“You didn’t tell her,” I concluded, reading the answer in her expression.
“Not a word until she was asleep,” Nadia admitted. “That was an argument I could ill-afford to enter. I have discovered that I can communicate with certain sleepers if I can tap into your Gift and maintain enough concentration.”
I nodded absently ’cause the statement didn’t really require a response. Other questions zipped around my head, so I plucked two at random and presented ’em to Nadia.
“What made Dr. Carnasis a good standin for Danielle? Why not hide Danielle and have no replacement?”
“Dr. Carnasis already had the correct nanomachines for the task,” Nadia explained. “They were programmed to imitate me, but reworking that code to project Danielle was relatively simple. I still had to use part of an illusion but it took far less effort than it would have otherwise.”
“That must be why the disguise failed when ya dropped the illusions,” I said.
“As you say,” Nadia confirmed. “The need for a standin is a matter of logic. Who would Ethan have sought had he not found Danielle?”
I stared at her until the slant of her eyebrows told me the answer.
“Me.”
“I can talk to sleepers, and you can read minds,” said Nadia.
“Guess I make a pretty good target sitting here, don’t I?”
“You should probably awaken as soon as we finish here.” Nadia’s avatar looked concerned. “Have you driven off enough of the sedative to awaken yourself?”
Shrugging, I said, “I haven’t tried waking up yet.”
“I can finish here if you wish to attempt to rise.”
I shook my head.
“I wanna see this through.”
We put our full attention into the healing again, but there wasn’t much we could do.
I checked on the scene outside my Second Momma. Nobody had moved much, but Varick sat quietly cleaning my Second Momma with bottled water. The knife handle stuck out of the sand where Varick had plunged it. Danielle had moved over to sit with Nadia. She had my sister’s head cradled on her crossed legs.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Danielle asked Nadia’s sleeping form. Her attention flicked over to Dr. Carnasis. “You knew I would have refused. Then that would be me laid out over there.” She fell silent for several seconds, before adding, “Thank you.” She placed a hand on Nadia’s forehead and let it rest there. “I’d better go thank her too.” Danielle rolled Nadia onto her side and arranged my sister’s arms so that they formed a pillow.
My focus shifted to the internal work again in time to watch the last breech be sealed. Forming a body, I shouted, “We’re done!”
One of the Nadia avatars appeared next to me looking grave.
“We are almost done. You may need to draw upon Malia’s Gift, but let us talk to Dr. Carnasis first.”
Not quite following Nadia’s meaning, I formed an avatar for my Second Momma and moved us to an empty room with a couch so we could have a private conversation. Since I’d let the image form as it thought best, the representation of Dr. Carnasis was pale and pained. When I willed away some of the pain, she opened her eyes and spoke.
“Tired. So tired. Will it end soon?”
“You’re healed, Momma. Let me wake you.”
“Your wounds will heal in time, but the will to live must come from you,” said Nadia.
“Tired. Lost. Broken,” murmured my Second Momma.
Nadia and I exchanged sad glances.
“Malia could help with those feelings if ya let her,” I offered.
“We’ve done so much wrong,” my Second Momma said. Silent tears started the long journey down her face.
“You have done so much right,” Nadia countered.
At her nod, I conjured avatars for Malia and Michio and images of Dustin, Varick, Aiden, Benny Connelly, and Danielle. Michio climbed into my Second Momma’s lap and cuddled close.
Malia knelt in front of Dr. Carnasis and picked up her right hand.
“May I help?”
My Second Momma couldn’t speak, but she nodded, cried harder, hugged Michio, and clung to Malia’s hands. I figured that healing would take a lot longer than these few moments, but it was a start.
Chapter 37:
Not Cut Out to be a Captor
ITEM 221: Danielle’s sixty-fourth letter
Item Source: Danielle Matheson
Dear Dr. S.,
I watched and felt myself get stabbed today. The knife actually attacked Dr. C., but at the moment of impact, those miniature machines changed her features to match mine. The change lasted less than a second as did the pain. I woke up screaming, snapping the dream connection Nadia had created through Jillian to allow me to witness and participate in the unfolding situation. That was yet another very strange conversation. Dr. C. spoke lines I thought to her through Nadia.
