Chapter 61 – True Release (Ansel Conrad POV) Pt.1
The right thing to do is not always the easiest. Life and fate has shown me just that and so it is with great force I leave Angela in my office come dawn to help build and work with those around me when all I craved to do was wait until I heard from my son and the others. All night, after Lennon had left the room, a silence lingered only interrupted by the soft tapping of the keys on Angela's computer.
In-depth, she researched – carefully – the people that the kids encountered in Wisconsin; leaving no rock unturned.
With folders inches thick on most of them, I knew after work, I'd have to read or study whatever she found. Tired, I walked to the dining hall where I knew I'd find my wife along with the other cooks for breakfast. I get a few second glances from a few that worked the day before with me, their eyes scanning my clothes, each face showing their curiosity. Why was he wearing the same rumpled clothes from yesterday? The dirt on his face now look like it's meant to be there but the tiredness in his eyes is stronger? Nodding to everyone, smiling and putting on my best front, I sigh when I push through the silver double doors.
"Michelle you're on eggs, remember thirty sunny side, ten soft boiled and the rest scrambled," Lenah orders.
"Jamal and Hailey, you two are on oatmeal – there is a almost half finished container left of cinnamon apple, so use that first."
I watched my Lenah, taking control of the large kitchen, her hair up, flour on the tips of her fingers.
"Chris you're peeling avocados – half chopped, half mashed."
"Levi, you're chopping tomatoes."
"Deacon – two full bowls of fruit salad. One with quinoa, the other without."
"Nick and Verna," Lenah turned slightly to those still waiting for instructions. The two last called come walking to Lenah. "Everyone loved your egg whites, cheese, red pepper and spinach muffins, so I'm thinking five trays of twelve of them again today?" I watch as Verna blushes, her eyes slip to the floor but Nick smiles proudly at her.
"They're Verna's recipe," Nick says when a beat passes after Lenah has spoken. The quiet in the kitchen fades and soon clicks and clanks against metal sound, each one echoing but cut off by another.
"Well, Verna, they were a hit, everyone enjoyed them."
"Thank you," the girl says showing off just how painfully shy she is by never lifting her head.
I stand out of the way waiting until the sixteen people—seventeen with Lenah—are given their jobs and rush around making enough food to feed over one hundred people. As they move around me in flurry, eventually Lenah comes to me after putting a few trays of dough in the oven.
"Maybe you should take a shower sweetheart," she coos, her floury front rubbing up against me. "It'll get you refreshed. You're working hard and haven't taken a break since we've arrived here. That's not healthy," she whispers, the warmth of her breath against my ear calms me.
Deep eyes that mere hours ago were overcome with sorrow now shine with concern.
"No arguing," she says with authority, "Shower." And with that my wife steps away from me, sashaying back to her post, helping those around her.
I watched with a close eye four people here, Nick, Verna, Jamal and Hailey and how they were interacting with everyone here, two of the younger girls here as well. It was strange almost how different just weeks ago they all were.
Nick, Verna, Hailey and Jamal tended to keep to themselves back in Bend. Sure they came around for meetings when asked, but I never saw them interacting friendly, all family-like. I had always believed that since losing their own loved ones they were safe with me in my den, however being around families when they could not be with theirs was all too painful.
Now though, as I observe them, there is a spark in their eyes and I wonder if maybe I had gotten it wrong before? They never came to the house or did much when it was something like a cookout, but maybe they hadn't felt as welcomed as I had said? Could that be the difference? Not wanting to intrude?
I stand still for minutes until Jamal senses my gaze on them and lifts his head to search the room trying to find the person that he could just feel was staring.
When light brown—caramel colored— eyes sync with mine, his entire frame stiffens. Giving him a slight nod and smile I push away from the wall that was holding up these tired bones and exit the kitchen, rushing up to mine and Lenah's room. Tossing aside my clothing as I make way to the shower, I avoid even a slight glance at the bed calling out to me.
