Children of Eternity Omnibus

by P. T. Dilloway

  Reverend Crane knelt down on the dirt. “Lord, you have guided me here to do your work, to establish your kingdom here on earth. I beseech you now in this moment of darkness to light my way. Show me what I must do to rid your country of these foul heathens.”

  The tent flaps burst open and the reverend opened his eyes to find a red-haired girl clinging to him. “Reverend, please, you must help me. Something terrible’s happened and I don’t know who else to turn to. You have to help me. Please.”

  “Peace, my child. What is troubling you?”

  The girl wiped at her eyes with the hem of a dress several sizes too large for her. “I was in the meadow and I fell asleep and when I woke up this boy—the stowaway—was going by and so I followed him into the woods and he went into this cave and there was this pool of water in there and I looked into it and I saw my reflection, but it wasn’t my reflection. It was me as a little girl and a toddler and a baby and when I touched the water there was this glow and I became a little girl again. Mrs. Gooddell is going to be so angry with me if I go back like this. There has to be something you can do for me to change me back. Please, Reverend, I know you can do it because you’re the smartest, most wonderful man I know. God has to listen to you if you ask him to change me back. I know he will.”

  Reverend Crane tilted the girl’s face up. He recognized her now as Mr. Gooddell’s servant. Yes, he remembered her now sitting in the back pew, looking away if his gaze ever met hers. But she had been a girl of twelve or thirteen years. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what happened to you. Tell me again very slowly, my child.”

  She explained again about the pool of water, the reflections of her younger selves, and the glow that overcame her when she touched the water. She flapped the loose folds of her dress for emphasis. “You see what it’s done to me? I don’t know what else to do, Reverend. I don’t want to be a little girl again. Can’t God change me back?”

  “Of course He can, my child, if that is His will. However, I believe this has happened to you so that you might serve a greater purpose. He has sent you to me to show me how we can save our community from the savage influence.”

  “He did?”

  “Yes, my child. You are the savior of our people. Through you I will create His kingdom here on earth. A kingdom that will serve His will until the end of time.” He patted the girl’s head. “And it is all because of you.”

  “Oh Reverend, that is so wonderful, but if He wanted me this way to show you, can’t He change me back now? It’s so strange to be little on the outside and yet inside I still feel like myself. I don’t like it one bit. Can’t you ask God to change me back now that He’s done with me?”

  “Of course I will. You and I will pray together later to ask Him. In the meantime, you must show me to this pool. There is much we have to do.”

  He took the girl’s hand and let her lead him through the dark forest. Along the way, a rudimentary plan formed in his mind. This water, if it worked as the girl said, could be used as a powerful weapon to destroy the savages and anyone else who stood in the reverend’s way.

  She ushered him into a cave with heathen symbols all along the walls and a great pit sunk in the middle. She stayed back a few paces of the water while he went to the edge. “You best be careful, Reverend. That water is dangerous.”

  Reverend Crane looked down into the glowing water and just as the girl had said, he saw reflections of himself from a grown man to an infant. “Amazing,” he said. He looked up then at the ceiling to thank God for showing him the way.

  Chapter 22: New Plans

  As Molly stacked the last of the pans, she heard Joey erupt into a sneezing fit. He threw down the broom and doubled over. Molly rushed over to his side, patting him on the back. “Joey, what’s wrong dear?”

  “Dust,” he said between sneezes. She led him out of the cabin, sitting him down on a log. He continued to sneeze, each one punctuated by a wheeze as he struggled to breathe. When she saw the tips of his ears turning blue, she looked about her for help, but there was no one. Veronica and David had gone off and the rest were little children with no memories. God, please help him, she thought.

  His sneezing came under control after a few minutes. His breathing returned to normal and the blue faded from his ears. He sagged against her, panting with exhaustion. She stroked his hair and whispered reassurances to him. He really is a delicate child, she thought. Veronica shouldn’t have brought him here.

