Chapter 6
Barb did not know what she was getting into. And he could not stop her.
Part of him did not want to stop her. Something had to be done about the situation. He and Frank were trying, but they knew how long it would take, done through channels.
It clawed at him, the same as Roxanne's memory did. But while he could not help Roxanne, he could help Barb and the other girls.
He then knew what he could do.
It struck him, and twisted him, bringing back all his old fears and memories.
...The way things used to be...
It would be for a short time only. And for a good cause.
What if he found out that he liked it better that way? What if somehow he was pulled back into it?
It was crazy. And yet it was the best way to put pressure on then shopping center. It was a way of reminding them that safe transportation was to their own advantage., too.
If he did nothing, the girls would go on hitchhiking, taking chances nightly. And soon there would be another body...
If only he could be more sure of it. If only he didn't have this feeling that he was playing Russian roulette.
He found, without surprise, that he was again standing by Dave's grave.
"It seems that I can't keep away from here" he said apologetically "I hope that I don't look too ridiculous."
He sat down and laid his hand on the ground. "I have a tough decision to make, and I have the feeling that whatever I do I will regret it. I can either go the official route and hope for the best, or... or I can put real pressure on them."
"So put pressure?" he laughed nervously "Well, yes, the problem is what I mean by applying pressure... the way I used to be... the way I used to attack girls for their blood... I don't do that anymore. I can do it without violence, and without harm. I would not have it any other way..." his voice became deep "I need to do it with affection. I need affection as much as I need blood. I could not go back to ..to that without mutilating myself..
"Yet, if attacks like those were to be repeated on the shop girls, if there were constant reports of it in the newspaper, that would hurt hem, wouldn't it? The shopping center is out of town. Not everyone there knows about me. They would be scared if it made front page news. And the tourists would be scared too...
"Then, once they began to lose clients, they will see that it is to their advantage to give the girls safe transportation.
"I have a way to give those girls a safe ride home. Quickly. Not with all deliberate speed. But there would still be pain... I will be hurting time... For their own good, but I would be hurting them... On the other hand..."
"On the other hand you can always ask me to make the decision for you."
Barnabas straightened up, surprised. He had not truly expected Dave to show up. He only needed to get his worries off his chest somehow.
"Just look at you." Dave shook his head mockingly "If they ever gave out medals for stubbornness and wrong-headedness, you'd have trunkfuls by now."
"I...I am sorry."
"Can't you say anything else? You sound too much like a broken record."
"All right." Barnabas fought to control himself. No sentimental displays, he reminded himself "What do you suggest I do?"
"What do you want?"
"I want to.. to get that bus service... but not this way... is there another?"
"Yours is the fastest."
"So it is a good idea."
"Except for the toll it will take on you."
"Either way it will cost me."
"Then if you do it, you'll have at least something to show for it."
Oriana was tired when she arrived to Collinsport. And with fatigue, some self-doubt that crept into her. What guarantee did she have that Barnabas was interested in her? Wasn't all of it an exercise in futility?
But he had been tempted. That time his lips had found her throat, she had been aware of his roving hands. He had wanted her. Had wanted her body. A few words and they would have been in bed together.
Maybe now it would be different. Maybe this time his hands would venture further...
Phillip was there, and with him a pale woman that kept shooting nervous glances around.
"Are you sure you don't want to go to the beach?" she heard Phillip offer the nervous woman "I can get you a swimsuit."
"No thanks." Vicky answered "maybe tomorrow.."
Oriana klaxonned, making both of them look at her.
"Hey, do you recognize me?"
Phillip ran to her as she was lowering her bag.
"Are you planning to stay?"
"Unless I am too much of an inconvenience. Who's the waif?" she asked pointed to Vicky with her chin.
"Victoria Winters."
"She's Barnabas' current project, I gather." she could not help sounding jealous.
"Like Amy" Phillip said quickly " And what brings you here?
"I want to do a follow up story on the Davenport Center. Maybe an in-depth view of the tribe. I never got the interview with Munsungan that Barnabas promised me."
Phillip sighed. What Oriana wanted wasn't an article. But he could not send her away. It was up to Barnabas.
And maybe she would be good for Vicky.
He helped bring her bag in.
"We gave Vicky your room" he explained. "but I'll get you another one. this place is big enough."
"It'll do." she said, as Phillip showed it to her. She sat on the bed. "What is the story, anyway?"
"I don't know if you'll believe it."
"I have come to believe plenty here. Come tell me."
Phillip spread his hands. "Vicky is a time traveler. She was catatonic until recently. Her latest memories are of 1796. And before that, 1968."
Oriana could not repress a low whistle.
"That is really something."
"What's worse, she's afraid of Barnabas. Seems that between the two of them certain things happened, and she can't forget them."
"What kind of things.?"
"Barnabas was very attached to her. Enough for him to consider making him as he was...is."
"And should she stay here?"
"That's worrying Barnabas too. The problem is that she doesn't have anyone else she could move in. She has no friends. She was close to Maggie Evans, and Maggie is now in Washington. There is Carolyn, but Collinwood is the last place I'd send somebody as fragile as her... Maybe Willie will take her in."
"It would be best if he did." Even as a project, she did not like to have Vicky around.
"You still circulating Anderson petitions?" Chris asked Amy.
"We have to get him on the ballot this election. If we don't we are stuck with Carter or Reagan."
"I know... I know... Sit down Amy. I want to talk to you."
"But I have to..."
"It can wait. Come, sit, little sister."
Amy sat down reluctantly.
"You can't get Tom out of your mind, is that it?"
Amy nodded.
"I thought so. The way you look... it was the same when the reporter came back. She expected me to do God knows what." he shuddered. "As if she expected me to do to again...what she saw Tom doing."
"But she is wrong!" Amy protested hotly... maybe too hotly.
"You say that, and you want to believe that. But inside you doubt. Am I Chris or am I Tom? You can't be sure." he laid one hand on Amy's shoulder.
In spite of herself Amy recoiled.
"You see, you are afraid of me."
"I don't want to be." Amy said miserably.
"I know you don't. I know that you are trying to act as if nothing happened."
"It wasn't your fault."
"That's not the point. We have to talk about it." Chris bit his lip. "we have to get it clear between us. I can live with people looking at me in odd ways. But not my sister. I lost one brother already. I don't want to lose you too."
"Tom..."
"Our brother was a psychopathic killer. We have to face it. But we also loved him, and nothing can change that, either. Something snapped in his mind. I will love him no less because of that."
"He used to take me to the movies." Amy was close to tears. "he'd bring me candy and play games with me... Then he stopped doing it."
"They never could tell us apart" Chris said softly "we used to fool the teacher all the time, reciting the lesson fort the other, and things like that."
"He once made a doll for me, all by himself...I think I still have it. Do you want to see it?"
