Liberty watched him, lost. Nathaniel might have learned the basics with the computer, but she’d never had to.
Becky excused herself, “I’ll be in the kennel if you need me.”
Liberty gave her a quick wave as she left. She released a breath, leaning around to see what Mitch had on the screen. “Okay, what am I looking at?”
“I’ve been working on a little slideshow. It’d have gotten done sooner, but I’ve not had a lot of good days as of late.” He shrugged. “Guess today’s as good as any.”
She patted his leg. “Hey, no problem, seeing how I didn’t know you were doing it anyway. Actually, I don’t think I know what a slideshow even is.”
“This.” He tapped a couple more buttons and a picture appeared of Ellie and Liberty in the canning cellar, a very young Sage playing on the floor at their feet. He turned the laptop a little so Liberty could see better.
“Holy cow, Mitch. I’d forgotten these.” Liberty had some pictures of Sage, thanks to Ellie, but she’d never thought to ask Mitch to look through theirs. There were so many.
How could she have forgotten? The tears flowed freely, her eyes glued to the screen, afraid to blink. She watched and pointed, laughed at a few. Before it was over, Mitch started to talk again.
“Ellie and I, we owe you and Nathaniel so much.”
Liberty looked up from the slideshow, so he pressed a button to pause it.
“Us? We are the ones who are grateful to you for letting us stay here. And allowing us to be part of your lives.” She meant it.
They’d kept to themselves for the most part. She and Nathaniel were self-sufficient in a lot of ways. But, other than Gabriel, Katie, Adrian, and Becky, for almost fourteen years, the Montgomery’s had been all they had.
“I know you appreciate it, but it was never even. We benefited far more than you.”
Liberty raised her eyebrows, “How so? You mean after the accident?”
They’d first met during a snowstorm. She and Nathaniel had been hunkered down in a small cave not too far from Proem, when Mitch and Ellie’s truck lost control on the dirt road.
“You sheltered and gave us life. Gave Kevin life.”
Sheltered, yes. It was a moment she’d never forget. Unconscious and slumped together, their white auras shined out through the windshield like two fallen stars. Or angels. She’d convinced Nathaniel to bring them inside their cave.
But Kevin hadn’t been with them that night. She wondered if the disease had leaked into Mitch’s brain, had burned his memories away like acid.
“Honey, I think you’re confused. Kevin stayed on campus that year. Remember? Only you and Ellie were in the truck.”
He shook his head. He tried to keep a cough inside and sounded like a cat getting ready to hack up a fur ball.
“No, no.” She snagged a tissue off his bedside table and gave it to him. “Here. You let it out. It’s not good to keep stuff inside.”
He did, and after a sip of water he started to talk again. “It’s complicated. Much rather you and Nathaniel are together when it comes time for me to tell it.”
She reminded herself the nurse said he might not make a lot of sense in the last days, so she tried not to let the confusion show on her face.
“That’s fine with me. You rest up and Nathaniel and I will come visit together. Real soon, okay?” Liberty smiled and gave him a gentle hug.
Mitch nodded. “You watch the rest before you go.” He pressed another button.
She feigned giddiness, clapping her hands together. “Yes, I want to see them all. I can’t wait for Nathaniel to see it, too.”
Images passed by. Ellie teaching Liberty to play pool. The two of them sitting together as they shucked corn. Sage wearing a fake mustache. Then one made Liberty pause.
“Hold up, Mitch. Can you go back to the last one?”
The pictures had begun to repeat, anyway. Mitch brought back the final picture of the slideshow.
“Yeah, that’s it. Pause it?”
He did. “What is it?”
Sage looked back from the screen. By the looks of it, the shot hadn’t been taken long before she’d disappeared. And Liberty hadn’t been there.
She pointed at the screen. “When was this?”
Sage leaned one hip against the pool table, arms crossed, a bag or purse of some kind rested on the floor next to her feet. Even the clothes and jewelry weren’t familiar.
A fleeting look of confusion crossed Mitch’s face and then recognition. “Oh, I think that was last fall. Just before…” He waved his hand. “You know.”
