by Cindy Combs
"And I want you out of this room and preferably out of this hospital," Dr. Brannon ordered, standing behind the Colonel. "You're upsetting my patient."
"But..." the woman started, throwing the papers back at the Colonel.
Brannon snapped his fingers, and two of the hospital's security men appeared. "I said, OUT!"
Escorted by the guards, the committee woman and Hayburn left.
Jeff looked at his friends. "Thank you." Then he gently set Blair back on the bed. Still rubbing Sam's shoulder, he cupped Blair's face with the other hand. "How you feeling?"
"Ss..cared." Brannon's eyes popped wide at the sound.
Thornton walked over and placed his hand on Blair's head. "You're safe, Blair. Your dad and Uncle Pete won't let those people bother you any more."
Jeff could barely contain his smirk. 'Uncle Pete'? Guess Blair found his soft spot, too.
"Now it's my turn," Ted interjected. "I want to check over my patient and make sure he's ready to go home.
As Jeff guided Sam back towards the door, he glanced at the Colonel. "You sure arrived with those papers in time."
Thornton chuckled. "Much of that paper work was needed to cover Blair's hospital expenses. I'm just glad I had them on me."
"I just don't understand why it would be necessary." Jeff shook his head in puzzlement. "From what Blair has said, Hayburn blamed the boy for his break-up with Naomi. I don't know whether that's true or not. It would have taken something big for Michael to kick Hayburn out of Serenity, plus he'd have needed support from the majority of the adults there. But why would Hayburn want Blair now?"
"There is one very simple explanation - money." Pete shook his head, gazing at the thin boy being checked over by the doctor. "The Clarian refugees are being given money to resettle on the mainland. The amount is increased for each member of the family unit. By claiming Blair as a son, Hayburn would get more money and support from the committee."
Jeff felt another flash of anger. "Over my dead body."
"And mine," Thornton added. He hadn't liked the man, either.
An hour later, the MacGregor home
In spite of his best intentions, Blair fell asleep in the vehicle during the ride. He awoke to the sound of the driver's door opening. Rubbing his eyes, he looked out the window. Unlike the sprawling one story complex at Serenity or the straight, plain hostel in Unity, this tan brick building looked squat and comfortable. It sat back in the shade of several large trees, flowers lining the path to the door. The front was embraced by a porch, a swinging bench seat on the end. The dark brown roof seemed to dip down like a droopy mustache. Blair almost felt like he was stepping into a story book as he slowly opened the door.
"BOGEY!" Sam ran ahead, greeting a huge black and brown beast that had bounced around the corner. Blair stiffened a moment, unsure.
Then a warm hand rested comfortingly on his shoulder. "That's our dog, Bogey," Dad explained gently. "He's a lot bigger than the dogs on the island, but he's just as friendly."
That certainly seemed to be the case. Blair watched as the big head sniffed his brother's neck, making him giggle. The long black tail whipped back and forth, expressing the beast's delight in seeing his boy. Then the huge creature trotted over to Blair. The big nose sniffed over him, smelling his clothes, his shoes and his hair. The whiffs of air did tickle a little on his skin. After a quick lick to the face, the dog then tucked his head lightly against Blair's chest.
"Bogey likes you," Sam declared gleefully. "He wants you to scratch his ears."
Gingerly at first, then gaining confidence, Blair scratched behind the floppy ears. The hair was silky soft. Bogey's tail wagged in pleasure from the attention.
With Bogey and Sam leading the way, Dad guided Blair into the house. The rooms felt more closed in than the airy ones at the commune. Yet there was a feeling of comfort and security. It felt safe.
"Hi, Aunt Dotty."
Blair turned his gaze to an older woman by the doorway. Her dark blonde hair was mixed with white and curled about her face. She gave him a warm smile. "This is Sam's great aunt Dotty," Dad introduced. "Dotty, this is Blair."
"Hi Blair," she greeted him. "Why don't you just call me Aunt Dotty, too."
Blair smiled back. He had never had an aunt before.
