Wickerman Cove

Part 27: Parting

Penny was far from impressed with the idea of taking the fight to the Church of the Eye. Particularly since a key element of the plan involved her going back to the hotel, instead of joining a late night assault on an armed cult.

She stood for a moment, arms crossed, with an expression of worry that had absolutely none of her usual whimsy. She looked like a woman in her early 30s now: pale and tired in the gas station's halogen lights.

The same strange double-image intruded on Steph's vision. Maybe she had some kind of soul sight: one minute Penny was a worried goth, then the next she was a towering figure with a deer skull for a head. Renard sat, watching attentively – except that his head was a skull too, with four ram's horns that he used to poke Penny for attention.

"Look, I know you're worried—" Steph began.

Take me with you, Penny signed. I don't want the two of you to be alone.

Steph sighed. The fact was, whatever Penny had done in the assembly hall, it obviously had limitations: she hadn't done anything when the Church of the Eye had cornered them, or even when the molluscs attacked. Not until Steph had accidentally phased through the door.

"This isn't going to be a place for non-combatants. I'm pretty sure that whatever you did at the Homeowners' Association isn't going to happen again, is it?" Steph asked.

Unwillingly, Penny nodded. It would melt your flesh. That doesn't mean I shouldn't come. There are other things I can do.

Steph leaned closer to Penny. It was likely Mansfield didn't understand sign language, and even if she did, it was unlikely she'd been trained in BSL. On the other hand, it wasn't as if ASL and BSL were alien to each other, and it wouldn't be crazy for a sheriff to have some kind of experience.

She signed quickly, keeping her body between her hands and Mansfield's line of sight.

Look, you need to open the box, Steph signed. We don't know what's in it, but that's the mission. I shouldn't even really be doing this.

Penny pursed her lips, arms still folded. She gave Steph a look that merged admiration and exasperation in ways that reminded her of her grandfather.

A tiny internal voice was starting to question the whole plan. Thinking of consequences wasn't normally Penny's role in their dynamic. She was the carefree one. It started to occur to Steph that when the 'whimsical' member of your team started worrying, maybe it was time to reign things in.

If you shouldn't be doing it, she signed, then don't do it. Stay with me, we'll open the box and go from there.

"Sergeant? Are you good to go?" Mansfield called. "I know you ladies need to make plans, but this is murder. One way or another, David Gabriel is going to spend the night in custody. If the good doctor doesn't want to drive back on her own, we've got a deputy who should be here in a couple of minutes."

Steph winced. She turned back to Penny. "And that's why I've got to go," she said. "We were okay, but look at the poor gas station guy. What happens the next time this 'David' decides he doesn't like someone?"

I can't stop you, Penny signed, gesturing Renard to her heel. There's something you should have.

"Wha—" Steph began.

Penny opened the back of the hearse and lifted the panelling in the back. It contained a cargo space – probably from the days when it had been a real hearse. There was a burst of psychic static that gave Steph an icepick pain between the eyes. When it cleared, Penny had a square, heavy-duty case. It reeked of the same energy that Steph had felt in her dream.