He looked at me.
“Well?” I prompted.
“Green,” he said. “What’s yours?”
“Red.”
He smiled.
A few more steps and I asked, “What’s your favorite kind of ice cream?”
“Vanilla.” The smile remained. “You?”
“Chocolate chip cookie dough.”
He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t like chocolate.”
I halted abruptly. “What kind of person doesn’t like chocolate?”
He shrugged, glanced back at me, and said, “What kind of person does?” then hurried forward.
I laughed a little and darted after him.
It became a game then. His favorite season was fall. Mine was spring. His favorite book was A Tale of Two Cities. Mine was Badge of Infamy. His favorite food was lentil soup. Mine was fried chicken. His favorite game was chess. Mine was charades.
I got him to laugh. We were connecting.
Then I made a mistake. “What’s your favorite holiday?”
He stopped smiling, and didn’t answer for a moment. After an uncomfortably long pause, he replied, “Christmas.”
No explanation for his change of mood was forthcoming, nor did he ask my favorite.
After a moment I asked, “Is that part of your gestern?”
Predictably, he shrugged. “Mom always loved Christmas.”
Our mother, who had contracted Langham’s disease while pregnant with me and had used her last few days to take me to the Doctor so I would be safe. Safe from my father who wanted to take the one piece of radialloy, the one cure, away from me and give it to her.
Our mother, who had given her life for mine. She loved Christmas.
“Do you... blame me for her death at all?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer, but I couldn’t help asking.
He spun towards me. “No. Don’t you dare think like that.” He gripped my right arm and squeezed fiercely, and in his eyes I saw the reversal August from weeks ago. “Not ever.”
I could only swallow and nod. He let go and turned to keep walking.
After a moment he said, in his normal voice again, “I’m sorry. I just... really don’t want you to think that.”
I didn’t respond. My chest hurt.
The sun had long since disappeared behind the trees when we stopped for the night again, leaving the air gray and chilled.
We didn’t speak until he handed me my food, a can of warm pork and beans, and sat beside me near the fire.
“Do you blame yourself for her death?” he asked.
I wanted to say no, but the word choked me. I just looked at him.
He put both arms around me and pulled me close. I squeezed him, too tightly.
“If it weren’t for me, you’d still have them both.”
“Hey.” He gently pushed me away and held me by my shoulders. “I’d rather have you.”
I shook my head, vision slightly blurred. “You only say that because this is how things are. If you’d never known me, you’d be happy with them and you wouldn’t know any different.”
“You don’t know that. Maybe he would have turned out the same way and broken her heart. Maybe she would have died anyway. Anything could have happened. But this is what did happen, and... I’m grateful. It’s not easy, but I mean that. You always tell me God works everything together for good. I try to believe that. But you have to believe it, too.”
He pulled me close again and said the only that that was left to say, the best thing that could be said. “Besides, what about the Doctor?”
My dear Doctor, who only had me in all the world.
I relaxed against him, quietly, letting myself be comforted by the fire, and the crickets, and my brother’s arms around me.
CHAPTER VIII
It started the same. I was in a dungeon; I was very small. I was cold. I could hear footsteps. I huddled close to the hard, rough stone wall this time instead of screaming.
“Ursula?”
The voice wasn’t the same. Before it had been vaguely male, but otherwise nondescript. Now, it was low. Gravelly.
“Ursula, I know you’re here. Stop hiding.”
I wasn’t hiding. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I was locked up! I tried to call out, to protest, but no sound would come out.
“Ursula, get out here right now.”
With no transition, a face appeared out of the darkness. “I see you!”
Commander Howitz. Our father. My father.
His face scowled beneath his black hair, and I tried to scream but was paralyzed.
I jerked awake, breathing hard. Adrenaline coursed through me, and I desperately tried to think rationally.
The light was pinkish gray.
The blue ceiling of the tent hovered not far above me.
My sleeping bag was twisted around me after a night of tossing and turning on the hard ground.
The air was cold.
A breath to my right startled me. I turned, expecting to see that August had finally caved and was sleeping nearby.
A large gray shape filled the other side of the tent.
Four legs.
Pointed face.
Alert ears.
Dark eyes.
Wolf.
I froze, staring at the eyes. They stared back.
Think. Don’t freeze up, brain. Think.
I started shaking, but forced myself to breathe. What were you supposed to do when you encountered a dangerous animal?
Not show fear. Not turn your back.
Slowly, I sat up and angled myself away from it and towards the opening of the tent. They are more scared of you than you are of them... right? Or is that just spiders?
I’d barely even seen an animal up close in eleven years, other than the Doctor’s tropical fish. Why had no one prepared me for this possibility?
The wolf just kept watching me. I kept my eyes on it, scooting slowly backwards towards the tent opening. Don’t show fear. I tensed my muscles until my body stopped trembling, and forced myself to ignore the racing of my heart. Just move slowly... don’t take your eyes off of it.
August. Was he okay? My heart raced, but I forced my movements to remain slow and calm. Lord, please let him be okay... please protect me... please protect us...
