“If she’s awake,” Catherine replied. “She looked pretty done in when she went into her room after breakfast.”
Mattea interjected, “Now there were some award-worthy performances, at breakfast, ladies. I was impressed, at least until you told me about your little code exchange. Now maybe not so much.”
Nicola lifted her eyebrows and looked at him imperiously. “Did you know we were communicating in code while you schlepped down ten pancakes?”
“No. And who’s counting?”
Nicola tilted her head and chirped, “Me. Now that’s acting.”
The two women smiled as they shifted down the row and resumed picking. Catherine said, “You weren’t so bad yourself at breakfast, Mr. Greyeyes-Apsassin. And lunch.”
He bowed. “Why thank you Madame.”
Nicola sat abruptly into the dirt beside her basket, her playful mood gone. “I know he wants to go into Rushton, but it’s so dangerous, and for what? Tablets that might not ever be there? And what’s Wren supposed to do with them? She’s the daughter of a scientist, not a scientist herself. They won’t mean squat to her.”
Mattea said, “His whole world is falling apart. He has to risk it—he gave his word. His brother died in the attempt. I don’t see how he can’t try to get them.”
They were silent, each lost in their own thoughts, the only sound being the wind in the nearby Saskatoon bushes, the late-day buzzing bees flitting around the flowering potato plants three rows over, and the subtle snap, snap of the beans as they were gathered, the quiet tumble as they were dropped into baskets.
This was the first time Mattea had felt anywhere close to grounded in the real world, now he knew they were merely tiny cogs in a very big wheel that could so easily crush them all. And he’d thought Coru had escaped some sort of weird cult or strict monastery. It was laughable.
Of course, the real explanation for Coru’s appearing in his life back in Hope would be out of this world. Wasn’t that his life in the nut shell—all edge-of-disaster events?
Maybe that’s why I’m still alive and kicking.
Nicola broke the silence. “This is paradise. You know that, don’t you?”
Catherine nodded, stopping to let her gaze skim around the burgeoning garden, the sunshine, and the lush forests that surrounded them, before stopping on Mattea, her eyes laser sharp. “The trip into Rushton. How many? Who? Chances?”
Mattea just shook his head and kept picking, working out the logistics of a group heading into Rushton. Wren would have to go—she would be the team’s early warning system, and she knew where she’d left the tablets. This left D.O.A. blind and vulnerable. He wanted her here, but he couldn’t have both. He’d have to work on that. Coru would go, obviously. He was their strongest, fastest, and most motivated. He wouldn’t stay behind in any case. Not the best guy to disguise, however, with the tattooed head … A toque? He snickered under his breath at that. In the middle of summer—yeah, they’ll buy that. That meant a night mission. Horse or the Beast?
“—meds.” Catherine was looking at him with a worried expression.
“What? Sorry, thinking about the mission. What meds?”
“Now it’s a mission?” Nicola complained derisively, obviously still unconvinced about this bid for the tablets. Nicola was all about protecting the family, the children in particular, and Deklin especially. She was absolutely committed to that boy. He knew it was a transference from her brother David. It wasn’t the worst way to deal with a loss.
A bean hit him in the forehead. “Hey,” he protested, tossing the bean into his basket. “It’s all fun and games ‘til someone loses an eye.’”
Nicola made a face.
“I can pick my own.”
Catherine groused, “Are you even listening to me?”
“No,” Nicola contributed. “He’s a man.”
Catherine widened her eyes at Nicola pointedly to be quiet, then turned her attention to Mattea. “I’m talking about Bill’s meds. If they could find the medication he needs while they were there, I’d totally support this whole crazy idea. You’re always so busy, I don’t think you know how much Bill is covering. He’s feeling useless and it’s just not fair. With his meds he could be part of this, feel useful again. And we need him at full capacity.”
Nicola reached across the bean bushes and grasped Catherine’s hand. “No, Catherine. Wren said the place had been gutted when she was there and that was weeks ago. And those guys in the ice cream place …” She shuddered at the story Wren had told her.
Catherine was unmoved. “I’ve been thinking about that. Here’s what might work.”
