Anyone?

by Scott, Angela

  “Yeah, it is, but why?” His eyes widened and he bobbed his head. “Ask yourself that.” If he expected a response, he didn’t get one. He knelt next to the poles, tore off long pieces of tape, and began fastening them together. “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

  Maybe a little. “Please don’t do this to me.”

  He wound more tape around the sticks without looking at me. “Do what?”

  “I don’t want to be disappointed again.”

  “I hate to break it you, but life is brimming with disappointments. There’s no getting around it.” This time he looked at me and cocked a brow. “Would you rather I leave that sock where it is? I can, you know.”

  I glanced up at the hidden thing, curious. Someone had a reason to throw it up there. But a sock? Really?

  “Fine.”

  It took several tries to manipulate the extra long stick into place. Cole got close, but the upper pole slipped and didn’t want to stay together. He lowered the whole thing back to the floor and started redoing the tape again.

  I folded my arms across my chest. “Why don’t you use your magical abilities and fly up there and get it?”

  “Ha, ha, you’re funny.” He glared at me. “Stop being a pain in the ass and give me a hand with this.”

  I knelt beside him and tore off the long pieces of tape he needed, though I couldn’t imagine the wobbly contraption actually working. The whole thing looked awkward, and he looked awkward trying to work it.

  “This should do it.” He positioned himself below the antlers again, balancing on his toes to get enough height and leverage, and poked the sock, trying to dislodge it from its hammock-style position. After a few more jabs, and with a bit of nudging and probing, the sock fluttered to the ground.

  Cole dropped the poles and they clattered on the tiled floor. He nodded to me. “Go ahead.”

  If it was just a sock, and nothing else, I didn’t know what I’d do. Yes, disappointment was part of life, but hadn’t I already suffered more than my fair share of it?

  “Do it already. If nothing else, we now have a new sock for your cat to play with.” His attempt at a positive spin didn’t help me any.

  “It is what it is, right?” I looked at him for encouragement.

  He gave an impatient nod. “I’m going to grab it if you don’t.”

  I bent over and snatched the sock into my hand, trying my best to keep my expectations low. It crinkled like paper.

  What? I squeezed it again, unsure I had actually felt something inside the old sock.

  It crinkled like before.

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly as I slipped my hand inside the dingy thing. My fingers wrapped around a tiny piece of paper, folded into fourths. I removed the worn and wrinkly paper and allowed the sock to fall to the ground.

  “Tess, you’re killing me here!” Cole motioned to the paper.

  I carefully unfolded it, read it, and then read it again. I looked up at him with tears glistening in my eyes. “It’s from my dad.” I recognized the handwriting, even if he hadn’t used my name to address it to me or signed his own. He left me a note.

  “Sweet! What did he say?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not sure.”

  Cole took the paper from me and angled it so the natural light fell on it. He read it, flipped it over, saw nothing on the backside, and then flipped it over and read once more. “He’s a man of few words isn’t he?”

  “Why this?” I tapped the paper he still held. “Why not leave a complete note on the door or place it on the bar so I could see it? A cryptic note shoved into a sock way up high in an antler chandelier? What was he thinking?”

  Cole shrugged. “Maybe this was his way of protecting you in case someone else found it.”

  “Someone else? There is no one else!”

  “We don’t know that. We don’t know much of anything, if you think about it.”

  He had a point, but really? “Okay, so what does this mean? ‘Follow the arrows. Wait by the window. 2:37 a.m. Watch for me.’ That doesn’t make any sense. What arrows? What window?” Could he have made this any harder?

  “I don’t know, but I suggest we start looking. We only have a few more hours of light before this scavenger hunt becomes a lot more difficult.”

  I tucked the strange little note into my pocket and followed Cole’s lead. He moved around the room and ran his hands over the log walls, feeling them like he was reading Braille, so I explored the guest check-in counter, the bar, and each piece of furniture, doing the same. Nothing.

