by E. A. Darl
Mitch thought she might actually have jumped out of the car at that point, had Alexa not been in the back. Her hand even strayed to the handle.
He kept his eyes fixed on the empty highway, careful to not look at either girl as he phrased his next question. “What happened that night? Do you feel you can share it with me, after all this time? The police never solved the case.” I never solved the damn case, although I really tried.
Alexa stared at the partially eaten apple in her hand, and then put it down on top of the lunch box, linking her fingers in her lap. Suddenly, it did not taste so sweet. Tears threatened but did not spill. The memories were so raw that her throat tightened painfully even after so much time had passed. It was Avalon who spoke again, who took the reins of the wild memories that were threatening to bolt and carry the girls away with the bit between their teeth.
“They came at supper time, you know. Mom had just put the last plate of food on the table, when the doorbell rang. My father got up and went to the door, while we piled our plates with food. We heard voices and then they became angry. I will never forget my mother’s face. She frowned at first, sending a worried glance in the direction our father had disappeared, and then she got this frightened look on her face. She turned to us and grabbed both of us by a hand, and dragged us to the cellar door. ‘Do you remember everything we told you? Today is the day. Go to the hiding place. Go now and bolt the door behind you. Go!’
“We hurried down into the cellar, leaving the lights off, and grabbed a flashlight sitting on a ledge. We ran through the dim interior to the door of the fruit cellar and dashed inside it, closing the door behind us and sliding the lock from the inside. It would look like the door was locked from the outside. We then shoved aside a burlap sack of carrots, and pulled up a hatch in the floor, on the top of which a crate was nailed. We scrambled down the staircase and closed the lid. The door disappeared under the wooden crate, which was stuffed with straw. The earthen cellar had a back exit but we did not go outside. Mom had told us we must not leave until long after dark if we ever had to hide, as there would be people searching for us. So we hid. We did not come out for a full three days; we were so scared, preferring to sleep on the cots in the shelter. That was the last we saw of our parents. Albert and Ellen Gainsborough were never seen again. They were scientists, you know.”
Mitch nodded. He had done an extensive background check into the Gainsborough family as part of his investigation. The family had lived at the manor for four generations. The one hundred acre parcel was handed down generation to generation until Albert inherited it upon his father’s death, but Albert had had no interest in farming. He had attended Solace University, named for the capital city in which it was located. There, he had earned his PhD in Environmental Chemistry, the scientific study of the chemical and biochemical phenomena that occur in natural places. There Albert had met the love of his life, Ellen Despina, a co-ed Biology major, first in her class and specializing in Entomology. Their return to the farm had a much greater focus, for they set up experiments to determine why the land was dying, right on their own farm. They combined their knowledge and expertise. From all accounts, they were developing an expertise that was promising. They were able to grow crops when the other farms around them had failed and were being abandoned in record numbers. There had even been rumors about the government approaching them to offer them both big money contracts to move to the city, but they had declined all offers to continue their private studies and experimentation, and to raise their two daughters on the family farm.
“I met them once,” said Mitch. “It was at a fundraiser for the local homeless shelter, one Christmas.” The homeless shelter was boarded up now. There was no one left to run it. Even the homeless had moved on, those who would have been named homeless before the drought. Now, only the gangs remained. “They were great. I know they loved you, very much.”
Alexa sniffed from the back seat but that was the only comment.
“Do you know who came to the door that night?” he continued. “Did you get a look at them?”
“No. We never saw their faces. But we know who they were.”
Mitch stiffened at these words. Perhaps he was going to find out, after all these years, a clue to the cold case that had haunted him for so long. He had solved half of it by picking up Avalon. He had found the missing Gainsborough children.
“Who were they?”
“Agents of the government. They worked for ESSA, the Edible Sustenance and Security Agency.”
“How do you know this?”
“My dad left this behind.” Avalon gestured to her sweater, holding up a sleeve. On the sleeve was a patch with a stylized black bee, stitched onto a golden background. “It was his favorite coat. He would never have left it behind, other than to give us warning. Besides, when the coast was clear, I picked it up from the end of our parent’s bed, where he left it. I found a note in a secret pocket. He had told us, if he ever went missing, to find his jacket.”
Mitch braked and pulled the car into a roadside rest station, coming to a halt with a jerk. A cloud of dust drifted away on the slight breeze as he turned to face Avalon directly. “Do you still have this letter?”
“Yup, its right here.” Alexa spoke from the backseat, pulling a small envelope from her pocket and handing it to Mitch.
Chapter 7
The Letter
“MY DARLING DAUGHTERS,” he read.
“I wish that it were not so, but if you are reading this, our worst fears have been realized. You have been too young to understand the importance of our work, and of what your mother and I discovered during the last ten years that we spent farming at the manor. I know it is the only home you have known, and for much of my life that has been the case also. Around twenty years ago, long before you were born, I was a young, ambitious man, who chafed at the idea of farming for a living. I had finished high school top in my class and was intent on choosing the career that I would like to pursue. My parents only wanted one thing — for me to stay and take over the family farm.
