“Ah…I suppose I should get back to the nearest N3 station and check in with my bosses. They should be very happy to get my on-the-scene report from the Balmore attack.”
Dillon glanced for an instant at Emma, then spoke softly. “I… I guess I should be getting back to Armagost Farm – not to work, but I’ve been gone for a while now and I’m sure my parents are getting worried.”
“You mean Simon,” said Ryan. “Yeah, I’ll bet he is…”
“There’s no way I’m going back to Armagost!” said Cal. “Unless they catch me. I’ll find a new safe-house or something.”
Ryan reached out for his sister’s hand, found it. He felt a sudden emptiness, as though staring out into absolute darkness. In that moment he realized they had no place to go.
“We have no idea what we’re going to do next.”
With a distressed expression on his face, Ella Grace Jantz tugged at Ryan’s sleeve. “Don’t you have a mommy and daddy you can go home to?”
Ryan could hear the anxious concern in the little girl’s voice. “No, Ella Grace… not here. They’re not anywhere near here.” He didn’t want to think about where his parents might really be…
Emma attempted a small smile. “It’s okay, Ella Grace.”
“Of course it is!” said Orin Jantz. “You three can stay here with us until things get sorted out.”
“Really?” said Emma. “We wouldn’t want to be a burden…”
Irina smiled. “We can always use a little help around the farm. Until you figure out how to get back together with your big brother, you’re more than welcome to stay with us.”
“I don’t think there’s any way we could ever pay you back for such kindness,” said Cal.
Orin waved off the comment, smiled as he stroked his beard. “Just be the good people that you are. That’s all the payback we require. Folks like you are the proof we need for our cause. We know humans aren’t just dumb animals.”
Ryan hated to hear anyone talk like that, even though he knew they intended no insult. The prevailing attitudes toward humans in this world would not be changing overnight. Indeed, they wouldn’t be changing ever without no-carn people like the Jantz family.
Just then, Ambrose looked over at Dillon. “What say you, sonny? We should head back toward the Farm.”
Dillon looked at him with a bit of surprise. “Really? Tonight? Already?”
“I need to get back to work,” said Ambrose. “And that’s all the sooner I can try to find us another safe house. Can you drive that car?”
Dillon nodded, pushed back from the table and stood. “I think I can handle it.”
“Good, then! You can drop me off at the news offices in Wilmton, I can get on from there.”
“Please be careful,” said Emma. “Both of you.”
Ryan moved closer to Dillon, touched his sleeve. “There’s something you need to do for us.”
“Sure…what is it?”
“Tell the people at the Farm we…we didn’t make it out of the attack in Balmore. Tell them we’re dead.”
Dillon looked from Ryan to his sister and back to him. “Good thinking, Ryan. They won’t be looking for you after that.”
Emma held up her index finger. “One more thing – try to get word to Telly. Let hi, know we’re okay, but we need for him to figure out a way to get us all back home.”
Dillon paused. “I can do that. But maybe not right away. I’ve got to be careful.”
“Of course,” said Ryan. “Do the best you can.”
They shook hands and Ryan felt a little strange doing it. He wanted to trust Dillon, especially since he knew the guy had probably saved Emma’s life. But Ryan wished he could be more certain about the whole situation. Why would a young lycan want to live among the human slaves? It just didn’t make a lot of sense.
Several hours later he was sliding under some covers in the attic loft along with Emma and Cal. They’d helped Orin and Irina Jantz lay out some temporary sleeping quarters under the rafters of the old farmhouse. For not knowing them very well, Ryan still liked the hippie-dippie couple a lot. They had a simple child-like honesty about them that shone through all their words and actions.
“Tomorrow we’ll have a special treat for the three of you,” Orin said as he descended the ladder to the loft.
“You’ve already done so much for us,” Emma said.
Ryan’s curiosity was piqued. “What is it?”
“Wellll, we’re taking you to a protest.”
