Away Page 13

  That sent Rachel into a fit of giggles. “Ms. Moore doesn’t think much of that law. You’ll like her, Dad.”

  “So, did you know right then that you loved her?” Fisher was rapt, picturing the young lady lit up in the night that Indigo had described.

  Indigo grew sober. “I think I may have, Fisher. I think I may have known that, right then.”

  “What happened to the boys that were with you, Indigo?” Rachel stirred the last of the fire’s embers with a stick.

  “Ah. The tale turns to a sad one there. Best to save that for some other night.” Indigo rose and stretched. “These old bones are ready for sleep.”

  Fisher and Rachel had first watch together that night. As the rest of the camp dozed, they sat at the dying fire.

  “Rachel.” Fisher spoke very softly. “Have you thought about what happens when we all get back to camp?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you and your parents plan to go with Indigo to Salishan?” Fisher kept his eyes on the forest.

  “We’ll go.” Rachel wondered if she was supposed to be telling people. “At least I think we will. What about you?”

  Fisher shook his head. “Michael will stay, so I will stay.”

  “Because you owe him somehow?”

  Fisher looked at her then. “What do you mean?”

  “Because he raised you. Or is it something else?”

  “Like what?”

  “Pathik seems to think you’re ambitious.”

  Fisher grinned. “He does, doesn’t he?” He spent a moment scanning the darkness beyond the glow of the embers. “I can’t blame him; I used to be.”

  “Not anymore?”

  Fisher didn’t really answer her. “I’ll stay in part because I owe Michael. But mostly, I’ll stay because I fear Michael, or at least what Michael might lead us to. He wants us powerful, and without Indigo and Malgam here to lead, we may forget that power isn’t everything.”

  “You mean how he wants to use the gifts against the Roberts?”

  “Yes.” Fisher motioned for Rachel to be quiet; he’d heard something. He stared at a particular spot at the meadow’s edge for a minute. When he heard no more, he continued. “Michael doesn’t think, sometimes. I asked him once how we would be different from Regs—I mean the Regs who abandoned us to our fate here—if we started using our gifts to kill. He didn’t even understand the question.”

  “But what can you do, if you stay?”

  “I don’t know.”

  THE NEXT MORNING, they arrived at the campsite Pathik had stayed at while trying to make contact with someone at The Property. Rachel had stayed one night there, with him and the other boys on their way to his camp, after she Crossed.

  Rachel eyed the black remains of the tiny fire they had made that night, and tried to believe it had only been a few weeks before. It seemed like she hadn’t seen her mother or Ms. Moore for ages. She couldn’t wait to get back to The Property.

  “The hut is west of here.” Rachel knew that they had to go to the little brick maintenance hut at the edge of The Property to use the key. Jonathan had gone there with Ms. Moore’s key when she had Crossed into Away. That seemed like so long ago.

  It wasn’t a long hike. The little hut squatted on the field, half on The Property, half Away. A bare line of dirt where the Line prevented the field grass from growing stretched out on either side. Rachel had seen it many times from the other side. There was a rusted padlock hanging from the door hasp. She imagined Jonathan had broken that lock, when he disarmed the Line for her to Cross.

  She gasped when she saw it from where she stood now. There was no door. There was nothing but a blank brick wall.

  “How do we get in to use the key?” Pathik stared at the brick wall.

  “Of course,” said Rachel, mostly to herself. “Why would there be a door? They put this section up so fast, they didn’t plan.”

  Daniel stepped forward. “I’ll claw those bricks out if I have to.”

  “No need.” Indigo walked up to the hut. His fingers traced the bricks, testing the mortar. When he found what he was looking for, he took out his knife and began to chip away. The mortar turned to dust.

  “What?” Fisher joined Indigo. “It’s mud! Dried mud.”

  “This is how we Crossed, the boys and I, years ago.” Indigo removed the brick he’d been working on. “We put them back with mud, just as you say, Fisher.”

  In a very few minutes, there was a hole in the hut wall big enough for Rachel to squeeze through. She dropped to the floor inside the hut, and took the key Daniel handed through the hole to her. When she turned around she could see the door across from her, but when she reached out to touch it, the invisible barrier of the Line prevented her. It split the little hut in two.

