by Margs Murray
My mind flashed to Bollard and Claudette, and I knew exactly where I had experienced my emotions changing out of nowhere. I didn’t like it. Gauging by his reaction, Greer must not have liked it either because he jumped back like I’d stabbed him with a tack. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know what you are. Don’t do it again, please.”
“Don’t do what again? Shake your hand or look you in the eyes?”
He knew what I was? I didn’t even know what I was at that point. He took a pair of sunglasses from his pocket. “Put these on.”
“Sunglasses in a basement?”
He nodded yes. I put them on even though the room was dark, and it seemed uncalled for. It was obviously to cover my eyes, and I remembered my cousin and my attack in Boston. The eyes must be how my awful family did this thing. After yesterday, I couldn’t blame him. This guy had come prepared. I had so many things to ask him; he obviously had answers.
An alarm sounded.
My heart pounded in my ears. Any feelings of warmth or home disappeared, replaced with dread. Greer stood up. Outside, footsteps approached our hideout. A man called out, “Canned pears, Mother?”
The door opened. They had discovered us so soon. I would go back and Bollard would force me to… no. No. I—we would have to fight. We had to. I couldn’t go back.
A portly man with a long gray ponytail smiled down into the hole. “I’m grabbing the peaches instead. I feel like peaches.”
He climbed in, and I rose to my feet, ready to run at the peach-lover if need be. Greer and the man stared each other down. The man circled swiftly and then lunged at Greer, his arms going around Greer’s waist, pulling him into a bear hug.
They both laughed. “I wasn’t sure you made it out.”
“Epps, you doubted?” The man named Epps let go of Greer.
I exhaled. This was not the enemy.
“The Libratiers have been all over the village; the whole place is crawling with them.” The man’s smile wavered. “I can’t believe you made it in. Elsa will be so happy. She has been up all night terrified for you.”
“Poor Elsa,” Greer said. “I’m sorry to involve you.”
“Don’t mention it. You’ve done the same.” He turned to me. “So this is the mission only you could accomplish, stealing a pretty young lady. My last mission included taking twenty pounds of cow livers. Some guys get all the luck. Now, no trackers yet so you’ll be safe for now, but you’ve got to hide fast.” Epps walked past me to the wall and a small shelf of jars. He knocked once on the top of the shelf, twice on the middle one, once on the left and finally two knocks on the right side. It opened. “It’s easy so I can remember it, once, twice, once, twice, top, middle, left, right.” Behind the shelf was a small hole deep and wide enough for two people to lie down. “Now, if you hear stealth like footsteps coming towards my cellar, you and the girl need to crawl into here. Go feet first so you can close the thing. Be gentle; the jars aren’t glued on. We couldn’t risk the suspicion. Well, you know how this stuff goes.”
“Thank you,” Greer said. I couldn’t imagine the danger Epps would be in if they found us. No, I could imagine it, and it made everything worse.
“No thanks needed. You’ve done the same for me.” Epps eyed me up and down briefly, his eyes narrowed. “Some outfit she’s wearing. The Libratiers will see her coming a mile away. I’ll try to rustle up something small enough for the lady. Now, you two should eat, Elsa’s peaches are the best, and the pears are good. Avoid the pickled herring. Just because you can pickle something doesn’t mean you should. I’ll be back when things are clear.”
“I owe you,” Greer said.
“You owe us nothing. Don’t think this makes us even, either—we still owe you more. Boots too; slippers aren’t good for hiking. I’ll see what I can do.” Epps climbed up the ladder, calling to his wife, “I won’t eat that herring again, you hear me, Elsa?”
“We need to eat quickly and get in the hole.” Greer pried open a jar of peaches with his pocketknife. He handed me the jar and then got one for himself. I downed the peaches more out of thirst than hunger. Greer opened the shelf.
“We better get in. Don’t forget anything,” he said, and he looked me up and down. “Wait, where’s your robe?”
