Invisible Dawn Page 17

  A split-second later, he burst through the group of agents and sent them flying like bowling pins before disappearing into the shadows. Then they were set upon by floods of howling people that moved in the same distinct way. Each of the men attempted to target the transitory images as they swept by, but none were visible for long enough. However, as fast as they came, the massive group left. Their vicious howls dwindled in the distance. Each of the three men stood in shock. None had been harmed or even fired a shot, but a glance at Leodenin’s men left them in awe.

  The group of agents were now scattered over the forest floor. Some of the black clad men lurched to their feet, while another was slumped against a tree. They doubted he was even alive. Leodenin’s deep purple aura stood in the heart of the woods behind his men, and Jedd knew he would not pursue them alone. They now had the upper hand.

  Without another thought, Jedd gave the order. “Now! We move now!”

  He secured Madelin with his free arm, turned away from the agents, and scrambled through the soaked wetlands.

  Each step is that much farther away, he reassured himself.

  The agents dwindled to nothing as the group sped through the forest. A weight lifted from Jedd’s chest the further they got from Leodenin’s men. He felt like a football star he saw years ago, running in a game-winning touch down. The difference was that his end-zone was beyond sight and his prize more valuable.

  I’ve got Madelin, he wanted to yell, but did not dare. And we all have our lives.

  Jedd forced his feet onward with measured breaths, deeper into the dense marsh. Even the callous wind failed to tear the triumphant grin from his face.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 17: Patient Revenge

  Thursday, June 22nd

  Revenge can be beautiful, but if it’s your sole motivation you’re certain to fail. Have patience and use your skills to help others. This is a lesson that’s been hard to learn…

  ~Excerpt from the Journal of Madelin Boatweit~

  As Altran and his crew sped through the soggy night, the terrain changed. Although still saturated, the endless lake gave way to small island sanctuaries. Jedd glanced at his watch and smiled with the little energy he had left. It had faired well through everything and showed 2:00 a.m. He glanced back at Leodenin. The shifter’s aura was a speck on the horizon. They had put a great distance between them and Leodenin’s surviving men, and slowed to a stop on an eight-foot island.

  “This should do,” he muttered, breathless. “I saw two of Leodenin’s guys on the ground after that last attack … They weren’t moving.”

  Daniel nodded as he approached, exhaustion dragging at his limbs. It was as though even the last few inches were too far to ask a man to walk. Rather than complain, the stout soldier lifted Madelin’s unconscious form from Jedd and laid her on a soggy bed of moss and lichen. “Yeah,” he muttered. “That makes five left and that pale devil. We’re slowly whittlin’ away at them.”

  Jedd breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, we are. Soon we’ll outnumber them, assuming we last that long.”

  Giving the area a cursory look, Daniel added, “I think we made it far enough. A fire shouldn’t be a problem. Besides, that snivelin’ brat in the duster can already see you two.”

  Jedd smiled back. “That’s a good idea, but you know they can see you, too.” With his thoughts moving on, he left Daniel to consider the comment.

  “What’ll we use to make the fire? Everything’s wet,” Jedd wondered aloud.

  He seated himself next to Madelin’s prone form and checked her vitals. When he was satisfied that she was sleeping, he removed a handful of spare clothes from his duffel bag and placed the rolled bundle under her head. Then he tended to his own screaming muscles, massaging his aching legs and lower back.

  Rather than find a place to sit, Daniel gathered handfuls of moss from the islet edges. Roger scoured the trees for the few limbs that were not waterlogged. He broke the low hanging limbs from the trees and his arms were soon laden with green firewood.

  It might light, thought Jedd as he watched.

  Within minutes, the two men piled enough on the small island to last the night. Daniel’s knees popped as he fell to the ground in front of the wood. He withdrew a metal lighter from a pocket that looked as though it could crack coconuts. With a flick of his thumb, a flame sprang to life and cast his chilled fingers in a yellow glow. He smiled at the welcome warmth and bundled the moss together. A teepee of wood sheltered the small, fibrous ball. This wilderness know-how had come in handy more than once. It was the one thing his father had shown him that he was grateful for.

