Malcolm made a stop motion. “Stay in the laundry room with Maggie until I check the whole house.”
I did as instructed. My hand was starting to cramp from how hard I was gripping the boot scraper, but it was the only defense I had. I wasn’t about to put it down yet. The end had a nice metal edge, and the stiff copper bristles would hurt if I hit someone upside the head.
I could hear Malcolm moving quietly around the house. He started at the back and then passed by the laundry room door on the to the front of the house. My inner voice hummed with anxiety and restlessness.
Malcolm came back into view and said, “Inside is clear. I’ll check the perimeter again. Lock the door after me and turn on the front porch light.”
We followed him. Perhaps too close. Maggie reached around me to flip the front porch light switch. Malcolm went out. The door closed with a snick behind him. I threw the bolt.
My aunt grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the kitchen motioning to a seat at the table. After she had finished filling the kettle at the sink then putting it on the stove, she set the table. Malcolm knocked. As I drew nearer, I got suspicious. “Who is it?” I asked.
Malcolm responded in his deep baritone. “Smart girl. Open the door.”
I flipped the bolt and moved back to the kitchen so he would have room to move around in the entry way. I realized I was still holding the boot scraper in my hand and opened the cabinet under the sink to deposit it in the tub. I heard rustling as Malcolm removed his coat and hung it up.
Muddy boot prints were everywhere he had gone in the house, and Maggie piped up, “Malcolm get your butt in here before you track even more mud on my floors.”
He came around the short dividing wall in about two steps. “Send me the cleaning bill, Nag.”
Maggie smiled widely and replied in a nasal singsong voice, “Oooh, I’m telling Melodyyyy on you.”
Malcolm waved a hand dismissively at Maggie then gave me all of his attention. “So tell me what happened.”
Maggie set out some sliced bread on a platter. The butter and jam were already out, so I snagged a piece of bread. Malcolm didn’t waste any time preparing his food either and kept busy while waiting for my answer.
In my mind, I was trying to determine if I should start when we all woke or just when I saw the knob move. I decided for beginning at the beginning but took a bite of my bread first. While I was chewing, Maggie came to the table with three mugs. Sometime during my decision-making process about where to begin with Malcolm, the kettle had gone off, and I hadn’t noticed.
That disturbed me since I normally didn’t let the little things slip by. Perhaps I was just exhausted. I relayed the event up to when I went outside.
“When Gerome left, I noticed it was still really soggy outside and decided I should scrape our boots. While I was standing in the open doorway, I saw someone in the distance by the fence line. After I came back in, I bolted the door.”
I wrapped up my recitation of events with the sinister doorknob turn and Maggie and I standing in the laundry room listening for an intruder.
Malcolm didn’t say anything right away but continued to eat his bread and drink his tea. I almost felt like I could see the wheels turning. A person might mistake Malcolm as stupid if he wanted them to, but not for very long.
When he spoke, his voice was a deep warmth breaking the collected silence. “I don’t know what one might accomplish by attempting entry into a house that is obviously awake while so much of the compound is buzzing with the aftershock of an intrusion alarm. If they had managed to get in, you would have put up a fight and made some noise. Other than just outright killing both of you, how did they plan to get away unrecognized? If the plan was to kidnap you, there is no way they could have gotten you out of the compound unnoticed.”
Determination etched his face. “I’ll have to talk to Gerome when I get back to the station. From now on you lock the house when you leave, and I’ll see about setting up some glass breaks on the windows and motion sensor lights for the exterior. I saw one set of footprints that did come from the direction of the fence line. It looks to have been one assailant only.”
“Do you think we should start keeping a gun here besides Gerome’s?” Maggie asked darkly. “I’m not comfortable with them, but I’ll get comfortable if I need to.”
Malcolm looked at me but answered Maggie. “I think you should talk to Gerome. It’s not much use having a weapon around you aren’t familiar with. That just invites a person to take it away and use it against you. Sometimes household items work fine.”