I had one last large gulp. He hadn’t noticed back at the river. Crap. I should have mentioned it to him, but I was so worried about escaping, I hadn’t even thought about it. “I took it off.”
“Well, you better hide it in the hole. I don’t want to be looking for it when the Libratiers get here.”
I didn’t want to tell him but I had to. “It isn’t here.”
His brows became heavy, and he closed his eyes. “Where is it?”
“I lost it in the river.”
Greer’s hands shot into his hair, and he snorted in disbelief. “We are running from the most powerful people in the world, and you are leaving clothes like a trail straight to you. Do you want them to find you?” He paused his whispered rant. I heard nothing at first, but then I caught the light crunching and crinkling of leaves being trampled. People were walking on the ground above us.
We were at the shelf at the same time. I slid my body into the tunnel feet first, Greer next to me, and the shelf closed. My foot tapped on a glass. Greer must have thrown in our empties before we went in. I held my breath.
Through a small crack in the wood of the shelves, I saw a soldier crawl down into the cellar. I flipped my sunglasses into my hair so I could get a better look. It was Hincho. My heart fell as my teacher said, “They won’t be in here. Whoever kidnapped Waverly knew a thing or two. Medford is too close to the city. Why in the world would they go to Medford?”
“She’s probably dead in the river. Either that or they’ll ransom her off, one finger at a time,” a man said as he entered the cellar behind him.
Hincho grabbed the man by his collar. “Watch your mouth before I knock your teeth out. That girl you’re talking about isn’t just some Merric to me.”
“Settle down, boys.” A woman entered the cellar. “No one’s dumb enough to ransom off a Merric to the Merrics. Everyone knows what they can do. Only a person with a death wish would do that.”
“Death wish?” the other man replied. “You know they won’t be lucky enough to die.”
So I’ll see you in Hell, in Hell if we’re lucky enough to die. My body shook. I felt like a fool. Everyone knew more about the Merrics than me.
“Hey, grab a jar of that pickled herring. Old man Epps said it was the best in the county,” the man replied.
The woman went to pilfer a jar, and Hincho grabbed her wrist. “There’s a full meal back at L’Autre Bête. They have a chef back at the palace making dinner for the crew.”
Dinner at the castle had to be better than any pickled fish. She shook her head at him. “Let’s see who is still alive when we get back. Considering you were so close to her, you aren’t exactly off the list, Hincho.”
Through cackled laughs, the other man added, “Shows you. All those years of bragging about taking care of the long-lost princess and here you are, same as the rest of us, checking out every stinkin’ cellar, every attic. Royal guard. Well, look at you now. You’ll be lucky if they shoot you.”
Lucky enough to die. Naugle, Hincho, Wilbur, Doc, Manon, and Enzo. They were in danger from something worse than death. I felt horrible but could I sacrifice myself to protect them? Because that was what would happen. If I jumped out from behind the shelf, I’d save them all, but then what? They were, to some extent, in cahoots with Bollard. If Hincho found me, he’d take me back to Bollard, and I’d never escape again. They would kill the man for helping me. I didn’t know how much of Bollard’s plan the people at L’Autre Bête were privy to, but I had to assume they knew about Bollard's powers and his plans to use mine, whatever they were.
Still, the thoughts of what would happen to them haunted me. Bollard was a terrible person. Would Claudette finally be able to attack Manon? I hoped Manon had at least be
en able to get far enough away from Rudolf so that Bollard wouldn’t find out. Because poor Rudolf would be the fruit fly in the kitchen. And Enzo. Would Enzo be tortured for making the plans to meet with the king? Would his intestines be liquefied? I couldn’t stand thinking of him suffering like that.
Doc? What would they do to him? Doc worked with the Merrics, but I was sure he didn’t want whatever Bollard had planned to happen. He said I needed a hero, and I hoped I had one.