  Roger pulled out a six-inch Bowie knife of his own and whittled away at a limb as Daniel worked. The gambler tossed the shavings onto the small teepee. It took some time for the slivers and lichen to ignite, but soon a larger flame grew in the tented branches.

  Within the first half hour the men were seated, smiling through the flames. Their socks and shoes huddled near the dancing flames like a captive audience, awaiting an encore. Each man’s dire gaze spoke of the exhaustion they all felt. Conversation was limited as each tended to his own aches and pains.

  “I’ll take the first watch,” Jedd mumbled.

  The others succumbed to Queen Mab’s dreamy calls within minutes, their heads resting on anything available. Jedd chuckled when he noticed Roger’s head propped on one of the aged veteran’s wet boots.

  The next morning came too early for the group. Jedd was the first to wake as the sun peeked over the eastern tree line, casting its burning arms in far reaching waves of orange and red. The vibrant pastels swept across the sky, forcing the remnants of clouds to flee. Each of his joints complained like a squeaky wheel as he pushed himself up. Snores greeted him from the others.

  His mind began to clear and he looked around for a possible ambush, but was surprised to find the agent’s dark aura locked in the same place as last night. With a glance at his unconscious goddaughter, thirteen years of worry began to disappear. The porcelain-skinned beauty lay motionless, as though awaiting her charming prince. The calmness with which she slept could almost be mistaken for a gentle death, and Jedd’s breath caught in his throat at the thought. He looked closer, her tattered shirt lifted with each shallow breath. Relieved, Jedd exhaled the fear that had built up.

  He nudged her shoulder and her breathing altered. She slowly emerged from the poison-induced fog clouding her mind. The worry had plagued his sleep through the night and settled into the creases of his forehead for a prolonged stay. His concern diminished as she drifted to consciousness and her eyes fluttered to life.

  Madelin’s angelic voice was music to his ears as she tried to focus on the face hovering over her. “Hey,” she whispered with a smile, reassured that their short-lived meeting was not a figment of her imagination. As the abruptness with which the meeting ended slipped into her thoughts, Madelin’s face contorted in confusion.

  “Where are we? What happened? Is everyone okay?” Each question stumbled over the heels of the one previous.

  Jedd replied with a deep, reassuring murmur, “It’s fine. Everything’s fine. We took care of things and now you’re safe.” The anxiety in her voice eased. “Do you remember the attack?”

  “Not really,” she replied, searching his face for answers.

  “Well, they shot you with enough tranquilizer to put down a horse.” The flatness of his statement startled her but as he continued, his hands emphasized what she missed. The tale unfolded under her gaze and she relived each event for the first time. Even knowing the outcome, she was still caught up in his words.

  By the end of the story the others began to stir from their damp beds. Daniel knelt a foot from the burning embers. He stirred them with a branch until he resurrected the fire. He added a handful of kindling and fed the coals the last of the wood. The flames responded in kind, dancing up the moist bark. Roger took a seat beside him, massaging his hands over the fire. When the story telling session ended, he pulled out his pl
aying cards and shuffled the deck. The cards whizzed through his fingers, and he spoke over the smoking fire.

  “So, Maddy, how you feelin’ this mornin'?”

  “Not too bad, just a little woozy. How about you … what’d you say your name was?”

  “Doin’ okay,” he grumbled. “The name’s Roger. I just miss my mornin' cup of Joe.”

  “Hell, I’d even take a cup of rotgut this mornin’,” Daniel added, his words barely tinged with sarcasm.

  “Joe?” asked Madelin.

  “You know, coffee.” The question seemed absurd, but Jedd’s earlier explanation came to mind and comprehension dawned in his eyes. “Ah crap, yeah, there ain’t much you remember, is there?” Pity consumed his face as he gazed at her. Any doubt about the validity of Jedd’s story was washed away the moment he stepped into this waterlogged world.

