“She is? I mean, she was pretty amazing, but she doesn’t look that tough, and she barely touched Willie and Wyatt.”
“She barely touched them, because she didn’t want to break a nail. They knew they were catching us off guard; they knew we weren’t going to fight to the death or risk exposure over one kid. And don’t let her size or shape fool you. I’ve seen her in action. Her skill isn’t so much in brute force as it is speed and cunning. That girl knows your next move before you do. A guy like Willie can pack hundreds of pounds of force with one fist, but Angel would just duck out of the way. She’s a machine; they’ve developed her into this incredible combination of mental acuity and physical prowess.” Archer narrowed his eyes a moment. “I would love to know how they did it.”
He shook off the wistful daydream and refocused on Aiden. “Point is, Aiden, I was pleased with your execution of the task. You gained her trust, you improvised and manipulated the situation, and you even managed to sedate her without killing her. A chip off the old block.” A wicked little smile crossed Archer’s lips. “Probably pissed off Joe Manning to no end.”
“Joe who?”
“Never mind.” Archer nodded at Aiden. “And don’t worry. We’ll get another chance.” Then he stood up. “Are you ready for more?”
The young man jumped up. “Absolutely.”
“Good. Go get cleaned up. Put on a suit and a tie. We’re going on a little trip.”
Chapter Four: Disneyland
“Yes, yes, we’ll be there in time for dinner, Gran. Well, I’m sorry, we didn’t want to take any chances. We’ve been to New Mexico, Saskatchewan, and Michigan already. But we’re almost home now. We’ll see you soon, okay?”
After hanging up with Granny, Joe returned to the main cabin of the plane. He’d left to make the call, because he didn’t want to wake up the girls, and he didn’t want anything he said to ruffle Grace’s feathers. She hadn’t changed position since the plane took off from Fort Dodge. She was still staring out the tiny airplane window, lost in thought, while both Ellie and Angel were crashed out on the leather loungers. They were apparently exhausted, either from the craziness of the previous night or from the carbohydrate-induced comas of their breakfast this morning. Joe had long since given up trying to counsel Angel in her dietary choices, and he expected he’d get no further with his newest charge. The younger ladies had even browbeaten him into trying one of the French pastries that morning.
Grace was the only one who had not joined in the indulgence, sticking to her black coffee and toast. Joe stole a sidelong glance at her, as he returned to his seat. It had been about ten years since he’d last seen her, but who would guess? She looked much the same as she had back then, which was quite different from her older sister. Lucy was tall and thin as a reed, with fair skin and strawberry-blonde hair, while Grace had a rosy complexion, dark, almost auburn hair, and a softer figure. But that’s where the softness ended—Grace’s whole demeanor smacked of a no-nonsense fifth-grade teacher, complete with eyes in the back of her head. Even when she was still in high school, it had seemed as though Grace was the mature elder sibling, and Lucy, the carefree wild child.
As if reading his thoughts, Grace turned toward him. “Joe, I hope I don’t seem ungrateful. I truly appreciate everything you’re doing for Ellie and me.”
“I know, Grace. We all just want what’s best for Ellie.”
She sighed, and turned back toward the window. “I hope we’re doing the right thing. This is not what I wanted for Ellie. I wanted her to have a normal life. I didn’t want her to grow up feeling like she’s weird or different, or even special…just normal. Is that so wrong?”
Joe held his tongue. He had never agreed with Grace’s approach to raising Ellie. Ellie was special, and why shouldn’t she know that? But it wasn’t his call. Much as he might have liked it to be, it wasn’t his call. “Gracie, I—”
“Gracie?” She faced him again, allowing a smile to escape her lips. “No one’s called me Gracie in…well, since Lucy died.”
“No one?” Joe grinned. “What kind of people you been hanging around with down there in Atlanta?”
“The wrong sort, I suppose, or maybe I just never gave them a chance.” She shrugged. “I never really got close to anybody. I never felt like I knew who to trust.”
His tone was more serious, “I’m sorry, Grace. I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve done a lot of things differently.”
“Joe, don’t. You know I wouldn’t have let you. I wanted to do things my way. I wanted to give Ellie that safe, normal life. I would’ve pushed you away if you’d tried.”
