Vain hopped into the passenger side of the SUV. The scared red-headed woman from the hospital got in the driver's seat and attempted to put the keys in the ignition with shaking hands.
"Hey," Vain said. "They're gone for now. We're good." She gave a thumbs-up. Her face ached with bruises, and her hands trembled with exhaustion, but she was alive. Alive, and she saved this woman from the Wyatts, and now she had a vehicle. Aces. This whole thing was turning into a real plus.
The red-headed woman took a few breaths and closed her eyes. She didn't say anything for several moments, and Vain used the time to look around the vehicle's interior. Maybe the Wyatts left a clue behind, something to use against them; but aside from stale food wrappers and crumpled newspaper on the floor, there wasn't much.
When the woman opened her eyes, the shaking had stopped.
"Where are we going?"
"West," Vain said without hesitation. That's where Roman was. "Keep going out of Boston and head West."
The car started, and they drove around the back of the parking lot and onto the main road.
"Can you please tell me what's going on? Who were those men? Who are you? Why is this happening? Why were you so crazy at the hospital?" The woman seemed bothered by something, although Vain couldn't fathom what. She was totally, one hundred percent un-kidnapped by Wyatts. She should be grinning from ear to ear.
"Crazy?" replied Vain. "I warned you. I was trying to help."
"For future reference, coming up to someone in an emergency room, grabbing their wrist, and telling them they are about to be kidnapped by duplicate men reads higher on the 'crazy' scale than it does on the 'helpful' scale. Just, you know, an FYI."
Vain chewed on that unhelpful and unwelcome feedback, trying to figure out how to respond. The woman glanced over. "I'm Emma, by the way. Thank you for helping me."
"I'm Vain."
Emma blinked and positioned the rear-view mirror so it showed Vain her reflection. "Is that better?"
Vain shook her head. "My name. My actual name is Vain."
"Are you, like, a street artist?"
Vain sighed. "I'm just me."
"How did you know who those men were? How did you know they were after me?"
"They're not men," replied Vain. "They're things. Their name is Wyatt. Their only job is to find people like you and take them back to a place called the Hotel. It's a place I escaped from."
"How are they all called Wyatt? Why do they look the same?"
"They're from alternate Earths." Vain waved her hand, shooing away the explanation.
"I don't believe you," Emma said. "I'm sorry. I know I'm supposed to humor crazy, but I'm exhausted. Please tell me the truth."
"How about this? You go first. Explain how you threw a person with your mind in a way that doesn't violate a couple dozen natural laws, and once you're done, I'll come up with a better explanation for duplicate psychopaths from various incarnations of Earth."
Vain didn't mean to raise her voice, but she couldn't understand why Emma expected her to have all the answers. Same as everyone else, she was trying her best. Emma, for her part, clutched the steering wheel with her eyes fixed on the road. She opened and closed her mouth a few times. Finally, she took a deep breath.
She started to cry.
It wasn't big, heaving sobs; more like the broken weeping of abject misery. She made gulping noises and squinched her eyes.
Vain was not one to show emotion and was a rock of stability; she couldn't even remember when she'd last cried. Probably never. Watching Emma collapse like that made her insides go twisty, and the air conditioning irritated her tear ducts. Time to give this Emma some tough love and get her out of this unreasonable bout of self-pity. Really yell at her.
"I'm going to help you," she said softly. She wasn't sure how Emma felt about physical contact, so she kept her hands tucked under her legs. "Emma. I promise. They don't get to have you. Not while I'm alive. Not while I have a single drop of blood left in my body. I know you're scared. I know this is all new and overwhelming. I don't know why you're part of my story, but we're in this together. Okay? But for this to work, you have to believe me."
Vain felt a little bad for being so hard on Emma with her brutal, tough-love speech, but Emma took it like a champ. Her tears stopped and after a few final sniffles and nose-wipes, she shook her head and sat up straighter.
"Stop being like Thomas Covenant, is what you're saying," Emma tried to smile at her.
"You mean the Pierce Bronson movie? I thought that was called the Thomas Crown Affair."
"No. The book. The Unbeliever series?"
Vain arched an eyebrow. Apparently, Emma liked to sprinkle obscure references into her everyday conversation. Rude.
"If you're ready to listen, I can tell you what I know."
Emma took a moment to collect herself before nodding. Vain told her, in brief, about The Hotel and about being a Conduit. She left out components that weren't that important, like falling off a building, the Padlock, Trick, or how she was working on a plan to fix everything that also might kill them. Minor details were not important.
