Whispers From the Past

by L. S. O'Dea

  “How big does this device need to be? Will it be attached to an organ or in tissue?” He continued his questions, praying this project wasn’t for Conguise.

  “Small, imperceptible under the skin and it’ll go in tissue if possible. They don’t want to have to perform major surgery. They prefer delivery as a shot or if necessary a minor surgery like used in your tracking device.”

  “My device doesn’t require surgery any longer, just a cut in the skin.” Unfortunately. “May I see the requirements document you were given for this project?”

  “Why? I can tell you everything you need to know.” Parson pulled the folder closer.

  He didn’t have time to play games. “Because before I created my tracking device, before you were promoted to the fifth floor, Conguise had me working on a prototype that is eerily similar to this one.”

  “Conguise.” Parson’s white face paled to an almost blue hue.

  “Is that who you’re working for?” His legs shook with the desire to flee, but he wouldn’t be safe anywhere with a tracking device inside of him.

  “No. No!” Parson stood and began to pace, his long arms flailing around. “Conguise is not the Chapman.” He laughed a little hysterically.

  “Why is that funny?” Nothing that had to do with Conguise was funny. He grabbed the folder and started flipping through the papers.

  “The Chapman is involved in things that the professor...” Parson shook his head. “Conguise is not the Chapman, trust me.”

  “Then he must’ve hired the Chapman to find someone to build his device because these”—he held up a pile of papers and waved them at Parson—“are my notes for my prototype. The one Conguise wanted me to make.” He wasn’t helping with this project. He’d pretend, but he’d steer Parson in the wrong direction.

  “I have to get this done as quickly as possible.” Parson sat down, his face sober and scared. “I don’t want to be involved with Conguise in any way.”

  “You’re lucky I’m here and have some time, because I’d been almost ready to build the prototype.”

  Parson dug through the papers and found the drawing of the device. “This won’t work. I tried—”

  “It’ll work but we need to order the parts to build it.” And he needed to sabotage it when they put it together.

  He began rattling off the materials they’d require, adding in what he’d need for the pinpointer.

  It was late morning when Parson gathered his papers and notes, yawning. “We need to get some sleep.”

  “Yeah. Order the parts and let me think on this for a few days.” He rubbed his eyes, trying to stay awake. He was torn between building a model that actually worked and sabotaging it. It’d be perfect for the Trackers. They wouldn’t have to take the serum every month. With something like this they’d only have to come in once every couple of years for a shot that was filled with a new device and several years’ worth of serum.

  He stretched out on his mat on the floor. He loved this kind of work and he was a lot better at it than Parson which had allowed him to sneak the items he’d need for the pinpointer onto the list as things that might work for the device. It hadn’t always been an easy sell. Parson still wasn’t sure that metal was the best material for the subcutaneous device, but he’d finally won the argument, convincing the other Almighty they needed to test a lot of materials before they’d know exactly what worked best.

  Now, all he could do was wait for the parts to arrive.

  CHAPTER 10: TRINITY

  THE BOAT SLOWED but all Trinity could see was mist. No land, no water, just fog. The weight of the baby Trackers weighed heavy on her lap. Mirra was curled in a ball on the floor of the boat, blood still trickling from between her legs. They had to do something soon or Mirra would die along with her babies. A cold knot of fear twisted in her gut. She couldn’t lose the Tracker, she just couldn’t.

  The boat scraped against something. They were on land, but where and what type of place? Nothing was visible but gray.

  “Come.” Verly stepped out of the boat. “Bring the Tracker.”

  Travis glanced at her, but it was a little late for him to be worried. He should’ve hesitated before he’d followed the Forest Witch onto the boat. They were her prisoners now. She stood, cradling the babies close to her chest and carefully hopped onto shore. Travis gathered Mirra in his arms and they followed Verly and her two Guards into the mist.

