by A N Sandra
Many times in his twelve years, Jurgon had felt genuinely suffocated by the close care he received in the colony. Even though the older members often promised the young quarter-Eternal children that their mortal mothers truly could not have cared for them and kept them alive, Jurgon had wished for his birth mother with anguished, tormented thoughts until those thoughts were banished by deep longing to be held by a beautiful woman in a non-maternal way. Jurgon had wanted to go where he wanted and do what he wanted, but when the Blood Drinkers invaded Atlantis, he had been forced by years of social conditioning to help defend the colony rather than try to escape and be free. That had been a big mistake.
The colony had gone down in flames, with only a few buildings left in spite of the fact that it began to rain after years of drought late in the evening of the attack. Most of the residents of the colony had been drained of their blood and discarded in various disgusting ways, but the Blood Drinkers had kept a few colony members alive for careful questioning. Jurgon had been spared (for now), and he had been made to read Golda’s research notes out loud to three of the Blood Drinkers in her lab. Jurgon alone could decipher Golda’s handwriting, and that had spared him the fate of those poor departed souls whose broken bodies lay in the mud that was beginning to overtake the burned nasty mess of the colony.
Hours at a time, Jurgon read Golda’s notes to his captors, often jealous of his dead fellow colonists who had at least met their end quickly, albeit violently. The idea that his death might be even more unpleasant seemed more and more likely. As Jurgon read, the Blood Drinkers fixed their horrible bottomless eyes on him, drinking in his words with attention that Jurgon had never been able to pay to Golda. He knew she wouldn’t like it though. She would be angry at her hard work being shared with the vandals that had torn the world apart, unleashing things that should be hidden, their snakes never leaving their sides, even though they had wings and could fly when they wished.
Jurgon had seen those “snakes” drink blood, just the same as their masters. Nothing was worse than watching people who had been washing your clothes and cooking your food and teaching you to grow vegetables be destroyed. There was no good way out of this scenario, Jurgon was certain. He hoped to die fighting, but somehow he didn’t die, he just kept reading Golda’s notes to the horrible men who stood apart from him, never tiring.
At last there were no more notes to read. Nothing at all could be added to what had been read. Jurgon himself could not really comprehend the words. He’d only had three hours of sleep since Sith had been crushed by falling rubble and the hoard had fought to drink his blood. Watching Sith become part of the dreaded enemy had caused the part of Jurgon that could always pursue what he wanted to shrivel up. No matter how much he tried to summon his determined spirit again, he could not. He had read to the Blood Drinkers; he had offered up Golda’s most personal thoughts to them. Although Golda’s notes were boring as hell, Jurgon felt deep disloyalty to someone he had never liked. She had been tired of him before she really knew him, and he had been tired of her before that.
“Leave us,” the tallest Blood Drinker told Jurgon. “Don’t go far.”
Jurgon wanted to eat, but the refectory was in ruins. It was still ingrained in him to walk in that direction when hungry, however, so he moved that way. As he walked through the rain, he saw that most of the corpse pieces that had been littering the compound were covered with mud that had seeped up through pebbles covering the grounds. It was almost like water was coming from below ground as well as above ground, but he couldn’t be sure. He knew his mind was no longer working clearly.
At the refectory ruins a raw potato was swimming in the mess. Jurgon seized it, held it up to the rain to wash it off, and ate it as if it were an apple. Four days ago, the porridge wasn’t sweet enough.
Jurgon could see that making a break for the mainland or even taking his chances on the open sea would be impossible. The snakes had sunk every boat the hoard had come upon. The Blood Drinkers were turning on their own hoard, draining their blood at will now that they were trapped on the island. After consuming the potato Jurgon was much clearer headed and could sense that he was not safe so far from the lab. He turned back to wait on the long marble steps to the lab.
Jurgon sat on the step a long time wishing for another potato. He fell asleep against the door even though he was soaked to the bone with the rain. It wasn’t really cold, just really wet. When he woke, it was dark outside. It was hard to believe that the Blood Drinkers had not opened the door and disturbed his slumber. What were they doing in there?
