The Journey is Our Home

by Kathy Miner

  She had thrown everything she had behind her shields. When his vines failed yet again to find purchase, Trent had scowled and redoubled his efforts. The silence between them had stretched on and on. Finally, frustrated, he had snapped a denial at her and sent her back to her stuffy little train-themed prison.

  The same little power struggle had occurred the next day, and here they were, again today. Piper stood in silence, watching him, watching his horrifying little vines attempt to penetrate her shields, and decided it was time to change it up. She turned, and headed for the door.

  “I can help your people when you’ve let me help mine,” she said over her shoulder. “Until then, you know where to find me.”

  “Wait!”

  Piper turned. Trent looked incredulous. She’d lay odds that people didn’t usually walk away from him without being excused. She felt an overwhelming urge to snap her fingers, give him the old head swerve and keep right on walking, but she made herself wait. Head high, spine straight, channeling the courageous warrior on his silly poster with all her might.

  Trent had half-risen from his seat, and he sank back down, trying to recapture his “cool.” His eyes slid down her body again, and this time, when his vines slid towards her, they were green and rosy pink with just a trace of lustful orange. She narrowed her eyes. What was this? Was he beginning to fancy himself in love with her?

  Trent’s eyes dropped shyly, and this time, in the silence that stretched between them, Piper found herself wrapped, head-to-toe, in a delicate tracery of green, enhanced here and there with blossoms of soft pink. From sinister to beautiful, just like that. It was hard to believe something so lovely could be dangerous.

  “You’re different,” Trent finally blurted. “The others, they just do what I want. I like that you’re different. I… I really hope we can become friends.”

  Piper’s eyes narrowed. Was this a trick? If not…her mind raced with the implications. Lust was powerful, but the more tender the emotions, the more readily she could manipulate them. Piper felt her mother’s disapproval as a buzz in her ear and a discordant tone in the bond connecting them but brushed both aside. Desperate times. She drew a deep breath, not sure what was about to happen, and lowered her shields enough to let Trent’s shy green vines slip in.

  The connection, on her part, was subtle. She felt a brief warmth in the center of her chest, then a soft tightening, and a tug. Then nothing. Trent’s response was more dramatic. For a moment, his eyes flew wide, and bright color once again slashed his cheekbones. His lips parted as he stared at her. Then his eyes went soft with longing. Piper felt just a niggle of guilt, but brushed that aside, too. Whatever he suffered when she severed this connection, he had coming.

  Trent dropped his eyes. Soft and shy. “What if…” he began, his voice cracking with youth and nerves. He swallowed, and tried again. “What if I could find a place for you here? A permanent place?”

  As badly as she wanted to tell him what she thought of his offer, she had to play along. “I’m listening.”

  Trent spread his hands on the table in front of him, reasonable now, almost apologetic. The kid was an extraordinary chameleon. “Well, we have rules. Our resources are limited, so we only take people in who have changed. You have medical skills, so I might be able to argue for an exception, but it would be best if you would just tell me what your gift is.”

  Interesting. So the small bond she’d allowed hadn’t given him total entrée. “I can shoot,” she said. “I was a good shot before, but I don’t miss now. Ever.”

  Trent’s face glowed with pleasure at her apparent trust in him. “I thought that might be it. The men have all been talking about how well you can shoot. Reggie says you were just lucky, but he’s my shooter, so he kind of has to say that. He has to, you know, whatever you call it.”

  “Save face.” Reggie, Piper had learned, was the jackass in the Raider cap, and she really hated it when he was her escort. He hadn’t touched her yet, but he stood way too close, breathing his foul breath on her while he muttered filthy things in a barely audible hiss.

  “Yeah. That.” Trent started swiveling in his chair again, cocky arrogance restored. “This is excellent. All you have to do is prove your skills, and you’re in.”

  Piper kept her face still, even as her heart gave an awful lurch. She’d thought she was being so clever. “I’ve already proved I can shoot.”

  Trent’s face dimmed. “Well, sure, you made a good shot. One good shot. But you still have to prove your skills in front of the whole community.” Suspicion, just a whisper of it, darkened the blue of his eyes. “You can do that, can’t you?”

