“This is all very nice, but I just want to check in,” Samantha finally interrupted.
“Why didn’t you say so in the first place? You really should not play games with a woman of my advanced years. Come along then.” Samantha followed her to an office with a stately wooden desk and a glossy wooden board with golden keys hanging from individual hooks. The old woman studied the board a moment and then took down a key. From a desk drawer she took out a ledger with gold-trimmed pages. “Sign your name here, my dear.”
Samantha considered leaving a fake name, but she doubted the Bureau would think to look for her here. With a shaking hand she signed her name, taking up two lines in the ledger. The old woman frowned at this, but then pressed the key into Samantha’s hand. “Your room is down the hall, last door on the left. If you need anything, just give a ring.”
“Sure thing, but like I said, I won’t be any trouble.”
Before going to her room, she went out to the car. Miss Brigham wrung her hands in the driver’s seat, her face on the verge of tears. “I got us a room,” Samantha said. “Let’s go.”
She led Miss Brigham inside. Miss Brigham gasped, a hand digging into Samantha’s arm. “Oh my, this is extraordinary. It’s like a palace. I haven’t seen anything so lovely since the reverend and I stayed at this lovely inn back in 1883, I think—”
“I’m sure,” Samantha said. She opened the door to the room and headed right for the queen-sized bed. Without bothering to take off her shoes or jacket, she threw herself onto the bed. Through the pillows, she said, “See you in the morning.” Then she allowed herself to succumb to sleep.
Chapter 30: The Killing Field
Wendell collapsed to the ground and didn’t get back up. “I can’t go any farther,” he said. “You go on ahead.”
“I’m not going to leave you out here,” Prudence said. She swung Wendell onto her shoulders, surprised by how little he weighed. She pressed on with his legs wrapped around her neck.
She chugged on deeper into the forest, calling Rodney’s name once again. They’d been searching the woods for what seemed like hours now without any sign of Rodney and his party. We’re not going to find him, she thought. We’re too late.
As she continued to run, she tried to think of why Reverend Crane wanted to kill her husband. Even with her knowledge about the future, she didn’t know. There was a gap in her and Wendell’s memories of over three hundred years. Somewhere in that gap had to be a memory of what happened to Rodney. Try as she might, she couldn’t remember anything. She only knew that in three hundred fifty years when Samantha arrived in Eternity, no one named Rodney existed.
“Why is he doing this?” she asked.
“He wants to keep us under his thumb,” Wendell said. “What better way than to make us children dependent on him?”
“But he’s a man of God. How can he do this?”
“No one is incorruptible, not even a reverend.”
Prudence thought back to her conversation with Reverend Crane in the church. He had persuaded her to come to the New World so that he could use Rodney’s fortune to mount the expedition. “This is my fault,” she said.
“It’s not,” Wendell said.
“But it is. I’m the one who told Rodney to come here. Without his money the Primrose never would have left port.”
Wendell touched her hair, reminding her both of nights spent with him in Seabrooke and with Rodney in Wessenshire. Should Rodney survive and they stop Reverend Crane, she didn’t know what to do about Wendell. She couldn’t love him like in the future and the thought of raising him as her own child with Rodney gave her a cold shiver. “He would have found another way,” Wendell said. “Nothing would have stopped him.”
“But now we have to,” she said. She continued on in silence, turning left and right at random in the hopes of finding some sign of Rodney. How far could they have gotten already? She considered asking Wendell, but heard his soft breathing in her ear; he had fallen asleep.
She grimaced at the thought of ending up like him, a helpless child, for the next three centuries. Three centuries without ever knowing a love like she had with Rodney. Three centuries without ever having children of her own. A dark, lonely, miserable three centuries loomed ahead of her.
She stopped at a strip of white cloth dangling from a branch at her waist. This had to be from someone in Rodney’s party; savages didn’t have cloth like this. Might it have come from an accident or part of a battle? She quickened her pace and called Rodney’s name again.
Along the path she found an empty shoe and then a pair of pants. One leg of the pants was sliced open and dotted with blood. “Oh no,” she said.
“What is it?” Wendell asked, his voice heavy with sleep.
“They’ve been through here,” she said. She held the pants up for him to see. “We’re too late.”
“There might still be time. Come on.” Wendell slid off Prudence’s shoulders and dashed ahead into a clearing. Even before he fell to his knees she sensed disaster waiting.
“No,” she said. “It can’t be.”
The bodies of five young boys dotted the clearing. None of the boys could be much older than Wendell, their clothes ballooning around them and their heavy rucksacks lying useless nearby. Someone had butchered them to the extent Prudence couldn’t see their faces without wiping blood away with the hem of her dress.
She cleaned one boy’s face after another without seeing her husband’s in their features. “He’s not here,” she said.
“Maybe he got away,” Wendell said.
She looked around and then called softly, “Rodney, it’s Prudence. Don’t be afraid. Come on out if you can hear me.”
She waited for him to answer back or for a rustling in the brush that might reveal him. “Rodney, please come out. Everything will be all right now.”
