The Quest (9 page)

“I really don’t like that boy,”
Alia complained into my head.

I chuckled. “What’s to like?”

The trip was short. Terry found us a mall just inside a largish town.

Not wanting to attract attention, Terry sent only Heather and Candace inside to do our shopping because they were the least filthy and weren’t wearing pajamas. Even so, any casual observer could see that they had been through hell. I feared they would be stopped by the mall’s security on suspicion of something or other, but our luck held. We had taken a decent amount of cash from the cars’ passengers, and the girls soon returned with clean clothes and shoes as well as desperately needed food, water, milk and diapers.

We ate ravenously in the cars. Then, using wet towels, we wiped ourselves as clean as possible and changed into less conspicuous attire.

“You’re on foot from here,” I informed my sister.

Abandoning the vehicles in the parking lot, we walked half a mile to a bus station where, using the remainder of our cash, Terry just managed to get everyone onto a cross-town public bus.

Terry was probably the worst off in the low-profile department. With the exception of her pirate hook, Terry had lost all of her left-arm attachments including her decorative prosthetic hand. For the present, she had removed her hook and settled for being a conspicuous amputee, drawing an occasional sidelong glance from other passengers as we rode the public bus to the other side of the town.

“Just another few miles,” said Terry once we got off the bus near the end of its line. “We’ll walk from here.”

That drew quite a few groans from our party. At this point, there was nothing “just” about another few miles.

“Rabbit?” said a man’s voice that would have made us jump if we had the energy. “Well, I’ll be darned!”

We turned to the voice, which belonged to a blond middle-aged man wearing a dark pinstripe suit.

“Merlin!” cried Terry, and I hoped that was his call sign and not his real name. “It’s so good to see you!”

Terry jogged over to the man, and Alia and I followed.

“Welcome back, Rabbit,” Merlin said pleasantly, shaking Terry’s hand. “I see you brought guests this time. We sensed some psionics heading our way and got worried. It’s dangerous to walk about with open powers these days, you know.”

“I’m sorry, Merlin,” said Terry. “It was unavoidable.”

“I can imagine,” said Merlin, glancing at our crowd. “New Haven?”

“Yeah.”

“How many are you?”

“Nineteen, including one infant,” replied Terry. “We really need your help.”

“Under the circumstances, I can hardly refuse,” said Merlin. “But our finder and I came in a single van and it won’t hold everyone. How about I take the psionics in now and then come back for the others?”

“Sounds great,” said Terry, and then gestured toward me and Alia. “This is Hansel and Gretel.”

“I’m Adrian,” I said, shaking his hand.

“Yes, I’ve heard of you,” replied Merlin. “I’ll tell you my name once we’re in the van.”

In addition to Alia, Steven and me, Merlin took Patrick and baby Laila to a black van driven by the psionic finder who had located our party. Rachael could hide her own power, of course, so she stayed behind with Terry and the others.

In a few minutes, we arrived in a quiet residential neighborhood where Merlin, a puppeteer and hider whose real name was Arthur, led us into a large, unoccupied redbrick house near the end of the block.

Inside, Merlin spent a few minutes setting a hiding bubble over the house.

“We own all the houses on this block and the block across the street,” said Merlin, “but stay here till I get everyone. We’ll talk then.”

Too exhausted to even bother exploring the house, we flopped down on the dusty carpet and sheet-covered sofas in the spacious living room.

It took two more trips for Merlin to bring everyone to the house, and by then quite a few other residents of the Guardian settlement had come to greet us as well.

“My name is Marjorie Harding,” said their leader. She was an aged gray-haired woman who I sensed to be a fairly powerful telekinetic. “Welcome to Walnut Lane, children. Rest easy now. You are safe here.”

“Walnut Lane?” I repeated in surprise. The name of the settlement seemed oddly familiar.

“Yes, dear,” replied Mrs. Harding. “Have you heard of us?”

“I think so,” I said uncertainly. “I’m not sure.”

Terry started to ask what happened to New Haven, but Mrs. Harding stopped her, saying, “Rest first, Teresa dear. You will have your answers soon.”

