by Michael Rigg
The breakout took nine minutes.
The Rinks were a mile away from the Pentagon when the pursuing agents caught up with them. There was an exchange of dialogue on an empty country road that Pandora barely remembers. It ended with something like, "Very well. You can keep her." Then the man speaking pointed a gun at Pandora and pulled the trigger. Jacqueline dove in front of her daughter to protect her and was instantly killed. As a bullet tore through her father's arm next, Pandora screamed and crossed her fingers, "STOP!"
The agents froze in thick layers of ice. They died of hypothermia in mid-July on the Virginia road before their cocoons melted. She didn't mean to kill them, just stop them. Whether or not the deaths would add life to her own remained to be seen.
Wilco and Pandora spent the next six years in hiding. He taught his daughter how to fly a plane and she quickly surpassed him as a skilled pilot. He taught her how to defend herself, how to use various weapons, and with the aid of Captain Landry, got Pandora added to the ranks within the Confederate Air Cavalry as one of their aces. Agents of Glass & Christian—and independent bounty hunters with the Empire—continued to pursue Wilco and Pandora, which is why they took up residence in Philadelphia. The northern state gave them what they needed: a place to hide tucked within an Imperial state, right under the noses of the Empire itself.
Remembering the day her mother was gunned down trying to shield her, Pandora looked up, her beautiful olive skin creased and wet with tears. "They shot her down, Daddy, right in front of me."
"She died helping to save you, helping me to save you. I miss her too, little doe."
Pandora sniffed back her tears and met his eyes. In a more even tone, only slightly cracked with emotion, she said, "And now you know why I had to bring you back. I had to save you... because I couldn't save her."
Wilco held his daughter tight and rocked slightly. "I love you, Pandy."
"I hate that name."
"I know, sweetie. I know."
After the tears dried up, it was Pandora's turn to question her father about all that transpired back at the Tesla Bridge, and about his arrest. He told her about Perek Grubbs and who he worked for, his link to Frederick Denk and the attack at the Tesla Bridge, and she told him about the Thorne & Wolfe men she gunned down, and the ghoul who took Grubbs away. While she spoke, Wilco stared into space. Sometimes his lips moved but no sound came out. A few times he whimpered to himself.
He sat on the Greyhound bench. Pandora knelt next to him. "Daddy? ...Wilco?"
He broke out of another trance and looked at her.
"What did you see? When you were ...cold? What did you see?"
Wilco swallowed and said, "I know what happened to Alice."
Remembering the spots on her back and the cold chill of recognition that crawled up her spine, Pandora said, "So do I. We have to warn Bryce."
The dwarf shook his head. "No. We have to stop that ghoul."
Pandora frowned. "The ghoul? Why? I mean besides me wanting to split his skull like he split yours, what does he have to do with this?"
He leveled his eyes at her. "Think. Why would a ghoul take Perek Grubbs, the Acquisitions Officer of Thorne & Wolfe?"
"Ransom?"
Wilco closed one eye to a crease. "What would a ghoul want with money?"
"What would a ghoul want with property acquisition?" Pandora shrugged at her own question. "They've only been known to come out and take people. Why...?" Then it hit her. "But how would he know about Alice? I sensed something, but I figured it was just because she was a stranger."
Wilco matched her shrug. "The same way you would know? Mind reading, ESP? Perhaps he could smell her importance or sense the mark? Perhaps this particular ghoul was lying in wait for someone like her."
Pandora slumped and chewed her lower lip. "I never felt an aura from her." She shook her head. "And I didn't sense the mark myself until I saw it."
"Maybe she doesn't have an aura. Maybe she's different."
She nodded. "That alone would attract a ghoul. Maybe he'd sensed something odd about her, even before I saw the spots on her back."
"He'll want her, and what she represents."
Pandora looked at her father. "We have to stop 'im."
Wilco smiled. "Still my girl. I'll fire up the Canary."
She kissed his fuzzy cheek. "I'll get my bag." Jumping to her feet, she took two long strides over piles of oily rags to the collections of duffels and satchels under the dinette table.
