by Amira Rain
Still exhausted from labor and delivery two days earlier, I slept for a few hours, and Sam didn’t even wake me to eat once. I finally woke up when I heard Ballpoint Pen Man’s gruff voice.
“Wake up, kid. We’re here.”
CHAPTER SIX
It turned out that the chief wasn’t even currently in Greenwood. When Ballpoint Pen Man dropped Sam and me off in front of an enormous log cabin house flanked by tall, moonlit trees, wishing me luck, two women were waiting to help me with Sam and our luggage, and one of them soon apologized that “Chief Alexander” wasn’t home to greet us.
“Right now, he’s in the direction you just came from, in the FDS, unfortunately.” The woman, who’d introduced herself as Mary, paused to give her head a little shake, frowning, before continuing, as if it were actually a bad thing that her violent, human trafficker of a leader wasn’t home to greet me.
“Several packs of the magical Graywolves headed south a few hours ago, probably intending to cause trouble for the people in the FDS, so the chief and some of his men went down there to help Commander Iverson deal with things. They might not be back for a few days.”
I wasn’t disappointed one tiny bit. A few days to bond with my precious newborn in peace before her possibly-psychopathic father got home sounded just fine to me. Not wanting to be rude, obviously, I didn’t say this to Mary, or the other woman, Pam, but I did say it was “more than fine” that Chief Alexander wasn’t home, and I said this pretty coolly.
Being the victim of a kidnapping orchestrated by him, I had no intention of pretending that I was eager to meet him, and I also had no intention of becoming friends with anyone who acted like he was a “good man,” which included Mary and Pam.
Because it was dark, I couldn’t see much of the exterior of the enormous log cabin house, but, somewhat to my surprise, the interior was lovely: all honey-colored wood-plank flooring, overstuffed, comfortable-looking furniture, and rustic décor that fit a log cabin home perfectly.
Despite being very spacious, with large kitchen, dining area, living room, and enormous bathroom on the ground floor, and no fewer than five large bedrooms, three of them master bedrooms with bathrooms, on the second floor, the house actually had a cozy sort of feel that I liked.
Mary and Pam gave me a brief tour, ending it in the master bedroom that was to be mine, which was next to a room that was to be Sam’s nursery.
After placing my suitcase next to my king-sized bed, which had a beautiful headboard made of rough-hewn, polished, honey-colored logs, Mary gestured to a door on the opposite side of the room. “We had a few days’ advance notice that you were coming, so we filled your closet with new clothes in your size, and shoes, and things like that, and there’s a big box of toiletry items in your master bathroom. The closet in the nursery is also full of clothes, and diapers, and other things for little the baby girl.”
Again speaking with what I knew was a little note of coolness in my voice, I said thank you. “I think we should be all set, then.”
Taking my hint that I wanted the tour to be over and to be left in peace, Mary said she and Pam would now leave us to get some rest. Smiling, she then looked at tiny Sam, who was fast asleep in my arms. “She really is a beautiful baby… and she looks so very much like her father. It’s almost uncanny.”
I was sure I frowned, but I might have even glared at Mary, too, because her eyes suddenly got wide and she even took the tiniest of steps back.
“Oh, not that she doesn’t look like you, too. She does. She really, really does.”
Making the faintest of snorts, I looked from Mary to Sam and back to Mary. “I know she looks nothing like me, and I really don’t care if she resembles her father. I think she’s perfect and beautiful anyway. Hopefully, she’ll have my morals and values, and not his.”
Both looking a bit anxious, Mary and Pam exchanged glances, and Mary then spoke while knitting her pale gray brows. “We’ve heard that you didn’t really have much of a choice to come here, but—”
“I had none. I had zero choice. It was either I come here or have my family members hurt and maybe even killed, courtesy of the mob man who transported me here. I had zero choice to come here. So, please… don’t pretend like I did. Don’t pretend that I’m anything other than the victim of a kidnapping ordered by your chief. It’s insulting.”
Now I was sure I was glaring. I was fully intending to.
