by Logan Jacobs
“You seem anxious to leave,” I chuckled.
“As do you,” she said with a smile over the rim of her teacup. “But yes, I’d like to keep moving. I kept expecting a red robe to appear in my room last night.”
“I watched Main Street most of the night,” I confessed. “Do you really think Charles will just let her leave with us?”
“I have a feeling she can be very persuasive,” Sorcha replied. “And no, I don’t mean in any magical way. I just mean she knows her grandfather very well. She’s also very determined. Even if we refused, I suspect she would find another way to head west.”
“I wonder why she’s so determined to leave,” I pondered.
“What about the horses?” Sorcha asked. “We only picked out two.”
“There were a couple of others that looked okay,” I said. “When we head back to the stables, we’ll see if we can get the dealer to give us one of those.”
Some of the other guests started to drift into the dining room by then, so Sorcha and I paid our bill and returned to our rooms. I made sure everything was still packed into my satchels, then headed back downstairs.
The desk clerk, a trim woman with a hint of a moustache, gave me a friendly smile and told me they would still have rooms available if we decided to stay on one more night. I thanked her and told her we would certainly be back if we didn’t conclude our business by the end of the day. I winked and smiled, and she batted her eyelashes at me.
Sorcha arrived in the lobby at that point, so I offered the blonde mage my arm. She slipped her hand beneath my elbow, and we walked out into the gray, damp morning. Clouds had moved in overnight and hung low over the city. The temperature had dropped as well, and there was the taste of rain in the air. The lively town seemed more dour in this landscape, and most of the citizens walked by more quickly and without bothering to greet their neighbors.
It seemed like an ideal situation for avoiding attention to me, but Sorcha spotted a few of the town gossips gathered outside the general store. They looked agitated this morning, much more so than they had been the day before, so Sorcha pulled me across the street and we strolled toward the ladies of the town once more.
“Why, you look like you have important news,” Sorcha noted as she joined the group.
The women looked startled for a moment that this outsider had inserted herself into their midst, but then they frowned, and someone mentioned how helpful she had been the day before, and that was all the reassurances they needed.
“They arrested a mutant last night,” one of the women replied in a dramatic tone. “Right outside of town.”
The rest of the women all nodded in agreement while Sorcha and I exchanged quick looks. It was always possible that Vance had survived the last attack in the wastelands and he had sent another mutant on through, though I couldn’t figure out why he would have done that.
“How terrifying,” Sorcha declared.
“And they found two more yesterday out by the Bennett property,” another woman added. “Fortunately, those two were dead.”
“So many mutants,” Sorcha murmured.
“Indeed,” a third woman sighed. “We’ll have to speak to Medrick about this at his weekly meeting. It’s unacceptable that all these mutants should be roaming around so freely and so close to the town.”
“How did the two mutants die?” I asked, curious to hear what explanation had been offered.
“They think a dark mage killed them,” the first woman whispered in a conspiratorial tone. “And the mutant they found this morning was probably working with him.”
“Why would a mutant work with a dark mage to kill other mutants?” I asked in confusion. “Wouldn’t the mage be hunting this other mutant as well?”
“Who knows how those people think,” the second woman sniffed. “The mage probably promised to turn the mutant back into a human or something in exchange for helping him hunt other mutants.”
The rest of the women nodded in agreement, and a discussion about the perfidious nature of black mages began. There was a little sympathy for the captured mutant, however, and more than one local suggested that the mutant should be executed, though why wasn’t exactly clear.
Sorcha and I broke away from the group and walked quickly down Main Street. I noticed a pair of deputies outside the police station door where they kept a careful eye on the people on the street. The Chief expected trouble, which didn’t bode well for the mutant.
“Could it be someone from the wastelands?” I mused once we were clear of the town and could talk quietly between ourselves.
“I suppose,” Sorcha frowned. “But I can’t imagine how Vance survived Peter’s attack. They were determined to kill someone.”
