The Uncharted Series Omnibus

by Keely Brooke Keith

  Bethany peeled her eyes away from the mark on his chest and pointed to the clock on the bookshelf beside Lydia’s medical supply cabinet. “That says half past twelve.”

  “Your village probably calibrates with the sun. It’s actually GMT minus one here.” He stepped closer to the staircase then stopped and grinned. A bead of sweat rolled down his whiskered jaw. “I’m glad you finally came downstairs.”

  Bethany smiled back and looked at the clock on his wrist. The mechanism was as strange and foreign to her as he was. After being under the same roof for a week he should feel familiar, yet when she studied him, her mind filled with questions.

  He lifted his forearm. “Haven’t seen a watch like this before, have you?”

  When she shook her head, he turned his arm and worked a buckle on the underside of his wrist. He removed the rubber watchband and stepped close to the staircase as he held it out. She reached through the balusters to take the watch then remembered what happened the first time she touched him. When she pulled her hand back, Justin angled his head. “What’s the matter?”

  “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to get sick again.”

  “Don’t worry—that’s over. I’m completely healed. The gray leaf took care of it.” He held the watch closer and nodded when she took it. “It’s cool, huh?”

  Bethany examined the strange timepiece. The clock’s hands seemed to glow in the dim light of the room. The band was smooth and still warm from his body heat. She touched the buttons on either side of the clock’s outer ring. “What are these?”

  Justin leaned against the staircase; his face was mere inches from hers. She stared at the watch but could feel him looking at her. He reached his hand through the balusters and touched the buttons on the watch. “These two set the time and date, this is the countdown timer, and that is the backlight.” He slid the watch out of her hand.

  Bethany’s gaze followed the watch as he strapped it back around his wrist. Her eyes trailed up to the black mark on his chest. She could see more detail now that he was close: the lines of the feathers, the shield between the wings, and the anchors below the shield. “Did you draw that on yourself?”

  “No, it’s a tattoo.”

  “Oh. I’ve never seen one before. Will it wash off?”

  Justin rubbed a palm across the mark as if to prove its permanence. “No. A tattoo artist injects ink under the skin with needles.”

  “What does the symbol mean?”

  He glanced at the tattoo then kept his chin low as he looked back at her. “It’s the naval flight officer insignia.”

  Connor was a naval aviator but his skin was unmarked. Bethany asked, “Why do you have it?”

  Justin leaned against the edge of Lydia’s desk. His eyes cast downward. “I worked so hard during flight training that when I finally got my wings of gold, I swore I would never take them off. That wasn’t practical, so I figured if I got the symbol tattooed over my heart, I would never forget what mattered most to me—wings.”

  “Wings matter most to you… out of everything in life?”

  “Yes.”

  “Still? Even after what happened and not flying for three years?”

  Justin didn’t answer. Bethany followed the lines of the tattoo with her eyes. She remembered when she first met Justin and how he had laid her hand over his heart—over that mark. He had said he spent three years trying to find the Land, but now he said wings mattered more than everything. Bethany wrapped her arms around her knees. “Would you go back to flying if you could?”

  Justin looked her in the eye. “In a heartbeat.”

  “When Connor first arrived, he tried to find a way to leave the Land but couldn’t.”

  “That’s bull. There’s always a way out.”

  Bethany thought of the fierce ocean currents that ripped close to the shore of the Land. Those churning currents had taken the lives of two of her classmates when she was fifteen. The idea of another person trying to leave the Land made her feel sick. She put her hand around one of the balusters. “Are you going to try to go back to your ship?”

  “I don’t know yet.” Justin looked at the door and then back at her. He leaned close and lowered his voice. “I wanted to find this land so badly, but now that I know the cure for the disease, I want to get some of that gray leaf medicine back to my ship. A buddy of mine is sick—he may be dead by now. The other men onboard are all sick too. If I could get the medicine to them, something good could come of all this.”

