They raced back along the trail they’d just made. Around groves, over rocks, through the pond Laylea had had to hopscotch through. Clark caught up when the trail wove through a grove of sycamores.
“How many, Gamma?”
“Five.”
Jay slowed. He barged so roughly through branches the barren limbs threatened to smack Clark. He turned away, following Jay sideways to protect Laylea.
“I couldn’t take it anymore so I started letting them go. I work on them a little and try to wake them up but if it isn’t working I switch to subconscious conditioning. I’m trying to get them to remember what they’re told to forget.”
He slowed to let Clark catch up.
“You’re looking for home base.”
“I’m looking for Trask.” A pine bough rained needles when he reached overhead to slap it. “Every new CF knows the name.”
“Any luck so far?”
Jay shook his head. “It’s not in the mountains. I think the building they return to or maybe the dorm they’re kept in has leaded glass windows.”
Jay stopped in a small clearing. Not running, Laylea could appreciate the beauty of the mountains. A creek trickled by not far off, setting off Jay’s harsh breathing. A ray from the lowering sun sliced across his dark face.
“I’m not rescuing anybody. I never have.” One hand held the kid on his shoulder. He gestured wildly with the other. “All I’m doing up here is catching the Consortium’s grenades before they’re sent into the world. And after this long, we can’t be their only training ground. I can’t be catching all of the CF they send out.”
“You want to go after the Consortium.”
Jay took a deep breath. “I want to go after Trask.” The muscles of his stomach visibly contracted. “I want to kill Trask.”
Clark caught the kid. Laylea slid down his chest and pushed off his thighs to roll in the carpet of leaves while Jay fell to his knees and regurgitated every last bit of Bela’s stew and Trey’s bread. He heaved until only bile spilled into the leaves. Clark set the kid down. He lifted Jay by his jacket.
Jay clenched at his friend’s shoulders. He whispered, “I am going to kill her” and heaved again.
Clark punched him. Jay collapsed.
Clark carried Jay away from the sick. He lowered his friend to the ground and lay beside him in the cold leaves. He did not sing the words but he hummed Sher’s song. Laylea stood guard over the sleeping kid, watching the big man cry.
After forever, Jay asked, “Look up here?”
“It’s from a movie,” Clark told him. “You’d like movies.”
Jay rolled to sitting. He rubbed at his belly. “Ow.”
Clark flexed his hand and rubbed at the rapidly healing bruises. “Yeah.”
Laylea barked. She licked her throbbing hip.
Clark sat up. “Sorry, little girl. How’s our guest?”
Jay pushed himself to his feet. “Thanks, LG. I’ve got him.” He hoisted the kid back over his shoulder and continued toward camp.
Clark recovered Jay’s hoodie and shook it clean. He craned Laylea into his chest and followed.
“The nameless CF remembers movies.” Jay looked over his shoulder. “I know how to build weapons. I’ve got all these diagrams and images of guns and drones and bombs in my head. He gets to remember movies.”
“I remember plants.” Clark hustled to walk beside Jay. “I can turn the pages of this gigantic book in my mind with step by step instructions on how to grow things and repot them and when to plant what and how to prevent pests and how to design and build any type of urban plot. But when I work in our garden, I don’t remember the feel of dirt or the smells.”
“The doc says smell is the strongest sense for bringing back memories.”
Clark thought about that. “Movies don’t smell.”
They picked their way over a few felled trunks over a small creek bed. Clark thought about all the movies he and Sher had seen, hiding in the theater with a dozen other invisible people. He caught up to Jay again. “I should bring you some popcorn.”
Jay offered, “Maybe you grew up in a city. You never had a garden but you had this book.”
“An entire life,” Clark said, “and all I remember is a book.”
“All I remember is killing.”
Laylea knew he didn’t though. If Jay actually remembered killing, he’d be physically ill again.
“You should come down sometime. Watch a movie. Sit on a couch with a dog in your lap. Piss indoors.”
“Still at the same place? In Foothills?”