  No way out. “Of course.”

  His face brightened again. “Excellent.” Inspiration made him beam. “I know! We’ll have a skeet-shooting competition between you and Reggie. That’ll be fun!”

  Piper nodded, and smiled pleasantly. “Whatever you think.” Shit. “I’d like to return to my room now, if you don’t mind.”

  Trent tried and failed to mask his disappointment. “Oh, well, sure…”

  Piper headed for the door.

  “Wait!”

  Piper turned back. Trent was on his feet, and his eyes were once again filled with longing. His slim chest rose and fell with his swift breathing for long moments, and the bond-line connecting them glowed with tensile, green strength.

  “I want you to be happy,” he blurted at last. “If you win, I’ll let your friends go. After you’ve healed my people, of course.”

  Christ, Piper thought. No pressure. “And if I don’t win?”

  “Well, but, you never miss... Isn’t that what you said?” Trent’s voice trailed off and she hurried to reassure him in spite of the fact that she wanted to vomit.

  “I’ll win,” she said, and walked to the door.

  The man who had been waiting opened it for her, and they left together, walking through the quiet streets to the old two-story farmhouse where they had been keeping her. Not until Piper was alone in the tiny upstairs bedroom did she drop the warrior façade. Her whole body wilted with exhaustion, and she dropped onto the bed, covering her eyes with her arm.

  “Holy hell,” she muttered. “I am well-and-truly screwed.”

  A soft rustle from the closet made her sit bolt upright. The door creaked open, and a tuft of matted blonde hair appeared, followed by a pair of unforgettable, summer-sky blue eyes. When those eyes connected with hers, every hair on her body prickled and rose to attention. She wanted to hold her breath, feeling as if a wild bird had just landed on her shoulder to regard her.

  “Hi there,” she said in the tender voice her mother always used with little kids. “We haven’t met. I’m Piper. Is this your room?”

  “No. Thomas is for babies.” A dirty nose and solemn mouth emerged from behind the door. “I know who you are. You’re Jack’s Valkyrie.”

  Piper lurched forward. “You’ve seen Jack? And Owen? Are they okay? Where are they?”

  The little boy vanished. Piper heard a series of soft scuffling noises and hurried across the room to pull the closet door open. A narrow rope hung from an attic opening in the ceiling above, and the little boy dangled half-way up it, frozen, staring at her with huge eyes. Piper held her hand out, palm up, and spoke with Naomi’s soft voice again.

  “It’s okay, honey – I’m sorry if I startled you. Will you come back down and talk with me a while?” She smiled her mother’s warm smile. “I could sure use the company.”

  The terror receded from his eyes, and he dropped to the ground with the grace and assurance particular to active little boys. Piper backed away from the closet to sit on the bed, and he followed. He stared at her for a few more moments, then moved to the table at the foot of the bed where a wooden train set had been set up. In spite of his earlier assertion, his face lit with quiet joy as he busily started rearranging tracks. Piper willed her voice to be soft and casual.

  “So Jack and Owen, they’re okay?”

  “Yeah.” He glanced at h
er, and just that brief contact with his eyes made her scalp tingle. “They gave Owen stuff to clean the blood off Jack’s head. Jack slept the whole first day. Then he woke up and puked like eighty times.” He sighed. “Maybe more like ten. But he’s better now. He still gets headaches, he says, but he’s not as dizzy.”

  “And Owen’s okay? When did you see them last?”

  “Last night. Owen’s fine.” A shadow flitted across his face. “Well, sort of. He’s so sad.”

  Interesting, that such a little boy could see Owen’s core of sorrow. She thought back to the ambush on the road, remembering the things he’d said, but decided she’d better put first things first. “What’s your name?”

  “Gideon.” He scooted a train along the tracks, making little chugging sounds. “Trent is my brother.”

  Piper nodded, hiding the spike of excitement she felt. An opportunity was blooming here. “I thought maybe you two were related. You look a lot alike. I haven’t seen you around, though. Not since that first day.”