The night wore on. Jurgon couldn’t sleep more; he just got wetter. Water was seeping up from under the step. It covered the step. In misery, Jurgon decided he must know what they were doing in the lab. He was up to his knees in water and could no longer sit on the step safely. If he fell asleep again he might drown.
Cracking open the door slightly, Jurgon was surprised that he was not instantly discovered and drained of blood. Instead he saw that none of the Blood Drinkers or the horrible winged serpents had seen him at all. They were working in the lab. They were not any different from Golda in their intense concentration. Unlike Golda, who had made her own discoveries, they had absorbed Golda’s notes, and they were making more boxes. Just as Wesslan and Celeste had feared, the Blood Drinkers’ snakes were going to be contained in the boxes, no matter what came.
Jurgon wasn’t sure if he was more afraid, or sad. There was nothing he could do. Tears ran down his face as he waded into the dark night, alone for the moment, but not for long.
“I don’t know where they went,” Barden admitted to Ursu as the two of them woke up at the top of a grain silo where they had taken refuge so they would not be covered with water as they slept.
When they had gone to sleep, Golda and Cattu had been next to them on the slightly pointed roof that had been wide enough for all of them to stretch out. Golda and Cattu were going to keep watch while Barden and Ursu slept and then the favor would be repaid. Except that hours had passed and Barden and Ursu had woken up, wet even though they had been covered with what they thought should be a waterproof tarp, and Golda and Cattu were gone.
Barden knew that Ursu had powers of vision that exceeded his own, and if Ursu could see Golda and Cattu he would have let Barden know. The clouds were so thick that even though Barden was sure the glow behind them was the sun, it wasn’t enough light to look for them.
“The water is almost here,” Barden said to Ursu, the way he had told Ursu things that Ursu already knew when he was a heedless four-year-old. He felt like that four-year-old now, who hoped Father would come back soon and that Mother would make a tasty pudding before bed. Life had been very simple for him then. Explore what he could, fight every limit imposed on him, sleep only when forced to, and wait to see what would happen next. It appeared that life had become that simple again.
His beautiful children flashed through his memory. They had been energetic, but keeping them alive had given him purpose. He’d loved them so deeply. So had Elania, his delicate mother. She’d loved them, but helping keep them alive had brought her to an early death. The children had worn her out. One of his children was at Noah’s compound. Barden hoped Noah had a plan for dealing with the water.
“You could swim to the compound,” Barden told Ursu as he realized it. Ursu was a very strong swimmer. “They might be fine there. I want you to go. You could bring me back help, or if the water is too high by the time you find it and you’re sure I’m gone, you could stay and be safe.”
Ursu gave no indication that he had heard such foolishness. In fact, Ursu snuggled closer to Barden. There was no help for it. They would be underwater in less than six hours if the rain kept on at the current pace. Ursu wouldn’t leave. He was the same faithful bear who played with him for hours, listened to him make music, and helped him avoid flying snakes and their owners.
“You are my best friend,” Barden spoke his last words to Ursu before lying back on the roof to give up. �
��I love you.”
Chapter 26
December 29th, Interior Alaska Homestead
Helena hadn’t expected the dry run to be so stressful. Mr. Todd had a stopwatch that he ran the whole time he was getting things out of their packaging and directing people what to do and what to hold and where to stand.
“Lourdes, I need you to fit this right into this—”
“Peter, pay attention!”
“Ray, are you looking at me? Really? What are you doing?”
“Joel, hold my computer higher—”
The whole practice session took adrenaline that Helena hadn’t used for a long time. Not since shooting her moose at least. Christina madly typed information as if it were the real deal. Miss Jan moved stealthily according to her husband’s directions. No one smiled for two hours as they set up and tore down the cell tower in the snow outside the storage room.