All of this because one stupid dinner with a man I thought was my uncle. I rolled my ring around my finger. Grandma, what have you gotten me into?
The man pushed past Hincho and shuffled three jars into his arms. “I say we grab the fish just in case. We’ll finish them off before we get back. No need to share.”
A beep went off and Hincho spoke. “Yeah, what do you want, Naugle?”
Static, and then Naugle answered, “We have a positive hit in the river.”
“What was that?”
Oh crap!
“Found her robe floating downstream.”
Hincho’s face was a sickly mess. I worried him; I wasn’t just a job. He solemnly nodded to the other soldiers.
Sadness washed over me. He was sincerely concerned I was dead.
A real part of me wanted to reach out to Hincho and tell him I was all right. Let everyone know I was all right, and to just take me home to Barton where we could get life back on track, but Bollard would never let that happen.
Boots scrambled up the ladder, and the door shut. To be safe, we stayed in the hole in case they came back.
“I was drowning in my robe.”
“You need to tell me things like that and not as an afterthought. Is there anything else I should know?” Greer’s voice was low, angry, as if I could have avoided the whole drowning thing.
“Will do next time,” I whispered. And it wasn’t like we’d had time to talk.
I thought about the bag I lost in the drain; I doubted telling him would help anything. I mean, they knew I was gone, and they knew I was near Medford.
From our hole, we heard the townspeople call out to each other. Epps yelled to one of his neighbors, “Blasted Libratiers want us all to go to the meeting hall.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“They’re flushing out the citizens, so they can check houses without them watching.”
“Is this because of the robe?”
“We better not talk.” He was right. We could talk later. What mattered now was getting as far away from Bollard as possible.
We stayed there so long, I fell asleep. Greer must have too because we were both startled when the shelf swung open. The light blinded me for the first few seconds. When my vision cleared, I saw a woman with braided hair holding up a flashlight. Greer rushed out of the tunnel to her.
“We need to get you out,” said the woman I assumed was Elsa. She hugged him and then we climbed from the cellar.
We followed her through the back door and into a tiny kitchen. Greer and I shared a small bench at the kitchen table.
Epps put a pot of soup before us. Elsa followed with empty bowls and cups. Epps handed Greer a carafe, and he poured coffee for the two of us.
Elsa and Epps sat across from us with mugs of their own. Elsa shook her head in disgust. “I would have set the table real nice for you two, made a cake, but with the Libratiers lurking around, a chocolate cake sitting on the table would keep them here for hours.”
Epps poured himself a cup of coffee. “A pot of coffee might keep them around too, but we’ll take the risk.”
Greer shook his head in disgust. “I’m sorry.”
“We’d been lost if not for you,” Epps said. “You’re as good as a son, isn’t he?”
“Potato, sweetie?” Elsa smiled and dished out the bowls of steaming white soup. Above ground, it was way too hot for soup. Their house had to be at least eighty degrees, but I took it and thanked her. Elsa was without guise, sweet, and I wondered what brought her to hating the Merrics so much that they would hide strangers in their cellar. Then again, if it was anything like my story, I didn’t want to know.
“We’re sorry we couldn’t get you earlier,” Elsa explained, as if what they had done already wasn’t enough. “The Libratiers have been all over the town taking food and clothes. I can’t believe you were once a member.”
“Compulsory, dear, like most terrible things in life,” Epps said. “Besides, things were different then.”
“Or we were different,” Elsa replied as she handed us napkins. “They were at some houses three or four times. Poor Humphry. Over six hours on the first visit and then two more hours. They set themselves up there for the night as if they thought you were going to simply march out to the river. They only checked here two times; the last time they came for more food.”
Epps took a quick swig of coffee and said, “They’re at Humphry’s because he makes his own whiskey. I’m sure they’ll look for our guests at the bottom of every barrel. May find them there too. I was clever. You’d be proud of me; I bought two barrels and opened them right there for the Libratiers. They should be drunker than a nun on Tuesday before too long.”