Knitting her brows even closer together, Mary apologized. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’m sorry, really. To tell you the truth, Pam and I don’t really know what Chief Alexander is thinking, or what made him order that you be brought here after the previous arrangements seemed to have been set in stone. For all this mystery, though, we do know that the chief is a very good—”
“No. Please don’t. If you’re going to say that Chief Alexander is a ‘very good man,’ you’re going to have to spare me. I heard that half the way up here, and I don’t believe it, nor do I think this misconception about him should be perpetuated. Any man who orders that a woman be abducted is not a good man. Period.
Any man who blindsides a woman by going back on a previously set-in-stone agreement about a baby is not a good man. I know all this for sure. So, like I said, you’re going to have to spare me. No one can convince me that Chief Alexander is a ‘good man.’ And frankly, I have some doubt about the goodness of any people who’d follow a criminal leader like him.”
Obviously, I’d insulted Mary and Pam right to their faces, and part of me didn’t feel great about this. I didn’t like insulting people, and I didn’t like being unkind. However, at the same time, I kind of didn’t feel bad about what I’d said, because it had been the complete truth.
While Mary and Pam frowned, I continued. “I’ll stay in this house, in this town, or state, or whatever it is, until Chief Alexander comes home, because clearly, I don’t have a choice. Clearly, I’m a prisoner. But—”
“No, no, it’s not like that.” Mary had been shaking her head, and she now shook it once more, seemingly just for added emphasis. “It’s really not like that. Chief Alexander says you’re free to come and go wherever you’d like. You can go out and take walks on our little hiking trails around the town; you can visit the outdoor skating rink in the woods; you can go out to all our little shops and stores in town; and—”
“But can I leave town, Mary? Can I just take off and go right back home tomorrow morning? Am I ‘free to come and go’ like that?”
Still knitting her brows, Mary glanced at Pam but didn’t say anything, answering my question.
Satisfied I’d made my point, I continued. “I’ll stay here until Chief Alexander returns, because as a prisoner, clearly I have no choice. However, I have zero interest in making friends with any of his ‘people,’ which I guess is probably everyone in town. And you two can tell everyone in town I said that. Anyone who would follow a human trafficker of a leader isn’t anyone I want around my daughter.”
Looking visibly hurt, which made my heart hurt a bit for some reason, even though I’d meant what I said, Mary said okay. “I understand. You just… well, maybe you just need some time to warm up to everyone in town; that’s all.”
Sam had woken up and had started fussing, and I rocked her in my arms, shushing her, completely ignoring Mary.
And after a few moments, she quietly said she and Pam would leave Sam and me to rest. “We’ve left our phone numbers on a piece of paper on the fridge, though, in case you need anything, and we wrote the number of one of our town doctors on there, too.
Please feel free to call any of us day or night. Your own phone will still work here in Greenwood; you’ll just need to dial 323 before Greenwood calls, and 1 before calling the States, if you want to call your family or friends.
Pam or I will be back to check on you and Sam tomorrow, and maybe one of us will come every couple of days to bring you groceries so that you don’t have to bring Sam out in the cold to go to the store.”
Quietly, gaze on Sam, I said thank you, and Mary and Pam soon left.
Chief Alexander didn’t come back the next day, or the next, or the next. Mary reported that the several packs of escaped “magical Graywolves,” whoever they were, had somehow managed to flee through FDS territory, cross the bridge, and make their way into Michigan, where they were attacking people and wreaking all sorts of havoc in cities and towns on the western side of the state.
One of the packs had even made it to northern Illinois. According to Mary, the United States government had begged Chief Alexander and some of his men to hunt the wolf packs down and kill them, and Chief Alexander had agreed, wanting to solidify good relations between Greenwood and the US. Mary said it was hard to tell how long chasing down all the wolf packs might take, but that it could be months.
I wasn’t disappointed in any way, shape, or form. In fact, I was downright jubilant. Although I hated the thought of the Graywolves hurting people in the States, I actually thanked my lucky stars that they required chasing, giving me months to spend with my precious baby in peace before her father got home.
