Stolen

by Cheree Alsop

  At the end of the movie, he still laid there, asleep. Fellow dozed in the crook of his elbow, his black muzzle on Marek’s arm. “Who falls asleep during Die Hard?” Kip asked incredulously.

  “He looked tired when he came in,” Mom replied. She put a blanket over him, motherly concern on her face.

  “I should wake him up,” I said. I really didn’t want to, knowing how badly he needed the sleep, but I knew he couldn’t stay. “We have a field trip to a museum tomorrow.”

  “A museum. That sounds fun,” Mom replied.

  “Which museum are you going to?” Dad asked. I could see him debating whether he could go with the class on the pretense of acting as a chaperon.

  “The Museum of Natural History,” I replied, knowing it wasn’t one of his favorites.

  “Oh. Well, have a good time. Do you think you’ll be home by dinner?”

  I shrugged. “They didn’t say, but it is pretty far, so we’ll probably stop somewhere on the way home.”

  “Do you need some money?” Dad pressed.

  I shook my head. I saved most of the money I earned at the clinic, spending it only on books and the occasional wardrobe improvement.

  “If you guys are going to the same place tomorrow, maybe we should just let Marek sleep here. He can go home in the morning and get ready, or borrow some of Kip’s clothes,” Mom offered as she gathered up the empty popcorn bowl and cookie tray.

  Dad helped with half-finished soda cans and the chip bag. “He really did look tired. Just make sure you call his parents and let them know he’ll be spending the night.”

  I tried not to look at Marek’s sleeping form, worried that the concern I felt for him would show on my face. “Whatever you think is best,” I said. I left the room with Mom and Dad behind me. Kip grabbed his blanket from the easy chair he had been using and followed us out.

  Mom turned off the light. She acted like she was going to call Fellow, then changed her mind. “Fellow sure likes him,” I heard her say to Dad as they made their way up the stairs to bed.

  “Dogs are a pretty good judge of character,” Dad replied with a yawn. Their door shut, then Kip’s followed.

  I wandered through the kitchen straightening odds and ends before making my way toward the stairs to go to my own room. When I passed the living room, I was surprised to see Marek standing in the darkness folding the blanket Mom had put over him.

  “You don’t have to go,” I said, suddenly shy. I didn’t understand why it felt so different to be there with him in the dark after all we had gone through.

  Marek shook his head, the light from the hallway behind me reflecting in his weary eyes. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, but my presence puts your family in danger. I shouldn’t have come here at all, let alone fallen asleep.” He sounded angry at himself.

  He sighed and shook his head. “It’s just the safest I’ve felt in a very long time.” At that moment he looked laid bare and vulnerable, like he had no more walls and he knew it. He held my gaze for a moment, then turned away and put the blanket on the couch. It took him a long time to turn back around. When he did, his eyes were unreadable once more. “I’ll meet you tomorrow at eight by the library, if you still want to go. That way, your parents won’t see me leave the tree house.”

  I nodded. “I’ll be there. Do you need anything?”

  Marek shook his head again, but I caught the briefest smile on his lips. “I’ll be fine, thank you.”

  I watched him bend down slowly to give Fellow a last pat, then he turned and made his way to the front door. He gave me a short wave, then was gone.

  Chapter 14- Marek

  I kicked at a clump of grass, angry at myself for falling asleep at the Marchs’. Kyla didn’t seem to mind, but she didn’t know what would happen if the Falconans found us. The rational part of my mind reminded me that there was nothing to link me to Kyla, nothing for the Falconans to follow, but it did nothing to ease the tension that ran through my body. It was never that cut and dry when it came to the Falconans.

  I paused at the base of the ladder and debated whether to expend the energy it would take to climb to the top. The temptation to spend the night under the trees in the soft grass called to me, but the thought of being found asleep in the open, especially with how deep I had been sleeping, sent me up the ladder.

  I swallowed the last pill in the cup on the table, then sat on the bed. The thought of leaving the next day sent a small shard of regret through me and I smiled. I liked the tree house, as simple and solitary as it was. There was something welcoming in the dark corners and the song of the wind through the eaves. The wolf side of me likened it to a den, a small, cozy space hidden against the dangers of the world.

