Trying to take her mind off the reentry, Jane remembered the security detail on Vista.
“Marcus,” Jane said over the sizzle of the burning atmosphere outside. “Did you get the other soldiers off Vista?”
Marcus looked over his shoulder at Jane. If the roar and the rumble of reentry was bothering him, his completely placid expression was hiding it well.
“I did … They’re locked in their shuttle. I think Evelyn powered it down too, so they’re completely in the dark. I think she means to cut them loose after we get back.”
“Well, what did you tell them?”
“I just told them I had the information we needed,” Marcus said, glancing back out the window.
“Yeah, but what exactly did you tell them?” Jane asked, her gut telling her he was hiding something.
“Can we talk about this later?” Marcus said, glancing quickly at Jane and then over the top of her head at Tate, who was also more interested in the conversation than the flames licking the window of the shuttle.
“Speak!” Jane said, now certain she was about to get news she didn’t want to hear.
Marcus sighed, winced, and looked back at Jane. “I told them that we … well, you know … that I … kind of … took advantage of you. That I seduced you and you fell for it and you told me everything I needed to know … about how to get Evelyn.”
Jane was silent for a moment.
“Pig,” she said, rolling her eyes and looking back out the window.
“Oh, come on, Jane. You know how guys are. After they heard that, they grabbed all their gear and left. They didn’t even question it.”
“Well, they’re a bunch of pigs too,” Jane said. She hated to admit it, but she admired the way Marcus had handled it. Her reputation had suffered, but better that than having innocent people get hurt. What disgusted her about it was that while she admired him for his creativity, she was repulsed at herself for feeling even the least bit flattered by it. Jane forced her spine stiff, feeling a shudder coming on.
Perhaps realizing he needed to stop talking, Marcus said nothing, and neither did Tate. Minutes passed, the tension and silence of the passengers making the roaring of the flames on the surface of the shuttle seem that much louder.
After what seemed like hours, the shuttle flattened out, the rockets fired, and the change in g-forces was enough for Jane to feel like she might lose control of her bladder. What made the sensation worse—free fall being slowed unconvincingly by friction—was the fact that it was completely black outside. There were no lights and no horizon to give Jane any perspective as to where they were. For all she knew, they could still be five miles up or just feet away from slamming into the dirt.
Just when Jane was convinced that they still had a distance to go, she felt her head crunch down on her neck as the shuttle landed with a jolt.
“Wear your earbuds, everyone. I want to know where you are at all times,” Evelyn announced over the intercom.
Marcus had already clicked himself out of the seat belt and was standing as Tate and Jane inexpertly wrestled with their clasps. Checking that his pistol was loaded, he tucked it into the holster in the back of his belt.
Tate and Jane finally got lose, and hustled after Marcus, who had already headed to the shuttle door and was watching it lower the final few feet to the hard-packed dirt below.
Jane peered into the darkness. Because the nighttime curfew was still in force, everything was dark, save a few emergency lights flickering tiredly. The outlines of the buildings were barely visible against the black backdrop of sky, and if it hadn’t been for the orange glow of the steel mill’s furnaces far off, even they wouldn’t be visible. From what little Jane could see, Evelyn had landed the shuttle in a field at least five hundred yards away from the church and the orphanage.
Marcus swung himself down to the dirt without bothering to touch the steps, and Jane followed with Tate close behind. They all began jogging toward the buildings, and though they weren’t running flat out, Jane couldn’t help but feel like she was assaulting the prison all over again.
It only took a minute for Jane to start wishing she had her night-vision glasses, feeling like she was in danger of tripping over something, given the low light. As they quickly moved closer, she felt uneasy. It was one thing to see Ironhead in the daylight. It was an industrial town—gritty and hard. At night, however, it almost seemed past dead, like a body exhaling its last breath after a life laboring in a coal mine.
Moving through the playground, they continued across the darkened street and around the side of the church building to a blocky wooden door.
Tate reached down and started wiggling on a brick just above the concrete stoop. Pulling it loose, he reached in and removed the large iron key hidden beneath.
“All the children should be in their rooms on the third floor,” Tate said, turning the old key in the lock and pushing the door open. “We have to make sure we get all of them out of here—all seven.”
“I still can’t believe you’re adopting seven kids, Jane,” Marcus said. “Not trying to make you uncomfortable, but I hope you know—you’re a pretty remarkable person for doing this.”
“Thanks, Marcus,” Jane replied, feeling modestly less disgusted with herself and with him at the compliment, still not sure if adopting seven kids at once made her remarkable or crazy.
Tate clicked on the light. The air of the old building tasted stale from the cool night. The three stole down the hallway, over the well-worn tiles, which may have once had a pattern but now were merely ceramic plates cemented to the floor. In seconds, they came to the stairwell and followed the crumbling rubber treads and once-painted cold metal handrail up to the third floor.
“I’ll go in and wake the children,” Tate said, quietly turning on the light as they stepped onto the landing. “Just wait here. I don’t want them to be scared.”
Jane watched as Tate opened one of the few doors on the floor, quietly peering around the edge into the dark room, almost as if he really was their father checking up on them before heading to bed himself. Slipping inside, Jane could hear faint whispers and the creaking of old bedsprings as Tate woke the children, and then heard the pattering of tiny feet on the hard floor.