  “He doesn’t belong with us,” Molly had told her friend. “He’s lived in Seabrooke all his life.”

  “I’m his aunt,” Veronica said. “He belongs with me.”

  “What about his father?”

  “His father hardly sees him as it is. He’ll be much happier with us in our new world. You’ll see.”

  Molly wiped the snot and tears from Joey’s face with her apron. No, little Joey was not happier here. And Samantha, Prudence, and Wendell had been so unhappy they ran away from their new home. They ran away from her. It’s my fault, Molly thought. She had thought her talk with Samantha had smoothed everything over, but clearly she had failed.

  She touched the bruise over her left eye. Veronica had been right to hit her for her incompetence. When Veronica had proposed her plan to remake Eternity into a wondrous new paradise, Molly thought she could do as well with the children as Samantha or Rebecca. I’m a failure, she thought.

  Joey looked up at her and said, “Do you remember Mommy?”

  “No, dear, I never met her.”

  “What about Aunt Veronica?”

  “Oh yes, she knew your mother. They’re sisters of a sort.”

  “Really? Will she tell me about Mommy if I ask?”

  “I don’t see why not. We’ll ask her when she gets back.”

  “Do you think she’ll find Samantha and the others?”

  “Of course she will, dear. Why, I’m sure they’re all coming home right now. That’s why we’ve got to get the house nice and clean for them.”

  “Why did Aunt Veronica hit Samantha last night?”

  “Sometimes people do things they shouldn’t when they get angry. Your aunt is very sorry about hitting Samantha.”

  “Is she sorry for hitting you too?”

  Molly touched the bruise on her face. “Of course she is, dear. Your aunt and I love each other very much. But sometimes even people who care about each other have quarrels. Your aunt is not a bad person. She’s trying very hard to make this work for all of us.”

  A sudden tidal wave of tears soaked Joey’s face. “What’s wrong with me?” he asked. “Why won’t anyone stay with me? First Mommy and now Samantha.”

  “Oh, no, dear, don’t cry. You’re a wonderful little boy. The sweetest young man I’ve ever known. What happened with your mother and Samantha had nothing to do with you.”

  “But why did they leave?”

  “I don’t know, dear. I don’t know.” She rocked him back and forth in her lap until he stopped crying. As she considered whether it was safe to take him back inside, she heard something crashing through the underbrush nearby.

  Veronica emerged from the bushes, her face white as a corpse. Sweat covered her body and her eyes shone as though with fever. Before Molly could say anything, Veronica snatched Joey away from her, lifting him into the air. “Tell me how to get rid of it!” she said.

  “Get rid of what?” he asked.

  “The algae. You know how. I know you do. You’re the fucking Einstein of the family,” she said.

  “What’s algae?” he said.

  She threw him to the ground, bashing his head against the log. “Veronica, what’s going on? Where’s David? Did you find the children?”

  “David is dead!” Veronica said. She reached up to snap off a tree limb. She wielded it in her hand like a club, waving it under Joey’s nose. “Maybe this will jog your memory.”

  “Dead? How? Veronica, please, what’s going on?”

  “That fucking algae killed him. I don’t know how.
It leapt right out of the fountain and burned him up. He’s nothing but ashes now.”

  “Oh my God. That’s terrible. And the children?”

  “I don’t know.” She poked Joey’s cheek with the stick. He sniffled, but didn’t move. “This little shit is going to tell me how to get rid of it even if I have to break open his fucking head and scoop the answer out.”

  As she raised her arm to strike, Molly grabbed her wrist. “Veronica, please, calm down. Joey doesn’t know. He’s just a little boy. He doesn’t know anything.”

  Veronica shook Molly’s hand away, pointing the stick at her. “He knows. It’s in that little head of his somewhere. I’m going to beat it out of him.”

  “No!” Molly grabbed Veronica’s wrist again. “There has to be another way. Let me work with him. I’ll get him to remember.” As Molly spoke, Joey pressed himself against her although she wasn’t any taller than him.