"I have lunch all ready in the kitchen. Are you hungry?" Blair nodded vigorously. "Sam, show Blair the washroom and both of you wash your hands."
Watching the thin boy follow Sam, Dotty turned to Jeff. "He looks exhausted."
Jeff nodded worriedly. "We had a couple problems this morning." He quickly updated her. "At least he's able to talk a little. That really surprised Brannon, but he said it's a good sign. He's now hopeful Blair can make a complete recovery." He then gave Kate's aunt a sheepish look. "You don't mind having an extra boy around, do you?"
"Of course not," Dotty waved her hand. "Sam's been lonely in this big house all by himself. Besides, Kate would have loved that little cherub. He has the sweetest blue eyes. Nor would she have held his existence against you." She gave Jeff a comforting hug. "Kate would have understood. And so do I."
Jeff squeezed her back. "Thanks."
After lunch, everyone took him upstairs to his new room. In spite of his exhaustion, Blair paused in the threshold. A small, single bed was back in the corner, a brightly colored spread tucked in neatly. Blair stared at it for a moment. At the commune, he had had to share a room with four other boys. Privacy was a rare commodity.
Next to the bed was a desk with a lamp in the corner. A couple of posters, one of his favorite sports hero and another of a fantasy scene, hung from the walls. Along the other side was a huge floppy pillow next to a bookcase. Blair walked over to the bookcase, running his fingers long the top row of books. It was the entire series of Kid Dooley and Cowboy Willie, in Basic, just waiting for him to read. The crispness of the pages indicated they had just been bought. Someone had bought them for... him? They had actually bought books for him to read? Eyes wide, Blair turned back to his new family by the door. "All...Me?"
Dad gave him a warm smile. "Yes, this room is all yours. Sam's is next door, and mine is down the hall."
Blair ran over and threw his arms around his father. They had made a place just for him. They really wanted him. He was finally home.
EPILOGUE
That night
People were trapped under the debris from the buildings. Not only his mom, but Uncle Michael, the sisters, teachers, school friends, and most of the Serenity commune were buried. Blair tried to pull them out, but more debris continued to pile on top. Naomi kept shouting for him to run. Then Hayburn appeared, latching onto his arm. Blair cried out, fighting to pull his arm away. Then something wet touched his face...
Waking up with a start, Blair jerked up in his bed. By the night light, he could see that it was Bogey nudging him with his nose, concern in the big canine eyes.
Sam appeared in the doorway, carrying a glass from the bathroom. "Did you have a bad dream?"
"HmmHmmm," Blair mumbled, rubbing his eyes and trying to steady his breathing.
Sam walked over to the bed. He'd had enough nightmares to know what to do. "Let's go to Dad's room. He keeps the nightmares away."
Taking the hand Sam offered, Blair crawled out of bed and followed his new brother.
Dressed for bed in his T-shirt and boxers, Jeff was just walking out of his bathroom when he heard a noise. It had sounded like a cry. Worried, Jeff tiptoed to his bedroom door. While both boys had gone to bed a few hours earlier, he knew either could be having nightmares. It had been a stressful day for both of them. He paused at the threshold, trying to determine from which room the noise had originated.
"Did you have a bad dream?" That was Sam's voice. Then there was a muffled tone, probably Blair. "Let's go to Dad's room. He keeps the nightmares away."
Hearing two sets of small feet padding down the hall, Jeff slipped back to his bed. Picking up a book from his stand, Jeff debated on what to do. While he wan
ted Blair to get used to sleeping in his own bed, he also knew the boy had been through a lot lately. It may take a while to not only settle into his new home, but to feel safe again. Plus, Jeff had to admit, it would take some time before he himself felt secure about their safety. Both boys were even more precious because he had come so close to losing them.
"Dad, can we come in?"
Seeing the two boys in the door frame, Jeff couldn't help but reply, "Sure, come on in." He had barely replaced his book on the stand before the boys had scrambled up into his bed. Even Bogey had followed them, curling up on the end of the bed by Jeff's feet. Once both boys had snuggled next to him under the blanket, Jeff wrapped an arm around each son. "Would you two like to hear a story?"
