by Logan Jacobs
“So maybe the mages talked to each other,” Sorcha suggested.
“She’s been here over a year now,” Darwin mused. “Why take so long?”
“Maybe they just now figured out where you were,” I replied.
“I was a little surprised when they didn’t rush right out here when she first escaped Camden,” Darwin admitted. “It’s not like it was any great secret that we were all related, but then I realized that my family always came here, and if they never bothered to tell anyone where I lived, well, maybe no one else in Camden knew. I started to believe that she would be okay out here.”
“What can you tell us about the jail?” I asked.
“You’ve seen the police department building if you walked out here from town,” Darwin stated.
“We have,” I agreed.
“St. John’s is the part with the offices and the public areas,” Darwin continued. “The new piece in back is where they have the cells.”
“Do you know where the doors and other entry points are?” I asked.
Darwin studied me for a moment, then finally gave me a quick smile. “You’re serious about helping her out?”
“Absolutely,” Sorcha insisted.
“Huh,” he muttered as he turned his gaze back to the woods. “Might just be able to pull it off, then.”
“I noticed they had a couple of deputies on duty outside the main door today,” I remarked.
“Chief Parker’s not a bad man,” Darwin replied. “He doesn’t believe in crowd justice, and I guess I should be grateful for that.”
“Is there another door to the jail?” I pressed.
“There’s a door on the north side of the jail,” Darwin mused. “But it’s always kept locked. It’s only opened when they’re taking someone out of the jail.”
“How much time do we have?” Sorcha asked after several minutes of silence.
“Medrick wants to act quickly,” Darwin snorted. “To reassure everyone that the Magesterium is still very much in control. And to reassure his bosses, as well. I wouldn’t give them more than a day or two before they have their paperwork in order and they trot her out to the green.”
“Not much time to plan an attack,” I noted drily.
“But I know the layout of the place,” Darwin said with a smirk. “And how they operate. Hell, I helped them build that police department at Evan’s urging. Should have stayed in my hole instead of listening to that old coot.”
I tried not to laugh because Darwin sounded very much like Evan when he said that. I saw Sorcha had a grin as well, and Darwin eyed us both with a suspicious glare. I started to explain, then stopped and turned to look toward the trees once more.
“I think we’re about to get some more company,” Darwin said as he stood up.
It had been a faint noise at first, the clink of metal and a steady hum, the types of sounds that aren’t normally part of a bucolic scene. But even as we stood up, the noise grew louder and moved closer. It quickly resolved itself into the sound of people moving along the rutted path. And not just a few people either; it sounded like half the town was picking its way along the old road, though how they could all fit on the weed infested track was a mystery to me.
As the first of the locals marched into the clearing, the rain began to come down harder. The grassy field quickly turned muddy as more and more feet tramped across it, and soon the only thing we could see was a swath of angry faces, all directed toward us.
Chapter 12
Darwin scowled at his neighbors and started to turn toward the door to the shack, but Sorcha placed a hand on his arm and gave a slight shake of the head.
“If they don’t already know about your weapons, then you don’t want to give them another reason to hate you right now,” she said in a low voice.
Darwin pulled his arm free, but he didn’t make another move toward the rifle he had left inside the shack. Instead, he lifted his chin, crossed his arms, and stared defiantly at the people of Motown.
“What the hell are you doing on my property?” he demanded.
“You brought the mutant here,” an unhappy man in a moth-eaten cape snapped in a high-pitched voice.
“I brought my granddaughter here,” Darwin replied angrily. “After she was chased from her home by a bunch of close-minded bigots who thought she was perfectly charming until they found out she had a tail.”
“She’s a murderer,” a blonde woman with a double chin and ample bosoms declared.
“Then prove it,” Darwin snapped back. “You know you can’t, but you’ll let that twit of a priest of yours string her up anyway so you can go back to pretending that you’re safe in your homes.”
The crowd stirred restlessly, and some of the more adventurous souls took a few steps toward the old plank crossing. Darwin stomped across the porch which made the whole framework quake, and planted himself at the foot of the little bridge.
“This is private property,” Darwin declared. “And you’re all trespassing. So turn yourselves around and go back to your sorry lives, and maybe I won’t send the Chief out to arrest you.”
“We deserve answers,” a man in a business suit demanded. He had mud on the edge of his pant legs, and a small river of water was pouring from the back of his hat.
“About what?” Darwin retorted. “About how my granddaughter was the fastest runner on her team, or how she won an award for her poetry? Because if you’re expecting me to tell you she’s some terrible creature that will sneak into your houses and kill you, you won’t get that.”
The crowd went quiet for a moment, and a few people looked uncomfortably at the crowd, like they weren’t sure why they were there.
“You have guns,” a timid voice called out from somewhere near the back.
The crowd roared its agreement, and once again, everyone turned their focus back to Darwin.
“This again,” Darwin huffed.
“You used to carry them when you were a deputy in the pre-magic world,” the businessman pointed out. “We’ve all heard you tell those stories.”