Later, I tell myself as I enter the bathroom and stepping into the shower, closing the glass door behind me. Doing no more than standing in place as water pelted my strained muscles I close my eyes, tilt my head back, thoughts running rampant. From questioning why exactly had Faith and Samson, the others ran? What did the book that Samson and Faith want say? Who were those people in Lake Geneva? The prophecy? Why could Imogen, Samson, Faith and Lennon not see what the rest of us saw when looking at Mack and Xan?
So far we had ruled out age, gender, supernatural versus humans, a camera lens did not change it, and throwing Lennon into the mix only further flipped more alarm bells.
Samson rarely spent time with Lennon or Imogen. It was only when Faith sparked a relationship with Imogen did Samson and Imogen spend actual time together. Samson just wanted to be near Faith, so where she was, he was there. So what was the overall common factor?
Sighing I rest one hand up against the wall. It felt like the answers I was looking for were right in front of me, but all the clutter in my mind prevented me from getting it right. Not to mention we had clues, but not plenty details. Nowhere near enough.
~ 0 ~
Hours spent digging out a two level basement, the trenches that were needed to replicate homes like what Dmitri had built but on a small single-family scale. Finally at the end of the day, we had footings formed and poured and the foundation walls in place while also leveling and fitting the area with the needed utilities.
If anyone notices that I'm distracted, they give me a wide berth of room and when it's time to head inside, not wanting to leave everything astray, I take part, doing my share though my feet move like I'm walking on hot coal.
Heading inside I do the opposite of what I had the previous day and shower before I head to my office to meet Angela. Shockingly I burst through the doors and find my sister asleep on my sofa, the printer shooting out a paper every forty seconds a stack of paper already collected.
Closing the door behind me softly, envious, but aware that clearly she spent time working as the stacks of folders that were not there in the morning were here. Sniffing the air when I catch nothing but toner from freshly printed documents, I step out of the room, heading down to the kitchen making two dinner plates and going back to my sister. Anxious to know what she's found, but not going to pass up a chance to tease her I go as quietly as possible placing her dinner plate right near her nose. Grabbing the ranch from the side of the tray I use the spoon to drip a few drops on Angela's nose.
Shaking in silent laughter when her little nose twitches I back away taking my plate to the desk, and throwing a glance at Angela as she sniffs in her sleep, the ranch sauce slowly dripping down her face. Chuckling, I stuff my face with sautéed potatoes, watching as Angela lifts her hand to itch her nose only brushing the ranch sauce up her face well past her hair line.
"Ugh – hmmp," she groans, blinking awake and looking at her hand. "What – what the hell?" throwing my head back I laugh as she sniffs her hand this time. Once Angela acknowledges my full-bellied laugh in the room, she pops into a seated position glaring daggers at me.
"Why – what are you seven?" I smile widely, "If I were seven, I'd use hot sauce," snorting when I'm sure Angela recalls the time when I smashed hot peppers and dropped the juices on her lips while she slept when we were children.
Reaching for the hem of her shirt she lifts it up, wiping away the ranch dressing while she shakes her head. "And to think... while you were out working I came up with ideas, found data, and was napping so I could keep up with you when you came back," she gripes trying to lay the guilt on thickly.
"Well, I just spent a few hours also digging out that area you wanted me too, so we could put in those coolers for your servers and geek area," I counter.
Not letting her happiness show, Angela broods for a moment, eyes on the table before she sighs. "I guess you out did me," she shrugs giving in much too easily.
Shaking my head, I rest back. "Nope, what'd you come up with now?"
"I don't know if I should tell you until after I no longer smell like ranch dressing," she says frowning pitifully.
"I think you should before I make sure that the coolers you install only and always scent of ranch dressing."
Blanching, she shudders but nods, lifting her laptop and tray of food and walking over to me.
"Okay so – that book they wanted?" I nod and lean forward. Though Faith and Samson had not shared the details, the fact that they called and asked for Angela to help them place it on virtual storage only intrigued me further. Angela as well.
"It's a dead end."
My nostrils flare out. "Why would-"
"No, Ansel, we both know Nick bragged about that book, so I researched what I could, and came up blank. Not wanting to cause trouble I did not ask or put feelers out there. But the coded words? Faith knows how to read it and – don't get upset but -" I grit my teeth as all traces of humor drain from my body. When has someone ever said those words without something that will surely add fuel to the fire?
