by Hamill, Ike
On their side, the concrete deck of the bridge had crumbled and fallen down into the river. Down the slope, the South Anna wasn’t that big across. It looked like it had a strong flow, but nothing that would tear down a bridge.
“Let’s get a closer look,” Robby said.
A little north of the collapsed bridge, the going was easier. The hillside was rocky and not as steep. Robby stopped frequently and sought out signs of life around them. Plants, insects, and birds were all around as they approached the water’s edge. Gordie wanted to sniff at the running water. Robby held him back.
Together, they sat on a rock and looked across at the blackened ground on the other side. Robby put a hand up to his forehead and looked upstream.
“I think there’s green over there,” he said.
Gordie wagged his tail and then barked.
At first, Robby thought the dog was barking in response to what he had said. Then he saw the object of Gordie’s attention. There was a school of fish in the shallows of the river. They circled and darted, going after the insects that touched down on the surface.
“Let’s head upstream.”
✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪
A few hundred yards up-river, just before the bend, Robby and Gordie stopped again to stare at the other side. There was a stripe of green that rolled down the hill on the far bank and ended with the river.
On either side of the stripe, the ground was black. Robby stared across the river, looking for anything moving between the burned area and the live patch.
“How deep do you think the river is?” he asked the dog.
Gordie could sense Robby’s nerves. He circled Robby, one direction and then the other, tangling Robby in the leash. Robby stepped over to get free.
“Relax—we’re not going in the water,” he said looking up at the slope on their side. On their side, at the top of the hill, there was a chain link fence that had been overtaken by the woods. “I think I see it. It’s hard to tell.”
Robby paced downstream and up, glancing across the river to align himself with the edge of the green stripe of foliage. He looked back at the unburned hill and concentrated on the plants. He thought he saw a slight difference. It was almost like the stripe of plants that ran through the burned section was continued on his side of the river. It was difficult to see because all the leaves looked the same shade of green. But when he really focused, he thought he saw a pattern to the plants. To the left and right of the imaginary line, the types of plants varied.
“Back in Gladstone, I thought of an idea to try,” Robby said. He took the backpack from his shoulder and unzipped it so he could dig through the big pouch. In the bag he kept water, snacks, toothbrush, a book—all his necessities. There was one special thing he had kept even though it barely had a purpose.
“These things used to be really useful,” Robby said as he powered on the GPS. “But once they stopped getting corrections from the ground, they became too inaccurate to use. Brad was the last person to give up on them. He had a unit where he marked all the bad roads, but when it tells you you’re a hundred yards out to sea, it’s difficult to trust the thing.”
Robby waited while the unit searched for satellites. Somewhere up there, they would orbit and operate for several more years, from what Robby could dig up.
“There is one thing they do that I care about. They broadcast what they think the current time is.”
The unit that he carried had an interesting function. It allowed him to bring up the full stats on any of the satellites locked. The feature was practically useless.
“It’s useless unless you happen to need a way to verify…”
The unit locked.
Robby read the time. He synchronized his watch to the unit.
“The change is going to be subtle, so I probably won’t be able to see it with the naked eye.”
Robby took a few steps so that he was over the line where the plants changed. He stared down at the GPS and waited for it to update. When it did, his knees felt weak. The satellite that had been locked disappeared from the display.
“No way,” Robby whispered. Gordie sat down and looked up at him.
He had to repeat the experiment. He stepped back to the other side of the plant line. Almost immediately, the satellite jumped back on the list.
“It makes so much more sense now,” he told Gordie. “When I left the island, I hit a patch of fog where my electronics wouldn’t work. I thought it was one of the Elementals, but it wasn’t. I had shifted into a different reality.”
He took a deep breath and stepped back over the line. He couldn’t help it. He had to keep repeating the experiment, just to be sure it was really happening.
“That’s a leap,” he said to Gordie. “Just to be clear, what I just said is a bit of a leap. I can’t be one-hundred percent certain unless I go back up there, and I’m not about to ride on a boat for that long. But you have to admit that there is something substantially different between the space here and there. There’s nothing that’s blocking its view of the sky, but this GPS can see this satellite here, and if I move just one step that way, it’s gone.”
Robby had to sit down. He needed some serious time to consider the ramifications.
“I thought maybe the time would be slightly different. I thought if I came to the margin of the burn that I could see a clear difference. This… This is unreal.”
Robby’s eyes unfocused. Gordie circled the young man, one direction and then the other as he got to the end of the leash.
CHAPTER 22: UPSTATE NEW YORK
GLORIA CLAPPED HER HANDS to quiet the conversations.
“Hey, there. Hey, there. If I could have your attention.”
It didn’t take long for silence to fall over the group. There was a nervous energy. People had been gathered quickly and they expected a message from Dr. Matthew.
“Remember—this is not a debate. If you want to challenge what a person wants to say, please don’t take up everyone’s time. We can discuss after. Come on up.”
