Rescue Mission

by Linda Jordan

  “Great,” said Damon. “I’ll tell Morrigu, there’s hope.”

  Carlos and Martina hadn’t heard him, they were back to reading.

  Damon ate with the others as the sky darkened. The cooks made vegetable stew out of what they harvested from the former villagers’ gardens and what they’d brought along. It tasted spicy and was filling.

  Like the others, Damon finished eating, washed his bowl and spoon in a bin of hot, soapy water, then rinsed it as instructed and left it in another bin to dry. Amazing what the cooks had been able to bring with them.

  He wandered off in the near darkness, bringing his pack and guns with him. Finally, he found Cady’s house and went inside. It was nice to be away from the others. To hear no one chattering away. His head felt full of voices. Everyone was still worried and he couldn’t shake their worries.

  Damon slept, waking periodically to strange shrieking noises of birds and other wild beasts. He had no light with him to investigate and was too tired to care. If something wanted to kill him, he was willing to let it. For tonight.

  Tomorrow, he’d find a light.

  15

  Evangeline

  Evangeline woke, stiff from lying on a lumpy straw mattress which sat on a wooden frame. She’d tossed and turned all night. Woken by bird screeches and a vaguely familiar hissing-coughing noise.

  Once, during the night, she’d gotten up to peer out the door. In the dim moonlight, she’d seen something about a foot high staring at her. It took her a minute to realize the creature was a possum. It ran away when it saw her. She hadn’t known they lived this far north. And it was a big one.

  Evangeline had no idea what time it was, but people were up. She could hear noises from them outside her door. She’d been given one of the small houses. All to herself. What a luxury, where other people were sharing.

  Stretching, she tried to get some of the kinks out of her body. Her shoulders still ached from carrying the heavy pack. She had no salve to put on them. Her few belongings burned in the fire.

  She’d left the window partly open, grateful for the fresh air. She’d always slept with a window open, until she moved up here to Roosevelt’s warehouse. Where her room had no windows to leave open.

  She could smell that the cooks had a fire going already. It looked dim and gray outside. How could people stand this part of the world? Always so cold and gray.

  Evangeline shivered in the coolness of the morning. She dug around in her pack and found a light jacket. She grabbed the clothes she’d gotten from the pile yesterday before leaving the Zoo. Jeans that were too baggy for her, and a bit too long, but there hadn’t been much choice. She could roll them up at least. And a t-shirt that would be the right weight if the day warmed up. It was still summer. Maybe.

  She quickly changed and put on the jacket. She hung yesterday’s clothes on the two old wooden chairs. Maybe they’d air out some. She should wash them today, once she found out how to do that. Maybe someone had some soap and a large tub.

  Evangeline left her door open, hoping the small house would warm up some. She went and stood by the cook’s fire, rubbing her hands.

  “Here dearie,” said one of the older women. She pushed a broken handled mug of steaming coffee into Evangeline’s hands.

  “Thank you.”

  “Enjoy it. This is the last of our coffee. The rest got burned up with the food storage warehouse.”

  “I will savor it then,” said Evangeline.

  The woman nodded and shuffled back to her table. She returned to cutting up apples which then got added to a pot of what looked like oatmeal. It smelled like the porridge Evangeline had had as a child. Warm and cinnamony. It smelled like home.

  Evangeline stood in front of the blazing fire. A tear threatened to run down her cheek. She wiped it away and sipped at the hot coffee, trying to calm herself.

  She hadn’t thought of her childhood home for a very long time. Before they’d had to leave the island. The sea had swallowed up her home and then came Hurricane Tallulah, which wiped out everything.

  Her family had fled to what was left of Florida. That horrible, inhospitable armpit of a place. Biting insects, spiders and snakes everywhere you turned. People were mean and there was no work. That was where Evangeline had learned to fight.

  As her people moved across the south, Evangeline had picked up bits of magic everywhere she went. They went up the panhandle into Georgia, then across Alabama and Mississippi. They followed the shoreline of the ever-hungry sea into Louisiana and finally found a home again in Texas. Their journey began when she was seven and ended eleven years later in a dry dusty small town.

  She learned from priests and priestesses, curanderos and shamans. She discovered that deities and mythological creatures had re-entered the world. She spent a decade learning from Mawu/Lisa. And learning how to defend herself and others.

  She never wanted to be a priestess. She’d chosen to be a magical bodyguard. To use her powers to defend those who could pay her. Those whose wealth could provide a home for her. She spent many years happily employed in Texas.

  Until Roosevelt lured her away with his large amount of cash. And a promise she’d never have to worry about losing her home again. Look where that had led her.

  Evangeline sipped the hot coffee, tasting every bean that had gone into making it. She would indeed savor every last drop.

  She needed to leave. To find her way somewhere else that was safe. And not in the middle of a damn wilderness.

  She’d done her best at her work. Although failing to keep Roosevelt alive, but she was not stupid enough to believe she could defeat bombs dropped from planes. Having helped get these people to safety, there was now no reason left for her to stay. She’d simply decline Morrigu’s offer and move on. To where, she didn’t know.