Wilco stood with a grunt. "Hey."
Pandora turned as she snatched up a tool bag from the floor. It was a dark gray bag with a skull and crossbones on the flap.
He pointed to her feet. "My boots?"
Pandora pouted and her shoulders slumped. "Mine don't fit no more."
"We'll get ya some proper ones..." He snickered under his breath, "Bigfoot."
"Hey. I'm twenty-seven. I'm not deaf."
Pandora smiled. It felt good to hear her father's laugh again.
CHAPTER 15, “Addy”
By the time we arrived at Seven Orchards, the sun was up and a slight humid breeze pushed the moist air toward the east.
Wide iron gates swung open. An arch of tall letters that read "Landry's 7 Orchards ~ est. 1809" stretched across the gates. The estate was phenomenal and exactly what I'd expected. A half-mile long cobblestone drive stretched toward an enormous white plantation house, tall white pillars glowed in the morning sunlight and birds flew back and forth between the fourteen gigantic oaks flanking the drive.
Far off to the right and left were colorful fields of apple orchards and orange groves. The air smelled sweet, like damp maple. "The sugar cane," Bryce told me over his shoulder as he noticed me sniffing the air. He pointed beyond the east side of the house toward the acres, I supposed, that grew the cane.
Lydia McFerran, fanning herself next to Bryce, asked him loud enough for me to hear, "Does the poor dear have any proper clothing?"
The way she said 'proper' made me feel dirtier than I already was.
"I would expect Adeline has something she can wear. They are about the same size."
"Oh, Bryce, you are a caution," Lydia said, gently slapping his arm with the collapsed fan before flipping it open to resume cooling herself. "You have no sense for what a woman should wear, and I dare say, neither does your tomboy of a sister."
"She'll be cared for by and by," Bryce smiled at his fiancee then over his shoulder toward me. I half-smiled back. To Lydia, he said, "We'll have Doc Richards by to take a look at her this afternoon."
This was news to me. When had he planned that? Just now? I suddenly felt like a plantation horse, just purchased at the county fair, and the vet was on his way over to check my teeth. "Doctor?" I asked as the motorized carriage began the wide turn around the enormous fountain in front of the estate.
"Doc Richards is an old friend of the family, Alice, only a few miles west o' here. Maybe he can help." He started out condescending but finished with a raised eyebrow and softened tone, almost like he didn't realize until his second sentence that he was talking to someone with whom he'd just spent a hair-raising night.
My hand moved to my chest. I felt the locket underneath. Someone to whom he'd bestowed a charm.
And charmed.
I looked away, nodding politely, but letting my thoughts drift. I thought about the spots scarred into my back, Pandora's reaction to them and her warning glare. I dare not say anything, and until I found out more myself, I didn't want any doctor poking my back and discovering them. I'd much rather talk to the girl pilot about them, the witch who seemed to know more than anyone at this point.
I didn't think seeing Pandora again any time soon would be a viable option, though. I wondered if I could call her. Maybe I
'll pose that to Bryce later when we've had a chance to talk. Just as I wondered if Lydia McFerran lived here at Seven Orchards with her fiancee, she spoke.
"Bryce, my dear, I'll not trifle you with my presence this mornin'. I'm sure you'll have much to discuss with your father."
"You didn't tell him what I told ya, did you, Lydia?," he said, his smile drooping as he undoubtedly recollected the contracts he sacrificed to rescue me. When had he talked to her? Must have been during the night while I was asleep on the SkyTrain. Well, of course she's important enough to wake up during the night. Of course she's important enough to call. She's his fiancee, after all.
Ignoring the question, she smiled curtly. "Y'all will be needin' your rest, and your young Alice will be needin' some care as well. You'll have to find out what monster ate her memories and get her back to her husband.”
“I'm not married,” I blurted, but even as I said it I frowned. I wondered if I was. And I wondered why I said it if for nothing more than to watch Bryce's profile blush and Lydia McFerran's penetrating green eyes catch him almost accusingly.
