15
“What’s the last thing you remember?” I helped Clay knot his suit jacket like an apron to cover his front. His anatomy was his business. No one else’s. Sadly, his backside was a view we all had to endure. “Let’s start there.”
The note Dad had pressed into his hand resided in my pocket, but I hadn’t worked up the nerve to read it. Clay didn’t know who it was meant for, and if it wasn’t intended for me, I wasn’t sure I could deal with Dad passing me over again.
“We were on our way here...” He scratched his scalp and earned ashy fingertips. “Where’s my hair?”
“The dragon got your wig too.” I took his hand and led him to an out-of-the-way space. I helped him sit on a carpet of pine needles beneath the trees and lean against a trunk. “It was Parish.”
“Why was Parish here?” He shifted to get comfortable. “Fucking pine needles.”
“You’re having a short-term memory problem.” I touched his shoulder. “Just stay put, okay?”
“I’m not going out there naked. The world isn’t ready for that.”
“I’ll stay with him,” Colby volunteered. “I don’t want him to forget again and wander off.”
“Good call.” I helped her out of my shirt then set her on his shoulder. “I’ll be back soon.”
Without a handy pocket to hide in, Colby was exposed. But, I rationalized, she could fly up into the trees if she required cover. Plus, naked Clay would prove a distraction if he was discovered before I got back to him. That would give her time to escape.
“Do me a favor.” I handed her the note. “Does this have any bearing on our present circumstances?”
Chicken I might be, but idiot I was not. I couldn’t afford to ignore what might prove to be a lifesaving tip, even if I wanted to believe ignorance was bliss for a while longer.
“No,” she said softly and passed it back. “You can read it later.”
“It’s for me?” I bit my tongue, but it was too late. She was already nodding. “Okay.” I forced a smile. “Later then.”
After a quick sweep of the area, both to ensure Clay and Colby were secure and to escape her pity, I went in search of Asa.
Cleanup on this scale required professionals, but I couldn’t help spinning out possible scenarios.
Earthquakes got a bad rap in monster-infested cities, but it wasn’t a popular excuse in Mississippi. Hurricane would have worked better, but those didn’t appear out of thin air. Tornado?
With the options available to me, that sounded the most believable.
An EF5 was nicknamed the Finger of God for a reason. Damage from those storms was catastrophic.
“Rue.” Asa flagged me down. “Over here.”
After jogging across the street, I smacked into his chest, breathless. It was the exercise. Not the urge to sob on his shoulder about my daddy issues. He gathered me against him and kissed my forehead as if he sensed the wild spin of my thoughts. Too soon, he released me, and we were forced back to the task at hand.
He had corralled nineteen people in a sub shop and offered to pay for their food if they waited out some vague emergency important enough for the FBI to be on scene. That had done the trick, but now I had a lot of memories to wipe and not much time to do it.
Small events gave you a larger window to act. Big events dug in and seized hold of the mind, rooting the memory. If I screwed this up, these people were at risk of being tornado victims on the nightly news.
“I can erase this event,” I confided in Asa, “and I can suggest an excuse, but I can’t create a true memory.”
Better that they lost an hour of time than their lives. The showdown outside had disastrous potential if even one person filmed Dad or Parish in their other forms and uploaded it to their social media sites. I didn’t have any mind-altering tea for them to drink, which meant I had to reach into their brains and jiggle the wires myself.
“I called the cleaners after I rounded up everyone,” he assured me. “They’ll handle the fine-tuning.”
“Good.” I wanted to shut my eyes and sleep for a week. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all night.”
As I approached the first table, I noticed a kid eating dino nuggets and inspiration struck.
“Can I have everyone’s attention, please?”