  Veronica stared at them a moment and then lowered the stick. “He seems to have taken a liking to you. Fine, take him out to Grandpa’s hut and see if you can get him to remember.” She jabbed the stick into Molly’s chest. “If he can’t, then I’ll throw both of you in there myself.”

  After Veronica stomped away, Joey emerged from Molly’s side. “Why is she mad at me?” he asked.

  “She’s not mad at you. She’s mad about something else.”

  “What does she mean about me remembering?”

  Molly tousled Joey’s hair. “There’s a lot I have to tell you, dear. For now, we have to go inside and pack. We’re going to stay in the hut Veronica’s grandpa built out in the forest.”

  “Is Aunt Veronica coming too?”

  “No, dear, she’s not coming. It’ll be just the two of us.”

  “Good,” he said. “She’s mean.”

  “Now Joey, you shouldn’t say such things about your aunt.”

  “I don’t care. She is mean. I hate her.”

  “I know you don’t mean that. Let’s go inside and get ready.” As Molly led Joey inside, she couldn’t help shivering at the thought of Veronica’s rage. She’s upset, Molly thought. Once she has time to think, then she’ll be fine. In the meantime, it would be better for her and Joey out at Mr. Pryde’s hut, where they could be alone to work on reviving his memory. She only hoped they could find a solution before Veronica grew impatient. Molly had little doubt her friend would carry out her threat.

  Chapter 23: Seabrooke

  The plane landed at the Bangor airport. Samantha convinced her young pilot to declare an emergency—thus explaining the lack of a flight plan—with a French kiss that almost created a real emergency. “You’ve been very helpful,” she said after they touched down. “You might have saved some lives.”

  “Really? Since we’re here, maybe we could—”

  She shut him up with another French kiss. As she kissed the downy-faced pilot, she tried not to think of Andre. Her wonderful, beautiful Andre who had disappeared. She would give anything to kiss him again and to tell him how much she loved him. “Holy shit,” the pilot said. “Are you sure—”

  “It’s been fun,” she said. She left him to deal with the aviation officials who would demand information to log the proper reports. Even if he mentioned a mysterious woman asking him to fly her to New Hampshire and Maine, he didn’t know her name or her ultimate destination. If the Bureau’s computers flagged his report, they still wouldn’t be able to find her for some time. By then it would all be over.

  She searched the terminals in the Bangor airport for any friends from the Bureau as well as Veronica. A man skulking about a bathroom aroused her suspicion until a young boy ran into his arms. She spotted a woman with dark skin and wild hair near a newsstand only for the woman to turn around with a full beard. “I’m losing it,” she said aloud.

  She stopped at a coffee shop to get the largest cappuccino possible. The combination of caffeine and sugar would give her a much-needed jolt since she hadn’t slept since waking up in Savannah over two days ago. As she gulped down the coffee, she plotted her next move.

  Veronica could have already gotten ahead of her, depending on her method of travel. There wasn’t any point waiting around the airport on the chance Veronica might happen by. Better to head for Veronica’s ultimate destination and hope to beat her there. From there, she didn’t know.

  She couldn’t rent a car, not with her own identification and credit card. The Bureau would already have frozen her credit cards and their computers would have no problem tracking down a reservation in her own name, even out in Bangor. As for stealing a car, she didn’t want to risk drawing that kind of attention onto herself. Hitchhiking would be too slow and a cab too expensive with her limited financial resources.

  She had another idea. She scanned the terminal for a woman of her approximate age and coloring. After finding a target, she stalked the woman to the baggage claim. She picked a suitcase off one of the conveyor belts at random, the kind with the telescoping handle and wheels.

  With the suitcase dragging along next to her, she approached the woman standing by another conveyor belt. The suitcase collided with the unsuspecting woman, almost knocking her to the floor. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” Samantha said. “These darned things are so hard to manage sometimes.”

