The Journey is Our Home

by Kathy Miner

  A ripple of genuine laughter circled around the group, and Jack felt the tension in his shoulders ease. He lifted Gideon to his hip, but before he could swing him around to piggy-back position, Owen had plucked the little boy free and deposited him on his own back.

  “Your head,” he explained. He jiggled Gideon, making him giggle and reminding Jack that he’d been a father of three, before the plague. “I’ll do the heavy lifting. You just walk a straight line, okay?”

  Jack nodded, and looked towards the door to find Reggie watching him. The other man nodded at Gideon. “So he’s the one who knows the future? Trent told us all he could do was see what others can do, who’s dangerous, stuff like that.” He made a disgusted sound. “Guess he lied about that, too. Kid’s right at the top of my shit list, tell you what. All right, let’s go. Stay quiet and stay close.”

  They filed out after Reggie and his men with Piper bringing up the rear, climbing the stairs and gliding through the dark, silent house. Once outside, Piper moved to Jack’s side. Her fingers brushed his, but she didn’t take his hand as they ghosted through the empty streets. Like Reggie and his men, her eyes scanned around them constantly and her rolling footsteps were soundless. Every once in a while, she lifted her nose to the breeze or tilted her head to listen. She made him think of a wolf, silent and lethal. Not the gypsy Naomi always named her, but something more elemental and wild.

  They were within sight of the bikes when everything went south. The coughing sound of a generator starting up made them all freeze just before a bank of lights pinned them like bugs to a board where they stood. Piper and Reggie both brought their weapons to the ready, squinting in the direction of the lights, as a young voice, high with nerves, rang out.

  “Nobody move! Reggie and Piper, I’ve got five guns on both of you – lower your weapons!”

  They exchanged a glance before they both dropped their rifles to their hips. Jack knew Piper could shoot from that position, and apparently Trent knew the same thing about Reggie.

  “Put them on the ground, all of you, and just stay right where you are! We outnumber you three to one!”

  As if by prior agreement, neither Reggie nor Piper moved. Then, a slight, dark silhouette stepped out in front of the lights and spread its arms. Both Piper and Reggie tensed, bringing their rifles to bear on the slim figure, but Trent spoke before either of them could act. His voice was gleeful, euphoric. “I asked you nicely to put your weapons on the ground. Now I’ll make you!”

  Instantly, Reggie and his men staggered, and Piper gasped. She dropped to her knees, her rifle landing roughly on the ground in front of her, both hands clutched over her heart. She looked up at Jack, tried to say something, but could only cry out again and pant for air. Jack spun back, praying he’d heard enough to do what needed doing.

  “Stop.” Thunder seemed to rumble in the air around him. He heard Owen’s startled exclamation, and Trent’s men swearing, but Trent just jerked his head and continued to stand, arms outstretched.

  “You can’t make me listen,” he shrilled. “I made Gideon tell me what you can do, and I don’t have to listen to you!”

  Lord, if lives weren’t hanging in the balance, Jack might have laughed. How many times had he heard those words, in just that tone, from an angry, broken kid? He reached deep, into the imperatives of authority and control, and let those powers course through his words. “Stop, Trent. Stop now.”

  Trent dropped to his knees, but whatever hold he had on Piper and the others did not relent. Reggie was curled up on the ground, clutching his skull and moaning. One of his men appeared to be unconscious, and the other had collapsed on his hands and knees and was vomiting helplessly.

  Piper’s skin was grey. She looked up at him, eyes dull, lips blue, and he felt the bond between them falter. She tried to say something, but he couldn’t make it out.

  She was dying. And it was in his power to stop it.

  He looked up at Trent, and knew the word he needed to speak: Die.

  Jack knew the place in his heart that harbored the dark power. He had touched that blackness in his soul when he violated Layla. Justifications began to hiss through his mind: This community would be better off without this dangerous young man; better to end him now, before he could mature, perhaps become more powerful; this whole, changed world would be that much safer, that much less violent, without Trent Donnelly in it.

  The blackness boiled up around his feet and raced up his body, eager to be unleashed. Jack took in a deep breath of air, then…

  Stopped.