“And maybe I wouldn’t have let you. Maybe…” He softened his voice, “Maybe if I’d done things differently, I wouldn’t have lost all three of you.”
Grace reached over and laid her hand on his. “You haven’t lost us, Joe. And you never lost my sister. You know she loved you. Always. Nothing that happened could ever change that.”
He shifted his gaze out the window nearest him, pretending to study the mountain range they were passing over. He fought the gnawing ball of pain that rose in his throat, then finally grumbled a response, “Thanks for saying that, Grace.”
Okay, he needed to change the subject. He reached down next to his seat, picked up his bag, and moved over to the the long couch that lined that side of the plane, bringing him close to Grace. He motioned toward the bruise on the side of her face. “Can I at least help you with that?”
Grace glanced across the cabin to where Ellie was sleeping, then nodded at Joe. “Yeah, that’d be nice. I’d hate meeting everybody with a black and blue face.”
He dug around in his bag and came up with a small rectangular package. He tore it open and removed a lumpy-looking blue cloth. He held it up, explaining, “New creation from that kid Spencer. Works like a charm. See, it helps to draw the energy—” He caught himself babbling. “Uh, never mind. Just relax, Grace. Lean back and close your eyes.” Once she was in a more comfortable position, he spread a white salve gently on her bruised face, then laid the lumpy cloth over it. He placed one of his hands on top of that, and the other along the side of her neck to keep her head steady. “Grace, you’re not relaxing.”
She peeked out at him. “Sorry, Joe. It’s just…it’s been a long time…”
“A long time since a man has tried to heal you?”
“No. A long time since a man has touched me, period.” They both laughed at that, Grace wincing from the pain as she did so, and then they tried it again.
Joe talked her through the ritual, as he did with all his patients, reminding her to focus all her healing energy on the injured spot, to increase the blood flow to the area, and to chase away the inflammation and swelling. Then they did the same thing with her bruised ribs. When they were done, she boosted herself back into an upright position again. “Better?” he asked.
Her eyes looked soft and drowsy. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. Thank you, Joe.”
“Glad to help. Hopefully, you’ll lose some of that awful color by the time we get there.” He wondered if he should return to his seat, if it would make her feel uncomfortable for him to stay so close. He wanted to stay close. He hadn’t realized how much he missed her, too, until he was with her again.
Before he could make up his mind, something caught his eye out the window. He pointed. “Hey, look, remember the old mountain tunnel?”
“The tunnel! Omigosh, I forgot about the tunnel.” Grace laughed. “When I was little, I thought this place was better than Disney. Disney’s just make-believe; Granny’s farm is real.”
“You’ll be impressed with all the stuff that’s been added, and some of the improvements we’ve made, especially to the security features. Oh, and you’ll love our new cook. Some famous chef from Jamaica. He can turn a pile of rocks into a gourmet meal. I think I’ve gained ten pounds since he settled in with us.”
“Joe…”
He ignored the cautionary tone in her voice and ran right over her. “And we’ve got this grea
t room in the back corner of the house where Margo Wilcox used to stay. It’s got a beautiful view of the pasture, and the most charming—”
She spoke more firmly, “Joe, this isn’t permanent. You know that, right?”
He was silent.
“I mean, it’s one thing to tell Ellie she’s got the gene, meet some of your…her people, understand your goals and all that, but it’s quite another to take this on as a lifestyle. That’s your choice, and Granny’s and Angel’s and whoever else, but it’s not Ellie’s. Ellie was happy in Atlanta. She loved her life. She had loads of friends. She joined clubs, performed in the school play, even helped me out at the Animal Hospital when she had time. She’s not going to run away and hide in the hills of North Carolina for the rest of her life, like you.”
Joe turned his head sharply toward the window, biting back the retort that had formed on his lips.
“Ugh. Sorry, Joe. I didn’t mean that the way it came out. I just—”
“I know what you meant.” He sighed and looked at her again. “Like you said earlier—you want Ellie to have a normal life. You don’t want to turn her upside down and inside out, and you want to save her from any more pain. I get that. But isn’t it her choice? She’s sixteen. She’s old enough to—” He stopped himself as he heard a loud yawn and a rustling from across the cabin.
