Текст книги "The Variables"

Автор книги: Shelbi Wescott

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Текущая страница: 29 (всего у книги 31 страниц)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Scott’s faced remained pressed against the hot cement of the helipad. One of the guards pushed his foot squarely into Scott’s back while the other kept a gun aimed at his head. He was still and calm as he watched the helicopter drift toward the shore and out of sight. What a serendipitously cloudy day. Ethan’s face, so full of gratitude, shock, and fear played for Scott again and again. He had made them a napalm bomb—a simple act of chemistry. Creating it had required no great scientific mind—only a boyish curiosity and some basic understanding of combustion. It would, combined with the gasoline, decimate the helicopter. The thought made Scott feel warm and comforted. His final act on this earth had been to do what he had been trying to do from the beginning: help.

Huck was coming.

Gordy, too.

And yet Scott didn’t feel afraid.

Like a movie, he replayed the events of his life that culminated in this one moment. The job interview, the test, the proposal, the acceptance. The years of traveling to cities and bunkers, performing experiments on people who had sold their right to life to help others. Those people didn’t know that the people they had given their lives to protect were doomed as well. Scott’s virus was indiscriminating.

The elevator doors opened and feet rushed forward, and stopped. Scott’s head was bleeding from the rough tackle to the ground, and his arm hurt. Maybe it was broken, but he didn’t think it mattered anymore.

“Get him up,” Huck commanded.

The guards grabbed him under his shoulders and lifted him to his feet. The Truman men stood before him. Veins throbbed in Huck’s neck and across his forehead; Gordy stood behind his father, just over his shoulder, and he stared at Scott blankly.

“How dare you?” Huck asked with quiet anger. He stormed up to Scott and without hesitation spit squarely in his face. The stream of saliva traveled down Scott’s cheek and dripped from his chin. Then Huck turned to his guards and said, “Hit him.” One guard landed a punch in Scott’s stomach, and it knocked the wind out of him. He coughed and his body pulled him to the ground, but the men held him up.

Huck paced.

“You have told me so many times in the past that you understood our cause. And yet every single one of your actions recently has shown me that you are a liar,” Huck seethed.

Gordy stepped forward, but Huck pointed a finger at his son and his face turned red.

“Don’t you dare intervene,” Huck spat. He turned back to Scott, “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Scott shook his head.

“Nothing?” Huck let out a condescending laugh. “You aided and abetted kidnappers. You created a destructive device with the intent to harm my people. You allowed your son and your little...” Huck stopped. “What is Grant to you, Scott? Your little protégé...your little experiment.”

“He deserved to live,” Scott said. He lifted his head to look at Huck fully. Huck was nothing; so slight, so fragile. He had caustic words and a mindless army to back him, but he had no power and no control over Scott anymore. “You rule with fear and anger. The people on these Islands will not follow you down a rabbit hole of merciless killing. Your empire will crumble and you will fail and I will only be sorry that I didn’t get to watch it happen,” Scott said.

Gordy stepped forward. “Enough.”

“Stay out of this,” Huck warned.

“I said enough,” Gordy said again.

“He dies,” Huck said.

Gordy nodded. “I agree.”

“And we hunt down the boys. Bring Teddy back safely and annihilate the others.”

Gordy stood away from the group and looked out over the helipad. The helicopter was out of sight, and he scanned the cloudy horizon. “I’ll call all the pilots from the other Islands. They’ll be behind by twenty or so minutes, but we will get them. We can start a search mission—”

He was interrupted by the sound of an explosion. It was a loud, rolling clap of thunderous noise. They swung their heads to the sound and watched as a plume of smoke erupted through the clouds. From their position they could see a fiery mass plummeting from the sky. Scott tried not to jump for joy. Instead, he twisted his face into surprise and cried out.

“No!” he gasped. “No...” he whispered and he hung his head.

“Oh,” Gordy breathed. “No, no.” His face went ashen and he pointed at the spot where the smoke was billowing. “There was a child on that helicopter. A child! Dear God…Blair…what will we tell Blair?” He covered his mouth with his hands and stood and looked out.

Huck turned slowly to Scott. He stalked over and lifted his face upward.

“You are hereby sentenced to death. For treason, aiding and abetting, possessing illegal materials, and for murder.” He walked to his son and clasped a hand on his shoulder.

Scott wiggled under the firm hands of the guards.

