Moving With The Sun

by Nicki Huntsman Smith

  Harold said, “That may be the largest human being I’ve ever seen in person. Evolutionarily speaking, he’s quite an anomaly. Imagine how he would have stood out in a crowd ten thousand years ago when the average male was barely over a meter and a half. This fellow must be two meters, thirteen. That’s about seven feet to you Americans. Fascinating!”

  A small group of people encircled the man, who lay unconscious on the plush carpet of the Jupiter Hills clubhouse. Tung stood with his arms crossed, looking displeased. Kenny also had his arms crossed, but he wore an expression of utter confusion. Harold, Tung’s British charge, was as charming as Amelia suspected he would be.

  Jessie hadn’t left her side since their arrival fifteen minutes earlier. Amelia hadn’t realized how much she had missed the child. In her former line of work as a mentor, observer, and occasional recruiter for the Cthor, she tried not to get too emotionally attached to people. That rarely worked out.

  “How do you know he’s the one Fergus told you about?” Tung said.

  “His size, obviously. Also when I asked if his name was Lester, he displayed surprise.”

  “But he didn’t affirm that was his name?”

  “He didn’t have to. I could tell by his reaction that it was. We can use his help getting inside the building where Fergus is being held.”

  “You aren’t even certain Fergus is still alive.”

  “True, but you know we can confirm that before we go.”

  She watched the almond-shaped eyes dart toward Kenny, then focus on the ceiling in exasperation. She was pushing the limits of his patience and taking advantage of his fondness for her.

  She decided to take a final leap of faith – her third of the day.

  “This one,” she gestured to Kenny, “is one of those that I told you about yesterday. I think it will be fine to talk in front of him.”

  “Have you conducted the tests? If not, it is reckless for you to be discussing such things.”

  “I told you, I haven’t had time, but I would bet my life, even shortened as it is, that he is a candidate.”

  “What the hell is going on here,” Kenny said, using his own voice for once. “It’s one thing to be talking shit that I don’t understand, but it’s another to be talking shit about me that I don’t understand. Amelia, what gives?”

  “Tung, there’s nothing more the Cthor can do to me. I have nothing to lose.”

  “Have you forgotten about that recent request you made regarding a weather event? I’m still considering proposing it to them.”

  “Tung, please.”

  “You’ve become a loose cannon. You know how much you mean to me, but I can’t condone this complete disregard for our rules.”

  “It’s Fergus.” She heard the plaintive tone, and she didn’t care. She would beg on her knees if it would help.

  She watched an array of emotions flit across her friend’s normally inscrutable face. She could almost read his thoughts as he considered all the data alongside potential outcomes of any number of decisions. Finally, his focus shifted away from her to the floor where the large man lay dying. Tung’s eyes opened wide in alarm when he saw that Jessie was kneeling beside him, her small hands placed on his chest.

  “Jessie, what are you doing?”

  “Shhh. I need to concentrate. The poison is spreading fast.”

  “I didn’t give you permission to do this.”

  “I know. But this is really important.”

  “You mean it’s important to Amelia.”

  “It’s important to Fergus too. And he’s still a citizen of Cthor-Vangt, so helping him in a roundabout way shouldn’t be against the rules. Now please be quiet so I can do this.”

  Amelia bit off a sudden manic outburst of laughter, but her friend’s scythen picked up on the emotion.

  “Yes, it’s hilarious, isn’t it? The child has adorably usurped my authority. I don’t know why I’m even needed any longer.”

  “I’m your witness,” Harold said with an affectionate pat to Tung’s back. “There was no stopping her. I assume that’s how she was with me as well.”

  “Yes. Even more so.”

  “Where did Kenny go?” Amelia noticed the boy had disappeared again, practically under their noses and into thin air.

  “I don’t know,” Harold said. “He was standing here next to me just a minute ago.”

  Tung arched an eyebrow. “What is this?”

  “It’s one of his talents,” Amelia improvised. “He did it earlier too...just vanished. Of course it’s not true invisibility, but he has a gift for making himself disappear into the background. He’s done it for years as a way of staying under the radar. I have only just discovered the talent. Do you remember how Dani and Sam were able to move about like ghosts? We’ll add it to his list of qualifications in addition to an intellect that I daresay exceeds yours and mine.”

