“I used to play in here when I was little,” said Emily. “I’d hide behind that table and make up stories.”
“Did you ever come across a book by your uncle Jakob?”
“I wasn’t old enough to read.”
Daniel was scanning the shelves. “A red binding …”
She held up her hand for quiet. “They’re coming! Behind the table, quick!”
They all huddled down, out of sight, just as the pocket doors slid open and two soldiers entered.
“I don’t want to hear about this,” said one man.
“You better hear about it. It’s getting worse.”
“Is it safe in here?”
In the shadows, Daniel looked over at Emily.
“How long have we been in this hayseed town, anyway?” came a voice.
“Lost track. He’s got this idea there’s a load of weapons here.”
“No wonder he’s in trouble. He can’t go back, you know.”
“Don’t talk so loud.”
“Meoww!”
Behind the table, the children looked at one another questioningly. A moment later, Mallow, Bridey’s white cat, was behind the table with them, purring loudly. She must have come in with the soldiers.
“Everybody knows he’s a loose cannon,” one of the men was saying. “And I don’t mean the one he keeps firing off into the trees.”
The other soldier shuffled over to the library table and flipped idly through the dictionary. The children stared at the tips of his round-toed boots. “So, what are we supposed to do? Desert?”
The other came over and sat on the table’s edge, just in front of where the children crouched. “Some already have. Except for that poor lad he shot.”
“That was a horror.”
“He’s getting crazier. He gets these ideas in his head. Now we have to chase around after an old lady and some kids.”
“I know.”
“Mrroww!”
She’s hungry, Emily realized, petting the animal to quiet her.
“Besides which, he thinks everybody’s lying to him. Well, how can you tell him the truth? He doesn’t want to hear that we’re losing.”
“You think we’re losing?”
“I think we’ve lost.”
The soldier stopped flipping through the dictionary. “Look, Bailey, we’re not the first soldiers who’ve had crazy leaders, and we won’t be the last.”
“So we stick?”
“Long as we can.”
There was a big sigh from one of them. “We better get back. They’ve started firing again.”
The doors rumbled open, then rumbled closed.
Emily peered around the side of the table. Slowly they all stood up, the cat circling their legs.
“Bailey,” Daniel murmured. “He’s Sloper’s aide. And he’s thinking about deserting?”
“What did he mean, ‘He can’t go back’?” said Wesley.
Daniel pursed his lips. “Sounds like Sloper’s got himself in trouble with the higher-ups.”
“Whatever it is,” said Emily, “we’ve got to find Grandma. Let’s check that book we’re supposed to see.”
Daniel was scanning the higher shelves. “Is that it?” He pointed to an oversized volume with red velvet binding. It was well out of reach. He pulled over a chair. Even that didn’t get him high enough, so he set the big dictionary on the chair and stood on it.
The chair had one leg shorter than the others and wobbled dangerously. Still, he was able to touch the bottom edge of the book and tease it out with his fingertips.
He almost had it. But it was heavier than he’d expected. Still grabbling for the book, he felt the chair tip to the side, and suddenly book and boy went crashing to the floor.
He moaned, but quietly, listening hard. All he could hear was his heart.
Then came the tromping of feet and the two soldiers barged in, staring. Seconds later, Captain Sloper appeared, with Stecher right behind him.
The sitting room was made for afternoon teas, not muddy-booted soldiers, but that’s where the children were taken. Sloper threw himself into the flowered chair beneath the painting of the picnic and flicked ash from his cigarillo. “Let’s be quick about this. I can’t be bothered with children when I’ve got a war to run. Dominick! Be a good fellow and take them out and drown ’em.”
The large person named Dominick flushed.
“What? Haven’t you ever drowned a litter of kittens?”
“No, sir.”
“Time you learned. On second thought, leave the older boy. I need one person who’ll tell me the truth.”
“Yes, sir. So I should drown these other two?”
“The young one I don’t care about. You can leave him. But the girl, yes.” He glanced at Daniel. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
Sloper cocked his head. “You think I’m cruel.”
“Yes,” said Daniel. “Emily is no threat to you.”
“Yeah!” cried Wesley, who was near tears. “She never hurt you!”
The captain leaned back and took in the children standing before him. His cigarillo wove a foul-smelling wreath around his head. “I don’t have time for this. I have to get into town. There’s some kind of riot by the grocery store.”
“My dad’s store?” said Daniel. “Are my parents there?”
“I suppose they are. Dominick? If you please. You can take Johnson with you. Come right back, though. And then get into town. I’m going to need you.”
Daniel took a step forward, though a soldier held his arm. “Wait. What is it about Emily? Why do you care about her?”
“I don’t. She’s unfinished business, that’s all. The family’s a symbol, a rallying point.”
Daniel’s face was hot. “She’s not a symbol, she’s a person.”
“To you she’s a person. To the rebels …”
“I think you’re crazy.”
Sloper stood up. He wasn’t as tall as Daniel, but he was dangerous. The cigarillo jittered between clenched teeth. “Nobody says that to me.”
