by Kirsten Boie
At that moment they saw the beam of a flashlight ranging over the window. At least one of the guards was on duty. Since nightfall, the man had been patrolling around the hut, sometimes close to it, sometimes farther away. The blackbirds fell silent.
Perry sat back down again. “Then again, maybe not,” he murmured. “They probably wouldn’t be that stupid.”
Now Jenna understood. “You mean the blackbirds,” she whispered.
“No blackbirds in the world sing at this hour,” Perry answered softly.
For a while, all was silent. Then both of them sat bolt upright.
The blackbird sounded close enough for them to reach out and grab it.
“The guard on patrol!” Perry hissed anxiously. “He’s bound to realize —”
Then everything happened very quickly.
They heard a shout, footsteps, someone falling to the ground, more footsteps. There must have been a lot of men. Crashing sounds, but no gunshots. Then the door was kicked open.
“Everything all right?” said a gruff but cheerful voice. Flashlights suddenly threw a ghostly brightness over the shore and the forest, and in their glow Jenna saw a face that she knew was somehow familiar.
The old man turned around. “Have you taken everything off them?” he shouted. “Especially their phones? Check that none of them have managed to send out any messages!”
Seven other men — the youngest not much older than Jenna and Perry, and the oldest so stooped he was almost doubled over — were outside the hut, tying the hands and feet of the guards and gagging them. There were four cell phones lying in the sand nearby.
“So far, so good, Kalijoki,” said the youngest rebel. “They were snoring like pigs. I never thought my first mission would be so easy.”
Perry leaned against the doorframe. “Blackbirds sleep at night,” he said. His voice was trembling.
“Fortunately so did the guards!” said the old man, laughing. “But you’re right, we should have thought of something a bit more subtle. If the fellow who spent the whole night wandering around the hut with his lamp knew the first thing about nature …” He shrugged his shoulders. “They watch too many movies, these kids,” he said. “Don’t know enough about the world they live in.” He beckoned to the boy to bring the cell phones, and they disappeared into the deep pockets of his shepherd’s cloak.
“All right, let’s go,” he said. “We might get some sleep tonight yet, eh?”
The rescuers pushed the guards through the narrow doorway past Jenna and Perry. Jenna didn’t want to look at them.
“Once they’re in, take off their gags,” ordered the old man. “We don’t want them suffocating. And no one’ll hear them, no matter how loud they shout. Let’s hope that one of their group will come along in the morning and find them. Otherwise, they’ll get mighty bored sitting here all day.” He laughed. “Are you two good to walk? We have to go a little way on foot.”
Jenna nodded. Kalijoki, she thought, recognizing him at last. The old man whose sheep had blocked the road.
“Thank you!” she whispered. “Thank you for rescuing us!”
“Piece of cake,” said the old man.
Jonas had found it tough going, lugging his heavy suitcase. The uneven slabs of pavement had made its little wheels rattle, and the whole time he had been afraid that the handle would snap under the weight.
But he knew he couldn’t wait for the car in town, or in daylight, so he dragged his bags to the agreed-upon meeting point, just three hundred feet from the sign marking the entrance to the town. He sat down there on an old stand for milk churns that was weathered by many years of wind and rain.
When he saw the bobbing lights approaching over the stones and potholes of the forest track, he jumped down. The pickup truck came to a halt.
“Hey, Lorok,” said Jonas.
“Hi, kid,” said Nahira’s most loyal follower. “You really want to take that thing with you?” He nodded toward the suitcase. “Think you’re going on a cruise?” He laughed.
They didn’t speak during the journey. And Lorok still drove like a maniac.
“This is it,” said Lorok. “Out you get.”
The shack looked derelict. Only the satellite dish on a tree stump showed that anyone was living there. Jonas slid down from the seat. “Thanks,” he said.
In the doorway of the shack, with only the flickering light of the television behind her, stood Nahira. “Jonas!” she said.
Before he had even reached the shack, Jonas had to ask. “Did you really kidnap them? Do you really want to swap them for Liron?”
