Deep
Diana Knightley
Contents
Part 1
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
The Deep
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Home
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
* What They Named the Baby
Also by Diana Knightley
Also by H. D. Knightley (My YA pen name)
Acknowledgments
About me, Diana Knightley
Copyright © 2018 by Diana Knightley
All rights reserved. Including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book by way of the internet or by way of any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please buy only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
Created with Vellum
For Isobel, Fiona, Gwyneth, and Ean
Keep your chin up.
Part I
The Road
Chapter 1
Beckett stood in a hallway of the temporary bunkhouse with his release forms in his hands. His duty was officially over. Six years done. The past six months of fighting in the East, over. He was done with bombs and shrapnel and explosions and near misses. For good. He had survived. It had gone faster than he thought it would, like he had been in a trance and was waking up now, still alive.
Now he got to go home. The paperwork said so. His name was written across the top. It said in bold face: Released from Duty. It bore today’s date.
There was a big problem though. He had to get home.
He thought there’d be a bus, but apparently those only go one way or some other kind of bullshit. The officer that passed Beckett the paperwork seemed to think it was beneath his station to also arrange for Beckett’s ride home. The trains were stopped because of skirmishes around the tracks. The airport was north through heavily bombed areas, a no-man's-land.
Beckett had been told to sit tight and wait for a ride.
When he asked how long it might take the answer was, “Weeks, if you’re lucky.”
He banged the back of his head against the wall. “Damn.”
He went to the mess hall for lunch — one table, three guys, a basket with “provisions.” Beckett chose the bar that tasted, if you had a good enough imagination, like bacon.
Turk asked, “Homeward bound?”
Beckett slammed the paperwork on the table and shook his head.
“Ah, you my friend, have entered the seventh level of hell. Welcome.”
“I thought you were injured?”
“I am.” Turk patted the side of his immobile leg. “Bad enough to get me a ticket home, just no transport. I’m waiting in this bunk, praying it doesn’t explode before I get to leave. If you think about it, it’s one big cosmic fucking joke. The kind that makes you laugh ‘til you cry.”
“My job was to protect the rail lines and the ports. I guess I should have protected harder because they don't work.”
“No supplies either. Munitions though, seems those shipments always get through.”
Beckett ripped open the top of the bar and took a big devouring bite. “If I was an arms dealer I could get through.” The windows rattled with a faraway explosion.
Turk ducked. “If you were an arms dealer, you wouldn’t get to go home, so yeah, that’s not the best plan. You got a home to go back to?”
“I do. And a girl.”
“Phewee, this is gonna be a tough wait for you then. Me, I’m sitting because I can’t walk, can’t do anything but wait. You got two legs. You have to wait and hope they don’t,” he used his fingers to add quotations around, “sign you back up.”
Beckett clenched his teeth. “They could sign me back up?”
“They have the enemy at the gates, fucking assholes, and all those body bags to fill." Turk chuckled. "If I were you I’d look busy.”
Beckett said, “I could walk out. West.”
“That you could, and you’re a free man. I’d go with you if I could. Take food and water, stay clear of the military roads. It’d be three days before you get to a civilian road. With all the refugee movement you’re sure to get a ride with someone.” Turk stood and pulled crutches to his side, wobbling as he balanced. “And Beckett, a bit of advice. You’ll want to keep the bombs behind you, if they’re in front of you you’re going the wrong way.”
He turned and lurched to the door. “Hope I don’t see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah Turk, you too.” Beckett finished his breakfast, ran his hands over the bristle on his head, put his elbows on the table resting his mouth on his fists. He glanced around the room. He could fill a bag with food. Take his hydration pack. He would really need his helmet and a gun, but that was Mainland property. He couldn't risk the trouble; he'd have to go without.
He would take some food, water, and his personal things. And go. That’s all he needed to do.
There were maps hanging on the wall, old, antiquated. He located his base on one and followed his finger down a trail to a highway. It would take about three days through the woods. South then west. He took a photo of the map and gathered his things.
Chapter 2
Six months had passed.
Luna’s eyes opened. She glanced around her small room. The light was dim — raining. She shifted all the pillows she slept around and on, flipped the quilt off, and jumped up. She had slept in a simple pair of underwear, tight now that she had curves in every direction. Her stomach protruded, round and tight. Her belly button poked out. Stretch marks spread from her waist down her hips. She tugged on a small t-shirt that stretched over the top of her belly and pulled on a pair of paja
ma pants Dilly had given her. And tied them under her belly. She ran fingers through her hair and raced to the kitchen. “Did he come yet?”