  “I know what you mean,” the woman said. They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Samantha walked off with the woman’s wallet. LaShondra Williams from Detroit according to her license. Samantha looked back over her shoulder, but so far LaShondra hadn’t noticed the missing wallet.

  Samantha left the suitcase by the baggage claim before hurrying to the nearest rental counter. The clerk hardly scrutinized her stolen driver’s license and credit card. As the clerk processed the transaction, chattering nonstop about the weather and the Red Sox, Samantha waited for a security guard to approach her. “You’re all set, Miss Williams,” the clerk said.

  “Thank you,” Samantha said. She took the keys for a Pontiac Grand Prix—a Corvette or Porsche would have been better for her purposes, but she supposed it would do—and headed for the door. Along the way she stopped a security guard and produced Miss Williams’s wallet, complete with the cash inside so as not to arouse suspicion. “I found this on the bathroom floor,” she said. “Can you make sure she gets it back?”

  “Of course, ma’am. You’re one of the good ones,” the guard said. Samantha smiled at him, hoping her guilt didn’t show. She hurried off to the car and was soon on her way.

  As she drove, Samantha tried to solve the riddle of Veronica Pryde. A child of abuse and neglect to be sure, but what had driven her to murder? What could have caused that shy girl in kindergarten to become a brutal killer? And what had caused her to focus so much hatred on Samantha, her friend?

  There had to be more to the story, a piece of the puzzle still missing. There was still so much she didn’t remember, so much about herself hidden away somewhere. Thousands of days lost to her: birthdays, holidays, and milestones. Her first crush, first kiss, and first sexual encounter all remained lost. These pieces of her might remain lost forever.

  A car horn warned her she was about to stray into the wrong lane. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on the road. She couldn’t afford to get a traffic ticket now. The road ahead of her blurred for a moment, and then spun ninety degrees. She slapped herself on the cheek to wake up. It’s only been two days, she thought. She must have gone longer than that without sleep before. Back when she was young, not a broken-down recovering alcoholic fresh out of rehab.

  The drinking might explain some of the holes in her memory, but not complete amnesia. She didn’t know how that could have happened. A nervous breakdown in the wake of Fitzgerald’s death maybe. That might explain her crazy dream too. Once she settled things with Veronica then she could lie on a couch to tell a shrink all about it.

  By mid-afternoon she arrived in Seabrooke. Tourists walked along the idyllic Main Street with shopping bags packed full of trinkets. Children frolicked in packs, some
on bikes and others not. The entire place was like a brochure come to life, unaware of the storm blowing in from the west.

  She cruised along Main Street, looking in the various shop windows in case Veronica was already here. Not seeing her quarry, she searched for a place to buy the supplies she needed. She followed the road downhill almost to the docks, stopping at a place called New Beginnings Antiques.

  A bell rang when she opened the door. Inside looked as though someone’s garage had exploded. Old clothes, appliances, books, and knickknacks were spread about the shelves with no organization. In a glass case at the back of the store she found rows of broaches, necklaces, rings, and even war medals. None of these items she needed.

  “Can I help you?” a woman called out. Samantha turned around to find a woman about her age in a ratty brown sweater and a pair of reading glasses standing behind her.

  “I’m looking for a pair of binoculars,” she said.

  “Binoculars? I think I have some around here. Going to do some sightseeing?”

  “Yes. It really is beautiful up here.”

  “First timer, huh?”

  “You could say that.” She followed the woman around the store, watching her dig through piles of old clothes and mismatched kitchen utensils. Among a bin of hubcaps she pulled out an olive green case.

  Inside the case was a pair of army field glasses dating from before she was born. “World War II?” she asked.

  “Yes. From the estate of Mr. Gray. He was a part of the Normandy invasion.”

  “He probably had these on him,” Samantha said. She looked through the glasses, bringing them into focus so that she could see the distant neon sign of a tavern. “These should work. How much do you want for them?”