“Yes sir. My lovely little cottage at the edge of the world.” Clark followed Jay through the tight section of trees and bushes which had featured white fuzz before Laylea ran through them.
They paraded down a dip. Clark tripped over an exposed root and Laylea found herself on eye level with the kid’s dangling hands. She yipped. Clark looked at her. She reached out of his arms to grab the kid’s left hand in her teeth.
The pinkie finger ended after the second knuckle.
“You’re right. I remember this kid. We used to deliver to him.” The memory seeped into his brain. “Always brought him a Snickers bar.”
Laylea barked.
“Yeah, then he swapped the chocolate for jerky.”
“One of your normal hermits?” Jay asked.
“Normal,” Clark laughed. “Yeah. It was he and his mom.”
“Red makes good jerky.”
“I offered him hers but he wanted this jalapeño bacon stuff. Always delivered to the same field.”
“Is your memory fritzing out again?” Jay slowed as the path opened up under a canopy of orange needles.
“Long term’s always fritzy.” Clark said. “Isn’t yours?”
Jay shook his head. He let Clark catch up. Laylea saw him watching the dad closely and she focused on behaving like a dog.
“In my defense,” Clark explained, “he used to be pale tip to toe. Only reason I recognize him now is because I always wondered about how you both lost your pinkies.”
“What?” Jay stopped.
“His left pinkie is cut short. Look.” Clark lifted the kid’s hand.
Jay laid the kid on the bed of fallen needles. He stared at their matching wounds. “The Consortium did this.”
Clark set Laylea down beside the boy. “Have you rescued anyone else missing part of a finger?”
“Kim.” Jay, in an automatic gesture of self-comfort, buried his fingers in Laylea’s fur. “The one who leaped.” He reached for the kid. “We have to keep going.”
Clark stopped him. “I’ll take him for a while. You could use some LG.”
Jay chuckled. “A forest full of rescues and you’re the only normal one, little girl.”
Laylea licked his nose. She tripped over to where Clark bent over to lift the kid and licked his nose. For good measure, she stood on the unconscious boy’s chest and licked his nose too.
The kid’s eyes flashed open. His familiar ice blue eyes focused on the dirty dog and he started screaming. High pitched, relentless screaming.
Laylea yelped. She fell backwards, tumbling off his chest onto the pine floor. Jay wrapped his arms around the kid’s head, crooning, demanding, trying to make him sleep again. But the Snickers kid kept screaming. Laylea whimpered. She cowered behind Clark. He picked her up and walked away from the clearing. The screaming stopped.
Clark turned, surprised, and walked back over to the kid with Laylea in his arms. The kid looked up, saw them. His pupils dilated until there was just a thin circle of blue around the terrified blackness. His mouth worked silently. Before he could start screaming again, Clark walked away.
He called from the shadow of the pines. “Can he be that scared of dogs?”
Jay focused on the kid. “Serum.” He repeated the word at intervals, instructing the CF to sleep.
Laylea buried her nose under Clark’s arm. The kid was Bailey’s age and if the Consortium had cut off his finger, he’d been a CF
since he was just a puppy. They were catching and conditioning kids.
“He’s asleep.” Jay came over to them. “I don’t think it’s LG. I think he remembers you both. He shouldn’t. Something about being unconscious knocked the memory loose. He’s not supposed to remember you and it hurts.”
“That’s awful.” Clark flipped Laylea over to cradle her. “I guess you have to carry him the rest of the way.”
Jay smirked. “You two go ahead, tell the others they should break camp and move on for the night. I’ll let him rest for a bit before I follow you.”
“Yeah. Let him rest.”
Jay ignored the jab. “Pressure Trey to get Maggie away. She doesn’t . . . .” He stopped before he gave away information he wasn’t supposed to have.
Clark ignored the slip. As he walked into the forest, he called over his shoulder, “Yup. We’ll save you some stew.”
“You’d better.”
Laylea barked.
“No, don’t worry, little girl. I’ll totally let you have his stew.”