“Maybe Dani arrived and saved him,” I offered.
“But why come here?” Sorcha asked as she shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe she had something she wanted to tell us,” I replied. “But we won’t know anything until we find out who the mutant is.”
“I guess we’ll have to figure that out after we talk to Charles,” Sorcha stated. “If it is Dani, we’ll have to get her out.”
“But that’s the other thing that doesn’t make sense,” I added. “If it is Dani, or someone else from the wastelands, then where’s Vance? Wouldn’t he come with them, so they could go back after they did whatever they were going to do?”
“Maybe it’s one of Peter’s crew,” Sorcha noted. “But you’re right, they’d still want Vance with them, so they could get back.”
“Maybe Vance is hiding somewhere,” I said as I scanned the edge of the road. “Out near the Bennett place. If he heard the rumors about a black mage, he may be too afraid to appear.”
“Let’s talk to Charles,” Sorcha replied as we turned onto Lewiston Road, “and then we can solve the riddle of the mutant. After that, we’ll buy the horses and leave town.”
It was still early enough that most of the adults that lived along Lewiston Road were still home, as well as the older children. Men in business clothes chatted to each other as they prepared to head into town while women tried to herd the older children toward Main Street. We drew more looks as we walked by this morning, so we picked up our paces and kept our eyes straight ahead.
The sound of Lewiston Road in the morning followed us until we were well out of sight of the residents. We were nearly to the fork in the road before the buzz of human speech was replaced with the calls of morning doves and the sound of a raccoon scrounging for berries. It started to drizzle as well, and the world soon became a damp and chilly mess.
A mist hung over the bog by the time we reached the end of the rutted road, and the old house looked like it was floating in midair. A duck called from somewhere in the reeds and another one responded, but otherwise, the place was quiet.
“Freya?” I called out tentatively.
“Maybe they’re still talking?” Sorcha said when neither Freya nor Charles appeared after several minutes.
“Should we go back to town?” I asked.
“I guess Freya could find us there,” Sorcha sighed. “I just hate to waste a day waiting around.”
“We’ll get the horses, see if we can learn anything about the prisoner, and then leave,” I stated.
Sorcha nodded and we turned around, prepared to follow the brief plan I had laid out.
“You did this!” Charles Darwin shouted as he stepped in front of us. His dark eyes blazed with fury and his skin had flushed red. He also held a rifle in his hands, which he now pointed at the two of us.
Despite the fact that I was on the wrong end of the gun, I wanted nothing more than to reach out and grab it as the itch in my palm started up again.
“Stay back,” Darwin warned when I started to lean forward. “And keep your hands where I can see them.”
“Where’s Freya?” Sorcha asked. “She asked us to come back this morning.”
“Oh, I know she did,” Darwin snapped. “She begged me to work with you
this morning. We argued about it all night.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sorcha replied quietly.
“She went to find you after our argument,” Darwin continued. “And that’s when they arrested her.”
“Arrested…?” I muttered. “Freya’s the mutant they arrested? But… she’s not… is she?”
“Why the hell do you think her parents sent her to me?” Darwin exploded. “Those nosey parkers found out what she was once before and her parents needed to get her away before the mages could arrest her. She was safe here until you two turned up.”
“We didn’t turn her in,” I stated. “We didn’t even know she was a mutant.”
“She wouldn’t have gotten so close to the town if she hadn’t been looking for you two,” Darwin insisted.
“But who turned her in?” Sorcha asked. “Someone must have said something to the mages. Or seen something.”
Darwin shook his head, but I could see him work through the possibilities despite his anger. The gun was still pointed at us, but I saw his finger ease away from the trigger. If only I could touch it, I could get rid of the itch, but I forced my palm open and rubbed it against my leg while we waited for Charles Darwin to reach a decision.
“She doesn’t go into town,” Darwin muttered.
“You let her wander,” Sorcha continued. “At some point, she must have gotten close to the town, maybe talked to some people there. And surely, someone must have realized that you had company. Like the clerk at the store, or maybe someone you trade with.”