I reached the opening, still staring the animal in its dark eyes. Slowly, I scooted out and began to stand.
It growled, showing its teeth.
I froze. It didn’t seem to want me to stand up. Should I stay seated? Or stand up and show it I wasn’t afraid? Which was more dangerous?
God, why did I think it was such a good idea to come out into the wilds of another country with no training? Why couldn’t Crash be here... or the Captain...
I didn’t dare look over my shoulder for August. I just kept staring the animal in the face. It kept growling and took a step closer.
Lord help me. Slowly, I stood up.
It kept walking towards me, growling. I couldn’t keep myself from shaking now. Is it like a bear? Do I act tough and walk towards it? Or back away slowly, like a snake? I don’t know what to do...
“August?” I called, very softly.
No reply.
I swallowed hard, and decided to keep backing away.
It followed, growling.
I had to stop shaking. It could sense fear, I knew it could, but the chilly, dewy morning air seeped beneath my skin and combined with my fear to make me tremble uncontrollably.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want, He makes me to lie down in green pastures...
It didn’t help. I began to speak aloud, still backing up. “...He leads me beside the still waters, he restores my soul...”
The Doctor had taught me to say it when I was three years old. In my worst times of fear, it was the only passage I could remember. Hearing the words helped me stop shaking.
My heel touched something soft. August. My heart thumped harder. I didn’t dare turn around—partly because I didn’t want to t
urn my back on the wolf, partly because I was afraid of what I might find. Instead, I kicked backwards, hard. “August?”
Nothing. I could barely hear anything but my heartbeat now. I kicked again. “August?”
Nothing. The wolf approached slowly.
“August!” I screamed.
A shuffle, and I felt him move behind me. I drew in a deep, quick breath.
“August, wake up. There’s a wolf. Come on, wake up now...”
I heard more shuffling as he scrambled to his feet, then his hand, heavy on my shoulder. “Climb a tree.” His words were thick with sleep, but urgent.
“What about...”
“Andi, Climb!”
I darted for the nearest pine tree and gripped its trunk. The growling intensified behind me, and I dug my toes into the bark.
I heard a ripping sound then a repeated thump, like a stick beating the ground.
I didn’t know how to climb a tree. I started crying as I dug my nails into the bark, trying desperately to raise myself up.
“I can’t!” I screamed, turning around and pressing my back to the tree.
August was beating the embers from the night before with a stick that was wrapped with cloth on the end.
The wolf was after me, not him. It approached, teeth bared.
Crash, why can’t you be here...
August’s stick finally caught fire and he bounded after the animal. “Hey!” he yelled.
The wolf turned towards him.
“Go on! Go!” August waved the fire at him. “Go!”
The creature began to slink back, still growling.
“I said go!” my brother screamed, voice hoarse, louder than I’d ever heard him.
With a departing growl, the wolf retreated into the trees and disappeared.
August looked me in the eyes and dropped the torch into the fire pit where he’d gotten it. He just stared at me, panting.
I was still crying, I realized, hyperventilating. I pressed myself against the rough bark, clinging to it, desperate just to feel it solidly behind me.
August hurried to me and held me close. I clung to him, still sobbing, and heard him talking but didn’t put the words together at first. Then I realized he was saying, “I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, Andi... I’m so sorry...”
Sorry? For falling asleep. He should be sorry. He had said he’d keep me safe. He promised.
I just kept clinging to him and crying, and he held me and apologized.
***
We walked on in total silence all that morning. My head hurt from crying and from the stress, and I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. August led the way, staying a few steps ahead of me.
The trees and insects and leaves had long since lost their charm. My feet hurt despite the best of hiking boots, and my shoulders were stiff and aching despite the wonderful new backpack design. My mind felt numb.
I missed the Doctor. I’d tried a couple of times to send him messages on my pad but they were very slow to send. Besides, his replies were so brief and so unlike him that I would almost rather not get them at all. I wished I could call him, but that was out of the question—apparently Austrian international network policies were complicated at best, and streaming anything in or out of the country, especially out here in the wilderness, was almost impossible. But based on the few messages I had gotten, he hadn’t made any significant progress on his research. Nothing concrete, anyway.
When we stopped for lunch, August sat beside me on a rock and finally spoke. “Are you okay?”
I wasn’t, but I said, “Yeah.”
He hesitated, then touched my arm so gently I could barely feel it through the jacket and sweater. “I really am sorry. I... I shouldn’t have thought so much of myself. I should have known I couldn’t stay awake for that long. I just... I did want to take care of you. To try, anyway.”
I didn’t really blame him, and now that the adrenaline and shock had faded into a fuzzy unease that made me jump at every unexpected sound, I didn’t even feel like blaming him. I smiled a little. “Now you know.”
He looked away and took a bite out of his hydrated meal bar.
We finished eating and started on our way again. “It shouldn’t be much longer,” he said as we resumed our hike.
