicked off the television and headed up to the loft. He needed something to soothe his fraying nerves.

He had made it a whole thirty seconds into a Beethoven piano concerto when the phone rang. His heart skipped a beat when he saw it was coming from the hospital. “Hello?”

Cynthia’s voice, groggy and hoarse, whispered in his ear. “Nick?”

“Cyn?” Relief washed through him. “How you doing? It’s late, girl. You could have waited until morning.”

“Just woke up. I think they pumped a pharmacy into my veins.”

“Yeah, you weren’t too aware when I saw you earlier.”

“Worst migraine of all time,” she said and laughed softly. “I thought my head was going to explode.”

“Stayed too long on the other side, didn’t you? What were you doing poking around in Deadworld, Cyn? This is not a safe time to be doing that.” He knew he sounded like a dad scolding a daughter for staying out too late with undesirable friends, but in a way it was how he felt. Losing Cynthia would have been like losing another daughter.

“I know, but I wanted to tell you I found them, Nick. At least, I think so. It’s so hard to tell because I can’t really see over there. I just hear things.”

“I know that, but found who?”

“Some of Drake’s victims,” she said. “They’re trapped, I think.”

Nick paused, trying to collect himself. “Some” means more than one, perhaps many. “Trapped how? I don’t understand.”

“Sec,” she said, and Nick heard a soda can popping open and a mumbled conversation with a hospital staff person. “I don’t either. I think they were inside some… place. This big old brute of a guy named Jeffrey was guarding it and took offense at my nosing around.

“Jeffrey?”

“I don’t know. The guy was not the brightest. Kept referring to himself in third person. ‘Jeffrey not let anyone in. Jeffrey gonna smash your face.’ That sort of thing. I tried talking to him, but it was like talking to a brick.”

The name rang a bell for Nick. Jeffrey was someone from Drake’s past. He had run into Jeffrey back in ’32, but the dimwitted thug had been alive then. “Anything else before I come over and smack you for not staying away like I asked you?”

“Promise?”

“Promise to smack you?” Question is, will I give it to you. “No. Not funny.”

Cynthia sighed. “Fine. Can’t give a hospitalized girl a break, can you?”

“Cyn… sorry. It’s been a very long, frustrating day.”

“I’m sorry, too, Nick. Anyway, I got around this nitwit and found a bunch of spirits, those I’d normally think of as lost souls, the ones waiting for something to happen here before they move on, and Drake was with them.”

“What?” Drake has access to his victims after he has already killed them? Dear God.

“Yeah. At least, I am almost positive that’s who it was. English accent, charming voice, and very powerful. I knew the second I heard him I was in trouble so I began pulling out as fast as I could. Reggie showed up though and ran interference long enough for me to get back, but I guess that Jeffrey guy was able to follow me through.”

They could all be there, tormented by Drake all this time, waiting for me to arrive and save the day. Nick’s hand clenched tightly around the phone. “He can walk among both worlds. Christ.”

“Nick…” Her voice faded for a moment, and Nick thought she might have fallen asleep, but there was a cough as she cleared her throat before continuing. “If you need any… um… you know, blood to do this, I-”

“No!” He winced at the tone of his voice. “Sorry, Cyn. I didn’t mean to yell. I won’t take your blood, no matter what the reason, but thank you.”

“Okay. Just thought I’d offer. You know, just in case. Nobody should be allowed to walk among the dead, Nick. It’s not right.”

“I know. I hope I can stop him.”

“Is everything all right back at my house? That idiot was throwing shit all over the place.”

Nick swallowed hard. “There was a fire, Cyn. I think it gutted your living room. A lot of smoke damage, I think, but the outside looked pretty intact.”

Her voice quavered, on the brink of tears. “Did it look fixable?”

“I think so. It’s covered regardless, so don’t worry about that now. You can stay out at the ranch until it gets situated if you need to.”

Her voice cracked. Nick could tell she was crying now. That was far easier said when it wasn’t your house that had burned. “Thanks, Nick. I can probably stay out at Mom’s. I’ll ask her tomorrow. I’m going to go cry for a while now. You going to be okay over there?”