Guilt, fear, and the need to do something blasted me out of the sand. I stumbled to Dr. C.’s side as Varick lifted her off of Ethan. She’s not a very big woman, and the careful way Varick cradled her so the knife wouldn’t move made her seem childlike.
“Set her here,” Nadia instructed. She held down the corners of a large, rough maroon blanket.
Varick told me to tie Ethan up. I wanted to refuse, but I couldn’t argue with him while he was carrying Dr. C.’s limp form over to the blanket. My legs took me over to the wheelchair holding Jillian, but then my hands clenched shut and flatly refused to dig out the zip ties. I stared into that pouch and regarded the plastic pieces like they were baby vipers.
Devya reached past me and snatched up the ties as if I wasn’t even there. He calmly and efficiently bound Ethan’s hands and feet then dragged the young man toward the house. After leaving Ethan by the others, Devya trudged up the deck stairs and disappeared.
Jillian moaned and moved her hands, giving me hope that she might awaken soon. I took a knee next to the wheelchair and grabbed one of her hot, clammy hands. A thought concerning Dr. C. forced me to rise and check on her. Jillian’s hand rose with me. I didn’t want to leave her like this.
Please comfort Dr. Carnasis. Jillian and I will try to heal her physical injuries, but she also bears wounds that only kindness and understanding can heal. Stay with her.
Nadia’s soft request lifted the heavy weight of indecision. I propped Jillian into what I hoped would be a more comfortable position and adjusted her hands so that they folded across her stomach. Then, I rushed to sit by the woman who’d worn my face while taking a knife to the gut. Guilt and relief tussled within me, leaving me too emotionally strung out to even cry.
Passage of time meant nothing as I held Evelyn’s sticky right hand. The blood didn’t bother me. I didn’t realize it was there until Varick rinsed our hands with bottled water. As he set about cleaning the rest of Evelyn, I moved to Nadia’s slumbering body and had a short, one-way conversation with her. I asked her why she hadn’t told me her plan before enacting it, though I knew the answer. I think I thanked her. I hope I thanked her. I can’t remember.
You’ve probably noticed the change in how I think of Evelyn. It’s impossible to remain formal with someone who accepts danger and pain meant for you. This is similar to the change in my feelings for Cora but more extreme. The knife tore away Dr. C. and left only Evelyn. Part of me has always admired these women: Cora, Evelyn, Dr. Paladon, and even Dr. Robinson. In a way, they’re explorers of scientific frontiers. They still scare the heck out of me, but sitting beside Evelyn like this has shown me the fragile, human side of these women.
Dr. Robinson broke away from Devya years ago, followed eventually by Dr. Paladon. I am no fortune teller, but I would not be surprised if the recent events result in Cora and Evelyn splitting from Devya’s operation.
Much as I hate to admit it, even Devya seems changed for the better. A cloud of arrogance still engulfs him, but at times, when he looks at Evelyn, the cloud cracks, revealing the man.
While we’re on the topic of changes and
revelations, I’m not cut out to be a captor. I’ve worn too many cuffs to be comfortable placing them on others. My reaction to the zip ties I was supposed to put on Ethan stands as proof. Bound people have a miserable look that says you’ve tied more than their hands.
Don’t worry. I didn’t do something idiotic like release Lanier and crew. Varick took them away early this evening, but enough hours had passed to make things like bathroom breaks and food necessary. These are the tasks that showed me how ill-equipped I am to play the part of captor.
Everybody else was busy, so Devya and I inherited prisoner duty. Since most of the prisoners were men, Devya handled the majority of bathroom runs, but responsibility for Tyra fell to me. I released her ankles and helped her up before walking her to the deck. As we moved through the doorway, Tyra slammed her body into mine, pinning me to the door.
“I could kill you at any time,” she hissed.
