The Long Way Home
By
E. S. Young
Chapter Nineteen: A Break in the Storm
I'm not sure where the dream sequence in the chapter came from. Really, I'm not. I do have a story to back it up though! (looks proud of herself then quickly deflates) But it won't come for a while . . . Well, until that time, um . . . enjoy chapter nineteen, guys! And the freaky dreamy-ness, too!
- - -
He knew that noise. It was a threatening sound, one that chilled him to the very depths of his being. High, cold, and rattling, the sound continued, ricocheting off of the walls, bouncing around the room until it surrounded him entirely. And it kept coming, never stopping, growing louder with every second. Or maybe it had only sounded once and all he was hearing was its echo and nothing more. No, if it was an echo, no matter how loud the noise had been, it would have stopped by now. He had to see where it was . . . . find the source of the noise . . .
Instantly, Sands' eyes snapped open and he realized that he wasn't inside a room, but out in the middle of nowhere. It was a canyon, he realized, not a very large one but a canyon all the same. All around him the air was thick with heat and dust. Sands tried to breathe but inhaled a gust of dirt instead. Gagging and choking, he tried to stand, ignoring the sharp gravel as it dug into his arms and knees. He was nearly up when he heard it again. The chilling, rattling sound reverberated throughout the canyon, sending his thoughts spinning.
Twisting around, Sands found the cause of the noise laying just a few feet behind him. There, coiled up and shaking its tail threateningly, was a rattlesnake. One of the largest he had seen so far, and growing up in Colorado, he had seen quite a few of the poisonous serpents. Its tail was the obvious cause for all of the noises he had heard. It was the only sound in the entire canyon, and it only meant one thing: the snake was vexed, and it was going to strike.
Sands swallowed the growing lump in his throat and steadily began to back away. As he edged further away from danger, the snake unwound itself and slowly slithered after him. It wasn't going to give up easily.
'At the risk of sounding cliché,' Sands thought, trying not to panic, 'neither am I.'
Too bad you don't have a gun with you. Woulda been neat to see its head blown off, don't ya think?
'Yeah, whatever,' he replied, continuing to back away and never taking his eyes off of the snake. 'Fuck!'
Sands stopped, he had not been able to see where he was going without looking away from the snake. The results: cornered. The snake had caught him at a dead-end and soon the rocky wall he was pinned against would live up to its title.
The serpent opened its mouth, unhinging its jaw to make its bit bigger. Sands' eyes widened as he saw the two venomous fangs that were hanging from the snake's upper jaw. The snake hissed, its tail rattling dangerously. His eyes feverishly scanning the terrain, Sands knew he was out of options. He had nowhere to go, nothing to ward the snake off with, he was trapped.
The snake hissed, reminding him that it was still there. Its tail shuddering horribly, it crouched low, ready to pounce; prepared to sink its two inch-long fangs into his flesh. Closing his eyes in a horrible grimace, Sands braced himself for the attack.
Gasping and panting for breath, Sands shot up in bed, staring wildly around for danger. Propping himself up on his elbows, Sands glanced around. The snake was gone, as was the dusty canyon he had been trapped inside of. Breathing fast, he felt as though he had just fallen thirty feet and landed on top of his bed. But it wasn't his bed, he noticed, as he continued to take in the scene around him, though he had slept in this bed many times. Turning his head to his right, Sands looked down at the woman who was lying next to him.
As if sensing she was being watched, the woman opened her brownish-rusty colored eyes slowly. When she saw Sands looking down at her, a small smile passed over her face.
"Anything wrong?" she asked, looking every bit the concerned lover.
"No," Sands answered, laying down again this time making to wrap his arm around her. Ajedrez moved away.
"I thought you forgave me," Sands said.
"I forgave you for being late with the information," Ajedrez corrected.
"So you forgave me," Sands said slowly, "I'm sorry, but somehow I had the idea that forgiveness meant you were no longer mad at me."
"I forgave you, yes," she said, nodding, "but I'm still mad at you. Not for being late, though."
Sands arched his eyebrows. "Oh?"
She shook her head. "No. I'm mad at you for leaving me alone with HER while YOU went out and had your tequila."
"With lime," Sands couldn't help but add. He smirked, but when Ajedrez rolled her eyes and glared at him, he pulled a serious face that should have fooled anyone else. "What did Lyn say and/or do now?"
