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I sniff-tested yesterday's shirt, then pulled it on. "Is Jeremy okay with that? Using his father's room?"
"I think he wants us to." He finger-combed his curls and gave the job a cursory mirror check. "Room's been closed for twenty years. Time to make use of it. Open it up, clear out Malcolm's shit, air out the..." He shrugged.
"Air out the ghosts?"
A light rap at the door. Clay opened it.
"Good morning, I see you're--" Jeremy snatched the coffee from my hand. "That water hasn't been boiled, has it?"
"Boiled?"
"There's a problem with the drinking water. Likely the municipal supply." He held out a newspaper. "Remember those nurses last night? Talking about an influx of stomach complaints?"
I glanced down at the headline. My gut went cold. "Contaminated city water? That can't be. After Walkerton, Toronto's water supply is locked down tight."
I'd done a series of articles on Walkerton, an Ontario town with a mismanaged water supply a few years ago. Seven people had died, and there'd been ongoing health problems. Since then, water safety had been a hot-button issue in the province.
"When they investigate, they'll find it's bottled water," I said. "Lot more Torontonians drink that anyway."
"Perhaps," Jeremy said. "But in the meantime--"
"We avoid all drinking water, tap or bottled. Got it. No big deal. We're leaving this morning anyway."
"Soon, but not just yet," Jeremy said. "That woman who disappeared in Cabbagetown is still missing."
"So?" Clay said. "Maybe she was disoriented after she came back, and wandered off. Or maybe she never went through the portal at all."
"True, but a second resident has gone missing, in the same area. A man in his thirties, apparently out for a jog, which rules out dementia-induced wandering."
"He disappeared this morning? After we supposedly closed the portal?"
"Still, it--" Clay began.
"Doesn't mean he fell into the portal," Jeremy cut in. "Or that it isn't closed. True. But unless we coincidentally have a serial killer preying on residents in the same area where we opened that portal, I'd say it's safer to assume we missed one."
"A zombie, you mean," I said.
He nodded. "I know you both want to go home, and now that we know Elena is a target, that might be wise. I can stay behind and scout today, and have Antonio here by nightfall to help me with the hunt."
Clay flung his half-eaten apple onto the tray. It bounced off. We watched it roll across the floor.
"You stay," I said to Clay. "If we call Nick now, he can probably make it to Stonehaven before I do."
Clay scooped up the apple and put it back on the tray, his jaw set.
"Or I can stay," I began.
"No."
"I don't see why not. Maybe I have some mark because my blood opened the portal, but does that really make me a target? What would they want with me? Probably just to tell them where to find the letter, right?"
Jeremy nodded. "That's Robert's theory. I called him this morning. He believes the zombies need the letter back--or think they do--and because your blood opened the portal, presumably you'd have the letter. As for this 'mark,' he's surprised they were able to track you all the way to New York State with it, but obviously they did."
"What about ditching the letter?" Clay said. "Send it back to Xavier. Make it his problem."
"Make the portal Xavier's problem?" I said. "I'm sure he'll rush right over to fix it."
Jeremy shook his head. "We caused the problem, we'll fix it. Even if the letter's gone, Elena would know where to find it, so they'd still come after her. And we don't want to get rid of something we may need to close this thing."