"Samson and Faith – they haven't called but they did send me a message so I responded and told them that really, they have to give us more. Before we – you and Lenah – were fine with the secrecy and what not, but that was when we thought no one knew of Faith's existence. That is just no longer the case!"
I prioritize my thoughts and questions. "First, they're okay?"
Angela nods. "Yeah, and plus I've been keeping track of Xan and Mack. They're checked into a hotel," and with that I let out a relieved sigh.
That out of the way I focus on Angela, noting a happy gleam in her eye as she waits for me to process. "What?" I deadpan.
Curling one leg beneath her Angela bounces in place. "So we know that Xan and maybe his father do not have the best intentions when it comes to Faith, so I was trying to figure out a way to test just what kind of bad intentions we are dealing with. Are we dealing with Zedwood intentions? Dmitri intentions? Loyalists and Independents? Elders? Are they all one in the same?"
Angela was right there with me when it came to a revolving door of questions.
"What did you come up with?" I ask hopeful.
"I was so excited when I came to this, I nearly did it on the spot!" She warns, gesturing with her hands. "However, after using every bit of self-control I possessed, I refrained and a good thing too," she pats herself on the back.
"They checked in just about-" she stops looking around my office. Her eyes fall to the right and I follow her gaze. The clock. "So, two hours ago."
I nod.
"I can call to their room, anonymously and ask them 'who is Robert Delaney?" I sit up straighter now. "However, I realized that would only get two of the thirty people living in La-"
"Thirty? I thought there was only twelve?"
"Thirty I could place," she corrects. "They're not hiding but I did find a few strange things..." she pauses grabbing a piece of garlic bread and ripping a bite off while she stood and walked back to the coffee table.
When she returns, Angela takes the laptop and food off the table and spreads out a few papers containing generic data. Stepping back, she asks, "what do you see?" I look down after she's waved her hands. Starting from left to right I scrutinize the photos – recalling some of the twelve we looked up the night before – placing the new additions.
"I haven't slept, unlike you, I'm running on empty here Angie," I say after five minutes of looking at the clutter and seeing nothing more that potential threats.
With a disgruntled huff Angie starts picking out a few of the details and laying them next to one another.
"Everyone of these people were born on Friday," she says pointing to the date of birth. I scan the documents and sure enough, they were all born on a Friday. In July.
"I put in all the data, and using an algorithm to find similarities-"
"You used a computer program and expected me to see something by just looking at what was placed in front of me?" I ask monotone.
Not biting Angela continues. "As I was saying, these people, all thirty – though not all are from Lake Geneva, Wisconsin – were all born on the twenty-seventh Friday of the year, like Faith." I look down confused.
"What?"
Angela leans over the table, pointing first to Davis Phillips.
"One year can have up to fifty-three-week numbers. The first week of the year is the week that contains January 4th or the first Tuesday of the New Year. With that in mind, Davis' records say he was born July 7th 1961 – it's a Friday – the twenty-seventh Friday of the year."
"Faith was born July third, on that same Friday."
"The date changes, but not the day itself," I murmur to myself. When I've wrapped my mind around that I look up at Angela. "So what does this have to do with Robert Delaney?" I asked not finding a connection.
Angela blinks twice before pursing her lips. "It doesn't," she says just above a whisper.
I stare at her for a minute my face blank before the exterior cracks and my lips curl upward, a laugh starting in my chest bubbles out.
"I mean it's information but that's odd you know?" she scrambles backward.
Only making the situation all that more humorous for me, I nod.
"Good thing you took that nap, I can see you clearly needed it," I manage to choke out eventually.
Though I tease her, and keep my smirk in place while she glares at me, I ignore Angie for a while, just looking at the dates. She was right; it was info that was bizarre. Thirty people all born on the same day, different dates, and it just so happens that Faith was one of those people that shared that day.
"Moving on," Angela says while I grin, "with the Robert Delaney thing, I figured since I set up one anonymous connection that I could do multiple, make the calls simultaneously and have it so that it's a recorded call. Doing it one at a time runs the risk that they're in mixed company and one might harm the group and so on."