  Arrows, arrows, arrows... where are you?

  I examined each large window, thinking maybe I could skip the first step, but none of the windows were marked with anything other than a layer of grime. “I don’t know what I’m looking for. I might have already run across an arrow and didn’t know it.”

  “Then we keep looking until it becomes clear.” Cole crept along the dusty floor boards on his hands and knees. “You want to find your dad then you need to start looking harder.”

  “Harder? I am looking hard! This is impossible.”

  He sat back, smiled, and pointed to my bracelet hanging from an antler. “Where there is a will, there is a way. You’d know that if you still had your bracelet.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Yeah, thanks for reminding me. Except, that’s not always....”

  No friggin’ way!

  My fingers brushed across a notched-out emblem along the edge of the bottom stair. A tiny carved arrow pointed upward. My breath hitched in my throat and I blinked several times. I ran my finger over and over it.

  Hotcakes on a burner! I found it!

  “Except it’s not always what?” He stared at me, waiting for me to continue. “If you can’t finish your thought, then there is no exception and I win.”

  I couldn’t speak, but waved frantically for Cole to come see.

  “What? You found it?” He jumped to his feet and ran across the room to where I knelt next to the stairs. I pointed to the tiny arrow, and his face broke out in a huge grin. “All righty, then. Now we know what to look for.”

  Each consecutive arrow became easier to spot: one along the balcony railing; another along the edge of the carpet; a third notched into the picture frame hanging on the wall. Ten total arrows led to a small room on the far end of the lodge—maids’ quarters.

  I would never have guessed the window, the size of a book, was the one mentioned in the note, but a small arrow had been carved into the frame. It overlooked the lake and part of the valley, and even though the window was small, a whole lot of land was packed into that space. Miles and miles of it.

  Cole had gathered Callie from downstairs, and now the three of us sat on the edge of the twin bed, staring out the box-sized window as the sun faded to darkness. We had no way of knowing the correct time, not really, but it didn’t matter; the blackness outside captivated us like a movie screen. If there was something to see, we would see it.

  Time ticked by, and we sat in silence, watching, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Cole wrapped his hand around mine, and we sat together, waiting.

  At first, I thought I might have been seeing things, so I scooted forward on the edge of the bed and blinked my blurry eyes. “Do you see that?”

  A white light, steady and constant amid the blackness. A light where there shouldn’t be any.

  “I do.” Cole released my hand and jumped up from the bed. He looked out the window several minutes before running to the side table and circling a section on his worn map with a Rockport Lodge complimentary pen. “I think that’s where it’s coming from. I don’t know how far it is, I can only guess, but I’m estimating maybe five or six miles. Ten at the most. We can be there tomorrow if we get going first thing in the morning.” He went back to the window and fiddled with his map by the light of his fading headlamp, double-checking his markings. “What do you think? Leave here by dawn?”

  He swung his head in my direction, and the light from the small headl
amp illuminated the slick dark substance coating my shaking hands and running from both my nostrils. The coppery taste of blood dripped down my throat, choking me.

  I couldn’t speak, but at the rate the blood flowed, picking up pace as it raced over my fingers and soaked the front of my t-shirt, waiting until dawn wasn’t an option.

  Trees zipped past as though caught in a spinning vortex. Their shapes and sizes blended together becoming blurred lines in my peripheral vision. The crunch of snow beneath Cole’s feet developed into a soft hum—solid, consistent, and without pause.

  “I wish you’d told me.” He kept repeating the words. “You should have told me, Tess.”

  Maybe, I should have, but honestly, I thought I had more time than this. And if I was even more honest, I’d hoped this wouldn’t happen at all.

  It didn’t hurt, not really. Only when the blood oozed down my throat, making it difficult to breathe, did I panic at all. The rest of the time, I lay in Cole’s arms and stared at the swirling stars above me and the flash of dizzying trees around us.

  It felt like flying, and I really hoped we were.