  Maybe south. To what was left of California. She’d heard it was hard to get in. They limited immigrants. It would be warmer at least. And there was money there. California was wealthy. She could go back to being a sorcerer and a bodyguard.

  She’d need to find better clothes though. No one would believe she was good at what she did looking like this. Maybe she could find work on the way down the coast. At least buy something nicer.

  Because living in the wilderness wasn’t going to work for her. Even with a goddess.

  Evangeline looked around. Morrigu was nowhere in sight. She’d left the fire last night and wandered off into the woods. As if looking for something.

  Several people were still crowded around a table. Using tools on something electrical. At least that’s what it looked like. With their focus, Evangeline didn’t doubt they’d have power going within a week. They looked as if they had been at it all night.

  Two of the cooks were talking about the need for more meat. They were making a list of animals that someone had to find and begin raising. And the crops that would need to be grown.

  Evangeline was impressed. These people were willing to begin at the start of civilization. To learn how to grow food. To generate their own power. Probably to weave their own fabric too. To recreate their lives anew.

  She was too, but not from ancient history. She appreciated running water and instant heat and electronics. Not having a wristband bothered her more than she could say. Not having a purpose. The magic she’d learned was mostly defensive. She was of no use here. Morrigu didn’t need her, not really.

  And even if they did manage to find the resources for Morrigu’s war, Evangeline was of no use there. She wasn’t a warrior. Her magic wasn’t for going on the offensive. Not at the scale of planes and bombs. Her skills were useless. She completely understood Damon’s hesitation. He felt useless in that situation also.

  She hadn’t seen him since early last night. All day he’d been strangely withdrawn. He needed to leave too. Why didn’t he?

  There was so much she didn’t understand about these northerners. They were such a closed, reserved people. Evangeline couldn’t read them. Roosevelt had been different. Open
and outgoing. His emotions on his sleeve. She would miss him. He had been decent and kind.

  She slowly became aware that more people were awake and coming to the fire. It was getting crowded. Evangeline moved away and began to walk one of the well-worn paths, sipping from the mug of coffee as she went.

  There were tall trees all around. Evergreens. She didn’t know what kind they were. Everything around here was alien to her. She’d learned a few of the herbs, but that was about it.

  Off of the path the bases of the trees were cluttered with bushes and dried weeds. Or maybe they weren’t weeds. She didn’t recognize any of them. She passed through a clearing where there was a small mountain of thorny vines. Dark purple berries grew there, although she didn’t know if they were edible.

  Some of the deciduous trees and bushes were beginning to turn, their leaves yellowing. Occasionally, she saw a tree that was brilliant red or orange. When did winter begin up here? She’d arrived at the beginning of spring. The days had grown longer and almost warm.

  Now, the nights were cool and days only less so. Someone had told her that fall, winter and spring just meant nine months of rain. She shuddered at the thought.

  She needed to leave. Tomorrow. She’d put everything in the pack tonight. Grab some extra food. Tell Morrigu she wasn’t needed. Then leave before dawn.

  Evangeline continued following the path. She sipped the coffee, reveling in the intense bitter flavor. Who knew when she’d find some again? Most places weren’t as well stocked as Morrigu and Roosevelt’s kitchens had been.

  The path led down to the water. To the edge of the sea that she could never seem to get away from. The air smelled of salt and fish. At least Morrigu’s people could find food here.

  There. Through the mist, lay a couple of islands. Another shore was visible across the bay. Boats sat out on the water, not moving. People must be fishing.

  Evangeline was startled by a movement on the nearby shore. A woman walked there. No, a deity. Almost shimmering in the grayness of morning.

  As the deity came closer, Evangeline saw that the spirit had black skin and long coily-curly black hair, hanging loose about her hips. Throughout her hair was braided strands of pearls. She wore a loose blue fabric wrapped around her ample hips, leaving her breasts bare. Through the reeds, she walked, her feet bare.

  Evangeline just stood and stared.

  “You have brought me an offering. Thank you,” said the spirit, taking Evangeline’s cup and tasting the coffee. Then she handed it back to Evangeline.

  “Who are you?” asked Evangeline.

  “Do you not recognize me? I am your mother. The mother of all the oceans, the great mother.”

  “Yemaya?” asked Evangeline.

  “Yes, my child.”

  “But why are you here? This far north.”

  “Why are you?”

  “It was a mistake,” said Evangeline.

  “I don’t believe in mistakes. It is part of your path.”

  “How can that be? I don’t belong here.”

  “Always you have sought a home, never had you been willing to take a risk and stay.”

  “My whole life has been a risk. My work has always kept me moving. And Texas wasn’t a home. It was dried out and scorched. I wasn’t happy there.”

  “You will not find happiness by looking in a place, but by looking at the people who surround you. You refuse to risk trusting people,” said Yemaya. “Drink.”

  “Why?”

  “It will help.”

  “Did you put something in my coffee?”

  “Nothing that you don’t need.”

  Evangeline sniffed the coffee. There was only one sip left, she drained the cup. It tasted a bit saltier than before. A surge of energy poured through her.