“What do guns have to do with my granddaughter?” Darwin demanded.
There was a moment of confusion, and then someone started to push their way to the front of the crowd. Darwin stiffened and I could see why. The person who emerged from the crowd wore a light brown slouch hat with a brass star. There was no doubt this person was part of the local police department.
“Sorry, Charles,” the deputy said. “Word spread that I was coming out here. They got themselves worked up and started off while I was still meeting with the Chief.”
“Then you can remove them from my property while you’re here,” Darwin retorted.
“I will make sure they all leave,” the deputy agreed. “But I do need to ask about your guns.”
I fought the urge to turn around and look at the shack and to keep my hands from the pocket where the snub nose still rested.
“I’ve been over this how many times with you people?” Darwin snapped. “I don’t have any guns. And what does this have to do with my granddaughter’s arrest?”
The deputy shuffled his feet and looked uncertainly at the crowd.
“Oh, hell, Fishman,” Darwin barked, “they’ve obviously already heard. Apparently, I’m the only one who hasn’t. So please, enlighten me.”
“There were two more mutants found yesterday, out by the Bennett place,” the deputy replied.
“I did hear that,” Darwin admitted as he glanced at me and Sorcha. “I heard they were dead.”
“They were,” the deputy agreed. “But... the Chief says it was gunshots that killed them.”
The crowd, which had remained quiet through the exchange, began to hiss and murmur, and I saw a few of the younger men start to pick up rocks.
“And?” Darwin demanded as he ignored the crowd.
“And the Chief thinks your granddaughter used one of your guns to kill them,” the deputy finished.
“Why would she do that?” Darwin laughed.
/>
“So they wouldn’t reveal she was a mutant,” the deputy explained.
“But it’s not a crime to kill a mutant,” Darwin pointed out, “so what is she being charged with?”
Deputy Fishman opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it while he tried to think of an answer.
“She’s working for a black mage,” the businessman insisted.
The deputy shrugged, as if that was as good a reason as any.
“What the hell are you doing here, Fishman?” Darwin demanded.
“I’ve come to arrest you,” the deputy admitted. “For harboring a mutant and possession of banned firearms.”
“Good luck with that,” Darwin snorted.
An angry murmur swept through the crowd at that, and Deputy Fishman glanced anxiously between the two sides.
“Charles,” the deputy sighed.
“You people have searched this property dozens of times,” Darwin pointed out. “Have you ever found a gun?”
“No,” the deputy admitted.
“So what makes you think you’ll find one this time?” Darwin demanded.
“Maybe you should go back to the police department,” Sorcha said into the sudden silence. Her voice had dropped a register and taken on a very soothing tone. “Send these people home, and then you can go discuss this with the Chief.”
“Discuss it with the Chief,” Fishman repeated.
“Ask him where he thinks Darwin has hidden his guns,” Sorcha suggested.
Darwin looked as if he was about to say something, so I quickly shook my head.
“I’ll ask the Chief where he thinks you would hide the guns,” Fishman stated.
“You’ll come back later, after you’ve made sure everyone in the crowd has gone back to the town,” Sorcha continued.
“Hey!” someone protested.
“I’ll send everyone back to town,” Fishman declared. “And then I’ll come back to talk to you.”
“Fine,” Darwin replied.
“Alright, people,” Fishman yelled. “You folks need to get on out of here. You’ve got no right to be here, so that makes it a matter of trespassing.”
“But aren’t you going to arrest him?” someone demanded.
“When I’ve got my proof,” Fishman responded as he started to push a few of those closest to the bank of the pond back toward the road. “Once we have the guns, we can bring him in.”
“But what if he comes after us in the night?” the busty blonde demanded.
“We’ll have people watching him and watching the town,” the deputy assured her. “Now, you folks need to get moving.”
The crowd grumbled, but I caught Sorcha’s frown and knew she was trying to convince some of the other people in the crowd to leave. It was a trickle at first, as those who had looked less sure about being here led the way along the track. The deputy kept pushing and Sorcha murmured in her hypnotic voice until even the most stubborn townsman had finally turned his back on us and trudged back through the trees to the Lewiston Road.
“That’s a neat little trick,” Darwin commented when the only sounds to be heard were the frogs and the birds.
“It won’t keep them away forever,” Sorcha replied. “They’ll come back.”
“Then we should probably grab what we can and move on,” Darwin replied. “I’ve got a camp we can use for now until we’re ready to break Freya out of jail.”
“We’ll help you carry stuff,” I said as I glanced toward the shack.
“I’m sure you will,” Darwin snorted as he caught my look. He ducked back into the shack and collected the rifle, then started down the gangway.
“Nice try,” Sorcha snickered as she trailed after the ex-trooper.
“It was worth a shot,” I sighed as I followed her.
Darwin led us back to the underground home he shared with his granddaughter. We followed him down the steps again, though the door stayed open this time. He went toward the kitchen first and handed Sorcha a large sack and told her to start filling it with whatever food she could find. Then he pulled me back toward the two storage units I’d seen before. He fumbled with a switch on the wall in the first room and studied the boxes piled there.
