Marked In Flesh

CHAPTER 55

Sunsday, Sumor 17

Meg smiled at Simon and Vlad.

“There is something behind that smile,” Vlad said.

“Like the first time you see a striped pretty and don’t learn what it is until you poke it with a paw and it sprays you,” Simon said.

She wasn’t smiling now. “Did you just compare me to a skunk?”

Now they smiled.

“To be fair, you don’t smell like one anymore,” Simon said.

“What?”

“Why did you want to see us, Meg?” Vlad asked.

Having witnessed a scene with Twyla Montgomery and some of the children earlier this morning, it was clear to Meg that throwing what Merri Lee called a hissy fit didn’t get you what you wanted. And if doing that didn’t work with Twyla, it certainly wouldn’t work with Simon and Vlad—especially if they didn’t understand what she was doing and she had to explain it. Which would be embarrassing. And not mature.

Amused at herself, which made her feel steadier, Meg laid some cards on the table.

“Meg?” Sharpness in Simon’s voice. Sharpness in Vlad’s eyes.

“I’m not drawing cards for a vision,” she explained. “I’d like a favor. Two favors, actually.”

“That must be why you asked for two of us to come here,” Vlad said.

She pointed to the cards she had taken out of a deck on the sorting room table. One card was a smiley face. Another was a sad face. The third was the question mark she’d drawn once before when she asked about Lakeside’s future. “These cards are from a game. Some of them got mixed up with the prophecy cards.”

“How did that happen?” Simon asked.

She shook her head. She wasn’t going to be a tattletale. She knew that Merri Lee and Ruth had already talked to Eve Denby and Twyla and Sierra Montgomery about the importance of the children not going into the Liaison’s Office unsupervised and, especially, not playing with the cards.

“That’s not important. The important thing is that I think these actually are useful for revealing prophecies without me making a cut.”

She had their complete attention now.

“But these particular cards . . .” She went to the drawer and randomly pulled five cards that had different backs, which meant they were from different decks. She turned them over and lined them up above the first three cards. “Do you see? These are from different decks of cards—some reveal the natural world and some are illustrations of human or urban things. Even though they’re different, they complement each other. Do you see?”

Vlad came around to her side of the table. He picked up the deck of game cards and fanned them to see more of the images. “So you want a deck of cards with these images but done in a style that would fit in with the rest of the decks you’re currently using?”

“Yes.” Eventually she would have to pare down the number of cards that would become the Trailblazer deck of prophecy cards, but for now she didn’t want to limit possibilities while she was still exploring what the cassandra sangue might be able to do with this way of seeing visions.

“Could the Hope pup draw those?” Simon asked, cocking his head.

Meg felt something run over her skin. Not strong enough to be pins and needles or prickles, but definitely a response to the question. “I don’t know. Could we ask her?”

“We can get a message to Jackson.”

“Could you purchase another deck of these?” Vlad asked, waggling the fanned cards. “Hope would need the images for reference.”

Meg said she would see about getting another deck. She didn’t mention that she was going to ask Eve Denby where to buy one.

“That was an easy favor,” Simon said.

Of course, there was no guarantee that the cards would be available. With people now considering what they needed instead of what they would like to have, a children’s card game wouldn’t be a high priority when companies had to choose what to ship by truck or train.

“What’s the second favor?” Simon asked.

“Could you find a job for Harry, the deliveryman? He quit his job at Everywhere Delivery because the company became Everywhere Human Delivery. But he still needs to work.” Sensing resistance, Meg hurried on. “You wouldn’t have to find a place for Harry and his wife to live. If he could use one of our vans, he could be the Courtyard’s deliveryman and pick up orders we place with companies in Lakeside. Or maybe you could talk to Jerry Sledgeman about hiring Harry to work for him and make deliveries between Lakeside and the River Road Community.”

“Meg . . .” Simon sighed. “We can’t keep taking in strays. On top of the human pack, we’re already letting Officer Debany’s parents shop in the Market Square. Same with Officer MacDonald’s parents. And Captain Burke. And Commander Gresh and his mate and young. When a pack gets too big, it needs to split so that part of it finds new territory and new prey. We’re looking after a lot of humans now. And Merri Lee and Ruthie will have pups, and they’ll need food too, after they’re weaned.”

“They’re not having pups yet,” Meg muttered. But Simon had a point. After promising to give her a daily summary of what was happening in Lakeside and the rest of Thaisia, her friends urged her to avoid the news and the newspaper until things calmed down. Since just looking out the front windows and watching the cars drive by on Main Street made her skin buzz viciously, she didn’t think she would be able to resist the razor if she had more contact with the world outside of the Courtyard.