She knew. Before they lost her. “Did Ellie take it?”
“I guess so. You know how those two liked to play dress up.”
Huh. Why hadn’t Sage mentioned it? “What’s she wearing?” Liberty motioned toward the screen. “I don’t recognize any of it.”
When Sage had played dress-up as a child, it was usually in heels too big for her, bright red lipstick, and long chiffon gowns from Ellie’s younger days. In this picture she wore a white top and hooded sweater, and what appeared like dark blue jeans tucked into fur-lined boots. The photo was taken from a distance, and the lighting was poor, so Liberty couldn’t begin to count how many, but Sage had on several necklaces, bracelets, and a couple of rings. Her hair was tucked behind one ear, exposing an earring.
She squinted and pointed at the silver hoop dangling from a lobe. “Sage’s ears weren’t pierced, Mitch.”
“No?” He raised his brows, pondered it. “Probably some of those clip earrings Ellie had.”
Liberty nodded. Had to be. But why wasn’t Sage smiling? Liberty traced around the image on the screen. “She looks sort of sad, doesn’t she?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “Ellie probably had her posed for one of those Fancy Shots, like they take at the shopping mall. She always wanted to do that herself.”
Sage did look sort of glamorous, leaning back like she was waiting for a cab, feet crossed at the ankles, face staring somewhere off in the distance, not a care in the world. Just like her dad. Her red hair and milky skin made her look like a model. Their beautiful girl.
Mitch handed her a tissue out of the box. “Here you go, didn’t mean for you to cry.”
She didn’t realize she’d started again. She dabbed her eyes, “Thank you, Mitch. And thank you for the slideshow.” She tapped the screen. “This is my favorite, I think. Would you mind if I had a copy?”
“I’ll have Becky print you off one.”
Liberty nodded, noticed he struggled to keep his eyes open. Knowing how rare a circumstance rest was for him these days, she put the laptop back on the stand, pulled the quilt over his body, and left as he started to snore.
* * *
Liberty played chicken with the sunrise, putting off going home as long as she could. Hopefully Nathaniel’s family would be asleep by the time she returned.
She quietly shut the hatch to the cavern, crept down the corridor, and tiptoed past the darkened guest room. She breathed a little easier seeing their lights out. She wouldn’t have to discuss the proposition anymore. At least until they woke.
As she entered the bedchamber she pulled the heavy velvet curtain closed behind her. A hand lingered on the fabric. Though she loved the softness against her fingers, she wished for the thousandth time for a real door. A wooden one that opened to a room basking in sunlight. Warm rays coming in through four, five, or ten windows. No shades or curtains would cover those windows. She’d have no reason to hide. And wherever she lived, it wouldn’t have a basement.
She closed her eyes and played it out inside her head. Her fairytale dream was of life on the upside. To be fully human with a home, and maybe a little dog she could take for walks on bright, summer mornings. She’d wave at her neighbors and then stop at the mailbox to talk to the mail carrier. They’d talk for ages, until, upon realizing how much time had passed, she’d laugh and excuse herself. Lunches for her husband and daughter wouldn’t prepare themselves af
ter all.
Liberty opened her eyes and let go of the curtain. Were big dreams hereditary?
Nathaniel rolled to face her. “Hey,” he said, and though the lantern wick was set low, she saw he stifled a yawn.
“Hey, yourself.” She took off her robe and laid it over the chair near the doorway. He scooted toward the wall and pulled back the quilt so she could climb in.
She quickly searched his expression for desire, found none, so she relaxed. She felt a little guilty, hoped the relief hadn’t shown in her face.
Lying on her side to face him, she let him cover her up. She nudged his legs with a foot and he opened them to entwine her colder ones with his.
The lines around his eyes and on his forehead stayed even after his smile dimmed. He looked rough, way past tired.
“The air get any clearer after I left?” she asked.
“Eh. You know how chatty Katie can be.”
Liberty pressed her lips together, nodded. She didn’t ask for details. Instead, she told him about the slideshow. She spoke of Mitch and how he hadn’t looked good. At all.
