At least until she gained more leverage and could find a way to get rid of the woman who currently shared Steven’s bed.
Chapter 28
“Pablo, do not start that. Please.” Maddie pleaded as much with her eyes as she did with her words.
She removed her feet from the medical stirrups and gripped Pablo’s hands in her own. He barely heard the click of the door behind the departing Cate.
“She said you’re ‘high risk.’ Those were her words,” he whispered.
“Yes, I know. But that isn’t a death sentence. Cate and Amelia will take care of me and the baby, and everything will be fine. Don’t get hysterical on me.”
Despite the wave of apprehension, Pablo felt stung by the words. Enough so that he forced himself to get control of the panic before it gained a foothold.
“Okay. I won’t.” He took a deep breath. “But you’re not raising a finger until the baby arrives. Is that clear?”
Maddie smiled. “At least the preeclampsia explains the headaches. I was worried it might be because of the visions.”
“Yes, or the bullet that’s still lodged in your beautiful skull,” he added, careful to maintain a shred of composure.
“You got the short end of the stick with me and my misshapen womb, didn’t you, Poet Fellow? Too bad you’re just now finding this out after my warranty has expired. Sucks to be you.”
“No, it doesn’t. As long as I have you, no matter what shape you’re in, I’m the luckiest man on earth.”
“In light of how few of you dudes are still around, that’s not the grandiose testament it should be. I promise I will be a lazy slug for the next few months, if you promise to stop being such a drama queen about me and my health. Seriously, Pablo, it doesn’t do any good. It affects your emotional well-being and it affects my blood pressure. Do we have a deal? Pinky swear?” She extended a slender finger with an expectant look.
He ignored it, planting a soft kiss on her lips instead. “We have a deal. But only under the condition that you relinquish veto power of the name.”
“No way. I know how your poet brain works. I don’t want my child answering to Edgar or Rudyard. He’ll get beaten up on the playground every day of his life.”
“What about Dylan or William or Henry? There are plenty of poet names that don’t evoke violence. And what if it’s a girl? Almost all the female poets have lovely names. Maya, Emily, Sylvia.”
“Not Sylvia. It sounds like a woman who plays bridge and drinks too much gin on weekday afternoons. I like Emily though. And I like Dylan.”
“Agreed.” He kissed her again, gripping the examination table with bloodless fingers.
###
Hecate, shortened to ‘Cate’ now as a way of fitting in with the townsfolk, hummed a strange, discordant tune as she crushed the dried herbs with an ancient mortar and pestle. It had been handed down to her from her mother before she died of a burst appendix shortly after Chicxulub. Her grandmother had given it to her mother before she passed of natural causes a decade earlier. According to family folklore, it had been chiseled out of a rare type of black granite sourced from a quarry in Wales some eight hundred years ago. Cate didn’t know if the legend were true, but it pleased her to believe it was. She enjoyed thinking about what her life might have been like as the village Wise Woman in pagan pre-Roman Britannia or Gaul. Back then, before the damn Christians took over, women like her were respected...revered. How wonderful that must have been, not having to hide what they were from people who didn’t understand their gifts. Even now, despite her knowledge of anatomy, disease, and mainstream medicine, she still raised eyebrows when resorting to one of her natural herbal treatments. There was also the time a couple of months ago when Natalie had caught her using her healing hands on one of the Hays girls. The girl had recovered nicely from her chlamydia; and the burn scars, a side effect of her gift, were barely noticeable now.
Why couldn’t people just let her do her job and leave her the hell alone? Hecate, the Greek goddess of witchcraft, was her namesake for good reason. She was exceptional; had been a shining star in a family of talented women. How dare these idiots in Liberty question her?
She sighed, then continued whistling the odd tune. She loved being in her basement where nobody could peer over her shoulder or give her one of those sideways judgmental glances. The townspeople knew better than to offend their only doctor, so they weren’t obvious about their disdain. But she could feel it coming off most of Liberty’s residents like a low frequency radio wave; like they had caught a whiff of something unpleasant when she smiled at them. Her mother always said she had a lovely smile, but a person’s body language didn’t lie. Not many people in town liked her, except maybe Steven. And Maddie, who probably was only nice to her because she was helping with her pregnancy. Pretty girls like Maddie had never given her the time of day before.