  “Trent doesn’t let me out much.” Gideon’s lower lip crept into a plump pout. “He says he’s keeping me safe. He says he’s the only one who can understand me and that other people would hurt me.”

  “Hmm.” Piper’s eyes cataloged the signs of neglect, the dirt caked in the creases of his little arms, the too-small clothes. She remembered how her mother wouldn’t allow either of her girls to leave the house unless their hair and clothes were neat and clean. “Your appearance is your shield,” Naomi always said. “It tells people that someone loves you and is watching out for you.” No one was watching out for little Gideon, that was obvious. “So he doesn’t know you’re here right now.”

  “No. I sneak out whenever I know he won’t catch me. It’s easy, if you can climb ropes. And if you can see.”

  Slowly, slowly, Piper cautioned herself. “I’d hate for you to get in trouble. Your brother sees the future, right? Seems like he’d catch you, easy.”

  Gideon huffed and shot her a disgruntled look. “Trent doesn’t see the future.” He frowned in concentration as his little hands fumbled to construct a bridge, then met her gaze again. “I do. I see all kinds of stuff.”

  Piper’s breath left her on a long exhale. Grace used to talk about the big picture coming together like pieces of a puzzle, and Piper felt that happening now. She had sensed something off when Trent spoke of his ability, and now she knew why. He was passing his little brother’s ability off as his own. “Will you tell me what Trent can do?”

  Gideon’s face fell into troubled lines. “He knows how to hurt people if they won’t do what he wants. He gets them to let him in, then he knows how to make them do stuff, or how to make them sick.” He looked up at Piper, and his eyes went unfocused for a moment. Then he shook his head sadly. “You shouldn’t have let him in.”

  “I’ll be okay. I’m pretty tough.” But a chill tightened the pit of her stomach. It was possible she’d miscalculated. “What does he want, Gideon? Why is he keeping us here? Do you know?”

  “He wants it to be like it was before, when he could play his games all the time.” Gideon scratched his nose, his expression thoughtful. “His games made him happy. I think they made him feel safe. But there’s no more internet, so he wants Maple River to be like his games, I guess.”

  More puzzle pieces were clicking into place, faster and faster. “But why does he need us?”

  Gideon hooted a soft train whistle sound before he answered. “People with strong gifts make the best avatars, he says. If someone doesn’t have a gift, or if he can’t figure out how to control them, he doesn’t want them here.”

  “What happens to those people?” She remembered the men on the road aiming their weapons at Ed’s retreating back, and thought she might already know the answer. “What happens to people he can’t control?”

  Gideon wouldn’t look at her, and for long moments, he didn’t answer. Finally, he whispered, “Reggie. Reggie happens to them.”

  Piper smiled a reassurance she didn’t feel, and stood. “Thanks for telling me, Gideon. You go ahead and play – I’ll be right over here.” She left Gideon to his trains and moved to stare out the window as her brain raced to process what she’d learned.

  Of course. In his quest to recreate the comfort and security of his gaming world, Trent had weaponized his intuitive talent. His vines were puppet strings. Or maybe more like video game controllers, she corrected herself. Her mouth, she discovered, was suddenly dry, and she was shivering in spite of the stuffy warmth of the room. In all the discussions she and Jack had shared about the changes humanity had experienced, neither one of them had ever considered this.

  Piper thought about the various manifestations of intuition she’d seen or heard of, and a deep chill settled in her core. How lethal would Naomi be with a pack of dogs at her command? And what about Jack? He’d admitted to hurting others with his voice, but did he have more power than he’d even realized? Could he maim? Or kill? That people would learn to use their new skills to their best advantage was a given; that they would use their gifts to make weapons of themselves was terrifying on a new level.

  Piper leaned her forehead against the glass, watching people move around in the street below, wondering what their talents were, wondering what they might be capable of. She had been totally unprepared for this, and she, of all people, shouldn’t have been. Brody’s cold-blooded orchestration of the people and events around him should have taught her to look for the dark side of humanity first. She was a fool, wishing for the light.

  “That’s not right.”

