by Strauss, Lee
When the kitchen door shut, Finn unlocked the corner cupboard and pulled out a green, glass bottle full of something that looked suspiciously like homemade, red wine. He poured a glass for all the guys, even for those of us who were obviously under age.
I raised my eyebrows in question.
“We adhere to our own laws,” Ike said.
“I didn’t think Amish people drank alcohol,” I said as Finn handed me a glass.
Finn said, “Who said we’re Amish?”
“I just thought, with the clothes and lifestyle...”
Simon slapped me on the back. “He’s just giving you a hard time. We’re a split off a split off a split off the Amish. A certain amount of adaptation occurred over the years. Besides,” he added with a grin, “Jesus drank wine.”
An awkward quiet blanketed the room. I glanced up to find Finn staring at me, with knitted brows, like he was trying to read my mind. I cleared my throat and looked away. When I returned my gaze to Finn, his eyes were settled on his drink.
“I saw one in Marley,” Ike said. Then he gulped his wine like it was juice.
Philip’s eyes grew wide. “Actually? What’d it look like?”
I guessed Philip to be around sixteen, but in the low candlelight he looked younger and frightened, like a kid hearing ghost stories around a campfire. I hoped he planned to sip his wine slowly.
“Just like a human,” Ike said, scowling. “I had to look twice to make sure. They dressed it in clothes like a big doll. It walked funny and it never blinked. That’s how I knew.”
“Are you talking about humanoids?” I remembered the one that almost caught Zoe and me breaking into an office at Sleiman Tower in Sol City.
“Humanoids are of the devil,” Finn said after a sip. “A spawn of Satan to do the devil’s work.”
“We have to take ‘em out,” Ike said, setting his empty glass down hard on the table.
“No, Ike.” Finn paused long enough to refill both their glasses. “We don’t believe in violence. Not even against machines. Vengeance belongs to the Lord.”
Ike’s eyes were black in the dark room and scary-looking. “They’ll kill us, Finn,” he spewed. “You know they will. Kill us all.”
“Humanoids are programmed by men,” Simon said with a soothing voice, looking Ike in the eye. “They’ll only do what we tell them to do.”
“Like start a war?” Mr. Galloway said. He’d been so quiet; I’d almost forgotten he was there.
Simon shook his head. “That won’t happen. We have the Global Peace Policy now.”
Ike looked a Finn. “Your boy’s a damn fool!”
“Now watch your mouth, Ike.”
The room went quiet and each man attended to his drink. I sipped mine as I pondered what was going on here. Obviously, not all the members of this sect agreed on doctrine. Unrest simmered under the veneer of a peaceful lifestyle.
Finn moved to the corner cabinet and locked it up, then shoved the key into the sock of his right foot. “Morning comes early.”
There was a grunting of consensus as each one shifted their chairs and tucked in flyaway shirt-tails.
I hung back as they all left, wanting to see Zoe before we headed to bed. I caught her leaving the kitchen in a huff. I whispered to her as we stood in the darkness by the foot of the stairs, “How’s it going?”
“This place is bloody archaic and sexist.” She pulled off her bonnet. “Modesty is a virtue that would serve you well,” she mimicked.
I suppressed a grin. “So…not so good?”
“No. They have to fetch the water and then start a fire in the oven to heat it. It takes five years just to do the dishes!”
“Calm down. They’re simple, but generous people. Kind enough to take us in. Tomorrow we’ll go to Marley, get the battery recharged then leave.”
Hannah Blake stood at the top of the stairs. An oil lantern swayed in her hand and cast an eerie, ghostly glow over her face. “Zoe?” she called. “We’re waiting for you.”
Zoe hesitated before saying quietly, “See you in the morning.”
I watched her as she lifted her skirts and climbed the steps. I wasn’t used to seeing her in dresses, and even though the attire was old-fashioned, I found her alluring. I wished I could snatch her away, wrap my arms around her narrow shoulders and hold her tight.
