“Harlan,” Rickards said, “How would you feel about taking a trip out to Wikieup?”
29
The daily showdown was underway and it was proving to be of epic proportions. Neither side would give an inch and the tension between the two adversaries was reaching the point of no return. Neither party moved
. Narrow-eyed green glare met hostile yellow stare. The hot, humid breeze that lifted then died went ignored by both antagonists, so intent was their focus on each other. It seemed that the entire barnyard stood still, waiting for the next move in this battle of titans.
Maggie had the advantage in height and reach, as well apparently possessing the greater degree of intelligence. Her opponent, the advantage in speed and agility. Both knew how this conflict had ended on days past, but that didn’t affect either’s determination to be the victor on this occasion. Minutes passed as each sized the other up, waiting for him or her to lose focus just for a second.
Maggie shifted her weight subtly, moving her broom handle from left hand to right. Her stare narrowed even more as she studied the rooster in front of her, looking for an opening that would allow her to move past him, unassaulted, and gain admittance to the hen house. Houdini’s focus was unwavering. If she could just manage to...
“Mom? Mom, where are you?” The call came from the house, distracting Maggie for just a second. A second was all it took, however. Houdini saw his opening and came flying at Maggie’s legs, spurs outstretched, beating his wings against her shins and emitting strident shrieks the entire time.
“Dammit you animated Sunday dinner, get the hell away from me!” Maggie jumped back, tripped and flailed wildly with her broomstick catching the rooster along his left side and sending him flying five feet away in a cloud of dust. Before Maggie could regain her balance and make a run for the hen house, however, Houdini recovered and once more entered the fray.
This contest ended the same way it had for most of the past week, with Maggie finally admitting defeat and retreating from Houdini’s territory while the rooster strutted belligerently back and forth across the front of his yard, stopping here and there to scratch aggressively at the dirt. All the while he maintained a cold yellow-eyed stare on the woman against whom he’d declared war.
“Mom? Where are... Oh.” Mark came around the corner of the barn, Lindy, Gypsy and Jack tailing along behind. “Do you want me to get the eggs? Houdini doesn’t mind me going into the hen house.”
Maggie shot Mark the narrow-eyed green glare that had so lately failed to impress Houdini. It had an equally unimpressive effect on her progeny since Mark started to laugh. It was true, though. Sometime during the past week Houdini had decided that Maggie was public enemy number one, while Mark could wander through the chicken yard without molestation. Even Lindy was able to toddle into the hen house and take eggs out from under the residents, while Houdini followed her about with a slavish devotion.
“Fine, you get the eggs.” Maggie thrust out the bucket she’d been carrying over her right arm. “But if that rooster doesn’t get his act together real quick, we’re going to be meeting over the stew pot.”
Houdini let out a cackle and ruffled his feathers, obviously disputing her statement.
Maggie headed across the open ground toward the house with the intention of getting something to drink and contemplating the joys of a chicken dinner. Just as she was walking up the slope toward the front door she heard the dogs begin to bark and a jolt of adrenaline shot through her body.
It had been over a week since O’Reilly left, and even though she tried to deny it to herself, she was becoming more and more worried at his delayed return. She kept telling herself that he’d said he might be gone up to a week and a half, depending on what he found, and she knew the weather would have made traveling much more difficult, but that was her head speaking. Her heart insisted on saying he was gone too long.
Turning back from the house, she headed toward the entrance to the canyon, following in the dogs’ wake, trying to determine whether she could hear the hollow sound of hoofs on rock or the creak of the saddle leather.
Just as she’d decided that the dogs had sounded a false alarm, she heard the echo of voices. She stopped suddenly, and turned to look for Mark and Lindy. If it were O’Reilly coming down the canyon, he should be alone. She shouldn’t be hearing voices.