“No one tells you the truth.”
Anger blazed, then dimmed. “And why is that, do you suppose?”
“They hate you and they fear you.”
“So you’re saying they’re all traitors.”
“I’m saying they hate you and they fear you.”
“And you don’t.”
Daniel hesitated. “I don’t hate you.”
Sloper smiled just enough to reveal the gap in his teeth. “That’s half an answer.”
Emily spoke quietly. “Danny, don’t bother.”
“She makes a good point,” said Sloper. He gave a nod at Dominick.
The man saluted and took Emily by the arm. The young soldier named Johnson took the other arm.
“Don’t you hurt her!” Wesley cried.
Sloper leaned forward and smiled in a kindly way. “You must understand, I have no wish to harm your friend here, but she picked the wrong bloodline.”
“You can’t!” Wesley cried, tear-blinded.
“It’s okay, Wes,” said Emily. As she turned the corner, she shot a glance at Daniel. Her look was unreadable, but there was goodbye in it.
As she was being led out, a messenger passed them in the hall. “One of the farmers,” he said, “is refusing to let our men take his soybeans.”
“You bother me with this?”
“Sorry, sir, but he’s threatening to burn his field.”
“What!”
“That’s what he said, sir, just before he set his dogs on us. Said he’d rather nobody had it than us.”
“Well, he’s saving us the trouble, then. We’re burning them all tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sloper paused. “Hold on. Maybe we shouldn’t wait. Start the burning today.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Start it now!”
“Hey, you.” Emily spoke to the man ahead of her. “Yes, you, Fatty.”
“Are you going to shoot me, or just throw me in and let the snakes and quicksand do it for you?”
No answer, but she could see the back of his thick neck growing pink. He’s not thinking any of those things, she realized. He’s just trying to figure out how to make me shut up.
She knew it wasn’t smart to make the men mad at her, but she couldn’t help herself. If she was going to die, she’d die spitting in their faces.
They walked in silence. The sheen of the creek was visible through the trees. Emily felt the bumpy line of pearls beneath the front of her dress. Maybe she could bribe the soldiers. The necklace must be worth something. Pearls from the island pools had to be rare. But she dismissed the idea. They’d just take the pearls and kill her anyway.
They were passing the big cottonwood she’d often admired from the top of the house. Beside it waved an oversized rose of Sharon bush.
Goodbye, beautiful flowers, she thought, pausing.
“Move on!” said the man behind her, giving her a shove. That surprised her. He was young and nice-looking, with blond hair and high cheekbones. You don’t expect someone with cheekbones like that to shove you.
They continued in silence, finally reaching the water at a place well downstream from the bridge. By then, Emily didn’t have a single trick left. Even reading the men’s minds was no help.
Dominick was making a great noise whacking away at the underbrush with a machete, opening a pathway. He swore as a branch swung back and stung his neck.
A few minutes later, he called, and Emily went without protest, stepping carefully along.
“All right, then,” said the big man when they came to the water’s edge. But he didn’t seem to know what to do next.
The other soldier looked indecisive as well, for all his good looks and mean thoughts.
For some reason, this made Emily angry. “What’s the matter? Do your job! Shoot me. Push me. Do something!”
The silence persisted. They were staring at the water. Rotted sticks and broken vines made Emily think there were more snakes than there really were.
The younger soldier pulled out his handgun, and then Dominick did, too. “Okay,” said the first man, “jump.”
“Jump? You mean I have to do it myself?”
“Go ahead,” said Dominick. The anger had drained from his face, leaving it as pale as a pockmarked moon.
The girl looked from one to the other. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”
“Sure we have,” said the younger one, rolling his shoulders.
The big one just looked at him.
“And a girl, too.” Emily shook her head pityingly. “It’s not so easy to start with a girl.”
“Shut up,” said Dominick without conviction.
“Even somebody as annoying as me.”
“We have our orders,” said the big man.
“How convenient.”
“Shut up,” he said again, but in a voice so low she almost didn’t catch it.
During the next half minute, the silence built up like pressure around a diving bell. For all her bravado, Emily found herself breathing shallowly, her eyes following the snakes as they came by, sometimes singly, sometimes in a slither of three or more. Finally, the young soldier could take it no longer. With sudden force, he grabbed hold of the girl’s arm, spun her around, and flung her out into the stream.
Just before she hit the water, Emily happened to catch sight of the horrified look on Dominick’s ravaged face.
It was the most beautiful face in the world.
The boys were seated on heavy dining-room chairs, their hands tied tightly behind them. Arthur Stecher lounged at the end of the table, pouring himself a generous glassful of the captain’s calvados. He didn’t seem to care that Sloper might not like him dipping into his stock. In fact, after his second round, he didn’t care about much of anything beyond his own grievances. His rant against the Byrdsong family had begun to slur, like a dirt road after rain.
He was talking to the world in general and seemed to enjoy his performance more the wilder it got. The boys, meanwhile, were working to undo the ropes. Their wrists were rubbed raw, but they were getting nowhere. Stecher knew his knots.