“The last few years of planting, before I left for university, were unusually difficult for your grandparents. They struggled to plant and grow a harvest as they always had done as Manor Gainsborough was renowned for its fertile soil. However, the land was failing and by failing I mean that, year by year, it was transforming from the lush, fertile pastures and fields of my childhood, into a hostile, environment, poisonous to all living things.
“But it was not just our farm, but our neighbours’ farms too. The change occurred subtly at first and then with increasing speed. Your grandfather changed his mind and begged me to go to school, to learn from the University in Solace and from the government instructors there. There were rumours that they had discovered the cause of the plague that was spreading across the land. So, along with many of the brightest from our community, I went off to university, to study ecological chemistry, for I was certain that the issue was something to do with an imbalance in the soil.
“As you know, I met your mother there and we fell in love. Long hours we spent pouring over our books, for our classes dovetailed in many areas. It did not take long for us to discover similar veins of thought incorporated into both of our fields of study. It also became apparent that the University was being told to neither discuss nor lecture about certain controversial government activities that the ecology movement on campus wished to expose. Mainly this centered around mining activities where minerals and oil were being extracted from the earth by a process called fracking. Fracking involves utilizing hydraulic pressure to break up rock and extract precious resources. The process has been fraught with controversy, but continued to be utilized, nevertheless.
“But what your mother and I discovered was a correlation between the fracking activities of the government-run oil companies and the flora and fauna on the surface above these locations. At first, we thought that what the data suggested was an error, but the more we ran the data, the truer it became.
The margins of error in our findings became so slim that eventually, we drove out to one of the nearby facilities to check our information in real-time, only to be turned away by armed security before we could even get close to the site.
“So instead, we graduated, married and brought our hypothesis home, to test it in our own backyard. Your grandparents lived on with us for a few years before they passed away and you were both born to the farmstead, the next generation of Gainsborough Manor.
“As soon as we returned, we tested our theories. Something was killing the soil and the insect life that is so necessary to a robust and healthy ecology. We continued our investigations, begun in the lab and recreated in both the experiments and in our university facilities in the manor. Our lab was equal to and maybe exceeded that which was available at Solace University. We perfected our method, testing and retesting. When the data from our home lab was replicated, we became convinced of the cause and launched controlled experiments at home, to reverse its effect. You must now be wondering what it is we found out through our meticulous study?
“What we found, my darling daughters, is that the fracking operations undertaken by the government had released a toxin that had long lain dormant deep under the crust of the earth. This toxin has been found in the fossil remains of dinosaurs and is thought by many, to be the true reason for their demise. This newly released and unstoppable toxin was also spreading like a plague. We dubbed the substance “Bonesick” because it killed everything exposed to it, until only bones remained. Carried by mosquitoes of the day, it spread through the blood and made any animal bitten ill. Bugs embedded in amber were carriers of the disease, specifically the Dinotick, five times larger than its modern counterpart.
“So we, being the scientists that we are, set about developing a counter agent that would neutralize the toxin that has no known antidote in our modern times. We experimented with a counteractant that would make the toxin inert, wherever it was found. We nicknamed it Caladrius. Caladrius is a snow-white bird that legend says lives in kings' houses. It is said that the Caladrius can take on the sickness of a person, and then fly away, casting the sickness to the air and healing all in the process. We created a Caladrius, a healing agent that is dispersible in an aerosol form.
“Your mother and I thought there was no way that the government knew about this. If they did, they would have ceased operations immediately, right? It was destroying the soil, the very earth from which all food was produced to feed the population. What could be more important than this? So we immediately called ESSA, naively thinking that they would be thrilled to hear of our discovery and even more so our solution, to negate the effects of the toxin. It was not to be so.
“First we called some of our teachers; those we knew were concerned about the environment. We packed up the car and called in a favour, to meet with the dean of Solace University. Professor Doyle swore our discovery would be accepted with open arms. We secured a meeting with ESSA’s research and development department. After passing through a gauntlet of security, we were ushered into a plush office to meet with the head of research. Professor Doyle brought us into her office, set in the north corner of the university. She listened to our dissertation with rapt attention, and at the conclusion of an hour of facts, figures and charts, she said, in a flat tone ‘Is that all?’
“Needless to say we were stunned. Naively, we believed that the proof would triumph over political ambition, that science would rule the day. Our stats were indisputable, beyond reproach. Our audience was not.
“What can I say? We packed up our charts and laptops stuffed with data and left. She had no interest in our information, or so we thought. We drove back home and over the following weeks continued our studies, hoping to find more evidence, something to convince Professor Doyle that we were not mistaken in our findings.
“The sad truth is that it wasn’t about our findings. It was about the secret workings of the government, and a healthy dose of intrigue. It was about contracts and the ‘corporate line’, for the government is the source of the majority of the university’s funding. They could not admit to the veracity of our findings. We learned later that the government was leaning heavily on them to suppress the truth.
