Chapter 11: Premonitions and Cell Phones

"I don't like this."

"Like what?"

"Being here. So close to the cops."

"We are in no danger."

Ada squirmed anxiously in the front passenger's seat of the Lincoln sedan while Tombspawn calmly sat in the driver's seat. It was late in the evening, and the car was parked outside the Virginia State Police Station in Alexandria. Police cars drove in and out constantly, and she drummed her fingers restlessly on her thigh, nervously waiting for any police officer to become suspicious enough to investigate them.

It's not that they were doing anything illegal at the moment, but she was sitting in a car with two dead bodies. Granted, they were sitting up and moving, and didn't look dead at first glance, but that didn't do much to alleviate her concerns.

Tombspawn sat confidently, toying with a cell phone. "Remarkable devices," he said to himself. "It is astounding what one can do with technology these days." He cocked his head as he studied the cell phone. "Telephone. Contact list. Calendar. Diary. Camera. Photo album. Music player. Email. Web browser. Everything one would need."

Ada rolled her eyes. "How can you just sit there and not get nervous?"

"What is there to be nervous about?"

She gawked at him. "We murdered two policemen, and instead of hiding the bodies, you sent them into police headquarters. I still don't understand what it is you think you're getting."

Tombspawn closed the cell phone. "The most valuable commodity of all; Information."

Ada rolled her eyes and glanced into the back seat to check once again if Muscle was still sitting there. The monster tended to sit so quietly she would forget it was there. She saw him leering at her, staring with an unsubdued hunger. A small stream of drool dripped from its mouth.

"Ugh," she winced and turned her attention to the police station. "How long is this going to take?"

"He will render to each one according to his works: to those who by patience in well-doing seek for glory and honor and immortality, he will give eternal life," Tombspawn recited. "Romans, chapter two, verses six and seven." He glanced back at the police station as well, and spotted two uniformed officers approaching them. "Not long after all," he said.

"I really wish you would quit it with the fucking Bible quotes."

"The Good Book holds great wisdom for those who seek it. Perhaps you would do well to meditate on Leviticus, chapter seventeen, verse eleven. 'For the life of the flesh is in the blood ... for it is the blood that makes atonement for the soul.'"

"Whatever." Adamantine saw them approaching as well, and let out a breath of relief. "About fucking time."

As the two uniformed police officers converged on the town car, Tombspawn pressed the button to lower the driver's window. "Did you have any difficulties?" he asked the two.

"No," expressed one of the zombie policemen.

"Did they get it?" Adamantine asked eagerly.

Tombspawn held up his hand, and one of the zombies passed to him a yellow envelope. He took the envelope, looked inside it, and smiled. Tombspawn's smile always creeped Ada out, and she glanced back at Muscle just to see something less disturbing. Muscle was still staring at her, now with two streams of drool hanging from his thin lips. She grimaced and turned back to Tombspawn.

"You did well, my children," Tombspawn remarked. "Now your instructions are as follows. You will take your squad car out and drive south. Continue to drive south on the highway. Draw no attention to yourselves. When you run out of fuel, exit the car, head off the road, find a discreet location, and use your service revolvers on each other. Shoot each other in the head." He paused for a moment. "And then you may die. Understand?"

The two nodded. "Go," he commanded. The two shuffled off.

Ada watched the two undead policemen as they returned to their car. "Can we get out of here now?"

Tombspawn started the car, and pulled onto the road. Ada picked up the envelope and looked inside it. "Okay. What did we just risk getting caught for?" she asked. She frowned, and reached inside, pulling out a small clear plastic evidence bag containing a small dark object. "What the hell is this?" She turned the bag over in her hand, examining the object. It was filthy, crusty, but eventually recognizable.

She glared at him. "Another cell phone?" she asked incredulously. "Don't you have enough by now? You get one every time you kill someone."

"Not just any cell phone," he replied. "Patricia Sanchez's cell phone."

