“Three words,” Mark said. “Numbers actually. Nine-one-one. I’m guessing in about five minutes the Stony Brook police are going to be knocking on your door, wondering why you called.”
“Ohyeah?” Courtney shouted, then looked to Naymeer. “In your face!”
“Take them to the basement!” Naymeer commanded to his guards.
One guard made a move toward me, raising his Taser. Bad move. He thought I was still stunned. I wasn’t. I deflected his move and jammed the heel of my palm into his chest. I actually felt the air leaving his lungs as he collapsed. A quick look over my shoulder showed me that Alder had the other guard under his foot. Two guards down. Two Travelers up. It was good to be back home.
“Whoa,” said Courtney. “That was…interesting.”
“Get us the car,” Mark said calmly.
I thought Naymeer’s head was going to explode from all the blood that had rushed to it. His eyes flashed with anger. He started to say something, but Mark cut him off.
“We’ll probably hear the sirens any second.”
Naymeer grabbed his own phone and barked, “Bring a car round front. Open the gates. Now.”
The guy was barely holding it together. Like I said before, he was somebody who was used to being in control. And just then, he wasn’t.
“Take the weapon,” I said to Alder.
We each grabbed the Tasers from the red shirts. I really wanted to zap the guy who had zapped me. Instead, I stepped over him and walked up to Naymeer. I looked the guy up and down. “You have to know,” I said cockily, “this isn’t over.”
Naymeer took a breath. He was already getting himself back under control. The guy was good. I could see why so many followed him.
“Perhaps not,” he admitted. “But soon.”
Something was off. Maybe it was the confident way he spoke, or the evil he represented. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but a red flag was raised. I turned to Courtney with a questioning look. She knew exactly what I was thinking.
“No,” she answered. “He’s not Saint Dane.”
I looked back to Naymeer. He was smiling. “I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be,” I shot back.
“We’d better go,” Mark cautioned. “It wouldn’t be good for us to be found here.”
I turned and strode for the door. Alder, Courtney, and Mark followed. Before leaving, I turned back to Naymeer and said, “By the way, Al, I unquit.”
“It’s too late for that,” Naymeer sneered.
“Keep telling yourself that” was my answer.
I strode out the door, followed by the others. In the foyer of the mansion, Naymeer’s red shirts surrounded us. One made a move, but Alder held the Taser out and the guy backed off.
“Let them go,” Naymeer commanded. He was standing in the doorway to his office.
The guards backed off and we went out the door. I didn’t even stop to think about how odd it was that the deserted, empty Sherwood house was no longer deserted. There would be time to catch up later. We had to be gone. The large, wrought-iron gates in front of the mansion swung open to reveal a dark car waiting in front, its engine running.
“Pendragon!” Naymeer called.
I looked back.
“Welcome home.”
I really didn’t like him. Just as well. It would make taking him that much easier.
“I’ll drive,” Courtney announced and got in the driver’s seat.
I opened the rear passenger door and motioned for Alder to get inside. He had never been in a car before. He had no idea what was going on. I climbed in back with him; Mark jumped in the shotgun seat. Courtney sat with her hands on the wheel.
“The police will be here any second,” I said.
“They would be,” Mark answered, “if I had actually made the call.”
He looked at me and smiled. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
It had been a bluff. This definitely wasn’t the same old Mark. I liked this guy even more.
Mark asked Courtney, “When did you learn how to drive?”
“Long time ago,” she answered casually, putting the car in gear.
“How long?”
“About three seconds.”
She hit the gas and the car lurched forward. With a squeal of tires on asphalt, we were off. Before we cleared the opening of the stone wall in front of the place, I took a quick look back to see two of Naymeer’s guards running toward a pair of motorcycles.
I hoped that Courtney had learned a lot about driving in those three seconds.
JOURNAL #36
(CONTINUED)
SECONDEARTH
Look out!” Mark yelled.