  But I was anxious to get back. I could only hope everything was alright. I settled back on the blankets and closed my eyes, willing the worry in my chest to ease. The sooner I made it home, the better for everyone, the Marchs especially.

  I debated whether taking Kyla was a good idea, but I owed her for everything she had done and it was the best way I could think of to repay her. Something deep down inside of me wanted her to see what I did. I needed her to know I was a good person. She would leave and go back to her old life anyway, but at least she would know that helping me wasn’t a bad thing. I never wanted her to regret what she had done.

  Chapter 15- Kyla

  Marek was waiting patiently next to the library as planned. When I picked him up, he accepted the sausage biscuit I handed him with a good-natured smile. He ate it while directing me to the roughest part of town, the Downs. I had never been to the Downs before, but driving past the unspoken perimeter was enough to make my heart pound. I glanced sideways, wondering if Marek could hear it. Driving slowly, I had to keep reminding myself to loosen my grip on the steering wheel. If we were killed, at least they would be able to identify me from the finger imprints.

  Graffiti littered the walls in huge sweeps, signs, gang symbols, and graphic pictures depicting the horrors the war had brought upon us spread as far as I could see. Garbage flowed from the alleyways along with several cats and a few other creatures I didn’t take the time to identify. We passed a group of men standing near a corner; a shudder ran down my spine at the way they eyed my car.

  “Park at this garage,” Marek said when I had all but decided we were driving to a certain and immediate death. “We’ll have to leave the car where it’ll be safe.”

  Unwilling to argue the definition of ‘safe’ in the Downs, I did as he instructed. I hid all important belongings under the seat and moved to get out of the car when Marek touched my arm. I looked at him, wondering what was coming next. “Kyla, before we get there, I want you to know that if things get too weird, too intense, or way out of your comfort zone, you can walk away without a guilty conscience. You’ve already done more than anyone could ask for.”

  I nodded even though just being in the Downs was already way outside of my comfort zone.

  Marek gave a small smile as if he guessed my thoughts, then he became even more serious. His eyes held mine, urging me to understand the importance of what he was saying. “I need you to know that the reverse is also a must. If I feel any of this is too dangerous for you, I must be able to ask you to walk away and know that you’ll listen.”

  My heartbeat quickened. Where were we going?

  “I can’t take you in if you don’t agree,” Marek said quietly.

  I hesitated, then nodded. I knew I could trust him.

  “Alright,” Marek said. He opened his door.

  It was a long walk from where we parked the car to our destination. Marek looked like he was in deep thought, so I didn’t break the silence. The morning air smelled thick and old as we walked between buildings baked a dusky tan by the sun. The few people who were out took one look at Marek and vanished like dust in the early breeze. A pit bull growled and trotted toward us, then turned suddenly into a side alley.

  I studied Marek. He seemed so calm here, so in control. I had to remin
d myself that we were in the Downs; no one was in control in the Downs. There were so many killings at night the police had finally declared it outside of their jurisdiction. Even the Falconans seldom went this deep into the city.

  Movement in the sky above us caught my attention. Glancing up, I saw a lone black bird circling the air over what look like an abandoned warehouse. The building had once been painted white, but over the years the paint had peeled and never been properly scraped and refinished. Dusty broken windows looked like missing teeth in a skeletal smile.

  As we made our way toward the building, the bird suddenly tucked its wings close to its body and dove. I feared it would hit the roof. It disappeared from view without opening its wings to slow its descent.

  “Through here.”

  Marek’s quiet voice brought my attention back to where we stopped. He had pulled open a side door to the warehouse and was ushering me into the dark interior. I glanced one more time at the roof, then stepped inside.

  It took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Fingers of sunlight filtered through the broken windows to reveal an assortment of dusty machinery and abandoned tools. Unbidden, Marek took my hand and guided me through the maze as though he could see flawlessly in the half-light.

