Wren chuckled, the sound making Inkspot shift into a cozier spot under her chin. Wren could see each number had its own color. Then it came to her and she blinked in surprise. Deklin saw numbers as colors—jumping up, floating by, popping like a balloon, hopping across like a jackrabbit, chased by another. All around him, he saw beautifully colored numbers. His inner world teamed with exciting numbers relating to everything, his mind busily calculating distances, heights, widths, adding, subtracting, doing mental number gymnastics, which resulted in a splash of a new number in his private canvas—his favorite thing!
It was a wonder he was able to communicate with them at all, he was so busy in there.
The moment Wren had met him, Deklin had stolen her heart. She’d thought it wasn’t possible for her to love the gentle boy more than she did already, but she’d been wrong. Deklin was an innocent, truly pure spirit, full of joy and wonder, possessing love for all things. Witnessing his wondrous world of numbers Wren fell in love with him a little more today, and relaxed further into the sweet-smelling straw, smiling at his secret love of numbers. She’d seen inside many minds, and never had she discovered such joy. And people thought Deklin was the one with the handicap.
“I’m so glad you built that fire, Deklin,” she murmured, turning on her side and drawing her knees up to her chest. Shield back in place, she let her eyes drop closed. They’d be working on school for a while yet, and it was so warm and quiet in here … and she was so sleepy, and all the time lately…
CORU LOOKED DOWN AT WREN, curled up in the straw, asleep and surrounded by kittens, with mama cat, Miss Mew watching over all her babies. He couldn’t help smiling. Wren was such a firecracker, but seeing her like this, finally relaxed, the worry lines between her eyes erased, she looked so young. Too young to be responsible for the safety of so many. That’s how she saw her role, he knew. She was always scanning, endlessly scanning. He saw it in her face when she was doing it—she was running herself into the ground with scanning. How long could she keep it up before she was depleted?
Dan came to stand beside him, looked down at Wren, then waved him away. Outside the barn, he said, “We’ll start at the other end and let her sleep. It’ll take a couple of hours to run the lines up here.”
They loaded the sod-cutter and coiled cable back into the truck and headed to the old cabin. Dan got busy with his drill and electrician tools, demonstrating by example with the old cabin, which, blessedly smelled much better from the fresh air, how to set up the doorbell. He drilled a hole for the cable into the floor, fed two cable lines inside to the new bell, now attached to the wall just inside the door.
Satisfied, he said, “There, now we cut sod down to the boat launch, bringing one cable along with us and set up the belt. Once we’re done with that, we’ll come back here and cut sod, and bring this second cable to the main cabin. After that, it’s an easy job to connect the main cabin alarm bell to the third bell, inside the barn. We should be done before dark, barring incident.”
They set to work immediately, the trusty sod-cutter chugging along faithfully, making good time through the river silt that made up much of the topsoil here on the homestead. Within an hour they had reached the place at the boat launch that they’d targeted for the alarm belt. Here they hand dug a quick trench, buried the belt, cut the cable to length and wired it up, taped it up and buried it.
Dan looked up at Coru with a grin. “Let’s test it. You go up and make sure that bell rings when I step over this.”
Coru jogged back to the old cabin. The bell was already ringing by the time he got there. A saucy pattern of rings ensued, as Dan jumped over the belt again and again. Coru laughed and jogged back to the boat launch — Dan was having way too much fun.
They packed up their gear into the ATV, returned to the old cabin and started again with the sod cutter, this time heading across the meadow where the goats and Missy and Junior were grazing. They had a working rhythm now, and had cut their way across the longer expanse to the main cabin in less time than it took them to get up to the old cabin from the boat launch. Missy and Junior were uninterested in what Dan and Coru were working on in their pasture, but the goats were completely entranced with the whole process, straining at their tethers to get a good look-see.
Dan and Coru arrived at the main cabin, drafted Malcolm, as he was the smallest boy but still strong enough to pull the cable under the deck and feed it up through the hole Dan drilled in the floor inside the porch. Here it was Coru’s turn to rig up the bell at the main cabin, just inside the porch door, the same as the old cabin.