“Did Bryce tell you that he was married?” Lydia asked, her eyes still on him. I watched as Bryce winced slightly and rolled his neck. I could almost see the 'here we go again' expression from his profile.
“He didn't have to,” I sad with a sweet grin. “It was obvious to me that he was a caring man, generous, and above all an officer and a gentleman.”
That seemed to warm the ice in Lydia's eyes. She flashed a toothy smile at Bryce as she possessively ran her fingers across his back. I couldn't see Bryce's expression because he turned toward the two butlers in the front of the carriage.
The skinny man slowed the carriage and Lucien hopped out to open the doors for us. Bryce said, "Well, I do hope you'll be stopping by for dinner, Lydia."
"Why of course, Captain Landry. I wouldn't miss any of Alice's revelations for the world."
Bryce smiled at her and leaned in for a kiss as I quickly turned and hopped out of the carriage as Lucien opened my door. "Until then, my dear," Bryce smiled.
Several steps led up to the main doors of the estate, tucked back from the wide front porch. It was actually more of a wide landing than a porch, set back deep from the pillars and decorated with pairs of wicker lounge chairs and round tables, all glowing white and accented by brass and sliver. A tall man appeared at the front door. He had Bryce's face, the strong cheekbones and wide jaw, but his hair was dark brown and slightly shorter than Bryce's. His upper lip was covered by a bushy mustache. I assumed this was Clayton, Bryce's older brother. He wasn't nearly old enough to be Bryce's father, though the frown of displeasure on his face told me the Captain's homecoming wouldn't be a welcome one. Clayton wore tight beige riding pants and russet boots, and a white gusseted shirt and a tan vest that matched his pants.
"Alice." I turned back toward Lydia's voice. Bryce had already said his farewells and was climbing the steps toward his brother. His fiancee remained in the carriage. Lucien stood by me with his fingers at my elbow. "Yes, Miss McFerran?"
"Well, for starters, dear, please call me Lydia. If you choose to call me Lady—or Miss—McFerran, by the saints' eyes I will ignore you." Her smile, I had to admit, was disarming, though predatory.
"Yes, Lydia."
"Better." She smiled and beckoned me closer. In a low whisper, she said, "If you need anything while you're here, my dear. If there is anything the Landrys cannot provide you, simply let Lucien know. He will know how to contact me."
I glanced to Lucien who peered at us over the top of his spectacles. The portly valet nodded slightly and touched the brim of his bowler.
I held Lydia's eyes. "Thank you for the offer, Lydia. I'll keep it in mind."
"See that you do, my dear. I may not look like more than a spoon-fed lady who never lifted a finger to flip a penny, but I guarantee you that no book can be judged by its cover."
I nodded and smiled, trying very hard to appear sincere.
Lydia started to say something else, but stopped. She waved me off and pointed up the steps. "I see Clayton has come to wish his brother home. You should run off and meet the family." Lydia looked up, past me, and held someone's eyes. I turned and saw Clayton smile for the first time and slightly bow his head.
"Home, Roger," Lydia told the driver. He revved the chuttering engine of the carriage and it started to roll away. I waved good-bye to Lady McFerran before joining Lucien and climbing the stairs toward the brothers.
When I looked up, Clayton Landry was glaring at me like I was an unwanted solicitor. I tensed and stopped half-way up the steps.
His voice, just as southern-seasoned as Bryce's but slightly deeper, said, "This Property is the reason you failed in the simplest possible duty, Captain?" He held his arms out to the side and let them drop. "You only had to sign papers. Oh, why daddy would send you instead of me is beyond my reckoning."
"She's not Property," Bryce challenged, standing toe-to-toe with his brother, his eyes blazing. "Now you strike your tongue or I'll strike it for you."
Clayton made me feel muddy, the way his eyes swept me from top to toes, lingering here and there at my baggy pirate shirt, flat ponytailed hair and dirty canvas shoes. I held out my hand to him despite his first impression and offered a smile as I took another step closer. "They call me Alice, Mr. Landry. I presume you're Clay—"
He ignored my hand and poked a finger at Bryce's chest. "It's not just the family you disgraced. You disgraced the entire Confederacy!"
