Chapter 47: Homeward

By the time everyone woke up the next morning, Jeremy had already scoured the papers for any mention of last night's events. He'd found nothing. On the radio, a local station reported that hydro crews were still working to recover power lost last night in a Cabbagetown neighborhood, but before the newscast even ended, they announced that the problem had been fixed. That was it—one blown transformer, already repaired. Not a single mention of a whiskered man in a bowler hat.

Buffy sat on the bed with Savannah just holding her and hugging her. Trying to comfort the girl. When Savannah had woken up still blinded, she had become hysterical. It took a few minutes for Buffy to calm her down.

"So, we're leaving?" Dawn said as Jeremy folded a shirt and put it into his bag. "We may have unleashed Jack the Ripper, and we're just going home?"

For a second Buffy glared at her sister for the fact that she was obsessed with the letter and Jack the Ripper and not her niece.

Dawn moved to the foot of the bed where she could see Jeremy's face. "You do think that's what we did, don't you? Unleashed Jack the Ripper?"

"Because we dropped a dead mosquito onto a letter possibly written by the man over a hundred years ago?" Jeremy said.

Dawn thumped onto the bed. "My hormones are acting up again, aren't they?"

Jeremy only gave Dawn his crooked smile as he took his pants from the chair, then said, "Considering some of the things we've seen and some of the things you and Buffy have seen yourselves, it's not as crazy as it sounds. Something did happen last night, something…unusual."

Dawn remembered Buffy's reactions, the odd look on her sister's face when she'd seen the smoke.

"That guy didn't come from a community theater production," she said.

Buffy sighed as she looked at her sister. "No, he didn't. At first, I thought he was Whistler. But he wasn't. But something was off. Couple that with the transformer exploding. It was definitely, supernatural."

"Do you think it's tied to the letter?" Dawn asked.

Buffy sighed; she wasn't sure. "I don't know. Give it a rest, okay," she said as Dawn looked at her and Savannah. "My concern is primarily for Savannah. That said I would be forsaking my duties as a Slayer if we didn't check into the letter before we hand it over. I want to make sure we didn't do something. After we make sure Savannah can see again. I am going to go against my better judgment and have her …"

"Try and sense if there is anything magical about it," Dawn said and nodded. Then a thought occurred to her, the mosquito. It had bitten her before Buffy had swatted it. "Buffy, do you think?"

"Your blood," Buffy said. "That was why I wanted to have Savannah sense if it was magical in anyway."

Dawn put her hands against her belly and willed herself to feel a kick, a jab, some sign of life…

"You can listen with the stethoscope when we get home, Aunt Dawn," Savannah said softly.

Jeremy and Dawn looked at Savannah as if to ask how. Was her eyesight back? They looked; Savannah's eyes were still white.

"Dawn?" Jeremy asked.

"I don't know," Dawn said. "Savannah, honey. How did you know what I was doing or thinking?"

"I saw through mom's eyes," Savannah said.

"The telepathic link between Savannah and Buffy must be open," Dawn said. "Buffy look at Savannah."

Buffy turned and looked at her daughter. "Savannah, what do you see?"

"Me," Savannah said. "My eyes are white. Are they going to stay like that?"

"No, honey," Buffy said. "We'll fix them.

"Savannah must be using her telepathy somehow to look through Buffy's eyes," Dawn said.

"How is that even possible?" Jeremy asked.

"I have no idea," Dawn said. "I wish I did. We have to remember that Savannah maybe even more powerful than I am."

They had a late breakfast before leaving. There was a restaurant in their hotel, but it didn't open until noon, so they popped over to a place a few doors down and ate there.

They were walking back—driving the short distance had been more trouble than it was worth—when Dawn caught a whiff of something that stopped her midstride. Savannah stopped also, causing Buffy to stop with her. Dawn looked to her niece as Jeremy and Clay took another few steps before realizing the sisters and Savannah were no longer between them. Jeremy stayed where he was, as Clay circled back.

"What's up?" Clay asked.

Dawn tilted her head and inhaled, then rubbed my nose and made a face. "I hate that. You catch the faintest smell, your brain says 'hey, that's someone I know,' then it's gone."

"Savannah?" Buffy said.

"What does your Slayer senses feel like, mom?" Savannah asked.

Clay looked around. They were in the middle of a strip of grass between the road and the hotel parking lot. Cars zoomed past, but there was no one around. A busy road and no sidewalks didn't invite pedestrian traffic.

"They're hard to describe, honey," Buffy said.

"Maybe someone you knew drove by with the window down." He glanced at the strip mall to their right. "Or stopped here."

Dawn nodded. "Probably, whatever—whoever—it was, it's gone now."

"Dawn, do you still have the sight that tells you where a Slayer is?" Buffy asked as they caught up with Jeremy and headed for the SUV.