I was so ready for this stage of the journey to be over. But then, my mind helpfully reminded me, who knew how much worse the next stage would be? At least whatever it was, it would bring me one step closer to seeing the Doctor again. And Almira. And the Captain and Guilders. And Olive. Even Crash.
Or would it?
I clenched my fists, determined not to entertain negative thoughts.
“What do you think we’ll find when we get there?” I asked, more to break the silence than because I thought he had any idea.
He shrugged. “I hope we’ll find her safe and that we’ll be able to get her back.”
I pulled out my pad and opened the map of the castle we’d gotten from Edmunds. “He said Dred has her under the castle, right? How are we supposed to get in?”
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll just... feel things out when we get there.”
As he spoke the words, we emerged from a cluster of trees into a clearing.
More than a clearing. It was a small peninsula, jutting out into a smooth, silent lake. And in the center of the peninsula rose a prominent landmark, breaking the desert of brownish green foliage.
A dilapidated brick castle.
October 21st, 2321
6:04 p.m.
Graz, Austria
Crash jerked his head up as his cell door opened. “You owe me at least one phonecall!” he yelled.
An officer in a brown jumpsuit uniform stepped forward. “You are not in America, Herr Crash.”
Crash scrambled to his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. “Can I go now? My cousin is going to be waiting to hear from me.”
The officer glanced at the pad he held. “Eagle Miles Crash. All three very interesting names. Your parents must have had big plans for you.”
Crash set his lips in a firm line. “You can leave my parents out of this. Look, I know you have your rules, and that’s fine, but I really need to get to my cousin. We aren’t here to cause any trouble. Just let us do our thing, then we’ll be out of your country.”
The man turned off the pad. “I’m afraid there won’t be any things done by you, Eagle Miles Crash. Not for a long while.”
CHAPTER IX
“What now?”
August didn’t answer. He just looked at the castle.
It was smaller than I’d expected. One large, square building with a high turret rising from it stood at the far end, with a smaller turret across from it. The two were connected on both sides by crumbling brick walls, which wound around each taking detours here and there for more windows or for what might have once been more turrets. The turret closest to the forest sported an arched doorway that looked stable.
The last golden rays of sunset cast soft light over the the castle and reflected in bright glints off the surrounding water. August had insisted we wait in the cover of the forest until it was dark, hoping that this would help us escape detection. I had peered in vain for any light from the castle windows as the light of the sun diminished. Edmunds had said that the base was underground, after all.
August pulled out his pad and studied the map. “The closest entrance is here.” He pointed to what appeared to be a cellar door on the left side of the map. “He doesn’t know where exactly Dred works or where he keeps Ursula.”
I bit my lip and looked back up at the slowly darkening castle. “Then how are we supposed to proceed? What if he has a hundred guards and a dozen other scientists?”
August raised an eyebrow. “I thought Edmunds said he didn’t think anyone else was here. Besides, don’t you think a hundred guards might be overkill?”
“He wasn’t positive, though,” I whispered. “He hasn’t been in touch with Dred for awhile.” So far we hadn’t seen or hea
rd another human being, but whispering still seemed safest.
In the silence while we considered this, a tiny sound halfway between the whiz of a bullet and a drop of rain from directly over our heads startled us.
“What was that?” I whispered.
As I spoke, I heard it again. And again. And again. Closer and closer together until it was like violent rain. Shadows passed us, and August looked up and pointed. “There are the hundreds of guards,” he said, speaking loudly to be heard over the multiple tiny gusts.
Bats swarmed above, their individual shapes barely discernible as they whizzed by. My eyes followed their trail backwards to the castle, then forward again into the forest we had just hiked through.
I moved a little closer to August.
“You’re not afraid of bats, are you?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Not unless they’re dangerous... these aren’t, are they?”
“No. Just fruit bats.”
We watched the ongoing storm of creatures as they continued to emerge from the old structure to disappear among the trees. The rain-like sound began to lull me into an almost hypnotic state as I watched, and I shook my head a bit to clear it.
I lost track of time, and by the time the crowd had thinned to a few stragglers racing for the cover of the forest, the sunlight had all but vanished.
“Wouldn’t it be creepy to live in a place with that many bats?” I whispered, thinking of little Ursula.
“Probably not once you got used to them.” August turned on his pad and glanced at the map again. “But it does show there probably aren’t many people here. Bats aren’t very sociable.”
I looked towards the castle. The last residual light silhouetted it against a navy sky, the largest turret rising like a sentinel of the lake. “Let’s go, then.”
Following the map, we started towards the door August had noted.
We shed our backpacks when we reached the simple but heavy wooden basement door, which was at an oblique angle to the ground against the east wall of the castle. It didn’t match its surroundings—even in the dark I could see that the wood was new and the handles and lock were polished, though old-fashioned. Someone—Dred?—must have added the door later.
August examined the lock for a moment, a simple tumbler-style contraption, then reached into his backpack and pulled out a pocketknife. “Do you have any needles in your first aid kit?” he asked. I nodded and dug around in the dark to find one for him.
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