“You can’t believe her! She’s the camp hoor!” Ryan yelled.
“It was him,” Regan said, pointing to Father Ryan. “Only they call him Beldane.”
Sarah released Regan and the girl fled back to her parents.
“So what’s your story, Jamie?” Sarah said. “Get tired of the Vatican telling you what to do or did you start to see fairies in the woods?”
The druids started to yell, “He’s one of us! Tell ‘em, Beldane! Tell ‘em, ye wanker!”
Ryan’s eyes were hooded and malevolent as he regarded Sarah. “Feck you,” he snarled.
“Lovely,” Sarah said. “A true model to your cause.” She took two steps toward him and pressed the gun to his head. “Did you see John?”
“It appears I still have some power,” he said smugly.
Sarah stepped back and pointed the gun at the dog sitting at Ryan’s feet.
“Think so?” she asked.
“What kind of creature are you to threaten an innocent animal?”
She cocked the gun.
“I never saw him,” he said, hurriedly. “Not in the camp nor on the road. I swear it.”
“I did, Missus! I saw him!”
The voice startled Sarah. It reminded her so much of John’s at that age. She turned to see a young boy separating from his mother and stepping forward. He was no more than ten years old and dressed in rags. He would have been only six when the bomb dropped. Sarah held her breath as the child came forward and suddenly she didn’t want to hear what he had to say. She put a hand to her mouth and took a step backward but he came on.
“What’s your name, lad?” Mike asked him.
“Aedan,” he said. His mother came up behind him and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder but didn’t try to stop him.
“We were in the woods,” Aedan said. He looked up at his mother and she nodded at him to continue. “His hair had twigs tied in it and branches on his shoulders, like this.”
He demonstrated where the branches had set on John’s shoulders.
“He said he was the son of the Wicker Man,” Aedan said, “and needed the bigger boy what had come to camp the day before.”
Sarah blinked back tears. She felt Mike’s arm strong and supporting at her waist.
“Cor, we knew there ain’t no Wicker Man,” Aedan said. “I watched me mam help build him!” A light laughter broke the building tension in the crowd. Even the druids seemed to relax a little.
“What did you tell him?” Mike asked.
“That the big lad run off! Wasn’t Cormac clean mad at that?” He looked at his mother and then at Sarah. “Your lad left straight away, Missus. Went north. He said the tree gods was pissed off and I wasn’t to tell Cormac he’d come.” He shrugged. “I knew he wasn’t really one of the gods, but he was cool.”
The tears ran down Sarah’s face and she nodded at the boy. “Thank you,” she said to him. “Thank you for telling me.”
He’s alive. They’re both alive.
Mike held her and then glanced at Declan, indicating Ryan with a jerk of his head. “Lock ‘im up, Declan. Sarah and I’ll take him and Margaret both to Dublin tomorrow.”
“Can a priest get a fair trial in Ireland?” Sarah asked as Declan’s men approached the priest. “Or will they just let him go?”
“I have no idea,” Mike said. “Nothing is the same any more.”
As Declan’s men manhandled Ryan through the gates of the compound, Mike called after him.
“But if I find either of me sons dead, however it happened, ye filthy tosser, I’ll come for you. All the way to Dublin. And beyond if need be.”
“We both will,” Sarah said. “And we’re taking the dog.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The rest of the day flew by in a flurry of work. Sarah and Fiona organized a special feast by the center cookfire to be attended by everyone in the compound. Tonight they would have their own thanksgiving for the safe return of their men and little Ciara and for the successful defense of the compound.
After Margaret and Ryan were secured in the camp’s makeshift jail, Mike took five men to the druid camp to dismantle it. There was very little in the way of possessions. The boy Aedan and his mother requested and were granted temporary asylum at the compound. From the brief conversation he had with the woman, Mike predicted the two would eventually be welcomed as permanent residents. She’d lost her husband and her baby the year before and she and Aedan had been living in the woods eating berries and roots when they were found by the druids.