It was Angel, stretching her long, muscular arms over her head. She pulled herself up to a sitting position, then flashed Joe and Grace her signature toothy, bright white smile. “Man, I love this ride. If you gotta shake some bad guys, this is definitely the way to go.” She glanced out the window. “So, we’re almost home, right? ’Cause I’m starving.”
Grace laughed. “You and Ellie are going to get along well—simple needs: food and sleep, sleep and food.”
Angel looked at the sleeping girl. “You’d never know it. What’s she weigh, like eighty-five pounds? I could help her with that. I could teach her to lift some weights maybe…and then pig out on ice cream together. It’ll be fun. I been needing another chiquita to hang out with.” She reached over and yanked on her new friend’s arm. “Hey sister, rise and shine. Time to land.”
The bleary response was half-mumbled, “Land? Where? Aunt Grace?”
Grace turned to face her. “Hi, honey. Wipe the sleep out of your eyes, Ellie. You’re going to want to see this.” She beckoned toward her side of the plane, and Ellie and Angel crossed over to sit with Joe and Grace.
“Hey…your face looks better, Aunt Grace. You sure heal quickly.”
Joe winked at her, and Grace just smiled. All four buckled their seat belts, then turned to watch out the window as the plane made an abrupt change of direction into a mountain pass. Below them was a valley lined alternately with dense trees and large stretches of farmland and pasture, and dotted with a scant handful of old houses and barns. The plane straightened out, hovering lower, and apparently heading directly for the woods. As if by magic, though, a wide swath suddenly opened in the center of the grove.
Joe grinned at Ellie’s reaction. “Holy crap! What the—”
“Ellie! Mind your manners!”
“Uh, sorry, Aunt Grace, but did you see that? I mean, how did…how could…”
Joe touched her lightly on the shoulder. “It’s all done with mirrors and cameras and what have you, Ellie. It’s really not that big a deal.”
“Not that big a deal? It’s so cool! I mean, that was amazing!”
Angel laughed. “If you think that was amazing, chica, just wait. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
# # #
“So after all that, we’re now in…a barn?” Ellie stepped out of the shiny, mirrored elevator, expecting to be surrounded by marble, glass, and stainless steel, and instead found herself behind a wall of hay and face-to-face with a large cow.
“A Beltie!” Grace seemed unsurprised by their agrarian surroundings, and immediately approached the cow and began stroking its neck. “A real, live Belted Galloway. Wherever did you find her, Joe?” Grace looked like a ten year old in a toy shop.
Joe stepped up next to her and ran his hand along the top of the cow’s back. “Gilda here is originally from a farm up in Virginia. We brought her down about five years ago with a handful of others. We’ve got a nice little herd now.”
“Gilda, where are you, girl?” A lanky farmhand-looking person came around the haystacks looking for the cow. “Oh, hey, Joe! Glad you’re back.” The man’s eyes shifted to Grace and Ellie. “And who’ve we got here? Is this Miss Grace and little Miss El-o-die?” He said the name as if he were introducing a celebrity at a supermarket opening. “Been hearin’ all about you ladies today.”
Ellie wondered what the guy had been hearing about them and from whom. She also wondered about his interest in Aunt Grace. The tall blonde farmhand had stepped to within six inches of her and was grinning like an idiot.
“I heard you were a vet, Miss Grace. Maybe you’d like a little tour—”
“Vet tech, actually. I never finished my degree.”
The farmhand shrugged off the difference. “Better than anything we’ve got right now. I’d still like to show you around.”
Joe nudged in between them. “Uh, maybe tomorrow, Doo. The ladies are tired now; they’ve been traveling all day. We need to get them settled in.” He took Grace by the elbow and more or less pushed her away from the cow and the farmhand.
“Okay, Joe.” Doo called after them, “Uh, see you ladies tomorrow!”
“Come on, it’s this way.” Joe was hurrying the group toward a side door, but Ellie couldn’t help but linger. She’d never been on a farm before. The sweet smell of hay and the pungent odor of livestock mixed awkwardly in the atmosphere. Cows mooed, horses whinnied, and somewhere in the distance, chickens squawked and geese honked. And over all of it, Doo could be heard, chattering to the animals as though they were all fluent in English, or at least some twangy Southern dialect thereof.