She and I quickly settled into life in Greenwood. Although really, we more like just settled into life at the chief’s large log cabin home in Greenwood, because during the month of January, we didn’t even leave. We spent our days snuggling, napping, watching movies, and playing. We also made frequent calls to Sam’s uncles, who, to my great relief, all seemed to be doing well under Kevin’s household direction.
At least once a day, I bundled Sam up from head to toe, with a knitted scarf covering her face up to her eyes, and took her out for walks in the vast, tree-filled backyard. Holding her in my arms, I crunched through the foot-high snow in my boots, quietly telling her the names of different trees and shrubs. Proving to be an exceptionally happy, easy baby who usually only cried if she was hungry or needed a diaper change, she looked up at the trees, eyes wide, and she cooed softly whenever I told her a name, as if she was genuinely happy to be learning, which never failed to melt my heart.
One day in late January, when we’d just come inside from one of these walks, Mary arrived with a bagful of groceries while I was un-bundling Sam in the kitchen. And that was when a strange thing happened, although strange didn’t even quite cover it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I’d taken Sam’s snowsuit off, and as I pulled her pink knitted hat off her head, she seemed to reflexively grab for it, which wasn’t odd, because she liked to grab for things. But what was odd was that while she grabbed, the tiniest, shimmery little white spark things seemed to actually come from her fingertips and dance around them. Literally not believing my eyes, I blinked once, then twice, but the tiny little sparks remained, seeming to be actually flowing, if that was even the right word, from Sam’s tiny fingers.
Startling Sam and me both, Mary dropped a bagful of oranges, which hit the floor with a thump. “Well, I’ll be darned! She’s got the magic!”
Alarmed, and concerned about Sam’s health and safety, to say the least, I whipped my face from to her Mary. “What does that mean? Is she okay?”
Letting her breath out in a rush, Mary picked up the oranges and set them on the island in the middle of the kitchen, which I was standing next to with Sam in my arms. “Oh, don’t worry; she’s just fine. She’s more than fine. She’s one of the Magicals, as we call them. She just startled the heck out of me for a second, was all. She’s actually only the second Magical I’ve ever seen in my life. We don’t have any others here in Greenwood.”
Looking at her tiny little fingers, which were still surrounded by shimmery white sparks, Sam cooed, clearly finding her special power pretty interesting.
After smiling at her, even though I was still I little concerned, I shifted my gaze to Mary. “Well, what is a ‘Magical’?”
“Oh they’re daughters born to shifters, daughters who display that little ‘sparkling fingertip’ trick. They’re very, very rare. I think they only have maybe a dozen or so in all the FDS. One of them is a six-year-old little girl who’s grown to be able to do the little sparkling trick at will, and levitate objects while she does it.
Another little girl, one a little younger, discovered by accident that she can ‘zap’ people with her sparkling trick, shooting beams of light at them that give them a little electrical jolt. I’ll bet her parents are having fun trying to control that little ‘gift.’”
“So… maybe Sam will be able to levitate and ‘zap’ when she gets a little older, too?”
“Hard to tell, because these Magical girls are all so young, and most of them are still in their ‘sparkling fingertips’ stage like our little missy, here, but I’d say, yes, probably. It seems that these special little girls might all grow to be sorceresses or something like that. Only time will tell, of course, but it definitely looks that way, based on how those two older little girls in the FDS have developed.
But at this point, it’s all so new, and no one even knows exactly why a certain tiny minority of baby girls born to shifter fathers turn out to be Magicals. The best anyone can figure, it must just be something in the fathers’ genes, which were altered when the germ weapon turned them into shifters. It might be something else entirely magical; it’s just really hard to tell. Just wait until the chief finds out that his very own daughter is a Magical, though. I bet his buttons will just be bursting!”
Since the night Sam and I had arrived in Greenwood, Mary hadn’t mentioned Chief Alexander, and now she immediately looked like she was sorry she just had.