He winked at me. I’m guessing he’d noticed my earlier death grip on the boot scraper. I didn’t know if he was complimenting or making fun of me.
“Alright, then I’ll bring it up to Gerome.” My aunt nudged me with her forearm. “You okay, honey?”
The light caught the damage to her nose and put it in shocking relief against the more healthy looking parts of her skin causing Malcolm to gasp loudly. “Good Lord, woman, who hit you in the face?”
His expression was equal parts astonishment and anger. I wanted to shrink into my chair and melt under the table—this was not good.
Maggie brushed his reaction away breezily. “It was an accident. I sat down too close to Cassandra after she was already in the Web and startled her when she came out. She feels terrible, and it will heal.”
At the word ‘heal’ Maggie patted my hand as it rested on the table.
Malcolm glanced at me sideways. “You still on for class?”
I nodded jerkily up and down.
He stuffed one more piece of bread in his mouth, chewed it quickly, drained his tea, and rose from the table. “If you’re ready to go, I’ll accompany you ladies to the clinic.”
I took that as my cue to bolt my food and drink as he had.
Maggie got all huffy. “Hold on a minute, I need to clean up.”
Before Maggie could get up all the way I was collecting all of the dirty plates to set them in the sink, then rushing to clear off the mugs. An urgent need had arisen in me to leave the house and get to the clinic. I wondered if James and Kara would be there yet…
When the kitchen was at least minimally picked up and the perishable items put in the refrigerator, I turned to Malcolm and asked, “Boots, tennis shoes, or both?”
To which he replied curtly, “Both. Carry the tennis shoes. You need something to change into after class when the ground dries up.”
I ran to my room, stuffed some extra clothes in a bag from the closet then came back into the living room, sat in Gerome’s favorite chair and removed my tennis shoes to put them in the bag as well. Malcolm ambled over with my boots dangling in his grip. Compared to his fist and forearm, my boots looked tiny. While I had packed my bag they had both gotten ready to leave, so now it was me holding up our departure. I shoved on my boots and laced them as quickly as possible. Done, I grabbed my bag and stood straight up from the chair to stare expectantly at them both. Then I said, “Well, let’s get going already.”
Malcolm chuckled under his breath then moved toward the front door to grab my coat and hold it out for me to shimmy into. I shoved my arms in with haste and mumbled a thank you. We all filed out of the house with Malcolm in the lead. Maggie brought up the rear and locked the door.
The ground was still really soggy from the rain and water dripped from the eaves of all the buildings. We might get more rain today, but hopefully, I would be inside for most of the weather.
I could see the clinic now in the distance; the lights on throughout the whole building made the white cross above the door glow. A couple of guards stood at the entrance. As we drew closer, Malcolm motioned us to go inside while he stopped to confer with the two men.
When Maggie went in, the bell gave its usual jingle. Instead of Nicky at the counter, there stood a man of medium height and build, with short cut light brown hair and army green eyes. He was about Maggie’s age. I figured this might be the David that Maggie spoke to on the phone.
>
We both paused to remove our boots and set them on the mats under the wooden benches. I noticed a pair that looked to be about James’ size, and my heart started to beat a little faster. When we turned to walk the lobby floor to the counter area, I nearly fell on my butt in my slick sock feet.
“David, is our patient back yet?” Maggie addressed him.
He seemed to hold his body less stiffly as if just by being here Maggie had pulled a stress release valve.
“James and Kara got here a few minutes ago with the guards up front. I sent them back to her bed to wait,” he said. “I have never heard of anyone waking up like that, Maggie, ever. This whole thing has about scared the crap out of me.”
David went over to the counter flap as he talked, waving his hands about in broad, graceful counterpoint to his words right up until he held it open for us to go through.
Maggie patted one of his arms as she passed by. “Well, honey, your night is almost over and my day is just beginning. Come on back with us so we can examine Kara together. If I take a look in the Web, you can monitor.”