“Protesting what?”
Orin grinned. “You’ll see.” He chuckled the rest of the way down the ladder.
Emma looked at Cal. “Protesting what?”
Cal shook his head. “No idea. But he seems pretty happy about it.”
“Wellll,” Ryan said in imitation of their host when they were lying in the dark, “this is comfy in a weird sort of way, but we can’t get too comfy. Know what I mean?”
He sensed Emma nodding. “Right. I mean the Jantzes are nice and all, but how long can we stay here? I mean, realistically, you know?”
Cal shook his head slowly, as if to dismiss Emma’s question. “Anything’s better than Armagost… don’t forget that.”
“Who can forget?” said Emma. “But I understand what Ryan means. We want to get back to Telly – so we can all get back home.”
Cal considered this, combed his hand through his unruly hair. “This place… Nocturnia… it’s really all I know. I guess it’s hard for me to want to get back… back to where I’m supposed to belong, where I’m told I belong, when I can’t remember ever really being there.”
Ryan thought about that. Cal was definitely in tough spot. Amelia had found him here as a toddler and raised him. Nocturnia was all he knew. It had to be been hard for him to imagine ever escaping his life here and leaping into the unknown.
Emma smiled as she lay back on her pillow. “Home’s so different from here, Cal. Don’t be afraid. You’ll like it a lot.”
Cal’s noncommittal grunt revealed he didn’t really believe what Emma was trying to tell him. And for some reason, that kind of irritated Ryan.
“Okay, listen to me. I know you might think I’m just a little kid, but I need to tell you something right now – you might be okay living the rest of your life in this awful place, but we are definitely not, okay? My and I are going to do everything we can to get out of here and back to where we don’t have to worry about being either slaves or food.”
Cal nodded. “Understood. I don’t blame you – and I hope you plan to take me with you. I’m the one who grew up at Armagost, remember?”
“He’s right, Ryan,” said Emma. “You need to chill a little, okay?”
He didn’t answer right away. His sister was probably right and he was acting out of line, but Ryan felt he was somehow tuned into this world in ways that Emma and Cal were not. Oh sure, she had her “feelings” and even sometimes things that might be called true “visions,” but Ryan believed he was the only one who truly got it.
Which was simply this: Nocturnia was a very dangerous place.
And the only thing that mattered was to get out of here as soon as possible.
But in the meantime he couldn’t help wondering what “surprise” the Jantzes had in store for them.
9
Ergel stopped to compose himself before entering Master Simon’s offices. His boss was working late tonight and he hated talking to him when he wasn’t sure what he should be saying. He was not good at estimacations on what would make Simon happy or angry at any moment. Exhaling slowly, letting his breath rattle through his thick-barreled chest, Ergel paused before rapping on the outer door.
“Who is it?!” Simon’s voice resonated through the barrier with a tone that bristled with irritation.
“It would be your Ergel, Master.”
A pause, then: “Oh, all right, come in.”
Pushing the door inward, Ergel stood to wait till it swung clear enough to reveal Simon. The spindly lycan was arched o
ver his large desk strewnicated with papers and parcels.
“Sorry to be the interderuption, but–”
“But what? Just get out with it – why are you here? Now. At this hour.”
Ergel shifted from one foot to the other. “Well, sir you wanted me to report back on my investimications…”
Simon tilted forward, making his thin nose appear even longer, thinner. He studied him for an instant, then gestured for him to keep talking.
“Well, sir, Ergel’s spent the whole day keeping his eyes peeled for the car what motorvated your leases out of here and I have spyded one here and there that may be the very same. If I could catch the driver in the act we may have a body we can stompify and tear up before we turns ’em over to the likes of the Lir.
“If the driver took them into Balmore, it is most likely he has been devoured with…” Simon paused, shook his head softly as if trying to dispel a thought. “With everyone else.”
Ergel could not help but noticate this and wonder if the terrible Master was feeling something… soft… for the terrible fate of his son.