  His eyes found Gideon, where he was still clinging to Owen’s back. His small face was ghostly white, his eyes otherworldly blue, and the terrible grief twisting his childish features stopped Jack, stopped him cold. Trent was his big brother. As surely as Jack loved his younger sister, no matter how long they’d been apart, no matter the wounds they’d dealt each other, Gideon loved Trent, faults, cruelty, selfishness and all. Jack could feel the bond between them. He had the power to sever that bond, and little Gideon knew it. Knew it, and was already mourning.

  What had this angel-touched child seen?

  Please. Jack sent the simple prayer to the heavens. Please. Guide me.

  A cool calmness seemed to open up around him, giving him time to think, time to consider. His eyes returned to Piper, and he remembered what she’d said on a beautiful summer evening not so long ago: We’re all one. When one of us suffers, we all suffer. When we love, when we lift each other up, we are all lifted. He thought about what she’d seen when she had killed the man named Josh, and realized she’d learned what she’d learned because of her intuitive ability. Because of her willingness to see herself honestly, without excuses or rationalizations.

  And just like that, he knew. What he needed to do had always been with him. He had the sensation that a lifetime of experience and preparation had led to this very moment. He had just enough time to send a wry prayer to God that there would be life beyond this night, life with Piper’s kisses in it, life with another chance to be the brother he always should have been. Then, he acted.

  Jack stepped right in front of Trent and dropped his shields completely.

  Words had always been Jack’s gift, but the pain was something he couldn’t begin to describe. He felt as if some great creature had torn his chest open with long claws and bitten into his beating heart. How could one young man harbor so much misery? How did he function, trapped under the net of such paralyzing fear? Trent’s eyes met his, filled with the agony of a young creature whose needs had never been met, and perhaps never could have been. Jack had encountered kids like Trent before, kids whose need yawned black and deep, a bottomless pit of dissatisfaction and emptiness. The only thing that could fill Trent, Jack knew, was love. And that love had to come from Trent himself.

  All Jack could do was understand, absorb and then reflect that pain, channeling it away from the others. The world narrowed to his connection with Trent, to a dark tunnel he feared he might never escape. When he couldn’t endure another moment, he sucked in a lungful of air and bellowed Trent’s pain to the sky. Then, the blackness became complete.

  What might have been days or minutes later, he opened his eyes.

  Piper and Owen were hovering over him, their frantic faces backed by a starry sky. “I’m on the ground,” Jack said inanely. He struggled to sit up, but found himself held down on both sides. “Why am I on the ground?”

  Piper and Owen looked at each other, then back down at him. “We’re not sure what happened,” Owen said, “But now that we know you’re alive, we think it might have been a good thing.”

  “Somehow, you stopped him. He collapsed at the same time you did and his people hustled him out of here,” Piper said. Her color had improved, though Jack still wouldn’t call it good. “You broke his hold on us, but I don’t know how.”

  This time, when Jack tried to sit up, they helped him. “I do,” he said quietly.

  He looked around. Reggie and his men were sittin
g up, looking exhausted but otherwise unharmed. Just behind Owen stood little Gideon, his hands clutched together over his chest, his eyes shining with wonder. “So do I.”

  Jack held his arms out, and Gideon scrambled into them, curling against Jack’s chest. Jack closed his eyes, resting his cheek on Gideon’s grungy, pungent hair, allowing the little boy’s gift to fill him with light and strength. “I surprised you, didn’t I?”

  “You did!” Gideon looked up at him, then reached to rest his hands on Jack’s jaw. With his touch, Jack caught a flash-forward glimpse, to a future where this sweet-hearted boy would become as dear as life and breath, a son of his heart. “You didn’t kill him,” he whispered. “What I saw didn’t come true. It doesn’t always have to come true!” He laughed, the sound pure, care-free little boy. “I don’t always have to see!”

  “This is touchin’ and all,” Reggie drawled, rising to his feet and gesturing to his men to do the same. “But unless you want to be here when Trent and his zombies regroup, I suggest we save the snuggling for later and get the hell out of here.” He started towards the bikes, moving slowly at first, then with greater confidence. “We’ll take you as far as the main road, then you’re on your own. Looks like me and the boys burned a few bridges, so we’re out of here.”