It came together quickly. Dan had been a good teacher, plus Coru had those years down on Surface to learn skills. He could hardly wrap his head around the fact that this, right here, where he stood with Dan and the rest of their family of survivors was also Surface, a beautiful, unspoiled Surface, unlike any those from his time would ever witness. Again, he warred with his hunger to remain here rather than return to his own world.
Linking the cabin to the barn went fast, with the children, now released from Sandy and Bill’s “school”, taking turns running the sod cutter, their faces split wide with happy grins as the little machine ate up the yards between the two buildings. Dan rigged up the bell while Wren watched. She looked rested and relaxed when Coru caught sight of her, remembering almost too late to run his numbers to block her curious probe. She glanced at him with a flash of puzzlement, then moved on to view the happy kids, smiling at their antics. That’s right, he thought, move along, Wren, there’s nothing interesting in my head. At this he laughed out loud. Did I just think that?
She was smiling to herself. Yes, he had and she’d read it. This game of cat and mouse kept him on his toes, for sure, but he had to admit, this method of communicating was completely stellar.
Wren rolled her eyes at that, then bent to tie Rhea’s boot lace.
Two ATVs pulled up beside him. He’d never get used to how quietly they ran. Mattea and Sean looked tired but happy, their vehicles loaded to the brim, with mattresses tied to the roofs.
He waved a greeting. “How the hell did you get back loaded like this?”
Sean leapt from his vehicle first. “Very carefully, my friend, very carefully. That’s what took us so long.”
Coru frowned, looked up at the sky and saw that it was late, later than he’d thought. Shouldn’t Nicola and Jarvis be back as well? Their mission was the simplest of them all – follow the river ‘til they were close to the top of Drury Road, but before the highway, come up through the trees to the farm with the mule, capture it and bring it back the same way.
“What time is it?” he asked.
Sean glanced at his watch. “After six. Time to eat, I’d say.”
Mattea was watching Coru, tuned in to his concern. “They’re not back?”
Coru shook his head, heading for the ATV parking. “I’m going after them.”
“No,” Mattea called. “We’ll take horses, follow the same trail.”
Coru switched direction and ran toward the barn. Sean and Mattea followed.
Dan glanced up from the bell he was installing and did a double take, his normal grin vanishing. “What’s wrong?”
“We think Jarvis and Nicola are in trouble.”
Wren said, “I’m coming too.”
Sean said, “No – this could be dangerous—.”
Coru stopped him with a wave of his hand. “No, she comes with us. We can use her help.”
Sean nodded his assent and they prepped the horses quickly.
Dan came to Coru and murmured. “What can I do to help?”
“Get the children into the cabin for now, and keep them quiet. Don’t scare them, but maybe …” He stopped, looked at Dan. “We haven’t had enough time to prepare, damn it!”
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll leave Sandy and Wyatt with the two defenders at the cabin. Me and Catherine will arm ourselves and watch the road. The launch is wired up and working. We will have time to set up your escape cac
hes. One day at a time, son.”
Son.
A myriad of battle scenes between himself and Cyprian flooded Coru’s brain, scenes where his father had never spoken to him as Dan had just now. How he’d craved his father’s approval, his father’s love, his support, the ability to go to him with something that troubled him. But that was never to be for Coru on Cloud Rez. Cyprian was First Councilor, with much to fill his time. Coru’s heart constricted at this loss in his life.
Wren’s head whipped around to stare at him, her eyes wide.
Coru froze. She knew! She’d heard the memories of his father tumble out at hearing Dan’s assurance. Scenes of arguments, “foolish choice”, stand-off’s, rejections, “learned your lesson”, “you’ll regret this”, sides chosen, “not favored son”, all followed by the last look of affection, so long hidden, in his father’s face just before Coru and Payton had jumped through the Time Bore.