It was a shame Maddie would have to die in order for Cate to get the baby. The baby was everything. The baby, although not of her bloodline, would be her legacy. She would raise the child as her own and teach her everything she knew. While it wouldn’t possess the healing gift, she could still share the repository of knowledge she had accumulated over the years: mountains of pathological information, a reservoir of obscure remedies which had fallen through the cracks of modern medicine, and a wealth of botanical expertise. Much had been taught to her growing up, but some added by herself. She was a tireless researcher.
The combination of flora she was even now crushing in the granite bowl was her own creation. She had tested it several times on pregnant animals before and after the plague, with brilliant results. The plan had been germinating for years; a last resort measure in case she never became pregnant herself. When taken in the correct dosage, it would bring about the slow decline and eventual death of the mother, while leaving the developing fetus unharmed.
The best part was, when the baby was extracted from the dead or near-dead mother, it would appear lifeless. But within a few minutes of birth, the seemingly dead baby, whose physiological functions had merely slowed to a near imperceptible state, would ‘come back to life.’
That was why she had a litter of kittens crawling around the hard-packed dirt floor, all healthy, and even now mewling for their bottle feeding. The mother cat had been buried in the wooded area behind the house – the pet cemetery for all those other animals experimented on during the last thirty years.
The tricky part was dosage. A hundred and twenty-pound human needed more than a ten-pound cat. Maddie had complained of headaches and her blood pressure was higher than ideal, both symptoms of preeclampsia, which was the perfect cover for the effects of the elixir Cate had been giving her for a month now. She mixed in a bit of dried blueberry to mask the bitterness and make it more palatable, and Maddie had sworn she was drinking it daily, believing it to be an innocuous tincture of homeopathic vitamins and nutrients.
Just a few more months to go and she would finally hold the baby that would be her legacy; would be redemption in her own eyes and in those of the ghosts of her ancient family.
###
Jessie moaned in her sleep. Amelia was instantly awake. Her slumber these days was as shallow as a cat’s grave.
Amelia frowned in the dark, puzzled by the macabre simile her own brain had manufactured.
Another moan from Jessie’s bed demanded her attention.
Amelia cooed softly in her antediluvian language, brushing the child’s messy hair from her forehead.
Jessie’s eyes fluttered open. There was terror in their depths.
“Hello, my precious dlynga. You’re safe now. I’m here with you and will never let anything or anyone hurt you. Can you speak of it yet, or do you need a minute to breathe?”
The cherub lips trembled as she took deep, calming breaths – an exercise learned from her mentor.
“I think the Smiling Man knows where we are now.”
These were the words she had been dreading. “How do you know? Tell me everything, ch
ild.”
“I think Lootinent Martin is in danger. There’s a scary Spider Lady close to him all the time. I think she wants to kill him.”
“Spider Lady? What does she look like? Wait, never mind. It doesn’t matter. What about the Smiling Man?”
“He’s looking into a fire. The Spider Lady is sitting next to him. Lootinent Martin is on the other side. He’s looking into the fire too, but the Spider Lady only stares at the Smiling Man. I think she’s in love with him. He’s very bad. How could anyone be in love with a man who is so bad?”
“I have no idea, child, but I’ve seen it thousands of times. What else?”
“The Smiling Man told them about his dream. In the dream he saw many things. He saw a sign.”
“Oh dear. Was it our sign?”
The singsong voice took on an ominous tone. “STOP. YOU ARE UNDER ARMED SURVEILANCE. PLACE ALL WEAPONS ON THE GROUND BEHIND YOU. WAIT. YOU WILL BE APPROACHED AND ASSESSED. IF WE LIKE YOU, YOU WILL BE ALLOWED TO STAY. IF YOU MEAN US HARM OR CAUSE TROUBLE, WE WILL KILL YOU. WELCOME TO LIBERTY, KANSAS. This is what the Smiling Man told the Spider Lady and Lootinent Martin that he saw on the sign. Is that our sign?”