Oddly, the blow knocked some spirit back into me. Shoving Tyra away, I said, “Wonderful to see you too. I could use a good fight right about now.”
I won the resulting staring contest, and the rest of the bathroom run went smoothly. When I returned Tyra to the line of prisoners, I found Cora nestling a tray with water bottles and energy bars into the sand.
“Would you mind handling this?” asked Cora. “I need to check on Dustin.”
Shrugging, I picked up an energy bar and started unwrapping it. A brief scan of the sullen prisoners revealed not one friendly face. I don’t need positive attention to survive, but that was the first time I’ve received so many hostile glares at once. I fed Mr. Clark first because he appeared more tired than angry. He actually murmured thanks when he finished draining the water bottle I held steady for him.
Lanier looked like he’d prefer munching on dung beetles rather than what I offered, but he finished his energy bar. I found it strangely fitting that these were the same brand of bars served to us this morning. Ethan and Tyra breathed threats and curses, but I ignored them easily enough. Otherwise, the prisoners said very little, which suited me fine. Although the task required almost nothing in terms of physical energy, I needed a long sit-down alone on the sand watching wave after wave slide into shore to recover emotionally.
The work with Evelyn was stretching into the second or third hour. Varick had gone off to make some phone calls, and Devya stood sentry over the prisoners. Cora floated in an out of the gray house to alternately watch over Dustin and Evelyn. Nadia and Jillian slumbered on, leaving me much time to think but no energy for the task. So, I listened to the ocean’s steady beat.
Eventually, I noticed Varick sitting beside me. The sight of him filled me with so many conflicting emotions and things to say that my lips refused to utter any of it.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” Varick whispered. “I will deliver them to Dr. Robinson soon, but Nadia thought you might need these.” He brought a large box of tissues out from where they’d been hiding on the other side of him and set it on the sand between us.
I glanced at the box then at Varick, caught between urges to laugh and cry. After a long, uncomfortable silence, I forced my throat to make a noise that was going for chuckle and came out part cackle.
“I can see her insights quickly becoming awkward,” I said hoarsely.
“You can’t imagine how well she does awkward,” Varick confirmed with a mock-pained expression. The look shifted to real pain and sadness. “Nadia knows what’s best for everybody, except herself.”
Knocking the box of tissues aside, I scooted closer to Varick, lined up our forearms, and entwined our fingers, careful to avoid the long slash left behind by Ethan’s knife.
“Will Nadia stay with him?”
“Oh, yes,” Varick said. The bitterness almost overcame the weariness in his words. “Father has a firm grip on her sense of loyalty.” Varick freed his left hand and looped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “She believes she has a duty to save him from himself.”
“Duty takes people strange places,” I murmured. As I reviewed the words, something about Varick’s tender but tentative hold on me said this might be a longer goodbye than I’d anticipated. The realization crushed whatever had previously kept me from crying. Curling into him, I wept. The giant box of tissues earned its keep. When I’d spent more than a fair amount of tears, I lifted my head off Varick’s soaked shirt, sniffled, wiped my face, and asked, “When are you leaving?”
Varick’s eyes shifted to sea green and pleaded for understanding.
“As soon as everything is settled here.”
His answer infused me with enough angry energy to make me spring to my feet.
Before I could make a clean exit, Varick caught my right hand.
“Please, Danielle. Let’s not leave it like this.”
“How should we leave it?” I felt bad for the harsh question, but I couldn’t retract it, so I left it hanging in the air. “What’s to leave?” I demanded. Frustration tried to squeeze more tears out of me, but the anger was draining fast. “What are—”
“I love you.” The statement came out simple and direct. Varick smiled a little and continued, “I have since Marina called you a stupid cow in Russian.” He tightened his hold on my hand. “And maybe even before that, when I saw how you love Jillian.” His eyes flipped back to a cool shade of blue. “I wanted a love like that for myself, but I realized I’m being unfair.”
“Unfair how?” I mumbled, still trying to absorb and analyze the first declaration.
Releasing my hand, Varick stood up.