Greer placed his napkin in his lap like a gentleman at Sunday dinner and not like a fugitive on the run.
Epps picked up his spoon and held it over his soup. “I hired entertainment as well; keep ‘em busy. We should be covered for your big escape. I got lookouts in the town. The locals think it’s because of the bathtub gin I have in the attic, non-taxed, so you can imagine. You should be all set. And don’t you be getting worried. Elsa baked ‘em some bread. They’re hungry, you know. Hungry before even getting started. Terrible way to start a manhunt.”
“We plan on giving the boys some soup after you’re gone.” This was odd. Here they were hiding the two people they were looking for and the Epps were still going to feed them, the enemies.
“The Libratiers are with the Merrics, and they shouldn’t be taking food from the citizens. Plenty of food has been allocated for those troops, and you need that food to make it through the winter,” Greer said.
Epps shook his spoon at Greer. “No worries. People are handing supplies to them. It’s the way we are. Been that way for a long time, hasn’t it? Rich getting richer, poor giving crumbs away because they know hunger. The problem is the rich don’t know hunger and the poor don’t know full.”
“The rich don’t know when they’re full,” Elsa said between bites of soup. “Why else hoard all that they have? No, the rich are always hungry. Give the poor a meal and they are satisfied; give the rich a meal and they want more.”
Greer put down his spoon. “I’m sorry I mixed you up in all of this.”
Epps shook his head. “The time for comfortable has passed, my boy.”
“I’m afraid comfortable passed us decades ago,” Elsa said. She added, “It’s time for action.”
“And we’ve got news for you.” Epps sat forward on his seat, a smile on his face. He’d apparently been looking forward to this bit of the conversation. “Now, remember that what I’m about to tell you is halfway between mostly true and totally true.”
Epps raised his coffee to his lips and lowered it again without drinking. “The Libratiers were heading south until they found your companion’s robe. I’d tell you to head south but with Boston between us, it’s near impossible to get through the ranks. We’ll take the rest of her clothes and scatter them in the east and west; we have men ready for them tonight.”
“This isn’t what I planned,” Greer said.
“Whatever is?” Epps said, and he reached across the table to pat Greer’s arm. “You’ve got yourself in a pickle; the Libratiers are bad enough. I have word from a man in town. Trackers fly come dawn, so they’re sweeping the town in a few hours. We can’t risk keeping you in our crawlspace, so you must leave tonight, I’m afraid.”
“I guessed as much.”
“They’ll send troops in all directions. The robe has put more men on the
north road but by placing the items in all directions, it will disperse them more evenly.”
Greer shook his head. “No, the Merrics will know for sure then that this wasn’t a one-man job.”
Elsa cleared her throat. “Dear, I don’t think anyone believes one person did this. They’ll blame the Galvantry, same as always.”
“We have so far to go.” Greer’s voice was heavy with exhaustion like he’d already traveled to the moon and back again.
Epps got up from the table. “That’s all I know. Not much, but plenty to get going on. I’d ask where you were going but better I don’t know. There are people involved in the location, involved in everything, and I don’t want them on my head at night.”
Epps went into the next room and returned with a pile of army fatigues. “It was the best we could do on short notice. My old military uniform,” he said, handing me a pile of brown. “I was a thin man many years ago; just tighten the belt. Elsa, get Shawn’s coat. They have switched to black in the cities, but some country families still wear the brown.”
“Thank you,” I said, overwhelmed at the kindness and generosity of the couple.
Elsa returned with her boots and the coat. Epps and Elsa put the clothes on the table.
“I hope,” Epps said, eyeing me up and down, “I hope you are worth all this trouble, young lady.”
Greer took one look at me and flicked my sunglasses down from my head and back over my eyes. It startled me for a second. I’d forgotten they were even on my head.
Elsa didn’t notice. “Oh, leave the girl alone. He wouldn’t have saved her if she wasn’t.”