Would that be such a bad thing? I ask myself privately but as the same time I thought life to be a precious thing and as such would not wish death upon those that do not mean harm to Samson and the rest.
"Calling them and hearing nothing does not automatically give them a clean slate," I chose my words carefully. "Just because they aren't Loyalist or Elder bad, does not mean they are good," I point out.
Angela takes a moment to look at me, her eyes peering into me, unable though to see inside like Lenah.
She licks her lips and the corners of her mouth turn downward for a split second. "When did you become so cynical?" I looked at her as though she had just sprouted ten heads.
"A man isolates a girl to the point of making her weak and mentally unstable. I get it, it's hard to put it into words because lets say Faith was just one of those children with parents that want to homeschool their child? But what Dmitri did to Faith is nowhere near healthy – the girl is smart but Angie those first two months were heart-wrenching to watch." Pausing I think of the injuries caused by her lack of interaction alone. Thankful she saved my Talia, however horrified that she ran into a building that not even the firemen would have entered. "My sister in law that we thought walked on water, and so we walked on eggshells around her, left her daughter in a basement in Colorado and did so on purpose," I shake my head.
"Then it's just been down hill from there, I mean... my kid that I thought I could trust was manipulated by someone he loves or loved... and Taylor killed my son. Then her own parents and siblings it turns out."
"I feel like – like," I flex my both hands, fingers curling to make a fist. "I thought my life was like the perfect ripened fruit. Shiny red apple, smells wonderful, but you cut into it and just a millimeter in it's not quite rotten but that shiny exterior is deceiving and the further you cut the worse it gets until finally your faced with a rotten core."
"And then... throw in a bit of my guilt," I spit angry with myself.
"Guilt?"
Rubbing my face roughly, I nod behind my calloused palm and fingers.
"You know when Lenah suggested we take Faith in, I thought and expressed my desire not to do that. I thought that she just wanted to help Faith out of gratitude and we had a full house. Fast forward and look at where we are?"
"in her house, safe and sound – or as safe as we can me when clueless and facing an unpredictable future. She just offered it up. In danger, she helps us, thinks of us. I mean all of this," I wave my hands around, "it all happened because Talia was kind to Faith. Like... Samson... Taylor... I was worried that he would eventually pursue a relationship with her because of convenience and love. Not the raw and passionate kind of love, but the easiness of being with someone familiar. And then further more once he crossed that line, I know my son, who he was just months ago, he'd have stayed with her despite any happiness."
"And it just..." I pant out, one hand gripping the edge of my desk. "He could have – god can you just imagine? The truth always comes out and what she did to Silas, if Samson had found out after it would – I'd have finally lost my son for good!" I swear it.
"Faith woke us up and opened all of our eyes," I conclude. She has been doing what I would expect from my son, she's behaved like a leader. Granted she did a lot of running
~ 0 ~
Hours after Angela and I dived into the data she gathered, Lenah, and both sets of parents are sitting at the desk when the phone rings. I know it is Samson and rush to answer.
"Samson," Lenah and I say his name relieved.
"Yeah, we're fine, we're actually stopped in Toledo right now – it's another property of Fatima's." Samson tacks on at the end. "Uhm, thanks aunt Angela," he says unsure a bit of shuffling causing static noise on the line.
"What the hell is going on Samson?" Lenah demands, all signs of giving the kids space out the damn window, possibly much too late.
We hear nothing for a while, but can tell that Samson is still on the line.
'Why are you guys still only in Ohio?" Lenah tries another route. "You have to give us something Samson, we rushed to get to Asheville, and now – not knowing who to trust – we're hundreds of miles away from you!"
"If we tell you, this – you cannot go searching mom, dad, not even you aunt Angela."
"It has to be – dad it cannot leave your office. You need to leave it alone, and – and take Fatima's word on this," Samson says, his tone serious, filled with authority.
I look to Lenah, not going to answer or decide without at least checking with her, searching her face for objections. When I find none, I sigh; ready to hear what Samson and Faith had to say. Explain what was happening right now and possibly get answers.
"It won't leave the office. Right now, it's just your grandparents, mom and aunt Angela in this room," I inform them.