"Yes, I will have it forever." Dawn said. "I can feel …" Dawn stopped and looked at Savannah.

"What?" Jeremy and Buffy asked.

"Savannah's been Chosen," Dawn said and just as she said it, Savannah's eyes cleared.

Jeremy, Buffy, Clay and Dawn looked at each other and then Savannah.

"Is it typical for a Slayer to be called so early?" Jeremy asked.

"According to Giles any time after the start of puberty and before the age of eighteen," Dawn said.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

They pulled off at the Darien Lake exit to fuel up with gas and food. They would stop for lunch in a restaurant outside Rochester, but it had been two hours since breakfast, and their stomachs were complaining. Especially Savannah's, whose Slayer metabolism was already demanding the energy it needed.

Jeremy shooed them off to the store, getting them away from the fuel fumes. Inside, Dawn and Savannah scooped up a doughnut and chocolate milk each. Convenience food—they didn't offer much else.

The store was busy, there were only two cashiers, and one was fiddling with her register, so the lineup stretched back to the refrigerators. People kept brushing past Dawn and Savannah to get to the pop fridge. A passing trucker jostled Savannah's shoulder so hard she wobbled back into the shelf. She was still getting used to her new Slayer reflexes. He reached to catch Savannah, blasting coffee breath and halitosis in her face. Another hand caught Savannah from behind. Clay glared at the trucker, who mumbled something vaguely apologetic and shambled past.

Clay took Dawn's and Savannah's milk cartons and doughnuts, and piled them onto his, Buffy's and Jeremy's snacks.

"Hey," grumbled a man behind them. "There's a line here, you know. You can't just—"

Clay turned and looked at him, and the man's mouth snapped shut.

Dawn leaned out to see why the line wasn't moving.

"You okay, Aunt Dawn?" Savannah whispered.

Dawn swept a glance around. "Just … claustrophobic, sweetie."

Clay shifted over, his hip brushing Dawn's. "Savannah, why don't you take your Aunt Dawn outside? Get some air."

"I'm—" Dawn said.

Clay bumped Dawn with his hip, causing his stack of junk food to sway. "Go. Stretch your legs. There's a field out back, isn't there? Behind the building?"

"Yes," said Savannah.

"Find a picnic spot then. Grab Jeremy and Buffy and I'll meet you four there."

"Thanks," Dawn said as Savannah led her out the door.

Jeremy was just outside the doors, eying one of the new SUVs.

"Looking for a trade-up on the Explorer?" I asked.

"I was thinking of you."

"I have a car," Dawn said.

"Which is half dead, has no air bags, no child restraints, and is definitely not baby-friendly." He waved at the SUV wannabe. "This is cute."

"Cute? It looks like a minihearse. Yes, I know I'll need something new. But not that. And if you mention minivan—"

"I wouldn't dare."

"Where's Buffy?" Dawn asked.

"Restroom," Jeremy said.

Dawn nodded as Savannah told him Clay's picnic plan.

"That's fine," Jeremy said. "I need to use the restroom. You two can wait for me, Buffy or Clay, if he comes out first, I'll meet you all out back."

He started to walk past Dawn and Savannah, then stopped to watch a vehicle pull in a few spots down. A Mercedes SUV.

"Perhaps something like that," he said. "It's a luxury vehicle, sure to have all the top safety features, plus be quite reliable in bad weather, but not as big and unwieldy as the Explorer. I'm sure you'd find it quite peppy."

"Peppy? That's almost as bad as 'cute.'" Dawn said.

"It would be the perfect vehicle for a—"

"Suburban soccer mom," Buffy said as she walked up. "Jeremy trying to pick out a new car for you again?"

Dawn nodded.

"Jeremy, while I agree Dawn needs a new car. And I probably need to get my license and get a car because of Savannah. But that is not Dawn's style," Buffy said. "Not her. Not now. Not ever."

Dawn nodded. "I'll find something. But not—" She looked at the Mercedes and shivered. "That."

He shook his head and walked toward the building.

Buffy, Dawn and Savannah followed the walkway along the north side of the service center. Behind the building, the path cut on a diagonal to the southwest truckers' lot.

Buffy, Savannah and Dawn thought the swamp was what they'd smelled when they first picked up the scent of something heavy and overripe. Buffy had been surprised that Savannah's sense of smell had improved, hers hadn't when she had been called. The smell came on the south wind, blowing toward the swamp, not from it. The scent carried other notes too, all human—the smell of unwashed body and unwashed clothes, male, seemingly healthy, but underlain with that faint scent of over ripeness. Of … rot.

It was the same scent Buffy had smelled on the man in the bowler yesterday. Not sickness but rot, so faint she had to get a noseful before she was sure. They realized it was the same thing they'd smelled walking back from the restaurant after breakfast.

The sisters dismissed it. No one—and nothing—could track them like that. They were 185 miles from Cabbagetown. Even they would've lost the trail the moment they'd driven away last night.

