Item Source: Jillian Blairington
Nadia finally reminded us to call home. Danielle and I couldn’t believe we’d forgotten our folks. I can’t speak for her, but my guilt was crushing and complete. A phone call couldn’t cover enough of what I needed to say and show Momma. I thought about my Old Daddy and New Daddy, too, but I knew Momma needed me more.
Hurrying to an empty bedroom, I took off my shoes and curled up on the bed. I probably shoulda showered or at least washed my face, but everything became less important than my current task. Slipping into sleep only took a second. Finding Momma wasn’t hard, but getting inside her dreams took some effort ’cause her worry put a pretty solid lock on ’em.
Not wanting to waste time, I contacted Malia to help me calm Momma enough to let me work. As soon as she succeeded, I let Malia return to her own dreams with my thanks.
Knowing Momma’s natural dreams would be upsetting, I pulled her to a medium level sleep and set up a comfortable room like the cabin where I met Maisha and my infant self. Momma showed up sitting on the center cushion of the country couch. I wondered why subconscious forms always pick the center cushion, but then I figured that was probably my doing.
Momma’s attention fixed on me instantly. Her rigid posture woulda passed muster in any military camp. Her expression reminded me of a wounded animal ready to go down fighting.
I rushed to explain.
“You’re dreaming, Momma, but I’m here.” Holding my hands wide and staring down at ’em, I continued, “This is my Gift. This is what I couldn’t show ya for forever ’cause I didn’t know how.” I met Momma’s eyes. “I got lots to say, but that can wait for when I see ya for real. Danielle and I are both safe, but I don’t know when we can come home. We’re working on it.” I conjured a stress ball to squeeze so I wouldn’t keep rambling.
The fierce look faded. Momma stared at me for a long time then slowly scanned the room before focusing on me again. Rising from the couch, she approached with careful steps and reached to cup my right cheek.
I imagined my avatar was solid enough to feel so her hand wouldn’t go through the form.
Without a word, Momma drew me into a firm hug. When she finally leaned back to see me, she said, “I knew you would return someday.” She smiled briefly before letting a concerned frown take over. “But I too have a story.” Her voice cracked as she swept me into another desperate hug. “You can’t come home.”
Her words hit me like machine gun fire. I stiffened and dropped the stress ball.
“There are men watching the house,” Momma explained. She pulled back and gripped my arms hard. “I will not have you come home and be taken away again. If you’re safe, you stay there.” Momma’s eyes flashed with scary inner fire.
“Is Michio—”
“He’s fine,” Momma assured me. “They haven’t done much more than watch for four days, but I know they’re waiting for you, baby.”
My avatar cried all the tears I wanted to and then some. Momma caught me, hauled me to the couch, and cradled me like she did when I was real small. When I’d worn myself down, I asked, “What am I gonna do, Momma?”
“You’re gonna stay here in my arms as long as ya can,” Momma replied. Her lips brushed my forehead. “Then you’re gonna kiss me, promise to keep in touch, and stay far away until it’s safe for you to come home for good.”
“I don’t know if I can do this,” I whispered. The blank statement meant lots of things, but mostly, it spoke of my heart breaking under the strain.
Momma laid her head on mine.
“You can and you will. You are my fearless Jillian. You have never failed to fight for what is right. You help Varick handle whatever needs sorting, and you come back to me, ya hear?”
I had a hard time breaking away from that dream, but the steady thumping of helicopter blades beating the air eventually woke me. I hurried to the restroom to rinse my face and pull myself together. Momma’s news about men watching the house made me sick with worry.
I arrived outside as Cora, Dr. Carnasis, and Tyra entered a huge blue helicopter with gold lettering that read Turner Imports. Sad I’d missed saying goodbye, I waved as the helicopter rose. The wind caused by the rotor blades threw up waves of sand, forcing me to shield my face.
The silence left behind when the helicopter moved far enough away was pretty heavy. Even the waves seemed quieter. Dr. Devya, Nadia, Danielle, and Varick turned to me and immediately picked up on my mood.