I took a step back down.
Clayton shouted at Bryce's face, “You don't have the slightest clue what you've destroyed, do you baby brother? Those contracts were the life blood of our future, Bryce—and not only that, they were the key to ending war. All wars. Forever!”
My eyes widened slightly. I had only heard the whispers between Bryce and Lucien up until this point. I assumed my sudden and mysterious appearance pulled them away from something important, but the way Clayton's cheeks burned and spittle shot from his lips... Dear God, what have I caused?
Bryce glanced in my direction, his eyes apologetic. He was about to say something when a yell—more like an angry bellow—echoed inside the house. The front doors burst out, clattering on their hinges, and a stout thin-bearded man stormed out. His hair, white and wispy flew out around his ears like cottony horns. His face was red from sunburn as well as fury. A rolled newspaper was in his right hand, a fist in his left, both swung as he stomped toward Bryce. "You ignorant fool!" He shouted. His voice actually echoed off the surrounding orchards.
"Daddy, if you will allow me to—" Bryce began, but there wasn't anything he could say.
As I watched, Lucien stepped up and held me back with this hands on my upper arms, Lord Jefferson Landry pounced on his youngest son as I looked on in shock. Pushing Clayton aside with a sweeping hand, Landry laid into Bryce with the newspaper, swatting so hard Bryce stumbled back. A punch with his other hand sent the Captain sprawling. He landed on his rump on the porch, his right arm up to defend against the blows. Lord Landry whipped away like an angry drunk whipping a dog for messing the rug—with the savagery of someone trying to kill the animal. I gasped and took a step forward, but Lucien held me back tightly.
With each blow, Landry shouted: "You - God - Damn - Fool - You - De - stroyed - Us - All!" Then he switched from the newspaper to his fist.
As this happened, faster than I could react even if I knew what to say, a young woman ran onto the porch from the far side of the house. She wore faded dungarees and a gusseted shirt, tails out and flapping around her narrow hips. She was barefoot, and probably in her mid 20s. Her hair was dark and pulled back into a loose bun, and sweat made her face shiny. Her feet thumped hard on the white wooden porch as she sprinted toward the scene. Clayton turned an
d held out his hands to stop her.
"Daddy!" She cried. "Daddy, you stop that this instant!"
Clayton said, "Adel, you stay out of this! Go back to your animals!"
"You shut up!"
Jefferson Landry continued, "Why - did - I - raise - such - a - damn—"
"Daddy!" Adeline's voice was shrill and, with the added noise from the beating, would surely wake the rest of the household if not the neighbors miles away.
My latest gasp became a deep breath. Then: "STOP!"
I had no idea where my shout came from, and I couldn't say what took me so long to finally get it out. But five pairs of eyes all turned on me. Clayton lowered his hands. Adeline looked at me as if I were an intruding ghost. Bryce looked at me red with embarrassment, Lucien let go of me and stepped back as if afraid I'd explode, and Lord Landry stopped beating his son and glared at me, sweat pouring down his bulbous nose and bushy raised eyebrows.
His glare at me didn't last long. He turned immediately to Lucien and said, "Lucien Howard, you are fired! Gather your things now and leave!"
"You can't do that!" I shouted. I glanced to Lucien who looked like he'd been shot.
Adeline's eyes grew wide as she looked between me and her father. A slight smile curled on her lips as she shifted her weight back on a hip. Either she was glad to see someone standing up to her father or she knew she was about to be entertained by Lord Landry's inevitable attack against me. Clayton smirked but his eyes also widened.
"Alice, no," Bryce said hoarsely. But it was too late.
Lord Landry stomped down the steps toward Lucien and I. I held my ground, standing tall as I dared, but shivering with shock of the sheer size of the man as he drew closer. I sensed Lucien retreating a few steps, his head low.
