F. Paul Wilson - Legacies

"But what about you?" she said. "A third of nothing is nothing. I hate to see you come out on the short end of this, Jack. I mean, you've been stabbed, you almost got killed—"

"Don't worry about that. I couldn't take the money anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because I already have pretty much everything I want."

Alicia's gray eyes softened as she looked at him. "Do you? Do you really?"

"Yeah, well, sort of. And what I don't have, money can't buy me, so leave me out of the equation and do what you have to."

And the truth was, Jack couldn't see any way in the world to hide the kind of windfall that even a tiny share of broadcast power would bring. He'd have to come out from under to claim it, and he wasn't ready for that just yet. Not even for a couple three billion.

"Jack," she said as she tied the last strip of sheet. And now she sounded so weary. "I don't know what I have to do. I've got to think about it."

"Well," he said, standing and pulling up his jeans, "while you're thinking, I'm going to start gathering up the casualties."

13.

It took Jack a while to lug all six bodies, especially the two from the woods, to Baker's panel truck. A quarter inch of snow had collected by the time he arrived with the last—Kemel.

He could leave soon. He wasn't traveling with this cargo until it was fully dark. The last thing he needed was someone casually glancing into the rear window and seeing half a dozen corpses.

Jack thought Kemel was dead, but he startled Jack by letting out a moan as he was dumped on top of Baker.

"Please. A doctor… the pain…"

This wasn't good. If Kemel somehow hung oh until he was found, some hero with a scalpel and thread might actually save him. And that wouldn't do. Wouldn't do at all.

'Told you," Jack said. 'The folks on JAL 27 voted no doctor for Kemel."

The Arab whispered something Jack didn't catch. He leaned closer to hear.

"Plane… not me."

"But you knew about it, didn't you, you son of a bitch."

He saw the answer in Kemel's glazed eyes.

The adrenaline had trailed off, leaving Jack with a pounding headache. His thigh throbbed worse than ever from the exertion of moving the bodies. Foul didn't come close to his mood now. His mood was way far beyond foul… somewhere out near Mars, or maybe Saturn. And he knew from experience how dangerous that could be. He tended to become… unreasonable when he got this way.

Usually when he recognized the signs he'd step back, take a time-out, and push the darkness back into his personal basement. And he'd have been able to do that now if Kemel weren't alive. But knowing this rotten piece of camel dung was still breathing…

"Yeah, you knew about it, but did you call and give a warning? No. You let all those people die just to get rid of one man."

"Not me…"

"Yeah? Then who?"

"Please… the pain… please stop the pain."

What was he asking for? A coup de grace?

"You tell me who ordered the bomb, and I'll let you stop the pain."

"No… you… please."

"Sorry. I don't owe you that. But the name?"

"Nazer… Khalid Nazer."

"And where do I find him?"

"Iswid Nahr… trade mission… UN."

Khalid Nazer… Jack made a mental note of that as he drew Baker's 9mm. He popped the clip, leaving the chambered round; cocked the hammer, then pressed the muzzle into the soft spot under Kemel's jaw. He wrapped the Arab's fingers around the grip.

"Say your prayers and pull the trigger."

Then he walked away, leaving Kemel with his dose of the ultimate analgesic.

14.

Alicia started at the sound of the shot. She looked up and saw Jack limping across the clearing toward her. He looked weary. The Jack who'd driven her up here had changed into someone else, someone as cold and ruthless as the men he'd killed. As she'd bandaged his leg a while ago, she'd sensed the original Jack coming back… but slowly.

"What happened?" she called. "Are you all right?"

He nodded. "Just someone giving himself some permanent pain relief."

That someone could only be the Arab. Good Lord, how had he hung on this long?

"You ready to go?" Jack said. "I'll lead you out."

Alicia shook her head, "You go ahead. I'm going to stay awhile."

"The snow's sticking. You might not be able to get out later."

"That's okay. It's warm inside. And I've got a lot of thinking to do."

"You sure?"

"Very."

"Okay," he said, shrugging. "I'll leave you one of the cell phones. Call me when you get back, and I'll return the car."

"I will."

He turned to go, then turned back to her. "You sure you'll be all right?"

"Positive," she said, putting on a confident smile. "I just need to be alone right now."

"Yeah, well, that's one thing you'll be up here. Take care, Alicia." He waved as he turned. "And hey… Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you, Jack."

Merry Christmas… she'd forgotten all about Christmas. Only three days away… the season to be jolly…

She watched Jack fade into the snowy dusk, then stepped back into the cabin and closed the door.

She'd known from the moment it was over that she'd be staying here awhile. So while Jack was moving the bodies, she did her best to clean the blood from the floor. Finally she'd moved the throw rug from under the table and laid it over the stains.

She stepped over to the humming transformer-transmitter and stared at the beam of palpably bright light.

Technology to change the world… and make Ronald Clayton a revered figure… one of history's great men…

the man of the century… the man of the millennium…

But Ronald Clayton wasn't a great man… wasn't even an ordinary man… he was a monster who sullied every life he touched…

And the thought of history raising monuments to him…

She wanted to retch.

And yet, what right did she have to withhold such a marvel from the world?

None. She was just one person, and there were billions who could benefit.

She could feel the strings… tugging at her… manipulating her like a marionette. And she knew the name of the puppeteer.

Yes… she had a lot of thinking to do.

CHRISTMAS EVE

1.

Alicia drove downhill through the darkness toward the lights of New Paltz. She felt light-headed, almost giddy.

Two days it had taken her, two full days of agonizing, but she'd finally made up her mind.

And now she felt… clean. Yes, clean … that was the only word for it. As if she'd shed a ratty, moth-eaten old skin and now had a new one to show the world.

Going to be a different Alicia Clayton from now on. A whole new attitude, a whole new outlook. Starting tonight. Wasn't going to be easy… she had no illusions about that. But she had this feeling that if she kept pretending to be the new Alicia, after a while she'd start believing it.

That was the only way to go. Because the life she'd been leading lately was no life at all. Sure, the work was important, but there had to be more than that. Alicia was determined to have a full life. A good life.

Living well is the best revenge … how often had she heard that expression? Now she realized that it doubly applied to her.

Alicia listened to one of the all-news AM stations from the city as she made her way through the slushy, light-festooned streets of New Paltz. She'd been out of touch for two days but learned she hadn't missed much.

The only story vaguely interesting concerned an Arab trade envoy named Nazer or something who'd been murdered execution style outside his Manhattan apartment. An assassination? the newsman wanted to know. Police were speculating whether this death was related to that of the murdered Arab who was found recently along with five other bodies in the Catskills.