Hunted (Dark Secrets Book 1) (15 page)

"You're different and you know it!" Scarlett snapped. "How could you say such a thing?"

"I'm just as human as all of these missing people—there's no difference in value," I reminded her.

"We know you've been singled out, but we don't know why. Very probably your mother's work," she said quietly.

I lifted my hand. "No, no don't… Don't start that!" I protested.

"It's time to lay the truth out on the table, love." Scarlett gripped my shoulders to make me focus on her. "Your mother was trying to protect you from the Takers before they ever came."

"She was hiding me from Social Services." I made a skeptical expression.

"Okay, then tell me, is your visit a social one?" She stared into my eyes. I couldn't hide the pained look that spread across my face.

She studied me. "Stockholm University. Stockholm, Sweden." Scarlett let go of my arms and paced the room. "Your mother was sure she was to blame for the Takers—because of the Bifrost project. That's why she left you in the first place. She thought she might be able to stop them."

"How was she supposed to stop them?" I challenged.

"You know the stories," she said softly.

"The wild stories!" I retorted.

"Wild as they seemed, it was what she believed."

"Yeah, she believed it alright. She believed it to the point that the government threatened to lock her up and take me away from her and put me into foster care because she was crazy! They labeled her with a mental disorder and forced her on to medication that she refused to take." I took in a wavering breath. If I was going to open up to Theron he might as well hear it all. And if he decided to leave, that would be that. My heart beat so hard I was sure they could hear it.

"She was a brilliant scientist, Freya. Why isn't it possible?" Scarlett tried. "Our greatest thinkers believed it was possible—Einstein, Rosen… "

"Please stop."

"Why Sweden?" Theron asked, suddenly joining in on the conversation.

"She worked at the university. The earth's magnetic fields are much stronger there because it's so close to the polar caps," Scarlett explained. "It's why the Aurora Borealis or Northern Lights are so vibrant and active there."

"You
believe
in the stories that ruined my life," I accused.

"I have no reason to doubt them, love," she said tenderly. "She wanted to give you the best possibility for survival. You know she loved you."

I nodded. Of my mother's love I had no doubt. Even if I was angry at her.

Scarlett opened a steel lockbox, removed two heaping rolls of U.S. currency (each strapped down by a thick rubber band) and placed them both into my hands.

"This is all the money you could ever need to do whatever it is you want to do," Scarlett said.

I held the wads of money, one in each hand. If I lived a
real
life I could get settled, buy a house and attend a university.

"Your mother used to work with a Dr. Gregory Mikkelsson at Stockholm University. He was part of the Bifrost project before it was dismantled. I think she would have gone there." Scarlett took a deep breath. "You know, dearest, she could be
…" her voice trailed off as she looked away from me.

"Dead," I finished. "I know."

"But you have to do this, right?" she asked with knowing eyes.

I nodded.

"Okay then… a couple of items to carry along with you." She handed me a small pistol-shaped taser. "Will you be accompanying her?" Scarlett asked Theron.

He nodded. "Absolutely."

"Have you ever used a sword or knife?"

"Very proficient in both," he answered.

Scarlett gave him a surprised look, but didn't comment. Instead, she went to the racks and came back with a six inch silver cylinder. It looked like a car or motorcycle part. She pulled me back a few steps, away from the object.

"Hold it in your palm and squeeze, but be prepared," she warned Theron.

The color of his fingers and knuckles altered slightly, and the cylinder unfolded like a deadly Jacob's Ladder into a powerful, gleaming sword.

"It'll slice through anything. Embedded sensors pick up the pressure from your hand, telling it when to unfold."

"It is an incredible gift," Theron said. "Are you sure?"

"How many times has she tried to lose you?" Scarlett smiled.

Theron looked at me with surprise. I looked to the floor with a smirk.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." She laughed. "That confirms it. You are determined to follow and she's decided to let you."

