March Forth (The Woodford Chronicles Book 1)

by Deirdre S. Hopton

  “I see,” Larsen said coldly. “Because of a movie?”

  “No sir,” Eric said, finally looking up from his shoes and staring the General in the eye. “Because of you.”

  “Yeah dude, it’s getting, just, like, uncomfortable,” John explained. “I’m not really sure where you’re going with this whole brain-erasing business, but I feel like you should just leave this chick alone.”

  Standing behind the General, Steven could not see the man’s face. He was fairly glad about that, just at that moment. He could almost feel icy waves of anger emanating from his commanding officer.

  “I see,” Larsen said quietly, then turned slowly to look at Steven. “And you, Drisbane? Do you feel the same way?”

  “I…no…of course not, sir.” As he said the words, he honestly hoped he was telling the truth. “I would never question your orders.”

  The General nodded once, then turned back to the techs. “You do understand that if you’re removed from this assignment, all memory of it will have to be taken away from you.”

  There was a pause as the techs glanced at each other, then nervously, unexpectedly broke into laughter.

  “What, exactly, is comical about that?” Larsen asked, his voice sharp.

  “Well, you see,” John explained, “you’d kind of need us to design the equipment for the procedure. And we’re not going to do that.”

  As the general opened his mouth to respond, Eric picked up what looked like a souped-up Broom. The round, black button was the same, but it was on a much longer base. He held it up and mumbled, “We made this instead.”

  “And what, pray tell, is that?”

  “Insurance,” Eric said, and pushed the button.

  Every device the techs had made, from the jumbled heaps of wires around the room to the Wand in Larsen’s hand, vanished. Steven looked around, aghast, then experimentally felt in the pocket where he kept his SmartWand; it, too, was gone. He glanced at Larsen and saw only seething rage. He decided he had to act to diffuse the situation.

  “Guys. Listen,” he began. “There’s gotta be a way we can work this out. Compromise.”

  John snickered. “Doesn’t feel so great, being at someone else’s mercy with no real control, does it? Welcome to our world.”

  “You’ve never been at anyone’s mercy,” Steven protested. “You’re our coworkers. You do your job, and we appreciate you.”

  “Listen, navy boy,” John continued, “maybe you think this shit is okay, but nobody is wiping any part of my mind away just so I can be off the assignment of torturing a waitress. This is not what I signed on for.”

  “We just wanted to find Carver,” Eric interjected quietly.

  “Precisely, Eric. That’s what we came to this organization for. When we learned about David Carver, we wanted to find him and fix him and pick his brain. We left fucking NASA because we thought we could learn more here. Wiping away people’s brains was not part of the deal. We just wanted to learn more about magic.”

  “Guys, come on. We’re still trying to find Carver, but this woman has turned up, and could be connected to him,” Steven said, as soothingly as he could. “That’s the only reason for all this.”

  “Really?” John’s voice was about four octaves higher than usual. “You’re really gonna stick with that?” He gestured toward Larsen and squeaked, “He just berated her and abused her for how fucking long, because Carver? Are you actually brainwashed, man? Did he get to you first?”

  “I’m not brainwashed,” Steven snapped back, before pausing and trying to reel his anger in. He took a deep breath. “Look, even if you don’t approve of the methods we’ve been using or the reasoning behind this assignment, she has now stolen organization technology. She has my Broom. We can’t allow that to go on.”

  Eric brandished his own, Broomlike device and mumbled, “Not anymore.”

  There was a momentary hush throughout the room as that statement sunk in for everyone present. Larsen broke the silence. “Gentlemen, where has all of the equipment gone?”

  “Someplace safe,” John said, “where it will stay until we’ve had a little talk and worked on some issues;”

  “What sort of issues?” Larsen’s voice had become so icy, Steven thought he might actually feel colder upon hearing it.

  “Well, for one, when did we become bad guys? How is kidnapping waitresses and brainwashing them going to help us find Carver?” John’s voice sounded more agitated than Steven had ever heard him.