Then he came close to her. For a moment she seemed to want to ruffle his dark hair, but she let her hand fall. “Come on in,” she said. “Of course we didn’t. What do you think we are? But that’s going to change in the next few hours.”
Jonas looked around the room. There were three mattresses on the floor, and the sound was turned down on the television. Obviously Nahira and her people hadn’t been using this hideout for long, and they clearly had no intention of staying much longer.
“It was very risky, Liron giving you my number,” she said. “Your father has taken too many risks altogether. He kept saying that the same people who tried to seize power last year would do it again, and yet he went on acting as if he didn’t believe it himself.”
“He didn’t exactly give me your number,” said Jonas apologetically. “He concealed it in a riddle. But why did you meet yesterday? He must have realized how dangerous that would be!”
Nahira looked at the screen. The midnight news. “It’s the day before yesterday now,” she corrected him gently. She left the sound off the TV.
Then she turned to him. “This time it was my fault,” she said. “I’d found something out — or rather Lorok did — that seemed to provide proof of what we suspected. I wanted to show him. So I was just as careless as he was.”
“But he … There’s still the death penalty for high treason,” said Jonas.
Nahira looked away again. “We don’t know how we can rescue him,” she said wearily. “Liron’s only hope is that this whole business will be over soon. That the plot will be exposed and everyone will know he didn’t do anything wrong.”
“And how’s that going to happen?” whispered Jonas. “When we don’t even know —”
Meonok burst into the room. The door slammed against the wall behind him.
“They got ’em!” he cried, pumping his fist triumphantly in the air. “And they’re bringing ’em here!”
“Who?” asked Jonas. “Who have they got? Who’s got who?”
No one answered.
“Are they all right?” asked Nahira.
Meonok shrugged his shoulders. “Going to throw them a party?” he asked.
“That’s not exactly in the budget,” Nahira said. “The way things are at the moment, we haven’t even got anywhere for them to sleep.”
The TV was showing the same pictures it had for the past two days.
“For who?” asked Jonas. “Nahira, have you got Liron?”
Nahira shook her head, and gave him a tired look. “I’m sorry, Jonas,” she said. Then she signaled to her men. “We’ll have to do as we’ve done before — cut some fresh branches. Lorok, Meonok, make a camp for three.”
“Now? In the dark?” protested Meonok. “Can’t they just sleep on the ground?”
“The boy can help you,” said Nahira. “Hurry up, so you finish before they get here.”
Jenna stumbled when she stepped down from the truck in the darkness. The clearing swirled before her eyes, and if first Perry and then Nahira hadn’t grabbed her arm, she would have collapsed to the ground.
“She hasn’t slept for days,” she heard Perry say, as if trying to excuse her. After that she didn’t hear anything else.
When she woke up, it was morning. Perry lay next to her, fast asleep on a bed of pine branches, the scent of which had accompanied her in her dreams. In his sleep, Perry had put his left arm over her shoulder
, as if to protect her.
Poor Perry, thought Jenna. Poor, brilliant little Perry. Now I know what Jonas meant when he called Malena his sister. You’ve been my brother during these last few days — and that will never change.
Carefully she removed his arm from her shoulder and sat up. In the tiny shack to which they had been taken last night, everyone was trying to be quiet in order not to wake the newcomers. Now Nahira was there, smiling at her and putting a finger to her lips, pointing toward Perry.
Jenna nodded.
Through the open door she could see Meonok carrying the television set to the pickup truck. Nearby, Lorok was busy lifting a satellite dish off a tree stump. It looked incongruous here in the forest clearing. A third man hurried through the narrow doorway, carrying a cable.
“We have to go!” whispered Nahira. “It’s too dangerous here. Since last summer we’ve moved from one place to another practically every day. It’s a pain, but we have to.”
Perry opened his eyes and stretched.
“Just don’t ask, ‘Where am I?’” said Jenna as he looked at her, half-asleep and bewildered. “You’re not Sleeping Beauty.”