Ergel chanced a comment on the situation. “I suppose that is the factual of the truth of it. But I was just–”
Simon had allowed his gaze to drift off toward the window, then suddenly snapped his back toward Ergel like a predatory bird focusing on its next victim. Ergel tensed in spite of himself.
“You realize, don’t you, my faithful troll, that I have not yet told the boy’s mother. It would so crush her, don’t you think?”
Was this why he was working so late? Delayicating going home?
“Oh yessir, crush her it would. But sooner or late–”
The blast of an airhorn rattled the windows and cut off his words. A repeated series of explosive sounds battered the air all around him.
Jumping up from behind his desk, Simon headed for the courtyard where the commotication continued. Ergel had no choice but to follow him out into the dark of night where a large tow-truck belching excess steam had just grinded to a halt. Hanging off its hook was a battered sedan that looked like it had seen its last ride.
The truck’s driver door swung open to reveal a troll in grimy overalls swinging down to the gravel. He looked at Ergel with a dismissive sneer, then turned to the boss.
“You Master Simon, is youse?”
Hands on hips, Simon towered over the squat, toadish character. “What do you think you’re doing – bringing that junkpile onto my farm?!”
“Because what was drivin’ it when we found it in a big ditch told us to bring ’im to youseself!” The troll reached into his pocket, fished out a crumpled piece of paper. “Here’s the bill for the tow.”
Ergel flinched as he anticipicated his master’s reaction.
Snatching the paper and crushing it into a ball, Simon glared at him. “What are you talking about, you idiot! Get out of here with that heap of scrap metal before I have you taken to the compound!”
Before the driver could respond, the passenger door of the truck opened and Ergel heard a familiar voice. “Wait, father! I can explain everything…”
Through the shadows Ergel made out Dillon jumping down from the truck’s cab. He ran toward his father who stood rigidly waiting for him.
“You are alive, I see. That is good.” Then turning to the driver. “Be gone!”
Withering under the baleful gaze of the towering figure of Simon, the driver troll spun on his squat legs and waddled back to his truck. He climbed into the cab and jammed the big rig into gear and vacated the front lot as quickly as the lumbering vehicle would allow.
After watching the steam beast depart, Simon directed his glare toward Ergel. “What kind of fool do I have in my employ that you could get things so unflaggingly wrong?”
Ergel knew it would be unwise to answer this question, but he heard himself starting to speak anyway. “But I–”
“How dare you tell me something so obviously untrue!?” A horriblistic darkness was growing behind Simon’s eyes which Ergel had seen before. Not good.
Dillon looked confused. “Father, what’s going on?”
“This incompetent numbskull told me you had been caught in the attack in Balmore and had been killed.”
“Well, the first part’s true, but I was able to escape.”
Ergel tried his best imitation of smile. “There was no way of me tellin’ you done that… I was left with my supposifications.”
“Quiet, idiot.” Simon turned from Ergel and regarded his son with curiosity. “And how did you manage to escape?”
Ergel listened as Dillon quickly described how he’d sealed himself in an elevator just as the swarm of eaters flooded the streets. Ergel nodded and thought he could certainly explain there was no way he could have known such a thing.
“Very clever of you,” said Simon. “And what about the others? Your human ‘friends’?”
Dropping his gaze, Dillon’s expression flashed a brief sadness. “They didn’t make it. They were trying to get through the revolving doors… that’s when they got caught.”
“So…they are gone?
Dillon could only shake his head.
Ergel said nothing. Hard to figurate what Master Simon was thinking.
“This is most unfortunate. Falzon does not like to lose property. Ergel, of course, had not been able to verify their loss, but now that we have a firsthand witness, you will have to tell the Lir.”
“What?!” said Dillon and Ergel at the same time. “Father, you want me to speak to Falzon… are you serious?”
“You and this worthless troll, yes.” Simon rubbed his hands together as if dispensing with something sticky on them.