"So Fatima cannot remember her past fully but she has been getting flashbacks, more so when she sleeps and with her body temperature fluctuating it takes a lot of her so she has been resting often. When we left we decided to stop at all the properties along the way to ...where we were heading," he says cryptically but I remain silent.
"Right now, each place we've stopped has had homes like the one you're in, some much smaller with two or three bedrooms but the isolation, barns, farms, air filters, each place has it. The same electric fence and they're all sparsely furnished – fridges and cupboards empty."
I nod though I know my son cannot see me.
"We stopped hoping that maybe we'd learn what Dmitri was up too, especially when we found ourselves at a home that was like the one you are in now. It just did not make sense. Then Fatima began having more flashbacks and remembering things that was taught to her as a child – the characters from the book. Fatima can read them, she can look at the paper and see the actual words that are spelt out."
I rest back stunned, but lean forward in seconds.
"So we stopped in North Dakota and when we do... there is a property that only Luca, Imogen, Fatima and I can see, Rafael cannot." I blink.
"Like how grandma spelled the house?" my father jumps in.
"Uhm... I guess. I've – I mean in the place where we were going it looked like a state park or just another rolling hill, but when Imogen, Luca, Fatima and I looked at it, we saw a gate with an insignia on it and then Fatima had a vision or flashback, she remembered seeing the same shape when she was a little girl."
"In Colorado?" I ask.
There's a bit of silence and then I hear Fatima for the first time since Samson called. "No, it was from Zedwood," she says softly. "When Trevor – uhm, when you had my blood tested against Cynthia's," she continues but with great reluctance.
Not wanting to rush I bite my tongue giving Faith time to voice her question.
"Did he find anything strange about it? Like... was it different?" I duck back tilting my head to the side wondering where that came from.
Glancing from the corner of her eye at me Lenah frowns, before leaning towards the phone. "Faith, sweetheart, he found that you had low iron, and needed the vitamins that you were taking, but... Trevor never dug into your D.N.A. to find answers about you," Lenah explains.
Does she think we betrayed her trust and researched her?
"We never asked him to look into your genetic make up outside of if Cynthia was your biological mother-"
"And she was?" Faith jumps in. Asking as though wanting confirmation when she already had it.
"Yes, why?" I answer unsure where this was going.
Should I have brought Trevor in here?
"I'm – I'm a – a GMO," Faith stammers, and I look at the phone not understanding what the hell she just murmured. While Angela gasps. Throwing a look at her I focus back on the phone.
"What did you say honey?" Lenah probes.
Silence is all that comes through.
"I had a flash back, and they were talking about how I'm a G-M-O."
"G-M-O?"
"Genetically modified organism," Angela blurts out.
Frozen, I look out towards my parents but not truly seeing.
"I think... they – people in Zedwood, they made me. Programed me somehow?" Faith attempts to explain. "I'm not quite sure, I've not had many more flashbacks. And I think I was focused on the insignia."
Scratching my head I open my mouth only to shut it. What was I – what the hell was going on here? Trying to wrap my mind around everything I rationalized what Fatima was saying, looking at Antone. Did we have that technology here? To do what Faith was saying she was? Was science in this realm there yet? Sure Angela knew what the acronym was, but how far into that technology was this world?
While I tried to process my father leaned towards the phone with his brows mashed together.
"Hey Faith, the insignia, it must have been important to evoke such revelations," he comments and though I'm still unsure what Faith being a G-M-O meant in the grand scheme, I nodded in agreement with dad.
"Well, we're just twisted in knots over it," Samson jumps back on the line now. "We took pictures and then in the pictures, all we saw was snowy hills. However Imogen worked on the idea forever, we couldn't place where we had seen it before but then she realized that it was the Earth with the Supercontinent Pangea."
"And from there, we... it had two sets of stars or shapes and when we placed them where we saw them on the gate, it was actually over the North American continent. Placed right, one of the stars actually fell where we were in North Dakota."
"And Rafael, you saw only snow covered hills?" Antone's voice drips with curiosity. Waiting, when the next person speaks I listen but a new sense of dread comes along with their words.
"Rafael, Imogen and Luca went out for food. We called because they are not here," Samson says softly, but I know my son and I hear the attempt to cover the tension in his voice.
