Day Fifteen ∞ Friday morning
SELINA SAT ON THE EXTRUDED PILOT SEAT of the vessel, waiting in partial rest mode, re-energizing while lightly monitoring the activity outside with retrospection. Through the mental weariness, she reviewed what had transpired in the past few hours—and was satisfied.
Satisfied that she had given The One yet more time.
Satisfied that both Daughters were still safe.
But concerned about what The Second was occupying her self with.
She did not place immediate importance to it—that would have to be the focus of a later, less critical time.
Right now her focus was on the conclusion—the ocean—which was not yet in sight. She could extend her view, follow the path of the river, theorize which new tributaries lay ahead, which options lay on the horizon. She could analyze them while embracing the lessons she had learned, the strength she had gained with that knowledge. She was Aumega and she had won a battle without being roused.
How many battles would she have to face before it was time? Before the war was over?
It mattered not. When the destination was near she would know.
∞
Mickmi placed a hand on Danny's arm as he looked in the rearview mirror for the umpteenth time, as he'd been doing on a daily basis for the past week.
"They follow not," she said. "They already know where we go."
He glanced at her. "Right." That was of no comfort. It simply meant the black Dodge Aspen following them probably already was camped out in the vicinity of his workplace.
The same men who'd installed monitoring devices in his house.
Even though Mickmi appeared unconcerned and kept reassuring him that they were not a threat, it was wearing on his nerves. Her daily, soothing warmth would take the edge off for a few hours, but it could not stop him from worrying. The weight of knowing that their day-to-day life existed on borrowed time was taking its toll.
At least he'd managed to get some sleep last night, despite yesterday's foreboding. Its intensity had subdued as quickly as it had started—as if an impending danger had been averted.
Like they'd received an extension.
He didn't understand it but trusted Mickmi's senses.
He pulled to a halt at a stoplight and grabbed her hand. "We'll get through this," he said, as much to her as to himself. He met her gaze and smiled encouragingly. "You'll get back your memory and you'll be able to move on. And I'll be with you every step of the way, I promise."
She smiled in return, but her eyes spoke of her knowing his unease.
They reached the auto shop in good time, and when Ray arrived, Mr. Myers called everybody to a meeting.
"Boys... Miss Mickmi..." He gave her a nod. "The shop will close early today to facilitate us working at... supporting our very own – Debbie – Myers – at the Miss Lake Eufaula Beauty Pageant!"
Nathan and Ray whooped, Jason clapped his hands and everyone laughed.
"Lunch time?" Aaron asked, grinning.
"Yes, we close at lunchtime." Mr. Myers lifted his hand to show the envelopes he was holding. "I don't expect much traffic here today. But even if there is, they're going to have to wait till Monday," he added as he handed them out one by one to the boys.
Then he turned to Mickmi. "My dear, you've only been working for me since Wednesday, but I feel like I've been getting work for a week. This is your pay." He took her hand and placed a brown envelope in it.
Mickmi smiled. "Thank you," she said with a nod, turning the envelope over, feeling its thickness.
Aaron came and patted her on the shoulder. "If Dad's happy, we're happy. Keep it up!"
"Okay, boys, get to work!"
About an hour later, Mr. Myers called Danny into the office. He had a pouch packed and ready. "I want you to run an errand for me. Aaron has to finish the Chevvy he's working on—but you know the routine."
"Yes, sir," Danny said, taking the pouch from him.
"Everything is written up, all you have to do is to give it to the teller. And"—he signaled to Danny as he was about to turn—"you can take Miss Mickmi with you."
∞
Banking. That was another topic to explore. Danny was curious what Mickmi had to say about that.
"You know what we're going to do?" he asked as he took them on a side road into town to avoid the traffic. "Make a deposit at the bank. Do you have banks in your world?"
She tilted her head as she considered. "Banks, aye... We have seed banks, food banks, power banks, memory..."
"Memory bank? Is that – kind of like a library? Sounds like something you'd need right now." He chuckled, meeting her gaze for a moment before she became distant.
"Kind of. It contains the memories of almost every generation since the Great Desolation, feeding the history and the knowledge of our people, available upon demand." She drew a deep breath. "I remember that."
"Not bad." He rubbed her hand as it rested on the seat between them. "Great desolation, huh? Sounds serious."
"It is history. It happened over four millennia ago."
"You remember your history. But what about money banks? Don't you have those?"
"Nay."
He was bemused. "Then how do you keep money safe?"
"We have no money. Ancient practice."
"Ancient, huh? But don't you buy and sell? How d'you get your groceries?"
"Sustenance is not bought. It is an entitlement, a right." Mickmi smiled patiently. "Like air and water."
Danny nodded. "I like that. That means there'd be no starvation anywhere... We should do something like that here. What about other stuff? Don't you ever buy things?"
"Aye... We use credits. It is a system linked to our life prints." She looked at her hands, turning them over. "Our identities."
He flicked on the indicator as he slowed down for an intersection and stopped, then turned left. There was a lot more traffic here. "Life prints? Like fingerprints?"
She was squeezing her wrist, her gaze far away. "Like an energy print from our pulse." She closed her fingers into a fist.