“Katie and Gabe aren’t leaving for a couple more days, but I’ll make a point to stop in tomorrow,” Nathaniel said.
“Good. We’ll go together.” She pondered a moment, then, “Since Gabriel and Katie made the generous offer on behalf of Cutler, did you happen to mention we’d already made new arrangements?”
He shrugged slightly. “Not really.”
She reached out and smoothed the frown lines on his forehead, “Maybe when you see Mitch, you can mention it to him. See if he knows of anything.” Neither she, nor Nathaniel had broached the subject with Mitch yet. They didn’t feel comfortable forcing him to think of their move. His impending death.
“What if I can’t find us anything else?”
Nathaniel had found a cave, not far from where they were now, but it was incredibly sloped and small, and didn’t have water. Their first cave, the one they’d lived in when fate delivered Mitch and Ellie to them, didn’t have any either. And Liberty hated to haul water.
“You think it’s possible you won’t?”
“Anything is possible, Liberty.”
Well, obviously not, or he’d have discovered a livable place not too far from Mitch’s property, with water, where she’d be nearby in case Sage ever turned up. And even if not, she’d be close to her memory.
“What about up north? The mountains? Surely an untouched treasure or two can be found?” Plus, she thought, it’s still only a day, two at the most, from Montgomery Woods.
“Yeah, maybe. But we’re running out of time,” his weary expression made Liberty think his heart wasn’t really in it.
“We’ll stay at the little place across the way if we have to in the meantime, but I doubt it’ll come down to that.” She smiled at him. “You’re the best scout in the world.”
She knew he took his obligations seriously, and admired him for it. He’d taken a hit to his ego when he’d lost Sage. Hadn’t really been the same since.
He ignored the compliment. “I’m not saying it’s going to happen, but I think we should maybe, possibly, consider attending the assembly. Get a feel for things. And, depending on how it goes, think about a move back to Proem.”
Proem, there it was again. She’d never escape it. Every fall, the assembly was attended by colonists from as many as four caverns in the state. Parents with children of age came together for a mixer, of sorts. Like they would have done with a sixteen-year-old Sage. Liberty wasn’t interested. Had no reason to be anymore.
She sat up in bed. “You want to work for Cutler? Are you nuts?”
“I never said that.” Nathaniel sat up and faced her. “But I do want for us to be safe.”
“I won’t be safe at Proem. My sister has it in for me. You work as Council and you’ll end up taking me for a walk. Is that what you want?” She turned her back to him. “I can’t believe you think I’d even consider it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Only hounds get put down.” He caressed her shoulder.
Hounds, the reckless sorts who brought attention to the colony by the chances they took. Them and the unstable.
“Anyway,” Nathaniel continued. “Gabe told me Proem is a lot different now. There are new colonists and many of them are…” He paused. “Forward thinking, like us.”
“Sure, right.” Liberty rolled her eyes. “And then there’s Katie. And, more importantly, Patience, the political princess. She’s neither forward thinking nor new. If you’ll remember, we go way back.”
“Maybe. But Gabe also said that Cutler has found a way to use some of the new technology. Like computers. Can you believe that? And he wants to find ways to help the Sasquatch develop a network to help ensure our safety and maybe even research a cure.”
A cure? He was mad. There was no cure. Being Sasquatch wasn’t a medical condition for crying out loud.
Liberty scoffed. “Hasn’t Mitch already shown you how to use the Internet to track Sasquatch? Why would Cutler’s way be better?”
Nathaniel lowered and leveled his voice, trying to sound placating. “I never said it was.”
“I thought that’s why you left Hickory. So you wouldn’t have to deal with all the politics.”
“That’s true.”
Liberty drove the point home. “We’re doing well on our own.”
“Fine, just, there’s safety in numbers. And without Mitch…there is no safety net. No way to track hunting parties. You know what? Let’s drop it.” He leaned back in a huff.
“Good idea.” No way would she ever rescind her pardon and go back to living with conspirators always on her mind. She turned to lay with her back to him.