Dustin came out of the house and asked the key question.
“What’s wrong with Ashlynn?”
Momma’s news sparked another disagreement.
Dr. Devya was the first to speak like he had an answer.
“The solution is simple, Ashlynn. Come with me. You’ll be free to work with Nadia in whatever capacity she deems best.”
“Stay with my family,” Danielle offered. “You know they already love you.”
I shook my head.
“I don’t wanna cause ’em problems.”
“Varick will be moving often,” Nadia pointed out. “Perhaps you can join him.”
It was Varick’s turn to protest.
“I’ll need to move freely and take whatever missions Dr. Robinson presents.”
“Jillian can aid you best if she is near,” Nadia said, revealing her motive in making the suggestion.
“It’s too dangerous.” Varick threw an apologetic glance my way.
“Come to college with me or hide in a safe house.” Danielle’s eyes begged me to consider every option but the first.
“You know I’m right, Ashlynn.” Dr. Devya spoke with quiet confidence I wanted to defy.
Varick studied the ground. Nadia watched me carefully, and Danielle looked at me like I was dying. I felt Dustin’s attention from behind me. The sun’s first rays broke the distant horizon as I nodded my decision.
I thought Danielle would launch one last argument, but Nadia spoke the instant after I decided to go with Dr. Devya.
“Father, please extend a formal invitation to Jillian to join us on our travels. Assure her and everyone here that she is free to depart when she wishes.”
Dr. Devya reluctantly did as asked.
“Ashlynn, I would like you to join us as a guest when we return to the lab. When matters settle, you’re free to go where you wish.”
“I accept,” I answered, needing to be formal. “Thank you.”
Relief settled over Varick and Nadia, but Danielle’s shoulders tensed. I remembered I still had Cora’s phone, but it didn’t seem worth mentioning right then.
We kept conversation light and meaningless throughout breakfast and other morning activities, but then, Danielle took me aside.
“Varick’s going to take me home soon, so I guess this is goodbye.” Her eyes asked if I was sure of my decision.
I shook my head in answer to her unspoken question and hugged her fiercely.
“I ain’t going away forever,” I promised, hoping I wasn’t lying. It certainly felt like a lie.
“I’ll hold you to that, kid,” Danielle said, still holding me. She’s a good hugging height. When she finally pulled away, a Nadia-like sad smile spoke a lot of what she didn’t have time to say.
Seeing that green minivan off was harder than watching the helicopter go. We didn’t stick around the gray house too much longer, but we had to handle some details like closing windows, locking doors, and turning off lights.
A security guy I didn’t know met us with a black SUV. He loaded Ethan into the way back seat and helped Dustin, Nadia, and me onto the middle bench. Dr. Devya took the front passenger seat. Nadia hooked her arm through mine and rested her head on my shoulder.
Do not despair, Jillian. Varick will watch over your family.
My spirit drank in Nadia’s reassurance, testing the words and finding them right and good.
Chapter 41:
We Will One Day Save Father
ITEM 225: Nadia’s Second Letter to Jillian
&nbs
p; Item Source: Jillian Blairington
To My Dear Sister, Jillian:
You are here beside me, yet I feel there is a great chasm between us. I promised to explain myself, so you shall have my inadequate efforts. Should you need to hear them again, they will replay at the phrase repeat Nadia’s plea for understanding.
I am sorry your way home is barred for now. That was not my doing, but I still feel a deep general sorrow for the strain placed upon your family. Varick and I will seek answers on your behalf, and I will speak with your mother and step-father as often as I can. Mr. Antel already knows as much as we do, for he has continued to accept contract work from Father. I am not sure if that was ever made clear to you. Please forgive the lapse in a timely explanation. He wanted to take part in safeguarding you from afar, but I believe Father may have him transferred to England soon.