  “Before he can be a candidate, he has to be located. Harold, you’re not going anywhere. Amelia, you may go search, and if you find him, bring him back here. We’ll conduct a fast-track analysis. If he passes, then we will contact Fergus to make sure he’s still alive before we launch this rescue mission.”

  The exasperation was gone, replaced now with Tung’s normal low-key, competent manner.

  She was out the door the next moment.

  “Kenny,” she called, stepping into the early morning drizzle. She wondered how long these rain bands would continue and then intensify before the hurricane arrived. Why did everything always have to happen at once? She thought about how nice that nap would have been before facing a day that would demand all her physical and mental strength.

  “Girl, you got some ‘splaining to do.”

  “There you are. You did your disappearing trick again. Someday you’ll have to show me how you do that.”

  “I could show you, but then I’d have to kill you. Now what the hell is going on in there? Who are those people and what is Kuthorvant?”

  “Cthor-Vangt. It’s a place. Kenny, you’re going to have to trust me. Do you think you can do that?”

  “I’m not an inherently trusting person,” he said, sounding twenty years older, “but I do trust you for some reason. I get a good vibe from you.”

  “That does not surprise me. Okay, here’s what I need you to do...”

  ***

  “What’s happening?” The giant said from the floor.

  “Hi, Lester. I’m Jessie. That’s Amelia, Kenny, Tung, and Harold.” Jessie removed her hands from the big man’s chest. She wore a tired smile.

  “Where’s Spaz?” the man asked.

  Amelia replied, “She did not survive the poison dart. Your bulk was partly what saved you.”

  The huge man struggled to sit up. “Where am I?”

  “You’re in the northern sector of Tequesta and in no imminent danger. We need your help to gain access to the Terminators’ headquarters.”

  “Why would I help you? You poisoned my partner and almost killed me.”

  Amelia squatted so she could look the man directly in the eyes.

  “Fergus spoke highly of you, so I know you must be an honorable person. I know that he tried to escape and you caught him trying to leave. I know that your leader is a psychopath, and I suspect she is holding him prisoner. We need your help to free him.”

  “Again, why should I help you? For that matter, why shouldn’t I just kill you?” With surprising speed, he encircled Amelia’s throat with fingers that felt like iron bands.

  She smiled. “Hear us out before you throttle me.”

  ***

  Amelia: Fergus, are you there?

  SILENCE.

  Amelia: Fergus, are you there? Please answer.

  Fergus: Hello, my darling. I’m here.

  Amelia: Oh, thank goodness. Are you in distress? Are you injured?

  Fergus: No, no. I’m fine. I’m just doing some light reading.

  Amelia: Cut the crap. I know you tried to escape the Terminators in the kayak and Lester captu
red you and took you back to their headquarters.

  Fergus: There’s no point in denying it then.

  Amelia: What is your situation?

  Fergus: I’m being held in a miniscule room. There is food and water, so I’m not in distress, but I’m terribly bored and more than a little horny.

  Amelia: We’re coming to get you. Your friend Lester is with us.

  Fergus: He is? Is Annabelle there too?

  Amelia: No. A woman named Spaz was with him. She was a casualty of war. Is Annabelle the tiny would-be sniper?

  Fergus: Yes. Lester is supposed to be taking care of her. Amelia, I don’t need to be rescued. I’m fine. I’m being punished, not tortured. Aubrey the psychopath has taken a liking to me. I just need to take my medicine like a good boy.

  Amelia: That’s what Lester said you would say. He knows a lot more about what’s going on inside that Costco building than you do. We’ll get Annabelle too, then.

  Fergus: I hope you’re bringing the cavalry. They’re well-armed.

  Amelia: We don’t need the cavalry. We have Tung’s weapon.

  Fergus: Impressive! I can’t believe you talked him into this.

  Amelia: I’ve had help from Jessie in managing Tung. I’m sure I’ll pay for that later in some unpleasant way. Lester will be coming too. He’s with us now.