Chapter Three
They’d only been signaled once before, on the night Ellie died. Yet, near dawn, three loud stomps sounded on the hatch of the cavern.
Liberty and Nathaniel were halfway down the corridor when Katie hurried out of her chamber, Gabriel close on her heels.
“What is it?” Katie asked.
Liberty looked at Nathaniel. “It has to be Mitch.”
Becky wouldn’t come if it weren’t an emergency.
“Everything’s good,” Nathaniel addressed Katie and Gabriel. “Rest for your trip. Go ahead. We need to see what’s going on, but we’ll be back as soon as we can.”
Liberty swore Katie sneered before she and Gabriel disappeared into their room without another word.
Giving Becky a five-minute head start to walk back, they surfaced and headed for the farmhouse.
After they’d arrived and emerged from behind the partition, they stood face to face with a disheveled looking Becky. Her damp hair stuck to her forehead and her eyes bloodshot. She looked much older than her thirty-seven years.
“Oh no,” Liberty choked out. “Is he—?”
“No,” Becky interrupted. “It’s not that.”
“Good.” Nathaniel’s shoulders relaxed. “I…we were worried.” He gave Liberty a half hug. She relaxed a bit, too. Maybe Mitch felt desperate, like he was almost out of time and needed to finish his story from earlier. Maybe wanted to show Nathaniel the pictures.
“I’m warning you two,” Becky whispered, “the old man isn’t happy.”
“No?” They asked at the same time.
Becky shook her head, looked over her shoulder toward Mitch’s room, “Uh uh. I’ve got no idea what it’s about, he just told me I needed to get you both, then shooed me out like a fly in the fridge.” Eyes downcast, she looked genuinely hurt.
“He’s just in pain, is all,” Liberty assured her. “Don’t take it to heart, okay?”
Becky liked everyone to think her skin was made of turtle’s shell, but in reality she was as fragile as an egg. She even sponsored an orphan in Ethiopia, sent money every month for his care. She’d shown Liberty some colorful drawings the child made her once, she’d had tears in her eyes as she traced the stick figures drawn in front of a block house and said it was her money that bought the crayon
s.
Liberty patted Becky’s arm as Nathaniel pulled her toward Mitch’s room. “It’ll be okay.”
Any notion she’d entertained about their summons being related to the picture show earlier evaporated as soon as she saw Mitch. Becky was right, he didn’t look happy. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was downright pissed. Tendrils of scarlet cut through his misty gray aura.
A couple of days ago she’d have said it was impossible for Mitch to look anything except close to death. Again, she’d have spoken in error because when they entered his bedroom, Mitch was dressed and sitting up in his chair. He wore a blue flannel work shirt with splotches of lavender paint up the sleeve, a pair of gray cotton sweat pants, and thick hunting socks on his feet.
His wardrobe looked comfortable, but his expression was stony. Icy blue eyes were fixed on them as they came through the door and she felt a temptation to look away. She had no idea what they’d done, but nonetheless she felt guilty. She guessed this is what the nurse meant when she’d told them to expect a surge of vitality near the end.
“Nate. Liberty.” He motioned them in with a nod.
Liberty took a deep breath, sitting on the foot of the bed, across from his chair.
Mitch gripped a paper of some sort in his hands. He looked at it and shook his head.
The silence was uncomfortable. He didn’t utter a word. He didn’t have to. He turned the paper around and the photo did all the talking.
Stunned, shocked, and everything in between, Liberty didn’t dare move. She saw Nathaniel out of the corner of her eye. The cords in his neck bulged against his skin.
“Got my second wind tonight and thought I’d do some putzing on the website. Figured I better check my messages while I was up to it, and look what waited for me.” Mitch pointed a shaky finger at the figure in the photo. “This one of yours, Nate?”
Nathaniel and Liberty leaned in to take a closer look. The lamp on the nightstand, near the head of the bed, cast a pale glow, but they couldn’t deny it.
Of course it was one of theirs.
Adrian, in Sasquatch form, stood like a dope with his mouth agape, staring at the camera lens. Liberty sat back, pulled the terry-cloth robe a little tighter around herself and nodded.
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