Jane realized she was holding her breath. What do I say …? What am I doing? She wondered. “How am I going to take care of these kids?” she mumbled, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest.
Now terrified, and beginning to regret her decision, Jane froze and wondered if she could bolt down the stairs without anyone noticing. Just then, a very small girl with crazy curly hair and big wondering eyes came through the door. She couldn’t have been more than three. Just the hint of her belly was pressing against the front of her pajamas, which were a touch too small, and which had obviously been handed down by numerous children before her. She stepped sleepily toward Jane, clutching a well-loved stuffed dog with long floppy ears that was missing most of the fur around its neck. The little girl stopped in front of Jane and looked up at her, the girl’s large eyes getting larger as she woke up a little more.
“Father said I can bring Millie,” the girl said, yawning.
Jane smiled and knelt. “Yes, I think that’s a good idea. My name is Jane.”
“Are you going to take care of us now?”
Jane looked into the girl’s eyes, and whatever fears she had immediately melted away.
“Yes … I am,” Jane replied, and before she had a chance to ask her name, the girl hugged her around the neck, with Millie the stuffed dog dangling down her back.
Surprised, and relieved, Jane hugged the girl back as another girl emerged from the dark room with Tate close behind. He had an unsettled look on his face.
Jane stood, lifting the girl with her, not wanting to pull her out of her hug just then.
“What’s the matter, Tate?” Jane asked.
“It seems Mary and Joseph aren’t in their beds.”
“Mary and Joseph?” Jane said with a raised eyeb
row.
“Yes, Jane, I know. This is an orphanage run by Catholic priests—Sarah thinks they may be down in the narthex.”
“They’re worried about Father,” the girl said. “They wanted to watch for him to come back.”
Jane’s heart skipped a beat at the sincerity of the girl’s sentiments.
“I’ll go find them,” Jane replied.
Jane pulled the little girl away from her neck.
“I’m going to find Mary and Joseph. This is my friend Marcus,” Jane added, nodding over her shoulder. “He’s big and strong, but he tends to wander off. Can you hold his hand so he doesn’t get lost?”
The little girl smiled and nodded as Jane handed her to Marcus, who was also smiling and shaking his head in amusement.
“I’ll go get the other kids,” Tate said, seemingly relieved, as he disappeared into another bedroom.
A second later, Jane was through the door, taking the steps down two at a time. Reaching the ground floor, she ducked into the hallway, happened to glance toward the blocky wooden door they had entered through, and was immediately startled to see a little girl standing there. Her shoulders were hunched just a bit, with her back to Jane, closing the door behind her as if she were trying to sneak into the building.
“Oh,” Jane blurted, causing the girl to spin around nervously. “You must be Mary.”
The girl said nothing, her eyes wide and obviously unsure what she should do next.
Jane smiled at her, trying to provide some reassurance that she was friendly.
“I’m Father Tate’s sister, Jane,” she added, looking the girl up and down but not walking any closer for fear of having her scurry off.
The girl still said nothing, and Jane couldn’t help but stare. Her short blond hair hung down just to her shoulders and was as straight and flaxen as threads of a spider’s silk. She was thin—maybe too thin, Jane thought—and her well-fitting jeans and sweatshirt only accentuated that fact. Jane figured the girl was maybe eight or nine, and in the moment, it struck her that the girl probably looked a lot like she had as a girl of eight or nine.
A little unnerved at the silence, and unable to really put her finger on why, Jane fidgeted in her spot, tucking her hands in her pockets.
“Is everything okay?” Jane asked.
The girl remained quiet, though she didn’t seem like she was preparing to run. Still, the more time that passed, the more Jane realized something wasn’t right, and she began to worry that someone might be lurking elsewhere in the darkness.
Then it hit her—what seemed a little off about the girl. It was her clothes. They looked brand new. They weren’t dirty and faded, and even her hair looked clean in a way the rest of the orphans’ hair didn’t. The girl looked like she had spent the night at a spa, not on a rickety old cot in hand-me-down clothes—perhaps that’s why she reminds me of me, Jane thought, less worried about a mugger in the darkness now, but still looking around to make sure.
Jane pulled her hands out of her pockets and put them squarely on her hips.
“Who are you?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”
The girl relaxed and stood straight.
“It’s me, Jane—I’m Evelyn.”
HEROINE
Jane jerked her head back in surprise, completely speechless. A moment passed, and she opened her mouth.
“What? What are you—who are—how—what?” was all she managed to say.
The girl giggled. “Really, Jane, it’s me,” Evelyn reassured her, taking a tentative step in her direction.
“How is that possible?”
“Well, that’s a longer story than we have time for.”
“But—you’re real? You’re a kid? You’re a little girl?”
“Well, of course I’m real, Jane, and once again, even the smallest details aren’t lost on you.”
Jane crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow indignantly. “A little less sass, please,” Jane countered.
Evelyn walked up close, smiling, and looked up at Jane.
