She flashed the smile that never failed to make his knees weak. Lately he had been making a point of not letting her see the effect she had on him. He had been cultivating a kind of indifference when he spoke to her, which, he hoped, gave him some leverage. If his relationship with a psychopath was going to work long term, they must be equals.
“You know the best part about those mountains? The volcanic soil. That’s coffee country, my dear.”
“Oh, now you’re talking. I wonder if there are people here. It would be easier in the beginning to raid, you know. It will take months for us to grow crops.”
“There will be plenty of food growing there already. Plantains and bananas. Lots of bananas. In this country, the seeds Ingrid gave me will thrive. We still have rations in the cargo hold and a never-ending supply of fish. We won’t have to raid.”
“Hmmm. Perhaps.” She shot him a sly look.
He pretended not to see it.
Chapter 52 – Jessie
“Thank you for letting me say goodbye to Amelia,” Jessie said to Tung.
He had been wearing his stressed-out face for several hours now, on their journey back to Cthor-Vangt. He barely looked at her from the driver’s seat. His hands held onto the steering wheel in what her daddy would have called a ‘death grip.’ His almond-shaped eyes had not crinkled at the corners for a long time. She hoped she could get him to smile at least once before they reached the elevator in the alien-looking cottonwood trees.
Thank goodness for Kenny. He had been making her laugh ever since the tearful farewell with Amelia.
“I don’t miss her nearly as much now that I got to see her and talk to her,” she continued.
Tung said nothing.
“I’m gonna miss that Cherokee chickadee,” Kenny said in his own voice from the back seat. Jessie thought he probably didn’t want to aggravate their mentor further by doing his Tung impersonation. She hoped he would do it later, though, when they were alone. It was perfect.
“Not Cherokee,” Tung said, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. “Hualapai.”
“Wall Uh Pie? Mmmm. That sounds delicious. Are there cookies in Cthor-Vangt? A brother’s gotta eat, and this little dude loves him some cookies. My favorite is chocolate chip. You’ll need to know that if you want to get on my good side.”
Jessie giggled. “The food is good. It tastes different than normal food, but you’ll like it. I’m glad you’re coming with us, Kenny. I’ll miss Harold, but I’m happy to have a new friend who’s close to my age. We’ll have lots of fun together, and the furniture is really comfortable. I’ll show you how it works when we get there.”
Kenny looked at her with sudden interest from the back seat. “Yeah, I’ll believe all that when I see it with my own peepers. If it’s true, though, and we’re the only kids in the joint, and if we’re as kick-ass awesome as everyone says, can you imagine how we’ll shake things up when we’re older?”
Jessie giggled again, despite seeing Tung’s unhappy face suddenly become even more unhappy.
Epilogue – Fergus
“Leadership suits you, but Aubrey’s desk is three sizes too small.”
Fergus sat in a chair facing Lester across the desk that had formerly held tidy stacks of inventory paperwork, but was now covered in black-and-white marbled composition books.
Lester was writing again. Perhaps when Fergus returned to visit Amelia in a year or two, the giant might let him read some of his work. He doubted it, though. Lester said his words were for him alone. It was an intriguing notion to write only for oneself. Perhaps he would try his hand at it too.
“Leadership is nothing more than utilizing the most effective methods for getting others to do your bidding,” Lester said. “A monkey could do it, if that monkey understood human nature.”
Both men glanced at the shelf in the corner which still contained psychopathy books, but many others now, too. Lester’s burgeoning library threatened to fill the entire office.
“Annabelle is just like her, you know,” Fergus said. Delivering that message was one of two tasks he intended to accomplish before leaving for Tennessee. He felt an obligation to advise his friend, who was understandably blind to the child’s predisposition.
“I realize that, of course.”
“You do? Yet you’re devoted to the child who might well murder you in your sleep.”
“She is part of the reason I let you keep your knife while you were in The Box. I wasn’t convinced my influence on her was stronger than Aubrey’s. She might kill me someday, but with a little luck and the tenacity of a patient father figure, nurture may prevail over nature. I believe I can mold the child; it is my fervent hope. I don’t intend to stay here forever...my inner introvert will demand I leave at some point. I think Annabelle will be a fine leader when that time comes.”