  They entered a formation of rocks, their dark shadows looming around them like giant monsters of old. The air was cooler inside and the fog lessened as they continued forward. Soon, there was nothing but a light spray of mist. Verly stopped. The rocks surrounded them, concealing them from the ocean, but below it was paradise. They stood on a ledge overlooking a valley filled with sunshine. There were pastures and gardens and patches of thick brush.

  “What is this place?” Travis’ head moved back and forth, trying to see everything at once.

  “Just one of many hidden gardens,” Verly said, smiling. “When you’ve been hunted by the Almightys for as long as we have, you learn to find the pretty spots to hide.”

  They made their way into the valley. There were about a dozen Producers working the fields while Grunts labored with Guards repairing a large building. A couple of Servants watched them from the trees and there were even some Stockers. Everyone seemed to get along, some even joking with the others.

  “I see you’re surprised by my companions,” said Verly. “Is it so very different than what you and Hugh created?”

  “I never imagined a place like this.” She could stay here forever—hidden from Jethro and Hugh, safe from her lies and betrayals.

  “Come, we need to get Mirra settled.” Verly led them past a group of small cottages and into a barn. “Open the cage and get some blankets and water.”

  “Mirra doesn’t belong in a cage.” She touched Travis’ arm, stopping him.

  One of the Guards opened the cage. The other Guard came into the barn with an arm full of blankets which he used to make a soft bed in the center of the enclosure.

  “This is a peaceful place. I can’t allow a Tracker to roam free until she promises not to harm anyone.” Verly’s words were soft, almost hypnotic.

  She shook her head, clearing the witch’s voice from her mind. “Mirra’s sick. She can’t harm—”

  “Right now, but once she’s better she’ll be hurt and angry at her loss. I cannot take that chance.”

  “Trinity, she’s right,” said Travis, but he didn’t move to enter the cage until she nodded.

  “I’m staying with her.” She looked at Travis. “We should all stay together.”

  He nodded.

  “Suit yourself.” Verly’s sparkling eyes gave away her amusement, but they sobered as she entered the cage. One of her Guards handed her a bucket of water and she dribbled a little into Mirra’s mouth. “She’ll need to eat to regain her strength.” She turned to the other Guard. “Rocco, bring something for these two to eat and get some meat for Mirra.”

  Trinity glanced at Travis who paled and then looked at his feet.

  “So you know.” Verly studied them.

  “We both know the secret of meat,” she said.

  “Good. That saves us from having that conversation.” Verly frowned. “It’s quite distasteful but necessary.”

  “I heard you eat meat.” She needed to know exactly what their situation was.

  “This is a community. I care for and protect its members. We do not indiscriminately kill and eat anyone,” said Verly.

  She should let that go, but she couldn’t. “Discriminately, then?”

  “When one is ready, we help them along, but it’s their decision. The rest of our diet is supplemented by what we grow.”

  Trinity glanced at Travis. So, the Forest Witch did still kill and eat Producers.

  “Nothing is wasted in this community.” Verly’s gaze landed on the bundles in Trinity’s arms.

  “You’re not going to eat them.” She clu
tched the babies closer to her chest.

  “You want food, meat, for your friend? Our supply is very limited.”

  “I...I don’t care.” She backed away a step. “I’ll catch a rabbit or something.”

  “A rabbit or something? I told you. In this community we do not kill anything unless it’s the creature’s choice.” The Forest Witch’s eyes glowed almost turquoise in her anger.

  “It’s not the same.”

  “It is to the rabbit.”

  “Did you eat your aunt? No? That’s right. It’s the same for everyone but Almightys.” It was the only defense she had because the Forest Witch was right. The rabbit didn’t want to die any more than the Producers did.

  “The rules are the same for everyone.” A resigned sadness hung over the Forest Witch.

  “You ate your aunt?” She wasn’t sure if she approved or was disgusted.

  “Yes. I didn’t assist with the butchering but I partook of the meat. She would’ve expected no less.” Verly’s gaze went back to the babies. “Nothing is wasted here. Nothing.”