“Gordy,” Scott said, his voice firm. The son turned. “I accept my own fate, but my family had nothing to do with my actions. Do not punish them for my indiscretions...”

Gordy looked to the ground.

“Please,” Scott begged. “Promise me.”

“You’ve earned no such promises,” Huck said and he stepped to the side.

But Scott was unrelenting. “I gave you everything I had...my entire life and my family. You couldn’t have accomplished any of this without me. I gave you everything...and all I am asking for in return is safety for my family...that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“There would have been someone else,” Huck replied. He turned his back. “There is always someone else.” He turned to the guards. “Shoot him.”

The guards loosened their grip and went for their weapons, and Scott seized the moment. He pulled away from them and took two large steps backward, and then he rushed to the edge. A small fence separated the helipad from the edge of the tower. Looking below, he could see nothing but gray. The ocean water from that height did not move or turn with the wind: it could have been cement beneath him—there was no way to see for sure. Ignoring Huck’s angry shouts and the guard’s warning shot in his direction, Scott climbed over to the ledge. The wind rushed around him and filled his ears with steady pounding.

A shot rang out and it pierced Scott’s shoulder. The pain radiated down his arm and he held on to the railing. Tears stung his eyes and his clothes whipped around his body. He thought of Maxine—his perfect mate, the mother of his children. He thought of her strength, her resoluteness, and her power. When he first met her, he knew that he had to spend the rest of his life with her. He knew he would be a better man for making her his everything. They had made such beautiful children. Strong and brave. Tender and empathetic. They were amazing, despite his own shortcomings as a father.

Another shot rang out and this time the bullet pierced his side. With all of his remaining strength, Scott pushed himself off the edge and let his body slip into a free fall. He could see the ocean below him, the rapidly approaching swirl of blue and gray and white foam. The hair on his arm stood on end and a buzzing, zipping, sound filled his ears. He closed his eyes. And smiled.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Lucy heard the explosion and rushed to the glass. Their westward-facing window provided them a brief glimpse of black smoke spiraling downward into the sea and upward into the clouds. She gasped and placed her hands against the window, and then spun to her mother. The King family gathered and watched the smoke, and they pushed their noses against the glass. Maxine placed her hand on Galen’s shoulder.

“Oh my God,” Maxine whisper. “Tell me that was not what I think it was.”

“Did a plane go down?” Galen asked. His breath fogged up the window in front of him. “What happened?” He shifted and turned to his mother. “Mom, was it them?” His lip trembled and he looked back out to the ocean, frozen.

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Maxine replied, her voice catching. “No. No. It’s nothing, come away from the window.” She pulled them each away and went to the wall, and with long pulls of the cord she shut the curtain, blocking out the natural sun and the view of the distant wreck outside.

“Mom—” Lucy started, but Maxine raised a hand.

“I can’t stay in this house,” her mother said. “With Ethan gone and your father out God knows where. I can’t.” She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, and she drank it in one gulp. Maxine filled the glass again and stood with her back to her children, holding the glass and staring at the wall.

“Where will we go?” Harper asked.

“Where do you want to go?” Maxine asked the girl without looking, and Harper beamed at the responsibility of choosing.

“To the park!”

Maxine set the full glass of water down on the counter and leaned over her map; she scanned and skimmed and then placed her finger on a small green square. “Perfect. We’ll go the park.” She lined them all up and inspected for socks and matching shoes. She made a joke about climate-controlled parks and not needing jackets and Lucy tried to smile. Everyone was quiet as they walked. Maxine led the way with Harper’s hand in her own and she kept her head up high. But when they reached the sky bridge, Lucy could tell that something was wrong. People passed them, and there were whispers. A few people stared at Maxine and the brood with narrow eyes, judging them as they passed. A few looked sad. Mournful. One woman put a hand over her heart and looked down at Harper with her lopsided ponytails and made a small sound of pity.

When they reached the end of the bridge and began to make their way to the elevator in the middle of the open atrium, they all heard the shouts and commands, which seemed to rain down on them from all directions.

Lucy’s stomach dropped and she began to shake. She grabbed on to Galen and they stood there holding each other as the guards surrounded them, their guns lifted and in place. One guard even aimed his registered weapon at Harper. Still, Maxine stood up tall. She took one look at the men and turned to her children.

“It’s fine,” she whispered. “Stand tall. Be still and stand tall.”