The telling only took a couple of minutes, and Emma didn't ask questions. Vain didn't mind the silence and watched the twinkle of cars passing by.
"I killed him," Emma finally said. "I killed another human being."
"Stop," Vain said. "You didn't kill a human, you killed a Wyatt. It's not the same thing. You have nothing to feel guilty about. He would have done worse to you."
Emma glanced at her, apprehension written all over her face. "You're sure these guys aren't the government or something? Is this some secret FBI thing?"
"It's an Arthur thing. He's the guy who runs the place. Now you've shown them you're activated, he'll be more interested than ever in finding you. He doesn't like people running around outside his control."
"I should go to the police."
Vain had expected that, and it was an effort not to roll her eyes. "Emma, I want you to walk me through what would happen if you did that."
"I'd tell them they kidnapped me."
"Okay. Then what?"
"I'd give them descriptions and tell them everything you told me. I'd tell them they will come after me again."
"Great. Let's pretend the police believe your insane story about hotels and duplicate kidnappers and superhuman powers. Then what?"
"Then they'd help me," Emma banged her palm on the steering wheel. "How am I supposed to know? They're the police."
"They're people," replied Vain. "People who have families and normal lives and other cases. They'd take your statement, fill out some paperwork and send you home. The Wyatts will not stop. They'll wait another month and try again. If they didn't succeed that time, they'll wait and try again, and again. Even if the police were around, even if they stopped the Wyatts and sent them to jail, Arthur would send more. There are an infinite number of Wyatts." Vain drilled into Emma, emphasizing each word. "You've killed one of them and somehow you can absorb energy without a connection to a Conduit. Arthur will want to examine you, and Arthur always gets what he wants. If that means throwing an endless stream of Wyatts at you, that's what he'll do."
Emma seemed like she would argue, but instead, she focused on the road and didn't respond. She chewed at her inner lips. They drove in silence, and Vain shut up to give her the time to figure it out.
"Let's say I agree with you," Emma said. "What am I supposed to do? Run? Is my family in danger too? Do you have a plan?"
Vain thought about the fight with the Wyatts; how Emma threw the guy halfway across the planet. Vain could never do that. Shoving people was the extent of her power, and what Emma demonstrated easily surpassed Vain's abilities. Emma was the table spot in her wrestling match, so to speak. But Emma didn't need to know that.
"First, we're going to find my Conduit. He's the guy I pull my power from, his name is Roman. He's great, you'll like him a lot. He's really smart. Like, school smart." Vain chewed her lip. "He doesn't smoke a pipe, but don't let that throw you off. I'm sure he'd be willing to start."
"What?"
"Anyway, we became separated a day or so ago. No biggie. You might say I planned all of this. In fact, you should literally say that. Those exact words. If anyone asks, that is. Not that they will. But if they do, say 'You can't even be mad at Vain for this'. Can you remember that?"
"Seriously, what?"
"Say it wasn't my fault," Vain insisted. She couldn't seem to control her breathing. This conversation was getting away from her.
"Vain, I don't know what you're talking about. But yes, I agree the Wyatts coming after me wasn't your fault."
Not quite what Vain meant, but close enough. Emma was right, though. None of it had been her fault, and was doing the best she could with what she had. She continued.
"I'm not sure where Roman is, but he's somewhere off in that direction." She waved her hand. "We'll find him, and after that, we'll talk about what to do next. While we're on our way, I can teach you about your powers."
Emma shook her head. "None of this makes any sense. I can't go with you, I have a life. Friends, school, my parents."
"What good will it do your friends and family if you forget all about them?"
"What do you mean?" asked Emma.
"As a part of the activation process, Arthur takes your memory. That's why my name is Vain. Well, technically, Vanity, but I don't like that. A guy from the Hotel gave it to me."
"This is unbelievable. It's crazy."
"Yeah, I'm not sure about the process he uses. I think your name would be something like Bookworm, but honestly, I'm guessing. They tend to be slightly more poetic."
"I didn't mean that part."
"Precocity?"
"Stop. Just... stop. I'm so exhausted."
"You're in this now, Emma. I don't know why you can do the things you do. All I know is, you're something Arthur wants, and that's enough for me." She stared straight ahead, into the darkness. It seemed to go on forever, it's presence barely disturbed by the headlights that strained to penetrate through it. That didn't stop the headlights from trying, though. Stupid, stubborn things. Impulsively, Vain made a promise.
"He will not get you."
She left out the part about how they might need to run right at him to stop him.
Minor details.