She continued, "There's a cargo ship that sails out of the Port of New Orleans tomorrow morning at eight a.m. Your timing couldn't be better. The captain is a friend of mine—an Englishman named Maxwell. I'll give him a call and let him know you're coming. His ship is safe, no cameras or surveillance. You won't need a passport to sail with him either—but you'll both need one when you get to the other side. I have a guy in town. You'll have ID's by tonight. And kids… " She had our attention. "If you don't find her—think about staying in Sweden. Go up into the northern high country, get a house, live your lives. Freya, you'll never get more off the grid than that. You'll have a shot at normal."

I threw my arms around her.

"Ah, you're a good girl. Please be careful and don't take any unnecessary risks." She swept a strand of my hair behind my ear. "You may never get all of the answers you want. But most of us never do. There is always misery and mystery in life. Take the good with the bad and live your life now, Freya."

I nodded. "I love you, Scarlett."

"I love you." She looked deeply into my eyes. "MY STEW!" she suddenly cried, freaking out. "I forgot all about it!"

With that, the tension from the heavy discussion was broken.

We ambled back up, out into the approaching evening. Once we were out, Scarlett doused all the lights and locked the hatch. We all carefully helped disguise it again. Then we jogged back to the house.

We overfilled our stomachs with catfish stew. Soon the wear and tear of the endless hours of being awake caught up with us.

Scarlett noticed first. "You two look exhausted. Now, I'll take no fuss. You have a long road ahead and the least I can do is offer you a comfortable night's rest. Have you finished eating?"

I nodded but Theron scooped out another bowl full of stew.

"Come here, Freya," Scarlett said. She led me into her bedroom, which was across the hall from the room Blake and Holly were staying in. "I'll be waking at four in the morning; I'll wake you both and have Napoleon come get you." Scarlett searched through a chest on the floor at the foot of her bed and then placed some freshly folded clothes into my arms. "I keep clothes of all different sizes for my guests. These should fit you both." She hugged me hard, crushing the crisp clothes. "I'm going to check on the new mother." She touched my face and swept out of the room, closing the door behind her.

I looked at the clothes she had offered
—a long flannel nightgown like I used to wear when I was four years old. For Theron, she had dug up an oversized cotton nightshirt and drawstring pants. Perfect.

As I was changing, I heard Scarlet sing out from the kitchen, "Theron, you washed the dishes! Thank you so much. I'll make sure to tell Freya you're a keeper."

I rolled my eyes good-naturedly and smiled as I headed to the bed and lay down, settling contentedly under the soft colorful quilt. Moments later, Theron knocked on the bedroom door.

"Come in,
Dishpan hands
," I teased, sitting up in bed.

Theron chuckled and closed the door. "It's the least I could do for her hospitality."

I cocked my eyebrow at him for the use of the word
hospitality.

He picked up the pajama bottoms I had left for him
—unfolded at the foot of the bed. He held them up by the waist to examine them and then looked at me to compare the shirt I was wearing to the pants he was holding.

"Hey, you're wearing the shirt," he said.

"Guilty," I admitted.

"It looks better on you anyway." He smiled.

I smiled back, snuggling down under the quilt again and resting my head on the fluffy pillow. Theron slipped on the pants and lay on top of the quilt on his side of the bed. He laced his hands behind his head and looked up at the unpainted ceiling. He was being a gentleman again. I couldn't help stealing a glimpse at him. The light gray drawstring pants tied just below his waist—they were a bit baggy. His stomach and arm muscles were defined and chiseled from his years of military training and fighting. His dark brown eyes were deep in thought. Maybe guys weren't used to being called beautiful, but Theron was definitely beautiful.

"You know,"
—I felt like making amends for my behavior at the Underground—"I've never danced like that before."

"Really?" A smug smile crossed Theron's face. "You did it very well."

"I only ever dance with my friends that are girls," I added. "Guys are too complicated."

"Am I complicated?"

"Oh yeah! You're the most complicated," I said.

I rolled over a little and put my head on his shoulder. He pressed his lips into my hair.

~

I woke the next morning to the smell of pancakes and maple syrup along with the sound of Scarlett's aunt-like voice. "Freya, Theron, rise and shine and come get some breakfast."