The rest of the druids were escorted out of the area dragging their broken down caravans and mangy herd of goats behind them.
That night, with the crackling bonfire shooting sparks into the dark blue sky, the fifty members of the compound, old and new alike, came together at one long table. They ate the gypsies’ roasted pork and several platters of fried chicken with angel rolls. Fresh butter, jam and honey sat at both ends of the long table with beer, wine and soft drinks for the children as gypsies and villagers, Irish and Americans sat down together to give thanks.
Make that American, singular, Sarah thought as she gazed down the table from her seat at the head of it. The hole in her heart ached and all the victories and triumphs in the world could not assuage it. At one point, Mike reached over and squeezed her hand. She wasn’t alone on this celebration night. They were both feeling a wonderful day ruined by heartache—surrounded by laughing friends but with a devastating aloneness that separated them.
Sarah scanned the table and smiled at Fiona with Ciara on her lap. Next to her sat Declan and then Archie. Watching Archie pass the biscuits to Declan and talk with one of the gypsy men on the other side of him, it was impossible to believe he’d once tried to destroy the compound. She wondered if Declan and Mike would ever be able to forget it.
As soon as the meal ended but before the music makers and the whiskey came out, Mike stood up.
“Friends. Today is a day I think we should always remember as an important day in the history of this compound and who we are in it. A family.” Sarah watched him smile and nod at various people around the table and she knew he was keenly aware of the ones who where not there tonight.
“I thank you all for risking your lives for me and for this place we call…” he waved his hand at the compound and then frowned. “Bloody hell. What do we call it, eh? Is there anybody else here hating the sound of New Dublin? Like we’re trying to be like those wankers?”
Several of the gypsy men hooted and made loud flatulating noises, prompting the rest of the group laugh.
“All right,” Mike said, motioning for quiet. “There’s a wee lad in the very back with his hand up. Is that Terry’s lad?”
Terry Donaghue, a thin man with carrot red hair, stood up.
“My lad Darby has come up with a name for us, if you please.”
“Has he then?” Mike said. “Let’s hear it.”
Tommy, Darby’s big brother, gave the boy a push.
“Go on, ye brat!” he said good-naturedly, “tell ‘em the name.”
Nine-year old Darby, with hair as red as his father’s, stood by his seat and cleared his throat.
“I think we should be called Ameriland because we’re part Ireland and part American.”
There was the shortest of pauses and then the table applauded and Tommy pounded his brother on the back. Mike lifted his glass to the table.
“To Ameriland!” The table toasted the new name. Mike turned to Sarah and held out his hand. The two slipped away.
*****
An hour later, they lay in bed holding each other and listening to the music and merrymaking of the compound, their Ameriland, as it rejoiced. They were too wired to sleep even as exhausted as they both were from the day.
“Sure, as much as I enjoyed you throwing yourself at me like you were a wee quivering wife,” Mike said, “I have to admit I suspected at the time there was a plot involved.”
“Mike Donovan, I hope you’re not saying I�
�m not demonstrative.”
“Sure no, Sarah love, not at-tall. In the right mood, when the stars align and the light’s just right, you’re grand that way.”
She slapped his bare chest. “I’m plenty demonstrative. I’m all over you nearly constantly. Ask anyone.”
“Were it were so.” He kissed her and heard her sigh of contentment as she nestled down next to him. “An amazon. That’s what I thought today when I saw ye fighting, naked to the waist, yer hair streaming behind you. Like something out of a mythical tale.”
“No more mythical tales for us. Ever.”
“Speaking of which,” he said. “I heard singing out in the woods when we were looking for the druid camp.”
“It was probably the women of the camp singing.”
“It didn’t sound like anything human.”
“What are you saying? You heard the angels sing? I thought that was earlier tonight.”
“Verra funny,” he said, running a hand down her hip. “I just know what I heard. Even if I never have a decent explanation for it.”
