The Sapphiri

by R Gene Curtis

  The police. That makes sense. I should call the police. And get to a hospital. Coach is going to kill me for getting hit by a car when I should have been in class.

  I wipe the tears off my cheeks, but they’re replaced by new ones. The rain is coming down harder now. My muscles are getting so tight, I wonder if I’ll ever move them again.

  I don’t know if that guy is coming back. I pull my phone out of my back pocket. Crushed. My phone was crushed by the accident.

  Why can I never call anyone for help when I need to?

  A hand rests on my shoulder.

  “Are you okay?” a man’s voice asks. The man who nearly ran over me but stopped in time.

  “I don’t know,” I manage to say.

  “What a jerk,” he mumbles, and he pulls out his cell. “He didn’t even stop. I hope he gets arrested and thrown in jail.”

  “Can I help you?” Another voice behind me, this one strangely familiar.

  “Oh good, you’re already here,” the man puts his phone back in his pocket. “That’s great. I need to run home. Kids have a big game tonight. Good luck, and please get that guy off the street if you can.”

  And then he runs away. I look at the newcomer, and I scream. I push myself up to run after the retreating man, but my body won’t move. He’s gone—he doesn’t even hear me scream. Standing next to me in a police officer’s uniform is Bob. The Bob who was spying on me last summer, the Bob who told me about Lydia’s disappearance, the Bob I don’t believe is a police officer. He’s here and I can’t move.

  And my bike is a pile of junk.

  “We didn’t get here in time,” Bob says to no one in particular. He slams his hand into a light pole and swears. “We were so close, but we didn’t get here in time.”

  “Who are you?” I yell, hysteric, using my hands to scoot myself away from him, inches at a time. “Why are you here? Why are you everywhere? I saw you in Waunakee. Go away and get a real policeman to help me. I’m hurt, and I need to get to the hospital.”

  Bob doesn’t say anything. Cars zip by us on the street and the rain seeps through my clothes and runs down my back. No one is going to come for me. It will be another two hours until anyone on the team will miss me.

  And my phone’s been smashed.

  “I can’t tell you who I am. Not right now,” Bob says. He doesn’t look at me and his voice is so quiet I can barely hear him over the traffic and the rain. “But, I can tell you that your life is in danger.”

  I want him to go away. “I’m not going to die,” I whimper. “I just need to get to a hospital. I’m hurt. I, uh. I’m hurt.” My hands shake, and then my feet. And then my whole body starts to shake. I try to stop it, but I can’t.

  “She’s going into shock.” A woman is standing next to Bob now. Was she there the whole time? She has dark hair and looks like she’s about my age. She isn’t dressed as a police officer. Does she know Bob? Can she help me?

  “We’ll have to buy some meds for her,” Bob says. “She’s going to be in a lot of pain.”

  “She already is.” The woman swears and shakes her head. “Who knew they would act so fast? I thought it might be close, but I never thought we’d get here late.”

  “They probably acted the minute I disappeared.”

  “Well, they’ll have people here to finish the job soon. We need to get going.”

  “Right.” Bob squats next to me. He puts his arms out to pick me up, making my body twist and move in ways it doesn’t want to. I don’t scream this time, though. I close my eyes and bite my lip as the pain forces tears through my eyelids. He’s definitely not following any kind of medical procedure.

  “Help!” I shout. “Help!” I’m shaking uncontrollably now. I have to get away. I can’t move my body.

  “Do it,” Bob says, and the woman pulls something from her jacket. Something sinks into the back of my leg. It stings for a minute and then everything goes black.

  * * *

  Every muscle in my body aches. Where the car hit me on my butt hurts the most. It’s good I’m lying on my other side—I doubt I’ll be able to sit down on that side of my butt for a long time. I try to lift my head, but my shoulders ache. Not as much as my butt, but a lot. And my legs sting from scraping against the asphalt during the accident.

  Accident. What a strange word.

  My eyes open and I see nothing.

  I hear the sound of the road whooshing by underneath me.

  I’m in a car.

  In the trunk.