"Is – what is wrong?" I ask, my heart pounding. "Was Rafael a threat after all?"
"Not exactly," Samson responds.
"Then what?"
"The book Angela helped Rafael – actually... I should say that Luca and Imogen, aren't only Luca and Imogen," Fatima says cryptically.
The seven of us just shift gazes between each other, before shrugging in puzzlement.
Sometimes as a parent I'm always shocked at the information my children would retain. Information that made me stop in place and wonder, 'was there any other child on the planet that knew or behaved as my child did in that moment?' It was not thinking they were the greatest, it was seeing them do something and being amazed because truth be told I had not the slightest inclination or sign that they could do it.
I thought I was observant but once again Faith was going to knock me out of the water as Naomi had. "In Zedwood there is a tale, like a fairytale that parents or well someone would tell me about it. There was a bad guy in Zedwood, and he escaped after he was punished. He was a very bad man," she repeats.
"Because the High Lords knew that they dropped the ball, and that the man escaped under their watchful gaze, six of them came to this realm to find, capture and eliminate this world of him. They were sent here by spell, and what was supposed to happen was they'd get bodies, and the six would work to capture the prisoner. So this was over a hundred years ago..."
Just how much about Zedwood, about herself did Faith know? I marvel.
"Instead, what happened is nothing like the tale, I mean the six souls have failed miserably!" I blink for a moment, smirking and glancing at Angela. First, I think that's the longest sentence I've heard from Faith willingly. Second, I had a moment just like this with Angela mere hours prior. Was there a point here? This conversation so far had jumped from one topic to the next; after each truth released, only a few spares seconds pass before we're in transit once again.
"Luca and Imogen are two of the six souls. I mean their bodies each contain one of the six souls. So Imogen is Imogen, but she's also Seraphima. Honestly at this point it does not matter which soul she has, they've all failed their purpose," Antone lifts one hand to cover his mouth as his body shakes and the corner of his eyes crease at the total disappointment in Faith's voice. Nothing was censored.
"As I was saying – right. So Luca and Imogen have the souls, and in the book, it was a list and an explanation to the past. On the list," at this even Angela leans forward to hear.
"It gave a list of Light and Dark Lords from Zedwood. But it also says that Dark Lords cannot be trusted. Then, it says that Luca is a Dark Lord, no – no – not Luca, but Rhys – that's Seraphima's Eternal soul mate-"
"Is this something new?" I ask the first thing on my mind. Was this something that happened when they left Bend? These souls?
I already have an answer when neither Faith nor Samson deny or quickly respond verbally.
"Since Luca was fourteen – it happened somewhere in Vermont," Fatima finally puts out there. One more thing that happened right under my nose – I've been blind.
"Why did you guys leave Bend?" I demand.
They do not have to answer me. "I had a premonition of someone that I knew as a child. He told me that when I was remembering, after what happened with Lydia, that I needed to leave, that danger would be upon me. Take someone I trusted," Faith whispers. Samson.
Lydia... trying to steal from Faith, I sigh heavily when I pull memories forward, a slideshow that makes me stiffen. They were in the room together – "You were all together in the room when Lydia tried to steal energy or power from Faith!" my voice rising while my tone leaves no room for argument.
"Lennon, Imogen, Faith, and Samson. The four of you were in the room when Lydia and Faith faced off," I say resting back looking at Lenah and Angela with a big old grin on my face. "Something – it had to be there. There are no other factors!" I tap the desk, nodding to myself.
Whatever happened, energy stolen, transferred or touched, those four were in the room when Lydia died. Could something from Lydia's spell have changed my Samson, as well as Faith, Lennon and Imogen?
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© 2016 roxann_season All Rights Reserved
thank you for reading, voting, and commenting.
First --- So who is happy that finally Ansel and co are being filled in?
Second --- Truth... how many remembered and guessed the event with Lydia is what Samson, Faith, Imogen and Lennon had in common? One reader actually guessed right off the bat, which put a smile on my face because for a second I thought 'oh no, I've made this hard and difficult to follow, no one is going to guess that the event' but one did.
goodnight everyone :)