  “I can’t let you eat them.” She’d fight them all for this. They were innocent like Adam and she refused to let them share his fate.

  “This one time, I’ll allow you to dictate.” Verly’s lips were thin with suppressed anger. “They’ve been out too long without being field dressed anyway. Their meat is tainted, not good for anything but the earth.” She stepped out of the cage. “Go. Bury your dead and care for your Tracker. I’m going to lock the door now. Your choice to be inside or out.”

  “Can I have the key?” She couldn’t bury the babies from inside the cage.

  “No, my dear. I can’t allow you to let the Tracker free. You share a fondness for the creature that others here do not. It wouldn’t be safe for anyone.”

  “Then can you let me in the cage after I bury the babies?”

  Verly’s eyes clouded slightly. “No. Night is close. You must choose what’s important.”

  That was easy. The babies could wait. Mirra needed her. She stepped inside the enclosure, once again destined to be caged.

  “Trinity, maybe we should stay out here.” Travis’ brown eyes looked huge in his pale face.

  “I’m staying with Mirra. You do want you want.”

  He grumbled but entered the cage.

  Verly laughed as the door clanged shut and the key turned. “So young and so trusting. Rocco will be back with the food and some herbs and tea. Get Mirra to drink the tea and apply the herbs to where she bleeds.” She turned and left the barn.

  CHAPTER 11: TRINITY

  ALL NIGHT LONG, Trinity cared for Mirra. By morning, the Tracker was doing much better.

  “My babies, Little One. Where?”

  “I’m sorry.” She stroked Mirra’s furry face and blinked back her tears.

  Mirra tried to sit up but flopped back down, exhausted. “They dead. Mirra need see.”

  Travis moved over to the wrapped bundles and carried them to her. Trinity handed first one and then the other to Mirra. The Tracker unwrapped them and held them close, her long claws stroking along their little bodies. A low purr rumbled in Mirra’s chest and she swayed, kissing and talking to her babies.

  “We need to bury them. If you’re strong enough, you can help me pick the spot.”

  “Verly said she had to stay in the cage,” whispered Travis.

  “If the Forest Witch won’t let her out, I will. She isn’t going to stay here when we bury her young.” This was the least she could do for Mirra and if the Forest Witch gave her any trouble, she’d figure out something.

  Travis pulled her aside. “How are you going to—”

  “I can pick locks, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah. But don’t you need tools or something.”

  She pointed to her backpack. She’d sworn she’d never be a prisoner again and she’d meant it. If she’d had her backpack at Jethro’s camp she never would’ve...He’d said he’d loved her and she’d drugged him. No. She wouldn’t think about that. She had to focus on the problem at hand not the past, not the future.

  “How’s the Tracker?” Rocco’s gaze drifted slowly over her as he entered the barn, carrying a tray of food.

  He was an attractive Guard, tall and muscular with sandy blond hair and eyes so brown they were almost black. His hair was short and his beard trimmed, highlighting his strong cheek bones and full lips.

  “Better.” She took the tray as he slid it through a small door, making sure he realized she wasn’t interested. She had enough problems with males; she didn’t need anymore. “We need to bury her babies.”

  Rocco glanced at Mirra and his eyes filled with sadness. “I’ll tell Ms. Verly.” He turned and left.

  A few minutes later, Verly came into the barn followed by Rocco, another Guard and two Grunts carrying a stretcher. She opened the cage and entered. “Mirra, I’m sorry about your young.”

  “Mirra want be mother. Mirra no good.” The Tracker gave one final stroke down the head of each baby, kissed them both before bundling them in the blankets.

  “Sometimes it’s nature’s way. It’s happened to many others. You’ll have another chance,” said Verly.

  “Mirra no kill more babies.” She clutched the babies closer to her chest.

  “That will be nature’s decision.” Verly waved the Grunts forward. “Come. We’ll take you to bury your young.” She left the cage and headed for the door.

  Travis waited for Mirra’s nod and then picked up her and her babies. He carefully stepped out of the cage and placed her on the stretcher.