Mark was coming around the side of the barn, carrying the egg bucket, eager to see where the commotion was coming from. Maggie quickly started toward him, motioning him to turn around, to get out of sight. Apparently her signals were slightly less than clear, since Mark continued to stand there, a confused expression on his face. Then his look focused on something behind Maggie’s left shoulder, and he raised his right arm and began waving, excited.
“O’Reilly, you’re back!”
Maggie whipped back around in time to see O’Reilly heading out from behind the last boulder, leading his pack horses. He looked up in the direction of Mark’s call, then back toward Maggie, their eyes meeting. A grin spread across his face. Probably at the look of shock on hers, she thought sourly. Her heart was still racing, and she wasn’t inclined to be charitable when considering his intentions.
Moving closer, O’Reilly lifted his left hand in greeting. “Honey, I’m home,” he called out, a laugh in his voice. “And I’ve brought guests for dinner,” he added, glancing back over his shoulder. Following the direction of his eyes she was just in time to see a group of strange horses round the boulder, and on them, four children; two girls and two boys.
Maggie felt as if she’d been nailed to the ground and her mind had turned to sludge. In spite of the evidence before her eyes, it took a moment for her to understand what it was she was seeing. Four more children. She craned her neck to see if anyone else was going to emerge from behind the boulder. For a brief moment she wondered if O’Reilly was some sort of pied piper who collected children every time he ventured out, and whether the entire town of Wikieup was going to be following behind him, listening to his tune.
Riding up beside her, O’Reilly stopped his horse and looked down at her shocked face, the grin on his features relaxing into a softer smile.
“I found them in Wikieup. There was no way I could leave them behind or send them back to the APZ, so here we all are.” He looked back at the children where they’d stopped their horses, watching Maggie. His grin reemerged “Can we keep them, pleeease?”
There was a brown haired girl about fourteen or fifteen, another girl of about the same age, but appearing to be either Indian or Mexican, and two boys around Mark’s age. All four sat quietly on their horses, as if waiting for an indication that it was okay for them to come closer.
Maggie looked up at O’Reilly, eyes narrowing. She was getting good at that expression, she thought.
“I am so never letting you do the shopping again,” she murmured to him, then turning to the children lifted her right arm, beckoning them forward. “Come on in. You must be exhausted. Let’s get your horses unsaddled and get you something to drink.”
An hour later all the horses had been unpacked, unsaddled and turned into the pasture. The bundles still sat piled in the barnyard, and would need to be moved before the afternoon’s rainstorm washed them into the next county. For now, however, the sky was blue and the group of eight sat in the shade outside the house, enjoying tepid sodas from the provisions that O’Reilly brought back from Wikieup.
Watching Christina talking animatedly with Mark, telling him about their adventures at the APZ, and the struggle to get to Wikieup, Maggie was amazed with the ingenuity of the children as well as the stupidity of the authorities who felt that they could control people’s lives in this manner.
She remembered back to that night a month ago when O’Reilly bared his past, at least as far as the APZ was concerned. She recalled the emotion with which he’d spoken of Christina, his obvious connection with her, and his refusal to bring her into what he considered to be an unacceptable danger.
After meeting Christina, Maggie wondered at O’Reilly’s belief that Christina would simply learn to “play the game” adapt and get by in the APZ. After twenty minutes of talking with the girl Maggie could have told him that this young woman would do no such thing. Christina Craigson might break, but she wouldn’t be one to bend easily, especially if she felt that bending would require her to do something she felt was wrong.
Maggie had a more difficult time reading Alysa Thalman. She was very quiet and reserved, watching everything, but seldom voicing an opinion. When Maggie was first introduced to her, she had the impression that Alysa was a bit slow; a follower who needed to be told what to do. Quickly, however, she became aware of the level of respect the other three children afforded Alysa and realized that the girl’s silence and meek manner secreted a quick mind and the ability to plan and make decisions. The two girls together would be a powerful team.
Maggie smiled to herself. O’Reilly was seriously going to have to get over underestimating the females in his life if Christina and Alysa were anything to go by.