“I’ve heard stories of how that monster goes off on people that upset him,” said Dillon. “Don’t you think that might be a bad idea?”
Simon showed them a twisted grin. “It is less likely he will unleash his usual anger on a small boy who was a victim of the attack. You might want to add something about how you tried to save his property and failed. You know, play the hero a bit.”
Dillon looked uneasified. “When do you want us to do this? It’s too late tonight to–”
“He’s not even in the country. But as soon as Falzon returns from a trip to his homeland…”
“Are you coming with me?”
Simon shook his head. “That should not be necessary.”
Dillon shook his head. “You know, I thought you’d be really glad to see me…”
“Oh, I am. I most certainly am.” Simon reached to place a spidery hand on the boy’s shoulder – just for a second. “But after this escapade of yours, I can see there will have to be some changes made around here.”
Though Ergel did not like the sound of that, he was not about to be asking for any clarifitication.
But Dillon pushed forward: “What kind of changes?”
Simon grinned again. “Well, for one… you will no longer be working on this farm. You will not be fraternizing with any more humans. And you will not be having anything to do with those silly groups of vegetable-eating simpletons.”
“You mean like Mother?”
“Mind your tongue. I have no control over your mother and her no-carn silliness. You, however, are another matter.”
The boy said nothing and Ergel tried to calculicate Dillon’s thinking, but his face had become a stiff mask, and Ergel realized at that moment how hard it must be to have a father like Simon.
Ergel much preferred his own childhood when a fatherly slap across the side of his head with a piece of lumber was all he had to worry about. It hurt when it happened, but then it was over with.
Part 2
Sheeple and Madmen
10
…blind…snow blind…
Ryan shivers as he leans into the blizzard. His body is swathed in a hooded cloak of heavy quilted material, but still the icy wind cuts through him. The snow is rushing horizontally, peppering his cheeks and forehead around the tinted goggles he wears.
Eve
ry so often the wind eases and he sees the outline of a vast surrealistic structure far ahead of him. Its walls run at strange, almost impossible angles that don’t seem to meet properly. He blinks for a better look but that only increases the strangeness. Trying to make sense of it makes his head ache. He’s almost glad when the snow closes in again, enveloping him, reducing his world to formless white.
And still he trudges on, pushing relentlessly on through the frozen wastes toward that mammoth building.
As the wind takes a breath again, his attention is drawn to his left… something huge moving through the snow, heading toward the destination.
BLUTHKALT! the wind screams. BLUTHKAAAAALT! BLUTH –
“Ryan! Ryan, are you all right?”
Emma’s voice…and someone shaking him.
Ryan jerked awake. “Wha–?”
“Are you okay?”
He wasn’t so sure about that, but he said, “Yeah-yeah. Why?”
“You were twisting and turning and making sounds like a scared puppy.”
“Weird dream. Really weird.”
He looked around, disoriented. Then he remembered: the Jantz’s’ loft.
“Must’ve been. Hey, breakfast is on. Cal’s already down there. Pancakes and syrup.”
His stomach growled with hunger. “And bacon?”
Emma gave him one of her patented you-dummy looks. “They’re no-carns, remember?”
“Oh, man!” He thudded his palm against his forehead. “Right! Please don’t let me say anything stupid.”
She smiled. “No one’s figured out how to do that.”
“Ha. Ha. Meet you down there.” As she turned to go, a thought hit him. “Hey, Em. You know those ‘feelings’ you get?”
“Yes,” she said slowly, giving him a wary look, as if expecting him to make fun of her.
“Do they seem stronger to you since you’ve been here?”
She frowned. “Funny you should say that. They do. Remember how I felt something bad coming in Balmore? It was so strong.”
Ryan nodded. “And you were right on the money. You think Nocturnia might have amped up this talent of yours?”
Family Secrets (The Nocturnia Chronicles Book 2) Page 6