Threader origins, p.18
Threader Origins, page 18
“But I don’t know anything. I told them I had no clue how I got here.”
“Rebecca didn’t believe that.” Enton sighed again and sat back on the bed. “You have the potential to control Threads that many have never Seen before. She didn’t know that when she asked Bill to train you, but she’s a fool if she didn’t see it at all. And she’s no fool. Maybe she thought if the Qabal could control that power . . .” Enton paused, emulating Darwin’s shrug. “But until you learn to use the Threads, to control them, you’re as weak and vulnerable as a newborn.”
“Could I control them enough to go back home?”
“I don’t know. No one has been able to cross worlds besides you. That I know of.”
Darwin turned and looked into Enton’s eyes. “That you know of?”
“It is a big world, Darwin, and we lost the ability to communicate with most of it a long time ago. For all I know, no one is left in Europe or Australia. Or anywhere. Or there could be people in Bolivia that have done it. We just don’t know.”
The curtain was thrust aside and Teresa stood there panting. “Qabal. Lots of them. We need to get out of here.”
* * *
• • •
“Qabal? Are you sure?” Enton rose from the bed and pushed past Darwin as he headed for the front door.
“Of course—”
“Damn. How did I not See them? That’s twice they’ve pulled the wool over my eyes. How did you See them? Where are my Watchers?”
“I didn’t,” Teresa replied, “our lookouts saw them. You guys rely on the Threads so much, you’ve forgotten how to use your own damn eyes. They’re out by the old mall.”
“Show me.”
Darwin followed as Teresa led Enton out the door. Enton stopped and turned back as they walked through the living room.
“Stay here.”
Darwin stopped in his tracks. “What?”
“Stay here. Once I see what’s happening, I’ll come back.” Enton continued out the front door, catching up to Teresa just outside.
Darwin felt himself come to a slow boil. What the hell was that about? He hadn’t done anything in SafeHaven when they’d been attacked, and he wasn’t about to make the same mistake here. He didn’t know anyone who lived here besides Teresa, but there was no way he was going to let anyone get hurt through his inaction again.
By the time he reached the front door, Enton and Teresa had jogged to the end of the street, moving against the flow of people walking in the opposite direction. In contrast to what he had seen in SafeHaven, everyone here seemed calm. There was none of the mad, panicked rush. These people were apparently prepared to leave, to move on at any time. Each person had a backpack, even the smaller children, though sticking out of the top of one was the head of a teddy bear, its glass eyes staring back into the crowd.
He picked a path between the buildings and the moving people and ran against the stream, trying to catch up to Enton and Teresa. Turning the corner they’d gone around, he automatically scanned the street sign as he ran past. Fauna Drive. To his left he saw Enton disappear between two houses where the road ahead curved. He ran faster, already feeling the effects of the dehydration. It shouldn’t be that hard to catch up to an old man.
Between the houses stood an empty children’s slide, the plastic worn smooth by use. Just beyond that was an eight-foot-tall chain link fence. Teresa held a section of link aside, allowing Enton to crawl through. She smiled as Darwin got close, and he almost stopped, taken aback by how beautiful she was. Once Enton was through, she stayed, holding the chain link for him.
“Thanks.”
“Any time,” she said.
When Darwin was through, he held the fence for her.
“I told you to stay back there and wait for me,” Enton said.
“And I told you I wasn’t your son. You have no right to tell me what to do.”
Enton shook his head in exasperation. “You have no clue. This is the Qabal we’re talking about. These people want you dead, and I’m trying to stop that from happening.”
Darwin straightened his back and stared at Enton. “Yeah, and I’m not going to stand around and wait for them to try. Like you said, it’s me they’re trying to kill. If I don’t have a right to be involved, who does?”
“Okay, guys,” Teresa said, “if you want to see them, then we should move now. You can argue all you want later.” She pushed on through the remnants of a second fence line, following a dirt path overshadowed by tall, white-barked trees. “We’ll go past the reservoir to the road. There’s a bit of a hill covered by scrub. We should get a half-decent view of the mall from there.”
They jogged past an old public washroom adjacent to a small parking lot. To the right, just beyond the parking lot and through some trees, Darwin saw the glint of sunshine off of water. Past the washrooms, the landscape changed to brown and gray scrub. They continued to jog, following the dirt path past an old sign warning them to watch for snakes as it meandered past the scraggly growth. He struggled to breathe but wasn’t about to say anything.
It didn’t take long to reach the top of the small knoll, and as they crawled the last few feet, staying below the height of the plants, he could tell the view was pretty crappy. In front of them was a large four-way intersection, and just past that the dull slate of a huge parking lot. Beyond the empty parking lot, he could barely make out people milling around in small groups.
“My god!” Enton muttered. “Even now, I can’t See them. How are they hiding themselves from my Sight?”
“Like I said, you guys have forgotten how to just use your eyes. You rely too much on the Threads,” said Teresa.
Despite her comment, Darwin took a deep breath and allowed the Threads to come into view. He had no idea what he was looking for, or what he was doing, but he knew he was able to follow the Threads. He’d done it back in the mountains with Wally and Carlos. He found one moving in the right direction and rode it in.