I shook it off, frustrated by how easily Zoe Vanderveen affected me. I reminded myself that despite her tough and angry demeanor, she was delicate and vulnerable. I darted out into the cold air to clear my brain and headed for the outhouses. The wind blew the rain at sharp angles and I wished I’d grabbed one of those coats that hung by the door. I used the facilities in the dark and then pushed back through the storm, happy to see a stack of towels sitting by the back door. I patted myself dry as I went down the hall of the main level until I found the guys’ room.
I peeled off my wet clothes and slid between the sheets on the cot. It was lumpy, but at least it was clean. I folded my arms over my chest and tried to relax. Despite how tired I was, I couldn’t settle into sleep. The other guys didn’t have the same problem, and as I feared, the room soon filled with the soft roar of snoring.
My mind went to my younger brothers, Jonathon and Davis. A deep longing and sense of regret settled over me. I missed them, and I longed to be home to help raise them. To reassure them that everything would be all right somehow. My heart pinched with a familiar stabbing grief at my mother’s memory, wishing so desperately that she was still with us. Our cousin Skye was a great guardian, though. At least the boys had her.
I wondered what my dad would think if he could see me now. Was he watching from heaven, shaking his head wondering how I got myself into this mess? Or would he be proud of the measures I’d taken to protect the girl I’d fallen for?
The whistling wind grew quiet, and I got up to check on the storm. Looked like the rain had stopped and a fat slice of the moon peeked out from behind the blackened clouds.
A flicker of light caught my eye. It swung slightly, like a lantern. At first I thought someone was heading for the outhouses, but the light drifted in the opposite direction. There was enough moonlight for me to make out the tall, wiry figure heading alone into the forest.
What was Brother Finnegan Ranger up to?
Chapter 7
The rain picked up steam again in the early morning hours, dumping from the sky in sheets. The chores still needed to be done and this time I was assigned barn duty, as in cleaning up manure, a task I found wasn’t all that unpleasant.
I didn’t get to see Zoe until we met up at the breakfast table. She frowned when she saw me and her eyes darted to the storm raging outside through the windows. I shook my head, there was no way we could ride a carriage into Marley in this weather.
We sat across the table from each other again, and hardly said two words. After so much time being alone together the last few days, it felt weird to be separated in this way by the will of the commune.
Some of us were now gathered in the common room, given chores that could be done safely indoors. Rebecca and Hannah worked on a quilt that hung over a mobile, wooden rail. Zoe sat in a plain, straight-back chair across the room from me. Hannah had given her a needle and thread, along with a dress that needed hemming. She threw me a helpless look and I knew she’d never sewn anything before in her life.
I was churning butter.
“Ouch,” Zoe said again after pricking her finger for the hundredth time.
“You’re not supposed to sew your fingers together,” I said.
“Shut up.”
Rebecca stared at Zoe with a wide-eyed look of astonishment. I thought she was surprised to hear Zoe speak to me like that.
Zoe took a break from stabbing her fingers to stare out the window. Condensation had built up on the inside and she ran a finger across it. Cold and wet, like the weather. A log in the fire popped and she turned to gaze at the glowing embers.
Taylor blew in through the front door with an armful o
f wood. He stomped his feet and shook his head, and raindrops fell to the mat under his boots.
“Hello, ladies,” he said, then nodded at me. I didn’t nod back.
Taylor stacked the wood in the corner before bending to attend the fire. His eyes kept veering toward Zoe, and she pretended to be hard at work on her hemming job.
Her gaze rested on his biceps that bulged from under his shirt when he removed his jacket.
I cleared my throat, and her eyes sprung back to me. I nodded sharply as if to say, what are you doing?
Taylor seemed clueless to the stress he created between us. He stood in front of Zoe and stared at the bandage on her right hand.
“What happened there?” he asked.
No one had brought up the subject of her wound—caused by the chip removal— at least not to me. It wouldn’t keep her from any of the chores besides washing dishes.
“Sewing,” Zoe answered. “I’m all thumbs.”
“Let me see it,” Taylor said.