"Tell us a Keegan story," Sam pleaded.
Blair simply snuggled tighter against his Dad. He felt so safe and loved. He was with his dad, his brother, and a big dog. A story was just icing on the cake.
"All right," Jeff replied, pausing a moment to pick a story from his memory. "Once there was a sentinel named Harry. He could see like an eagle, hear like a cat, smell like a dog, taste the slightest of flavors, and feel even the tiniest of imperfections. Yet it was dangerous to have these skills, for while a sentinel focused on his talent, he became vulnerable to other dangers. So every sentinel needs a guide to watch his back and guard against a zoneout. Harry's guide was named Keegan, a wise and intelligent man who was brave and tough and quick thinking. The two had many adventures together...
"...So Harry and Keegan returned to the town they had sworn to protect, feeling confident that their people were again safe." Jeff finished the story softly. He knew Sam had fallen asleep about five minutes ago. He had thought Blair had fallen asleep fairly soon after he had started.
"I...be...guide," a sleepy voice whispered.
Surprised, Jeff smiled down into the blue eyes blinking up at him. "You want to be a guide?" The curly head bobbed up and down. Thinking of the boy's daring adventure in finding him, he replied, "You know something, Blair? If there's a sentinel out there, I'll bet you will find him and become a guide."
Pleased, Blair snuggled back into the bed by his dad and drifted into good dreams about guiding sentinels.
Same night, Cascadia, Washinger Province
~SQUISH~
Damn it, why couldn't Rafe get lost someplace dry? Jim pulled his foot up out of the hole he'd stepped into and inspected his shoe. It was dripping with mud and other stuff Jim really didn't want to identify, especially in the dark. Wrinkling his nose at the obnoxious odor of rotting plants, he reflected on how fast an evening could change.
Just an hour ago, the eighteen-year-old had been at a great party with dancing and food and fun. He'd even managed some good 'closet' time with his current girl, Gina, and still get her home just under her curfew. Jim had been in a wonderful mood by the time he got home.
At least until he had spotted Steve waiting for him in the garage.
An hour earlier
Steve immediately jumped down from his seat on the work bench when Jim pulled in. The look on the 14-year-old's face shouted 'guilt' and 'fear'. Jim climbed out of his vehicle, shut the door, and turned to hear what his brother needed to confess. Then he remembered something. "Steve, where's Rafe?"
Rafe Janson was the next door kid, a couple years younger than Steve. Out-numbered by four sisters, the kid had become the Ellison boys' 'shadow' from the time his little legs could follow them. Neither minded. Rafe was a good-natured kid, and his father would often take them to games and stuff that their own father was too busy for. So it was natural that when Drs. Paul and Jill Janson needed to work with the Clarian refugees, Rafe had received permission to stay at the Ellison house while his sisters went to grandma's.
Steve looked down at the floor, rubbing the toe of his shoe against the cement. "Well, some of us decided to take Rafe, Millie, and Craig on a snipe hunt back in the woods."
"Snipe hunt?" Jim rolled his eyes. "Do you have any idea how OLD that trick is?"
"It's new to them," Steve pointed out. "Besides, we thought it would be fun, running around with them carrying lights and bags and all."
"So what happened?"
A flash of anger crossed Steve's worried eyes. "Charlie Timmons apparently decided it would be funny to scare us."
Jim didn't like the sound of that. He personally thought there was something wrong with Charlie. "What did he do?"
"He set up some kind of a bomb."
"WHAT!"
Steve held up his hands to calm his older brother. "It was mostly noise and light, but really scary. Before you knew it, everyone had scattered. Took us forever to find Millie and Craig and get them home. But none of us can find Rafe."
Jim raised his eyes to the ceiling as he took a deep breath. The woods behind the neighborhood was several parcels long and swampy if you went back far enough. It was a huge and potentially dangerous area in which to lose a 12-year-old. "How long has he been missing?"
"About an hour."