Frank sat on his hands and stayed put. He had fought to be the one to make the announcement, but Mary and Patrick had out-voted him. Some people still didn’t trust Frank because of his involvement with Luke. The more he fought to form friendships, the farther he drove people away. Elizabeth would have been the perfect speaker—everyone loved her. Mary was a distant second.
Patrick stood up with her.
A murmur went through the group as Mary prepared to address them.
“We took Elizabeth to Dr. Matthew this morning when she tried to commit suicide,” Mary said.
The murmur became gasps.
“She’s doing okay, all things considered. It’s the cause of the attempt that we want to talk with you about,” Mary glanced back at Patrick, who stood behind her. “She was very disturbed after she came back from a meeting with Cirie. I know some of you have heard of The Origins…”
She had to raise her voice to be heard over the side conversations.
“And I have reason to believe that her conversation with Cirie put her in a disturbed state of mind. I wanted to spread the word about this so that nobody else would fall victim to the same influence.”
The conversations died out. The attention was all on Mary.
“What are you suggesting?” Gloria asked.
“I think people should stay away from Cirie and The Origins.”
Frank saw a couple of heads turn towards the back of the gathering. Beyond the last picnic table, a figure leaned against the shed. Until she stepped forward, her face was lost in the shadows. Cirie was smiling.
“Dangerous in what way?” Gloria asked.
Frank looked around the group to get a sense of the overall sentiment. Eyes bounced between Mary and Cirie. People seemed eager to know what would happen next, but Frank didn’t see any surprise on their faces.
“That’s what I would like to know,” Mary said. “Elizabeth isn’t the first to harm herself, and if we don’t put a stop to this c
ult, then she won’t be the last.”
A cold realization settled into the pit of Frank’s stomach. He began to extract his legs from under the picnic bench.
“These are serious claims,” Gloria said.
Cirie began to make her way between the tables, walking towards Patrick and Mary.
“We should take them somewhere so we can explain,” Cirie said.
Gloria nodded. “That’s precisely what I was thinking.”
Several other people began to rise. Mary backed into Patrick. The two of them watched as Cirie advanced and the others stood to back her up. Frank thought he knew these people. It was apparent that he knew nothing about them at all. Whatever notion had entranced them, they now meant to force it upon Mary and Patrick. Frank’s only advantage at this moment was that they didn’t seem to realize that he was outside of the spell. Since he hadn’t stood up to accuse anyone, they weren’t surrounding him.
Mary and Patrick had no such luck.
They weren’t coerced with weapons. It was just a matter of numbers. Encircled by dozens of Cirie’s people, Mary and Patrick had no choice in the matter.
While the group ushered Mary and Patrick towards the vehicles, Frank faded to the back of the crowd and watched from the safety of the shed.
Cirie took her spot in the driver’s seat of a gray utility van. Frank had seen it around before. People used it to transport big equipment in bad weather. First Mary and then Patrick were lifted into the cargo area. They tried to escape, but hands found them and shoved them back. The metal doors were shut and a lock was run between the door handles. Cirie fired up the throaty engine and the crowd began to disperse.
They showed no anger and no guilt. This was simply a chore they had performed—a mess they had cleaned up.
Cirie drove off.
When he saw his chance, Frank rushed to his own vehicle.
✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪
Frank saw a flash of gray through the woods and knew where they had turned. He flipped on his turn signal—a useless habit that he refused to break—and slowed to make the turn. A shape in his mirror shot fear through him.
They were coming.
Forgetting about the turn, Frank’s foot moved from brake to accelerator. He was too late. The car’s momentum was already taking it sideways and he lost traction on the sandy road. The back end started to drift and Frank had to steer against the skid. In an instant, his vehicle had spun around and was headed off the road.
He recognized the pursuer.
Just before his back wheel hit the ditch, he realized how stupid he had been. The car following him belonged to Dr. Matthew.
Frank’s tire was lost in mud. When he stomped on the accelerator, he heard it spattering up the side of his car. It didn’t move.
The doctor’s car came to a stop in the intersection. Behind the wheel, Dr. Matthew was waving to him. Frank shoved his door open as far as it would go and he squeezed out, ready to run. If Cirie had gotten to everyone at the meeting, there was no telling if the doctor could still be trusted.
The doctor beeped twice on his horn. Frank slowed and turned.
Dr. Matthew was still waving. That’s all it took for Frank to give in. He would never outrun a car anyway. He walked quickly over as Dr. Matthew put down his window.
“Get in. I think I know where they’re headed.”
✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪
“I watched the meeting from the second floor of that building on Pine. What did they say before they took Mary and Patrick?”
They sped up Summerhaven Road into an area with big, expensive houses. Not many people lived up there—they were too remote to be practical in the winter.
Frank searched his memory. He wanted to get the quote right.
“They took them somewhere to explain it to them.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know, but it wouldn’t surprise me if that explanation ends with some light brainwashing,” Frank said. “Who is looking over Elizabeth?”
“Jax and Amy Lynne came in.”