My pulse jumped as she held out her hand. Would he guess at what caused the injury? I didn’t believe he was as sheltered as he’d like us to think. He pulled the bandage back to peek.
“It’s red,” he said, locking eyes with Zoe. “It might be infected. I’ll get something for you.”
I stared hard at her when he left the room, but she refused to look back at me.
“Where are you two from?” Rebecca asked casually, a cloth square blocking her face.
I pulled my gaze from Zoe. “We’d rather not say.”
“Oh, sure,” she said. “I was just making conversation. We don’t get many visitors, and certainly none shrouded in so much mystery. I mean, you’re not married or siblings, yet you’re traveling unchaperoned.”
“It’s not as exciting as it sounds,” Zoe said. Her words stabbed my heart and I let out a long sigh.
Taylor returned with a cloth and antiseptic. He got on his knees, slowly removed the bandage and petted Zoe’s hand. He made an ordinary nursing task look sensual and Zoe blushed.
I stood abruptly, accidentally knocking my bucket of cream, spilling some of it. Taylor studied me over his shoulder. “Careful there. I got up early to milk that.”
“It’s okay, Noah,” Hannah said. “Accidents happen.”
“I’ll get a mop,” Rebecca said, leaving the room.
I pierced Taylor with a warning glare, hoping to send a message. Keep your hands off Zoe.
Maybe he got it, since he excused himself, saying, “More wood needs chopping.”
Zoe stared at me. “What the hell was that?”
Rebecca stood with the mop poised midair and gasped.
“I could ask you the same thing.” I shook my head and sat back down. “You’ve changed.”
“Of course I’ve changed,” Zoe said with a clipped voice. “My mind was messed with. My memories—”
“Stop.” I shot her a cautioning look. I couldn’t believe how careless she’d just been. Hannah pulled a fabric square up to her face, and Rebecca mopped the spot on the floor with strong strokes, but I worried they’d heard too much already.
I put all my frustration into churning.
Sunlight suddenly sprayed into the room. Out the window I saw a patch of blue sky. The storm had blown over.
“There’s still time to take that trip into Marley,” I said.
Rebecca ran to the window, stood beside me and peered out. “I’ll tell Taylor.”
Marley, Utah, was bigger than I’d expected. It had a number of modern buildings made of glass and steel, roadsides blemished with digital billboards and a busy MagLev pod transit system. Spindly pine trees dotted open patches that crawled up to the snow line on the mountain sides. I pulled the jacket the Rangers had loaned me a little tighter.
Our horse and carriage apparatus stuck out like a scene from a time warp film. Most people ignored us but some slung disparaging names. Even away from the carriage Rebecca and Zoe stood out as odd with bulky fall coats over their long, plain dresses, plus bonnet covered heads.
Our first stop was at a rundown superstore where Rebecca and Taylor bought groceries with cash. Marley wasn’t LA and this place was no high tech mall.
I turned to Zoe. Her expression was long and forlorn. I was tempted to stroke her jaw, dip down to stare into her eyes, say something witty to make her smile.
Instead I stuffed my hands deeper into my pockets and asked, “Do you need anything?”
She stared at the red wound on her hand and her eyes darkened . “I can’t get money anymore, can I?”
Without her chip, Zoe couldn’t access her trust fund or the weekly allowance her dad gave her.
I shook my head and grabbed the back of my neck. All we had was the cash I’d taken from her account, and we’d have to make it stretch.
She scratched her forehead up underneath her bonnet. “Do you know yet where we’re going, once we get a battery?”
“Not yet.” It wasn’t because I hadn’t been thinking hard about our next move. I was certain that Grant, the goon Senator Vanderveen had tasked to return with my severed head on a platter, was busy tracking us down.
The next stop was the recharging station. I lifted the battery, about the size and weight of a lap dog, out of the carriage and into the shop.
I felt something wet fall on my forehead. Not a drop like rain, but light and flakey.
Snow.
I tilted my head up to the grey sky and gaped at the millions of white flakes that were falling.