A gangly man in a crisp blue uniform approached Mama Maxine and stood toe-to-toe with her; he crossed his arms and peered down at the family. More guards materialized from the corners and they formed a half-circle around the Kings. If a middle-aged woman and her five children garnered that much attention from the military, then Lucy couldn’t fathom how they would respond when faced with a real threat. She scanned the open atrium and saw a group of rubberneckers huddling near the elevator, watching the scene unfold. And she could see the concierge wringing her hands at her table and an expression of both concern and interest on her face.

“Mrs. King,” the tall man said with an undercurrent of contempt. “We are authorized to hold you for questioning. Your family is restricted from gaining access to the towers at this time.”

“We’re going to the park!” Harper told him. The man didn’t blink.

“What is this about?” Maxine asked.

Lucy marveled at the strength and calm in her mother’s voice. She gave no hint that she was unraveling, that she had said goodbye to her oldest son, that she had seen and heard the explosion out her window. All her life she had thought that her mom was unbreakable—an unstoppable force, a wealth of knowledge, wisdom, and power—but as she watched her mother stare at the guard in front of her, her jaw tight, her eyes exposing nothing of the pain inside, Lucy realized that the most important trait her mother possessed was being a good actress. She didn’t deny herself the opportunities to fall apart and feel pain, but she could control it. While anger and fear crept its way into Lucy’s features, while she trembled against her younger brother, she marveled at her mother’s confidence.

Lucy took a deep breath and she thought of Grant.

And Ethan.

She thought of the fiery ball in the sky and the smoke.

Something stirred in her, a voice of remembering: to die would be their only safe way to escape. Ethan had not breathed a word of their plan, but she knew the plan would involve a death. A ruse. A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth and Lucy closed her eyes. She imagined her brother, Teddy, and Grant safe on the beach—reunited with the other survivors, and slinking away from the rubble. That is what she wanted to rest in; that is what she wanted to believe.

“I’m sorry,” the guard said, but he didn’t sound sorry. His radio crackled. “Return to your house and wait, please.”

“I will not,” Maxine said. “It’s a beautiful day on Kymberlin and I’m taking my kids to the park. I demand to talk with someone about this oversight.”

The elevator dinged open and Huck and Gordy appeared on cue. They stepped off and looked at each other, and Maxine moved forward. She pushed her way past the guards and walked straight to their leader. The kids followed behind her, crowded around her arms and legs; they moved as one. Guns and eyes followed them.

“Escort her to her house,” Huck said as Maxine approached.

“Why am I not allowed access to the tower?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips. “I demand an answer.”

Huck’s mouth twitched. Gordy slid between them and he tried to place his hands on Maxine’s shoulders to spin her back around, but she twisted out from under him and shot him a glare so penetrating that Gordy dropped his arms and retreated.

“Explain,” she seethed.

“Go home,” Gordy whispered. He was shaken. “Go home.” Then he added, “Please, Maxine...go home and be with your children. Someone will be with you shortly. Just go home, Maxine, your kids will need you.”

His tone, his words, the frown on his face—Maxine knew. She read the truth between the lies, between the softness of his voice, from the way Huck looked at the ground, his fists in tiny balls at his side. She knew because of the whispers and the stares and the pitying strangers.

“Look at me,” Maxine said to Huck. She sidestepped Gordy and a guard swooped in, pushing her back away from the leader. “If you have something to tell me, then you tell me. Don’t stand there and act like I don’t deserve to know the truth. Don’t stand there and act like my family means nothing to you. You owe me more than this. You owe me honesty.”

Huck raised his head, his eyes flashing. “Honesty? The truth?” He shook his head. “What truth?” He walked away from her, and then turned at the last second. First, he looked at Lucy, then to Maxine, finally to the younger kids. “Go home, Mrs. King. Just like my son asked. Go home before everyone here learns your truth...that your husband killed a child, and then in a final act of cowardice...” Huck looked upward to the overcast sky and put his hand straight in the air. Then he whistled low and made his pointer finger swan dive. “His body is somewhere in the ocean and I have no desire to recover it. He will rot there, alone. Is that the truth you wanted? That your husband was a gutless pig? A worthless traitor who never deserved to see the beauty of my creation.” Gordy walked to his father and stood between him and the King family.

“Father—” Gordy said, his voice low.

“Dove to his death. Left you to pick up the pieces of a broken life. I hope you learn to hate him. Let the years harden your heart.” Huck pointed at her, a piece of spittle flew from his mouth.