  “Do you see the key slot?” Indigo’s voice came through the hole.

  Rachel looked around. She was in what was basically an empty room. The only thing in it was a flat metal box, mounted to one side wall. The box spanned both sides of the Line, and it was lit on the top. Rachel walked over to it.

  “Yes, I see it.” She could see where the key would fit, in a slot on her side. There was an identical slot on the other side. She stood, silent, staring at the box. She wondered what her father was feeling, outside the little hut, waiting to Cross back into his life, after so many years of thinking it was over. She wondered what Pathik and Fisher would think of her world. She thought of Ms. Moore, and how she would feel when she saw Indigo. But mostly, Rachel missed her mother, and she wanted to go home.

  She shoved the key into the slot.

  CHAPTER 16

  RACHEL LED THEM to the guesthouse, taking care to stay out of sight of the greenhouse windows. It looked empty; Vivian must be working in the main house. Daniel looked around the front room of the guesthouse with an expression on his face that Rachel couldn’t decipher. She looked too, trying to see what it was he might be seeing. The yellow glass lamp on the table, the crocheted throw on the couch. The book of short stories she and her mother had been reading when she left was still on the table near the lamp, a scrap of paper marking their place. It felt like she had been gone from this room, gone from all its comforts, for years instead of weeks.

  “You lived here?” Daniel touched the back of the couch. He looked like he wanted to touch everything in the room, to soak up all of the years he had missed with his wife and child. He looked like he knew he could never do it.

  “Yes.” Rachel went to him. “It wasn’t bad.”

  Daniel nodded. He kept his eyes on the couch.

  “Where is your mother?” Indigo sounded uneasy. His eyes kept shifting toward the door.

  “She’s working. I’ll go and find her. You should all stay inside until we come back.”

  She turned to go, and ran straight into Pathik, who was wide-eyed, staring at a digim that was sitting next to the lamp. It was one of the few digimations they had; most of theirs were old-fashioned, static 3-D digims. But a few months before Rachel Crossed, Vivian had splurged on a new imager. The digim Pathik was staring at had been taken with that, and it showed Rachel laughing, on a loop. Her head came up, revealing her face, and she giggled at her mother, who had been practicing with the new imager. Then it repeated. The sound was off, but Rachel could remember Vivian laughing back, and telling her to stand still. They had had a lot of fun that evening.

  “That’s you.” Pathik looked from the digim to Rachel.

  “Yes.” Rachel couldn’t help smiling at the astonishment in his voice. Pathik smiled, and shook his head at his own incredulousness.

  “What makes it move?”

  Rachel shrugged. “I don’t really know how it works.”

  “Doesn’t matter right now.” Fisher sounded irritated. “We have things to do.”

  “He’s right,” said Daniel. “You should go, Rachel. Be careful. If it’s safe, bring your mom back here.”

  Pathik was still staring at the digimation when she left.

  T
HE GREENHOUSE WAS empty. She wished she had time to check on the orchid crosses she had germinated before she left, just to see if they were doing okay, but she didn’t think she dared. It was close to lunchtime, so she was betting that Vivian and Ms. Moore were in the main house. Jonathan might be in town, or working on some other part of The Property.

  She paused by some bushes, watching the front door of the main house and listening for anything coming toward the house from the long driveway. It all seemed quiet, as it would on any normal day. She ran to the grand porch and stood hugging one of the huge columns, as though it could hide her. Still nothing. There had once been a time when coming to the main house for any reason had made her almost this nervous, but that was back when she was afraid of Ms. Moore. She’d seen a different side of her before she Crossed. Now she was afraid for Ms. Moore. For all of them.

  She took a deep breath and scurried from the column to the front door. She hit the intercom buzzer and waited. For a couple of moments nothing happened, but then she heard the hollow click that meant somebody was pressing the intercom on the other side of the door.

  “Yes?”

  It was her mother’s voice.

  “Mom.” The word stuck in her suddenly dry throat. She licked her lips and started to repeat it. Before she could, the door swung open, and there was Vivian, wide-eyed, tears already streaming down her cheeks. She grabbed Rachel and held her, rocking her where they stood. Rachel felt her own tears filling her eyes.