“No dearest, not yet.” Chickadee checked her watch. “Even with the best of intentions, with no setbacks, he still has to ride home. That’s three hours. so he can’t possibly get here before ten.”
Dilly set a cup of coffee in front of Luna. “That’s if he was still stationed on the coast, and you know I’ve had my doubts, I’m guessing at least six hours.”
Luna poured milk in the mug and stirred it briskly. “But you’ve both been up for hours.”
“I’ve been waiting since five-thirty," Chickadee said. "I’m too excited to sleep.”
“Plus she was too excited to let me sleep.” Dilly dropped into a chair and smiled at Luna.
Luna smiled back.
Chickadee beamed at them both.
They in unison raised their mugs to their lips.
Chickadee laughed. “So is this what we’re going to do, stare at each other until he gets home?”
“Nope, we need to get busy,” said Dilly. “A project. Um—”
“Spring cleaning!” Chickadee disappeared into the laundry room, returning with spray and a stack of towels. “We’ll wash every window. Inside, since it’s raining outside. It will be symbolic since we’re watching for him. Before we blink twice, he’ll be walking up the driveway.” She plopped the supplies on the table. “After breakfast of course.”
_____________________
The three of them washed all the windows. They stripped the beds and vacuumed all the floors. At ten o’clock Dilly went to the market for ingredients for Beckett’s homecoming meal. Leaving, she procured a promise if Beckett arrived while she was gone they would convince him to come home a second time so she could experience it too. At one o’clock they ate sandwiches on the porch watching the rain continue to pour.
Chickadee said, “Any minute now.”
_____________________
In the afternoon Luna un-cobwebbed the house, while Chickadee answered some of her business mail, and Dilly laundered the sheets. Around three Luna resorted to leaning over the back of the couch watching out the front living room window. After a little while Dilly leaned beside her.
Luna asked, “Do you think we have the right day?”
“It’s the day he told us, months ago. I have it on the calendar.”
Luna went to look at the calendar for the tenth time that day. Chickadee said, as she walked past, “I just checked it, the date hasn’t changed.”
“I know, I just have to look.”
The calendar had a scrawled note in red ink and circled four times: Beckett comes home!!!
Luna returned to the couch.
Dilly said, “Any minute now.”
_____________________
Around four o’clock, Roscoe called to check if Beckett was home. Then Chickadee’s friend Peter called, and her friend Tina. Luna and Dilly decided to dust all the books.
_____________________
Around five o’clock they decided to organize the books according to color. It took a while to map out which color to start with. They had to compensate for the fact that all the tall books were darker, but there were a lot more white books. The project was satisfying, and Luna kept working on it while Dilly made the welcome home dinner, coming in now and then to say, “Brilliant!’ and “Perfect!”
Chickadee came in when they were about halfway done, hands on her hips. “Hmm, not so sure.”
Luna faltered in the middle of placing blue books on the blue shelf.
Dilly said, “But look how pretty!”
Chickadee humphed. “Aren’t books supposed to be educational and interesting, and aren’t we supposed to be above judging them by their cover and making rainbows with their bindings?”
Dilly said, “That is all true, but I’ll say it again, look how pretty!”
“Yes, it’s pretty. Still feels wrong, but then again — " Chickadee stalked to the front door and whisked it open and stared out into the rain. "Where’s that boy?”
“Exactly," said Dilly. "When Luna and I get done arranging the books in this rainbow, we’ll all look at them, Beckett included, and we’ll vote. If the rainbow sucks, Luna will put them back. Right Luna?”
“I’ll do whatever I need to to get my mind off this — have you tried calling again?”
Chickadee said, “I just did. Again. Still no answer, same as it was for the last ten weeks. Just a clicking noise. But he said there would be no contact. He told us to sit tight. He would be released on this date, and he’d see us, and I haven’t heard . . .” Her voice trailed off, she twisted the necklace resting on her chest.
Dilly paused for a moment and then handed Luna three books. “Aqua blue, I think those go over there.”
_____________________
At eight o’clock they ate dinner without Beckett. The rain was still pouring down.
_____________________
At ten they headed to bed.