  Jedd answered for her before she could dwell on the missing events of her life. “Well things didn’t go the way we wanted up to now, but I have no doubt we’ll fix what they did.”

  Madelin turned to him, her voice filled with amazement. “How?”

  “You remember the dream that troubled you so much the night we met?” Jedd’s voice was also filled with concern and pity, having relived it with her.

  Madelin’s eyes probed for answers as he spoke of events known only to her. “Y-yes, but how do you know about it?”

  “I wasn’t sure it was you, but I saw that you were troubled. So I drifted into the dream with you,” he answered with hesitation. The rest of his explanation flowed out in a rush. “It was the first time I’d traveled like that, and I wasn’t sure what I was doing, but it happened. I didn’t mean to.” He watched the words sink in and her condemning gaze turned from suspicion to intrigue. “The point though, is that it wasn’t a dream. It was a memory. It means that your memories are still there, we just have to unlock them.”

  “I … I kind of figured that was the case.”

  His eyes widened. It was more than he’d hoped. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve had that dream almost every night and it’s more real than anything I’ve ever dealt with in the hospital. Up until the last couple of days, nothing seemed real except for that dream.” Her words were accented with passion and frustration. “Also, I had Deedee.”

  “Deedee?” Roger asked, the conversation absorbing all three men.

  “Yeah, Deedee’s my stuffed teddy bear. Helga gave it to me, but in the dream I’m holding it so tight that I know something’s missing. It was once a part of my life, a happy life. I know that much…” Despairing over the loss, her words trailed off.

  “Well you’re right and I think it’s time you learned what really happened,” Jedd chimed in.

  With a swift glance at Daniel and a nod toward a copse of trees standing atop another mossy mound, the two men understood the privacy he sought. They rose and prepared to leave.

  “How far is that son of a bitch, Father?” asked Roger as he stretched his arms in the warm sunlight. The sun’s rays helped to refresh him, but they were subdued here, as though filtered through a sieve.

  “They still haven’t moved,” replied Jedd, glancing back the way they came. The only thing that had changed that morning was the distance the sun stretched over the horizon.

  Daniel made the final farewell with a knowing wink at Madelin. “Well, I think I’ll just step over to those trees and keep watch.” He turned to Roger and asked, “You still got that pocket knife?”

  Roger’s eyebrows flexed in confusion, but he nodded.

  “Do me a favor and sterilize it in the fire.”

  Roger’s gaze landed on the seeping bandage at Daniel’s side and his confusion disappeared. He rotated the blade through the fire a few times. Then, they swept past Madelin. Daniel shot her an affectionate smile. “We won’t be far.” As he stepped into the marshy bog, he explained to the gambler what needed to be done.

  Once they were alone, Jedd turned his attention to Madelin’s longing gaze. “Your right, your life was ripped asunder that night. The agency I told you about is called PASTOR. They oversee the capture and memory conditioning of children with abilities like yours. Then, they train the children to do and think what the agency wants. In the end, they’re just trying to create loyal operatives with the capabilities you possess. If they had their way, you’d be just like Father Leodenin.”

  “And how do they get these children?” The question weighed on Madelin’s mind, and Jedd could see the answer she feared looming in her expression.

  “I’m not going to sugar coat it. After they find out about a child, through spies or whatever other means, they approach the family with a financial offer, in exchange for the child and all evidence of its existence. If the family refuses, they take more drastic measures,” he replied, pausing for effect. “The agency doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer and they aren’t governed by the same laws as you and I.”

  After a brief moment, Madelin asked the question that had been rattling around in her head. “Is that what happened to my family?”

  “Yes,” he replied and waited for the answer to sink in. Tears streamed down her face, forming rivers that conformed to the contours of her blotched skin.

  “What exactly did they do?” she asked, the inability to remember overcoming her desire to huddle in a nonexistent corner and cry for eternity.

  “Do you really want to know the specifics?”