“Sweetheart, let’s go,” Grace urged, waving Ellie toward the door. “We can come back tomorrow, if you’d like to spend more time with the animals.”
“Huh? Oh, sure…” Ellie followed the others out the door. The sun was low, throwing a warm orange glow across the landscape. A short distance in front of them was the side of a classic nineteenth century farmhouse. It was white and spacious, but not extraordinarily large, and decorated with vines and trellises, arched entrances, and scalloped trim. Tall brick chimneys flanked the sides, and porches wrapped around the circumference. A collection of outbuildings, clustered behind the house, completed the panorama.
Ellie shook her head. This pastoral view was quite the contrast to the space-age private jet that had brought them here, and the super-secret hidden runway they had landed on. What else did this day have in store? She still knew little about what had happened the night before, or why it had resulted in them flying all over the country today and finally coming to rest here in…well, she really didn’t know where they were. After the third or fourth time she had asked, Grace had finally shut her down with a promise that all would be revealed when they finally reached their destination.
Since it appeared they were now there, Ellie caught up to Grace and tugged on her sleeve. “Aunt Grace, where are we? What is this place? And how long are we staying?”
Angel, who was in front of them, spun around and started walking backwards. “We’re in western North Carolina, near the Great Smoky Mountains. It’s a bit rustic for us city gals, but it grows on ya.”
“Wait, what? We’re in North Carolina? We were in the air for eight hours, made three stops, and only traveled a hundred miles? I could have biked here faster.”
Joe laughed. “Probably so, Ellie, probably so. We were just being cautious. We wanted to make sure we wouldn’t be tracked or followed.”
“Tracked? Followed? Seriously? By who?”
“Whom,” Grace corrected.
Ellie stopped abruptly. “Who, whom! Who cares? Aunt Grace, what is all this? Why all the James Bond s
tuff? Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”
Before anyone could respond, a voice called out to them from the farmhouse porch. The sound was high-pitched and creaky, yet sternly commanding, “Well, there you are! I was wondering if you’d ever get here. Come on now, let’s get you inside.”
Ellie forgot her questions momentarily, and, like the others, dutifully followed orders. The woman who had called to them was older, sixty-something by Ellie’s guess, and doing as the woman requested did not appear optional. She was tall, bony, and long-limbed. Her hair was a mixture of black and gray, pulled back in a severe bun that emphasized the sharp angles of her jawline. A simple gray dress, fitted at the waist and high of neck, was a perfect match for her very sensible, laced-up shoes. Ellie imagined this woman would make a good army sergeant, or perhaps, prison matron.
“Ah, Grace, it’s good to see you again, dear.” The woman grabbed Grace roughly and gave her a brief, efficient hug, which Grace only half-heartedly returned.
“Elmyra. How are you?”
“Oh, come now, dear, you can do better than…” The woman’s voice trailed off as she turned her attention to Ellie. She sucked in her breath and let out a low whistle. “Oh, my, my, my. Elodie Eggleston.” The older woman reached out and grasped Ellie by the shoulders. “The spitting image. The spitting image, I tell you.” Her voice cracked slightly, and she blinked back a few tears. Then the old woman yanked Ellie into her bony chest and squeezed tightly.
Ellie winced, eking out a response, “Um, hi, nice to meet you, Miss…”
The woman pushed her back away, still gripping her by the shoulders. “Oh, call me Granny, honey. Everyone does.” She glanced quickly at Grace, then added, “Well, almost everyone.”
Ellie thought she heard a chuckle coming from Uncle Joe, but then he cleared his throat and motioned everyone toward the door. “C’mon, folks, let’s get inside and get everyone organized.”
As Joe pulled open the screen door, a commotion inside once again stopped them in their tracks. A little girl of three or four, wrapped in an artist’s smock, came bursting out. She carried a large piece of paper in one hand, and a thick paintbrush in the other. There was blue paint smeared on her face, and a rainbow of colors on the smock. She was giggling and looking back over her shoulder as she rushed by them and down the porch steps.
The Gifted Ones: A Reader Page 5