Despite his many flaws and the abrasive manner in which he handles people, Father still loves Cora and Dr. Carnasis very deeply. We three—Cora, Dr. Carnasis, and I—hold to hope that we will one day save Father. He has long been his own worst enemy. Somewhere beneath the callous exterior there is a man who as a broken-hearted little boy once promised the world he would wage war on genetic diseases. He grew up and became a different man, but the boy’s passion remains. We must move him past the talk of soldiers and thoughts of vengeance.
We need your help. I am not certain you understand what you mean to Father. The boy we glimpsed together spent many a night terrified by visions formed from his fears of things he could not comprehend. That is why he sought you, a Dream Shaper, someone capable of exchanging night terrors and peace. You also bear a striking resemblance to a projection of what his sister may have looked like had she lived. He knows you are not Faith, but you are still special to him.
Varick tells me I am many times a fool for believing Father can change, but even Malia senses subtle shifts. Mere months ago, Father might have summoned security men and forced Cora and Dr. Carnasis to return.
You wonder why I stay with Father, especially now when both the binding fetter of Malia’s illness and my own have been revealed as lies. I told you love is a tricky thing. My bargain with Father to purchase freedom for you and the others is only part of the reason. Deeper ties of love and loyalty to Father must also be acknowledged. He has come to expect betrayal and broken promises. I cannot bring myself to become another reason he mistrusts the world.
I do not know how long your stay with us will last, but if you fail to find a suitable tutor among Father’s people, I would be delighted to fulfill the role. You must continue learning. The task will provide a focus when your mind is not otherwise engaged in work with me or on your own. I may not possess the comforting presence of Malia or Danielle, but I can see how you hurt and fervently wish to be of use.
You have always been the courageous one among us, but even the strongest need support. I am your elder sister, and I claim my right to fret over you. I also need your support, and that is something you excel at giving. Many people assume my Gifts make good cheer a foregone conclusion, but here, I will privately confess my struggle with maintaining a tenuous grasp upon hope.
Thank you for the letters and contact that broke through the darkness thrust upon my mind. Your simple wisdom saved me. I trust that no matter what comes, we will draw strength from each other.
Forever your loving sister,
Nadia Elena Ayers
***
ITEM 226: Jillian’s 113th post-kidnapping journal entry
Item Source: Jillian Blairington
I guess Varick’s gotta put his quest to free Nadia on hold again. Her explanation of her feelings makes some sense, but logical don’t make it right. She thinks we can talk Dr. Devya into helpful scientific studies if we show him enough love.
I take it back, she ain’t even being logical. Nana might agree with Nadia in sentiment, but she’d be the first to tell ya people don’t tick like that.
Dr. Devya didn’t become who he is overnight. He made choice after choice to go his own way when moral laws tried to pen him in. Not sure how I feel about being a result of his tinkering with what’s possible. I’ve come to enjoy the good my Gifts can bring about if I’m careful. At least I can bring Momma some comfort even if I can’t go to her.
That part is far from fair, but now that the pain has faded enough to let me think, I’m also glad for the distance. This week has opened my eyes to a much wider conflict. Varick and Dr. Robinson always took a more active role than the rest of us, but that phase is closing fast. As a family, we are coming under attack. I want Momma, Isaac, Michio, and my New Daddy kept well away from this fight.
I’ve got no particular reason to think I might not survive the next few weeks, but if there are more people like Dr. Lanier squabbling over us, things could get mighty messy. Our collective mommas and Dr. Devya will do what they can to preserve our lives. Dr. S. is always trying to make me find the good in things. Perhaps the coming clash will force a change for the better in Dr. Devya.
Chapter 42:
The Pretty Ghost Girl
ITEM 227: Danielle’s sixty-sixth letter
Item Source: Danielle Matheson
Dear Dr. S.,
The ride home from Rodanthe, North Carolina took about eight hours even with only two stops and Varick’s lead foot on the gas pedal. The first stop was for new clothes and the second for food. I have got to find better reasons than kidnapping fallout for going clothes shopping. Although long sections of the trip passed in silence, Varick and I fumbled our way through a few serious conversations too. We expressed mutual concern over the dangers past and future. Okay, so we argued in circles.