Jim switched his gaze back to Steve, ready to scold him until he took another good look at his brother. Steve's clothes were dirty and torn, evidence of his earlier search for his friend. The fear in his eyes convinced Jim that Steve wasn't taking this lightly. "Have you told Dad and Sally yet?"
Steve shook his head. "Dad had to suddenly leave for Manhaven." Then Steve looked down to the ground. "I didn't want to upset Sally."
Didn't want to get into trouble, you mean. Jim sighed then grabbed his brother by the neck with a firm grip. "Okay, you'll confess to Sally while I change clothes. Then I'll start searching for Rafe."
So here he was, tromping through the wet and dark woods, calling Rafe's name every few minutes. Both his light and his voice were fading, but there was still no sign of him. Jim placed his hand on a nearby tree, took a deep breath, and cleared his mind. By this time, the kid had to be cold, wet, possibly hurt, and most likely scared. Jim didn't like to think of Rafe all alone in this marsh. Besides, he had promised Dr. Paul he'd look after his son. He had to find him.
Taking another deep breath to clear the haze from his mind and perhaps get a better idea of what to do next, a sound caught Jim's attention. Tilting his head, he could make out the words, "...any time you want to find me now, Steve, is okay by me. I want to go home."
Jim quickly gave his head a shake and shouted, "Rafe! Rafe, answer me!" He was met by silence. However, he knew he had heard something. With renewed energy, he hiked in the direction he had heard the voice, calling Rafe's name. It was at least another half a mile before he heard an answer.
Following the voice, Jim quickly walked over a small hill. He peered through the dark and spied the boy hunched down on the ground. "Rafe!"
Rafe turned to his older friend, relief flooding his face. "Jim? Is that you?"
Jim knelt beside Rafe. "Yeah, it's me, Pest. You ready to go home?" Noticing Rafe's shivers, he immediately yanked off his jacket and wrapped it around him.
Rafe nestled into the soft material, appreciating its warmth. "Yeah, but my foot's stuck."
Shining the light at the ground, Jim realized that Rafe's foot had somehow fallen into one of the many small holes in the swamp. Roots had closed tight around the ankle, refusing to release the foot from its grasp. Glancing around, Jim grabbed a large stick and wedged it in next to Rafe's ankle. Using all the strength in his growing muscles, Jim managed to break a root and pull his friend's foot out.
"Does it hurt?" Jim asked as he gently felt the ankle.
"A little," Rafe admitted, not wanting to sound like a baby.
Jim's fingers could feel the swelling and the gash where a root had torn into the skin. "Do you think you can walk on it?"
Before Rafe could answer, Jim's light gave up and died. Rafe jumped slightly, moving closer to his much larger friend. Jim draped an arm around the shaky shoulders. "It's okay, Pest."
"But how are we going to get home?"
Jim gave him a squeeze. "No problem, my night visi
on is kicking in. But back to my question. Can you walk?"
Wondering how Jim could see when everything looked pretty black to him, Rafe stood. Or at least he tried, because his ankle immediately protested the action. Crying out, Rafe nearly fell back to the ground when Jim caught him.
"Okay, guess we'll have to do this another way," Jim replied. Before Rafe realized what was happening, Jim had draped him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "You okay?"
"Yeah," replied Rafe, hanging on for dear life. As Jim began to walk comfortably into the blackness, Rafe added, "Thanks for finding me."
Jim squeezed his leg. "Any time, Pest."
As they continued through the woods, Rafe's tired voice asked, "Jim, is there really any such thing as a snipe?"
Jim laughed the rest of the way home.
The End
Author's note 3/7/99: Thanks to all of you who have emailed to say so many kind things about Before Dawn. It has been gratifying that so many have enjoyed such a wild story. While admittedly this story is not the much-promised sequel to Before Dawn, I hope all of you have enjoyed it.
I do plan to start work on the Before Dawn sequel next (tenatively called Under the Cover of Darkness). It will focus more on Jeff and Frank behind enemy lines, but Blair, Jim and the rest of the gang will show up about half-way through.
Cindy