Terry looked like she was about to argue, but then nodded compliantly. It was our first break since leaving New Haven, and she wasn’t going to cause trouble. I had cringed when the leader called my combat instructor “Teresa.” If I had dared to call Terry by her real name, she would have knocked me off my feet.

It was only a little past 3pm, but most of us slept on the living-room carpet as the residents of Walnut Lane kindly cleaned our new house and prepared it for nineteen refugees. Already having rested a bit while waiting for the others to arrive, Alia and I helped out a little, which allowed us to explore the various rooms. This house was owned and maintained by the Walnut Lane Guardians as a guest house, and it was used for hosting occasional psionic gatherings in which representatives of other factions came to discuss everything from the war to the weather. It was a wide, three-story semi-mansion with six bedrooms and two bathrooms, but it would be a tight fit for us. The Guardians brought in extra blankets, mats and folding camp cots from their homes. There was already talk of some of the Guardian families taking in the littlest kids to give them better care, but nothing had been decided on yet.

We ate dinner at a little before sundown. The dining-room table wasn’t large enough to seat us all, so two more tables were brought in, leaving hardly any room to move about. Alia and I sat with Terry at Marjorie Harding’s table, and we finally learned what had happened to New Haven.

The Angels had come in two waves.

The first was merely a diversion. They attacked several buildings and then retreated into NH-2 and NH-4, barricading themselves into the upper floors. The Guardian Knights had converged on those two locations, leaving the rest of New Haven relatively unguarded.

The Angels’ second wave hit the Knights from behind. The invading Seraphim didn’t outnumber the Guardian population, but they certainly outnumbered the Knights. With the Knights pinned down in the two buildings, other Seraph units were free to take the rest of New Haven with minimal resistance.

The Guardian Knights had been unprepared for the sheer size and ferocity of the Angel attack. Everyone knew that the Angels were riled up over the death of Larissa Divine, but believing that their head had been destroyed, the Knights hadn’t counted on them being very organized. And nobody had expected the Seraphim to attack us with the suicidal determination of newly converted psionics.

“I’m truly sorry, Teresa,” said Mrs. Harding. “We believe that less than a quarter of New Haven’s residents made it out. The Angels knew that the loss of our greatest city would break our spirit. Of the Guardian survivors, many have already re-separated from the main faction and will probably create their own independent settlements.”

“Why aren’t we regrouping?” demanded Terry. “What of the Council?!”

Mrs. Harding shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid the Council’s airplane never arrived at its destination. We’re not yet sure if it crashed or was taken by force.”

Steven, who was also sitting with us, swore loudly enough to draw stares from around the room.

Mrs. Harding pretended not to care and continued quietly, “There were a few Council members who escaped by other routes, but we haven’t heard from Mr. Baker or–”

“Cindy!” I cried. “Cynthia Gifford! She was on that plane too?”

Mrs. Harding nodded. “I’m afraid so, Adrian.”

Alia gasped and turned to me. I looked down at her face and saw tears welling in her wide, frightened eyes. My sister quickly buried her face in her hands and started sobbing loudly.

Mrs. Harding looked quite uncomfortable. She hadn’t known who Cindy really was for us.

Putting my hands on my sister’s quivering shoulders, I said as confidently as I could, “She’s alive, Alia. I’m sure she’s alright. We’ll just have to find her.”

Alia shook her head and continued crying. I felt pretty horrible myself, but I wasn’t going to let myself break down at the table. Besides, I might even be right. No one had found Cindy’s dead body, so until we knew for certain, I’d keep my tears to myself.

As for the Angels’ new leader, the Guardians of course already knew all about King Randal Divine. Randal had openly declared himself on the night of the attack on New Haven. That was probably one of the reasons why the once-reunited Guardians so easily broke apart again. It was easier to run and hide than to fight a force led by a male master controller.

Terry asked Mrs. Harding, “Do you have a list of known survivors?”

“A very incomplete list,” she replied. “I’ll have it for you first thing tomorrow. We’ll do our best to locate the parents of these children and reunite them as quickly as possible. In the meantime, you may stay as long as you like, provided you obey our rules.”