“Go back to college, Danielle. Forget us. Meet somebody safer.”
The resignation in his tone doused the rest of my anger and changed the essence of my frustration. Closing the distance between us, I wrapped him in a hug, wet shirt and all.
“I don’t want somebody safer.”
Stunned, he bore my embrace rigidly for several seconds, but gradually, as the stiffness melted, he held me tighter.
“You’ll face danger every moment you’re with us.” The soft words held genuine fear. “I can’t always protect you.”
I pulled back a half-step.
“Then don’t try.” As he started to argue, I continued, grateful to finally be on a topic I’d actually given some thought. “Uncertainty in life is not a reason to stop living.” In response to his resulting frown, I added, “Yes, I’ve been talking to Nadia, too. She’s been rather chatty since waking up.”
Varick chuckled.
“I’ve noticed.” Drawing my hands around front, Varick studied the wrist wounds then held the hands together and lightly kissed my knuckles. “Would you fancy a walk with me?”
“Is this our first official date?”
“Would you like it to be?”
“What about your delivery duties?”
“They’ll keep,” Varick answered, casting a quick glance up to the line of prisoners. “The advantage of a meddlesome mindreading sister is that she can reschedule meetings rather handily.”
We kept the walk short because I couldn’t really enjoy it while those people remained bound, but we had some good discussion. I’m not sure we solved anything, but we both got to air some concerns.
I wish I could say I talked Varick out of his plans to take a more active role in helping Dr. Robinson protect Devya’s Children. I wish I could say I answered all of his concerns. Lanier’s not the only rich crazy who wants to claim some of them. He’s just the latest, most successful one.
We didn’t get around to defining what “we” are, but I believe it’s a mystery we’re both eager to explore.
The Retired Captor,
Danielle Matheson.
Chapter 38:
Let Them Part in Peace
ITEM 222: Jillian’s 111th post-kidnapping journal entry
Item Source: Jillian Blairington
The drug lifted from me one sense at a time. First, I smelled the cool ocean air and tasted the gritty bits of sand that had blown onto my lips. Next, I felt the s
tiff breeze move my hair and shirt. I shivered as the breeze dried the sweat that had freed me from the sedative. Third, I heard the murmur of voices muffled by the crashing white noise of waves landing on the beach. Finally, I forced my eyes open and saw Nadia and my Second Momma sleeping on the ground. In my haste to get to ’em, I tumbled from the wheelchair, so I crawled to Nadia.
As I reached to shake Nadia awake, my Second Momma stirred. Getting to Dr. Carnasis took some doing ’cause I had to crawl around Nadia and then slow my approach so as not to toss sand onto the blanket. I finished my journey about the time my Second Momma opened her eyes. Smiling a greeting, I rested my hand on her right forearm. We stayed like that until she saw me shivering. She said something that got stolen by the wind, so I leaned over her and put my ear near her mouth.
“Lay down beside me. You need to keep warm. And you should drink some water. The sedative probably dehydrated you.” My Second Momma’s words weren’t loud, and she labored to get ’em out.
Thirst hit me hard when she mentioned water, but I figured resting and warming up were also important. Moving her right arm aside, I nestled into the space next to my Second Momma.
“Roll the blanket over you.”
I followed Dr. Carnasis’s instruction, and we stayed like that for quite a while, simply sharing warmth. She moved her arm up behind my back to hold me in a half-hug. If I hadn’t spent most of the day asleep, I woulda napped. I knew my Second Momma probably didn’t want to speak, but a question kept buzzing around my head.
“How do ya feel?” I pushed myself up enough so I could see her face.
Fixing her eyes on me, she attempted a smile.
“Sore, but better.” She winced as a deep breath stretched something in her side. “Grateful to be alive, thanks to you … and Nadia, all of you. She—” Her breath hitched, and she looked like a wall of pain had collapsed on top of her. A tear fell as she blinked back the feeling.
“Don’t speak if it hurts,” I said, sitting up fully. “Let me help ya sleep again.” I knocked the rest of the blanket off and changed position so I sat facing her.
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