  “Connor says the atmosphere keeps the Land hidden and—”

  “Hidden and impenetrable are two different things. If I got in, I can get out. But since I was unconscious when I arrived, I have no idea how far away my ship is. Connor said he took an old telescope out to the shore today and looked, but he couldn’t see anything. Maybe I’ll wire a coconut radio and try to call the ship from here.”

  “A what?”

  “Nothing.” Justin grinned. “It was a joke.”

  Bethany smiled back even though she did not understand. She liked him and felt a twinge of disappointment at the thought of him leaving, but she understood his desire to get medicine to his friends. Her finger traced the beveled line of the baluster. “Are you going to leave as soon as the quarantine is over?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “If you are going to try at all, shouldn’t you go before your friends are dead?”

  Justin crossed his arms over his bare chest. “You ask a lot of questions.”

  Bethany drew her head away from the balusters. “I’m sorry if I’m annoying. I’m just bored with being stuck in this place.”

  “Me too.” He dropped his hands to the desk and a slow grin reached his eyes. “We don’t have to be bored, you know. There are things we could do to entertain ourselves. I know one thing I’d really like to do.”

  Bethany glanced around the room then her eyes settled on a stack of the founders’ books on the desk beside Justin. “I’m tired of drawing and there is nothing else to do in here but read.” She pointed at the books. “Connor keeps bringing me books.”

  Justin’s brow furrowed. “That’s not exactly what I meant.” He chuckled. “Yeah, he keeps bringing me these old journals from your founders. He says if I’m going to live here, I need to learn about your society.”

  “Have you read any of them?”

  “Only a couple. I don’t know if it’s because these journals are a hundred years old or what, but this place seems pretty uptight. I can see why Connor likes it—he always seemed like the churchy type. He probably fit right in here, didn’t he?”

  “I guess. It seems like so long ago, but I remember at first people were suspicious of him—especially my brother Levi—but then Connor wanted to help keep the Land hidden from the outside world and everyone saw how sincerely he cared.”

  “How sincerely he cared,” Justin repeated and shook his head. He stepped away from the desk and paced the office floor then turned and ran a hand over his short hair. “Yeah, I would’ve done the same thing. I would’ve tried to keep this safe, beautiful place to myself too. Clean water, miraculous medicine, gullible women—I would’ve done the same thing. Only I wouldn’t be able to play along with all the prudish rules for as long as he has.”

  Bethany heard the change in Justin’s voice and wondered why he sounded perturbed. She tried to sense his emotions, but he gave such conflicting signals she could not read him. “I know you’ve been stuck in here for a week, but once you see the village and meet people, you will probably like it here.”

  “Bethany—” Justin rubbed the back of his neck as he slowly stepped back to the stairs. His pants were slung low on his hips and she watched the lines of his body as he moved. When he reached the stairs, he rested his forearms against the balusters and leaned close to her. “So far you are the only thing I like about this place.” He looked at her lips. He had said he liked her and she sensed his attraction. They were alone and it was late—Connor wouldn’t come in. No one would ever know.
Part of her wanted everyone to know. All the young women in the village would be intrigued with Justin when they saw him, but he liked her first.

  She held her breath and waited for him to move. Justin glanced at the door then pushed away from the stairs. “Go to bed, Bethany.” He turned and stepped to the cot on the other side of the office.

  She watched him and released the breath she had held. “Good night, Justin,” she said as she stood and walked back up to her prison.

  Chapter Seven

  Bethany glanced in the mirror of Lydia’s old dressing table and then back at her unfinished sketch. A spare graphite pencil rolled to the edge of her temporary desk and she stopped it with her elbow. Connor’s footsteps echoed up the stairway. She glanced at him as he walked into the room, then she returned her attention to the face on the page.

  Connor lifted a plate of half-eaten food from the side of the dressing table. “Are you finished with this?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Nice sketch.” He hovered over her while she penciled in the iris of an eye. She intentionally left a spot of white to capture a light she barely remembered.

  Connor pointed to the page. “Who is it? Adeline?”

