She reset her icy glare upon her husband. “That was never the plan.”
“Find your humanity, love,” Tom said. “That boy may yet save us all.”
“He’s just as likely to kill us all if the design is breaking down.”
Grace widened her eyes. “Voices,” she warned, pointing toward the dock. The boys slipped into their sandals and started in. Each draped a towel over his shoulder but didn’t bother drying. They dripped on everything reaching for the tray of appetizers without so much as hello.
Their pairing made no sense to Grace. Michael buried himself in movies and video games, while Jamie preferred a skateboard, a sketchpad, and running trails. Michael rotated between afro and dreadlocks, while Jamie streaked his hair with varied highlights.
“Ma,” Jamie said between bites. “Coop and me are heading out. Gonna hike up to the store for snacks. Got a twenty I could borrow?”
She glared. “Borrow implies a loan.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. S.,” Michael said. “J and I got it covered. You want us to get you folks something? We’ll keep the change.”
Tom pulled a twenty from his shirt pocket. “Consider this your snacks for today and tomorrow. Yes? Spend wisely.”
“Sweet, Dad.” Jamie and Michael pumped fists.
“Ebony and ivory on the case,” Michael said. “Catch you on the flipside.”
Marlena groaned as the boys turned to leave. “Ebony and ivory? Is that your new catchphrase, Michael?”
He frowned. “Don’t reckon. It’s just ...” He pointed back and forth between himself and Jamie. “Ebony. Ivory. Stevie Wonder? Get it?”
“No. Is Stevie another friend I haven’t met?”
The boys fell upon each other in stitches. “Let’s just go, dude,” Jamie insisted. “Wait, what?” Michael said as they shuffled off. “How does she not know Stevie Freaking Wonder? Dude. Seriously.”
She punched Tom’s arm. “I guarantee they will leave this house with a lighter and a couple of joints. The snacks will come after.”
Tom shrugged. “If this is the worst they do, then at least Jamie will be happy for the next three years. He’s earned it, even if he has no idea why.” Tom shifted to Grace. “So? Walt and Sammie are running a bit late. Yes?”
“Sammie wanted more time on the range,” she said of her daughter. “Which reminds me. Walt wanted you to see his latest acquisition. Since the boys are gone … shall we?”
Marlena and Tom followed Grace inside to the master bedroom. She pulled open the double-closet doors and reached to the top shelf. She retrieved a long, wide case and set it on the bed. She placed a key in the lock and turned three rotations. Tom whistled and Marlena felt cold as they studied the two weapons.
“M16s,” Tom said, grabbing one. “Walt’s contact came through. How big is the Huggins arsenal now?”
“We’re getting closer, although I doubt Walt will ever be satisfied. He’ll have no relief until recovery is complete and we cross the fold alive.”
Marlena had not fired a weapon in twenty years, but that didn’t worry her. “Why so much firepower?” She asked. “You already have more than enough to kill the others. Does Walt sincerely doubt their loyalty?”
Grace smiled. “Walt trusts no one. Except for me and Sammie.”
“But,” Marlena said, “have you heard any of the others say a single word against this mission in twelve years? Even a hint of disloyalty?”
“Of course not, but none would dare make a premature move. They know how Walt will respond. No, Walt expects the trouble to come toward the end, perhaps not even until the final hours. Some might choose to go rogue and stay here; others might move against the Jewel before transformation. Walt believes the last hours will be treacherous.”
The same thoughts plagued Marlena since the day she arrived. Fifteen years was too long an exile, on this or any other planet. Too much time to become satisfied, to forget about the traditions of home, to doubt the mission parameters, to justify killing friends.
Marlena doubted she would see her home world again.
PART ONE FROM THE DARKNESS
Son,
In these, your final hours, we hope you will find the capacity to forgive us. Please understand that the force of history requires promises be kept and destinies be fulfilled. We were faced with a dilemma; we made the choice that was in the best interests of humanity. It is our sincerest hope you were able to find a life of reasonable happiness and fulfillment in the short time given to you.
With Fondest Regards,
Mother
Father
1
Albion, Alabama
1:58 a.m.
J AMIE SHERIDAN NEEDED a few more smash-and-grabs to refine his technique, with less emphasis on “smash.” He made a mess of the back door to Ol’ Jack’s General Store because he stole the wrong key from the old man’s master ring. He used the butt of his flashlight to crack enough glass for a gloved reach-in.
“You suck, Sheridan,” he muttered as he brushed hair out of his face and followed the light.
He passed the bait and tackle display then the grain and feed, reaching the tiny office where Jamie expected to find the object of his first official robbery. He long ago decided the other thefts didn’t count because he never kept what he stole.
This time, no give-backs.
Jamie pulled open the top drawer of Jack’s file cabinet. He squeezed the hanging folders forward and focused his light on a brown metal lockbox. He set the box on a desk littered with the chaotic paperwork of a man who trafficked only in cash, check and handwritten receipts - and trust of a boy who swept floors and bagged groceries three times a week.
“He’ll never get it,” Jamie said. “None of them will.”
Jamie took a deep breath. He knew where Jack kept the bolt cutters, but he played a hunch. The box opened without resistance. He