“You think?” Courtney said calmly as she spun the wheel, barely missing a dog that had foolishly gone for a stroll around the time that a crazy girl with three seconds of driving experience was gunning the gas behind the wheel of a huge car while making a desperate escape. The dog yelped and jumped off the road. Safe but scared.
Alder pushed himself back into his seat. He had never been in a car before, let alone one driven by someone whose only experience was in driver’s ed class. At least, I hoped Courtney had taken driver’s ed. The way we were lurching from side to side, I wasn’t so sure. Poor Alder. He was thrown into a terrifying situation in an alien world. Poor all of us.
“That would be a stop sign,” Mark said, trying to be calm as we flew past one without stopping.
“I saw it,” Courtney snapped.
None of us asked the obvious question as to why she didn’t actually do what the sign said. “I can drive,” Mark said calmly.
Screeech! Courtney slammed on the brakes, making Alder and me hit our heads on the backs of the front seats.
“Whoa!” I shouted. “Easy. We’ve got enough problems.”
“Fine,” Courtney huffed. “You drive.”
She got out, turned to run around the car, and stopped. “Uh-oh.”
“What?” Mark asked as he climbed over to the driver’s side.
“They’re coming.”
Courtney sprinted around and jumped inside. I looked back to see the two motorcycles with the red shirts on board, pulling out of the Sherwood house.
“You up for this, Mark?” I asked.
“Let’s find out” was his answer.
I was happy he didn’t stutter. Confidence was good at this point. Before Courtney had time to slam the door, Mark jammed his foot down on the gas pedal, and we were off.
“You don’t know how to drive any better than I do!” Courtney complained.
As if to answer, Mark spun the wheel hard, made a ninety-degree turn, and gunned the engine. It almost seemed as if he knew what he was doing. Almost.
Mark explained, “I was all set to get my license, but some things came up.”
That was a pretty big understatement.
“We’ve got to find a place to hide,” I said.
Courtney corrected, “We’ve got to shake those guys first.”
Good point.
Mark said, “We’ve got an advantage.”
“What’s that?” Courtney asked.
Mark made another quick turn, throwing Alder into me.
“I’ve been riding my bike around here for years. I know every street. They don’t. We might not be able to outrace them, but we can make it tough to follow us.”
The car was some big-old American sedan. It didn’t exactly handle like a hot street racer, which was probably just as well. If we crashed in this land yacht we were in, none of us would even be scratched. That was negative thinking. We weren’t going to crash. I hoped.
Mark took a quick left on two wheels. We probably weren’t actually up on two wheels, but it sure felt like it. Alder looked white but didn’t make a sound. I think maybe he went into some Zen-like state to avoid an all-out terror puke.
“There!” Mark shouted, pointing.
“Where?” Courtney asked.
“There’s a dirt road that leads through the old cemetery on
King Street.”
I looked ahead to see two old, crumbling stone pillars on either side of a dirt road to our left.
Courtney shot him a look. “You’re not thinking about-”
Mark didn’t give her time to answer. He spun the wheel and accelerated into the turn. The car skidded, then sped between the two pillars with inches to spare on either side. We were on a rutted dirt road that probably hadn’t been driven on in months, if not years. It was overgrown with bushes that slapped at the car as we sped by.
“So much for the paint job,” Courtney commented.
The road continued on through an old cemetery that Mark and I used to ride our bikes to all the time. It was the kind of place that had more graves from the 1800s than from the present. Mark knew exactly where to go. He maneuvered the big car past an ancient, stone mausoleum and quickly braked. We all looked at one another, wide eyed.
“Okay, maybe you can drive,” Courtney gasped in awe.
Mark turned around and said, “If they didn’t see us come in here, we’re good. If they did, it’s the perfect place for you two to take them out with no witnesses.”
I had to smile. Mark was still a thinker. “I missed you, man.”
Mark gave me a big, proud smile. For a moment I saw the kid I had known for so long. It was great to be back with my friends.
We all jumped out and took up positions behind tombstones close to the road. If the motorcycles showed up and went for the car, we’d wait for them to pass and then attack from behind. We waited a solid five minutes-plenty of time to be sure that Mark had pulled off the impossible.