  Fergus: By ‘with’ do you mean he knows about us?

  Amelia: Yes, as does Kenny.

  Fergus: My darling, determined Amelia. I imagine Tung is not a happy camper at the moment.

  Amelia: That is the understatement of the millennia.

  Fergus: What is your ETA?

  Amelia: I can’t say for sure. Just be ready for us.

  Fergus: I shall. Be careful, my dear. Stay alive. No matter what occurs, I will find you.

  Amelia: That’s from a movie, isn’t it?

  Fergus: Of course. The Last of the Mohicans. Madeleine Stowe...now there’s a beautiful woman. And I have to admit, Daniel Day-Lewis is a fine-looking man.

  Amelia: Goodbye, Fergus. I’ll see you soon.

  Chapter 39 – Ingrid

  “This is it. You realize that, right?” Ingrid said to Rosemary. She stood in a puddle of rainwater in Rosemary’s kitchen, her clothes soaked through. She had barged in through the front door, which wasn’t locked – how careless of the Colony’s leader, considering there was a murderer on the loose – to talk about last night’s dream.

  “You mean the rain? Yes, it very well could be the first bands of a hurricane.”

  Rosemary looked exhausted. Deep vertical wrinkles were etched between the well-shaped eyebrows. Stress will age you. That was the price Rosemary was paying now for shouldering all the problems of their fledgling society. Ingrid felt no sympathy for her; this is what the woman had wanted, and she was getting it by the bucketful.

  “Of course I mean the rain. I’ve lived here for decades. This type of precipitation is what precedes a hurricane.”

  “I’ve lived in Florida for a long time as well. I know about tropical weather.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “About the evacuation? Nothing at the moment. It’s too early anyway. And besides, maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.”

  Ingrid’s eyes narrowed. “I had another dream. I guarantee it will be as bad as I think.”

  “Would you like a towel?”

  Ingrid took a deep breath. It would serve no purpose to alienate this woman whose help she needed to save the lives of the Colonists.

  “Yes, please. I don’t suppose you have any coffee?”

  “I do. Room temperature, though. I made it yesterday in the Love Shack.”

  “That will do. A bit of sugar as well, please.”

  “Of course. It’s your sugar, after all.”

  “Indeed.” She sat in one of Rosemary’s kitchen chairs. “I know people don’t want to leave. Even before the plague when we had access to Doppler radar and could see these monsters out in the Atlantic, people didn’t want to leave. I was one of them. My house was constructed with reinforced concrete. It can handle the winds, but not even a fortress can withstand the storm surge.”

  Rosemary sat down across the table from her. “Is that what you saw? Flooding?”

  “A frothing, relentless tide consuming everything after the winds have demolished most of the trees and structures. Do you remember the pictures of Puerto Rico after Hurricane Maria?”

  Rosemary nodded. The etched lines deepened.

  “This will be worse. There will be nothing left but floating debris and floating bodies. I’ve seen it.”

  “I know you believe this prophetic dream of yours will come to pass. I’m not so sure, though.”

  “Damn it, don’t start that with me. I’ve told you before the dreams are accurate.”

  Rosemary leaned forward, sudden and fierce. “Every single time? Have you never had one that didn’t come true? Be truthful. I’ll know if you’re not.”

  Dark brown eyes bored into her. She resisted the urge to look away from their intensity.

  “There have been some that didn’t...fewer than five, I would say. In more than forty years, fewer than five.”

  “Well, there you have it.” The Colony leader slumped back in her chair as the ferocity from seconds ago drained away. “The logistics of evacuating over fifty people in terrible weather while adversaries are ready to swoop in during our absence, or worse, attack us as we’re fleeing...it’s a freaking nightmare. I’ve done the math. Our odds are better staying in place and weathering the storm. By my calculations, we’ll lose fewer lives in that scenario than in any other.”

  A jolt of panic ran through Ingrid’s body. “You’re not following through with the evacuation then?”

  “No. It wasn’t a popular notion before, and it’s even more unpopular now. People want to hole up in their houses, cover their gardens, secure their belongings, and hunker down in place.”