Her eyes opened wide in amazement, and she stared at the plastic enclosed phone. "Tricia Sanchez's cell phone? What the hell was it doing in the police station?"

"She abandoned it during the fight against Desdemona, and it was picked up by the police. No doubt she has a new phone by now, so she has parted with this one."

Ada smiled as she examined the phone. "Well, this should be helpful. Family names, friends, contact numbers ... maybe even upcoming doctor appointments. Should be able to set a trap for her easily with the information in here."

Tombspawn frowned as he drove. "Hmm. I did not even consider that," he said.

She frowned and squinted at him. "Huh?" Tombspawn glanced at her. "Eyes on the road, dead man! And what do you mean, didn't even consider it?"

He returned his gaze to the road. "I did not consider that the cell phone had valuable information within it."

"Well then ... WHY did you go to all this trouble to steal it?" she asked in exasperation.

"I am not interested in what is in the phone, but what is on the phone."

She examined the filthy encrusted phone again. "And what is it that's ON the phone, as opposed to IN it that is so valuable?"

Tombspawn gave his evil creepy grin again. "Leviticus, chapter seventeen, verse eleven," he reminded her.

She squinted and examined the dark crusts on the phone. "Blood?"

He nodded. "Joseph Harper's blood."

They drove on into the night.

vramm "Arf-arf-arf-arf-arf!"

Annie was just starting to get ready for bed when she heard the familiar tell-tale sound of Quantum Knight arriving on the outside balcony, followed by Scrappy's frantic welcoming barking. She frowned, glanced at the clock, and wondered. "What happened? Did she just bring Joey back?"

As she eagerly rolled out into the living room, her jaw dropped open in astonishment when she saw that the superhero was bringing someone back, but it wasn't Joey. It was Tricia, who was currently decked out in the skimpiest, sexiest, most revealing superhero costume she had ever seen, and who was apparently drunk enough to not be able to stand up on her own.

"Oh. No!" she yelled.

Tricia stumbled inside, propped up by Quantum Knight. "Please Annie..." she mumbled.

"Oh No-no-no-no-no!" Annie shouted. "Bei meer iz doos nish' ka' laikahk! What have you been up to?" She rolled forward angrily. "Did you go out like THAT? Who are you supposed to be? Cleavage Queen?"

Tricia swooned and Quantum Knight supported her. "Save it, Annie," the superhero said. "She's had a rough night." She walked her inside. "Come on, Trish. Inside. Let's sit down." Tricia moaned and sluggishly tripped inside as she leaned on her friend. The dog jumped about their ankles, eagerly sniffing, welcoming the two home, and ran off to find something to chew on.

Annie dropped her attitude. "What's the matter with her? Is she drunk?"

Quantum Knight shook her head. "No. I think she's in debt. She burned a lot of time tonight, and I think it's just now hitting her. This happen before?"

"Not to this extent," Annie answered. "Trish, do you..."

"Yes, please," Tricia pre-answered, dropping onto the couch. Her face was pale, drenched in sweat, and her eyes were glazed.

Annie blinked. "Oy vey." She took a deep breath and completed the question. "Trish, do you need a bucket?" She nodded to Quantum Knight, and pointed to the kitchen. "Could you get her one?"

"Ew!" Quantum Knight pulled back her mask and ran to the kitchen. A moment later she returned with a large plastic mixing bowl. "Will this do?"

"Perfect," Annie said, taking the bowl and putting it in Tricia's lap. "Can you make her a cold compress?"

As Sandy ran back to the kitchen, Tricia sunk forward, dropped her head into the mixing bowl, and groaned. "It's okay," Annie consoled her, petting her head and holding back her hair. "You're home now. Feel free to heave your guts."

Tricia moaned into the bowl. "Ohhh ... I'm sorry Annie."

"You can apologize later. Time now to return to sender. Let's see some brekhekhts."