  “Inside. Inside right now.” Ms. Moore appeared, and scooted them both off the porch. For some time there was nothing but sniffling and hugging.

  “Oh.” Ms. Moore stood back from Rachel and Vivian and put her hand on her chest. “I swear I cannot take any more.” She smiled, and dabbed at her eyes with the linen handkerchief she always had in a pocket. “Let’s all go into the parlor, shall we? We were just having some kalitea—I’ll get another cup from the pantry.”

  “I’ll get it,” said Vivian, but she was silenced by a look from Ms. Moore.

  Rachel followed Vivian into the parlor and sat on the couch with her. Ms. Moore returned with a third china cup, and poured kalitea for all of them. Vivian just kept staring at Rachel, and touching her hair. Rachel didn’t mind.

  “Well?” Ms. Moore could not contain herself any longer. “Is my son—is Malgam alive?” She laughed, a slightly hysterical laugh. “I mean no disrespect, of course, Vivian. But we see Rachel is fine, and thank goodness for that. I just need to know . . .”

  “It’s all right.” Vivian leaned across the table and patted Ms. Moore’s hand. “I understand completely.”

  “He’s okay.” Rachel smiled. “He took the antibiotics and he got better. They have a healer there, but she couldn’t help him. The medicine you sent did. And he’s okay.” She turned to Vivian. “Mom.” She couldn’t go on.

  Vivian’s joyful expression turned grave in an instant. She took both of Rachel’s hands in hers. “Rachel. No matter what happened to you, you’re here now, and you’re safe. We can get you through whatever it—”

  “No, Mom.” Rachel squeezed Vivian’s hands. “It’s nothing like that.”

  She wasn’t sure how to tell Vivian that her husband, the man she thought had been dead since Rachel was three, was sitting on the couch in the guesthouse right that moment. She wasn’t sure how to tell Ms. Moore that the man she lost so many years ago, the father of her child, Malgam, was probably sitting on the same couch, along with her grandson. She decided to just blurt it out.

  “Dad and Indigo and Pathik are in the guesthouse.”

  Vivian said nothing. Ms. Moore said nothing. Rachel waited. She knew it was a lot to process. While she waited for the questions she was sure would come, she noticed the sugar on the kalitea tray and helped herself to two spoons of it. She stirred it up and sipped. Sugar. It seemed like she hadn’t had any sugar forever. It made the kalitea syrupy and smooth on her tongue. It was heavenly.

  She realized it was still silent in the room, and glanced up. Her mother and Ms. Moore were staring at her as though her ears were flapping back and forth.

  “Did you say Dad?” Vivian’s mouth was open. Rachel nodded. She had never seen her mom so shocked, and she was almost afraid to say anything more.

  “Your father is alive?” Vivian touched her own hair unconsciously—the red hair Daniel had always loved, the hair she had refused to cut or color even when she knew it would be wise to alter her appearance, back in the days right after they fled to The Property. She had always thought, in the back of her mind, that he might see it, might find her, even though she knew, all those years, that he was dead.

  “He thought we were dead, Mom.” Rachel wasn’t sure what the expression on Vivian’s face signified. “He had someone check. They couldn’t find us, and they assumed we had been Identified and hauled off. That’s what they told Dad.”

  Vivian was up and out of the room before any more could be said. Rachel started to go after her, but Ms. Moore motioned her back to her seat.

  “Let her go to him.”

  “Indigo’s there too.” Rachel wasn’t certain Ms. Moore had heard.

  “Yes. I’m certain your mother will bring him along.” Ms. Moore’s tone didn’t invite more discussion on the subject. “Are you all right, Rachel? Nobody hurt you, did they?”

  “No. They didn’t.” Rachel felt so tired. She was here. Safe. With her mother and Ms. Moore. She wanted to sleep. For hours. And then shower in hot, hot water. Instead, she drank her sugary kalitea. She knew it would be a long time before she slept.