He had. We were free. The four of us stood up, surrounded by ancient graves. I looked at Alder in his bloody leathers and laughed.
Courtney did too. “I hope nobody sees you guys looking like that in a creepy cemetery. They’ll think the place is haunted by Viking ghosts.”
Mark and I laughed. Alder didn’t get it.
“Mark, Courtney, this is Alder. The Traveler from Denduron.”
Mark gave Alder a firm handshake. Alder wasn’t quite sure of what that meant, but he went along. “We’ve read all about you, Alder. I’m glad you’re here.”
Courtney actually gave Alder a hug. Alder wasn’t sure what to do about that. He didn’t seem to mind though.
“What was that for?” he asked.
Courtney answered, “For bringing Bobby home.”
“We have to find a safe place to regroup,” I said. “What about your house, Courtney?”
“No way. They already found us there once. And Mark’s house was torched.”
“What!” I shouted.
“We have so much to tell you, Bobby,” Mark said. “It could take months.”
“We don’t have months,” Courtney added. “It’s all happening here, Bobby. On Second Earth.”
“I know,” I said. “We saw Patrick.”
Mark and Courtney stared at me with wide, expectant eyes.
“He’s okay,” I assured them. “We sent him back to Third Earth.”
“But he was shot,” Courtney yelped.
“We got him help. He’s fine now, I promise you” was all I said. It wasn’t time to get into the whole “Travelers are illusions that can heal one another and I have no idea why” conversation.
“Man, that’s good news,” Mark said. “We needed some.”
“I know where we can go,” Courtney blurted out. “My parents’ boat is in a slip on the Signet River. They always put it in by the first of March. By the way, happy birthday, Bobby. You’re eighteen.”
It took me a second to get my head around that. “That feels…odd,” I said.
“What kind of boat?” Mark asked.
“Big sailboat. Sleeps six. They always have it geared up for overnight trips, so there’ll be dry clothes on board. We can’t have these guys running around like cavemen, and I am seriously tired of wearing your mother’s goofy clothes. No offense.”
I knew the Signet River. It flowed from upstate all the way into the Long Island Sound. Before it hit open water, the river turned from fresh water to salt and widened enough to hold a big marina with tons of docks and slips for small boats. Courtney’s idea was great, though I was pretty nervous about getting there. My biggest worry was that a cop would pull us over for something random. We’d have a heck of a time explaining who we were, why Mark didn’t have a license, and why we were covered with blood.
I’m happy to say that I was worried for nothing. We made it to the marina with no problem. Mark drove the car as if he’d been driving for years.
A lot of people in Stony Brook loved sailing. Though it was only March, the floating docks were all in the water, and most of the slips were already filled. Once the chance of a freeze was over, people were quick to get their boats into the water to take advantage of the short sailing season. The marina was so vast, I was sure we could easily lose ourselves in the labyrinth of docks and boats and not be seen from the shore. Better still, the sun had gone down and being March, it was cold. People may have loved sailing, but hanging out on a boat when it was nasty-raw cold wasn’t fun. We didn’t see a single person there. Which was perfect for what I had planned.
“Wait here,” I instructed everyone, and got behind the wheel of the car.
“Where are you going?” Courtney asked. “Just taking a short trip,” I answered. “Uh…what?”
I gave her a wink of assurance. While the others watched, I put the car in gear, hit the gas, and drove down the cement ramp that led down into the water. It was the ramp people used to launch their boats. They would back their trailers onto the ramp until the boat was floating in the water, then push the boat off and drive the trailer out. I had planned something similar, though there would be no driving out. It was the first time I’d driven a car since I got behind the wheel of Max Rose’s big old black sedan on the way to my date with the Hindenburg on First Earth. I didn’t know any more about driving than Courtney did. No, I knew less. Luckily, figuring out how to get this car moving was a lot easier than it was with Max Rose’s car. And I didn’t have far to go. I drove slowly down the steep, concrete grade and straight into the water until the car wouldn’t go anymore. I made sure all the windows were open so it would fill quickly. I climbed out of the driver’s window and into the cold water of Long Island Sound. The car was actually floating. I pushed it out even farther until water started flooding into the windows, and it got too heavy to maneuver. It was over in less than thirty seconds. The car was underwater. Invisible.