“Interesting. You may be right, if your nurture theory pans out. I have a question, one that has confounded me since I first discovered such a gentle, wise soul inside the body of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s much larger brother.”
“Let me guess. You wonder why I joined the Terminators to begin with, knowing of their nefarious practices.”
“That’s it exactly.”
“Once I realized what I was dealing with, I thought I might effect change from within. There were many positive things happening here. Remember when I said I may have to dispose of the sisters? I hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but in Aubrey’s case, it did. I’m glad Annabelle was there to save you, tiny man. I would have done it if she hadn’t...I had Aubrey and Annabelle both in the crosshairs of my firearm when we arrived at your execution. There will always be dragons, Fergus, even some with a benevolent side. Fortunately, there are people like us to slay them when they need slaying. I hope my answer makes sense to you.”
“Perfect sense.”
“And one dragon still remains. I expect her to return anytime now.”
“You mean Zoey?”
“Yes.”
Here was the second task: putting his friend’s mind to rest in regard to the Zoey matter.
“Lester, you will never have to worry about that dragon again. She was placed on a magnificent sailing vessel against her will, and should be somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic by now.”
Lester frowned. “I don’t think she knows how to sail. That seems a bit cruel, even for one such as her.”
“Not cruel at all. Tyler is the vessel’s captain. You know the young man?”
“Ah, of course. Yes, Tyler is one of the good ones. I wish him luck. He’ll need it. And where are you off to? I assumed you would stay with your lady friend in the Colony.”
“Alas, that is my desire, but I have other obligations.”
“Let me guess. You’re on a mission for the mysterious underground people.”
Fergus noted the derisive tone and it comforted him. It was preferable for Lester to dismiss all that Amelia had told his friend back at the Jupiter Hills Golf Club.
“You don’t believe our cover story then? What about the part where the magical little girl with the big green eyes cured you of the poison?”
“That was the most absurd story I’ve ever heard, and I’ve heard a lot of them in my time. The reason I survived the so-called poison dart is twofold: first, I’m still on the antibiotics for the gunshot wound, and second, I’ve spent the last few years building up an immunity to iocane powder.”
Fergus laughed. “Arguably the best scene in The Princess Bride. Oh, Lester, I will miss you very much. The alliance you Terminators have with the Colonists will benefit everyone. It was a savvy move for you to negotiate the treaty. I’d like to drop by for a visit when I’m back in your neck of the woods. Promise I won’t be shot on sight?”
“I make no such promises,” Lester said with a smile. “I shall miss you too, my diminutive friend. Safe travels.”
***
“Stop there. Not another step or I’ll drop you like a buzzard off a shit wagon.”
The high-pitched, tr
embling voice emanated from a thicket somewhere in the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains. Autumnal color was beginning to creep into the verdigris foliage. In a few more weeks, the red, orange, and gold leaves would be even more prolific. It was enchanting country. Fergus wondered if he would still be there in the winter to behold those misty peaks blanketed with snow.
“You realize that makes no sense,” Fergus replied to the trees. “A more logical phrasing would be, not another step or I’ll drop you like a ton of bricks! The buzzard simile has to do with pungent, off-putting aromas, not the dropping of objects or people. Anywho, I come in peace, I am unarmed, and I have much to offer your community in terms of esoteric knowledge and specialized expertise. I’m also in possession of a few Snickers bars. Stale, yes, but even stale nougat, peanuts, and chocolate are better than no nougat, peanuts, and chocolate at all. Am I right?”
Seconds ticked by. Fergus continued to stand, arms raised skyward, waiting for the buzzard-dropping shooter to emerge from the brush. When he finally did, Ferus extended his hand toward the old man wearing a weathered Tennessee Titans ball cap and holding an antediluvian shotgun.
“My name is Fergus. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”
THE END
(Until the next time...)
Dear Reader,
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Nicki Huntsman Smith
Moving With The Sun Page 28