  “What’s going on?” Jonathan came into the parlor, pushing back the brim of his hat. “I just saw Ms. Quillen running to the guesthouse like—” He broke off, and stared at Rachel, shocked. “Child!” His chin began to tremble in an odd way, and Rachel realized he was holding back tears. She went to him and hugged him. She wasn’t surprised at how glad she was to see him. He had been like a grandfather to her in so many ways while she grew up on The Property.

  “I’m okay,” she whispered in his ear. He hugged her back, and then held her at arm’s length for inspection.

  “My dad’s here. And Indigo.” Rachel hugged him again. She didn’t see how Jonathan’s smile faltered slightly.

  “Well,” said Jonathan softly. “It sounds like you have a story to tell.”

  They sat down on the couch together and talked. Ms. Moore went for another cup, and poured Jonathan some kalitea. Then Rachel told them about Away.

  WHEN THE DOOR to the guesthouse burst open, instantly four knives were drawn and at the ready. Vivian didn’t hesitate at the sight of the blades pointed in her direction. She scanned the faces of the people before her. In three of them she saw many things: fear, curiosity, fatigue. But there was a fourth, and in the fourth face, Vivian saw her life.

  He looked so old. But she could see him so clearly, through the scars and the roughened skin, the lines and the shadows. There he was. Alive.

  “Daniel.” She meant to say it out loud, but her mouth formed the word without sound. She saw one of the others—an old man—gesture to the two boys to retreat.

  He came to her, like she had imagined so many times that he might. But his hand in hers was warm, and his tears wet her cheek when he kissed her. This was real, not a dream. And she knew she would never be parted from him again.

  RACHEL FIELDED QUESTION after question. Ms. Moore and Jonathan wanted to know every detail of the past weeks: how Away was, what the Others’ camp was like, how many survivors there were. After what seemed like a long time to Rachel, they heard the front door open quietly. Daniel and Vivian walked into the parlor arm in arm, followed by Indigo, Pathik, and Fisher. Vivian’s eyes were red, but her face was filled with light. She could not stop smiling. Daniel seemed to be having a hard time taking his eyes off her.

  The two boys gawked like tourists, their curiosity overcoming any sense of caution. Indigo looked around too, but his eyes halted at the digim on the mantel. It was of him, as a young
man. His gaze went from the digim to Ms. Moore.

  “Elizabeth.” He whispered her name. She got to her feet, somewhat unsteadily. Rachel stepped around the table and took her arm.

  “Thank you, Rachel.” Ms. Moore sounded steadier than she looked. “I wonder if you and your mother could show the boys and Daniel where they can clean up a bit. I’d like a moment with Indigo.”

  “Certainly.” Vivian exchanged a glance with Rachel. It was not a simple reunion for Ms. Moore. “Perhaps we should all go back to the guesthouse.”

  “No,” said Ms. Moore. “I think we had all better stay in the main house, don’t you? There are plenty of bedrooms, and it’s better if we don’t have to go back and forth—less chance of being seen. If there’s anything you need from the guesthouse, best go and get it.”

  “I can go later, once it’s dark. I’ll turn on some lights so it looks like I’ve settled in for the night as usual, and then come back.” Vivian held Daniel’s hand in hers. “For now, if you’ll follow us upstairs, boys?” She motioned to Pathik and Fisher. “Rachel and I will show you around.”

  “I’ve got some things to see to in the greenhouse,” said Jonathan, his eyes on the floor. He left without another word.

  There was silence. Indigo and Elizabeth stood, awkward and shy. Elizabeth stared at the floor. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

  “A rather handsome fellow, there.” Indigo smiled. Elizabeth heard the smile in his voice and looked up. He pointed at the digim on the mantel.

  “Isn’t he, though?” Elizabeth smiled too. “I made a huge mistake when I let him go.” She closed the distance between them, holding out her hands. Indigo took a deep breath, as though he were about to dive into water, exhaled, and clasped her hands in his own. His eyes lit on her necklace—on the band suspended there.

  “You still have the ring.” He smiled again.

  “Of course I still have the ring.” Elizabeth swallowed. “I’ve learned from my mistake. I’ve paid for it. I won’t make another like it.” Elizabeth sought his eyes, hoping to see forgiveness there.