“They seem normal?”
“Jax said he came because gatherings are stupid. I’m paraphrasing. He used a much more rude word.”
“Sounds pretty normal.”
“For him, yes,” Dr. Matthew said. “There they are.”
He slowed down as the gray van pulled into a driveway.
“What do you think? Pull right in?” Dr. Matthew asked.
“Depends. Whatever they did to Elizabeth, it happened pretty quick. If we don’t rush the place, then we might not save Mary and Patrick.”
Dr. Matthew nodded.
“However, it is the most dangerous thing we could do,” Frank said.
“I’m the only person who can perform surgery now that Ty is gone. I feel like I’ll be safe.”
“Then drive on.”
Dr. Matthew did. They pulled into the driveway. Frank spotted someone in the woods, watching them pull up to the front of the stone house. Dr. Matthew crouched down in his seat to look up at the place through the windshield.
“Someone’s up in that window, watching us,” Dr. Matthew said.
“They’re not the only ones,” Frank said, tapping the glass of his window at a man. “I’ve never met him. You?”
He pointed at the man emerging from around the side of the giant house.
“That’s Joseph. He nearly cut off his finger last year, chopping wood.”
Dr. Matthew got out of the car and waved.
“Hey, Joseph. Have you seen Mary and Patrick? They came up with Cirie, but now I don’t even see her van.”
Frank waited until Joseph was near the hood of the car before he opened his door. He wanted to keep some metal between himself and the big man.
Joseph kept his voice low. The man was only a couple of paces away, but Frank could barely hear him.
“Sure. They’re inside. Come on in and we’ll track them down.”
“Actually, I’d appreciate it if you could bring them out, if you don’t mind. We just need to have a quick conversation with them.”
Dr. Matthew kept his eyes on Joseph while Frank circled behind the man. Frank was too old to believe that he had a chance of besting Joseph, but at the moment, he didn’t care. He only wanted to delay the man long enough for Dr. Matthew to find Mary and Patrick.
“We’ll all go in,” Joseph said.
Frank jumped him.
✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪
Dr. Matthew threw open the door and rushed into a tall vestibule. That’s where his plan ran out. He had expected to meet another guard as soon as he got through the door, so he hadn’t bothered to consider what he would do next.
Luck was on his side. A shout from deeper in the house told him exactly which archway to go through. When he heard the voice again, he recognized it. It was Mary, and her shouts were coming from a flight of stairs that curved up the left-hand wall. Dr. Matthew took them two at a time. The treads were stone and his footsteps echoed in the giant space as he climbed.
At the top of the stairs, he slowed.
He was suddenly dizzy, and had to grab the balcony railing for support. The idea of falling backwards down that curved flight of sharp, hard edges was burned into his imagination. The thought was so real that he knew it was going to happen, or maybe had already happened. He was two people—one who had caught himself on the railing, and one who had tumbled backwards, splitting his head open and watching his blood leak out on the marble below.
Dr. Matthew managed to shake off the image as he took a step forward.
He was alive. Proving the hypothesis was easy—he was walking, therefore he was alive.
Mary was arguing with someone from one of the rooms ahead. Her voice was shrill and frantic. The response was barely audible.
The doctor recognized the type of argument. It was one where his wife would say that he was being cold and distant while she was so emotional and erratic that they couldn’t stick to one subject for more than a few seconds at a ti
me. His wife, Julia, had died a year before the calamity.
He took another step.
It was a strange time to fixate on a memory of Julie.
Dr. Matthew’s foot froze in the air. Was his wife’s name Julie or Julia? Both seemed true. It didn’t matter. He had people to rescue, and from the sound of it, Mary was still fighting.
“No!” Mary said. Her voice carried through the next doorway. “I don’t care. I won’t.”
The man’s voice murmured something else to her.
Dr. Matthew felt like he was walking through molasses. His balance was gone and each step forward brought with it an involuntary step to the right. The world was spinning.
Finally, he reached the doorway.
When he saw Mary and Patrick, he wished he hadn’t.
CHAPTER 23: LONG ISLAND
BRAD LISTED A HALF-dozen or so historical points.
Ty and Tim just stared at him.
“What does this have to do with The Origin?” Tim asked.
“Probably nothing,” Romie said.
“Maybe,” Brad said, “but maybe not. The one thing I’m pretty sure of is that this is what Robby was investigating before he said that he had to go away. That kid is sharp. If he thinks it’s important, then I can guarantee that it’s important.”
“Important, sure, but connected?” Ty asked.
“We don’t even know if you’re right,” Tim said. “So what if you remember different bands at Woodstock. I couldn’t tell you for sure who is right.”
“Everyone remembers 9/11,” Brad said.
“Everyone remembers, but that doesn’t mean that everyone’s memory is flawless.”
“It was 2002,” Ty said.
“No,” Tim said. “You’re mistaken. It was 2001. It was the first year of Bush’s presidency.”
“Second,” Ty said.