  “What is this stuff?” I asked in a whisper. The age and undisturbed stillness of the ancient machines made it feel like we were walking through a cemetery or a museum.

  Marek’s voice was hushed as well when he replied, “Many of the warehouses in Charlton shut down during the war. Most were never reopened as people reprioritized their needs. Safety came before the frillery and surplus of what was modern day living. When people start to feel safer within the closed border, life began to return to somewhat normal, but everyone learned a valuable lesson. Stuff means nothing if you don’t have your safety and that of your family.” He helped me over a large ramp. “That’s why they accepted the idea of the Falconans so easily. It was worth that kind of infringement on their freedom to feel safe. I only hope as things return closer to normal, they’ll begin to realize how dearly that freedom was bought.”

  We had stopped walking. He pointed to the ground at my feet. I stepped back and saw the faint outline of a rectangle roughly the size of a door mat. Marek crouched down and put his hands on the two corners closest to him. A faint hum sounded, then the panel fell in slightly and slid noiselessly to the side. I stared in amazement.

  Marek led the way down a steep ramp. The panel slid shut behind us, but just when I feared we would be left in the dark, faint blue lights appeared in a row on either side to line the path. I tried not to look as surprised as I felt, but when Marek glanced back, there was a shadow of a smile on his face.

  I followed him to a solid metal door. Marek put his hand on a brick to the side of the frame that looked like every other brick lining the ramp; the door opened with a slight groan. My eyes widened at the view before me.

  A room bigger than the vast warehouse above us spread out below a platform just outside the door. It looked as if it had once been underground storage for the warehouse, but had been turned into something far different. From our high perch, I could see various rooms, the main one of which was filled with electronic equipment, computer monitors, and a multitude of televisions. Most of the other rooms were designed as sleeping quarters for at least two dozen people. In the far corner, I could make out what looked like an assortment of motorcycles.

  “You coming?” Marek’s eyebrows were raised as though finding a fortress under an abandoned warehouse shouldn’t surprise me. I caught a faint, teasing gleam in his blue eyes. “Welcome to the Den,” he said. We passed through the door and he led the way down the stairs into a small room.

  As soon as Marek set a foot on the floor, a door to our right opened and two boys dove at him. He expected it and flipped the first one into an ungraceful heap against the wall. The second, Marek spun with the force of the boy’s momentum into the first. He turned back in a crouch, but was a second too late to avoid being tackled by a black-haired young man with a reckless grin.

  Marek grunted as he impacted the floor. I stood quietly on the last step. By the looks on all of their faces, this was a common tradition. I worried about Marek’s stitches, but knew enough about boys not to mention it.

  A movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. A door to the left had opened and a brawny, tawny-haired man leaned against the door, his well-muscled arms crossed as he watched the young men brawl. A young girl, roughly five with white-blonde, chin-length hair, peeked out from behind the man’s legs. She stared at me, her dark eyes wide.

  In the end, the four boys were a laughing tangle of arms and legs. Marek worked his way free and rose smoothly. If his side hurt, he hid it well.

  The little girl in the doorway ran to him, her bare feet making no sound on the concrete floor. Marek knelt and scooped her up. She buried her head against his shoulder, holding him tight. I couldn’t help but smile. “It’s okay, sweetheart; I’m home,” Marek said soothingly. The little girl seemed so tiny and fragile; she held onto Marek like she would never let go again.

  Marek glanced at me as if suddenly remembering I was there. He tipped his head to indicate me in a way that made me remember his wolf side. “Pack, this is Kyla. She’s trustworthy.”

  One of the two younger boys that I guessed to be about Kip’s age looked me over suspiciously. “How do you know we can trust her?” he asked quietly. He had strange dark gray hair and sky blue eyes that made him look older than he was. I tried to give him a reassuring smile.

  “Take my word on it, Shadow. She can be trusted.” Marek set the little girl down slowly. She grabbed onto the hem of his shirt and stood close to him, watching me shyly. “She saved my life,” Marek concluded with an embarrassment that surprised me.