Gordy put his hand up, but Huck shook his head and waved his son away, undeterred.

The twins whimpered and buried their heads, and Harper sucked her thumb, wide-eyed and unmoving. Lucy disentangled her hand from Galen’s and stepped between Huck and her mother. She rooted her feet firmly—her hands clenched by her side.

“You don’t get to talk about my father that way,” Lucy snapped. She felt so instantly protective. Her fear of Huck was gone, dissolved in an instant, and she saw him for the shell of a human he truly was. She took another step forward and the guards shifted into place. “And don’t yell at my mother in front of her kids. Who’s the coward now? Who’s the gutless worm?” She tried to push past the guards; she strained against their arms, her hands formed into claws, and she batted at the air.

They picked her up like she was a doll and moved her back into place.

Huck laughed. “Go home, Lucy. Take your family home. And wait until I decide what the hell I’m supposed to do with you now.” Without another word, he stomped off and slipped inside the elevator and disappeared.

For a brief second, the atrium was filled with desolate stillness. No one dared to breathe or move. It was the concierge who finally moved out from her post and approached the shell-shocked family.

“I’ve been instructed, Mrs. King, to have the guards walk you home. And, I’m so sorry, but please hand over your keys. You and your family are under house arrest. Such a shame.” Maxine eyed the woman and dug into her pocket. She flipped the keys onto the ground, forcing the woman to bend down and pick them up. “Yes, well, thank you. And have a wonderful day at—” she stopped herself, aware of the gaffe, and cringed.

Maxine turned, her nostrils flaring. “Have a wonderful day at Kymberlin?” she repeated incredulously. And then she added for good measure, “Do us all a favor and go to hell.”

When they arrived back at their house, Maxine cried for a second. She hit her head against the door and cried. But then she stopped as suddenly as she had started and wiped her tears. She took her full glass of water from the morning and carried it with her up the stairs. Every step seemed laborious and yet Maxine moved with a trancelike quality—her eyes never traveled to the children downstairs.

“Mom?” Lucy asked, running after her, but Maxine drifted upward without turning. She walked across the loft and opened her bedroom door and slipped inside then shut it soundlessly. Lucy turned and saw her brothers and sisters huddled together. Monroe and Malcolm were holding hands and Galen was holding Harper. They looked to her.

“What are we going to do?” Monroe asked.

“I’m scared,” Malcolm added.

“Is dad coming home?” Harper asked.

Galen patted the little girl’s back and shook his head. “Come on, let’s go downstairs and play for a bit.”

“I don’t want to play,” Monroe said. “I want mom. I want dad.”

Lucy walked over and crouched down on the ground. She opened her arms and her siblings rushed forward. Together they hugged and breathed as one. When Lucy finally stood up and brushed her fingers across the twin’s hair and straightened Harper’s camisole, she could feel their eyes looking to her for answers. She pushed aside her own terror and grief, and looked at those who needed her most.

She shuddered to think of her siblings enduring their father’s death without her.

“I think we wait,” she told them. She thought of Cass and wondered how to get a message to her friend; and she thought of her father. Suicide. The explosion off the shore. There were so many unanswered questions enmeshed with her grief. “But I don’t want you to worry about anything, you hear me? I’ve got this. We’ll get through this together.”

Galen had tucked Harper into bed and the twins played a board game. They did not seem committed to winning. Each one moved his piece robotically. Sometimes they forgot whose turn it was next. Eventually, Monroe just put his head down on the carpet and stared at the wall. Galen and Lucy sat and stared out of their window. It was a spectacle: the helicopters buzzed around the crash site for hours. Wisps of smoke still appeared on the horizon, but the tendrils were smaller now, barely noticeable. Upstairs, their mother was quiet.

“Should we check on her?” Galen asked.

Lucy shook her head.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door and Lucy hesitated. She did not know what was beyond the other side, but she was certain that it wasn’t anything good. Two armed guards were stationed just beyond their doorway in the hall; anyone knocking on their door would be there with authority. Her first instinct was to hide the children. Then she lamented that she hadn’t thought of plotting an escape sooner. Could she have tunneled her way to the other homes? Would anyone have aided in their escape? Were they friendless and alone?

With a deep breath, she walked over and opened the door an inch.

It was Gordy and Blair. Their faces were stern; Lucy couldn’t see the guards.