He yawned. “More like Hansel and Gretel, by the looks of things,” he said. “Though I could sleep for days. Anyway, where are we?”
Lorok poked his head through the door. “We’re ready now,” he said.
“We’re off,” said Nahira, motioning to Perry to stand up. Jenna could see that she was on edge. “We’re almost off. No shower today, and you’ll have breakfast on the way.”
Perry yawned and stretched again. “OK by me,” he said, getting up. “As long as that whole kidnapping thing is over.” Then he seemed to recall what he had figured out the day before. “At least as long as that’s over,” he murmured again, but his face had fallen.
Jenna was scarcely listening. She had a feeling that she knew the third man who was helping Meonok to load the truck. Oh! How could she have …?
“Jonas!” she cried, and jumped up. Then she stopped in her tracks. Ylva! she thought. How could I forget that, even for a second?
Jonas stood against the back of the truck, his arms folded defiantly across his chest, gazing out over the clearing. He turned toward her, his face expressionless. “Hello, Jenna,” he said without even smiling. Then he turned away again, and helped Lorok fasten the sides of the truck.
Jenna’s face turned red. She could ask later what he was doing here. But how could she have forgotten about Ylva?
Now he’s freaked that I’ll throw myself at him again, thought Jenna, feeling the redness deepen. Like at the garden party, when he had to literally run away from me. Oh God! He’s trying to show me that he doesn’t care so that I don’t get the wrong idea again.
She mustn’t think about it! Not now. She’d seen Jonas with Ylva, oh so gracefully sucking face, so he didn’t have to stress that she’d make things any more awkward. Just for a moment on Sunday she’d thought he shared her feelings, but now she knew better. As soon as she had the chance, she would show him that he was safe from her, no worries.
From the truck, Lorok signaled that they could go. Jenna stood tall and walked toward the clearing. Toward Jonas.
“Cool to see you,” she said with the smile that she had learned to put on for the cameras — though rarely with much success. Lorok cupped his hands to lift her onto the back of the truck. “We’re so relieved to be out of that terrible fisherman’s hut, aren’t we, Perry? And what’s been happening with you?” Perry had waited for her to climb in first; now she stretched out her hand to him, and without Lorok’s help he clambered up and joined her.
To her surprise, Jenna found the fake smile easy to keep up. Shouldn’t she really be feeling happy, after all? Relieved? Wasn’t she glad that they’d rescued her? And she was still alive!
Who was Jonas, anyway? What did it matter who he was in love with, or who he was hooking up with, or what he thought of her? Lovesickness! she said scornfully to herself. What’s that compared to being afraid for your life? Her lips tightened. It was no use. Her head was saying one thing, but her heart … Stop that! she told herself. You’re Princess of Scandia, and you’ve just been freed from your kidnappers. You’re still alive, which is all that matters.
“Hello, Perry,” said Jonas. Surely it wasn’t necessary for him to look as coldly at his best friend as he had at her?
Perry laughed. “Funny seeing you here!” he said, punching Jonas’s arm. “How come? Did you hear what happened to Jenna and me?”
Nahira was the last to climb on the back of the truck. Meonok closed the flap and fastened it. “We can go,” said Nahira. She sat down opposite Jenna and Perry.
Jonas sat with his back to the driver’s cab. “Everyone in Scandia knows about it,” he said without looking at Perry. Then he gazed out at the passing forest.
“Crazy, right?” said Perry. “Hey, Jonas, is something wrong?”
“We must hurry,” Nahira interjected. “As soon as the plotters find out we’ve taken their hostages, they’re bound to take action. And quickly, too.”
Jenna looked up. “Action?” she said. Nahira’s voice had sounded tense.
“I wonder if they’ve found out yet,” said Perry. “Your men took the guards’ phones. They’ve got no way of telling anyone.”
“True,” said Nahira. “But sometime during the morning, their contacts will realize what’s happened. Then the question is what they’ll do.”