I rolled out of bed, picked my jeans up off the floor and gave them a good shake.

I turned my head to see if Theron was awake and found him looking back at me. He had already changed into his pants, but was wearing no shirt. From the way that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from me, it looked like he had just finished tying his boots.

He smiled. "Like I said, the shirt looks better on you."

I blushed and turned, shimmying into my pants.

Theron lifted his shirt over his head and put his arms and head through.

Wow!
I turned away. "I'm going to freshen up."

I quickly exited and marched out to the back of the house. I worked the water pump's handle and was met with a lukewarm stream.

Only down south
, I thought.

I washed my hands and face then met everyone in the house.

Theron, Blake, Holly and Scarlett were sitting around the table eating a breakfast of pancakes, eggs and bacon. Scarlett put a plate where I was to sit. I ate half of what she had put on my plate, but it was really too early for me.

"Freya, would you like to hold him?" Holly lifted the baby.

"I'd love to," I responded.

She rose and placed him into my arms, saying "I'll be right back."

He was so warm and soft. His sweet, tiny bare feet poked out from beneath his soft mint green colored blanket. Theron stopped eating, came out of his chair and knelt down next to the baby and me.

"How is he doing?" Theron looked the baby over.

"The baby is excellent," Scarlett answered.

"Can I touch him?" he asked me quietly.

I nodded with a smile.

Ever so gently Theron brought the palm of his hand to rest on the baby's soft head.

"What did you name him?" Theron asked Blake.

"Ben," Blake said, smiling.

"That's a good strong name."

"Would you like to hold him?"

"I've—never held a baby," Theron stated, wide-eyed.

"Then it's definitely time you do," Blake said as he gave Theron his chair.

I stood and put Ben into Theron's arms. "Just make sure you support his head and neck, they're still weak."

Theron nodded ever so carefully so as not to disturb his new bundle.

When he realized he was holding the baby and everything was all right, he let out the breath he had been holding and smiled up at me. I smiled back. What a sight.

Just then Scarlett came back into the room with a large manila envelope. "Well, Theron Hawk and Freya Catten, you each have brand spanking new ID's and passports
—and it's time."

Blake scooped Ben up. Holly came back in, and we all hugged and shook hands.

A knock on the door broke through the moment.

"It's Napoleon, Miss Scarlett. Is your cargo all ready?"

"You have perfect timing as usual, come on in," Scarlett sang out. "Have some pancakes."

"Couldn't eat another bite." Napoleon patted his fit stomach. "The missus already fed me ham steaks and eggs."

Theron had gone into the bedroom and now came out carrying our packs.

"I hate goodbyes," I said.

"I know, love." Scarlett kissed my cheek. "In that envelope is my cell phone number. It's an untraceable line from the Guardians. Use it to call me and check in. I'll be thinking about you constantly."

I was grateful for having Scarlett in my life.

Theron and I walked with Napoleon down to the water's edge and stepped into his boat. Napoleon used the pole to push us away from the shore then fired up the motor.

Our bellies were full, our wallets were stocked, I actually had ID, and we had just welcomed a new life into the world. I was filled with wonder, love and friendship. Somehow the alligators and water moccasins weren't so threatening anymore.

We were almost around the first bend, where I knew the safe house would disappear from view. I wouldn't see it again for a long, long time. I swiveled around in my seat for one last look and to bid a silent farewell.

The safe house was engulfed in flames.

"NO!" I screamed in a bloodcurdling cry.

Theron and Napoleon snapped their heads up to look back.

"Oh, dear Lord!" Napoleon cried as he quickly changed course and directed the boat back toward the safe house. But the old engine flooded and stalled. Napoleon cursed. "Grab an oar," he instructed.

There were only two oars on the boat floor. Theron and Napoleon each grabbed one and started to paddle furiously.

It was taking too long! I thought about jumping out for a moment, but Theron quickly grabbed me by the waist, anticipating my leap into the dark waters.