  “Then they will die.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  “I know that.”

  “What we do know is that leaving our homes, abandoning all that we’ve built this past year, is something nobody wants to do. We have no idea what we’ll even find out there.” She gestured to the west. “You didn’t experience the full brunt of the collapse of civilization. You didn’t fight for scraps of food to keep from starving. You didn’t drink ditch runoff and suffer from dysentery because there was no clean water to be found. You didn’t knife a man in the testicles because he was about to rape you.”

  “No, I didn’t. I had a relatively easy time getting through the end of the world. And do you know why? Because I knew disaster was imminent. I had seen it in my dreams. I used a significant portion of my wealth to prepare for it. Do you know what people said about me behind my back when they saw all those boxes of food being delivered to my house? What they whispered about me at cocktail parties after the well was dug? The nickname they settled on when word got out that I’d put a secret room in my house for storing my supplies? Crazy Ingrid the Doomsday Prepper. Crazy Ingrid. That’s what they called me. And do you think I cared one whit? No. Because I had faith in my dreams then, and I have faith in them now. This storm will kill everyone who doesn’t evacuate. I know it with every fiber of my being. And I can’t get people to leave without your help.”

  Rosemary sighed and closed her eyes. “So we’ll be taking the killer with us on this mass exodus?”

  “Is that what you’re worried about?”

  Rosemary’s laugh was bitter “That’s one of the many things I’m worried about.”

  Ingrid studied the younger woman as her mind raced. “If I catch the killer, will you consider evacuating then?”

  “How do you plan to do that?”

  “There have been times in my life when I programmed my subconscious to focus on a particular event or person so as to determine the future.”

  “And did it work?”

  “Not always, but sometimes it did. When I try to dial i
n like that, it’s not as reliable as when I allow the future to show me what it wants to. It’s almost as if whatever has given me this power does not want me to abuse it. Does that make sense?”

  Rosemary gave her a slow blink.

  Ingrid stifled the sudden rush of anger. “I will attempt to do so tonight when I go to sleep. I hope to have the name of our murderer for you in the morning. If I do, promise me you’ll go forward with the evacuation plans. That’s all I ask.”

  “And how will I know that the name you give me is correct?”

  “You’ll send Lucas to verify it. He’ll go to this person’s home and find the tools of his...or her... trade.”

  “Just like that. You make it sound so easy. You know Lucas has been covertly searching houses this entire time.”

  “Of course. Nothing happens in this place that I don’t know about. He’s clever, that young man of yours. I will admit that, even though I don’t like him.”

  “Gee, thanks. I’ll tell him you said so. It’ll mean a lot to him.”

  Rosemary had never spoken so rudely to her before. Ingrid let it slide, seeing it as a symptom of the woman’s exhausted state.

  “Tell him if you want. I don’t care either way. But tomorrow, if I give you a name, you may rest assured that it is the name of our murderer.”

  “How do I know that you won’t just pick a name of someone you don’t like?”

  “I am many things, young lady, but I am no liar. And I would never bear false witness.” She used the imperious tone she had cultivated during a lifetime of giving orders.

  “You’re right. I know you would never do that. Fine. Give me a name in the morning, and I’ll have Lucas check it out. What do we have to lose?”

  “And if I’m right, you agree to evacuate?”

  “I’m not agreeing to that outright, but I will say that I’ll push harder for an evacuation knowing that we don’t have a killer in our midst who could make the process even more dangerous.”

  “I suppose that’s all I can ask for then. I’ll say one more thing before I leave. I have never evacuated in advance of a hurricane. Not once since I’ve been living on this island. And whether or not the rest of you are coming with me, I will be leaving soon, even if I have to paddle my own boat. That should tell you how certain I am of my dreams. You know me, Rosemary. You know I’m no coward.” She leaned forward, taking Rosemary’s hands in her own. “The hurricane will destroy everything that remains. I know this with certainty, and I’m more afraid than I have ever been in my life...even more than when everyone around me was dying from the plague. This storm is leviathan. It will be the end of us all.”