"I don't deserve you," she whined into the bowl, her voice sounding hollow in the plastic echo.

"Damn straight. Now let's see what your gall bladder is up to."

Sandy returned with a wet washcloth and handed it to Tricia. "Thanks," she moaned, and wiped her face.

"Are you going to throw up?" Annie asked.

Tricia sunk her head back down into the bowl and held it there for a good ten seconds before emitting a pitiful "No," but she didn't relinquish the bowl.

Annie sat back, sighed, and raised an eyebrow at Quantum Knight. "So? What happened?"

Sandy pulled off her gloves. "Well, from what I got, she had a date that went bad, followed by a temper-tantrum infused exhibition binge at a nightclub. I'd ask about where she got the costume from, but I think I've got something like this at home. Matilda give her this?" Annie nodded. Sandy chuckled. "Thought so. Mine's white. Well, used to be."

Tricia groaned, sat up, and flopped to the back of the couch with her eyes closed. She wiped the wet cloth over her face and neck, and then down her chest, attracting Sandy's and Annie's attentions to her breasts.

"So, Ample Lass," Annie began. "How were the Legion tryouts? Did you at least get a complimentary flight ring?"

"I've been a bitch," Tricia confessed to the ceiling.

"Yes, you have! So good of you to mention it! And also an idiot! Why are you wearing that awful thing? Kenst zakh kholileh farkeeln."

"What?" Sandy asked.

"I'm not catching a cold, Annie."

"You're cold. I can see them from here." Annie turned to Sandy. "So, what brought on this sudden burst of self-evaluation?"

"Fighting a super hero and losing," Sandy answered. "Look, sorry to dump this on you Annie, but you've got another teenager to deal with. Trish is going through Cosmic power puberty. Symptoms include selfishness, rash judgements, and general asshole-ishness, and should continue for the next couple of months." She reached out and gently caressed Tricia's face. "But at least we know about it now, so we can deal with it, right?"

Tricia opened her eyes. They were still glassy, and she blinked a couple of times at Sandy. "Sandy?"

"Yes."

"I think I'm going to throw up now."

"Head down, girl." Sandy pushed Tricia's head into the bowl. "And keep it there. I don't want you spewing on me. My costume is specifically designed to attract stains." She turned to Annie. "Maybe we should take her to the bathroom?"

"I think so. Trish? Can you make it?"

"Uhhhh..."

Sandy knelt down and took one arm over her shoulder. "Come on, girl! Up!" She lifted Tricia, and the two stumbled into the bathroom. After Sandy got Tricia in front of the toilet, she found a scrunchie and fixed her hair back. Tricia just held her head over the toilet bowl and moaned, while Sandy came out.

"So, what now?" Sandy asked Annie. "I guess I should go get her car. Should I bring Joey back too?"

They both flinched as they heard a sudden retching noise coming from the bathroom. Annie winced.

"Um ... I suppose I could use his help, but if you could just help me get her to bed ... I just don't want him seeing her like this."

Sandy nodded, and Tricia retched again. "Let me get her some water," she said, and headed towards the kitchen.

Annie watched her. "So um..." she called out. "Did she really fight you?"

"Yep!" Sandy called out from the kitchen. "Even got a few good shots in. Got me caught in my own cuffs. Had to pull out all of the tricks to stop her." She emerged with a glass of water. "Once she gets used to the powers and gets a little training, she'll be incredible."

Annie pondered the thought of Tricia being a powerful superhero as she heard her roommate hacking and spitting into the toilet. "Wish I could have seen it."

Sandy stopped and sighed. "Don't worry. You will. It's probably on YouTube already. We were in a nightclub. Lots of cameras."

"Oy. Not good." Annie pinched the bridge of her nose. "If Betty sees this..."

"Yeah. My thoughts too. Let's just hope she doesn't see it."

It was late in the evening when Sophia slipped back into the dreamscape.