“Yes, it is. What else did he say?”
“He said the sign smacks of that cunning clever...and then he said a terrible word. I’m not supposed to say words like that.”
“No need. I can imagine what it was. Please continue.”
“He said he could smell her. That he could see her parading around town like it was the...Palatine? I think that was the word. Then he looked at a map in the firelight. He put his finger on it and said, ‘That’s it, Lootinent Martin. There’s our Rome.’ That’s when I got that feeling. The one I get when you said I should hide. Right before he turned around, I ran behind a tent. Someone was in there snoring. Anyway, I’m pretty sure he didn’t see me.”
Amelia felt a stab of alarm. “Are you positive he didn’t see you?”
The child hesitated a second before answering. The vocabulary of a seven-year old made it difficult to articulate the nebulous world of astral travel. She forced herself to be patient, despite the trepidation that was beginning to take root in her soul.
“I think he knew someone was there, but I don’t think he could see who. I’m positive he didn’t see that it was me.”
The confidence in the voice gave her only a modicum of relief. Perhaps the Smiling Man didn’t know about Jessie, but he most certainly knew the location of their town.
“Was there anything else?”
“No. After that, I just woke up and you were there.”
Amelia kissed the warm forehead; one of the side effects of langthal was increased body temperature. Healers, whether they were able to merely self-heal, or possessed the rare gift of healing others, always ran hotter than the average 98.6 degrees. It was one of the clues she had noticed upon her first encounter with Jessie all those months ago. The second clue was the curing of the arthritis in her right hand when Jessie had touched it in the back seat of the Highlander on their road trip from Arizona. The evidence continued to mount when the child saved Maddie after her head trauma, then left no doubt when she healed her beloved Fergus after the mortal injuries the Hays bullets had wrought on that ghastly day.
This little girl was the reason the love of her dilatant life was still making a pilgrimage to the Atlantic Ocean instead of going the way of her old friend Thoozy.
“The sun won’t be up for another hour. Do you think you can go back to sleep?”
An enormous yawn erupted on the elfin face. “I think so. Will you stay here with me?”
“I’ll be right next door in the kitchen, making coffee. Is that close enough?”
“Yes. I like to snuggle in bed and smell your coffee. It’s a nice smell.”
“It’s heaven in a cup. You’ll be smelling it a lot in the weeks to come. Go back to sleep now. A growing girl needs her rest.”
Amelia tucked the covers up under the child’s chin and closed the bedroom door behind her. A candle was burning in the kitchen.
“And why are you up so early, young lady? Don’t you know that baby bump needs rest?”
“Good morning,” Maddie yawned. “It’s the headache again.”
The small woman frowned. The headaches weren’t surprising considering her former injury, and now the preeclampsia, but they were worrisome.
“I’ll make some coffee. A little caffeine won’t hurt the baby and may help with the headache.”
“That sounds good. There’s some cream in the cooler on the back porch. Bessie was in a generous mood yesterday.”
The Holstein and her calf had been brought home in the HG trailer after the cannibal incident. While the cost in human lives would never be worth it, the fresh milk was a priceless boon to the town. The milk and subsequent cheese had to be rationed, but as Liberty’s only pregnant resident, Maddie received the lion’s share.
Amelia went about the business of making coffee. She stirred up the banked coals in the fireplace, then added kindling and wood to the growing flames. Clean water from one of the town’s two functioning wells was put in plastic five-gallon Sparkletts bottles, then transported to homes via wagon or sled, depending on the weather. Everyone who was able-bodied fetched their own water. The elderly or infirm received weekly water deliveries courtesy of whomever had the extra time. This time of year, the chore had fallen to the greenhouse workers due to their lightened winter workload. In the spring, when less firewood was needed to keep the residents warm and the gardeners were busy with the business of farming, the task would go to the fuel crew. Everyone hated hauling water, and as soon as time allowed, more wells would be dug. But in the meantime, they made do. Fortunately for Amelia, Pablo had shouldered that burden along with the million other things he did for their blended family.