Mattea and Nicola exchanged doubtful glances. Poor Catherine. Everyone’s mother, scrambling to make sure they were all taken care of. This was a hopeless cause.
Undaunted, Catherine pressed on. “They go into the pharmacies, check records for Bill’s meds, for other people with the same prescription. Get the addresses. Rushton just isn’t that big a place. They go to the addresses and check around, see if there are leftovers from, you know, that maybe weren’t used because the person died.” Catherine faded off, her expression apologetic. “Sorry, but, it’s the best shot we’ve got.”
Mattea blinked in surprise and stared at Catherine. “That’s a… really good idea, actually. Logical. So, no horses.”
The women frowned their question at him.
“I was thinking, horses or the Beast.”
“So, you’ve already decided you’re going. Why are we even talking about this, then?” Nicola grabbed her basket, stood up and marched away between the rows. He jumped to his feet and caught up with her.
“I’m not going.”
She stopped and turned to face him, relief written in her face. “You’re not?”
“No. It’s a wild, dangerous gamble, and their chances aren’t good. I do know they’ll have to try and I know we can’t leave this place unprotected.” Catherine joined them, so he included her in his explanation. “Bill, like Catherine said, is too fragile to be of use protection wise — and don’t you dare quote me on that in front of the man. I’ll deny it. He’s still a fountain of information and it would kill Wren if something happened him. She adores him — in case you haven’t noticed. Dan and Sean are good, but have you noticed how Jarvis is moving now?”
“No.” This from Catherine. “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t know, but I think he hurt his back digging in the posts for the horse paddock. He’s not complaining, but he’s in pain.”
Catherine was shaking her head. “You put him on light duty right now, Mattea. I’ll get him some aspirin and muscle relaxers. They’ll make him sleep a lot, but they just might help.”
Nicola looked at her in astonishment. “Don’t you sound like you know what you’re talking about.”
“I was a medical assistant at a small clinic, before I got Malcolm. The doctor trusted me with some of the simpler tasks.”
“Why don’t we know this about you?”
Catherine suddenly smiled. “’Cause you never asked!”
Nicola announced, “We need a general meeting around a fire — tonight. We’ve been so busy trying to get ready for winter, get in enough supplies, make the cabins work for everyone and still keep the place guarded. We’ve never actually introduced ourselves or explained the areas we could maybe be an expert in and could contribute that knowledge to the group. Like you knowing some basic medicine, Catherine. That’s huge! You set it up Mattea; everyone listens to you.”
“Bossy,” he complained, though he was flattered she thought that of him. He did try.
They drifted to the gate of the garden, he opened it and they filed through. “So, it’s decided? We support the mission into Rushton, with the added task of searching for Bill’s meds. Dan, Sean, me, and you,” he nodded his head toward Nicola, “will stand guard. Bill and Jarvis can be armed, but stay with the kids. Annie’s out, for obvious reasons, and Sandy.” He stopped and frowned. “We might be underestimating Sandy. I’m
thinking she should go with you, Nicola, and learn. She’s smart, she’s fit and she loves those kids.”
“Sounds good. I like Sandy.” Nicola linked the heavy chain around the garden gate post to hold the gate closed. “What happens if they don’t come back?”
“We keep guarding, we keep preparing, we do our best.”
“Harsh,” she accused.
“Reality,” he countered, sympathetic to her feelings — he had them too — but losing two more able-bodied to the Rushton tablet recovery just wasn’t an option. Three, with Bill permanently incapacitated. And without Coru, what meaning did the tablets have?
Nicola suddenly cringed. “Oh, my God,” she cried out, staggering, reaching out to Mattea to stop from falling. She scrubbed furiously at the side of her head.
“What?”
She crunched up her face as if against pain, then after a moment, her expression smoothed, relaxed. Tentatively she opened her eyes. “That… that was bizarre.”
Then Catherine gasped, gripped her head with both hands and swayed in place.