  “You must find home by bonding with other people. By trusting again. Your family is all gone. Taken by floods or disease or old age. You must create a new family. Stay here. I claim you as one of mine.”

  “I hate this place,” said Evangeline.

  “Learn to love it. It is extraordinarily beautiful. See the way the fog hugs the water. The tide caresses the grasses growing at its edge. Hear the call of the eagle, just before she dives for a salmon. Stay and learn the ways of this land. You have always been shut inside, never understanding the life of the wild and the earth. Not feeling its rhythms. It is time to learn. To change. To grow.”

  Evangeline stood and stared into Yemaya’s eyes. They were a stormy gray-blue. And the irises and pupils had a spiral of light that swirled through them. The longer she stared, the more she began to believe it was right to stay and help these people.

  She was thinking that as she slid to the marshy grass and blacked out.

  16

  Cady

  Cady woke with the sunlight streaming in her window. She’d been having deep dreams again. Something that hadn’t happened since she was a child. Prophetic dreams. It must be all the change of moving.

  She’d seen that woman from the Zoo. The sorcerer who’d caught them in her magical net. But the woman had been old. Surrounded by others to whom she was telling ancient stories. Firelight had flickered on the sorcerer’s face, but Cady hadn’t been able to hear what was being said.

  Cady jumped when Monster thundered in through the cat door, leapt down from his shelf on the wall and jumped up on her bed in two bounds. Yowling and demanding attention.

  “Well, good morning to you too.”

  She petted him. He felt damp from the dew.

  Finally, she got out of bed and went outside to relieve herself. No matter how little liquid she drank at night, her body could just barely make it till morning anymore. This must be what getting old was about.

  She walked back inside, pouring water to wash her hands and face. Then stretched out some of her stiffness. She changed into brown pants that tied in front and a soft shirt that had been dyed green. The clothes had been a gift from Joaquin’s family. They spun the wool from their sheep and alpaca and wove it into the finest fabric. Then made clothes for nearly everyone in the village, in exchange for others’ services.

  She poured clean water into a saucepan and switched on a burner that Mateo had found for her. All the finished houses had been wired to a solar and wind system that Logan had created. His father had made the one back in the old village and Logan had maintained it. Logan had made this system with a few modifications so it would work better. Cady now had lights and electricity.

  Not enough to heat her house this winter, he’d told her, for that there was wood. He would begin expanding the system once everyone was hooked in. Next winter everyone would have enough power to heat with his system.

  Cady was grateful for everything this house had. She’d underestimated the power of friendship.

  Digging around in her packets of dried herbs, Cady found some mint, rose petals and bee balm, pouring a small bit of each into one of her cloth tea bags. There wasn’t much of the mint left, but the roots she’d brought from the old village were beginning to grow strongly. She put the bag into her clear blue mug.

  Out on the lake, a patch of fog drifted by. Cady could see at least three spirits swirling around in it. They looked like air spirits, white and wispy with wings and long flowing white hair.

  She’d seen one up close once. The spirit had looked at her with its ice blue eyes. Cady had been chilled to the bone. Then it shrieked like a haunted wind and was gone.

  The area surrounding the lake, and the lake itself, was overflowing with deities, mythological creatures and spirits of all kinds. Some of the villagers were having a difficult time with that. Nearly everyone was discovering long denied magical powers within themselves.

  Cady had found she had a knack for starting fires. Just breathing on a stack of wood seemed to do it nowadays. That might have been from hanging around a dragon.

  She spent her afternoons chatting with Onyx. He had a wealth of information about ancient times and told her wonderful stories. Of course, he’d missed t
he rise and fall of entire empires, so he wasn’t any good with recent history. The thing that surprised her was that it didn’t sound like humans had changed much in a couple thousand years or more.

  She poured the hot water over the tea and went outside while it steeped. Monster followed her. He did that all the time now, still unsure about this new place or perhaps he just enjoyed her company as much as she did his.

  There were still some huckleberries on the bushes, so she ate several. The village would be short of fruit for a few years, unless they found more still growing around here.

  Several people had brought berry canes and strawberry roots. Others had brought small fruit trees, planting them in the center of the village, for everyone to share. It would take years before they began to bear fruit.

  She might not even be alive that many years in the future. Then again, none of them might. Life was uncertain.

  She returned to the house, removed the tea bag and began to sip her tea. There was a knock at the door.

  “Come in.”

  “Good morning,” said Beth.

  “Well, hello. Would you like a cup of tea?”

  “No, I’ve had plenty already this morning. I’ve been up since the middle of the night.”

  “Couldn’t sleep?” asked Cady, sitting down at the table with her tea.

  Beth sat down in the other chair. Her hair was perfect. Straight and down to her shoulders, light brown in color. Her blue shirt and pants were clean and unwrinkled. The same cut as Cady’s except Beth’s looked better on her. Brown leather shoes, clean and without scuffs. Somehow, she looked tidy and well put together, while Cady always looked like an unmade bed. Which was what her house looked like too. She’d bet that Beth’s house was well organized as Beth was.

  “I slept for a while, but woke after another dream.”