Unlike the sisters Savannah didn't dismiss it; she could sense something on the edge of her new Slayer senses. She didn't mention it to her mother or her aunt. Because since the Slayer senses were new to her she had no way of know what it was she was sensing.

Dawn, Savannah and Buffy glimpsed a figure darting between the rigs in the southwest lot, and caught another whiff of that distinctive scent. They realized someone was following them, possibly hoping to cut them off when they were far enough from the service center, and from their male companions. They thought about waiting for Jeremy and Clay but knew that it would spook their stalker. Dawn stopped to tie her shoes and scope out the playing field.

Dawn looked to Buffy and Savannah and communicated telepathically her plan. Her niece and sister agreed that the thirty-foot-wide storage silo to their right was their best shot since it was closest.

With a half-dozen strides, Buffy, Dawn and Savannah were close enough to touch the silo, and they started circling toward the back. Quick steps pattered over the pavement—someone running across the parking lot, footfalls too heavy to be Clay or Jeremy, the slightly awkward clomp of one unaccustomed to silent hunting.

The sisters and Savannah caught a whiff on the breeze, heavy with rot. On that same breeze Buffy and Dawn recognized more familiar smell. Clay was coming, getting closer. The sisters and Savannah picked up their pace to lure their pursuer farther behind the silo.

The clomping footsteps sped up, closing the gap. Closing in fast. Buffy and Savannah spun around putting themselves between Dawn and their pursuer. They found Savannah was two feet away from being skewered by a butcher's knife.

Buffy kicked out low at their pursuer, snagging his calf and yanking. As he fell, the blade veered her way, but she skated out of the way. Savannah stayed back to protect Dawn. While Buffy had taught her some self-defense in the preparation for the activation of her Slayer powers. She was nowhere near adept enough or even ready to face an attacker. Buffy pounced onto his back and he crumpled, arms flying out, knife pinging off the side of the silo and tumbling to the grass.

A shadow crossed over Buffy's head, but she stayed where she was, on all fours on the man's back.

"You want me to take that for you, Buffy?"

"Please," Buffy said.

Clay put his foot onto the man's neck and pressed down until he let out a strangled grunt. Buffy recovered the knife—the sort that graces gourmet home kitchens everywhere, and rarely carve anything more than takeout rotisserie chicken.

"Impressive." Buffy gave it a trial swing and made a face. "Unwieldy, though." She knelt beside the man. It was definitely him—though he'd gotten rid of the bowler hat. He'd shaved his whiskers and changed into modern dress—ill-fitting slacks and a golf shirt that looked expensive enough to have come from the same house as the knife.

He tried to stay facedown, but Clay booted the other side of the man's head and kicked his face toward Buffy. Then he pressed harder on the man's neck so he couldn't turn away again.

Sweat beaded on the man's forehead, but he only curled his lip. Buffy adjusted her grip, lifted the knife, then plunged it down a handbreadth from the man's face. After a second, he opened his eyes. He stared at the knife, buried to the hilt in the ground.

"Who are you?" Buffy asked.

He didn't answer.

"Where'd you come from?" Buffy said.

His lips pulled back, showing blackened teeth and the missing incisor she'd noticed the night before. "From hell."

"Good," Clay said. "Then we'll know where to send you."

Jeremy rounded the silo, walking fast, then saw them and slowed.

They spent the next few minutes interrogating the man. Who was he? Where did he come from? How did he find them? Why did he come after them? He wasn't talking. A more thorough "interrogation" was out of the question here, in midday.

"Let's see if we can get him someplace better." Jeremy looked around, then nodded at the swamp. "Down there."

As Clay yanked the man to his feet, Buffy stood, brushed herself off and turned to walk around the silo with her sister and Savannah. A shadow leapt behind them, splayed on the sunlit side of the tank. The three of them wheeled to see the man in Clay's grip, caught in mid-lunge, his gaze on Jeremy. Buffy, Dawn and Savannah leapt forward to knock Jeremy out of the way, but Clay already had his forearm around the man's neck.

"Try that again," Clay hissed against his ear, "and I—"

The man wrenched forward, as if still trying to attack Jeremy, but so far away that Jeremy didn't even move. Clay jerked the man back, more warning than genuine effort. A sensible man would have felt that iron grip, seen how far he was from his target and noticed he'd lost his chance at a surprise attack. But he kept struggling, kicking and swinging. When his fist swung a little too close to Dawn, Clay jerked him back, hard. A dull snap, like the crunch of celery. The man went limp in Clay's grip.

"Goddamn it!" Clay muttered; teeth clenched to keep his voice down. "I'm sorry, Jer. I didn't mean—"

Jeremy waved off the apology and took the knife as Clay lowered the body to the ground.