  “No, it’s my mother. At least it’s supposed to be. I don’t remember her features very well.” She pulled her pencil away from the sketch and looked at the face staring back from the page. “I miss my family.”

  “Only one more night to go, Beth. You can do it.” He rubbed a palm across her shoulder. “You’ll be back in the house tomorrow morning.”

  “I can’t wait to get out of here.”

  Connor motioned to the plate in his hand. “Me too. Get some sleep. Tomorrow morning we’ll clean this place, burn the rags, and be done with it.” He gave her a sympathetic grin before he walked back down the steps.

  “Thank goodness,” Bethany mumbled as she tossed her pencil onto the dressing table. She stood and stretched her arms overhead. One last night in quarantine—Connor was right—she could do it. Glancing around the messy room, she decided to start gathering her things to make the cleaning go faster in the morning. As she packed her satchel, she heard Connor and Justin speaking downstairs. Last night when Justin leaned against the stair rail, shirtless, she thought he might be intrigued with her. But his flirtatious interest had turned into abrupt dismissal. Curious as to what might be said, Bethany pushed back a tangle of bed sheets and sat on the edge of the mattress as she listened to the low murmur of the men’s voices downstairs. Connor spoke too quietly for her to understand his words. She wanted to sneak to the door and listen, but they would hear the floorboards creak with her steps. She stayed on the bed and strained to decipher their conversation. Justin mentioned her name.

  “No, she’s too young for you,” Connor said. “She just turned eighteen.”

  “That’s legal.”

  “You’re thirty.”

  “Not for two more months.”

  “Still,” Connor insisted, “she is not your type.”

  “Sure she is—she’s eighteen,” Justin chuckled. Bethany did not know why he found that funny, but she liked the sound of his laugh.

  “Things are different here. These people have old fashioned values and everything moves at a slower pace.” Connor raised his volume then lowered it again. “The women here are different from the women you’re used to.”

  “Oh, yeah? Are they all as tractable as Bethany? Cause I could get used to that.”

  “Tractable? No, most of the women here are strong and independent. Bethany is too in her own way. The men in her life are the leaders in this community. That’s all she has known, so she is trusting—probably too trusting—of men. But don’t let that give you any ideas. She may be young and naïve, but we are protective of her.”

  Bethany ran her fingers through her knotted hair as she sat on the bed. She felt flattered by every word Justin said about her. Every time he said her name she wanted to giggle but proudly considered herself mature for holding it in. Her fingers caught a particularly stubborn knot and it stung her scalp. She worked at the knot as she listened for more.

  “Lydia says you’re free to go tomorrow.” Connor’s voice returned to its regular volume. “So long as no symptoms return before then.”

  “Yeah, fine, whatever,” Justin replied. Bethany desperately wanted them to go back to talking about her.

  “What are you going to do?” Connor asked.

  “I don’t know yet. Volt was going to send a message to the navy about the icebreaker as soon as he had the American communications online.”

  “Do you think he’s done it already?”

  “I’ve been here ten days. If he didn’t send it yet, he’s probably dead.”

  Bethany wondered if Justin was going to mention his desire to take gray leaf medicine to the sick men on his ship, but he only spoke of communications and technical things. She wondered if Connor was going to mention the old airplane she had found below the bluffs, but he did not. She lifted a comb and listened to the men downstairs as she untangled her hair, but her name was not mentioned again.

  * * *

  Bethany lay in bed staring at the moon through the window. As she watched its bright, oval shape trek across the sky, she imagined Justin downstairs on their last night quarantined together. Though eager to leave the cottage, Bethany felt a sudden wave of sadness. It seemed wrong to grow sentimental of time spent imprisoned. Yet no matter which angle she considered the experience from—frightening, boring, horrific, lonely—she was determined to enjoy the final hours. She climbed out of bed and felt the heat of the gray leaf log as her bare feet passed in front of the grate in the wall. Straightening her tattered nightgown, she opened the bedroom door and peeked downstairs. The lantern on Lydia’s desk was out, and the only light came from the glow of the log burning in the downstairs fireplace. She listened for movement, and when she heard nothing, she assumed Justin was asleep. Overcome with curiosity, she crept down the stairs and stopped when she saw him.