From what he could See, everything felt normal. Then again, he didn’t really know what normal was. The Threads moved randomly, weaving a pattern that he couldn’t quite understand. Slowly, he followed them further out, riding the Threads without manipulating them. If the Thread he was on drifted off course, he moved gently to the next one, and the next, until he found one that took him closer to the people below.
Darwin closed his eyes, concentrating on the Threads instead of relying on vision. For a split second, he thought about Teresa’s admonishment. But he’d already used his eyes. Now he wanted to know what he could See. He opened his senses to the Threads more, pulling on the theories Bill had taught him long ago. Without warning, things were different. He could feel the asphalt under him. But that was impossible, he was lying on his stomach in the dirt. His mouth filled with a bitter taste, and a dark oily smell hit his nose. As the Thread moved, the texture of the concrete changed for just a second, smoother and . . . it tasted blue. It was like his synapses were misfiring, changing color to taste, texture to smell. He had the distinct impression of old paint. This was different. He’d gotten used to the Threads and the images, but this was disconcerting.
The Thread he was riding angled off, a curve to the right followed by another one to the left, returning to its original path. It was a short ripple, languid, feeling like the Threads’ natural movement. But something was off. Something didn’t ring true. He had no idea what made him think that. Leaving the Thread, he moved to other ones until he found one that would bring him back to the oddity. The Thread rippled again, but this time he got the distinct taste of blood in his mouth and the smell of a dark heavy cloth pulled against his face. The cloth tasted old and dirty.
Blood and cloth? A body? Darwin opened his eyes. He couldn’t see much from here, but the people seemed clearer and closer.
He rode the Thread back to the intersection, passing through a wave of intense heat, and closed his Sight, suddenly dizzy. His stomach roiled and he pulled himself back into a crouch, breathing roughly through his mouth.
“That was amazingly well done. Even I couldn’t follow you,” Enton said.
Teresa knelt beside him, one arm across his shoulders and a hand holding his drooping head. “Are you all right?”
Enton pushed through, opening a flask and holding it to Darwin’s mouth. “He’s obviously not used to using Threads. He’s got some basic skills but doesn’t have the stamina for it yet.” He raised the flask to Darwin’s lips. “Drink.”
Darwin leaned back and took a swig. Fiery liquid burned down his throat and he gagged, wiping the tears from his eyes.
“Good. You need to be more careful. Until you get more training, you’re liable to go insane doing what you just did. Bill must have told you an untrained mind can lose the path entirely if it’s not too careful. Hell, a trained mind can. I’ve seen it happen.”
“Here they come.” Teresa’s voice had gotten small and thin.
Darwin got his voice back and looked at the parking lot. He couldn’t see them, but he knew they were there. “They have Skends.”
* * *
• • •
As Darwin spoke, groups of people and Skends streamed out of the old Sam’s Club building, heading toward the hill they were on.
“We need to get out of here, now,” Enton said. He pulled Darwin to his feet, catching him as his legs buckled. “Come on, girl, help me. I am too damn old to do this by myself.”
The Skends moved inhumanly fast, crossing the parking lot and intersection and starting to move up the hill.
Teresa put her hand under Darwin’s arm and helped Enton so they supported Darwin’s weight together. He tried to move his legs under his body, but they barely listened to him. The two of them dragged him yards down the hill before he got some control back.
“We’re not going to make it at this rate. I’m going to have to hole us out of here. You take Darwin through, I’ll follow you.”
“I can’t,” said Teresa. “My family—”
“Your mother and brother are still in SafeHaven. You’ll never see them again if we don’t move. I’ll bring us back when things are settled.”
To Darwin, the hole seemed to appear instantly. He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs that thickened and slowed his thoughts. Where was the delay, the preparation he saw when Wally or Carlos created holes?
The sounds of brush and scrub being trampled crested the hill behind them.
“Quickly now, get him through. I’ll start dismantling the hole so it will be gone by the time they get here.”
“But what about the—”
Enton interrupted again. “I am not daft, girl. I’ll be right behind you.”
Darwin felt a push on his back and Teresa’s hand tightened under his arm. He teetered into the hole. The cold came in a sudden rush, biting into his skin and searing his lungs. When the warmth came back, the hand under his arm let go and he fell to the ground, his head resting on Teresa’s shoulder. The biting cold had cleared his head at least. He rolled over as quickly as he could to watch the hole. He knew there wasn’t much he could do if one of the Qabal, or worse a Skend, came through. But somehow, knowing seemed to make it better.
The hole started closing, destabilizing to the point he could barely See the Thread that reached back through it. Enton popped out, his eyes wide, the whites filled with a pattern of fine red lines. His face had drained of color, and the hole closed behind him.
Not all of him had come through.
* * *
• • •
“I . . . I may have cut . . . cut that one a bit close.” Enton’s voice sounded disjointed and faint. His eyes fluttered shut and his breathing deepened.
Teresa sat up, shaking tiny shards of ice from her hair. “Is it always like that?”
Darwin looked at her. “Yes. Help me with Enton.”
“Enton? Why? What . . . ? Oh.”