  Because there was no way we were going to make it in time.

  And I really wanted to see Dad.

  Large industrial fans whirled over head and their giant blades moved without sound. Florescent light bulbs faded in and out, popping and hissing in my ear, and the corrugated walls reminded me of Dad’s underground bunker. Similar, but different.

  Wherever we were, we moved quickly. Multiple footsteps slapped the cement and echoed down the long corridor. Indistinct faces hovered around me, coming into view and then receding. A steel gurney pressed into my back, cold and uncomfortable, its creaky wheels carrying me away.

  “Where did you find her?”

  “By the entrance.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes.”

  That wasn’t true. Cole was with me. Where was he? Cole?

  “That’s impossible. She shouldn’t be alive, not after all this time.”

  “I’d have to agree, but impossible or not, she’s here. She made it.”

  I made it.

  “Jon insisted she’d find a way.”

  “I can’t believe that fool turned out to be right.”

  Dad? Where is he?

  The table rolled on and bumped over the divots in the floor. I’m not sure how I didn’t slide off, we moved so quickly. My eyes began to tear, and I blinked several times, but blinking only made the tears fall faster, though I wasn’t crying. The tears distorted my vision, giving everything a crimson hue.

  Where’s Dad? Why isn’t he here? I needed to see him.

  Blood gurgled in my mouth. I coughed and left a splattered mess on the passing wall. I couldn’t catch my breath. My lungs filled with my own blood, drowning me, and I pounded the table. Help me, please!

  “Hold her down!”

  Hands gripped my body from all angles, pressing down on my shoulders, hips, and ankles. The gurney didn’t stop moving.

  I struggled to sit up, to fight them off, to force a breath, but an unfamiliar face bent near mine. “This will hurt, but it will help.”

  The front of my shirt was ripped away and cool air chilled my bare skin. Before I could understand why, a man climbed on top of me, and straddled my waist, though not putting his entire weight on me. He raised my left arm above my head, and someone held it, keeping me from lowering it back to my side.

  What are you doing?

  He nodded to the others, then leaned forward and without warning, stabbed me between the ribs. I screamed and couldn’t stop.

  At least I think I screamed.

  The man continued to ride on the gurney with me, sliding a plastic tube into the incision he’d made between my ribs, while the others pushed us along. Blood ran down my side, and I could breathe—not deep breaths, but I no longer struggled. The more he inserted the tubing, the more my head swirled with pain, and I wished I’d pass out. That luxury hung out of reach, and instead, I felt everything.

  “Tess!”

  Dad?

  I tried to lift my head, to search for him, but the hands on my body held me in place.

  “Get out of the way, Jon!”

  “That’s my daughter!”

  I turned my head toward his voice, and smiled as my father forced his way toward me. He ignored those who yelled at him to stay back and pushed through them. He ran along the side of the moving gurney, holding on to it with one hand while tentatively touching my face with his other. His fingers quivered against my skin and tears rolled down his cheeks.

  “Oh, Tess. Oh, my sweet girl.”

  I wanted him to pick me up and carry me away, but he only cried and smoothed the hair from my eyes. I want to go home, Dad.

  “You can fix this, right?” He glanced to the others, but continued to stroke my face. “Right?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to do here, but she’s lost a lot of blood, Jon, and it’s not showing signs of stopping.”

  “Take mine then! Do what you have to do!” Dad cursed. “Give her my blood!”

  “If we can’t get her stable right now, your blood won’t help.”

  Dad looked at the man who sat on top of me for a long moment and neither of them spoke. Finally, Dad glanced to me and forced a smile. “He doesn’t know you like I do. He doesn’t know what you’re capable of, so you fight this, okay? You fought to get this far, so now that you’re here, I expect you to stay.”

  My eyes drooped, feeling heavy. I want to stay too. I’m not going anywhere.

  “Where is she?” Toby’s voice echoed down the corridor. He sounded so far away. “Where’s my sister? Tess! Tess!”