“I’m ready to leave magic and mysticism behind forever. I’m not sure I even want to hear talk of the Easter Bunny this spring.”
“No fears on that score, me darlin’. The Easter Bunny is a singularly American tradition.”
“Well, good.”
“T’is the magic Talking Carrot what comes and visits the wee ones the night before Easter in Ireland.”
“Funny man.” She raised up on one elbow to look at him. “By the way, did you find out who killed Cormac’s second in command?”
“You mean the one who was drawing a bead on you? Aye. It was the woman who lost her husband to cancer last year. Kendra I think her name is.”
Sarah sank back down as if in thought. “Huh. Guess I’m glad I didn’t throw her ass out.” Then she turned to him. “Mike?”
“Yes, love of my life?”
“I couldn’t have done any of this without Archie.”
Mike didn’t answer.
“Mike? Are you listening? He’s fully redeemed himself. He’s family.”
“I hear.” Then he laughed. “Could you believe him up there on the cat walk? When I heard him yell open fire like John frigging Wayne I knew we were all going to do the impossible. He’s got a terrible fear of heights, ye ken.”
“Not today he didn’t,” she said laughing. She smoothed Mike’s hair off his face. “Are you okay with all the people wanting to live here in the compound? Declan said there were families from a village fifty miles away asking to join us.”
“I’m not sure how we’ll be able to control things if we get too much bigger.”
“Probably just take it a day at a time.”
“Wise woman. Wise, amazonian woman. You know, I never meant for us not to trust outsiders or stay to ourselves. Not really. Look at the villagers who fought with us today. Every one of them was afraid enough to believe in magic but when they needed to step up, they did.”
“I think it’s because they realized we’re all in this together.”
“Maybe. Are you sure about letting Regan stay?”
“No. But we need to for Ellen’s sake. We’ll keep a sharp eye on her.”
Even now, it was difficult to look at Regan knowing the part she played in Gavin and John’s departure. Perhaps that would ease with time—when they had the boys back.
They were quiet for a long while and Mike thought Sarah had fallen asleep when she spoke again.
“I can’t believe Siobhan is gone.”
“I know.”
“So much has happened this year and all of it bad.”
“Well, not all of it,” he reminded her. “I wish you’d let me go alone tomorrow. With the baby coming and all.”
“I worry about that, too,” Sarah said, dropping a hand to her abdomen. “But I can’t.” She took in a long breath and let it out slowly. “I’m scared, Mike. I can’t help thinking that our boys left the safety of the compound to march straight into the jaws of a frigging plague.”
“We’ll find them, Sarah.”
She laced her fingers with his. “I know we will.” Her voice was soft and fading as sleep began to claim her.
“Mostly because I can’t live any other way.”
*****
The next morning, Mike and Sarah were both up and had the Jeep packed and parked in front of the cottage and pointing toward the front gate even before Declan was up. It was a cold December day. The sky hanging low with gun-metal gray clouds that promised rain, if not worse. Sarah shivered and pulled her jacket tighter around her. She didn’t care how cold or wet they got. The only thing that mattered now was they were finally about to be on their way.
They had everything they would need for traveling into a world where they had no idea what to expect—guns, food, clothing, medicine. And the determined hope and conviction of two desperate parents.
Sarah pointed to the cluster of people walking toward them. “Here they come,” she said. Declan and Archie flanked the prisoners who walked sluggishly with their hands tied behind their backs.
“I hate sacrificing room for them,” Mike grumbled.
“We could just shoot them,” Sarah said.
Mike gave her a baleful glance and went to shift the bags into the back of the Jeep.
“Morning, Dec,” Sarah called out. “Archie. Have you had breakfast yet?”
“We will after we get you lot on the road,” Declan said as he gave Ryan a push toward the vehicle. The priest looked like he’d run into a door on the way in or out of the compound jail. His left eye was black and puffed up and his lip was split. He looked beseechingly at Sarah but wisely did not speak.