“There had better be stew for me when I get back.” Jay cried louder as Clark and Laylea disappeared into the trees. “I cut all the vegetables!”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
A waxing gibbous moon lit the powwow clearing by the time Clark and Laylea reached it. They emerged from the trees to find all but two tents disassembled. Trey and Maggie disappeared into the far trees even as they approached the campfire.
“Left you some stew.” Bela pushed her old bones to as close to standing as she ever achieved. “Jay can return the bowls when’s convenient.”
“Did you catch him?” Ahab took the stool and tucked it into Bela’s already packed travois.
Flower strapped it down. “Where’s Jay?”
“We caught him. Jay’s stalling to give you all a chance to get away. You only have Flower to help, Bela?”
“Feranda had to leave once the screaming started. She took the twins.” Bela waddled over to stand between the lead poles. “I been dragging this thing since long before I picked up these kids or her.”
“Don’t worry, Captain.” Flower stopped him from following her. “Her hands don’t grip enough to pick them up. Can you get this to Judah?”
“And this?” Ahab stacked his letter on top of hers.
Clark took the letters and handed Laylea to Flower. “Can you have Bela give LG a once over? I did my best but I’d feel better.”
“Sure.” Flower licked her thumb and wiped at the blood on Laylea’s face as she walked away.
“The kid must have gone through some of the tents. We’ve destroyed his camera and the memory chips.” Clark slipped the IDs into Ahab’s palm. “He also had these.”
Ahab paled.
“Should I tell Judah to move?”
Ahab zipped the cards into his breast pocket, thinking aloud. “He couldn’t have heard us talking from so far away. You’re the only one who knows the name Judah is using. No. God, let him be safe, let him be happy.”
“We have a code. I could tell him what happened and let him decide for himself.”
“No.” Ahab held out his rough hand. “You’ve been a great help to us, Captain. I don’t think we’ll see you again for a while.”
Clark started to protest. But no one in Ahab’s family was a CF. They didn’t need Sher’s help. He shook the man’s hand.
“Good luck.”
“You have ice packs?” Bela called as Ahab jogged off after his family.
Clark nodded. “Always carry them now.”
“Get one on her hip. I reset the joint and it’s going to swell. And get one on her head here over the cut but not over the eye. And make her rest.”
Flower handed Laylea back to him. “You’ll make sure Jay’s safe before you fly off, right?”
Laylea barked once and nodded. The ladies laughed.
“What she said. You take care of—”
“Bela.” Flower settled the travois harness against her hips. “Yeah, I’ve got her.”
Clark shared a glance with Bela. “Feranda. You take care of Feranda. There are things that scare her you know.”
“Like a little girl leaving for Denver who knows nothing about the world.” Abuela used Clark’s jacket to pull him down to her level. “My family might have room for another mouth.”
“Thanks, Bela.” Clark kissed her cheek. Laylea licked her hand.
The old woman wiped her hand but Laylea saw a smile quirk the corner of her lips before she shuffled off beside Flower. “Didn’t know you liked the boy till he left. Story of the ages.”
“I don’t like him. I just want to go to school.”
“What can they teach you that I can’t?” Bela pushed a log out of their path with her walking stick.
“How to use a computer.”
“Pff.”
Laylea imitated Bela.
“Yeah. I don’t know how to use one either.” He turned away from the fire. “Let’s get you on ice.”
The nameless hermit stood just outside the circle of logs. He popped the inner packet on an ice pack and shook it. “She said you need two?”
Clark took the pack and held it on Laylea’s head. “Yeah.”
The older man took a second pack from his thigh pocket and activated it as well. “I can hold her. You should set up your tent before it gets too cold.”
Clark glanced down at his girl. “That okay with LG?”
Laylea’s eyes were pinned on the hermit. She barked quietly.
Clark looked up to see teddy lizard resting on St. Nick’s shoulder.
He handed Laylea over. “Thanks. Left hip. You’ll see when she licks it. Old war wound.”
******Clark gathered the Hotel bag from the plane as well as a camp cot that hadn’t see daylight in a decade. With only the other CF in the clearing he felt free to pile himself up with extra blankets, first aid kit, and ropes as well. He dropped all the equipment beside Jay’s raggedy tent.