The two boys reminded her of Mark at that age. They had obviously seen some terrible things, which affected them deeply. However, they seemed to view everything that was happening now as a great adventure. When Mark described to them the cave hideout, Nick and Ryan were immediately ready to set out to see this new treat. Occasionally Maggie would catch the two of them in some private communion that no one else was privilege to, but she chalked that up to being twins. They obviously made each other stronger.
“Well, guys,” Maggie said, pushing herself to her feet. “We need to get the provisions inside and unpacked, and then we need to figure out sleeping arrangements. Mark, you, Ryan and Nick are going to move into the empty bunks in O’Reilly’s room.”
At O’Reilly’s startled look Maggie held up a hand, telling him to wait. “Alysa and Christina, you’re going to take the middle room, and Lindy and I will continue in my room.”
“Why can’t Nick and Ryan share my room, instead of all of us moving to O’Reilly’s room?” Mark asked.
“Yeah, why?” echoed O’Reilly.
“Easy. O’Reilly’s room is where all the extra bunk beds are. There’s only one bed in my room, so there’s no room for the girls. Lindy has her makeshift bed, which will last her a little longer.” O’Reilly opened his mouth to start to argue, but again Maggie held up her hand. “Mark’s room has a double bunk and O’Reilly’s room has two double bunks. That’s four beds in O’Reilly’s room and four males to fill them.”
“Okay, but I get top bunk!” called out Mark. “Hey, O’Reilly, looks like you and I are going to be roomies. You don’t mind me taking the top bunk do you? Nick and Ryan can take the other bed.”
O’Reilly looked like he very much would like to object to the plan, but one look at Maggie changed his mind.
“Don’t worry, O’Reilly,” said Maggie looking down at him laughingly. “It’s only a temporary situation.”
“And why is that, may I ask?” O’Reilly said with a slightly sarcastic note in his voice.
“Because tomorrow you and this crew of tough men here are going to start building an addition to the house. There’s plenty of room under the rock overhang, and a fair amount of extra lumber in the barn, so it should be a piece of cake, right?”
“Can’t argue with the lady,” O’Reilly said to no one in particular, pushing himself to his feet. “Come on troops, we’d better get the packs inside and stored before the boss gets her tail in a twist.” O’Reilly headed back toward the barn with the children in tow. Maggie stood watching him, a slight smile playing around her lips and eyes.
That night, after all the children had gone to bed, Maggie and O’Reilly sat out on the flat area immediately in front of the house that Maggie always referred to as the patio to O’Reilly’s amusement. Rainstorms earlier that afternoon had cooled the air, leaving it fresh and clean smelling.
The newly expanded group had spent most of the afternoon unpacking and rearranging rooms. The children had come with pitifully few possessions, and Maggie was concerned that, with the rate Mark and Lindy were growing, in addition to four new children, they would soon be stretched hard to keep them all clothed. A seamstress she was not. The one time she’d tried to make Mark an outfit when he was a baby, she wound up with a creation replete with no neck hole and three arm holes. If they relied on her for their sartorial needs, things could get ugly fast.
Fortunately Christina was about her size, and Alysa a bit smaller, so some of the things that O’Reilly had picked up for Maggie would also fit the girls, at least for awhile. Meanwhile, Nick and Ryan could wear some of Mark’s hand-me-downs. The prospect of a couture calamity was not yet imminent.
The breeze lifted, picking up tendrils of Maggie’s hair. A stray lock, led by the wind, tickled O’Reilly’s cheek as he sat next to her. Lifting his right hand he took the long strand, and turning, tucked it behind her ear.
Maggie momentarily stiffened at his touch, then relaxed again at its gentleness.
The silence grew longer and Maggie’s eyes started to droop with weariness. Then O’Reilly’s husky, gravely voice broke the spell.
“Are you angry about the children?”