Archie and Mike positioned Margaret in the back seat.
“Tommy says there’s a small camp out front so be mindful when you leave,” Archie said.
Mike frowned. “A camp? Who? Not the fecking druids again?”
Declan came to the other side of the Jeep and opened the door for Ryan who clumsily climbed in.
“Nay,” Declan said. “It’s a couple of families from Ballinagh asking for asylum.”
“How many is a couple?”
“Forty.”
“Jaysus, man! That’s about what we have already. Do ye think that’s wise?”
“I do,” Declan said, “with strong leadership. Which we have.”
Mike snorted but then caught Sarah’s eye.
“Aye,” he said, rubbing his hand through his hair. “That’s true. And you can likely use the extra hands rebuilding the mill.”
“We’ll be fine, Mike,” Declan said. “The place will still be standing when you return. You have me word.”
Mike nodded. “I know it will,” he said. “I couldn’t leave it in better hands. Just remember, Dec, Ameriland is the only bastion of normalcy in all of Ireland. Be careful what slithers in while you’re holding the door open.”
“It’s been that for over a year now,” Declan said, shrugging.
“Aye, but there’s one difference,” Mike said looking over the tops of the cottages clustered at the center of the compound. Front doors were opening and fires were being restoked in cookstoves.
“The sickness that’s coming,” Mike said. “I don’t know if it’ll make it this far but you need to be ready for it—and for what people might do to get away from it.”
“We will,” Declan said, shaking Mike’s hand. “I promise, we will.”
Mike saw Archie standing silently by the jeep and he held out his hand to him.
“Thank you for watching over Sarah and the rest of ‘em while we were gone,” Mike said. “Will you stay on?”
“I’m here for as long as I’m needed,” Archie said, lowering his eyes to the ground.
Mike looked at Declan and raised an eyebrow.
“Of course, you’re needed,” Declan said. “Fiona’s practically decided I can’t run the place without you.”
Mike grinned and slapped Archie on the shoulder. “Take care, auld ma
n,” he said.
Archie turned to Sarah and held out his arms. She hugged him tightly.
“Are you going to be okay?” she asked.
“I’ve plenty of work to keep me busy. You just come back safe with our lads.”
“Thank you, Archie, for everything you’ve done.”
“Whist. We’re family. Naught to be thanking me.”
“We’ll take care of him,” Fiona said walking up behind him. “Don’t you worry.”
Archie eyes glittered with emotion before he hurried off toward the interior of the compound.
“Thanks, Fi,” Sarah said as she watched him go. “We’re all he has now. Hey, where’s the baby?
“Home asleep. Abby spent the night with us. She’s asked if she can mind the bairn and I thought we’d try her out. Ciara seems to like her. Where will you go after you drop off the prisoners?”
“Well, Mike thinks John’s tracking Gavin so the question is where would Gavin go?”
“In the opposite direction of those mad feckers who were trying to put him on a roasting spit, I reckon.”
“But after giving them a wide berth why not just come home?”
Fiona grimaced.
“Exactly,” Sarah said. “Something or someone prevented him.”
“You’ll find the answer,” Fiona said.
“We will. By the way, what do you think of the new compound name?”
“Ameriland? I like it. Some of the women were talking about maybe calling it New Hope but I thought it sounded like we were starting our own church or something.”
“God forbid.”
“Exactly.”
Mike called to her. “Ready, Sarah?”
Fiona hugged Sarah. “Godspeed, Sarah. I know you’ll find them. Mind yourself, though, and come home safe.”
“I will, Fi. Kiss the baby for me.” She turned and ran to the Jeep. Both Margaret and Ryan were seated in the back, their hands tied and Margaret gagged.
Sarah looked at the older woman whose eyes bulged angrily over the rag.
Mike frowned. “Too much?”
“No. Great idea.” Sarah climbed into the passenger’s seat. “How long will it take us to reach Dublin?”
Irish End Games, Books 4-5-6 Page 24