  “Yes…” Pausing, she sorted her thoughts and carefully chose her words. “I have to know, especially if they did what I think.”

  He nodded, understanding the conflict battling within her. “When your parents refused the offer, the suited men left. But it wasn’t long … in fact, that very night, the men returned. They burst into your parents’ lake house while they were both asleep. Minutes later, they emerged with you wailing for your mother. Then they set the house on fire. I never saw your parents come out. The rest you know from the memory. That was your house and those agents killed your parents.”

  Her tears fell like the ominous weather of the previous night. Jedd had not intended to hurt her, but she needed to know what lengths PASTOR would go to, and what they did.

  “I checked the news the next day. The reporter said that your entire family died in the fire, including you. According to the media, there was no suspicion of foul play. Your parents never emerged, so I assume they knocked them out with the same drug they used on you last night.”

  “How did you see it?” she asked.

  “Your father, Lane, was my closest friend. We met in college and I even introduced him to your mother, Waverly.” A smile creased his lips at the memory. “We were so close that he asked me and my wife to be your godparents. After the meeting with the two negotiators, your father called me over.” He hesitated before divulging his own shameful contribution to their deaths. Then, he summoned the courage to carry on. “I had just left after speaking with your parents about the visit. They asked me to watch over them for the night, and take care of you if anything happened.” Jedd searched the ground in front of him as the story went on. “I agreed and was pulled off at the side of the road that night, overlooking the house through the trees … It all happened so fast that I couldn’t do a thing. Watching you standing there in your nightgown … the tears streaking down your face … it … it was heartbreaking.”

  His eyes met her tear-filled stare. “I’ve always loved you like my own daughter, but I didn’t do anything that night. It’s unforgivable. I wish I’d done something, but even today I don’t know what. I just wish I’d done something … anything. Since then, all I’ve done is try and find you. Finally I did, and now here we are.” By the end of the confession ,salty droplets flowed from both their eyes like broken faucets.

  “I know it’s hard to hear, but I think you know it’s the truth,” he whispered, caressing her head. He obscured the waterfall flowing over her cheek with a thumb. “The one thing we have now is each other and I’ll always be here for you. Do you want a
few minutes to yourself?” She nodded and Jedd slipped away, leaving Madelin to dwell on her broken past by the warmth of the campfire.

  Jedd entered the shaded grove the ex-servicemen had ducked into and stumbled onto a sight he expected, but still did not believe. Roger knelt over Daniel’s prone body, a stick clenched between the older man’s teeth as he stared at the sky. Roger clutched a bloody pocket knife in a white knuckled grip. With the other hand, he removed what was left of the bullet from the soldier’s midsection.

  “Now, how in the heck you lucked out like this, I just don’t know,” muttered the Cajun in disbelief. “It’s like your stomach lining caught the bullet. There’s no serious damage or anything.” To emphasize his point, he flipped the Bowie knife around and tapped the end of the handle on Daniel’s stomach. A dull thud echoed from the open wound. “See, it’s like a rock.”

  Daniel’s gaze turned from the heavens to Roger’s curious face. The impact vibrated through his midsection. Irritated, he added through clenched teeth, “Dammi', jus' ge' on wi' it. Qui' payin' aroun'.”

  Daniel’s voice pulled the gambler from his wondering thoughts. Blood flowed from the wound, reminding him of his unfinished task. Roger set the smashed projectile aside and grabbed folded wads of Daniel’s wafer-thin shirt. Pressing two of them over the wound, they stemmed the stream of blood but were soon saturated. Roger added a few more and Daniel held them against the wound. The gambler soaked up the excess blood running down the ex-mercenary’s side and then, tied a large piece around the veteran’s waist to hold the makeshift bandage in place.

  Roger exhaled the nervous breath he had held since the surgery began, and broke the silence, “Not bad for an old sailor who spent most of his time in the mess hall, if I do say so myself. I’ll bet you five bucks that’ll hold her.” His smile met that of the pained veteran’s.