“I have nothing to say to you,” Lucy said, and she started to close the door, but Gordy was quick and he pushed the door back open and let himself inside the house. Blair followed and shut the door quickly. She slid the lock into place and scanned the living room.

“Where’s your mother?” Gordy asked.

“I’m in charge,” Lucy answered. “To get to my mother, you go through me.”

Gordy smiled. He tilted his head. “Oh yeah?”

From behind her, Lucy could hear Blair opening and shutting the cabinets and the refrigerator, checking each drawer.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking,” Blair said and she continued. She wandered to the coffee table and peaked underneath. “I don’t know, Gordy,” she said. “I’ll check upstairs.”

“What are you looking for?” Lucy asked, her voice tense.

Blair walked into the downstairs bathroom. Her voice echoed out into the living area. “Did your father keep any of his viruses around the house?” She exited empty-handed. “His lab has been stripped clean.”

“I wouldn’t know about anything related to that. But I doubt he’d bring a dangerous bio-weapon into our home…not with small kids running around.” Lucy put her hands on her hips and tried to channel her mother.

Galen stood up and tried to stand tall, too. He lifted his head upward and looked up his nose at Gordy. “We didn’t do anything wrong. Go away.”

Blair stopped and looked at her brother. She shrugged and raised her eyebrows. Gordy turned to them and sighed. “Sit down, Lucy,” he said, and he motioned for the couch.

“No,” she replied. She stood firm.

“I’ll make this quick,” Gordy said. “You have five minutes to take what you need from this place and follow me and Blair to the lower deck. There’s a boat waiting to take you and your family to the shore. Five minutes and the clock is running.”

Lucy’s heart pounded. “What?” she asked, confused. “I don’t understand...I thought no one was supposed to leave...”

“No one is supposed to leave,” Gordy replied. “But my father intends to kill you, and Blair and I are convinced that your death and the death of your family is not in the best interest of our Islands.”

“Wait,” Lucy stared straight at Gordy. “You’re willing to spare us because it benefits you?”

Gordy smiled and shook his head. “You’re young, Lucy. When you’re older you will understand.”

“What if we refuse?” Galen interrupted. Lucy tried to hush him.

“You will die,” Blair said. She walked down into the living room and stood beside her brother. “We are not your enemy…we’re here to help you. This isn’t a trick.”

“This doesn’t make sense. Why not let us die? No one seemed to have any problems killing people before,” Lucy said to directly to Blair. Her voice had a bite to it, but Blair ignored the implications. Lucy looked to Gordy next. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and looked at his sister.

“I’ve made it clear that my motive is selfish,” he replied. “Four minutes.”

“Selfish, how?” Lucy ignored the countdown.

“My father has certain things he cares about...chief among them is control. It’s more about knowing that he has managed his own world and less about understanding what we need for the Islands to survive. But you see, I care about this place and I intend to take control of Kymberlin...perhaps sooner than later. I don’t need a mutiny on my hands within the first week. Killing the King family in a public display…within the first month of its existence? It’s bad policy.”

“So, this truly has nothing to do with us. No sense of compassion.”

“No,” Gordy said matter-of-factly. “It has everything do to with the future and sanctity of this world. Killing you serves no purpose in the larger scheme of the Islands…showing you mercy and kindness will serve our purposes better. But you see, I’m not in charge yet. My father will still override my wishes and he will kill you.”

Galen and Lucy exchanged a look.

“How can I trust you?” Lucy asked.

“You can never trust another human being fully and without reservation. You can only hope that their needs match with your needs. In this case, we are aligned. You want to live…and I need you not to die on Kymberlin. Escape is our mutual best interest.”

“People will ask where we’ve gone…”

Blair cleared her throat. “We will tell them that due to the circumstances of Scott King’s death and the explosion that took the lives of Ethan, Teddy, and Grant…that in your deep grief and mourning we thought it best to relocate you. To Copia.” She beamed, pleased with herself.

Galen looked confused and he started to ask a question, but Lucy stopped him. “And when people discover that Copia is a sham?” Lucy could see Galen’s mouth drop with surprise, but he didn’t say a word.

“They won’t,” Blair added. “Copia will succumb to a raging fire within the next four months. We already have footage and the pictures to prove this.”