"Standard self-defense advice," Buffy said. "Never let yourself be taken to the second location. He knew we weren't taking him there for a pleasant chat."

Jeremy nodded, then knelt and put his fingers to his neck.

"Dead?" Savannah asked as she shuddered. She had seen dead bodies before. Those in the compound when Buffy, Dawn, Clay and Adam had come back to get her. Too a small degree it still bothered her.

"Presuming he had a pulse before." Clay said as he backed up onto his haunches, his nose wrinkled.

"Smells pretty ripe, huh? Maybe it's just me, but I swear it's getting stronger."

"It's certainly not getting better." Jeremy looked around. "We'll need to dispose of the body…"

"Swamp's best," Clay said. "Unless you want him to take a little trip in the back of a transport."

The man moved. Buffy jumped forward instinctively, getting between Savannah, Dawn and Jeremy and danger. Clay stomped on the man's neck. His foot passed clean through to the ground.

"What the—?"

The body jerked again and this time, they saw that the movement was the man's body collapsing into itself like a rotting melon. There was a whispering crackle as the body stiffened and went hard. Then it just…disintegrated.

"Huh, guess that solves the disposal problem." Clay watched the sprinkling of dust settle into the grass. "Wish all my corpses would do that."

"Yeah so do I," Buffy said. "At least vamps are nice. No mess, no fuss. But I know of no demon other than vamps that do that. And he was out in the daytime, plus no one staked him. So how did he dust?"

"Buffy, there is another explanation," Dawn said.

Buffy sighed. "Zombie. But he didn't act like the ones I fought."

"Mom, Aunt Dawn," Savannah said. "I didn't say it before. But I think I sensed him. Since I haven't had my Slayer senses for very long, I didn't know what to make of them."

"It's okay, sweetie," Buffy said. "Mine were going off on the guy to."

Jeremy finished wiping off the knife, and then whipped it. The knife flew about a hundred feet before landing in the swamp with a splash. "Dawn? Buffy? I'd like you two to follow his trail. Perhaps we can figure out how he got here … and make sure he came alone."

That was easy. Not only did the taint of rot give it away, but his path went straight around the south side of the service center and into the front lot. He'd known exactly where the sisters and Savannah were.

The trail led to the nearly empty northeast corner. Only one car was there—a burgundy midsize with Ontario plates. As they drew closer, they could see red streaks on the driver-side window.

"Don't slow down," Jeremy murmured as the three of us continued our stroll. "When we walk alongside it, glance inside, but we'll keep heading for the road. Savannah, stay beside me but don't look inside."

"I won't," Savannah said.

Inside the car a man's body lay stretched over the front seats, pushed down out of sight, his wide eyes staring at the roof, throat gaping open.

"Keep going," Jeremy murmured.

They walked to the road, then headed along the front of the service center.

"Chauffeured at knifepoint," Dawn said.

"So, it would appear," Jeremy said. "I was keeping a watch behind us, but I don't recall seeing that vehicle—or seeing it for long enough to appear suspicious."

"Meaning he followed at a distance," Savannah suggested.

"Doesn't matter," Clay said. "He's gone. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, time to go home."

"It must be the letter, right?" Dawn asked. "We did something with that letter last night, and opened a time hole into the nineteenth century—"

Clay snorted.

Dawn turned on him. "Oh, sorry, is my explanation a little too far-fetched for you? Or did you forget how long Buffy and I have been alive and how we got to the past."

"I know it's possible, darling. You and Buffy are living proof of that. But I'm just saying—" Clay started.

"That there could be another explanation. Sure. How's this? He's a mugger with retro fashion sense, and he was hiding under a sewer grate in Cabbagetown, waiting for a mark to wander past. That transformer fell, scared the shit out of him and he jumped from his hole and ran for his life. Then he saw us chasing him, realized we could identify him—by his serious BO if nothing else. He decided he had to take us out before we reported him to the police for sewage-hole trespassing with intent to commit robbery," Dawn said.

Jeremy motioned for them to resume walking. "I'll have to agree with Dawn. A supernatural explanation is most probable, something connected to the letter. Presumably, he came through a portal, much like the one Dawn said sent her originally into the past during her first trip and wanted the letter back."

"And was somehow able to track it after he got away last night," Buffy said.

"None of which matters," Clay said. "Because only one guy came through that portal, and now he's dust."

"True," Jeremy said. "With any luck, that's the end of it. But we'll need to make sure."

Clay opened his mouth to protest, but Jeremy continued. "It will be a quick trip. We go back, we scout the area, make sure nothing else has happened and there are no traces of anyone else passing through. If all goes well, which I expect it will, we'll be sleeping in our own beds tonight. Dawn, Buffy while we're doing that, I want to hear everything about the portal that sent you, Dawn, back alone the first time, how you came home and then the demon that sent you both back the second time. Maybe if we can discern how that was done? We can discern how this is being done."