His surprise gift to her of five pounds of Maxwell House instant coffee had scored him an ardent kiss on the lips. Just like her sleep, Amelia treasured her morning coffee.
“Here you are, my dear,” she said, handing a steaming frothy cup to Maddie and sitting down at the kitchen table. “Two sugars and one glug of cream, just like you like.”
“Thank you. Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
“You don’t have to. I already know.” Amelia squeezed the pale slender fingers with her own smaller, darker ones.
“I had another dream.” Maddie said in a low voice.
“About the man? The one Alfred warned you of?”
She nodded. “He’s getting closer. I can feel him. He’s coming.”
“Tell me everything you can. Every detail. Leave nothing out.”
“There are people around him. Lots of people. An army, even. That’s the vibe I get...like he’s leading an army of people right to our doorstep. If it weren’t for feeling so shitty, I’d be more alarmed. There’s only so much I can handle at one time...emotionally, physically. You know what I mean?”
“Yes, I do. There’s nothing more important than taking care of that baby. Let others deal with this business. What else?”
“Everything is a bit foggy, not quite as clear as when I had the vision in Oklahoma, but I can tell you Alfred was right. That guy is one scary mother-effer. He seems to be gunning for someone in particular, but I don’t know who. I keep hearing the word ‘Rome,’ but I get the sense he’s heading this way. I think he’s in the northern part of Oklahoma now, but they’re moving slow. He rides a black horse, but his people...army or whatever...are on foot. I can’t see how many there are but I think it’s a lot. More than a hundred. Oh, and he has everyone branded when they join. The shape is a wheel with spokes and it’s carved onto their forearms...like a tattoo, but it’s actually a scar. Anyway, that’s all I remember.”
Amelia nodded. Of course she had no intention of sharing Jessie’s visions with anyone. It was her job to keep the child’s gifts hidden. Nobody knew about her extraordinary talents, except herself and Tung...and Fergus, wherever he was. So the more informatio
n she got from Maddie, the better the case she could build when she presented it to the town leaders. And if she embellished with details from Jessie, nobody would need to know.
Which she would do as soon as the sun came up and she had three more cups of coffee in her belly.
Chapter 29
“Let me get this straight. The pregnant girl had a dream and now we’re going to drop everything we’re doing, all the plans we’ve taken great pains to design and implement, just to fortify our defenses against a threat that may be imagined? A threat literally dreamed up by a hormonal young woman?”
If Calvin had been looking at Amelia instead of Steven when he spoke those words, he would have felt her animosity burn a hole in his face. An impromptu meeting had been called and the courthouse was still chilly. The few bodies in attendance weren’t sufficient to heat up the space, but Calvin had insisted on employing the town crier so everyone would know what was going on. Transparency.
A few intrepid souls had shown up, but the dialogue was limited to Amelia and the two co-mayors. Dani was present but silent, and in a sour mood judging by the expression on her face.
“Calvin, you’re new here,” Steven said, “but I know you’ve heard the story of Maddie’s visions. They proved to be accurate then, so they could be now as well.”
“They are accurate,” Amelia snapped. “Ignorance is a choice, gentlemen. There has been no greater peril than what we now face. I would expect better from our leaders than willful obtuseness, particularly as it applies to the safety of every person in this town.”
Both men raised their eyebrows and looked at her.
“With all due respect, Miss Amelia, a dramatic shift in our priorities now will cause significant problems down the road. We have so many big projects planned for the spring, and all require elbow grease and man hours now...woman hours, too,” he added quickly. “So if all that comes to a screeching halt to build a fortress and train an army, all those plans...the wheat crop, the power grid, and the hundred other improvements...vanish into thin air like so much smoke. I can tell you, the citizens won’t be happy about that.” The preacher seemed pleased with his argument. He felt confident the town would be on his side in the matter.
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