Her gaze moved down to his legs, and Darwin could see the realization of what had happened displayed on her face. Enton was missing half of his left foot and all of his right. The cold had frozen the wounds, sealing the blood vessels instantly. There wasn’t a single drop of blood on Enton or his clothes.
“Christ.” Teresa paused. “I don’t have the training to deal with hole injuries.” She paused again. “I need to seal the cuts before they thaw, or he’ll bleed out before I can even try to help him.”
“Whatever you need to do, I think it’s going to have to wait,” said Darwin, thinking of how quickly Rebecca and Frank had followed them. “I don’t know if it’s possible to follow holes after they’re closed, but if it is, we’re sitting ducks.” Darwin stood and his body swayed on shaky legs. He bent down to grab one of Enton’s arms. “Come on, grab the other one.”
“You’re not going to make it; you look like can barely stand.”
“I have to. If they come through . . . the farther away we are, the better. So let’s move!”
At his shouted command, Teresa jumped and grabbed Enton’s other arm. They both pulled, dragging Enton down the weed-choked street and around a corner.
“Do you know where we are?” Teresa asked.
He looked around. Widely spaced houses stood on either side of the curbless street. Wherever they were, the place didn’t look like it had seen a human being in years. Wilderness had taken over the yards and houses, encroaching on the street in waves. In another year or two, there wouldn’t be much trace of humanity left. Still, the whole feel of the place screamed small town and the air had a cold edge to it. He could feel winter in it. The leaves on the trees had changed from green to a bright yellow, though most of them still clung desperately to the branches. They had definitely moved north. None of that gave him the answer to her question.
“No, but he does,” he said, tilting his head toward Enton. “Let’s get him into one of the houses. Find a place to rest. If the Qabal were going to come, I think they would have done it by now.”
They headed toward the closest house and walked through the open door, laying Enton on the dirty hardwood floor of the living room.
“Let’s get him on the couch,” said Teresa, looking back at his feet. Blood flowed from the stump from dragging him across the street, and the heel of his left foot was scraped. Somewhere along their path, Enton had lost what was left of his shoe.
“I need some water and clean towels,” Teresa said.
Darwin reached for Enton’s flask. “It’s not water, but it may help sterilize the cuts while I’m looking. I’ll see if I can find something in the kitchen.”
He found some tea towels in a kitchen cupboard and grabbed a couple from the middle of the pile, where the dust and dirt hadn’t gotten to them yet. The mice had, and feces and nests of dead grass and other debris fell to the floor. Hanging on a hook over the sink was another towel.
“There’s no clean towels,” he said, walking back into the living room.
Teresa had rolled the bottom of Enton’s pants up. She gripped his shirt just above and below the shoulder and pulled, straining to rip the material apart. It finally gave and she poured the contents of the flask over it. Enton didn’t wake up when she carefully began to clean the dirt from the cuts. “I’ll need some water. If you could find a way to boil it, it would be better.”
Darwin moved toward the front door. “I’ll see what I can find.” What he really wanted was to be alone for a while. He could feel his defenses collapsing under the stress, and he didn’t want anyone around when it happened.
Teresa, bent over Enton’s feet, didn’t reply.
He decided to turn left leaving the front door. They had come from the other direction when they’d holed in, and there didn’t seem to be too much that way. With some luck, he’d find a small store or gas station that hadn’t been completely ransacked. He hoped these small towns didn’t have the frenzy and panic of the big cities. Maybe there would be something left he could use.
It didn’t take him long. The street dead-ended on Front Street, marked by a bright green sign covered in withered vines. Wherever they’d ended up, the plants loved it. It almost felt like he was in a jungle. A small grocery store sat on the corner with two cars still parked at an angle in front of it. Except for the flat tires, they looked surprisingly ready to go. The store windows were intact, and the door was closed. Taking that to be a good sign, he leaned against the wood siding and looked through the glass.
He waited a few minutes, scanning the dark interior. The place looked empty, just like the rest of the town he’d passed through. He tried the door. It was unlocked, and when he walked in, a tiny brass bell tinkled overhead. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw the shelves weren’t bare and breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe it was small-town courtesy that stopped people from taking everything. Whatever it was, Darwin didn’t have that problem. He grabbed a couple of bags from behind the open cash register and walked through the store filling them.
He only made it through half of the tiny space before he felt the walls caving in and he collapsed to the floor near empty wire racks that once held potato chips and other junk food. The tears fell hot and fast and a chasm opened in his chest, filled with memories of what his life should have been like. The drudgery of classes filled with nameless faces and professors droning at the front. Being able to talk to his dad about anything. He’d know what to say that would send Darwin back on a solid path, back to being able to deal with life.
He didn’t have that now, and he missed the connection so badly the pain was almost physical.
Trying to pull himself together, he collected the items that had fallen out of the bag, jamming them back in with barely controlled anger. Enough of this bullshit. His dad wasn’t here—would never be here—and it was up to him to pull himself together. He was supposed to be an adult. And he wasn’t alone, was he? Enton had saved both him and Teresa and was paying the price for it. He hadn’t needed to do that, he could have saved himself, but he didn’t. Enton wasn’t quite a friend, but he wasn’t somebody to be pushed away either.