She stood on the edge of awareness, wrapped in an azure taffeta caftan which drifted off her schema into the flowing mists of the collective unconsciousness. Star-filled clouds sparkled and permeated her awareness, with each shining star a portal, an entrance into the personal. Dreams leaked from the portals into the mists, filling the dreamscape with colors, odors, music, vocalizations, concepts, and emotions. Two bright stars shined ahead of her, holding her interest.

"Odd. There are usually three," she observed. "Someone is up."

She leaped towards the twin stars and glided through the mists, her arms outstretched and robes extending behind her, dragging and flowing the fabric from waves into great wings. She soared and approached. One light, calm and blue, oozed with the peacefulness of contented fulfillment, while the other flashed and burned brightly with an inner turmoil.

"Oh Joey. The nightmares again? Poor dear."

With a gentle flap of her wings, she slowed before the brightly flickering star. It surged with fear and pain, screams and lamenting. Sophia steadied herself, drew courage from her depths and gingerly reached out to touch the star.

"This is Joey, isn't it?"

The star surged, enveloping her arm in a snaking tendril, grasping her against her will, and pulled. Sophia screamed. Never before had a dreaming mind pulled her inside, but the sheer force overwhelmed her minute resources. She fought and pulled back, but it was useless. It was as if she were fighting a thousand minds all focused on a single task. The star consumed her entirely.

What she found inside horrified her.

The dreams were in a maelstrom. What was normally a simple setting of shifting perspectives was replaced with the interior of a psychic hurricane. Tornadoes and currents of thoughts tore into her, flinging her, spinning her into the storm. Bubbles of individual perspectives swarmed and bounced off each other violently. Lightning flared and thundered, and Sophia screamed and tumbled in the howling gale. Words echoed and swarmed around her.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT! ARE YOU INSANE?" "ANNIE! WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?" "JOEY! HE'S DEAD!"

Unable to get her bearings, she latched onto the nearest image and held on. Her hands passed inside the bubble which pulled her inside, and she landed on the hard concrete flooring of an observation room. Sophia looked up to gather her bearings. Armed security guards surrounded Tricia as they all watched a series of close-circuit televisions. They did not appear to be concerned with her. Joey was on the screen, standing before a man in an orange jumpsuit, bars and glass separating them. Tricia watched in terror, clasping her hands tightly around her crucifix. "Please Joey ... Get out of there," she prayed.

"So what's the answer?" Joey asked the prisoner.

"You can watch," she said, turning in the shower. "Just don't touch me." The water poured over her face and she turned her wet face to the camera. "Why don't you touch yourself? I don't mind."

The darkness shattered as the image burst, leaving Sophia blowing in the maelstrom again. "I'm in Tricia!" she shouted. "But what the hell is this?"

Sophia pushed herself against the mental winds, throwing her psyche into the swarm of images. A bubble collided with her, and she tumbled onto the soft carpet of a luxury apartment. A woman screamed in agony in the other room, and Tricia stood on the balcony.

"I'M COMING IN!" Tricia shouted, and she punched the glass door with her bare fist. The glass shattered and exploded inward. Sophia instinctively ducked and covered her head, protecting herself from the flying glass. "AND I AM NOT LETTING YOU STOP ME!" she roared as she stomped into the apartment.

"What the hell is wrong with this girl?" Sophia wondered. "These nightmares feel so strange. Almost like memories. She's not seeing me. It's as if she's not dreaming these."

"Is that a Metro train?"

The dream train barreled into her, and Sophia bounced and tumbled. Her robes caught on the sharp edges of the doors, and she found herself being dragged at unimaginable speeds through the storm. The power and velocity of the train overwhelmed her, and Sophia closed her eyes and screamed.

"RENÉE! HELP!"

The doors shifted, and Sophia felt strong hands take her by the arm. "Help me!" she cried, and the hands pulled her inside. More hands took her arms, her shoulders, and waist, and Sophia found herself withdrawn into the relative calm interior of the Metro train.