Coru closed his eyes for a long moment. Time Bore. Had he just ruined everything? In one moment of weakness, he’d given her the key. What would she do now that she could open the door and step through?
He took a chance and sent her a mental message. Please, Wren, not now. I will explain. Everything. But not now.
He risked a look at her face. She was adjusting her saddle where it didn’t need adjusting, her expression closed. Would she trust him enough to wait?
Coru nodded at Dan and mounted his horse, urging it out from the barn, with Wren mounted on a small, gentle black mare by his side. Sean and Mattea led the way across the meadow, past the garden, across the road and into the bush, following Nicola and Jarvis’s trail.
20
MISDIRECTION
They were two hours into the trail, and there was still no sign of Nicola and Jarvis. With each passing moment Mattea was growing more apprehensive, kicking himself for allowing Nicola to go along with a man he barely knew. Yeah, Dan trusted him, but how long had he known Jarvis, and what did he know? The truth or a story Jarvis made up to satisfy Dan?
Wren suddenly nudged her little mare up the column, brushing past Mattea. She reached out and pulled Sean’s reins to stop his horse. Mattea and Coru, following behind reined in their horses as well. She raised her finger to her lips for silence, and closed her eyes, tilted her head, concentrating. Sean watched her in confusion, before glancing back at Mattea and Coru for an explanation. They raised their own fingers to their lips as she had done and nodded, straining to pick up what Wren had caught.
After a minute, which seemed so much longer, she opened her eyes, nodded and swung her leg off her horse. They followed suit. She led them off the trail, tied her horse to a tree and pulled her rifle free of the saddle. Again, they followed suit. They gathered around her.
“They’re not hurt, so far as I know. They were seen, though. There are two men ahead of us on this trail, coming this way, looking for them. Since we haven’t run into Nicola and Jarvis ourselves, I’m thinking they knew they’d been seen and decided to lead them away from D.O.A.”
Mattea asked, “What are these guys intentions?”
Wren grimaced, her eyes telling him all he needed to know.
“So, not good.”
“Not good.”
Coru asked, “Can they be reasoned with?”
“Would you reason with a rabid dog?”
Coru shook his head. “I don’t like it.”
Mattea said, “Nobody likes it, Coru!”, impatient with Coru’s need to be conciliatory.
Sean burst out, “What the hell! How do you know this?” His gaze ricocheted around their huddled faces, searching for answers.
Mattea checked with Wren first. She shrugged her agreement. He said, “Okay, there’s no easy way to say this. Wren is telepathic. She can hear our thoughts. That’s why she’s here—to scan ahead, to clear the way.” Sean’s jaw dropped. “Just so you know—nobody touches Wren. She is the most important person we have. She’s our secret weapon. Protect her at all costs.”
Sean’s gaze shifted to Wren. He closed his mouth and swallowed with difficulty. “So… so you know what I’m thinking right now? You’ve always known what I’m thinking?” His dark eyes said it all — embarrassment — though he fought to keep his features neutral.
Mattea guessed he was remembering his romantic thoughts about Sandy and wondering if Wren now knew his secret. He was sweet on the shy little blonde who protected her heart by surrounding herself with the children, much to Sean’s frustration. The thing was, everyone at D.O.A. already knew this about Sean. You didn’t have to be telepathic to see what was happening. Even Sandy knew he liked her, though she was too shy to act on her own feeling toward the big, singing, joking Sean.
Wren shook her head impatiently. “It doesn’t work that way, Sean. I mostly shield myself from everyone’s thoughts. It’s too much, all the time an avalanche of thoughts, images, memories. I only drop my shield when I need to know.” She waved eastward. “Like now. I’ve never tried to stretch out great distances before, but I’ve been practicing. We need to know what’s coming for us.”
Coru stepped closer to her, protectively. Mattea wondered if he even realized how he hovered near her whenever possible. “It takes a lot out of her. It’s exhausting. But it’s imperative.”