“I… I apologize for that. I’ll just go finish putting the groceries away.”
January rolled into February, with ever-higher snowdrifts. Having begun to develop a bit of true cabin fever, being that I’d been holed up in an actual cabin, albeit an enormous one, I started having Mary give Sam and me rides to the town’s little grocery store two or three times a week, warming up to Mary slightly, but just slightly.
I still wasn’t crazy about the idea of becoming actual friends with any follower of a leader who’d ordered a woman to be kidnapped.
To pay for my purchases during these grocery store trips, I used pale green printed bills that were Greenwood’s own special currency. Mary had given me an envelope chock-full of bills, saying that it had been left for my use, although she hadn’t been specific about who had left it. She obviously hadn’t needed to be, and after thinking it over, I’d decided that I would use the bills without feeling the least bit funny about it.
After all, since Chief Alexander had ordered me kidnapped, I figured I shouldn’t feel bad in any way for making use of some of his money to feed myself while being held as a captive.
In addition to the grocery store trips, Mary also gave Sam and me rides to the wooded skating rink, where I’d sit on a wooden bench with Sam and watch all the skaters, most of them kids, with her facing forward on my lap so she could see, too. Being that the temperatures were so frigid during February, we never stayed very long, but Sam seemed to enjoy our trips out of the house, and I did, too.
During our trips to the store and rink, most other women I came across were polite and fairly friendly, offering me smiles and hellos, and some of them briefly admired Sam, telling me she was beautiful and adorable.
A few of these women also introduced themselves, and one gave me her phone number as well, telling me to call if I ever wanted to get together for coffee or lunch at the town’s lone café. Politely, I’d said I’d do that sometime, although I didn’t really mean it. I still didn’t want to become friends with anyone in town, and I was even starting to have thoughts that maybe I wouldn’t have to stay captive in the town much longer.
With all the snow that had fallen, I’d heard that most of the roads out of Greenwood and into the FDS were impassable to all but the biggest trucks with chains on the tires; but sometime in April, I knew they’d be clear. And it was then that I was having thoughts about gaining access to a vehicle and just driving myself and Sam right out of Greenwood.
&nb
sp; Then what, I had no idea. Maybe I’d try to plead my case to the commander of the FDS, telling him that I’d been kidnapped and begging him to allow me and Sam to return to the US. My plan was really still quite half-baked. But at least it was something gave me a small shred of hope.
One thing I wasn’t really worried about in regards to my half-baked plan, at least not very much, was the possibility of Ballpoint Pen Man hurting my dad or the boys if I were somehow ever able to escape Greenwood.
It just didn’t make sense anymore that he would, being that he’d completed the job Chief Alexander had enlisted him to do and had presumably already been paid for it. I figured their dealings were probably now done.
February turned into March—slightly milder, but still snowy and extremely cold. To my complete happiness, Chief Alexander remained gone. Sam continued to display her Magical girl status, with her fingertips suddenly glowing with tiny, bright floating sparks at least once or twice a week. There was of course no way to tell if she was causing it to happen on purpose now, or if it was just randomly happening, but the way she enjoyed watching the sparks, cooing and smiling, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d been trying to bring them forth.
The snowy landscape of Greenwood finally began to thaw the first week of April, and by the tenth of the month, there was hardly any snow left in the yard. Approaching the upper fifties by late afternoon, the air almost felt downright balmy, and I decided to take Sam on a little hike, putting her in a front-facing wearable baby carrier that had thick canvas straps that looped around my shoulders.
I was going to hike down a little trail that began at the edge of the woods behind the house and headed west. Mary had told me about this trail, saying that it was the only hiking trail I wasn’t ever supposed to use.
When I’d asked her why, she’d said this was because a few miles down the trail, past a place that was marked with a pile of large stones, the area was no longer heavily guarded by the chief’s shifters on regular patrol, making it dangerous territory, because the “magical Graywolves,” who I still knew next to nothing about, lived not too much farther west, just a few miles.