Fear knifed through him. Was this the start of the virus? Would he even know it when he saw it? Then he felt it, a distinct PING echoing in his head. Instead of fighting against it, he closed his eyes and dove into the sensation, absorbing it, feeling it, analyzing it. So strange, so … The feeling faded, gone like vapor, as if it hadn’t even happened. What the hell was that?
He opened his eyes, looked at Nicola and Catherine — and he knew. He knew exactly what was going on. “Let’s go talk to Wren.”
“But she’s asleep.”
“She’s awake now.”
He told them what had happened, then smiled, smiled, smiled as they made their way back to the main cabin.
As predicted, Wren was standing on the deck beside Coru, waving them home.
SEEING THEIR EXPRESSIONS, Wren jumped up and down on the deck, clapping her hands. “It worked. Just like with you, it worked!”
Coru lifted her in a bear hug off the deck, twirling her around and chortled, “You are fracking amazing, Wren Wood!” Her face, so close to his was wreathed in pure joy, her blue eyes sparkling with it, an expression he’d never seen on her before. Wren Wood deserved to look this way, feel this way, all the time. He liked every little thing about this woman. Thank the gods he’d found her. And now, with her help, he would find those tablets, find that key to repairing his world.
“Coru, we can do anything now! Do you realize what this means?”
“I do. Wait ‘til the others are here.” He looked around to see if any of the others had seen his impulsive reaction, and let her slip from his arms. “And we should be careful. This is great news, but we should keep it between ourselves.”
Ignoring his warning she returned to dancing across the pine deck in excitement, waving Mattea, Nicola and Catherine to hurry and join them. Judging from their expressions, they knew what had happened. They were just better at covering than Wren was.
Mattea stepped onto the deck first. “Miss Wood, you’ve expanded your repertoire of hidden talents.”
“Yes! I think it worked because I know your minds so well now. It was Coru’s idea.”
Coru shook his head, still grinning. “It wasn’t an idea, it was a stray thought. I was wishing she could ping us back, let us know she was in there with us, maybe give us time to clean the place up a bit—you know, ready for a guest mind reader.”
“Now we make up a code,” Wren gushed, grabbing hold of Catherine’s and Nicola’s hands. One ping for yes, two pings for no. Three for north. Four for south. Five for —.”
Mattea held out his hands, “No, no, no. By the time we’ve counted out your numbers, we’ll all grow old. We need patterns for basic instructions.”
“Oh.” Wren pouted with disappointment, considering what he’d said. “You’re right. We need patterns. Let’s make some basic messages, like Yes, No, Right, Left, Back, Forward, Danger, Safe …”
Nicola joined in, “Help, Come, Get away.”
Catherine took their bean baskets from their hands and disappeared inside the cabin.
“Not that many.” Mattea sat in one of the Adirondack chairs. “We ask those questions and you answer yes or no. So, basic, less complicated. No decoder ring required.”
Catherine was back with a pad and pen, and Deklin. “Okay,” she said, sitting in the chair next to Mattea. “Start again.”
They worked out a list of answers Wren could ping to them. Yes. No. Help. Each D.O.A. member’s name. Stay. Come. Danger. Safe. North, south, east, west. Alone. Watched. Sick. Injured. ATV. Horse. By foot. Food. Water. Bugout. That last one drained the excitement from the exercise. There was a real possibility that they might one day have to leave this place, now their home, to save themselves.
Solemnly, Mattea added to the list. Captured. Prisoner. Trapped. Compromised. Few. Many. Man. Woman. Child. Dog. “That’s plenty,” he said. “I’ll work out patterns for these …” he counted, “these forty-six words. Then we’ll make a copy for each of us and study it, memorize it as quickly as we can, then destroy it.”
“And I’ll practice on you tonight, when everyone’s in bed. I need to know how hard and how far to project so I don’t blast you.”
Nicola nodded. “Then maybe we won’t cringe like babies and let everyone around us know what we’re doing. We need to hear from you and send out our questions with a poker face.”
Deklin, who had been sitting on the edge of the deck throwing sticks for Ol’ Henry turned to look at them. “I have a code for those words. I can share. Pops says to always share.”
They collectively stared at the boy. He gazed back from under thick blond bangs, his expression untroubled.