David lowered the counter flap and followed. I didn’t feel comfortable with him at my back, but I couldn’t think of a way to inconspicuously move behind him. It didn’t matter now because I could see James and Kara sitting on her bed talking.
Kara looked so different awake. Before, in her catatonic state, she had resembled a mannequin with no life. Now Kara looked vibrant if a little confused and scared. I didn’t know how old she was—possibly about my age if I had to guess. Kara was covered in mud from the knees down, and rain plastered hair capped her head.
I hadn’t noticed any muddy footprints on the floor, so I wondered how they’d gotten Kara back to the bed. Maybe one of the guards had carried her? James had a tight grip on her hand and was talking to her in a quiet, reassuring tone of voice like he was trying to calm a wild animal.
When Maggie, David, and I drew even with the bed, both James and Kara stopped talking and faced us. James wore a huge smile that seemed to be just for me.
He stood and said, “Kara, I would like you to meet some of the people that have helped take care of you. Maggie is our resident doctor at the compound.” Maggie tilted her head in greeting. “David is our night nurse and Cassandra is Maggie’s niece.” David and I both nodded and offered a smile in acknowledgment.
Kara gave no verbal response, but her eyes wouldn’t leave mine.
“Would you mind if I help you get cleaned up in the bathroom and maybe find you some more clothes?” Maggie asked.
After Kara had given a jerky nod, my aunt turned to David and asked, “Can you get the sheets stripped and clean up the floor?”
David hopped to the task and headed down the hall I knew had the bathroom, but maybe there was another room that I hadn’t seen. Kara let Maggie begin to lead her away in the same direction. She looked back at James for reassurance. He smiled encouragement.
“I think my sister is afraid if she’s away from me this will all be a dream. I was raised in the compound until I was five and then we moved out to find spontaneous Weavers in the human population with my parents. She doesn’t remember being here at all. Kara was only three, so I can see how she could forget. Waking up alone in the infirmary freaked her out, so she ran outside. All the alarms started going off which scared her even more. I’m just glad they didn’t shoot her accidentally. At least, she remembers about Mom and Dad’s car wreck, so I didn’t have to tell her all over again. I’m so glad she’s back!”
After that pronouncement in rapid-fire James style, he reached out and grabbed me to him in a tight, full body hug. I could feel every bit of him pressed against me, even through my coat, and I almost dropped my bag. He let me go abruptly and rested his hands on my shoulders.
We made direct eye contact, and he started to lean in my direction, but David hustled back into the room with an armful of clean linens. The moment fell apart. Suddenly I felt awkward, and a blush crept up James’ cheeks. I tapped his fingers lightly, and said, “Hey, it’s okay.”
He squeezed my fingers back then let them go. We shuffled our feet for a second and David completely ignored us as he efficiently worked at remaking Kara’s old bed. David left briefly to get a bucket and sponge then set about cleaning the floor of Kara’s muddy footprints.
The floor boards creaked, and water sloshed as we waited for Kara and Maggie to return. I didn’t like the lack of conversation, so I asked James, “Will Kara stay with you now?”
“Yes, I think so. I haven’t thought that far in advance really. I’m staying at the barracks, but I don’t know if that will work for Kara. I’ll have to ask someone about housing arrangements.” He stared off in thought absently, probably planning his next move already.
After a bit, Maggie came back with a sparkling clean Kara in tow. She was even more beautiful now that the mud was gone. The clothes didn’t fit her well, probably because they weren’t hers, but Kara still made them look good. Standing and walking around as she was I noticed her height almost matched her brother. That was pretty impressive considering she was about two years younger.
Kara zeroed in on me again and started to speak, but James interrupted, “Do you feel better now that you’re all clean?”
Kara only briefly broke eye contact with me. “Yes. Do I know you?”
She’d directed the question at me, and I was confused by it. “No, we’ve never met, at least not while you were awake.”