  I got hit by a car and then I was kidnapped. By a man in a police uniform and a black-haired woman.

  I can barely move.

  The car hits a bump and I groan.

  “We have to get to him as soon as we can,” a voice says. The woman’s voice. She’s in the cab. “They’re acting so fast. We should have thought of this and picked him up before we came up here.” That woman helped Bob kidnap me. Why?

  Am I victim of human trafficking? Am I about to be sold into sex slavery? You hear about these things happening in the US, but you never believe they will happen to you. Or anyone you know.

  Images flash into my mind. Heavy makeup, dark alleys, fear. Is that my future?

  And I thought sitting next to Joana on a four-hour plane ride was going to be bad.

  “It’s a good thing we came up here first,” a second voice says. It’s Bob’s voice. “If we had arrived even twenty minutes later, she would have been dead.”

  “We almost missed it,” the woman says. “I don’t know how that man got his car to stop so fast.”

  “She’s lucky he had his full attention on the road, or she wouldn’t have had a chance. Still, if she had gone to the hospital, it wouldn’t have mattered how fast that man’s reflexes were. I’m sure we had someone stationed at the hospital. She wouldn’t have lasted long.”

  “The Sapphiri,” the woman says.

  “What?”

  “Not we. You’re not Sapphiri anymore, remember?”

  A pause.

  “I am a descendant of Adolar and Mila. I have the blue eyes. I’ll always be Sapphiri.” Bob’s voice is softer, harder to hear. “Besides, you’re descended from Sapphiri, too. You’re one of us, even without the glowing eyes.”

  “Ugh! Whatever, but I don’t want to hear you say ‘we’ like that again.” The woman’s voice is a cool alto, and I’m pretty sure it sounds familiar, too.

  “Whatever. Anyway, what happens after we pick up Ler? Do you have a plan?”

  “I told you already, Bob. We have to get to Pittsburgh. Every second we’re in Arizona, is one second too many. Too many people in Arizona know me and know you.”

  “Should we leave the country?” Bob asks.

  “No. Don’t be an idiot. We have to stop the virus before they get it airborne. It’s in Pittsburgh somewhere—I’m still sure of it. Besides, I have a tracker on my passport. Every federal agency will be notified if I approach a border. Plus I thought agents like you didn’t have passports.”

  “I don’t. But, speaking of being known, there are a lot of Sapphiri concentrated around the Burgh.”

  “Tell me what you do know about Pittsburgh,” the woman says.

  “Why?”

  “To see if it matches the information I’ve read.”

  “Like that’s fair.” A pause. “Fine. When the Sapphiri came to the US, they set up their headquarters in Pittsburgh. Headquarters moved after several decades. Still, the League has a large presence in the Burgh today, including several training facilities.”

  “Do you know where in Pittsburgh that first base was?” the woman asks.

  “No, but it was called that. First Base.”

  “I saw a note that said something like that. It all starts at First Base.”

  “It?”

  “Yeah, it. Since they’re killing people over it, I’m sure it’s the virus location.”

  We hit another bump, and I cry out in pain. I hate how every muscle in my body hurts when we hit bumps, and when we do
n’t hit them, too. I’m so stiff and so sore. I stop paying attention to what the people are talking about. I don’t have a clue what any of the words they are saying mean. What is Sapphiri? Who is Ler? It’s probably all code so I won’t know what they’re saying.

  I’m headed to Arizona. Maybe I’ll escape and play in the game.

  We hit another bump and my body screams in pain.

  Nope. I’m not going to be playing in any games for a while.

  * * *

  When I wake again, the trunk is open and I can see a clear sky full of stars. Crickets chirp. My body is so stiff I’m not sure I will ever move it again.

  “Oh good, you’re awake.” It’s the woman’s voice.

  “Who are you?” My voice is hoarse—probably from the scream when I nearly died.

  “I’m Pearl Stapp.”

  “Pearl Stapp?” Why does that name sound so familiar?

  She laughs. “I guess you recognize my name. We talked on the phone a while ago.”