"No!" he said sternly. "You'll be no help to them exhausted or injured. You can help me paddle."

He instantly had me secured to him by putting the oar handle across the front of my body and bringing my back up flush against his chest. Helping him made me feel useful at least.

When we got close enough Theron dropped the oar and we immediately jumped into the thigh-high water and ran up the shore.

"SCARLETT!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

Theron leaped over the steps onto the porch and touched the door knob, but brought his hand back with a curse.

"IT'S TOO HOT!" he yelled to me. "SCARLETT!" he shouted through the door as he began to kick it down. The door collapsed in, and a fury of flames burst out toward him.

"THERON!" I screamed.

He rolled to the side just in time to avoid the inferno shooting through the door. He leaped up and vaulted off the porch, running. "To the back!"

We both bolted around the house. The heat was merciless. Suddenly we heard a sickening crack as half the roof caved into the house.

"SCARLETT!" I screamed again as we rounded the back of the safe house.

Theron and I stalled in our tracks. Blake lay in a pool of red liquid with a six inch K-Bar still clutched in his right hand. Next to him lay a man in a dark blue tailored suit and tie. My breath caught in my chest.

"TAKERS!" I yelled.

Theron leaped in front of me and deployed the sword in a heartbeat. It sprang to life
—each metallic portion folding out into the next, extending with the sound of connecting metal— his body my shield. But nothing happened. No more Takers appeared.

"Stay behind me," Theron ordered.

We carefully worked our way around to the other side of the house.

Just then, Napoleon came around.

"Nothing!" he said. His face was streaked with soot, sweat and tears. Mine must have looked the same way.

Theron turned to me. "The armory!"

We bolted up the path to the swing set and slid to a halt. Nothing had been disturbed. All the camouflage was still covering the hatch. Theron landed on his knees and frantically plunged his hands into the bracken to catch hold of the locks. They were still diabolically intact. I backed up, slowly realizing that Scarlett, Holly and the baby may not have made it out of the burning house.

Theron got to his feet, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted into the surrounding woods, "SCARLETT! HOLLY!!"

Napoleon came darting through the woods toward us. "Nothing!"

Theron grasped my hand. "Come on." He led me to the felled Taker and Blake; our only clues. He knelt down and put his finger at each of their necks, one at a time. "They're both dead," he announced.

"It's a Taker!" I yelled overwhelmed by terror. "Check his eyes!"

Theron lifted the man's eyelids with his right thumb and examined his eye carefully. He pulled his hand away as if he had touched a hot frying pan.

"Violet eyes," I confirmed.

Theron swallowed. "Yeah."

"Look!" I pointed to the Taker's hand. Theron lifted the metallic cord with the end of his sword—it was strung around the Taker's waist and extended over his open hand where he had been gripping it.

"Blake must have cut it," Theron said. "Here." He handed the sword to me, unsheathed his own knife and attempted to cut the cord again. It wouldn't cut it. He re-sheathed his knife. "Let me see the sword." He reached for it, and I placed it back in his hand. He sliced at the excess cord. It segmented instantly. "It seems this sword is made from the same material as the knife."

He pried the knife out of Blake's hand and cut at the cord again to confirm his thought. It worked. He unsnapped the leather sheath from the dead father's belt and put it onto his own.

"What are you doing?" I cried.

"It might be the only knife that could save your life," he stated simply.

"It didn't save his."

"He caught a Taker!" Theron spun to look at me. "Didn't all of you say that had never been done before?"

Napoleon was still running through the woods and up the shoreline yelling for Scarlett. They weren't hiding or else they would have come out by now. That could only mean one of two things
—they had either died in the fire or the Takers had them.

I couldn't wrap my mind around any of this. We had just been sitting at the kitchen table laughing, eating homemade pancakes, holding the newborn.

"SCARLETT!" I screamed, scrambling toward the inferno.

Theron gripped me around the waist and brought me to the ground. We watched the scene before us unfold in slow motion as the other half of the safe house fell in on itself.