The rules were primarily “don’t rock the boat.” Three hiders, including Merlin, who was also an official Guardian Knight, made regular rounds to keep all the houses hidden from psionic finders. The street and spaces between each house, however, were not hidden. That meant Steven, Alia and myself were not to leave our house without first getting individual hiding protection.

“In addition,” said Mrs. Harding, “we would prefer that everyone remain as inconspicuous as possible, since there’s always the occasional nosy neighbor that might inadvertently lead Slayers or Wolves our way. We do have a number of Knights here for our security, but it’s best to avoid confrontation whenever possible.”

I learned from Mrs. Harding that there were twelve other houses on our block, and all of them housed psionic families. The block across the street from which this settlement took its name was also about the same size. All together, there were about twenty-five families in Walnut Lane. According to Terry, this was a pretty typical Guardian community in terms of population. Terry knew Mrs. Harding fairly well, having spent several weeks here last fall after leaving New Haven on account of my blindness.

And I finally remembered where I had heard the name Walnut Lane before: Laila (my late girlfriend, not the baby) had visited this settlement with a Guardian peace envoy back in January. Had she stayed in this very house? It might sound ridiculous, but I felt as if I had followed her here… that we had been guided to this place by her spirit. But then again, I didn’t really believe in stuff like that. I guess I just missed her.

As for baby Laila, one of the Guardian families offered to take her in that very night, and after bidding Alia goodbye, Patrick left with them too. Everyone else was officially put in Terry’s temporary guardianship until their parents could be located.

Before bidding us goodnight, Mrs. Harding and Merlin delivered several boxes of clothes to our house. Most of the outdoor clothes were secondhand, donated to us by the families of Walnut Lane, but they had also purchased clean underwear, socks, towels, toothbrushes and other essentials. We were each given a duffle bag to keep our things in, and we thanked Mrs. Harding many times over.

Three of our six bedrooms were on the second floor and the rest were on the third, and the Walnut Lane Guardians had prepared all of them with plenty of extra mats and cots. We originally planned to simply divide the second-floor rooms among the boys and give the third floor to the girls, but there were two strong voices of opposition to that plan.

The first, not surprisingly, came from Steven.

“I get my own room,” he said brusquely.

“There are seventeen people here and only six rooms,” I said in as reasonable a tone as I could.

“Your problem, not mine,” said Steven, raising himself up to his full height and staring menacingly down at me. I wondered if he might actually try using his pyroid powers on me.

I stood my ground and said sternly, “Nobody gets his own room in this house.”

Steven grabbed my shirt. “I do. And don’t you start playing Knight with me, you little–”

Terry overheard our mounting argument and said, “Steven, relax! You can have your own room. You’re more than welcome to it.”

Steven released my shirt and looked at Terry in surprise.

Terry strode up to us and smiled at Steven. “We’ve all had a rough time and I can’t bring myself to punish anyone by making them share a room with a brat like you anyway. You’ll take the smallest room.”

“I’ll take what I want!” shouted Steven. “You don’t call the shots here! Mrs. Harding will back me no matter what you say!”

Terry bloodied Steven’s nose, knocking him down. I smiled to myself. We were no longer in the forest.

“You’ll take what I give you,” Terry said icily as Steven howled in pain. “Until we can find a place to dump your worthless hide, I’m your legal guardian. You better get used to that quickly, Steven.”

Alia tried to heal Steven’s nose but he roughly pushed her aside and scampered down the corridor, out of sight. After allowing Steven enough time to recover some of his dignity, I found him and gave him free pick of the rooms. Showing some basic intelligence, he chose the smallest one on the second floor, which wasn’t all that tiny anyway, and we dragged the extra bedding to the other two rooms.

The only other person severely dissatisfied with the sleeping arrangements was, also predictably, Alia.

“You can sleep in Terry’s room upstairs, Ali,” I said when she begged me to let her stay with me. “You like Terry.”

“But we’ve always shared a room, Addy,”
moaned Alia, giving me her most injured look.

“But my room here is going to have four other boys in it,” I pointed out.

Alia stamped her feet.
“I don’t care!”

I shook my head and said firmly, “You’re ten years old, Alia. You can’t be afraid of the dark forever.”