She paced to the edge of the clearing, still calling for him. She didn’t care if he emerged as himself or a little boy, so long as he was still alive. Nothing else mattered to her.
“Maybe the reverend took him,” Wendell said.
A drop fell onto Prudence’s head despite the fact it hadn’t rained since she’d woke up. She looked up just as a drop of blood splattered onto her face. Another and then another drop splashed onto her face and clothes. She reached up to find the source of the blood and touched a tiny foot.
Her scream brought Wendell running to her side. She collapsed to the ground, unable to look up at the horrible sight of her husband swinging from a branch. The ground muffled her wails of grief as she sobbed for her fallen husband.
Wendell’s hand touched her back. “We should get him down from there,” he said.
Prudence raised her head and nodded, wiping away the tears. “You’re right,” she said. “We can’t leave him like this.”
Wendell scaled the tree, carrying a knife from one of the rucksacks in his mouth. Prudence waited below, her eyes focused on the ground. “Get ready,” Wendell said.
A little boy the same age as the others dropped into her arms. She brushed aside a wave of brown hair sticky with blood to see the prototype of her husband’s face. His eyes were still open, eyes that while smaller were the same as she remembered. This was her husband.
“Oh Rodney,” she said. “This is my fault. I did this to you.” She loosened the belt around his neck and then pressed his small body close. She rocked him in her arms like the baby they would never have now.
Wendell jumped to the ground and then reached up to touch Rodney’s face. “He’s still warm,” Wendell said. “If we get him to the fountain, maybe he can come back. But we have to hurry.”
Prudence ran into the woods towards the cave housing the Fountain of Youth. “We’ll bring you back,” she whispered as she ran. “Then you and I can be together again.”
Something slammed into her from the side. She managed to hold onto Rodney as she fell, turning to land on her back. Pryde looked down on her with a smile. “You’ll be together soon enough,” he
said, drawing his bloodstained knife.
Before he could plunge the blade into Prudence, Wendell burst through the brush and jammed his knife into Pryde’s leg. Pryde howled with rage and swatted at Wendell. “Run!” Wendell called. “Get out of here!”
Prudence got to her feet and ran. She heard Wendell scream and hugged Rodney’s body even closer to her chest. She had to make it now that Wendell had given his own life to save hers and possibly Rodney’s.
At the edge of the forest, she heard a growl from her left. She turned in time to see a pair of yellow eyes and a snout full of sharp teeth aiming for her throat. She ducked, the animal sailing over her head. It still managed to rake its claws across her back. She screamed, but got up and kept going towards the cave. Almost there, she thought.
The beast remained on her heels, drawn by the scent of blood. The animal closed the distance between them, its teeth rending the billowing skirt of her dress. Not now, she thought. Not when I’m so close.
A shot rang out. The animal collapsed on the path, its teeth locked onto her dress. She tore the skirt away and continued to the mouth of the cave. Reverend Crane waited there with a musket in his hands. “You’re just in time, my child,” he said. Then he smashed the butt of the musket into her face. She tumbled back, her husband’s body falling out of her grip. She reached out towards him, passing out with his hand in hers.
Chapter 31: Partners in Crime
Joey awoke in a cave with Aunt Veronica squatting next to him. When he tried to get to his feet, she shoved him down to the ground. “Don’t even think it,” she said.
“What are we doing here?” he asked.
“It’s time you see what’s going on here.” She dragged him by the front of his shirt towards a circle of glowing red light. As they neared the light, he saw it was a pool with symbols all around it. These symbols looked familiar to him, but he couldn’t remember where he’d seen them before.
At the edge of the pool, he looked down into the glowing red light. Clumps of some kind of plants lay on the surface of blood-red water. Reflected in this water he saw not himself, but the faces of little Samantha, Prudence, and Wendell. They were all screaming for help. Joey reached out towards them, his fingers about to graze the surface when Aunt Veronica jerked him back against the wall. “Don’t touch it, idiot,” she said. “Unless you want to die like the others.”
“They aren’t dead,” he said. “They’re in there.”
“They can’t be alive in the water. They’d have drowned a long time ago. You’re seeing things.”
“No I’m not! They really are down there.”
“Fine, maybe they are down there. If you want to help them, then you have to figure out how we can get rid of that algae. I know the answer is somewhere in that little brain of yours. Come on.”
Aunt Veronica led him out of the cave and back into the forest. As they tromped through the woods, Joey tried to think of what he could do to help Samantha and the others. Aunt Veronica said he knew the answer, but how could he? He was only six years old; he could barely read and write.
He thought again of those symbols, trying to remember where he’d seen them before. A dark place. A cave, but not the same as that one. In the cave he found something. He couldn’t remember what, but he knew it held the answer to everything.
They emerged from the forest at the cabin where he, Molly, Samantha, and the twins had stayed for that one night. “Is that where we’re going?” he asked.
“No, it’s time for you to get to work. We aren’t really set up for a laboratory, but I’ve done what I can.” Aunt Veronica dragged him along the path into town. There, in the square where decorations for Samantha’s birthday were still up, they found little Molly.