He set the cot up in the open air and arranged some medical supplies and a sewing kit on the folded blanket. When he turned to pull the tarp out of the hotel bag, he found the hermit had dragged his own well-worn single man tent up beside Jay’s. He unzipped the entrance and lay Laylea inside on the two ice packs.
Clark laid his tarp down to the west of the cot. He unbound a dark green roll of nylon on top of it. The hermit worked beside him. He jiggled the tent poles from the sack and unfolded them.
Clark bent over his work. “He’s a CF.”
“Odds were.”
They erected the tent with the entrance facing in. Clark blew up his air mattress, threw some blankets inside, and then went back to the plane to get Laylea’s bed. When he returned, the hermit had settled on a campstool beside the cot with Laylea sprawled in his lap.
Clark went over to him. “You don’t have to stay.”
The hermit repositioned the ice packs on the little dog’s body. He looked up at Clark briefly and nodded, then balanced teddy lizard back on his shoulder.
When Jay came out of the woods with the Snickers kid over his shoulder, Clark was tying down the plane against a windy night. Laylea had rolled upside down. She’d turned the crook of the hermit’s elbow into a pillow with one paw over his hand on her belly. She was half sleeping, half staring up at the silent one’s face as he scritched her.
Jay had barely planted the kid on the cot when he woke, saw Laylea, and started screaming. The nameless one set Laylea and teddy lizard on the ground. He then leaned over the kid and screamed with him. He didn’t touch him. Didn’t scream at him. He just calmly caught the rhythm and pitch and screamed with the CF until the kid stopped in confusion.
“Hi.”
The kid stayed quiet. Jay started to move in but Clark stopped him with a hand on his arm. They let the least healed CF take the lead. The hermit sat quietly, watching the kid for a bit. Then he let his gaze wander over to the moonlit plane.
The kid couldn’t take his eyes off the man. “Hi.”
; The hermit looked back at the kid. He scratched his beard. Then he asked, like an afterthought, “What’s your name?”
“Three… three nine seven.”
“Two eight four was what they called me.” The hermit was quiet a while, remembering what he could of the people who called him that. “But that’s not who you are.” He picked up the hose of his camelback, drank, and then handed it to the kid. He sat back, looking off at the trees while the kid propped himself on an elbow and took a long draught.
After a while the kid remarked, “I’m supposed to kill all of you.”
“Is that what your heart tells you?”
The kid crinkled up his face at the hermit.
The hermit tried a different tack. “How do you feel about killing me?”
The kid thought about it. “I feel empty. I feel thirsty, missing, canyons.” He drank again. “I’d feel better if I did what I’m supposed to.”
“If you did what?”
“If I did what I’m supposed to do.”
The hermit asked, “What are you supposed to do?”
The kid fell silent again. Clark knelt down to continue reweaving his orange bracelet. Laylea crept over to him. Jay hunkered down to pet her while they watched one broken man trying to help another.
The conversation went on in fits and starts for an hour. The hermit called Laylea over after a while by wiggling her teddy lizard at his feet. She crept over with tail tucked safely between her legs, ears pasted against her head. The hermit rubbed her ears till she calmed a little. He picked her up and set her in his lap scratching all along her flanks.
When the kid saw her, he sat up. But he didn’t start screaming again.
“You know little girl?”
The kid turned away and rubbed his third eye. Clark crimped the loose ends of the cord. He pulled out a Snickers he’d collected from the plane and moved forward slowly, offering the candy bar to the kid. The kid reached out automatically when he saw it.
“It’s been a few years since I brought you one of these.”
The kid spoke even as he unwrapped the chocolate, “I don’t know you.” He refused to look at Clark, turning instead back to the hermit with Laylea on his lap. “I don’t know you.” Tears streamed down his cheeks as he ate the Snickers.
WereHuman - The Witch's Daughter: Consortium Battle book 1 (Wyrdos) Page 26