  Stapp. That’s right. The boy who disappeared with Lydia. “You’re Karl’s sister. The guy who kidnapped Lydia.”

  “Yeah, I’m Karl’s sister.”

  “And now you’ve kidnapped me.” This is bad.

  I wish I could move my body. The Stapps. They kidnapped Lydia. They took her away. I knew the thing about the other world was a sham. And now Pearl kidnapped me, and I’m going to have the same fate as Lydia, whatever that means. And I can’t move. If I could move, what would I do? Fight? Run?

  I groan and try to sit.

  “Brit, calm down. I don’t know what happened to Lydia. She and Karl both disappeared. There is no evidence Karl kidnapped Lydia, and lots of evidence that they met up willingly. What matters to you is that because of a long chain of events since they left, people are trying to kill you.”

  “Like you?”

  “No, we saved your life.”

  “Am I supposed to believe you?”

  Pearl sighs and walks slowly to the trunk. I can see both her hands, she isn’t armed. Still, she walks with an air of confidence that makes me want to hide. “Surely you realize by now that you’re in trouble,” she says. “Remember a few weeks ago? You were given a granola bar which had been saturated with a fatal virus and you got sick.”

  How does she know about the granola bar? “It wasn’t fatal. I got better.” Was it the granola bar that made me sick? That boy that I never saw again? He was sure cute.

  Pearl sits on the edge of the trunk and puts a hand on my shoulder. “You weren’t supposed to survive,” she says calmly. “You’re on the hit list of a secret society called the Sapphiri.” She sounds like a mother soothing a lost child. I can’t buy it, though. There’s too much on the line.

  “Why?” I can’t imagine why I would be of any consequence to any kind of secret society. They would just have to talk to Joana to find out how pathetic I am.

  Pearl smiles. “You need to understand this.” She looks me in the eyes, and her eyes are wide, sincere. “They want you dead because of your association with Lydia. But there’s more. The group is working on making the virus they gave you airborne. I used to work for the FBI, but I’m confident that the secret group has infiltrated the government agencies. I left and joined up with Bob. We’re going to save you and figure out how to stop them before everyone dies.”

  None of what she says makes sense.

  “You didn’t save me!” I say. “You kidnapped me. First you hit me with that car and nearly got me killed.” Finally, I manage to push myself into a full sitting position. My head pounds with pain, but I manage to stare at the girl. She can feed me whatever lies she wants, but I’m going to escape or die trying. I’m not going to be sold as a prostitute on the streets of some out-of-the-way town. It’s not what my mom raised me to be.

  She sighs. “You don’t need to believe me, but what I’ve told you is true. I wish we could find my brother and your friend, but I’m not feeling optimistic about it. At least not yet.”

  Her voice cracks a little when she references her brother. She’s a good actor, but she’s not fooling me.

  “We don’t have many painkillers, but we bought some Ibuprofen at our last gas stop. Do you want some?”

  “How do I know you aren’t trying to kill me?”

  “You don’t, but if you don’t trust us it will be harder for us to keep you safe. I’m your friend.”

  She hands me a bottle. It’s Ibuprofen and it’s sealed. She gives me a water bottle. It’s sealed, too.

  If they’re going to sell me, they don’t want me dead, at least not yet. Any drugs are better than no drugs—I’m in so much pain I can’t sleep, think, or anything. I swallow a few tablets.

  “We’re sleeping here for a few more hours, and then we’ll get to Arizona sometime tomorrow. We’re going to pick up another person whose life is in danger, and we’re going to head east.” Pearl stands and starts to walk away from the car.

  “Are you planning to leave me in the trunk the whole way?”

  “No, not anymore. I’m really sorry we didn’t get up to Seattle earlier. They really did almost get you. I’m glad you’re alive.”

  She walks away, leaving the trunk open. I listen to her footsteps. She doesn’t go far before she stops. I hear rustling. She is close by—probably getting into a tent to sleep or something.

  Not that I’m going to escape.

  But, I’ve slept so much that I’m not going to sleep either.