“Just two more?” she pleaded. “Just Harry and his wife?”

Simon and Vlad looked at each other.

“Everyone has to earn their part of the meat,” Simon finally said. “Everyone in a pack has a job, and that has to include any humans who want part of the food we have here or can bring in.”

“Harry and his wife, but no more,” Vlad said. “We’re helping to support the River Road Community too. Don’t forget that.”

They wouldn’t be trying to support any of those humans if they hadn’t taken her in and accepted her as one of them. “No more.” She hesitated, and wondered if it was cowardly not to give the message directly. “Could you tell Captain Burke something?”

Vlad nodded.

Meg tapped the question-mark card on the table. “This card came up once before, when I wondered about Lakeside’s future.”

“I remember,” Simon said. “Future undecided.”

“I overheard Agent O’Sullivan say he and Captain Burke had an appointment with the mayor, and I asked myself what Captain Burke should tell the mayor about Lakeside.”

Vlad drew in a slow breath. “Future undecided?”

She nodded.

“You should make the call,” Simon told Vlad. “Burke owes you one or two favors.”

“He owes you too, but I’ll call him.”

After Vlad left, Simon rested his forearms on the table, his arm lightly brushing against hers.

“Talk to the human pack about paper for writing letters,” he said. “Not just paper the females like, but paper that won’t cause the males to cough up hairballs if they have to use it.”

“People don’t write that many letters. They use e-mail . . . Oh. Electronic mail stays within a region now.”

“There are ways to send messages between the regions, like we’re going to do to send a message to Jackson, but those messages aren’t private anymore. The Intuits or terra indigene manning the communications cabins will see them. Humans aren’t going to be able to attack again like they did under the HFL.”

“Simon? Did a lot of places disappear?”

“Here in Thaisia? I don’t know. It’s hard to tell right now if the places—and the humans who lived there—are gone, or if a place isn’t under human control anymore and that’s why it’s not being counted among the human places.” He thought for a moment. “You gave Vlad a message for Captain Burke. Anything I should tell Lieutenant Montgomery?”

Scooping up the cards that were on the table, Meg returned them to the drawer that held the prophecy cards.

What should Simon tell Lieutenant Montgomery about Lakeside?

At first there was nothing. Then the prickles began. Meg closed her eyes and let her fingers search for the answer. When she chose three cards that produced the strongest prickles, she brought them back to the table and turned them over.

Wolf card. The telephone/telegraph key card. And a card that showed heavy surf striking the shore.

“I don’t know what this means,” Meg said. Then Water walked in from the back room, leaving wet footsteps on the floor.

The Elemental said, “I have a message for the Wolfgard.”

“Give me a minute,” Simon replied.

Water nodded and left.

“I guess Water is supposed to give you the message,” Meg said.

“Huh.” Simon studied the cards. “You’re getting pretty good with those things. Do the prickles go away after you choose the ones that answer a question?”

She nodded. “Unless there is more that can’t be seen with the cards.”

“So you don’t have to cut anymore.”

If he believed that, he would be more upset when she did cut. “Using the cards doesn’t produce the euphoria.”

“They also don’t cause pain or leave a scar,” he countered.

The new scar along her jaw bothered all of the terra indigene more than the other scars she’d added since living in the Courtyard. The cards released prophecies but did nothing for the craving that was entwined with the addiction to cut. Still, she had resisted using the razor for almost four weeks.

“Don’t keep Water waiting,” she said.

When he went outside to talk to the Elemental, Meg returned the cards to the drawer.

No, the cards didn’t help with the craving for the euphoria. Nothing but cutting could satisfy that.

Prickles filled her fingers. She ran her hands over the cards in the drawer until she found the one she needed to see.

She studied the card. Studied it and studied it.

A man and woman, standing close together in a garden under a full moon. Except the moon was shaped like the symbol for a heart.

Uneasy, Meg put the card back in the drawer. Romance? No. Men . . . Bad things had happened in the compound, things that were veiled in her memory but remembered by her body. So that couldn’t produce anything like the euphoria.

Could it?

She closed the drawer and tried to ignore the light prickles that felt more like fingertips brushing the skin on the inside of her thighs.

Simon carefully slit open the box of books, pulled out the packing slip, and checked off the copies of each book before putting them on the shelves in the stock room. Everything he’d ordered before the storm suddenly showed up, making him wonder if railcars that were carrying merchandise for the terra indigene had been left on a siding somewhere. Now it was advantageous to ship merchandise to the Others because any properly sized train that had an earth native freight car had a better chance of safely passing through the wild country. “All freight or no freight” seemed to be the new motto.