I sloshed back up onshore to meet the others, who stood watching.
“The next person who launches a boat is going to get a big surprise,” I said.
“Was that necessary?” Courtney asked. “I mean, now we don’t have any way of getting around.”
“It was,” Mark declared. “That car would have markedus.”
Alder added, “I am not sorry to see it go.” I didn’t blame him.
The three of us followed Courtney onto the dock.
“Things have changed,” Mark said as we walked along the maze of floating docks. “Let’s hope your parents still have a boat on this new Second Earth.”
“Most everything is the same,” Courtney said. “It would be really bad luck if this wasn’t.”
Courtney knew exactly where to go. We walked past many types of boats of all sizes. Speedboats, cabin cruisers, and sailboats. Toward the end of one dock we came upon a medium-size sailboat with a red flag flying from the mast. Seeing that flag was probably the most jarring thing I had experienced in a long time. And that’s saying something. On the flag was the star symbol that marked the gates to the flumes.
Courtney saw that I was staring at the flag. “Long story,” she said. “Let’s get changed first.”
The Chetwyndes had already outfitted their boat for the season. We found plenty of clean, dry clothes, though they weren’t exactly the kinds of things I was used to wearing. The Chetwyndes were suburban sailors. They mostly had khaki pants and
worn deck sneakers. They also had some T-shirts and a few thin sweaters. I chose a white T-shirt and a dark brown sweater. Alder took a deep green sweatshirt; Courtney, a dark blue hoodie. Before getting changed, we needed to wash. The Chetwyndes had a bottle of biodegradable soap that was okay to dump in open water.
“It’s cold,” I said to Alder.
“No colder than the rivers on Denduron” was his answer. Oh. Right. They didn’t have hot water on that territory.
While Courtney stayed below to change, Alder and I peeled off our crusty leathers and sank them underwater. We slipped quietly into the river and washed as best we could. It wasn’t ideal to be bathing in salt water, but it was better than nothing. We needed to get rid of not only the grime, but the dried blood. As cold as it was, it actually felt good. Call it symbolic, but I felt I was reacquainting myself with the sensations of home. Of course I didn’t usually go swimming in March, but it was still a great feeling. In some small way it made me feel centered. I was in familiar surroundings. I was home.
It was time to learn about how unfamiliar my surroundings had actually become.
Courtney found some canned tuna fish, and crackers that were kept in a plastic container to keep them fresh. It wasn’t exactly a feast, but it was better than nothing. I was starved. After we got dressed, the four of us sat down to eat.
“Look at us,” Courtney said, chuckling. “We look like a bunch of preppies in our khakis and sweaters.”
“What are preppies?” Alder asked.
How did you explain that to a knight? I took a shot. “Preppies are wealthy, conservative people who all dress alike.”
“Like the Bedoowan?” Alder asked.
That made me laugh, but he wasn’t far off. “Yeah. Preppies are like the Bedoowan. In Top-Siders.”
Mark and Courtney laughed at that one. Seeing Alder in clothes that were two sizes too small didn’t help. He looked like a monster preppy kid who had outgrown all his clothes. His pants were above his ankles, and his sleeves didn’t come close to reaching his wrists. Seeing that made us laugh even harder. Alder didn’t exactly get it, but he laughed too. It felt great. These were my best friends in the world. No, in Halla. Mark and Courtney had been with me since the beginning of this adventure, either in spirit or in person. It was as much their adventure as it was mine. It now looked as if we would be together at the end. That felt right, like it was the way things were meant to be. Though it feels odd writing this journal now, since Mark and Courtney are part of it. But I have to continue. Who knows where it will eventually end up and who will be reading it?
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