Coru spoke up, not unkindly, not wanting to hurt Deklin’s feelings. “Deklin, this is a grown-up problem —.”
Wren jumped in, “No. He does have a code made up already. He made it up as we wrote them down. It’s all finished.” She gazed at him for a quiet moment, now inside his head, reading his list of codes, then broke into a wide smile. “That’s perfect, Deklin! Should I write it down for you?”
He shrugged and dropped his eyes, a little smile playing at his mouth. “If you want.”
Wren took the list and pen Catherine offered to her and sat down next to Deklin. “I’ll write them here, and you tell me if I have them right?” She spoke gently, like she always did when she was with Deklin.
Deklin nodded, untroubled by the fact he needn’t speak, that Wren would know what was inside his head. It was both bizarre and comforting. Watching the two together, it struck Coru like taking a fencepost across the head: Deklin and Wren could be brother and sister. They had identical blue eyes, thick flaxen hair, pale skin that blushed easily and, strangely when at rest, both displayed an almost preternatural connection. He glanced at Mattea and nodded in the pair’s direction. “See that?” he murmured. “It’s like they … they …”
Mattea nodded his understanding. “The moment they met. All I could think of was — meant to be. Meant to be together. It’s eerie.”
Nicola moved to stand beside them. “So, it isn’t just me, then.”
“How old is Deklin?” Coru asked quietly.
Mattea answered, “He told us fourteen.” He looked at Coru, the question, “Where are you going with this?” in his eyes.
“Didn’t Wren say that years ago—when we think Moses Zhang made his appearance, in fact—her parents split up?”
Mattea shrugged his agreement.
Coru stared at the pair seated at the edge of the deck. “I wonder why.”
They watched the two flaxen heads together, listened to Wren’s soothing tone and the boy’s unhurried, trusting confirmations as they worked through the list.
“No. Not possible,” Coru dismissed with a self-depreciating laugh, and turning away. “Time to haul water for the animals. Let’s get to work.”
24
HIGHWAY SIGNS
The parting at the top of Dewdrop Hill was an em
otional one. Everyone knew if Coru and Wren didn’t return within the allotted time, there could be no rescue team raised. They were on their own.
The men slapped one another across the back and shot out insults and jokes. The women — not so much. Catherine was teary and huggy, tucking a last-minute bundle into Coru’s backpack, containing so-far unnamed necessities for the trip. Nicola was angry, moving restlessly about, firing terse warnings and advise at Wren. When Mattea called her on it, she pivoted and threatened Wren with a horrible end if she did not promise to return to rescue her from Annie’s incessant chatter.
Mattea’s warning hadn’t been necessary. Wren knew Nicola loved her and was frightened to see her go. The truth was, Wren didn’t want to go — she was freaking out inside — how did anyone see her as brave, as selfless? She was not. She wanted someone else to go. She wanted no one to go. She wanted the virus to never have happened. She said none of this.
Bill was silent, his arm around Wren shoulders, hugging her again and again, his understanding written in his eyes, releasing her only when it was time for them to climb into Beastette. She and Coru clipped on their seatbelts, the send-off committee stepped back. Beastette hadn’t moved a foot toward Rushton, and already she missed them.
Wren waved gaily at them as Coru guided Beastette up the road toward the Thacker farm. They were silent during the seven-kilometer run up to her hidden gate at the back of the Thacker farm. Once there, they donned the night-vision glasses, Wren wearing clunky hunting googles Dan had provided, Coru slipping a light-weight, sleek set of glasses around his head, brought from his own time.
From now on, there would be no headlights allowed.
As planned, they left the safety of her hidden gate at the tail end of dusk, traveling in darkness, with only a sliver of a moon overhead. It was now midsummer and available darkness was at a premium. By three a.m. pale light would be peeking over the horizon; by four a.m. bright sunlight would be pushing hard, leaving them vulnerable. That left them four hours at most to move about in relative safety.
Lost Sentinel: Post-Apocalyptic Time Travel Adventure (Earth Survives Series Book 1) Page 27