“Your dad is really intense when he works,” Helena commented to Duane when they were walking back to their houses for lunch, before heading to the wilderness to set up the tower.
“He is serious about this,” Duane said. “If we get traced to this location…”
“I know,” Helena said. She didn’t really know what would happen, though. Would they all be killed in the Alaskan winter just for existing outside the will of the new powers that controlled the world? It seemed impossible to believe.
“I’m going to help you keep on track, but this whole afternoon is going to be crazy. I need to help my dad more than anything else.” Duane sounded so serious that Helena’s stomach quivered.
“I get it,” she said. “It’s a big deal.”
Helena ate a tuna fish sandwich for lunch, marveling at how she had eaten fresh trout all summer and never appreciated it quite the same way as she did when she had to eat mushy tuna. The claim on the can that it had been packed in spring water was quite funny, because there was no way the tuna had been packed with the same fresh water that came from the mountain valley stream.
“It’s pretty dark, I’m taking my headlamp,” Christina said. She was already wearing boots and her huge parka with a fur liner. Her headlamp was strapped around her hair and she was holding a headlamp out to Peter. She looked at Helena. “You want one?”
“Sure.” Helena smiled. It felt great to be doing something proactive for the world outside, but it was going to be a tense afternoon.
At the storage building Mr. Todd handed out bundles for everyone to carry. He had rigged them so that the bundles could be slung along their backs.
“Let’s move out,” Mr. Todd finally said when everyone had their bundle loaded onto their back and he had checked and rechecked a checklist from a clipboard.
Helena found the fact that Mr. Todd had brought a clipboard into the wilderness wildly amusing, but she didn’t feel calm enough to make any jokes about it. She looked at Duane to get a sense of his mood, but he looked so serious that she was not reassured.
The day was dark and overcast as the group followed Mr. Todd on snow shoes. Most of them were wearing headlamps and the lights bobbed around ahead of them in random patterns. The lights fell on animal tracks that speckled the otherwise pristine snow.
Helena was already tired by the time they began to climb the hill Mr. Todd had selected to erect the tower on. She had been mixed up on when to sleep and when to be awake for weeks. Now her legs felt heavy and she was fighting to stay awake. Of all the times for her body to betray her, this was the worst. She wished she had brewed some coffee during lunch.
“Set your bundles down and be ready to follow instructions,” Mr. Todd said as they all gathered nervously at the top of the hill.
“Lourdes, bring your bundle here,” Mr. Todd said. He opened the bundle she carried and began to assemble things inside it. “Joel, open your bundle.”
Joel opened the bundle that had been on his back and laid out the things that had been in it as if he were a surgical assistant. Duane hovered over him looking for an opportunity to be helpful. Helena felt her heart beating in her chest even as she struggled to stay awake.
“Oh, shit!”
Everyone looked at Peter, who had spoken. Then everyone followed Peter’s gaze. A huge grizzly bear was standing at the edge of the clearing looking at them.
“Just keep working,” Joel told everyone. “We must have woken it up, but it’s going to have to decide we’re a poor target. There are too many of us.”
“Did anyone bring a gun?” Helena asked.
“I didn’t,” Duane said. He looked like he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought to bring one.
“I didn’t either,” Miss Jan said. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not going to attack. Just do what we are supposed to do.”
Lourdes looked hopefully at the bear and Helena wanted to shake her fiercely. “It’s not a pet!” Helena hissed. “Don’t encourage it!”
“I just want to see it,” Lourdes answered. “It’s not like I could call it over here and it would come.”
“That better not happen,” Helena warned, although she knew Lourdes would certainly tempt a bear toward them with any cookies or treats she could find in her daypack if she wasn’t supervised.
Piece by piece the tower went up and finally Mr. Todd had the laptop out to make his transmission. He knelt on a tarp hunched over the laptop. Everyone milled around nervously waiting to take the tower down the minute he was done. The bear walked back into the forest, but somehow everyone knew it was still keeping an eye on things.
“We’re online,” Mr. Todd announced.