“Ammo,” he murmured as he handed me a heavy box, “arrows for the bow and m-r-e’s.”
Another box was added to the one I had in my arms, and then he clicked off the light and went into the next storage room. The itch in my palm was nearly unbearable as I followed him through the door, and I knew this was the room with the rest of the guns.
Darwin piled another pair of boxes onto my already weighty load, then grabbed a pair of cases from one of the shelves. He stepped back into the hallway and turned off the light in the storage room before I could stumble across the floor and back into the buzzing light of the hallway.
“Food?” Darwin yelled out as he picked up the bow that Freya had carried when we first met her. I saw him slip the rifle into the quiver, and I nearly volunteered to carry the bow and arrows as well, just so I could be close to the gun.
“I think I’ve got everything,” Sorcha replied as she shuffled from the kitchen with the sack in her arms.
“Then let’s get going,” Darwin ordered as he started up the stairs.
Sorcha and I watched him disappear through the door in confusion until his face reappeared and he held out a hand.
“Hand me the sack,” he instructed.
Sorcha lifted the bag as far as she could, and Darwin grabbed it with both hands. He tugged it over the edge, then held a hand out for Sorcha. She quickly climbed up the steps, then disappeared from view as she stepped to the side.
I set the boxes on the ground first, then handed them to Darwin one by one. When the last box had made it to the top, I clambered up the steps and back into the rain. Darwin nodded, then dropped the door back into place. This time, though, he slipped his hand beneath the latch and I heard a lock click into place.
“Don’t want anyone ransacking the place,” he said when he stood up. “Now, stay close by and watch your step.”
This last bit was added as Darwin handed me a stack of boxes once again before he slung the bag of food over his own shoulder and grabbed the cases. He looked at Sorcha for a moment, and she quickly snatched up the bow and quiver. Satisfied that we had everything, Darwin walked off into the mist and rain, and promptly vanished from view. Sorcha and I exchanged looks, then quickly darted off in the direction we’d seen the ex-trooper take.
“I warned you to stay close,” Darwin grunted when we finally got up to him.
“We will,” I quickly assured him.
He grunted again, then suddenly peeled off into the woods. If there was a trail he was following, I couldn’t see it. But then, I couldn’t see much of anything over the boxes I carried. I stumbled along and tried not to trip over a tree root or slip and fall on a pile of wet leaves, both of which became more difficult the deeper we ventured into the forest.
We finally stepped into a clearing, and I realized that the rain had started to come down harder. It pelted me in the face and the back of my neck, despite the hat and jacket I wore, and I could feel it dribble down my back beneath my shirt. Without even looking, I knew the hem of my pants were probably muddy, and my boots would need a good scrubbing. I glanced toward the sky, but there was nothing but dark clouds to be seen.
“Now what?” Sorcha asked as she looked around.
The clearing where Darwin had led us to was the edge of more bog, and the ground we stood on was quickly turning to soup beneath our feet. The only direction that even seemed viable was the one we had just come from, but Darwin moved toward the edge of the water without hesitation. He barreled through a layer of reeds and cattails, and then I heard his boots step onto wood.
Sorcha and I exchanged glances, then followed more carefully through the mud. We found the small wooden platform easily enough, and I set the boxes I carried on the planks next to the sack and cases that Darwin had lugged through the woods.
; “Give me a hand,” Darwin ordered when I straightened up.
It took a moment, but I realized he had a small boat hidden in the growth. It was covered with a camouflage tarp and tied down to the dock. I removed the tarp while Darwin righted the boat and dropped it into the water.
“We’ll be able to lose them as we move deeper into the swamp,” Darwin noted as he started to pack our supplies into the boat. “There’s not one of them that knows this area as well as I do.”
“Won’t this make it harder to get back to the town?” Sorcha asked.
“We’ll actually be closer to the town,” Darwin laughed. “But they won’t figure it out, as long as we’re careful.”
With that, Darwin helped Sorcha into the boat, and then gave me an impatient look when I didn’t immediately leap into the boat as well. I clambered in and took a seat next to the Irishwoman. Darwin grunted, then stepped into the boat. He handed me one of the paddles that had been stowed under the benches, then sat down at the front of the boat with the other paddle.
The trip through the swamp was one of the quieter and more eerie ones I’ve ever taken. There was little sound beyond the noise of our paddles as we dipped them into the water, and even that was muffled by the fog that hid everything from view except the largest of the trees. The boat scraped against skeletal branches and floating driftwood, though it was impossible to see anything in the water before we hit it. Despite Darwin’s assurances that he knew where he was going, it was impossible to tell where we were. Whatever landmarks might exist were lost in the rain, the mist, and the clouds that seemed to have moved closer to the earth.
Darwin stopped paddling at one point, and we started to drift in the slow pace of the water. He peered into the dense fog, as if he could somehow see through it, then leaned over the edge of the boat and studied the water. Apparently satisfied with what he had found, he started to paddle again, this time toward the bugle call of a crane.