“Kara, is it okay if we conduct a physical examination then check out your presence in the Web?” Maggie asked. “If you don’t want to go in the Web again right away, I’ll understand.”
Kara frowned pensively in agreement. Maggie came closer and gestured for Kara to sit. I didn’t want to stand there and gawk, but I didn’t mean to leave either. I fidgeted around restlessly until it annoyed Maggie.
“Cassandra, why don’t you put your bag in my office, honey.” Maggie sounded as if she were trying hard not to lose her patience.
I turned away mutely before anyone could see the rush of blood to my cheeks. Used to the thick hollow sounds of my booted feet on the hardwood floor, the soft creaks my steps made in sock feet were a welcome change.
After I had deposited my bag on the sofa in Maggie’s office, I took off my coat, for once feeling warm and restless. The hot part was new to me, and I wondered about it. I was obviously too keyed up to sleep, so I decided to explore the short hall that had the bathroom and see what else was back there.
Past the door to the bathroom stretched another short hall that veered off to the right abruptly. It opened up into a room painted entirely white. A shower stall with a curtain was right next to a white washing machine and dryer set. Neatly stacked linen and towels rested on shelves above the well-maintained appliances. Two big square sinks were to my left. I wondered if they were to soak the laundry dirtied with human waste or blood.
The thought of blood reminded me of my menses, and I realized it might be coming again soon. Maybe that was why my body was running hot? My inner voice disagreed, and I closed my eyes to try something new. I concentrated and thought to my inner voice, “Why won’t I get my period?”
I didn’t expect an answer from myself, but the response was immediate and excited.
“Because it’s not comfortable for us. You don’t like it. Why do you care if we have it?”
My heart started to beat at a punishing pace. “Who are you?”
Silence, then a feeling of intense relief came. “I am you, and you are me. I’ve been waiting for you to ‘hear’ me again.”
I thought back to all the inner conversations and musings I’d had with myself over the years. It had been that way for as long as I could remember, well before my period of incarceration.
“Yes, exactly,” my inner voice confirmed, and then images were flipping in a rush across my mind, blurs of worried expressions on my parents’ faces.
A flash of a comment echoed in my mother’s voice, “We have to go back a
nd ask Gerome for help.”
“No, he made it clear when you gave up your Council seat there was no going back,” responded my father. “We’ll figure it out, Rebecca.”
I recognized the clothes they were wearing in the memory, and I felt sick. They had been fighting about me on the day of their death.
“About us,” my inner voice asserted.
I started to panic then. What was wrong with me?
“Nothing is wrong with us; we’re fine. Do not tell anyone about us, Sister. They’ll only think we’re crazy. I’ve always been here, and I’ve never hurt us.”
I opened my eyes and concentrated on the white painted walls in the laundry room then slowed my breathing. Gradually the panic subsided, and I asked, “Why did you call me sister? What should I call you?”
A pleased feeling and happy excitement filled my inner voice. “I called you sister because you are my sister, Sister. I like the name Silver so call me that.”
This explained so much and so little. I could remember now talking to Silver when I was small. Why had the name alone brought the memories back? “Did you take my memories of you away?”
Silver sighed patiently in my head. This was so strange yet comforting.
“Yes, Sister, I did. No one at ‘the place’ could know about me, it would have been dangerous, so I made you not remember. I built a trigger in your mind. If I ever told you my name they would release.”
It scared me immensely that Silver could pick and choose what made me ‘me.’ “Don’t ever change my memories again! My thoughts are supposed to be my own, not yours to meddle with.”
Silver sent hurt feelings my way. I doubted their authenticity. Just as she could feel my emotions, I could feel hers or was it his?
Silver's response was petulant, “I was protecting us. I would think a ‘thank you’ was more in order. Just to be clear, we are one and not one. What happens to me happens to you. If it comes down to the protection of ‘us’ I will do whatever I see fit, even if it makes you mad, Sister.”
Chimera (The Weaver Series Book 1) Page 10