  Justin was sitting on the edge of the cot with his thumb holding his place in an old book. He raised a brow and grinned when their eyes met. Then he clapped the book shut. “I was hoping you’d come see me tonight.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course.”

  She almost giggled but only ran her fingers through her hair and considered herself womanly for being able to control her gestures. As Justin stood and tossed the book onto the cot, Bethany sat on the steps. She expected him to walk to the side of the stairs and look at her through the balusters as he had the night before. Instead, he rounded the newel post and rested his hand atop it as he looked her. She smiled and scooted to the edge of the step, hoping he would sit beside her.

  Justin’s gaze moved across her nightgown then back to her face. He lifted his chin. “Now you look like a peasant girl.”

  Bethany glanced down at the old nightgown and groaned. “I know. I can’t believe we have to wear clothes out of the rag pile, but it all has to be burned tomorrow anyway.”

  “We?” Justin lifted the collar on the loose button-front shirt he wore. “Is this out of your family’s rag pile too?”

  “Yes, I believe that was my brother’s shirt years ago.” Bethany smiled. “You’re quite the peasant yourself.”

  “Oh great.” Justin chuckled. “So what should a couple of peasants do to make the most of their last night locked in the village medical cottage?”

  He sat beside Bethany on the step and turned to face her. She felt an exhilarating mix of hope and doubt as she studied his features; she liked him and could love him, if she had the smallest confirmation that he loved her. The faint lines in the tanned skin of his forehead attested to his age, but that only meant he had more experience and wisdom than her and could take care of her—if he wanted to. She saw her reflection in his dark eyes and wondered what she looked like to him. He might find her a pleasing woman to be adored or just an importunate child to be dismissed. One edge of his mouth curved up as
he grinned, and she felt desperate to know what he was thinking. More than that, she wanted to know what he was feeling. The emotions she sensed in him were a muddled mixture that provided no insight. She wanted him to tell her again about liking her voice and she wanted to be kissed and she wanted to be loved. He may leave the Land tomorrow and she may never see him again, but if by some chance this charming and mysterious stranger had fallen in love with her, she could convince him to stay. They could build a home and have a family and her father would know exactly what type of work in the Land would suit Justin. She would be the envy of the village women and she could captivate the young girls with her stories of being loved. But as much as she wanted to love him, she did not really know him. And as much as she wanted to be loved by him, he did not really know her. Though his mysterious past was undeniably attractive, it also seemed frightening. Questions shrouded Bethany’s fantasy. She drew her head back a degree. “I just realized I know very little about you.”

  Justin’s shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “What’s to know?”

  “Where you are from, for instance, and—”

  “The States.”

  “I meant your family and your village and what your childhood was like.”

  He sighed and looked away. “That doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me. Do you have family in America?”

  He put his arm over the stair behind her shoulders then lowered his voice. “Let’s just enjoy tonight, okay?”

  “Okay,” Bethany repeated then bit her lip. He did not want questions and she did not want to be found annoying. She wanted to talk but remained silent. Maybe she should have stayed upstairs. Ambivalent, she lifted her hands then mindlessly laid them on her thighs. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I came down here.”

  Justin angled his body toward her. He began to trace around her hand. His finger casually grazed her leg while he outlined her hand. “I think you do.”

  She watched his hand as it floated above hers. His cuffed sleeve left his forearm exposed and bluish-green points of light glowed on the watch at his wrist. Her gaze followed his arm to his chest then she remembered the tattoo beneath his shirt. He was right: she knew why she was down there—she wanted attention and affection. But as his fingers trailed along the skin of her leg, she realized the attention he was willing to give her skipped a few steps that she longed for. She moved her hand out from under his and began to inspect the silver charm dangling from her bracelet. “I just wanted to talk.”