  “We’ll take you to one of my favorite spots,” said Verly. “It’s your choice of course, but I think you’ll like this place.”

  They followed the Almighty to an area deep in the woods, far away from the small cabins and huts of the Forest Witch’s community.

  Verly stopped, stretching out her arms. “The trees are tall and strong. There’s water”—she nodded to a stream on her right—“over there, but not too close.” She smiled at Mirra. “And my small community is not too far away. The spirits of your young may haunt our town, eyeing all their prey.”

  “They like that.” Mirra kissed the bundles.

  “Then it’s settled.” Verly turned to the Guards. “Dig.” She faced Mirra again. “One grave or two?”

  “One. They born together. They die together. They stay together.”

  The Grunts put the stretcher on the ground as the Guards began to dig. Travis hovered nearby as Trinity sat next to Mirra, both of them silent.

  When the Guards were done they moved to the side. Trinity squeezed Mirra’s paw. The Tracker unwrapped her babies for the final time. The female was brindle like her mother and the boy was brown with black along his face and paws.

  “I’m so sorry, Mirra.” She didn’t know what else to say, so she rested her head on her friend’s shoulder.

  Mirra kissed her babies and then covered them again. She grimaced as she tried to stand and then dropped back on the stretcher.

  “Let me do this for you,” she said as she wiped the tears from her face, but it was a wasted effort because the ones she removed were quickly replaced by new ones.

  Mirra nodded and handed the babies to her. She carried the bundles to the hole in the ground. She knelt, placing them carefully in the grave. Her tears dripped onto the earth as she started pushing the dirt back into the hole.

  “I can do that.” Rocco knelt beside her.

  “No.” Her eyes met Mirra’s. “It should be someone who loved them.”

  Rocco stood and Verly waved them all away.

  “I’m sorry, Mirra,” said Travis as he followed the others. Only the Grunts remained in the background, waiting to carry the Tracker to the barn when the burial was over.

  Mirra began to hum. It was a sound of love and loss and devastation. Trinity cried harder as she patted the last of the dirt into the hole and crawled over to Mirra. The Tracker pulled her into her arms and she buried her face in the soft, w
arm fur as her body shook with sorrow.

  After several moments, Mirra patted her head and gave her a little shove. “Done. No cry no more.” Her yellow eyes were rimmed with red and swollen but there was a determination on her face.

  Trinity stood, wiping her eyes and smearing dirt over her face. She waved the Grunts over and they carried the Tracker back to the barn, placing her in the cage. The Grunts left, leaving the cage unlocked but Mirra only crawled to her bed and fell asleep.

  On the way back from the burial, she’d seen Travis working the fields with the other Producers. She should go and help but she didn’t have the energy. She dropped down and snuggled against Mirra. She wanted to sleep and forget about the babies and Jethro’s betrayal and her betrayal of Hugh. She wanted to go back in time and go to base camp instead of following after Travis, but then he’d be captured and Mirra would be dead. No, she’d been betrayed by Jethro but it’d worked out for the best. Mirra was alive and that was all that mattered. She closed her eyes and fought against her tears.

  “Verly would like to speak with you,” said Rocco.

  She sat up. The Guard stood in the barn doorway.

  “Can it wait?”

  “She said to let you stay in the barn until the Tracker sleeps and then to bring you to her.”

  She stood, tucked a blanket over Mirra, moved the water within reach and left the cage. Rocco shut the door and locked it behind her. She followed him across the camp to a little cabin off to the side of the community. It was nestled between several large trees, blending into the landscape as if part of it.

  “I leave you here.” Rocco turned and slipped into the forest.

  She hesitated and then walked up to the door and knocked.

  “Come in, Trinity.”

  She opened the door. “You wanted to see me.”

  Verly was sitting in a chair near the window, mending. The cabin was cozy. There was a small fireplace with a pan hanging over a spit, a kitchen table with four chairs, a couch and three doors in the back, probably leading to bedrooms.