“Much better.”

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you late? The slugs described you as being very exact. They made a point of —”

“About that. I love those guys, but yeah, they’ve got some really weird ideas about me.”

Gabriel shifted uneasily. As strange as talking to the other slugs had been, the giant one was a whole other level of weirdness. But Michael’s tone was both familiar and comfortable. In an odd way, the big slug reminded him a bit of Father Gareth.

“Oh yeah!” Michael exclaimed. “I love that guy.”

“Pardon?”

“Gareth, of course. The guy who you were just thinking about? He did a lot of great work, saved a lot of lives, helped a lot of people. Never gave himself enough credit, though. Crying shame. But yeah, Father Gareth was an amazing man, I’ll tell ya.”

Gabriel shook his head. “So on top of everything else, you’re telepathic?”

“Well, I don’t know if telepathic is the right word. You human beings are just as telepathic as we are, trust me. It’s just that we slugs are more consciously aware of our intuitive connection to all life, and you humans—ah man, how do I say it nicely?—you guys spend an awfully large amount of energy denying what’s right in front of you. No offense.”

Gabriel moved closer to the window. “I don’t understand.”

“Yeah, you do. C’mon, man. Look at any conversation between two people. If you pay attention, you’ll see that there are actually two dialogues going on. You’ve got the verbal conversation, and a layer of unspoken communication right beneath that, a psychic message, if you want to use that kinda terminology. When you follow that second conversation, the true one, that’s when you realize how interesting you humans really are.”

The toilet flushed, and the bathroom door creaked open. Bernard shuffled out into the room. He closed the bathroom door, turned around, and came to an abrupt stop, staring at the window. “Wow. What is that?”

Gabriel started to move to block the window then realized that would only draw attention to what waited on the other side. He desperately hoped Bernard’s vision wasn’t good enough to see the giant slug. Part of him was tempted to see if Bernard could see the thing, so he would have a witness, but that idea was driven back by the death hordes of startled panic.

Bernard shuffled closer to the window. He squinted and poked at the screen. Gabriel held his breath.

“Well, damn,” Bernard said. “Guess you see something new every day.” He shuffled back to his side of the room and plopped down in his armchair. He fell asleep almost immediately, apparently as unconcerned with a giant slug as he would have been with a housefly.

“Goddamn,” Gabriel muttered. “I don’t even know what to say about that.”

“For starters, how about we steer away from all these goddamns?” Michael said. “C’mon, brother. It’s like every other word with you. Goddamn this, goddamn that, goddamn slugs. It gets tiring.”

Lost in thought, Gabriel ignored the suggestion. Bernard had seen the slug. That meant they were real and that he wasn’t completely insane. Relief flooded him like water bursting through a dam. He made a mental note of that fact. If he wanted to keep from spiraling into full-out lunacy, remembering such things might prove to be a necessity.

“So you wanted to talk to me?” Gabriel asked.

“The Sky Amoeba did kinda imply that—”

“I have no interest in this floating Sky Amoeba nonsense. I want to talk about the Black Virus.”

“Good. ’Cause like I was gonna say, that’s why I’m here. In fact, I know exactly where the Black Virus is going and where that little thing you saw crawling across the floor was headed to.”

Gabriel gaped at the slug. “Really?”

“Yeah, man. And even better, I can show you.”

“The other slugs said something about a law of noninterference. They said that you can intervene in times of emergency, that you can… look, just tell me. What is the Black Virus? Can you tell me that?”

“It’s not that easy.” Michael shook his head. “I have my own laws to follow. But I do have the power to show you where it went.”

“And where is that?” Gabriel pulled a microscope slide from his top desk drawer and slipped it into his pocket.

“At the base of the building. Outside. If you want answers, Gabriel, then all you have to do is follow me.” Michael’s antennas spread and gripped the sides of the window screen.

Gabriel stepped back. Michael bent the screen’s plastic sides inward, removed it from the window, and dropped it to the ground. A breeze gently rustled the curtain, and the sounds of traffic from about a quarter of a mile away drifted into the room.

Gabriel grabbed his cane. Other than daily trips to the smoking area and the occasional supervised hospital visit, he hadn’t been outside in years. He couldn’t believe he was about to just step out and follow a ridiculous slug leader.

But he wanted answers, so he would do exactly what the big slug said. He climbed out the window.

Chapter 26:

Adamant

As Gabriel followed Michael’s dark, wriggling form around the outside perimeter of the building, he was tempted to flee. He could run away, leaving Bright New Day behind him forever, and flip the bird to all of his obligations. It was the best chance he’d ever had.

But they would catch him. In a few hours, the nurse would come in with his morning meds and discover the open window. They’d call the police, who would find him and bring him back in restraints. After that, he would be locked up in the Level Five unit.

So instead of fleeing, Gabriel followed the slow-moving giant slug with all the obedience of a teacher’s pet. But he couldn’t help but look behind him and fantasize. He gazed out at the asphalt roads, the signs, the many small businesses down the street, and the elementary school across the road. God, it was so tempting.

Michael stuck near the side of the building, slithering down the grassy hill. Gabriel stumbled a couple of times. He hadn’t realized how much weaker his eyesight had become in the last few years. The shadows were like dark mountains blocking his path. Worse, he hadn’t thought about how challenging a downhill slope would be on his bad leg. Though he’d gritted his teeth through the pain when climbing out the window, the pull of gravity led to heavy steps that made his knee crunch. He tried to put most of his weight on his cane, unsuccessfully. Every few minutes, he had to stop and catch his breath. He felt pathetic.

But each time he stopped, Michael waited patiently. The gentle contours of that inhuman face and those black eyes seemed to convey sympathy.

The slope became steeper. Gabriel’s legs nearly buckled underneath him. He worriedly checked his pulse. It was a bit faster than he would’ve liked.

“You okay?” Michael asked.

“Yes. Yes.”

They wound around the back side of the building. The grass gave way to jagged black rocks coated in just enough water to be horribly slippery. Michael went over the rocks easily enough, but Gabriel struggled. He kept his gaze downward, focusing intensely on his feet. Every step was painful, and if he slipped, it could mean a broken hip that would never heal, then a walker, and later a wheelchair.

“Look up, brother.” Michael said. “You don’t wanna miss this.”

Gabriel raised his head and heard a peaceful sound that he’d given up all hope of ever experiencing again. His gaze landed on the one thing his heart had most yearned for, night and day, for five long years, and tears tugged at the corners of his eyes.

Ocean waves crashed against the rocks, beckoning him as if he were a lost child. The distinctive aroma of fresh saltwater rose into Gabriel’s nostrils. He smiled, and that smile soon became a laugh. One notion overwhelmed his every thought. He wanted to touch it.

Gabriel rested his cane against a speckled boulder and stumbled through the rocks as quickly as he could manage. When he arrived at the water’s edge, he dropped to his knees. The impact hurt, but he didn’t care. The ocean rushed up to meet him, and he closed his eyes, arms outstretched.

As the water surrounded him, he dipped his liver-spotted hands into the ice-cold waves. Eyes still closed, he pictured his old sailboat, remembering the late-night cruises, the wind, the sky, and the horizon. Smiling as he hadn’t smiled in half a decade, he cupped his palms and splashed water onto his face.

He opened his eyes and stared out into the moonlit expanse. The water had chilled him to the bone, but he’d never felt warmer. He stood and looked at Michael, who had slid over next to him.

“You didn’t have to bring me out here,” Gabriel said. “You have the right to intervene. That’s what the other slug told me, and you confirmed it. That means you could’ve just brought me a sample.”

“Yeah.” Michael shifted his body.