Ajedrez shrugged nonchalantly and said, "We got to talking after you had left. I said some things, she said some things . . . nothing the other wanted to hear. She started going on about what she was doing here in Mexico – "
"Restoring the balance?" Sands guessed.
"Si, that," said Ajedrez with another roll of her eyes. "I told her my thoughts on that, then she pulled out a gun and took a shot at me."
To her surprise, Sands didn't seem at all shocked by his sister's behavior. Ajedrez looked at him expectantly, but he said nothing and stared at her, waiting for her to go on.
"She missed, as you can see," she continued, annoyed at her boyfriend's lack of response. "and you would think that you would be more relieved at that knowledge."
Sands shrugged and said simply, "Lynnie's always like that, niña. She may take a shot at you, but she doesn't mean any harm."
Ajedrez stared at him in disbelief for a moment.
"Are you defending her?" she demanded quietly.
The smirk was back on Sands' face in an instant.
"Of course not . . . I'm just . . . explaining my sister as best as I can. Now, while she may seem a bit dangerous, for the most part, she'll all right. Although . . . I wouldn't recommend making enemies with her."
"Mmm," Ajedrez murmured thoughtfully as she leaned into the curve of his body. "Does it run in the family?"
"It depends . . ." Sands replied as she turned over to face him. "on who you are and what you can do."
"Really?" she asked, running a finger along his collarbone casually.
Sands smiled diabolically, watching her as she leaned in to kiss him.
"Yeah . . ."
- - -
Sands awoke with a start. Shaking his head to clear his fogged mind, he reached a hand up to run his fingers along the edge of one of his empty eye sockets. A sharp stinging sensation told him that he was truly awake this time and not caught in the past or deep within the realms of some confusing nightmare.
With a sigh, Sands tilted his head, waiting for the sounds around him to tell him what time of day it was. It didn't work. The honking of cars, whirring of wheels, and screeching of brakes went on constantly in New York City, no matter what the hour. He'd have to rely on temperature, then.
It was cold. Yeah, that helped. When, aside from the times he was soaked with heat, wasn't he cold? Besides, hotels were always icy for some reason.
Yeah, his voice mused thoughtfully, they ARE always cold. What's up with THAT?
'Couldn't tell ya to save my life,' Sands told it calmly.
Picturing the voice sticking its tongue out at him, Sands smirked, much to the voice's chagrin.
Where the hell is everyone anyway? it snapped, irked and definitely wanting to change the subject.
'Gee, I'm not sure,' Sands replied, his tone falsely concerned. 'It's kinda hard for me to tell, ya know?'
Oh fuck off. And the voice went silent, brooding.
'Maybe I should,' Sands thought, more to himself than the voice. 'That's what everyone else seems to have done.'
"Oh," came a voice, sounding slightly surprised, "you're awake."
'Well, not everyone.'
"Lynné, what are you doing here?" he asked aloud, sounding bored.
"Funny," his sister replied coolly, "I was under the impression that this was my room as well as yours. Apparently I was wrong."
Sands shook his head, glaring up at her.
"You're never wrong."
"Don't remind me," Lyn said. Though her words were meant to be light and sarcastic, Sands felt certain he had detected a hint of bitterness behind them. But maybe he was just imagining things.
Don't bet on it.
'I thought you were off in your corner sulking?'
"Liam's out scheduling an appointment to see his brother," Lyn was saying, "and Grace has gone" – she sighed with heavy disgust – "shopping."
"Shopping?" Sands repeated, his eyebrows raising a fraction.
"Shopping." She sighed again and shook her head. "I suppose it's her way of letting off tension. The more stressed she is, the more she'll shop."
Sands grinned wryly.
"Bloomie's won't know what hit it."
"Mmmhmm," Lyn murmured in agreement, though she seemed somewhat distracted. Sure enough, the distinct sounds of someone rummaging through suitcases and duffel bags filled the air, confirming Sands' suspicions. Even though he felt certain Lyn was in search of something, he didn't say anything in case he was mistaken. But when Sands heard his sister mutter, "Goddamn it – where is that thing . . . ?" he couldn't keep quiet any longer.
"What're you looking for? Guns?"
"You know I'd never loose something like that . . ." she said bemusedly.
"What did you loose, then?"
"You know that blonde wig of mine?" Lyn sighed.