Zoe’s mouth opened to an O, her eyes sparkling. “I’ve never seen snow before.”
Taylor frowned. “It’s only September. Really early for snow.”
Rebecca tugged on his sleeve. “We have to get home, before we get stuck here.”
“She’s right,” he said. “Make this quick.”
I headed into the shop, and they followed me to get out of the cold.
Inside there was a WebGlass on the wall that was streaming the news. A well-dressed broadcaster was mid report.
“—unprecedented snowfall warning for the north and mid-western states. Global warming is once again being blamed for extreme climate change—”
The outside glass reflected like a mirror. Zoe examined her face.
“God, I look awful.”
“Please,” Rebecca said. “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain.”
Zoe shot her a look. “Okay, man, I look bloody awful.”
Rebecca huffed and turned her back to the mirror. “Reflective surfaces promote pride and vanity. The puffing up of self is the opposite of humility.”
Zoe mumbled, “Whatever.”
“Can I help you?” the attendant asked. He sounded like he had a cold.
“Yeah, I need a—” I stopped mid sentence and understood why the attendant’s voice sounded strange. It was a humanoid. It was fashioned after a man, but its skin was too perfect and its expression too bland.
Rebecca squawked.
“Leave at once,” Taylor said to Rebecca.
She scooted out the door. “Are you coming?”
“Be right there,” Taylor said. He turned to us, “We can’t do business here. Let’s go.”
“Look, I need this recharged,” I said. “Then we can leave you good people in peace. If you have a problem with it, wait for us outside.”
Taylor hesitated then said, “Five minutes.”
The humanoid’s eyebrows lifted in an animated manner. “Of course. It will be ready in four point seven nine minutes.”
I hung back with Zoe as we waited and watched the news. Zoe gasped when pictures of our faces flashed from the screen. A nation-wide alert had been issued for the Senator of California’s granddaughter, and for me as her possible captor. My eyes darted outside to where Taylor and Rebecca waited in the carriage. Good thing they’d left the station before the news broke.
The humanoid seemed oblivious to the broadcast. Even though our images were in full view as it did its task, it didn’t register the sig
nificance. Identifying fugitives wasn’t part of its programming.
Four point seven nine minutes later Zoe and I walked out with a fully charged battery. I sent her a look that said that was close. She nodded subtly.
It was dark and snowing hard when we returned to the commune. The carriage got stuck in the driveway, and I was glad the street crews had cleared the highway enough that we could get back at all. As it was, angry motorists honked their disapproval at us for slowing them down and I was happy we hadn’t been run off the road.
I went with Taylor to put the horses into the barn leaving Zoe to help Rebecca bring the supplies into the kitchen.
When Taylor and I returned to the house we heard angry voices coming from the living room.
“Pacifism ain’t the only way, Finn! They’re everywhere. If we don’t do nothing, we ain’t got a chance.”
“Pacifism is God’s way. His will be done.”
“Is it God’s will to let his creation be overtaken by machines? They’re the workings of the Antichrist, idols made by men who think they’re smarter than God himself.”
“But God is the one to judge. Vengeance belongs to him.”
“Yeah,” Ike blustered, “well, wait until they’re storming down our drive, wantin’ to kill your family.”
Simon, who apparently was the voice of reason in this place, said, “Don’t blow it out of proportion, Ike. No one’s going to die.”
I tossed Taylor a questioning look, then headed straight to bed. Their “family” beefs didn’t concern me.
I was determined to grab Zoe at the break of dawn and I doubted that I’d sleep at all that night. Though I’d committed to not touching her, to not manipulating her emotions so she’d be who I wanted her to be, I still thought of her and the time we’d spent together before. A lot. Too much.
I tossed and turned, suppressing a grumble over the lumps in the cot that felt bigger than they had the night before. I was so concerned about my own discomfort, I didn’t notice when someone entered the blackness of the boys’ bedroom. I jumped when I felt a nudge on my shoulder.
“Wake up, Noah.” It was Finn Ranger’s voice dialed down to a low whisper. “I have something to show you.”