“Some people knew my granddaughter was here,” Darwin admitted, “but no one knew she was a mutant.”
“Neither did we,” I said. “We didn’t turn her in.”
“But she was looking for you,” Darwin snapped as his finger moved back to the trigger.
“We’ll help you,” Sorcha offered. “We’ll help get her out of jail.”
“And then what?” Darwin demanded. “Where is she supposed to go next?”
“She can come with us,” I offered. “It’s why she wanted to talk to us.”
“She… wanted to leave?” Darwin stammered.
“She asked us to take her west with us,” Sorcha admitted. “We just thought she was bored with staying around here and so we told her that it would be a dangerous trip and she shouldn’t come.”
“We didn’t realize she was a mutant,” I added.
I could see Darwin struggle with the idea that his granddaughter had sought out a pair of strangers and asked them to help her leave. Neither Sorcha nor I spoke as a myriad of emotions swept across his face, but the anger eventually subsided, and a tired look settled on his features.
“There are stories,” Darwin sighed. “They say there are places out west where mutants can live normal lives. She used to talk about finding those places, but I told her the trip was too dangerous and the stories were probably fake anyway.”
“You’ve been to the west coast,” I said with a nod toward Sorcha.
“I know of a town, further south than where we’re headed,” Sorcha mused. “A healer on the island once told me it was nothing but mutants who lived there. I think I laughed at the time, but she goes there to trade, so maybe it was true.”
“She hates hiding away,” Darwin huffed. “She wants to have friends and to talk with someone her own age. I know that.”
“We’ll help you,” I reiterated. “We can be gone from Motown before anyone even realizes she’s missing.”
“And in return?” Darwin demanded.
“We won’t ask for anything,” I replied. “I would like to see your guns, but we’ll help you even if you say no.”
Darwin weighed my offer for a moment, then slowly lowered the rifle.
“Why would you help her?” he asked.
“Because we know she’s a good person,” I said. “And we know she doesn’t deserve to be tossed into the wastelands.”
Darwin snorted, then shook his head.
“They want to execute her,” he replied.
“For what?” I wasn’t surprised after the conversation we’d had with the ladies of the town that morning.
“Who knows,” Darwin sighed. “The general theory is that she colluded with a black mage. Somehow that involves killing other mutants, and they seem to think that there are more mutants close by, led here by Freya so the mage could kill them as well.”
“But…” I stammered as I tried to make sense of the accusations.
Sorcha and I were responsible for the dead mutants, which Darwin knew, and we were also responsible for the rumor of a black mage, which Darwin did not know. Still, the whole thing had become convoluted, and I suspected the local Chief of Police and Medrick the Mage hoped to put a quick end to it all by blaming Freya, and whoever they could get to play the part of a black mage. Like two out-of-town visitors who showed up around the same time.
“Damn it,” I finally chuffed.
“Is there somewhere we could sit down?” Sorcha asked.
Darwin considered her request for several moments, then finally walked toward the moss encrusted planks that led from the edge of the water to the porch of the crumbling house. Despite their half-eaten appearance, the planks held and Darwin disappeared inside the vine-encrusted cottage. He stepped back onto the porch a moment later with three folding chairs that he quickly set up beneath a rotting window frame. Unhappily, the rifle was no longer in his hands, though the itch told me it was still nearby.
“This is all you get for now,” he declared when he realized Sorcha and I still stood near the end of the trail.
We walked over to the plank bridge, and I tested it with my right foot. The plank bowed slightly, but held, even when I put both feet on it. I started across, though I moved slowly so I wouldn’t slip on the rain dampened moss.
Sorcha waited until I was nearly across before she started along the planks. She tested each step carefully as well, even though she had just seen two larger and heavier men make the trek across without any problems.
“You’ll be fine,” Darwin called out to the blonde mage as she picked her way toward the porch.