  Piper looked over her shoulder. Gideon was gazing at her, a sad frown on his small face. “That’s not what that man was supposed to teach you. I’m sorry he hurt you. He’ll be sorry, too, in the time after this time. But he taught you things you needed to know, especially about yourself.”

  Piper felt a chill of an entirely different sort envelop her. “How do you know that?” she whispered. “How do you know those things, Gideon?”

  He scrambled to his feet and walked to stand beside her, then reached to tuck his grubby little hand in hers, touching her for the first time. Piper’s air left her on a rush as she gazed around in wonder. Power and beauty surrounded them, a circle of strength and peace and grace. “You’re like Verity,” she breathed. “You speak with angels.”

  “Yup.” Gideon dropped her hand and gave her a cheeky grin. “So you better be nice to me.”

  His eyes went unfocused again; then he looked at her with regret. “I have to go. They’re coming now, so you can shoot with Reggie.” He headed to the closet, then turned back. “You can beat him. But you shouldn’t. You should lose.”

  Piper followed, mind scrambling with unanswered questions, heart pounding with fresh anxiety. She watched as he slithered up the rope, and seriously considered climbing right up after him. He pulled himself into the square of darkness, little legs churning, but his flushed face re-appeared just seconds later.

  “You can’t come with me,” he said. “That would make everything go wrong. Go shoot with Reggie, but you have to lose. Tell Trent you won’t make the sick people better. He’ll be so mad.” Gideon grinned. “And everything will go just right.”

  “Wait!” She held a hand up to him. “If it doesn’t go right, can you get Jack and Owen out? They’re good men, Gideon. They’ll take you with them, if you want them to.”

  “I can get them out.”

  Relief flooded her. She heard footsteps in the hallway outside and made a shooing motion with the hand she still held outstretched. “Go, quick. Tell them I love them both. Will you do that, too?”

  Gideon grinned and reached to brush her fingertips with his. “Nah, that’s mushy stuff. You can tell them yourself. You’ll see them in just a little bit.”

  Piper blinked, stepping clear of the closet just as a key rattled in the door. Reggie stepped in, with his oily smirk and bad breath, but neither could penetrate the golden glow that still held Piper like warm arms. She sm
iled at him, feeling both far away and absolutely present in the moment.

  “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  She followed him outside. People were already gathering in the street as he led her into an old barn set just off the main drag. In the cool dimness, he unhooked a ring of keys from his belt, dangling them tauntingly in the air. “I might just let you use your own weapon if you ask me real nice.”

  His juvenile flirtation would have annoyed her before. Now, she just felt still. Calm. “I’d prefer to use the weapon you took from my friend,” she said. “The shotgun Jack was carrying.”

  Reggie just kept jingling the keys as he stared at her, sniggering softly. Under his leer, though, she could see his nerves. Both his reputation and his place in the community were on the line. She just waited in her golden stillness until he finally gave up. “Fine.”

  He unlocked a storage room door and reached up to pull a string, illuminating the interior with a bare light bulb. The room was ringed with shelves, and on those shelves were stacked all manner of firearms. Reggie stepped out of sight, reappearing a moment later with Jack’s shotgun. He broke it open and handed it to her, all without taking his eyes off her. “Let’s go powder some, sweetheart.”

  She preceded him out of the barn with the shotgun draped over her forearm, squinting in the bright sunlight. In silence, they walked to the north side of the barn where a group of men were lounging in the shade, many of whom Piper recognized from the confrontation on the road. They stood as Reggie and Piper approached, and one of them called out. “You two gonna put on a show?”

  “You got that right, hoss.” Reggie’s words sent sly sniggers around the group. He looked at Piper and played at chivalry. “Would you prefer outgoing or incoming targets, honey?”

  Piper shrugged. “Whatever you choose. Crossing and rabbits are fine, too.”

  Excited murmurs went around the group, and they scrambled to set up the launchers in various positions. Behind them, people were setting up lawn chairs and spreading blankets in the shade of the huge old Maple trees that had probably given the town its name. The mood was celebratory, the people buzzing with excitement at the prospect of entertainment.