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“How can I explain the pain of watching the world end and being a survivor?”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
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THE WATCH SURPRISED Wisp. The van-load of kids blocked his senses making him realize he’d been too focused on them. He slowed at the polite barrier of a single sawhorse in the road. Everyone knew him, his white hair and pale blue eyes made him easy to spot. Both men in the road waved. He waved back, feeling unaccustomed to the trust of mere acquaintances, and startled to find he wasn’t the least concerned about stopping for their inspection.
“You find what you needed?” Tall Joe asked. His eyes wandered the confines of the van. “Whoa!”
“A little more than expected,” Wisp commented.
“I’d better warn Tilly.” Tall Joe reached for the radio at his hip.
“Yes.” Wisp waited for more questions, but Joe waved them on as his partner pulled the sawhorse to one side.
“Who’s Tilly?” Ted asked.
“She runs High Meadow.”
“Will she be upset? All these kids?”
Wisp could feel the edge of panic creeping into Ted’s emotions. “She will be upset that they have been on their own. Nothing more,” Wisp assured him. “This is a safe place.”
The heavy cloud cover blocked the last rays of the evening, dropping a gray curtain over the countryside. Wisp pulled up to the front of the school feeling a frisson of deja vu. Tilly waited there with Martin and a group of people just like their arrival after the fiasco at Riverbank. Luckily, this time he wasn’t bringing any casualties.
Ted and Nixie shepherded the children out of the van and into the cafeteria. As the physical and mental noise and emotions rose, Wisp stayed by the van until they all moved inside. Martin ducked away from the crowd, making his way over to Wisp.
“Where’s Nick?” Martin asked.
“He chose to take on an undercover job,” Wisp muttered.
Martin’s curiosity spiked almost as high as his alarm. “What does that mean?”
“We ran into a group that might be the pressgang. He chose to get captured by them.”
“Because...”
“I can find him.”
Martin’s eyes scanned the long driveway, showing no emotion. “Makes sense. Is he okay?”
“He is not in pain.”
“Huh,” Martin grunted an acceptance. “We’ll need to put together a crew to go after him.” There was a thin strand of jealousy in Martin that he unconsciously smothered with duty.
“He said you would provide ‘the cavalry’.”
Martin chuckled, his somber emotions lifting. “Well I can’t promise him that, but I can give you a decent crew.” His face grew serious. “You don’t seem too pleased.”
“It isn’t a course I would take, but Nick seemed excited about it.”
“Yeah. He’s been itching to see some action for awhile.” He looked up at the building. “Where did all these kids come from?”
“I don’t know.”
“But that’s your brother, right?”
“He said they come to him. He’s been trying to find a safe place for them.”
Martin squared his shoulders. “They’ll be safe here.”
* * *
TED LED THE CHILDREN into the building with a smile plastered onto his face. He didn’t know any of these people, but he did trust Wisp. It was hard to feel so badly exposed and keep a happy facade for the children. Nixie stood to one side of the hallway observing, as she so often did. Ted caught her eye, but she gave him a tiny shake of her head.
The wonderful smells of food drew the children into the cafeteria. The hallways were brightly lit. People chatted and laughed as they sorted out the kids. Ted felt like a mouse caught in the middle of the floor at night when the lights came on. He wanted to scurry into a dark corner until he could assess the situation. A white haired woman with gray eyes in a worn but kind face came over to him.
“I’m Tilly. Welcome to High Meadow.”
Ted gave her a small bow. “Thank you. Wisp said that you could handle all the kids...” he let his voice trail off, waiting for a rebuttal or denial.
“Of course. All are welcome here. We ask that those who can, share the work.”
A shiver hit Ted. “What kind of work?”
“Whatever you can do.”
“What does Wisp do?”
“He does...” she skewered him with a piercing look. “Aren’t you his brother?”
“I am.”
“Then you know what he does.”
Ted liked her for being cautious. If she was protective of Wisp, perhaps that gave him the only assessment he needed. “I know what he can do. I don’t know what he could do for you.”
“Ah.” Tilly’s eyes lost their hooded look. “He has an amazing range of skills. It changes from day to day what he does for us, but we are always grateful.”
Ted wasn’t sure what to do with that vague declaration. It didn’t give him any ideas as to how he could be useful. “But what about the children?”
“We have a school. The older ones do chores as they are able.”
“A school?” Ted felt a horrible longing for things to be as they once were. He could almost smell the aroma of old books, the leather chairs in the library at the lab. But that was before. His old melancholy pressed down on him. They might not have a place here for him with his useless skills. Desperately, his eyes wandered the milling people for a familiar shape. “Where is Wisp?”
“He avoids crowds,” Tilly said, an eyebrow raised in a you-should-know-that manner. “Oh, here comes Kyle. He’s going to be your buddy until you get settled.”
Ted flinched at the thought of a strange man shadowing him. There would be reprimands and caustic remarks. He wondered if they would let him stay with the children. Where would Nixie go?
A tall, broad-shoulder man with rusty red hair and amber eyes came through the crowd. He looked surprised at first, then smiled warmly. “Theta.”
At the sound of his voice, Ted knew him. “Khi?” He grabbed his brother in a hug. Khi towered over him. He was strong like Wisp, but not nearly as powerful. Khi smelled faintly of chemicals, giving Ted another flashback to their early years together.
“I was named Kyle.”
“How appropriate,” Ted said. He felt better for seeing a familiar face. “I go by Ted. Theta was a bit too much for the children.” He looked around the busy cafeteria, feeling safer with this brother as an anchor. “Wisp said this was a good place.”
“It is.” Kyle steered Ted towards the food line.
“What kind of work do they make you do?” Ted asked.
Kyle handed him a tray, then laid a fork and knife on it. “Make me?” He shook his head. “They ask. I do research. Angus gave me my own lab.”
Ted’s high spirits fell. “I can’t do anything like that. What will they make me do?”
Kyle squeezed his shoulder, then leaned past him to fill a plate for him. “Eat, rest. They won’t require a commitment from you right away. They keep a chore board up. You can pick and choose.”
“Mopping floors? Cleaning pots?” he asked bitterly. Simple chores like that wouldn’t be a burden in return for a safe place to sleep and regular meals, but he had hoped for something more.
“There is some of that. And feeding the chickens, watching the children, picking vegetables, knitting hats...”
Kyle took the now laden tray in one hand, Ted’s elbow in the other and led him to an empty table.
“What does Wisp do?”
Kyle had added two cups of tea to the tray and now took one for himself. He blew on the hot liquid before taking a sip. “I don’t see a lot of him. I know he forages. And finds lost children.”
Ted looked at the plateful of food in front of him. “What is this?”
Kyle grinned at him. “Real food.”
“What do other people do?” Ted asked.
His brother’s smile slipped from his face. “What do you need to do?”
The question hit Ted solidly in the heart. For all his bemoaning of his fate, he’d hardly dared to think about what he wanted, or needed. “I don’t know.”
Kyle reached a beefy hand across the table to pat Ted on the arm. “We’ll work on that.”