  I’m here, Toby. I’m here!

  I couldn’t see him, but heard him running toward me and despite the differences we’d had the past few years, I needed to see my brother. The gurney turned down a smaller corridor heading for a set of large doors faster than he could catch up.

  They told Dad he could go no farther, something about isolation and contamination, so he released my face and slipped away from view. “You’ll be okay,” he called to me. “You’ll be okay.”

  Dad? I had just found him, and now I had to leave him? They planned to isolate me? No. I tried to reach my hand out to stop him from going, to stop them from taking me away, but couldn’t muster the strength to lift my hand from the table. Don’t leave me.

  This wasn’t fair. A handful of minutes with my family wasn’t enough. I just got here!

  I turned my head in time to see Dad standing next to Toby—the two of them side by side, both looking defeated.

  “We love you, Tess!” Toby’s voice cracked as he hollered after me. “We love you!” He hadn’t said those words to me in years.

  I love you, too.

  The double doors swung closed behind me.

  “Tess, can you hear me?”

  Grogginess held me captive in its powerful grasp. I couldn’t quite open my eyes or turn my head, but I answered, “Yeah.” The oxygen mask muffled my words.

  “Sweetheart, I need you to wake up now. Can you do that for me?”

  Dad? Why does his voice sound so weird?

  A crackling, buzzing sound filled the room. “Open your eyes, honey.”

  I really didn’t want to, but I forced one eye open and then the other.

  He smiled at me through the glass and pressed a button on the wall. The crackling sounded again and his voice came through the intercom imbedded in the ceiling. “How are you feeling?”

  I slipped the mask off. “Not so good.”

  “I know, baby. I know.”

  “Then why did you wake me up?”

  He didn’t say anything, and I wondered if the intercom had stopped working, but I could see his finger on the button. “Toby’s here, too.” He motioned to my brother and Toby stepped into view, his face grim.

  “Hey, Tess.”

  “Hey.”

  Toby glanced to Dad, and Dad nodded at him. “It’s okay,” he
whispered, and the emotion in his voice carried through the intercom, something I didn’t think I was supposed to hear.

  “Dad, what’s going on?” I glanced around, taking in the sterile room, the IV bag hanging above my head, and sensors attached to my chest. A large tube ran from my side to a machine next to the bed; other machines displayed my inner workings. They beeped and hummed, filling the room with their droning. “What’s happening?”

  Dad looked at Toby but neither of them said anything for a long time. He turned away, his back to me, his shoulders rising and falling. My big, strong dad was crying.

  “Dad?”

  My brother moved closer to the intercom and held the button. “It doesn’t look good, Tess. They’re trying, but nothing seems to be helping. You keep getting sicker.”

  Behind Dad and Toby, two men sat at a table with computers. They seemed intent on the screens in front of them rather than listening to our conversation. It gave our family reunion a clinical feel. Not at all how I imagined this moment to be.

  I tried to shift on the bed, raise myself, but couldn’t. I gave up and sank back against the pillows. “What’s wrong with me?”

  Toby took a minute to speak. “Toxins in your blood are attacking your immune system and shutting your organs down.” He paused, glanced to Dad, but Dad kept his back to the both of us. Toby turned to me again and his eyes met mine. “Your case is pretty severe, Tess. They’re doing everything they can, but the things that have normally worked for others... aren’t working for you.”

  I lifted my hand and pointed at the men sitting at the table behind my brother. “They say this? Are they the ones saying they can’t fix me?”

  Toby nodded.

  “Are they even doctors? Do they even know what they’re doing?” I peered around the sterile room, taking in my full surroundings. The machines beeped louder. “Where are we?”

  “Tess, don’t... don’t get worked up, please.” He peered over his shoulder at the two men. One of them made a sign with his hand, and Toby turned back to me. “I’ll answer your questions, but take it easy, okay?”