Fine by him. Blair and Henry were taking two of the Courtyard’s vehicles to make a second cargo run, which made him think Meg might be right about hiring the Harry to pick up deliveries.

The back door opened. Michael Debany eased around the boxes piled willy-nilly.

“You want me to break down the empty boxes?” Debany asked.

“Break down?”

“Slit them at the seams and flatten the cardboard.”

Simon pondered that for a moment. Did the Others have a use for flat cardboard? “No. We can use the boxes to ship the books we’re sending to other places.”

Debany lifted a handful of books out of the top box and handed them to Simon without marking the packing slip. It reminded him of Sam offering toys in an effort to engage an adult because he was unhappy about something. Since Simon didn’t know why Debany was unhappy, he placed the books together on a shelf instead of where they were supposed to go. He would mark the packing slip after the human went away.

“I heard from Bee. Barb. My sister?”

Wondering why that would make the man unhappy, Simon said, “Isn’t that good?”

“It is, yes. She’s settling in and busy.” Debany’s laugh sounded forced. “They gave her a horse. She’ll never come back.”

Simon stopped trying to work and studied the police officer. “Some young stay with their pack, but others have to leave their home territory to find a place in a new pack or to find a mate. Humans travel for those reasons too.”

“You found a place where she can do the kind of work she wanted to do. I appreciate it.”

“No, you don’t.”

This laugh sounded more natural. “I do, but I don’t.” Debany sighed. “It’s so far away now, you know? A couple of months ago, Bennett would have been just as far away, but Mom and Dad would have been talking about making a visit to see Barb’s new home. They would have sent an e-mail a couple of times a week to keep in touch and make sure she was doing okay. But now, they can’t call to say hello or receive a quick response that would reassure them. It’s different now.”

“Yes, it’s different now.” Debany was thinking about quick communication, but Simon was thinking about Joe Wolfgard, whose howl wouldn’t be heard again. “But you gave your sister labels and stamps, and Tolya and Jesse Walker gave her postcards and paper to write letters.” And knowing the girl’s connection to the Lakeside Courtyard, Tolya would keep an eye on her. Not sure if that would be a comfort, he didn’t mention it.

“Merri says if I want to receive letters, I’d better start writing letters.”

This he would mention. “Postcards are better unless you’re writing a long letter or it’s something private. There are Crows and Ravens helping to sort mail now in places like Bennett, and they like looking at the pictures and reading the messages.” Seeing the look on Debany’s face, he shrugged. “There’s more than one kind of shiny.”

A bump and a mutter had them looking toward the front of the stock room.

“Lieutenant,” Debany said.

“Michael.” Montgomery looked around at all the boxes. “Back orders?”

“Orders and back orders,” Simon replied. “And two more vans full of boxes coming in.”

“Guess I’ll get ready for work,” Debany said.

“This afternoon we’re finally signing the papers and handing over the money for the two apartment buildings. By tomorrow, Merri Lee can choose her den, and Eve Denby will help her clean it and paint it.” Since Montgomery was listening, Simon resisted the urge to ask about mating customs and if Debany would be moving into the den too. The sex part of mating and the living in the same den were different things for humans. He and Meg spent as much time living in the same place—and sleeping in the same bed—as Debany and Merri Lee, but Meg was still more like a maiden female who wasn’t ready for the sex part of mating.

But she was very good at play.

Shaking off those thoughts—and admitting he wanted to postpone giving Montgomery the message he’d been asked to deliver—he realized Debany had slipped out and now it was Montgomery who was handing him books.

The man looked older and weighed down by some hard truths.

“Miss Twyla nipped the pups this morning,” he offered.

Montgomery smiled at that. “My mama doesn’t take back talk from anyone. Lizzy should have known better.”

“She will the next time.”

“We always think there will be enough time, but that’s not always true, is it?”

Simon waited, but when Montgomery just held the books, he reached over and took them. “Sometimes a pack doesn’t catch meat in time to save all its members if they’ve been hungry for too long, but you’ll bring back food in time.” Wasn’t that the most important consideration right now? The farms that belonged to the terra indigene and were worked by Intuits in exchange for part of the bounty hadn’t suffered much from the storms and the Elders’ sweep through human places, and the Courtyard’s gardens had survived and were growing quickly during these warm, sunny days. While the Others could easily adapt to eating whatever the current season would provide, he and the rest of the Business Association were aware that humans weren’t used to thinking in those terms.