Varick would much prefer I not return to college right away. He cited the lax security as one reason, but I told him there are very few crazies brazen enough to kidnap people from dorm rooms. I further argued that criminals hate copying others, so I’d probably be safe from a repeat performance. He accused me of not taking the situation seriously, so I flipped the discussion focus over to him.
I would much prefer Varick not charge off into whatever missions he’s set for himself or accepted from Dr. Robinson. I cited high risk of not returning alive as one reason, and he finally conceded that we both had cause to worry.
When we laid that section to rest, we moved into the far more awkward area of declarations and definitions. Being genetically designed with a straightforward setting, Varick once again confessed that he loved me but would try to understand if I didn’t reciprocate. I told him I thought he stole that word from Nadia, and he admitted it. Once again, I had to set the man straight on how love did not work. It’s not something to be turned on and off at will. It grows up between souls and binds them together so thoroughly that separation becomes synonymous with destruction. He realized I’d totally swiped that from a conversation with Nadia. Recognizing the logic’s origin led to shared laughter and finally moved us on to common ground.
If my protective instincts get thrown into overdrive sometimes, what must it be like for Varick? He inherited the role of eldest child when his brother Brenton died. He’s been groomed as a protector practically since the cradle. Trying to prevent Nadia from making stupid, self-sacrificing deals is like catching wind in a cup, useless.
When we arrived at my house, Varick escorted me to the door, but didn’t stay because he wanted to check on Jillian’s family. We’d agreed to push off formal announcements for later to give my parents time to absorb my return first. I was so busy watching Varick walk to the minivan that I didn’t notice anyone answer the bell until Dylan slammed into my back.
The breath popped from my lungs in a great whoosh and took its time returning because Katy, Mom, and Dad piled on. We teetered on the front steps as a very tight family unit. I’m not sure who started crying first, but it was contagious. Their greetings and cries of relief entered my ears as one wonderful white noise. Even Shorty woofed a welcome as she circled our collective legs.
The first question I could distin
guish was from Mom. She’d worked her way around front and looped her arms around my neck.
“Are you hungry, honey?”
I laughed that her first instinct was to feed me, but I answered truthfully.
“I could eat.”
“That’s Deli-speak for ‘I’m starving,’” Dad commented, breaking off from our huddle. “Come on in and claim part of the chicken.”
“What happened to your wrists?” Dylan asked. During the family wrestling event, he had pasted himself to my right side. The position gave him a clear view of my left wrist.
Mom stepped out of my hold, pulled both hands around for a look, and gasped. Her eyes locked on mine, and she looked ready to resume crying.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said quickly.
“Let’s go in and eat,” Mom declared. Her cheerful tone contrasted with the message streaming from her eyes. They said, Like heck it doesn’t matter. You have a lot of explaining to do.
“I missed you,” Katy announced, “but I knew you’d be okay. The pretty ghost girl said so.”
Mom and Dad exchanged a concerned look that told me this wasn’t the first mention of a ghost girl.
“What girl?” I asked even though I know of only one girl who does spot-on ghost impressions.
“Katy’s got an imaginary friend,” Dylan teased.
“I do not!” yelled Katy, stamping her right foot to drive home the point.
“Let’s talk about this after dinner,” I suggested, trying my peacekeeper hat on for size.
The feast that followed would have made Thanksgiving jealous. A whole chicken had been roasted to perfection. Fresh rolls, green bean casserole, and a litany of other sides sailed back and forth between snippets of idle conversation.
After dinner, I gave an abbreviated, sterilized account of recent events with my siblings present then packed them off to bed. Dylan’s too old for an official tuck in, but he insisted I say goodnight properly. Katy demanded the deluxe tuck in, but I didn’t mind as I wanted to speak with her anyway.
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