Sean’s horrified expression relaxed, likely relieved his recent inner thoughts were not public. “Okay. I get it.” He flashed Wren a wide grin. “You’re our early warning system.”
“How far away are they?” Mattea asked, untying his own rifle.
“Maybe another mile?”
“Hey, you are getting better!”
“Yes.” She smiled faintly, maybe happy with her results, but not the reason for them.
Coru wasn’t in the celebrating mood. “You’re sure we have to... kill them?”
She bit her lip and heaved a sigh. “What’s our alternative? Go out there, and if they don’t kill us first, which, I’m telling you now they will the moment they have a chance, and ask them to go away? Wave your hand and tell them, “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for,” and off they go, looking for someone else to kill?”
Mattea and Sean nodded, understanding. Coru, missing the reference, was still unconvinced.
Reluctantly she scanned again. Mattea could tell now when she was. She shuddered and returned to them, rubbing her forehead with a shaking hand. “T-trust me, no one will miss them. I-I don’t want to l-look inside their heads anymore.”
“It’s just the two of them?”
“No—there are six. They split up, four went east on horseback, and these two came west, tracking on foot. If we sidestep them they’ll carry on and come out at D.O.A., and we can’t have that. What they want...” She shook her head quickly, shaking away their thoughts. “They can’t get there.” She glanced first at Mattea, then reluctantly at Coru. “These two, they – they like little boys.” She swayed, as if she was going to be sick. Mattea couldn’t even imagine what she was forcing herself to see to protect them.
Coru took her rifle from her unresisting hand. “You’ve done enough. Wait here ‘til we’re back.”
She nodded, then turned suddenly, ran further into the bush and vomited.
Sean’s eyes were big, and burned with hatred when he turned them to Mattea. “Let’s get this over with.”
Mattea guessed Sean had reason to hate men like these. He cautioned, “Once we do, everyone in this area will know we’re here.”
Coru considered, then returned his shotgun to his saddle. “Then we’ll be silent, won’t we?” The smile on his face was not friendly. Mattea left his weapon as well; Sean brought his, just in case. They set out on foot, with Coru in the lead.
They found the two quickly; they were noisy and undisciplined. It wasn’t hard to circle round, come up behind them and pick them off one after the other. Coru took the first, covering his mouth with one hand and delivering a quick cut to the man’s throat. Blood sprayed, coating the leaves on either side of the narrow path, leaving them glossy
with liquid crimson and dripping. Coru lifted the man silently, pulling him quickly into the bush, held on until he bled out, then laid his body deep in the bush. Seeing the first was dealt with, Mattea took the next, same method: Covered mouth, neat, precision cut, predictable spray of blood on the nearby foliage, then, he too was safely tucked out of sight in the bush. Scavengers would make short work of them over the next several days. Sean stood over them, rifle at the ready, but it was unnecessary.
Before returning to Wren, they scrambled down the steep river bank to the river and washed off as much as they could. It was the least they could do for her. And themselves.
Their way now clear, they ran back along the narrow forest path to where Wren and the horses waited, mounted up and moved as quickly as they could, knowing Wren would tell them when to be cautious. The path came up and out of the forest onto an open and unplanted field. They crossed it to the farmhouse Wren had told Nicola and Jarvis about. At the farmhouse, they saw the cut fence, but no mule. Tracking their horses, Mattea found evidence they’d been there, with running footsteps up to the house. Whatever they’d found at the house was moot, as they had come back, mounted their horses and high-tailed it east, in an obvious effort to misdirect whoever was coming their way. Mattea stopped, pointed to the tracks. “They have the mule and they have a dog.”
Coru’s eye’s widened in appreciation of his skills. “How do you know?”
Mattea pointed out the tracks, some clear, some stepped over by their horses and the mule, whose shod was distinctively different from the horses. “That means the dog, maybe two dogs were with them, not after them, and not with the four following.”
Lost Sentinel: Post-Apocalyptic Time Travel Adventure (Earth Survives Series Book 1) Page 22