There was nothing to do but squirm and listen. Time passed with inexcusable slowness. Stecher paused to drink and think, but soon he remembered more wrongs and started in again.
Emily. Daniel’s mental processes were reduced to a single word. He glanced at his brother and saw a tear working its way down his cheek. Wes had to be thinking the same one-word thought.
Emily, Emily, Emily. Enemy. The enemy is killing Emily. There was no thinking straight while Stecher was sitting there reliving the wrongs he’d suffered. Having used up the Byrdsongs, he moved on to Sloper and how poorly the captain paid for valuable information. “Always was a stingy bastard. You’d think, when I handed him Miranda, he’d of been grateful.” Stecher thumped his fist on the table.
“Wes,” Daniel whispered.
His brother looked over.
“Any luck?”
Wesley shook his head.
Keeping one eye on Stecher, Daniel edged his chair an inch, then another inch, closer to his brother.
“Whatchoo talking about over there?” Stecher growled, remembering the boys’ existence.
Daniel tried for a smile. “My brother says the ropes are hurting him.”
“Wall, isn’ that too bad.” He looked into his glass, surprised to find it empty. The flask was empty, too. “Wait here,” he said, grinning his yellow-toothed grin as he struggled to his feet. “Don’t you go runnin’ off, now.”
He didn’t notice the sideboard and slammed right into it, overturning a serving tray and spilling sugar over the floor. Puzzled, he tucked his chin to concentrate, then wavered out the door.
“Okay,” said Daniel, inching his chair closer to his brother. Wesley did the same, turning the chair as he went, until they were almost back to back, and each could just reach the other’s rope.
“Quick, Danny!” he whispered.
“Easy does it. Let me get a little closer.”
“That’s a heck of a knot.”
“Hold still.” Daniel felt for the end of the rope. There it was. Tight as a tick. He began working it up through the knot. As he tried to visualize what he was doing, he became aware of an oddly sour smell. A rough hand grabbed his shoulder, and he let out a yelp.
“Think you’re smart, do you?” Arthur Stecher gave the boy’s head a hard downward push and started dragging the chair, with Daniel in it, to the other side of the table. “I can’t leave for a damn minute!”
The boy’s neck hurt from the violent shove. He closed his eyes. Everything was hopeless. Emily was dead. Horribly murdered. The vision of human-headed snakes slid through his mind.
He had to open his eyes to get free of the image. Turning, he noticed a slight movement by the doorway. There was a sudden loud gong, and Stecher staggered forward, leaning against the table to steady himself.
Standing behind him, soaking wet and holding a heavy saucepan, was Emily Byrdsong!
“Em!” Wesley practically screamed.
Daniel stared.
Stecher had a moment of incomprehension; then he roared and started blindly after her. She backed against the sideboard, holding the pot like a shield, as if it were any kind of defense. He lunged. She ducked away in time. It helped that he was dazed and drunk. He came after her again, and she managed to gong him again, but not as hard, and he easily wrested the saucepan from her. Desperate, she grabbed the back edge of the oaken sideboard and pulled with all her strength, tipping it over. Stecher tried to jump away but slipped on the sugar, and drawers filled with silverware, linens, and candles cascaded down on him.
He lay with the wind knocked out of him. She stood above him, amazed at what she’d done.
“Em! You got him!”
> “Wait there!” she called, running to the pantry. In a moment, she was back with a bread knife and cut them free.
Wesley hugged her, wet as she was.
“How …?” Daniel began.
“Tell you later,” she said. “He’s coming around.”
Stecher’s head was moving back and forth as he tried to push the heavy sideboard from his chest.
They hurried to the hallway, but there Emily lifted a cautionary hand. Through the open front door they could see soldiers.
A crash of silverware behind them made the children jump. Stecher grunted.
“The back door!” Emily cried.
They ran to the kitchen. Her hand was on the doorknob when she saw, coming out of the woods, the two soldiers who’d taken her to the creek.
“What do we do?” she whispered.
“I don’t know,” said Daniel. “We need to get to town.”
“Mom and Dad are there!” Wesley was breathing hard.
Emily took a key off the nail by the door. “Anybody know how to drive?”
Before they could answer, they heard Stecher’s footsteps clumping about in the hall. Trapped on all sides!
“The window!” Emily slid it open and climbed partway out. “We have to go up!”
“Up?” whispered Daniel.
“If we can get to my room, we can hide in another season!” She got her feet set on a trellis bushy with ivy.
Wes looked confused, but there was no time to think; the footsteps were too close. Daniel grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled him behind the door a moment before Stecher appeared. The big man let out a belch and leaned against the door to steady himself, pressing the boys against the wall.
“Hey!” he yelled, seeing Emily’s foot disappearing through the window.
Stecher stumbled across the kitchen and thrust his head outside just as the girl was nearing the second floor. He struggled out and began clambering up the creaking slats. Somewhere behind him, the staff car roared into life. Dominick climbed in with the others, unaware of the drama behind him, and the car rumbled away.
The Door in the Forest Page 15