“It really is you,” Jane said, reaching out to brush Evelyn’s hair back, gently touching her ear with her fingers. “Well, wait a minute here. Are you … human?” Jane asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.
“Mostly … well, sort of … I guess. I don’t really know … I suppose it depends on how you define being human,” Evelyn said, stroking her chin.
Jane’s mind swirled with questions, and she stared, amazed at the girl she saw before her, but her amazement quickly turned to suspicion not a second later.
“What are you doing here? Why are you here, Evelyn?”
Evelyn got an I-just-got-caught look on her face. “I stowed away on the shuttle. I … we’re leaving Earth—maybe forever—and I never had the chance to see any of it … with my own eyes, I mean.”
“You have eyes,” Jane said, still astonished that Evelyn was standing before her.
“Yes, I do. I really wanted to see the chapel—for myself, I mean. I thought it might help me understand why Tate wants to stay behind.”
“I can understand that, Evelyn. It makes more sense than you may realize. But it’s incredibly dangerous for you to be here.”
“Do you appreciate the irony of this conversation, Jane?” Evelyn said, smirking and crossing her arms.
“Never mind that, Evelyn; I’m not letting you out of my sight,” Jane said, taking Evelyn by the hand and walking quickly toward the narthex. “Come on—we need to find Mary and Joseph.”
“In the manger?” Evelyn added, giggling.
“Smart joke for a kid,” Jane said.
“Yeah, well, I am basically the smartest kid in the world,” Evelyn replied, and then stopped short in the dark hallway.
Jane turned to see a concerned look on Evelyn’s face.
“What is it?” Jane asked. “Is everything okay?”
“Jane, I should have seen this coming! I’m still monitoring government communications—they’ve called in troops from the local base. They’re sending in troops, Jane. They’ll be here in minutes.”
“Evelyn—we have to get the kids out of here!”
Jane took off running down the hallway, pulling Evelyn behind her. “Tell Marcus and Tate they have to hurry.”
“I already did, Jane,” Evelyn said, trying to keep up. “They’re on their way down the stairs with the children. They’re coming to us.”
Nearly busting through two doors, and yanking on Evelyn’s arm like it was the string of a kite, Jane entered the narthex.
“Mary!” Jane called out, searching for a light switch with one hand while holding Evelyn’s with the other. “Joseph!”
Still in the dark, Jane saw some movement from across the room. A head popped up—a little black silhouette against a window with minimal natural light coming through from outside.
“Mary. Joseph. Please tell me you’re here. It’s Jane—Father Tate’s sister. Please come out if you’re here.”
“I’m here,” came the voice of a boy, who sat up in front of the window.
Jane pulled Evelyn, feeling her way through in the dark. “Joseph, is that you?”
“Yes, miss.”
“Where’s Mary?”
“I don’t know. I fell asleep. She was here before.”
Jane was nearly across the room, almost to the boy, when she heard voices behind her, and the click of the lights as they came on.
There before her, sitting on the sill in front of the window, was the boy who had been so polite to her when they had met before, sleepy eyed and spacey but working to stand up with what seemed like an enormous effort for a boy his age.
“Father!” the boy said, looking beyond Jane to the door she had come through. “You’re back!”
Turning quickly, Jane saw that her brother and Marcus had both entered the room with the two little girls from upstairs.
“I am, Joseph,” Tate replied.
No sooner had he opened his mouth than Joseph wrapped him in a hug, having ambled
as quickly as he could across the room. “It’s so good to see you … I’ve missed you very much,” Tate added.
“Tate, Mary is missing,” Jane said, interrupting her brother’s moment.
“She is? The boys are missing too,” Tate said, concerned. “Where are they, Joseph—do you know?”
“I don’t know, Father,” Joseph said with a nervous expression, like he was worried he was going to let him down. “I found Mary on the floor outside your room last night. She was waiting for you to come home. Maybe she’s up there,” he added, shrugging his shoulders. “Tommy, Joey, and Mitch might be up there too, but they have been staying with Mitch’s big brother on the streets since you’ve been gone. I don’t think they’re around.”
“Thanks, Joseph, I’ll go see if—”
“No, Tate,” Marcus interrupted. “I’ll go get Mary, and I’ll see if the boys are up there too. You and Jane need to make sure these three get to the shuttle.”
Without another word, Marcus had disappeared down the hallway, a sign labeling it as the way to the rectory.
Tate looked at his kids.
“Children, we don’t have much time. Remember when I said there would come a time when I would have to leave you and when you would go to live with my sister?”
The children all nodded, and Jane couldn’t believe her ears—Tate really had known all along what she would choose to do.
“Well, that time has come. We need to move quickly to the shuttle outside, and we won’t have time for lots of goodbyes, so I’ll say goodbye now.”
Tate knelt in front of his children and with a tear in his eye, held out his arms.
The three children squeezed in, some with sniffles and others starting to tear.
“I want you to know that I love you all very much,” Tate said, his voice muffled in the children’s clothing. “Promise me you will all take good care of my sister, okay?”
Jane couldn’t help but blink, trying to keep her eyes from tearing, though she kept silent in the background.
“We really have to go, Jane,” Evelyn said hurriedly, breaking the tenderness of the moment.
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