Thin Air Page 0,65

into the pocket of my jeans with a mental promise to ditch them in the first trash can I passed. "Up and at 'em, kid."

She giggled drunkenly. "I'm not the kid! You're the kid!"

Not at the moment, I wasn't.

Getting Sarah dressed was an effort. While she figured out the complexities of pants, I ransacked her closet, shoved what passed for her wardrobe into a bag-Louis Vuitton, evidently a souvenir of better days-and added the few personal touches she had around the trailer. Especially the photographs. I lingered over the one of our mother, and I ached to ask...but I didn't dare. So far, I thought I'd danced around the subject of memory pretty well with her, but one false move and everything could fall apart.

It was depressingly easy to remove all traces of Sarah from what was supposed to be her home. I supposed it was possible to look on it as freewheeling independence, but it just seemed really creepy as hell. A reminder of just how easily a life could be erased from the world.

Eamon didn't help, literally or figuratively. When I ushered Sarah back out into the living room and got her sitting on the couch, weaving and blinking, Eamon was finishing off a fresh glass of whiskey. "Ah," he said with that slow, all-knowing smile. "I see you're ready."

"Yes," I said, and thumped the suitcase down next to the door. "Where are we going?"

"California," he said. "Land of fruits and nuts, they say. You ought to be right at home."

I thought, somehow, that Sarah would have looked pleased-after all, pretty much anywhere in California had to be an improvement over the current situation, and she'd talked about living in the same zip code with Mel Gibson. But instead she looked mortified. Scared, even. "No," she said. "No, I don't want to go to California. Jo, why can't we go back to Florida? I liked Florida. It was nice, and-"

Eamon interrupted as if she hadn't even opened her mouth. "I suppose you could do this from anywhere, but I'd like to actually be there to see it, if you don't mind. Not that I don't trust you, but...well, I don't trust you."

"Ditto," I said grimly. "Oh, and you're not driving, jerk. Give me the keys."

"But I don't want to go to California!" Sarah repeated, half a wail.

"Okay," I said. "Want to stay here? Alone?"

She looked from me to Eamon, back to me. Eyes wide and still medically dilated.

And she burst into an addict's helpless tears.

"I'll take that as a no," I said, and got her under the arm to help her up. "So let's get moving."

The instant I banged open the rickety front door of the trailer and stepped down onto the cinder-block steps, Louis Vuitton suitcase in hand, I knew something was wrong out there. There was a sense of stillness, of the world not quite breathing. No birds in the sky, no wind. It was the weightless moment before the ground crumbles under your feet, and you fall, screaming.

I froze. Maybe the old me would have known what to do, but the new, not-so-improved me had no earthly idea what the right move might be. I just waited for the hammer to fall.

She's looking for me. I held myself completely still, completely silent, until I felt the shadow drift away. Maybe this was how the rabbit felt when the shadow of the hawk moved overhead. It was humbling and horrifying, and I had no idea how I was supposed to react except that I had a deep, burning desire to get the hell out. Come on, Venna, I thought. If you're not too busy braiding your hair.

I finally let myself draw in a breath, blinked, and came down the two unstable steps to the soft, sandy ground. It still felt strange, but maybe it was just me. Maybe I was just paranoid.

You're not paranoid. Somebody's out to get you, remember? Several somebodies, maybe, but certainly including that evil doppelgänger back at the clinic. And if the Joanne back at the clinic had her way-somehow I was almost sure she was managing it-she'd have convinced Lewis of her sincerity by now. And, though it turned my stomach to think about it, she might have even fooled David. In which case it wouldn't be her getting her hands dirty, coming after me. She'd have plenty of shock troops available, and all the eyes and ears of the Wardens.

A breath of wind touched me from the west. It blew