A cheer went up from their small crowd. The bear finally headed back to its home for more winter slumber. Everyone could hear it now as it slogged away from them.
Mad typing sounds came from the keyboard as Mr. Todd worked feverishly to broadcast his messages to the chosen people. The only other sounds were people breathing. Ray began to wander away.
“The bear!” Joel reminded him.
“I’m going in the other direction from the bear,” Ray said. “I have to go. Do you mind?”
“Be quick,” Joel said to Ray’s already departing form.
Mr. Todd finally stood up.
“Our small rebel base has made a strike against the Death Star,” he announced to more cheering. “Let’s pack it up and go home!”
Mr. Todd fired off directions more good-naturedly and the tower was neatly packed back into the same bundles much more quickly than it had been assembled. Ray reappeared and the bear stayed gone. Everyone was in better spirits and Helena felt much more awake. As they headed toward home Helena and Duane lingered behind the group, just enjoying walking next to each other.
“Ray!” Helena called. “You dropped something.”
She stepped forward to pick up the black object her headlamp had highlighted in the snow. It was his e-reader for school. “You couldn’t even go on this one mission without being able to play a game?”
Duane seized the e-reader from her hand as Ray reached for it.
“Give me that!” Ray demanded.
“Not so fast,” Duane said in a cold voice Helena had never heard before. “Everybody! Stop for a minute!”
“Duane, we need to keep moving, there’s a storm coming, remember?” Miss Jan called back over her shoulder. No one else hesitated. They kept walking forward while Ray lunged for the e-reader that Duane held out of his reach. Duane pushed Ray back into the snow with one strong arm.
“That’s mine!” Ray floundered in the snow.
“Shut up,” Duane said in the same frightening cold voice. Helena knew something was wrong. Duane never spoke like that and he certainly never pushed anyone around. With the wind lightly whipping snow around him Duane examined the screen of the e-reader while Ray stood nervously, obviously making a plan to get his e-reader back.
“Dammit!” Duane cursed. “Dad! Get back here now!”
Mr. Todd was so far ahead that Helena was surprised he heard Duane, but he turned into the wind. Christina and Joel both stopped walkin
g.
“Give it back!” Ray made one more attempt to wrestle the e-reader from Duane, who skillfully backhanded Ray, sending him several feet backward into the deep snow.
“Hey!” Joel Harris was angry. “No reason for this, whatever the trouble is can be dealt with back home.”
Even in the dark Helena could see tears on Ray’s face. Lourdes was frozen, looking at him, not knowing what to do. Mr. Todd reached Duane, who handed the e-reader to him.
“It says ‘Message received’,” Mr. Todd said in a horrible voice.
“Ray,” Joel’s voice sounded like he was being choked, “what have you done?”
“Nothing!” Ray insisted. “I don’t know what their problem is!”
“Read this,” Duane held out the e-reader to Joel Harris to read. Joel exhaled as if he had been punched.
Helena had a sick feeling in the deepest part of her stomach.
“He sent an email to his father asking him to come bring him home!” Duane announced to the group. Except for Lourdes, the whole group turned on Ray like a pack of wolves.
“It’s already been received,” Mr. Todd said in a tone of voice that Helena had never heard from his mouth before. “We’ll have to deal with it when we get back. Right now, we do need to get home before the storm comes.”
Helena could feel the change in the air pressure that had happened just since they began walking down the hill and everyone else nodded before turning back. Ray ran down the path awkwardly with his snowshoes flipping snow as he moved. Helena thought she had never hated someone as much as she hated Tawna when Tawna made her give her room to Lourdes after Joel and Tawna married, but there was a new loathing in her heart for the stupidity of Ray.
“Did you think it was a game?” Christina demanded as soon as they were in the storage building.
Ray had tried to run to Tawna to be saved, and Lourdes tried to slip away herself, but Joel had caught Ray by the arm and Mr. Todd and Duane neatly corralled Lourdes, steering them into the storage building.