  “Why are you so certain she’s connected to him?” Eric asked quietly.

  Larsen heaved a sigh. “We’ve been over this. There is no such thing as coincidence. She somehow, by accident, managed to meet him, then Drisbane found her. Her ability to see through his shields is an obvious red flag. There’s something going on with that woman, and we need to get to the bottom of it. She met him!” He yelled the last part loudly enough to make all three of the other men jump. “She met him, when we’ve been searching for him for eighteen years!”

  “I’ve only been working on this assignment for like a year, bro,” John acerbically observed. Steven shushed him.

  Larsen continued as if he hadn’t noticed the interruption. “There must be something about her, something we’ve missed. There’s no other explanation. I’ve been looking for Dave – for Carver, I mean – for so long! How could this …this …stranger be allowed to find him? What possible quality does she have that I lack? I’ve been LOOKING FOR HIM FOR EIGHTEEN YEARS!” His voice rose, and cracked, and Steven was horrified to realize he had begun to sob. “It’s just not fair,” Larsen sounded like a four year old having a tantrum. “It’s just not fair.”

  Awkward silence prevailed for a long moment before Eric ventured, “I don’t really think that’s a good reason for wiping away people’s brains.”

  The General gave no response except continued sobbing, so Steven responded for him. “Everything else aside, there must be some connection. Not only did she meet him, several times, but she could see me when I was fully cloaked. How do you explain that, unless we consider the possibility that Carver did something to her? Do you have some other explanation?”

  John and Eric glanced at each other, and Eric shrugged almost imperceptibly before looking back to his shoes. John spread his hands and suggested brightly, “The Lord works in mysterious ways?”

  “There’s got to be more to it than that.”

  Eric and John glanced at each other, and Steven thought he detected a sense of alarm in that glance. He wondered what the techs were hiding.

  “Even if that’s true, there must be a better way to get to the bottom of things,” John finally answered. “We haven’t even got anyone from the Boogie Man Patrol working on this assignment to prevent the energy’s negative backlash. Do you really want to use the energy with negative intentions? Can’t you imagine what that could bring back on us?”

  “Well… but…,” the General was still weeping, and uncharacteristically flustered. “If all the extra nonsense is wiped from her brain, maybe it will show us the truth that she’s hiding. Maybe it will show us how she fits in to all of this. That’s not negative intention, it’s furthering our mission. We are meant to bring Carver in by any means necessary, and the end justifies the means in this case.”

  “I doubt she would think so,” Eric murmured.

  “It would help her, too, Eric,” Steven stepped in again. “The General has discovered that she has some pretty serious issues, mentally. This would give her a fresh start.”

  The techs glanced at one another once more, then John said drily, “I really don’t think it’s up to us to decide who’s got issues we should wipe away. Larsen’s over there crying his eyes out because he’s jealous this lady got to see his friend and he couldn’t. You,” he addressed Steven, “can’t seem to have an original thought unless someone tells you to. Eric has the social skills of an agoraphobic mole. And I…. well, I just don’t think we are in any position to be judging whether or not to wipe away
part of someone’s brain.”

  A snarky response was forming on Steven’s lips, but it was chased away by surprise when Larsen whispered, “You’re absolutely right.”

  “He…what?” Steven asked.

  “He’s completely right.” The General’s voice was hushed and thick with tears. “I’ve been going about this all wrong. I’ve let my emotions get the better of me. I should have been trying to get her to work with us voluntarily, rather than forcing my will on her. Carver himself would be ashamed of me.” He wiped away his tears and clapped John on the shoulder. “Thank you, boys. Both of you. It took an incredible courage to make me see I’ve been wrong, and I am incredibly grateful to you both.”

  Both John and Eric shrugged, and John said, “It’s all good, man.”