  Owen stood, then reached down to help Jack up. The whole world performed a graceful spiral, then two, then stabilized. Gideon clung like a monkey when Owen tried to take him, and Jack shook his head. “I’m okay. I’ve got him.”

  Piper picked her rifle up from where she’d dropped it, and they all followed Reggie. “We’ll head to Onawa,” she said, strength and determination returning to her voice, as surely as the pink had returned to her cheeks. “We’ll pick up Ed and Rosemary, then I think we should make tracks. I just have this feeling.” She rubbed the center of her chest, and her worried eyes met Jack’s. “I’m afraid we wouldn’t walk away a second time.”

  Jack settled onto his motorcycle with Gideon in front of him. They fired the bikes up, then followed the taillights of Reggie’s pickup out of town, headed south towards Highway 30. Gideon craned his head to look back as Maple River slipped away behind them, an expression both wistful and fearful on his face.

  When they reached the intersection that would take them back west to Onawa, Reggie slowed. He lifted an arm in farewell, then gunned his pickup, heading east towards a sky that was starting to lighten with approaching dawn. Jack looked down at Gideon, and once again, the little boy’s eyes were sad and far away.

  “What is it?”

  Gideon sighed. His little hands knotted in Jack’s t-shirt with surprising strength. “You let him in. You let him all the way in. Piper was right,” he said, so softly Jack had to strain to hear. “Next time you see Trent, you won’t walk away.”

  FIFTEEN: Cass: Milwaukee, Wisconsin

  “Ready about!” Luc called from his position at the tiller, and Cass hopped to. She checked the area around them, then held tight to the freed jib sheet and called back.

  “All clear!”

  “Coming about!”

  Holding the port sheet, Cass slowly released the starboard side, allowing the jib to fill on the opposite side. At the same time, Luc pulled the main sheet in and turned the bow of the boat into the wind. As the boat turned, Cass pulled the jib sheet in and made it fast. The sails flapped loudly until they were pulled in tight; with more speed and efficiency than she ever could have managed, Luc adjusted tiller and mainsail until they were once more flying along close-hauled. They’d been sailing into the wind since dawn, beating south along the Wisconsin shore, and no matter how many times they successfully completed a tack, she marveled at how easy he made it look.

  Before she’d started taking lessons from Luc, she’d thought she had a handle on the basics. Veda had taught her about points of sail, how to tack and jibe, reef sails and heave to. She was even a fair hand at backing out of irons. Ten minutes into her first lesson with Luc, her ignorance felt like a flashing neon sign, complete with prominent down-arrow, hanging right over her head. He and his younger brother Bastian, who sometimes helped with the lessons, knew more about sailing than she could learn in a lifetime. Like their father, the boys had been born for water, wind and sail.

  Cass had become something of a Nolette family project. In spite of Veda’s predictions, she had no intention of asking Luc along on her journey. As her lessons had progressed, however, Luc’s father had gotten involved, and the next thing Cass knew, both Gavin and Luc were insisting on accompanying her. From there, the plan evolved into leaving her little boat behind in favor of Luc’s first-born ship-building project, a 40’ custom-built sloop christened the Grindylow.

  “We can’t take your ugly little abomination,” Gavin had reasoned with her, as he and Luc had exchanged smirks. Cass’s beloved and homely MacGregor was a source of mockery for all the Nolette men. “It’s just not big enough to be stable in rough seas. At the very least, you’ll be dealing with heavy chop around the Porte des Morts. Besides, there’s no way of knowing how many people we might be bringing back. If we do find your brother, chances are good he won’t be alone, and I doubt he’d want to leave his companions behind. Can’t safely carry that many passengers in your sad little dinghy.”