Perry nodded. Jonas kept his eyes so fixed on the forest, it was as if he was preparing for a presentation in biology class on the growth patterns of pine trees. Jenna forced herself to look at Nahira. What’s lovesickness? Don’t be such a drama princess, Jenna. Better to think about the serious political situation at hand, what needs to be done now.
Then she remembered. “We made a discovery, Perry and me! Nahira, did Perry already tell you about it last night? In this old factory by Saarstad. We’ve got to —”
“I know,” said Nahira. “Lorok found out about it, too. That was why I met with Liron. But we were careless — unforgivably careless!”
“Why didn’t you go to the press, then?” cried Jenna. The truck bounced through a pothole, and she had to cling to the side. “Instead of meeting with Liron? They could have taken photographers along, and then everyone in the country would have known …”
“Jenna!” said Nahira. “Me? And the press? I’m the leader of the rebels! Who would have believed me? I’d have been locked up before anyone could have gone to the depot!”
“Then let us do it now,” said Jenna. “Perry and me! Take us to a police station — or a television station! We’ll tell them what we saw —”
“To give them the heads-up so that they can clear out the depot pronto?” said Jonas dismissively. Now he did look at her. “How naïve are you two? Haven’t you noticed the way the media have been reporting things for weeks on end? Whose side they’re on — ever since last year? These people will clear out whatever they can clear out, or even pack the place with weapons to show that the rebels had set up the depot and are planning an armed revolution!”
Jenna hesitated. An image came to mind. “On Sunday I saw the editor in chief of the Scandia Times at the von Thunbergs’,” she recalled. “At the party. Where there was so much to eat.” She looked at the others. “But all this time, his paper’s been reporting that the people of Scandia are going hungry, because the rebels … Jonas is right. We can’t go to the media.”
“They’re also claiming they’ve found weapons everywhere,” said Nahira. “You wouldn’t know about that, but the news has been full of it since yesterday. In factories in the south, farmhouses in the north, even in a cemetery! The people in the south feel threatened again. Fear’s spreading all over Scandia. So everyone is more than willing to believe whatever the papers and television tell them about the rebel menace. And that’s what the plotters are building on.”
“So there’s no way of informing the country about what’s going on in
that old warehouse?” asked Jenna. “There must be at least one paper in Scandia, one TV station that isn’t —”
“We’ve got no choice,” said Nahira with an impatient shrug. “But the danger is that we might achieve the exact opposite —”
“Because then the conspirators will be warned,” said Jonas, once again staring out at the passing forest.
“Probably,” said Jenna. “But the plotters already know that Perry and I found the depot. And now we’re free …”
Up until then, Perry had said nothing. He’s thinking of his father, thought Jenna. Nobody understands his feelings better than I do.
But now he looked up. “You’re talking as if Scandia is the same country it was a year ago,” he said. “But it isn’t. We’ve got foreign TV broadcasters here now, foreign newspaper bureaus, and the Internet. Every Scandian has access to the outside world. So if we try to get the international press …”
“Yes!” cried Jenna. “They’ve all got correspondents here in Scandia. If we took them to the factory …”
“You’ve got their phone numbers?” Nahira asked ironically.
“I’ll call Bea!” Jenna insisted. “She can arrange it for us. She’ll do it, or her father!” She looked at Nahira.
Nahira hesitated.
“It’s worth a shot, Nahira,” said Perry. The truck hit another pothole, and he was thrown against Jenna. “What other options do we have? If my theory about the southern aristocrats is correct, then the situation is critical. Now that we’ve escaped, who knows, they might even launch their coup today.”
“Today,” murmured Nahira. “Today …”
“At least let Jenna try to contact Bea,” said Perry.
Nahira raised her head, and passed one of her cell phones to Jenna.
Jenna opened it. She’d known the number by heart for years. At first it had been Bea’s father’s, until Bea had taken it over from him. Mom’s old number and Bea’s, Jenna thought. I’ll never forget those two, though Mom’s got a different one now.
She heard it ringing. And then came that familiar voice, which she had heard hundreds of times through the years — friendly but impersonal. “The person you have called is not available …”