Sometime in the middle of the night Luna finally fell asleep.
Chapter 3
Luna slept longer than she intended. Of course, if Beckett was there — or if he had called — she would have been told, but she rushed into the kitchen anyway, hopeful and excited.
Then she saw the faces of Dilly and Chickadee, and her heart fell into her shoes.
Dilly spoke immediately, nervously. “If you think about it, we didn’t actually know he would come home the first day. He probably needed to finish up paperwork, get his clearance, arrange for transport home.”
Luna stood and nodded dumbly.
“Yes, well, and exactly," said Chickadee. "But since he’s not answering his blasted phone, I need to figure out what time he’s coming home because my heart can’t take eating another of his favorite meals without him here to share it.” She grabbed her keys and headed for the door.
Dilly asked, “Where are you going, it’s pouring outside!”
“I plan to go talk to Roscoe and maybe go ask at the market. I also think I should check with Dryden’s family—” She held up her hands even though no one protested against the idea. “Just in case he’s been in touch with them — my apologies Luna”
Luna chewed her lip. “You’re right. You should ask. Of course.”
Chickadee gave her a small sad smile. “I’ll be back in a few hours, Dearest.” She paused at the door. “Call me, if he shows.”
Dilly nodded.
Chickadee slammed the door as she left.
“What if . . .” Luna's voice trailed off, but her eyes were frightened.
And Dilly was too upset to allow for it.
“What if Dryden’s heard from him? Well we’ll have to cross that bridge—”
“Yes. Right.” Luna poured more coffee into her mug, thinking, that wasn’t really the scariest What-If. Her What-If was bigger, scarier, impossible to speak. What if something had happened to Beckett, would they know? How would they know? And oh god, what if they were waiting and he — he — what if?
She slumped into a yellow kitchen chair and commenced to waiting for word while Dilly puttered nervously around the kitchen.
At two in the afternoon, Chickadee’s car rumbled up the drive, and then, soaked, Chickadee slammed through the front door dripping all over the rug. “I have Roscoe looking for him. So that’s good. Dryden’s mother said they hadn’t spoken in months, but on further pressing, she realized it had been over a year. None of his old buddies knew anything. So yeah. And Dilly, there’s something in the car for you.” She was flustered and breathing heavy as she dropped her raincoat to the floor.
Dilly looked incredulous. “Something for me — in the car? You want me to go out in the rain for it?”
“Well you can’t wait. It will chew through the goddamned seat.”
Dilly’s eyes went wide. “It’s an animal?”
Chickadee sighed. “They had puppies at the freaking market, and I was so distracted with worry som
ehow I managed to take one home with me. Now you’ll have to love it or I’m the worst person in the world.”
“A puppy!” Dilly shoved her arms into her raincoat’s sleeves.
Chickadee dropped into a chair. “Oh Luna, dear Luna, I wish I had better news for you.”
“Well, you tried. And if you think about it Beckett could walk in here any minute.”
Dilly returned from the car, squealing, “Oh my god, do you see this Luna?”
She held up a small golden-colored puppy. Looking into its eyes she said, “You are so adorable. Oh, I am going to love you, and you’ll have to be wonderful, not like that last dog, better than that, in every way. Won’t you little guy?”
She turned to Luna, “We’ll spend the afternoon waiting for Beckett and coming up with a name for this puppy.” She screwed up her face and rubbed it on her cheek pretending to cry. “I already love it so much!”
Luna chuckled, the closest thing to happy she had felt in hours. But it only lasted for a moment. Chickadee pulled her phone from her pocket, dropped it to the table, and menacing toward it, said, “Ring, dammit.”
Chapter 4
Beckett trudged through the forest.
In retrospect it seemed like the dumbest thing in the world to leave base and go like this. The only person who knew he was gone was Turk. He should have left a note because the worst part? He had been walking for about twelve hours over two days and still had no phone service.
He guessed he was headed in the right direction. He was pretty good at such things, not a navigator, but good enough. But here was the thing, rain was coming. Lots of rain. He would need to hunker down. He had a rain coat, but this was a full blown storm. Crap, this water wouldn’t ever fucking stop.
He walked for another hour then found a patch of underbrush that was higher than the path and covered by dense foliage. He climbed under it, wrapped his coat tightly around, and hunkered down, attempting to Go Bird, like Luna had said.
Deep (Luna's Story Book 3) Page 1