  So she’d been outmaneuvered, and she could admit she wasn’t really sorry about that. The Grindylow was an elegant and lovely lady, and sailing with Gavin and Luc would be exponentially instructive. The plan was to sail from Beaver Island west towards the northern tip of Wisconsin’s Door peninsula, a finger of land named for the treacherous passage into Green Bay. They wouldn’t have to pass through the Porte des Morts – Death’s Door – but the area had claimed hundreds of ships over the years with its notoriously unpredictable conditions. From there, they would sail south, keeping the Wisconsin shoreline in sight and harboring each night until they reached Milwaukee’s McKinley Marina. Both Gavin and Luc were familiar with the marina from the lake side, and Cass knew the area from the shore, thanks to her time on Milwaukee’s streets. With reasonably favorable conditions and the option to motor sail when necessary, they were anticipating a four or five-day trip.

  Once there, the plan got more seat-of-the pants. Pewaukee lay about 20 miles inland from Milwaukee, and they intended to walk it. Again, conditions were everything. They could make it in a single grueling day if nothing went wrong and no detours were necessary. Cass figured on at least a full day to rest up when they reached her home – time enough to take care of her parents’ remains if possible, and to leave a message for Jack – before they turned around and did it all in reverse.

  And then, life had intervened.

  Just two days before their planned departure, Maddie, Gavin’s wife, had fainted dead away in the midst of preparing dinner for her family. When she’d come to, she’d blamed the episode on the mysterious fatigue that had gripped her the last few weeks, insisting she felt fine. But the next morning, according to Luc’s account, she’d eaten three bites of scrambled eggs, then sprinted for the door, vomiting up her breakfast on the kitchen herbs she grew just off her back porch. Luc’s face had been the deep, rich red of mortification as he told the story at Cass and Veda’s kitchen table later that same day.

  “She’s pregnant.” He closed his eyes, and shook his head. “Dad ran – and I really do mean ran, I think he’s lost his mind – into town and traded for a pregnancy test, so you know everyone on the island knows. Mom keeps giggling, then crying, then giggling again. She and my dad – God, it’s just awful.” His voice alternated between a simpering falsetto and a rumbling bass as he imitated his parents. “’I told you to get snipped! Didn’t I tell you to get snipped?’ Then he says, ‘You said you counted the days – how did this happen?’ and then she laughs and says, ‘How? Are you really asking me how this happened?’” Luc shuddered. “It’s just so wrong.”

  Cass had left Luc drinking one of Veda’s “restorative” teas and had gone over to see the Nolettes. Happily, she hadn’t needed all the a
rguments she’d stacked up as she had walked: Gavin wasn’t willing to leave Maddie under the circumstances. When Cass had said she’d just go back to her original plan and sail her ugly little boat solo on the course they’d planned, Gavin and Maddie had exchanged glances.

  “We thought you might say that, but before you decide, you should talk it over with Luc,” Maddie had said. “Solo trips are never smart if you have an alternative. If he still wants to go, he has our blessing.” Then, she had raised an eyebrow at Cass. All four of the Nolettes were exceptionally adept at reading the emotions of others, with Maddie and Luc being the most sensitive. “It can be hard for a young woman to accept help, especially when she’s used to making her own way. Harder than just doing it alone. Luc is as steady and reliable as they come, and he has sailed farther than what you’re planning, many times. His instinct is to help people, which makes me very proud. Accepting his help is a gift to him and a lesson for you, I think.”

  Which was how Cass found herself on the deck of the Grindylow as they approached McKinley Marina. Luc started the motor, the low, churning rumble a startling, man-made sound after four days of snapping sails and lapping water. He kept the boat pointed into the wind while Cass got busy lowering both the jib and the mainsail. As they had traveled down the coast, they had switched back and forth between helm and crew, so Cass could learn both sets of responsibilities. Luc never stopped teaching, and as he had said, over and over, she needed to know how to make decisions, not just obey orders. For now, though, she was grateful beyond words that she’d taken his mother’s advice and that he was the one calling the shots.

  They rounded the breakwater and entered the mouth of the harbor with Cass perched on the bow of the boat watching for obstacles. Like everywhere else they’d stopped, the marina appeared to be deserted, and Cass looked over her shoulder to see if Luc was picking anything up she should know about. Under her tutelage, he’d learned to expand his intuitive capabilities. He always knew when someone was watching now, and he was getting better by the day at discerning what that person’s emotions or intentions were. In answer to her silent question, Luc shrugged.