“A month after our impromptu visit to the university the phone calls started. At first, they were pleasant and asked how we were coping with the diseased land we now lived on and whether they could offer any assistance. When we asked what they suggested we do, they said to abandon the manor and move into Solace, and work for them. They advised there was nothing to be done for the soil, that it was dead and could not be redeemed. We declined their offer. They called the next week and the next week and when we refused to move, the calls became more frequent, and darker in nature. They insisted that the research we had undertaken was flawed and that it should not be published. They offered to buy it from us. We declined again.
“The final phone call was an outright threat. Give them all of our research or be silenced. As you are reading this letter, the worst has come true and agents of the government, under the guise of national security, have arrested us and taken all the research, or so they believe.
“Sewn into the lining of this jacket is a thumb drive with all of our research. They may have stolen the laptops but you have all the evidence you need to get help. Do not go to the police. We do not know which government agencies are involved and which are not. There is only one person at the police station I would trust, and even then, you must use caution. That person is Mitch Anderson.
“I have made arrangements for my brother to care for you should something happen to us. Darren will come for you. I am sure we will see each other again soon. Do not let the thumb drive out of your sight. It could save your life.
“We love you both very much. We will be together soon.
“Love, Mom and Dad.”
Chapter 8
The First Peek
MITCH GENTLY FOLDED the much-read letter and handed it back to Avalon.
“Do you still have the thumb drive?” he asked. His quiet, calm voice belied his pity and fear for the two girls. Mitch’s heart raced as he waited for their answer.
“Yes, it is still sewn inside the coat. I thought it was best to leave it in there. That way it couldn’t get lost. One of the two of us is always wearing it. Alexa shrugged her arms out of the bomber style jacket and handed it forward into the front seat. Avalon took it from her then turned the right sleeve inside out. Just above the elbow area, a series of neat stitches mended a seam in the jacket lining. Mitch felt along the area with his fingers and sure enough, there was a hard, flat object sewn in place. With a sigh of relief, he pulled his car key out of the ignition and slid it under a couple of the threads and tugged sharply, breaking them. The rest parted easily and he plunged his fingers into the opening to fish out a grey thumb drive. Written with a black marker on the grey casing was a date, three weeks prior to the Gainsborough’s disappearance.
“Do you mind if I take this, for safekeeping? It might provide some clues as to where we could find your parents.”
Alexa and Avalon nodded their approval and Avalon handed the jacket back to Alexa. Mitch slipped the thumb drive into his wallet and then back into his pocket.
“So, Alexa, your sister Avalon is a fugitive from the law.” Alexa’s eyes widened, in surprise. “And so am I, they just don’t know it yet. Avalon has agreed to do something very dangerous for me. She is going to sneak into the government facility where they make the fertilizer for the lottery distribution and ‘borrow’ a sample, so that we can try to replicate it. That may even be the information that your parents discovered, the formula that will make things grow again. Whatever it was that they discovered, it was important enough for the government to kidnap them for it. I say it’s time we knew what it is that they discovered.”
“Daddy was very smart. So was Mom,” said Alexa, proudly. “They knew all kinds of smart things.”
“And so are his daughters.” Mitch smiled
warmly at them. “I cannot think of any other children as smart as you two. To stay alive and as healthy as you are in this environment with no adult help is simply amazing. Well done.”
Alexa grinned and Avalon gave her a thumb’s up, grinning back at her.
“Avalon is going to sneak into the facility, with some help from a confidant. She is small and wiry and with the map that my friend is creating, she should be able to navigate the facility and gather the sample we need. I will not lie; this will be dangerous for her.” His eyes caught Avalon’s to gauge her reaction.
Avalon sniffed and folded her arms. “This facility is nothing compared to sneaking into the bank last summer.”
Mitch raised an eyebrow at her and in a mock stern voice said, “You are a bank robber too?”
Avalon laughed. “No, I am not a bank robber. I stole nothing. I had just forgotten my coat and it was a cold night and besides, I wasn’t about to lose the thumb drive!”
“What was your jacket doing in the bank?”
“I was cold, and so I wandered in just after it opened and crawled under an empty desk to take a nap. When I woke, it was to the announcement that the bank was closing and I slipped outside without them noticing me. I watched them lock up the doors and set the alarms, only to realize that I had forgotten my coat.”
“Why didn’t you just wait till it opened in the morning?”
“Where is the fun in that?” She laughed, eyes sparkling. Avalon’s face always came alive when she spoke of an adventure. She lit up like a firecracker.
“OK, I’ll bite. How did you get past the alarms?”
“Through the milk box.”
“The milk box?”
“Yeah, the bank has a milk box on the side of the building. It was covered up with a board, but I knew it was there. I pried off the cover and crawled into the milk box. You would not have fit. I pushed open the door on the other side that emptied into the staff room. From there it was a simple matter of keeping to the walls and moving slowly so as to not set off the motion detectors.”