  Steven felt overwhelmingly confused, and more than a little angry. All he had been doing was following Larsen’s orders, and now the General had not only reversed his position completely, but expressed gratitude to the techs for rebelling against his original stance. It was maddening, baffling, and unbelievably frustrating.

  He had no idea how to react, so he stayed silent for as long as he could.

  David

  He had been walking along the sandbar for as long as he could remember, now, which truthfully wasn’t very long at all. However, he remembered why he was walking, and that was an improvement on things. For so long, he had wandered with no idea of why, how, or where he was going. At least now he knew: he was looking for someplace real. He was looking for where he belonged. He was looking for the man in his vision, who he was pretty sure could help him, though he didn’t know why he thought that.

  As he walked, he murmured, “Use my gifts. Find a world where I can be safe. Find you again.” At least, he murmured the closest approximation of those words that he could muster.

  Although the sun shone brightly, it was not terribly hot. He waded through the shallow water that occasionally flowed over the sandbar, or he walked on the sand when it did not, without feeling hot, or tired, or really much of anything at all. He simply walked, almost oblivious to his surroundings. None of it seemed real. He just wanted something real.

  This went on and on, an unchanging blur of sun and water and sand, until suddenly he saw a flash of light in his periphery. He paused and looked around; for a moment, but saw no change in the scenery. Then, as he began to walk forward again, he saw a woman standing about twenty yards ahead of him. She was looking around with an air of apparent interest. When she noticed him, she smiled and waved. He smiled and waved back, almost against his will.

  There was something familiar about her. He walked closer, unafraid and unperturbed by her sudden, inexplicable presence.

  “Hi there,” she called as he walked closer.

  He nodded wordlessly in response, unable to remember what one says in such situations.

  “Are you… are you David Carver?” she stammered.

  He thought very hard about that. He knew those words, they definitely sounded very familiar. Although he wasn’t one hundred percent sure, he nodded. He was pretty sure he might be that thing she had said.

  “I’m Deanna. Do you remember me at all?”

  He stared at her for a few seconds, then shrugged.

  “I used to… you used to… sometimes I gave you cigarettes. Before. When I worked at the BitterSweet Bistro in Woodford. Do you remember?”

  He considered her words. Many of them did not make sense to him, but he felt like they should, somehow. They conjured images in his mind of a crowded street and of an empty, dimly lit room filled with tables and stools, with this lady in both places. He remembered trying to tell her how he had found himself there, even though he did not really recall himself, and he remembered that she was nice to him. He remembered she told him he could be safe in her strange world. All of these things appeared as vague images in his mind; for no logical reason, he simply felt safe with this woman.

  He thought all this, and he nodded slowly. “Nice lady,” he offered.

  She grinned and nodded. “Yes, you called me that once or twice. I’m glad you remember. I think maybe we can help each other.”

  He cocked his head to the side and looked at her quizzically. He couldn’t figure out what it was about her that he found so reassuring. He felt like he understood her, and vice versa, even if he didn’t fully understand what she was saying. A voice in his memory whispered: “You know very little, right now. But you did know many things. You knew the cause and solution to the problem you’re having now. You knew what was important in life. You knew me. You knew you weren’t alone.”

  He wasn’t sure where those words came from or who had said them, but he was pretty sure they were important. “Not alone,” he murmured in his hoarse voice.

  “That’s right, you’re not alone,” she answered. “I’m here now, and You is always with you, even when you don’t know it.” She giggled. “That sounds funny, when I say it like that. He told me to call him ‘You,’ but maybe you don’t know him by that? He’s a very tall man who wears robes. I think maybe you knew him, once.”

  David’s brow furrowed slightly as he tried to figure out what she was saying, and he said nothing. It felt like something in his brain was jiggling as he listened to her speak. It was not necessarily an unpleasant sensation, but an odd one. He didn’t know what to make of it. He jiggled his head a bit to see if it would stop the feeling; it didn’t. He waved his hand to encourage her to talk more, so that he could explore the feeling further. She looked at him quizzically, as if she didn’t understand the request. He waved again and, after searching his mind thoroughly for the right words, said, “More.”

