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“Everyone alive today has lost loved ones. And each of us is left with the guilt and confusion of surviving. What wrinkle in our DNA made us that much stronger than our loved ones?”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
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WISP HELPED MARTIN and a couple of men from the Watch unpack the supplies and gear from the van. He could sense that Martin wanted to chew on the situation, but neither of them had any answers. He gestured for Wisp to join him in the van for the short trip into the garage.
“Angus will want a full report,” Martin grumbled as he started up the vehicle.
Wisp sent out a feeler in that direction. “He’s busy interrogating all the new kids.”
Martin squinted at him. “I doubt it’s an interrogation.” His momentary amusement fizzled. “I don’t know how he’s going to take this. He told Nick not to go.”
“Someone had to.”
“You and I know that. Angus has other plans.”
“He can’t keep everyone safe,” Wisp said, gentling his voice to take the bite out of the words. “Flu will take some. Accident. Raiders. Nick needs to be out there.”
“And you?”
Wisp shifted in his seat. “I have to go. I promised I’d find him.” The bump in Martin’s emotion didn’t surprise him. The gruff man was powerfully loyal to his people, but there was a shadow of envy at Nick’s excursion.
Martin guided the van into its parking space. “What about your brother?”
“Kyle will care for him. He doesn’t need me here.”
“Is he okay?”
“He’s uneasy in new surroundings. I think he will settle in here.”
Martin opened the door, but didn’t get out. He looked over to Wisp. “I’ll let Angus know that you’ll be in after you stow your gear?”
Wisp nodded before tucking a package under his arm and heading for the lower levels. He was peripherally aware that Kyle and Ted were together. Ted was still nervous, but Kyle seemed pleased. Wisp figured that meant things were in hand. He needed to speak with Rosa and Istvan about Nixie. He took a light scan of the settlement. The Travelers were in the tunnel again. Above him, Ted’s children felt like a tide of curiosity. With the other children at High Meadow to ease their transition, he thought they would settle in quickly. Children were always adaptable.
He made his way down the stairs to the storm shelter. The lower he went, the less pressure he felt on his mental barriers. Very few people were down here. The maze was still open. One bank of overheads was left on to light the enormous space. He moved through the staging area and on to the entrance to the access tunnel. He banged on one of the big steel doors before opening it.
The Travelers were seated around a camp table. There were tea cups and papers, so it looked more like a meeting than a meal. Rosa jolted to her feet and scurried toward them.
“You have news?” she asked breathlessly. Her emotions spiked at fear, but a twining thread of hope made it lighter.
Wisp offered her the package containing her daughter’s boots. “She’s upstairs, eating.”
Rosa clasped her hands to her chest tightly. “Are you lying?” she growled.
“She’s not who she was,” Wisp warned. This was the hard part about finding people. Sometimes they got lost on purpose.
“What does that mean?” Rosa asked, her voice tight with grief. “Are you trying to fool me with some other girl?”
Istvan came to stand behind Rosa, a firm hand on her shoulder. His eyes scrutinized Wisp, his damp clothes and the package he still held out to Rosa. Istvan leaned past his wife to retrieve it. “This is too easy. We have been searching for years. You expect us to believe you have found her in a matter of days?”
Wisp gave them a slight bow to acknowledge their disbelief. Their emotions ran the gamut from grief to fear to joy, now laced with an extra serving of guilt and regret. “The girl who wore those boots is upstairs. She calls herself Nixie. She has been badly scarred.” He touched his face. “She was traveling with my brother and a bunch of children. Tilly is settling them in the cafeteria.” He stepped away from them as Rosa’s emotions crested into a swirl too contorted to identify. He left Rosa and Istvan staring at one another in indecision. Once they saw Nixie, they could decide if they wanted to reward him. There were complications here that made him prefer to walk away. Right now he didn’t need payment for survival.
He headed back up the stairs to the tunnel to the field house. Minutes later, alone in his room, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was able to lower his barriers, relax cramped mental muscles. It felt good to not have anyone’s thoughts pounding against his head. The horses were in for the night, full and drowsy in their stable. A small mind flickered about nearby, perhaps one of the kittens investigating. The general hum of activity from the main building wound down as people finished their evening activities and headed to their quarters for the night.
Wisp sorted out the gear he’d taken, with an eye to what he’d need for the next journey. He could feel Nick, moving away. Part of him felt like he’d failed, by letting Nick go off on his own into danger. Logically, Nick’s plan made sense, but Wisp had found that logic had little to do with reality. There were too many unknowns in this mission. The men who took Nick did not look like trained militia. They were dressed in civilian clothing and bickered in a way that denied any command structure. Not soldiers, nor mercenaries, that left untrained hired guns. Wisp didn’t like that. Amateurs could be unpredictable.
Despite the late hour, Nick was still moving. That might mean a longer trip to rescue him. The season seemed to be turning much too soon this year. The chill drizzle continued unabated. This was weather that should be a few months off. Wisp packed a sweater and a couple pair of wool socks.
A mind intruded. Someone approached in a stealthy manner. Wisp thought he recognized the feel. He found his long knife and a flashlight, then turned off the lights. He slipped into the hallway, feeling his way toward the intruder. As he expected, Toad stood in the foyer, backlit by the courtyard lighting.
Toad cocked his head, even though Wisp knew he hadn’t made a sound. There was something odd about the way the boy’s brain worked, but Wisp didn’t think he was a biobot. Sometimes nature itself created oddities.
“What are you looking for?” Wisp asked.
Toad stepped out of the light, leaning against a wall. “Too loud in there,” he said pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the main building.
Wisp doubted that Toad had any extrasensory skills, but it wasn’t abnormal for feral kid to be sensitive to sound. “I’ll show you a place where you can sleep.”
“Horses in here.”
“You want to see the horses?” Wisp asked. He felt rather than saw Toad’s nod.
Wisp led him down the dark hallways to the big locker room that had been transformed into a stable. Straw covered the floor. The warm smell of the animals permeated the air. Wisp turned on the lights in a storage room, letting the indirect illumination into the main room. Big dark eyes watched them. One of the horses nickered.
Toad walked over to the huge animals. All of the horses reached out noses to sniff and butt him, making Wisp reassessed him. Toad made a clicking noise as he rubbed necks and patted heavy shoulders. Animals had a sense about humans. The fact that all the horses seemed to like Toad made Wisp even more curious about the boy.