A trio of boys surrounded her, holding the pink hair ribbon over her head. Whenever she tried to grab it, they raised it higher. “Give it back! It’s mine,” she said.
“Then come and get it, baby,” one of the boys said. She jumped as high as she could, but again they snatched the ribbon away from her. She stamped her foot and began to cry.
“Little baby, little baby,” the boys chanted. They tossed the ribbon to each other while she tried in vain to intercept it. When they got bored with this, they pushed her down into a puddle of mud. Molly sat there, crying and calling for help.
“Shouldn’t we help her?” Joey said.
“Why?” Aunt Veronica said.
“She’s crying. They’re being mean to her.”
“So what? It’s what she deserves. I never should have thought she could handle being in charge of anyone.” Aunt Veronica shook her head at Molly. “She’ll be happier this way in the end. She’s a weakling and she always has been.”
She hauled Joey away, his eyes catching Molly’s for an instant. In them he saw the same gentle soul who’d cared for him ever since he woke up in this terrible place. It’s my fault this happened to her, he thought. If only he could remember whatever they wanted him to remember.
Aunt Veronica opened the door to a bakery and then shoved him to the floor. “This is the best we got. See what you can do. I’ll be back to check on you later.”
As Aunt Veronica opened the door, Molly rushed inside, hugging Aunt Veronica’s waist. “Mama Veronica,” she said. “Some mean boys stole my ribbon and pushed me in the mud.”
Aunt Veronica shoved Molly away. “I’m not your mother. You don’t have a mother. Neither does anyone else here. Now get out of here. You’re getting mud on me.”
“But—”
“Get lost. Go play with your dolls or something.”
Molly ran away in tears. Aunt Veronica turned to Joey and said, “You’d better have something when I get back unless you want to end up like her.” Then she slammed the door shut.
Joey sat in the middle of the bakery for a while, too horrified by what Aunt Veronica had done to Molly to work. He thought back to Aunt Veronica spanking Samantha and later screaming at him. She’s a monster, he thought. Only a monster could do such things to her friends and family.
He went over to the counter, where Veronica had left jars of different chemicals. The names on the labels were so long that he needed five minutes to sound out each one. What am I supposed to do with these? he wondered.
He crawled onto a stool to think. There had to be something he could do to get rid of that algae. If he didn’t, then he would end up a baby like Molly or even worse. Why had Mommy sent him to this awful place?
After hours of thinking and mixing different chemicals, he’d done nothing except make a mess. He hid under the counter at the sound of footsteps approaching the door. The door opened and then he heard Aunt Veronica say, “Well? Any progress?”
He sat under the counter, hoping if he kept silent she might go away. Instead, she came around the corner and then hefted him onto the stool. “I’ll take that as a no,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what to do.”
She slapped him across the face hard enough to knock him off the stool. He lay there crying while she screamed, “You know what to do! Somewhere in there you know what to do! How could someone so smart end up so fucking dumb?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
Aunt Veronica took a flask from her pocket. “I told you the consequences of failure. Now it’s time to take your medicine like a good baby.”
“No!” He scrambled back until he bumped against a wall. Aunt Veronica filled a tablespoon with glowing white water. “That’s how you made Molly little.”
“Yes and it’ll do the same to you.” She approached him with the tablespoon. He stuck out a hand to keep her back, but she swatted it away.
“Wait! I know what to do.”
“Oh really? What?”
“If that water can make people little, can’t it do the same to plants?” he said.
Aunt Veronica stopped and considered this. “You might have a point. Or you could be trying to trick me into using up the last of this.”
“No, I’
m not trying to trick you. Think about it,” he said. “If it works the same on plants it would shrink the algae into nothing.”
Aunt Veronica thought about it for another moment. Finally, she nodded. “All right, we’ll try it.” Then she flicked the tablespoon towards him. The water hit him in the face. For a few seconds his entire body glowed. When it stopped, his clothes felt looser and the room seemed bigger. Aunt Veronica grabbed his shirt and lifted him up. “You’re even wimpier at four than at six,” she said.
“Four? But I helped you. This isn’t fair!”
“Life isn’t fair.” She took him by the ear, dragging him down the road. Although it was almost dark, the other children continued to play in small groups. When a wooden ball landed at Aunt Veronica’s feet, a pair of girls ran forward until they realized whom their ball had landed near. Aunt Veronica kicked the ball to the girls. “Go on and play,” she told them. They skipped away to continue their game.
Aunt Veronica took Joey into a room with shelves packed with food. She unlocked a set of doors leading into the basement, and then carried Joey down. “You can wait here until I get back. If this doesn’t work, I’m going to gut you.”
“Can we come out now?” a little girl asked.
“Please,” another said.
“No girls. Not yet,” Aunt Veronica said. She shoved Joey forward. “This is Joey, your new roommate. Joey, this is Helena and Phyllis. They’re a couple of naughty little girls. You kids play nice.”
Children of Eternity Omnibus Page 78