  “You mean… do you mean more of a description?”

  He shrugged and nodded.

  “Well, he’s very, very tall. Maybe six and a half feet tall. And he has dreadlocks that go to his shoulders, and a cocoa complexion. He carries a staff, and he wears sandals. He, um. He’s not actually a person. He’s a connection to the Divine, or something. It’s all a bit confusing. But I think maybe I need to help you find him.”

  Maybe it wasn’t actually his brain jiggling. Maybe it was something IN his brain. A thought? A memory? Maybe it was waking up. Maybe it was dancing. He was pretty sure thoughts didn’t dance like that, though. Whatever the case, it felt weird, so he took up the metaphorical security blanket of repeating his mantra. “Use my gifts. Find a world where I can be safe. Find you again.”

  After he had repeated it several times, he realized she was listening intently and even watching his lips move, as if she were trying very hard to understand him. People didn’t usually do that. Lots of new things happening.

  “Yes!” she suddenly exclaimed, delightedly. “You need to find You again! That’s exactly right!”

  He stopped talking and smiled with her. He liked smiling, he hadn’t done much of it in a long time. It felt nice.

  “Do you actually have any idea what I’m talking about?” she asked.

  He shrugged, still smiling.

  She sighed. “Okay, we need to figure this out.” She looked around, then said, “Do you know where we are?”

  He looked around, too. Then he said, “Not mine.”

  She nodded. “I think we’re in my mind, actually. Which doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but it seems to be true. And I think… I think we can help each other, but I’m not sure how, really. I need to become queen of my world, apparently, and I think I have to help you regain your connection to… to… to You. And to your world.” She paused and contemplated their surroundings for a moment. “When I met him, he told me that sometimes worlds collide, and fit into each other in any way they can. I think your world is stuck in my world, right now.”

  He nodded, staring at the sky. “Motorcycle,” he offered. That was all he really remembered of his world.

  “Yes,” she sighed again. “I wonder if the organization knows where your brand new motorcycle is. Those men…Steven Drisbane and Benjamin Larsen. Do you know them?�
�

  He blinked. There was something familiar in those words. “Bed?” He shook his head; that wasn’t right. “Ben,” he corrected himself.

  “You do know them,” she murmured. “Maybe that could help.”

  They sat in companionable silence for a few moments. He closed his eyes for a moment, and the vision he had had before he started walking the sandbar flashed in his mind.

  “Always safe, my lady, as long as you choose to be,” he intoned, repeating the words of the man in his vision. He opened his eyes again and saw that the nice lady was looking at him with big eyes and an open mouth; she was surprised. He didn’t know why.

  “Can you do me a favor, David?” she asked once she had gotten over her surprise. She took his hand in hers, and said, “Let’s both just close our eyes and clear our minds, and be open to connection.”

  He shrugged. She put her free hand over his eyes and said, “Close your eyes.” He obeyed.

  They sat like that for a long while, holding each other’s hands with their eyes closed and their minds open. After a bit, he felt a hand on his head and opened his eyes, expecting to see the nice lady.

  “Hello, old friend,” the robed man said, smiling fondly at him.

  “Find you again!” he exclaimed, happily.

  “All you ever had to do was look,” You said, and offered David a hand to help him up.

  Benjamin

  He was incredibly embarrassed about the fact that he couldn’t seem to stop crying, but there was no help for it. It was as if all of the emotions he had pushed aside for eighteen years had finally broken through some dam and were now leaking out of his eyes.

  He tried to wipe away his tears as he said, “Thank you, boys. Both of you. It took an incredible courage to make me see I’ve been wrong, and I am incredibly grateful to you both.”

  The techs seemed as embarrassed by his gratitude as he felt about his own tears, so he switched tactics. “So now what?” he asked. “I am open to your advice, gentlemen.”