“All that work…”

“Will be to preserve a quality of life that is good and needed. You can’t convince people to live a life of beauty and simplicity without selling them the lie. That’s what no one has ever understood. If you want to better the world, if you want to make changes for the good, you can’t trust that people will see their inherent value and intrinsically desire change. People are stubborn. If you want to change the world, you just do it.” Gordy said. He looked out their large window to the dimming day. He sighed and shook his head. “Time is running out, Lucy. I can’t answer any more of your questions…”

“Did my father jump?” Lucy crossed her arms in front of her body and waited for Gordy’s response. She felt so immediately unafraid of him and his family.

After a pause, Gordy nodded. “He was wounded. It was his last moment to exercise free will. Jump or fall. And he jumped, yes.”

“The explosion...”

“Jesus…” Blair whined and she stamped a foot in protest. “The guards will be back soon, Gordy. Lucy, please…”

But Gordy didn’t blink. He looked right at Lucy and took a breath. “The bodies were unrecoverable,” he answered slowly. Methodically. As if he knew. As if he were repeating the lie knowing that it was a lie. “Three minutes, Lucy. Or I will be unable to help you.”

“But you’ve admitted you’re only helping yourself,” she said. “Don’t spin it. If it didn’t matter what the public thought of our deaths, you wouldn’t be here.”

“We are creating a world where people can feel free and happy. Is that selfish? To want this place to succeed? To save you in an effort to save the Island from self-destruction? You see, Lucy, I care about this place. My father would rather crash everyone and everything into the sea than give up control. But I intend to see this through...my sister designed this place, the towers. It was Kymberlin’s idea. Not this perverted government with a leader who uses force, but she designed the building...the idea of sustainable energy, of a community where people could follow their dreams. It was an unattainable utopia that my father turned into an obsession.”

“It’s an illusion,” Lucy whispered.

“It’s possible,” he responded. “I believe.”

She looked at Blair. “And you’re with Gordy on this?”

Blair looked to the ground. “We know my father,” was all she said. “Let us save you. Once you leave, it becomes our war to fight, our battle and our battle alone.”

Lucy turned to Galen, and she was about to ask him what to do. If Blair and Gordy knew that the King family was alive, would they ever be free from the shadow of Kymberlin and the threat of discovery? She wanted to believe that Gordy would hide their disappearance from Huck. But what if it served himself to bring them back? Would he hunt them down again? She would leave if it meant she could be free of Kymberlin and the Trumans forever.

“How do I know that no one will find out what happened to us?” Lucy asked. “How do I know my family will be safe?”

Gordy walked to Lucy. She stood tall before him, pulling her spine upward, tilting her chin in defiance.

“I am offering you a boat. And a small window of time. And you will promise me that you will never come back here...ever. My father will think you are dead. Only Blair and I will ever know the truth. Over time people will forget you...don’t roll your eyes...it’s true. We will continue to grow our empire and let the earth heal, and you and your family will fade away.”

“That’s not true,” Galen said. “People will wonder where we’ve gone!”

Gordy shook his head. “No.”

“In one hundred years, you’ll be a myth,” Blair said. “A bedtime story. A cautionary tale. If you slip out in the darkness, you are dealt a kindness that we cannot give you otherwise...a chance to start over and let this place recover.”

“People forget,” Gordy added. “It’s nature’s kindest flaw.”

“It’s time,” Blair said. She walked to Lucy. “If you believe that the people here on Kymberlin will fight for you...you may not be wrong. But my father will fight for your destruction. You can choose, Lucy. But if you don’t take our out, we can’t guarantee your life or the lives of your siblings...”

Lucy nodded. “Give me a minute.”

“We don’t have a minute,” Gordy said.

“You will give me a minute,” she said, firmer this time. Lucy looked at Galen, “Get the kids. Pack some things. Only necessities and one artifact each.”

“Lucy—” Galen said.

“Do it,” she whispered. Turning her back to her visitors and her brother, she ran up the stairs and knocked on her mother’s door. When she opened it, her mother was awake, sitting against the bed on the floor. She was staring at the wall. There was a single bulb burning from a lamp. It’s light was dim and it cast long shadows against the wall. Lucy walked over and touched her mother’s arm. Maxine didn’t look at her. “Mom, we’re going. Right now. I need you to get up and come with me.”

“Going?” Maxine asked. She shook her head. “No. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Mom,” Lucy said, not trying to hide the panic in her voice. “Come with me. What do you want to take? Anything.” She rose and went to the dresser. The top was empty, bare. She opened up a drawer and there was nothing in there either. “What can I take for you?” she asked and turned.