“Nothing good ever follows that statement,” Sorcha replied as she took another cautious step forward.
“You expect to make it to the west coast with this one in tow?” Darwin snickered.
“We’ve been through a lot lately,” I replied. “She’s tougher and stronger than you might think.”
Sorcha arrived on the porch with a soft thud and snorted at my statement.
“I’m tired of getting my clothes bloody, or wet, or dirty,” Sorcha declared. “I would like to get through one day, even one morning, without needing to change.”
Darwin shook his head as we sat down in the chairs and turned his gaze toward the small patch of grass that bordered the bog. From this vantage point, you could see the densely wooded parcel of land, the dirt path that wound beneath the branches, and the legion of wildflowers that edged the space between the grass and the trees. On a sunny day, it would be a beautiful sight, but beneath the gray clouds and steady drizzle, the tree trunks had turned dark, and their branches loomed over a desultory scene. Even as we watched, the riotous colors of the flowers were swallowed up by the creeping fog.
“I promised to keep her safe,” Darwin mused. “Just one simple request, and I leapt at the chance. I was so sure I could do this one thing for them.”
“You haven’t let them down yet,” Sorcha said quietly. “We’ll free her and help her move on.”
“You know, my sons have asked so little of me over the years,” Darwin continued. “I know they think I’m just an old fart who can’t let go of the past, but I was certain this was something I could do. I mean, I wasn’t just a state trooper. I was a prepper. I know how to survive. Hell, I built that shelter, and I kept my sons and wife alive while the rest of our town disappeared.”
“Evan mentioned you were in the police,” I remarked when no one spoke for several moments.
“No
t the police,” Darwin sniffed. “State trooper. A lot of time on the highway in the beginning, but I’d worked my way into investigations right around when that damned meteorite hit.”
“But your wife wanted to help?” I prodded. “After the meteorite?”
“Yeah,” Darwin sighed. “She said people would need her. She was a nurse, you know. She and the boys left, went to her parents’ place near Camden. We kept in touch, though, and she’s the one who convinced Evan to come talk to me.”
“So how did Freya end up here?” I asked.
“She’s part of my youngest son’s brood,” Darwin replied. “They didn’t know right away that she was a mutant. Nothing obvious when she was born, you know, so the doctor put it down as a normal birth and they took her home. But she could run and jump before most kids her same age, and she was faster and more coordinated than any of them. The first outward signs didn’t hit until she started puberty. That’s when the ears started to change and the tail grew in.”
“She keeps it well hidden,” Sorcha commented.
“Well, the tail’s pretty easy,” Darwin noted. “Those rabbit tails aren’t much more than a puff of fur.”
“Rabbit,” I said in surprise as I tried to picture the dark haired beauty with the puffy tail and long, floppy ears.
“It’s the ears that are the problem,” Darwin continued. “She keeps her hair long, which helps, and she can style it so they’re hidden.”
“And she keeps the hat on around strangers,” Sorcha added. “Even inside.”
“She’s always very careful,” Darwin replied. “So I don’t know how someone here found out.”
“Maybe they talked to someone in Camden,” Sorcha suggested.
“Damn mages,” Darwin muttered. “They’re nothing more than mutants themselves, and I saw what those bastards could do. Trying to pass themselves off as some sort of saviors when they nearly destroyed what the meteorite hadn’t. Fuck the lot of them.”
“Did someone in Camden turn her in?” I prodded. “Someone who might notify the authorities here?”
“No one ever told me the whole story,” Darwin huffed, “but I’ve been able to piece some of it together. Their local mage was under scrutiny from his bosses at the Magesterium for letting several mutants slip through his fingers, so he needed to prove he could still be counted on. He announced that everyone in the town would have to be checked by a doctor because the Magesterium had warned him about some new disease. That turned out to be a complete lie. Instead, they checked everyone for mutations. Freya wasn’t the only one they found, but my son had enough forewarning that he was able to get her out of the house. It was a long, hard trip getting her here after that.”