“Angry? No, not angry. I’m worried a bit. How are we ever going to keep eight of us fed and clothed? I’m scared, I guess, but not angry. You couldn’t have done anything else.”
“There’s something else you need to know, though.”
A small jolt of adrenaline shot into her blood stream. “Why is it whenever you tell me there’s something else I need to know, it’s never a good thing?”
“Not always.”
“Yes, always. Do you want me to list them?”
“No, I get it. I guess this might fall into that category, too. Did I ever mention to you that they were implanting all the residents of the APZs with microchips.”
“Microchips? You mean like the identification chips they put in dogs so that they don’t get lost, or rather so that they get found when they do get lost?”
“Yes, that kind, only with more information on them than the chips they implant into the dogs. These chips have your name, an identification number, your medical information, that type of thing.” His voice had taken on a flat tone that caused more adrenaline to course into Maggie’s blood stream. “The authorities said it was so they could track who was getting what, and making sure that no one was taking more than his share, you know, of food and clothing and things like that.”
“It makes sense, I guess. With all the shortages of goods until they’re able to get the food production reestablished and factories up and running, the government is going to need to be sure than no one is hoarding. I don’t really like the idea of being implanted like a dog or a cat, but it would work, I suppose.”
“Yes, it works. The thing they don’t tell the residents is that each chip contains a GPS tracer, so that a satellite can track anyone, anywhere on the planet.”
“I’m already not liking where this is going,” Maggie said with an appalled expression. “I know you better than to think you brought the children here with those chips still in them. What is it you’re trying to say?”
“I don’t know how the children made it to Wikieup without being picked up. I know the techies were having problems with the tracking software before I left. The sudden demands on the system following the concentration overwhelmed it. I hope that I got the chips out before anyone got a fix on them, but there are no guarantees.”
“See, I told you. Never a good thing. Next time you tell me there’s something I ought to know, can’t it be something like ‘dinner’s ready’ or ‘I’ve left you a million dollars in my will.’”
“I’ll see what I can come up with,” O’Reilly said with a unfamiliar note in his voice. “I’m sure there’ll be something.”
“So,” Maggie continued, suppressing an internal quiver of fear, “What’s the upshot? How much has this increased our danger?”
�
��I took the chips out of their arms soon after I met them. Then we destroyed the chips, so the furthest they can be traced is to Wikieup. Closer than I’d like, but no closer than the annihilation teams will be when they destroy the town. The rains would have washed out our tracks by now, so as far as they know the children could have headed in any direction from there.”
O’Reilly turned his arm over in his lap, rubbing his finger lightly along the small white scar on his wrist.
“What concerns me more is that a captain in the Enforcers, Seth Rickards, connected me with Christina. He was questioning her about where I might be before she escaped. If they’re able to track her to Wikieup, then he’ll suspect that I’m nearby.”
“What kind of guy is Rickards?”
“If you’re on the force, he’s someone you want at your back. If you’re doing something you’re not supposed to do, he’s the guy you don’t want tracking you down. He’ll have seen my escape as a betrayal to the Enforcers and to the country. He’ll know that I have information that could hurt the government, and he won’t stop at anything to get me back.”
“Okay, not great, but not terrible either.”
“I wasn’t sure what to do when I found the children, and if you say so, I’ll take them and we’ll leave. We’ll go far away from here, maybe drop some clues so that Rickards doesn’t look in this direction. I couldn’t just disappear, though, and leave you wondering what happened to me.”
“Yeah, that would have been a lousy thing to do. Not to mention the fact that we still don’t have adequate skills to make a living out here.” Maggie was quiet for a moment then suddenly said, “There’s something you ought to know.”
A snort of laughter escaped O’Reilly, and he turned to look at her, a grin stretching his tanned face white teeth flashing in the gloom. “Does this fall into the ‘dinner’s ready’ variety, or the ‘boogey man’s hiding in the closet’ variety?”
Gone to Ground Page 25