by T. R. Graves
* * *
Wop! Wop! Wop! Wop!
"What the hell!" Jayden said, popping up and putting himself between me and the door that was blowing into the tent like a tornado had just hit the campsite.
Thorne jumped up from this cot just a few feet away from my own at the same breakneck speed. He looked toward Rorie, who was sitting up and shaking like a leaf, like he wanted to go to her. To take care of her.
As if he and I'd known each other our entire lives, I understood exactly what he needed. I darted over to Rorie and put my arm around her shoulder.
"Go. I've got her. Go with Jayden," I shouted over the roar of the wind, ignoring the whipping of hair against my face.
Thorne nodded. "Rorie, stay with Carles until I come back to get you. Don't leave her side. Do you hear me?"
He waited for Rorie's stupefied nod before following in Jayden's wake.
"What is it, Carles? What could it be?" Rorie asked.
Similar to when she was tired, she was too scared to articulate her words in the perfect manner Thorne had trained her to use. Her words were loud and thick, and I didn't care. I was just as frightened as she was.
"I don't know, Rorie. Thorne and Jayden will find out for us," I consoled, kissing the top of her head and stroking her hair.
Wop! Wop! Wop! Wop!
I knew as well as Jayden and Thorne that the noise was that of rotating drone blades. What none of us could explain was the sheer number of drones invading the camp. There was an entire army of them. My heart raced. I was sure this had something to do with Jayden and me, but Mom and Dad had led me to believe everything was fine, that they'd smoothed over their sabbatical from Barone, an act that might be viewed as treason by some, and told me I'd even be going to the preparatory academy from camp.
Barone never forgives or forgets. I know that. Why don't my parents?
I squeezed Rorie tighter and listened, hearing little over the drones' blades. As if they were all magically turned off at the exact moment, the forest went silent and the gusts of wind died down.
When it did, I heard Jayden say, "President Barone, we didn't expect you, sir."
Dammit! I knew it.
"Surrogate St. Romaine. It's my understanding you're the one to thank for saving Carlie. I'm not sure I, her parents, or Thorne, her fiancé, will ever be able to thank you enough, son," Barone said, and his every word was as sugary sweet—frighteningly malevolent—as the Child Catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I'd been traumatized for months after watching the old show with Gran, and to this very day, I wondered what kind of people thought it appropriate for children.
Every single time I laid eyes on President Barone, I was reminded of the Child Catcher. Because I'd known Barone my entire life, I'd equated the two instantly. I'm not sure why, because the Child Catcher had a long, thin face, bags under his eyes, and caricature-like cheeks, nose, and lips. Barone was anything but bizarre-looking. He held the perfect features of a politician. He was the kind of person that people voted for because of his charisma, charm, and wit.
The most important similarity between the Child Catcher and Barone was the way the Child Catcher lured the kids in with promises of sweets, treats, and candy, only to pull it back, kidnap them from their parents, and leave them locked in a cell.
President Barone had always brought me something sweet: a bouquet of head-sized lollipops, a bucket of bubble gum, or entire vanilla cakes. I refused to tell him chocolate was the only kind of cake I ate. Unmarried and childless, Barone was always trying to lure me into his world and make me believe I was his favorite girl. His special little girl.
For my parents' sake, I always went along with Barone's antics and let him lavish whatever attention he wanted on me, but my every instinct demanded I stick close to my family and that I never let him get me alone, because I was sure if I were ever left alone with him, I'd be as doomed as the children who'd taken the Child Catcher's candy.
The moment he left our house every single time and without anyone in my family knowing it, I'd crush the lollipops and flush them down the toilet. I'd unwrap all the gum, roll the pieces in the dirt, and throw them in the trash. And because it would have been more obvious if I'd have done something with the cake, I'd always simply left it on the counter in the kitchen and let the rest of my family eat it.
I never ate even the first bite of his elaborate cakes, which he claimed were his favorite and no one in the world should be deprived of, especially not his special little girl. I still remember the one he brought me when I was sixteen and a half, a few days before my family and I took off and left without Barone's express permission.
This was the first time I'd heard Barone's voice since that night, the first time since that day I'd allowed myself to really think of what happened between Barone and me.