“The reports coming from Brittania and the west coast of Afrikah . . .” Montgomery reached for more books but didn’t pick up any. “Cel-Romano is really gone. All those cities, all those people. Millions of people dead. Whole cities turned into charnel houses. Whole cultures destroyed beyond recovery. No survivors.” The last words were barely a whisper.

“There are always survivors, Lieutenant,” Simon snapped. Didn’t mean there would be enough survivors for the species to continue, but he wasn’t going to share that with Montgomery. Not when he had a message to deliver.

“What will happen to the survivors?”

Wondering if the man was concerned about humans on the other side of the Atlantik or if he was thinking of something—or someone—else, Simon said, “They’ll get up in the morning and work in their fields, tend their animals, drive their carts to the marketplace in their village, gossip with their friends, take out a boat and bring back fish to eat and sell. There may be things that will be hard to buy, at least for a while, but the humans who kept their bargain with the terra indigene will get by. Even in Cel-Romano. And so will we. Your pup may not get all the treats she wants, and there will be some days when none of us have a completely full belly, but we’ll have enough.”

“In the Courtyard.”

Since Montgomery had stopped helping with the books, Simon retrieved the packing list and checked off the books in one box before he opened the next one.

“We’re not here to take care of you humans,” he said. “We never were. We’re here to take care of the world.” He set the packing slips aside. “Tell Captain Burke and Agent O’Sullivan that tomorrow morning the three of you will meet some of us at the consulate.”

“Why?”

A shiver went through Simon. “Because Ocean is coming to Lakeside, and she wants to talk to you.”

“Gods above and below,” O’Sullivan said. “Was Wolfgard serious?”

Standing in Burke’s office with the door closed, Monty wished he could deny it. “He’s serious.”

“The Great Lakes are the largest source of fresh water on the continent,” O’Sullivan continued. “What will happen to Etu and Tahki if the ocean flows in?”

“I imagine some . . . accommodation . . . has been made,” Burke said.

Like what? Monty thought. “What happened at your meeting with the mayor?”

Burke’s blue eyes were filled with sharp amusement.

“Governor Hannigan has requested that any public official who supported the HFL resign immediately so that human governments in the Northeast can try to reestablish a working relationship with the terra indigene,” O’Sullivan said. “He feels that the Others aren’t going to be sympathetic to any request humans make if they’re represented by a human they consider an enemy.”

“I agree with that,” Burke said. “When Mayor Rogers began to bluster, I felt obliged to remind him that, by being a member of the HFL, he broke his promise to work with the terra indigene—a promise he made after the death of his predecessor, who also supported the Humans First and Last movement.”

“And I felt compelled to remind him that he was the acting mayor, not an elected official,” O’Sullivan said. “I encouraged him to resign before he was fired.”

“Or eaten,” Burke added.

“That seemed to be the incentive he needed to write his resignation then and there,” O’Sullivan continued. “So Captain Burke and I helped His Honor clear out his desk, and we made sure we had all the keys to the government building and the mayor’s office before we said good-bye.”

Monty stared at them. “What happens now? Do we have a government?”

Burke gave them one of his fierce-friendly smiles. “I’m in favor of asking Elliot Wolfgard to act as interim mayor until the fall elections or until the governor appoints another person as acting mayor. At least Elliot understands the workings of human government, being the consul for the Courtyard.”

“Do you really think he would argue on behalf of humans if what the citizens want or feel they need conflicts with what the Courtyard wants?” O’Sullivan asked.

Burke sighed. “No, I don’t. At least, not now. As I’ve said before, Simon Wolfgard is the most progressive terra indigene leader I’ve come across, and we need people who will work with him, now more than ever. Especially when you consider that, of the four places around here that have human inhabitants—Lakeside, Ferryman’s Landing, Talulah Falls, and that new community on River Road—Lakeside is the only one that is human controlled and has a government that answers to the regional governor and not to the terra indigene.”

O’Sullivan sat on the edge of Burke’s desk. “I’ll deny saying this, but Governor Hannigan thinks there may not be any human-controlled towns left between here and Hubb NE. And communication with Toland has been . . . erratic. A couple of the other ITF agents are driving down to assess the situation. A couple more are hoping for answers about the condition of the small towns that were around the Finger Lakes.”

Monty noticed the slight tremble in Burke’s hands—a reminder that even his captain’s previous experience with the Others didn’t always prepare him for the things happening now.

Burke said, “Before we start making plans for Lakeside, let’s go to that meeting tomorrow and find out if we even have a future.”