  The brawny man at the door walked toward us, his gait smooth and rolling. There was a grace about him that belied his size and muscles. “You were saved by a girl?” he asked with a grin. Marek’s embarrassment suddenly made sense.

  I tried to save his dignity. “Not a girl, a woman,” I said chidingly. Everyone looked at me. I forced a smile on my face and put a hand on one hip.

  The brawny man said, “Oh man!” Everyone started to laugh. He stepped forward and held out his hand. “Thanks for saving Marek.” My hand was lost in his when we shook. My racing heartbeat slowed and I smiled at the others.

  “We were worried he wasn’t coming home this time,” the man said.

  Marek was sober when he answered, “I almost didn’t. Ras nearly ended me.”

  The black-haired young man with the reckless grin nodded at Marek’s bandaged hand. “What happened there?” I guessed he was just a bit older than Marek.

  “Well,” Marek flexed his right hand, making the bandages tighten. “I did this myself.”

  The boys laughed, but grew quiet when Marek lifted his shirt and showed them the other bandages. “But a Falconan did this. Kyla stitched me up in her dad’s vet clinic. She’s a fair hand with a needle and thread.”

  There was gratitude on the boys’ faces when they looked back at me. I felt my cheeks grow red.

  Marek indicated the brawny man that I guessed to be about thirty, the oldest of the group. “Kyla, this is Phoenix.” He gave me a solemn nod. Marek continued, “These two rascals are Shadow and Flint.” He gestured to the two younger boys. Shadow, the dark grey-haired one, dipped a mock bow, while Flint seemed more shy and reserved. He had dark brown hair and was about a head taller than Shadow. He merely watched me, his eyes cautious. Marek waved a hand at the black-haired boy who now stood back by the door. “That’s Raven, our watchman.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Raven said with a grin and a short nod. He leaned against the door frame with lithe ease, his body thin and slender.

  “And this,” Marek said, smoothing the little girl’s hair as she hid behind him. “This little angel is Whisper. She’s the noisy one,” he said with a wink. The other boys laughed goo
d-naturedly while Whisper buried her head against Marek’s leg. Her white-blonde hair hid her face from view. She looked very frail, as if a gust of wind could carry her off.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” I said.

  “Do you have a family?” Whisper asked in the silence that followed; her voice was soft and barely audible.

  I nodded. “I do. Maybe you could meet them sometime.” I didn’t know why I offered, but it seemed like the right thing to say. Whisper’s eyes widened at the invitation and she nodded. Marek gave me a small smile.

  “So it was Ras?” Phoenix asked, his eyes narrowing.

  “We hate Ras,” Shadow said in conspiratorial tones, falling in beside me. Marek led the way through the left door and down a hall to the main room I had seen from above.

  “Why is that?” I asked the question the boy was obviously waiting for.

  “He’s the Captain of the Falconans. He’s been trying to kill us since Marek escaped us.”

  “Helped us escape,” the black-haired boy, Raven, said from behind.

  “Same thing,” Shadow shot back. Flint, walking on the other side of me, just shook his head and shrugged wordlessly.

  “Anyway,” Raven took over the story despite the glare Shadow shot him. “What Shadow’s trying to say is that Ras and Marek have been at each other’s throats since we got here. Ras wants to kill him and bring us all back.”

  “Back where?” I asked. The boys just exchanged looks as if the place was too horrible to talk about.

  “It’s a good thing you’re here,” I overheard Phoenix say to Marek. “They’re bringing a truckload in tonight. They’ve been gathering Lost for a few weeks now.”

  Marek nodded, pushed open the door they had reached, and held it so everyone could enter. I paused at the entrance to the main room. “This is what we do,” Marek told me quietly.

  The computers I had seen from above were set along tables covered in what looked like charts and blueprints. Televisions on mute showed various local news stations across the United States. I could see broadcasts from Delaware, Florida, Colorado, and California from where I stood. Multiple white boards hung along the entire length of one long wall and were covered in a variety of diagrams and colors that would have been the envy of Professor Flinn. “What’s all this?” I asked in awe.