  The crickets chirp, the wind blows over the top of the trunk, and I curl up in a ball and feel pain from every muscle of my body. At least they bandaged the scrapes on my legs. That doesn’t mean I trust them.

  12 Another

  Karl

  I spin away from my opponent, letting my stick come down as I turn back towards him.

  Crack! My stick meets his, sweat flies off my arms and glitters in the sun as it flies away. I pull my stick away and strike again and again, repelled each time. I may not be hitting my mark, but I’m pushing Quint towards the edge of the battle ring. He can’t let me push him out of bounds. Right, left, right. Crack, crack, crack!

  He’s getting ready to make a move, but he’s broadcasting it. He starts into a crouch, but before he can get into a tuck, I sweep my stick out and take his legs. He sprawls across the dirt in front of me, his stick rolling harmlessly out of bounds.

  “I’m dead again,” he pants and pounds his fist into the ground. He’s getting better. Fast. He has a natural talent for this. And prior training. Buen wouldn’t have had to yell at him nearly as much as he did me.

  A dove coos nearby. I pull a handkerchief from my pocket and wipe at my brow. My time in the cool of the mountains made me forget just how brutal the humidity in Sattah is. I’d give anything to be in Arizona right now—where sweat actually cools you down.

  “You might as well have told me your next move,” I say between breaths. “Anyone within five miles of here knew what you were about to do. You can’t take that much time to get your feet under you.”

  Quint nods. “Thanks, Karu. Should we try again?”

  “No, we should run stairs for a bit and then call it a day. I need to get back to Ria.”

  “Queen Ria,” Quint corrects me. What a jerk. I knew Lydia long before he did.

  He’s right though. Still, I’m doing good to call her Ria instead of Lydia. Queen? Can I ever see her, the soccer star, the college girl, as a queen? She’s incredible, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that queens are old women who ruled hundreds of years ago. She’s too sweet, too good to be a queen.

  Quint is annoyingly strict about words and phrases, though. It probably comes from his training in the guard. Which, as head of the guard, is his job. He’s trying to do the same thing I’m trying to do—keep Lydia alive and figure out how to get this kingdom under control. Neither of those are easy tasks.

  We drink before we head back to the castle. I dip my handkerchief in the water and let it cool my neck and shield the sun as we walk. We don�
��t hurry—we’ll have plenty more exercise once we get to the castle towers. The cool water runs down my back, sending small shivers through me.

  “How is your training going on the other side?” I ask. We’ve worked out a brutal strategy for training. I train Quint in the afternoons, and he trains his guard in the mornings and evenings. I’m amazed he’s holding up as well as he is.

  “It’s going well. I have so much to learn from you, Karu. You trained with Buen for so many months and we’ve had only a few weeks. But, I feel like we’re improving fast.”

  “Do they accept you as leader?” We both know the better trained Quint’s army gets, the more risk we have of a rebellion. And, we also know that not training is a greater risk. A trained garrison has a hope of quelling uprisings among the people.

  “I try to keep my friends close. The more I learn and the more I teach, the more others seem to trust me. At least the people are back to work and most are eating.”

  “Yeah, it’s good,” I say. At least I think it’s good. All of my training in biology and evolution doesn’t do me any good when it comes to knowing what people will do or how they will behave. Nor do I have any training in how an economy is supposed to work. Fortunately, Quint seems to be a natural at a lot of this stuff. He has a good feel for people. And Somrusee’s been going hard on her propaganda campaign. If only more people knew how to read.

  We stop at the stairs. “Ready?” I ask.

  “One more thing.”

  “Yeah?”

  “The people don’t like the queen any more now than they did two weeks ago. Eventually someone from her guard is going to break through again. We have to destroy the secret entrance into the castle. Even then, we’ll need to keep a constant watch on it.”

  I sigh. “I know.” And I do know. Even though we’re working hard, we aren’t swaying public opinion. That probably means we’re dealing with someone who is really good at manipulation and fear. Someone who loves power. Someone we can’t see.

  Arujan. He might ruin this whole thing before we even get started. And no one can find him.