Sands paused for a moment, thinking. Finally he said, "The one that makes you look like Marylyn Monroe?"
He was sure Lyn rolled her eyes when she answered him.
"No, no, the other one."
Sands shrugged.
"Couldn't tell ya, sugar-butt."
Lynné halted in her search for her missing wig to turn to Sands, a cold smirk forming across her face.
"Thanks a lot, cheese-dick."
- - -
Sands flinched involuntarily as a nurse stuck a hypodermic needle into his arm, injecting him with a toxin that would ward off possible infections. He had never liked needles, and, after having one driven into his neck, he wasn't too keen to have it done again. Anywhere. Unfortunately, Doctor Liam's Brother had insisted on giving him three different shots the first day he saw him. Two would fight infections, the other was used to draw his blood for testing.
"Sorry," the nurse muttered hastily when Sands glared at her as he rubbed his arm.
"There," Liam's brother said calmly, pulling on a pair of laytex gloves, "that wasn't so bad, now, was it?"
Sands replied by raising his hand and extending his middle finger in the direction of the doctor's voice.
'Why do they always say that after they give you shots? I'd like to see him take three at a time.'
The voice started to say something, eager to point out a flaw in what he had just said, but Sands cut it off abruptly.
'Not – one – word.'
"Well," Adam said briskly, "I guess I should tell my brother that's it's safe to come in now. . . . He and his . . ." He trailed off, looking curiously at Sands.
"Partner," he answered shortly.
The doctor's eyes widened in surprise (the nurse standing next to him looked slightly put off, but brightened again when she began regarding Sands in a new light).
"Oh?" Adam asked, trying to keep his voice light and causal. "And when did this . . . happen?"
Sands would have rolled his eyes if he had any.
"Since they were both sent to Mexico together on a mission for the CIA. Hence, PARTNERS."
"Oh," Adam said again, now looking somewhat disappointed. His nurse had yet to realize that she had been wrong in thinking that Liam wasn't available – she was still gazing at Sands. Still looking rather disheartened, Adam opened the door to and stuck his head into the small waiting room outside his office. There, sitting on two plastic chairs just outside his door, was his brother and the woman he could only assume was his patient-to-be's sister. She was a rather attractive woman: average height, slender, just shapely enough. She shared many noticeable facial features with the blind man in his office, save for the fact that (unless she was hiding two gaping holes behind her sunglasses too) she still had her eyes. The only thing he couldn't figure out was her hair. It didn't seem to fit her at all. In fact, if he hadn't known any better, he could have sworn that her long, loose, golden-blonde curls were fake.
"Liam? Miss Sands?"
The two both rose from their seats and followed Adam into his office. Inside, Sands was rolling the sleeves of his shirt back down, scowling at Adam the entire time. Lynné, noticing this, just managed to overcome the urge to snicker, her blonde curls bobbing up and down as her shoulders shook just the slightest bit. But she composed herself so quickly that no one even noticed. She shouldn't be laughing, anyway. After all, she didn't like needles any more than Sands did. Instead, she turned to Liam's brother and spoke.
"So," she began conversationally, "what's the diagnosis? Is this going to be easier, harder, somewhere in between . . .?"
Adam cleared his throat, casting a nervous glance in Sands' direction.
"Um, well, the person we first preformed the surgery on, ah, already had their . . eyes, so it . . it, the operation, was much more complicated," he continued, more strongly than before, "but since he . . . he lacks that . . . quality . . . it will be. . .easier. Yes."
Lynné uttered a soft "Oh" of understanding and nodded her head.
"The only question is," Adam said carefully, turning to Sands, "are you willing to go through with it?"
Sands sighed, turning his head towards the three of them.
"So what are my chances?" he asked, not waiting for a response. "There's a twenty percent chance of staying this way, a fifty percent chance of regaining my eyesight, and a thirty percent chance of death."
He sighed again, and continued in a would-be-causal voice.
"Well, what're we waiting for?"
- - -
Hmm . . . I dunno, but something tells me that there should be more to that. I'm glad I got the flashback with Ajedrez written, though. Something (and I'm sure it's not Sands this time 9.9) has been bugging me to write that one. .O Oh, and I'm nearly ninety percent sure that there IS a reason for the dream about the snake. (mysteriously) Waaaait aaaaaand seeeeeee . . . .
.