He glanced at her, noting her frown. "You're doing good, Mickmi. So what—" He broke off as he looked ahead at the entrance to the bank parking lot. "Shoot. It looks full."
He turned in anyway and drove slowly between the rows of parked vehicles. "It's an extra busy day today," he commented as he braked in front of the bank entrance and tried to look through the glass door. "No wonder Mr. Myers said you could come. Why don't you hop out and get in line while I find a parking space? Go in the line for deposits."
Mickmi nodded and jumped out. Danny continued his slow trek until he found an available spot behind the building. When he got inside, there were already five more persons standing in line behind her. He excused himself as he made his way to her position.
"You were correct," she said, matching the subdued volume that permeated the place. She indicated the line ahead of them.
"Yea..." He put the pouch under his arm and turned her to him, taking hold of her wrist to look at it. "So how d'you use it? Life prints," he said quietly. He pressed his thumb gently against her skin, feeling for a pulse.
She spun her arm around in his grip and closed her fist with a slow thrust. "By putting my hand through a ring scanner."
He loosely encircled her wrist with his hands so she could pull hers back out without obstruction. "Like that?"
She nodded once, smiling.
"So you'd do that every time you go shopping."
"Aye, but... not I. I was in training."
He urged her by the shoulders to close the gap in the shrinking line. "You mean you've never ever bought anything yourself?"
A furrow grew between her brows as she became distant again. "Thrice a year I ordered one gift..."
"And what occasion would be three times a year? What kind of gift, do you remember?" He threw a glance around, but nobody was paying them any mind.
She didn't reply. Her expression slowly relaxed as her eyes seemed to search the air. "I always leave a gift of memories," she said eventually, meeting his gaze, "before my transfer to a new region community."
"What?" he exclaimed, restraining his voice to a hush. "Every three months you had to move? What about your—" He snapped his mouth shut, but she'd already picked up his train of thought, the momentary hint of sadness at not remembering something as personal as family evident on her face. "I'm sorry, Mickmi. I didn't mean to..."
There was a wistful look in her eyes as she gazed at him. "Apologize not," she said and turned to take a few more steps.
"When the time is right, you'll remember. I know it," he said next to her ear, resting a hand on her arm.
The line ahead of them was getting shorter, so it would soon be their turn. Danny pulled the wallet out of his pocket to retrieve his credit card. He planned to make his first payment on it. As he put his wallet back, he saw Mickmi digging into her sling bag.
"Don't," he said. "You don't owe me anything."
She hesitated with her hand in the envelope she'd received at work. "I should. You have given me so much," she murmured over her shoulder. Then she faced him and studied him for a moment. "Okay." She closed her bag slowly.
Danny lifted a hand to give her cheek a fond rub with his thumb, then looked up to see the last two persons in front of them to go to the counter. "We're next."
They stepped forward and Mickmi turned back to him, about to say something when her expression changed to alertness.
"Intentions approach that belong not," she said, looking past his shoulder.
A chill assailed his nape. "Huh?" He followed her gaze toward the exit but saw nothing unusual. "Is it the same thing like yesterday?" he said close to her ear.
"Nay," she breathed. "Nothing to do with us."
He sighed in relief, but she was still distracted. "Come," he said as he noticed a customer walking away. "It's our turn."
She was slow to follow him as he went to the counter and looked through the glass.
"Good morning. I have some deposits to make. Also, I want to make a payment on my credit card," he said, sliding the deposit book and two bundles of cash through the opening.
"Would that be by money order or wire transfer?"
"Wire transfer."
"Okay, just a moment, sir," the woman said, then returned with a voucher that she slipped under the glass to him. "Just fill out your address, card number, the amount, and sign."
Mickmi came as he grabbed the pen offered and started writing.
"See you the girl who just entered?"
She leaned her elbow on the counter close to him, and he glanced at her but her attention was still beyond him. He was about to follow her gaze when something flickered in his mind—and he grunted, shaking it off before looking toward the exit again. He just saw the security guard standing at his post at the closed door, nobody else.
He turned back to her. "What girl?"
"And the coffee-black man... carrying a large bag."
"What?" He looked again and shook his head. He was totally clueless. "I don't see what..."
She met his gaze for an instant, then continued past him, moving to the left. "They talk with a banking person."
Danny looked. "That's the bank manager. But he's alone..." He frowned, squinting against a sudden tension in his forehead as the suited man turned to walk to the restricted area and opened the door. "Mickmi...?"
"Here you go, sir," the teller pushed the deposit book to him. "Ready with the payment?"
"Sorry." He quickly filled in the information and copied the number from his card before handing it over with the cash. Then he turned to Mickmi. "Are you okay? 'Cause you're seeing things that aren't there."
She glanced at him with furrowed brows, then stared past him. "I am fine. But their intent is not like others' here. It is not to conduct business. Something else."
"Mickmi. You know you're talking in riddles, right?" He directed her chin toward him to get her attention. "I don't have a clue what you're talking about." She met his gaze but he could tell her focus was elsewhere. And her eyes were showing streaks of yellow. "What's up?"
She straightened herself, the slow turn of her eyes seemingly following a movement. He looked again. The floor between the offices and the exit was clear, and the glass door was slowly closing on its hinges. He wondered vaguely why the manager would hold the door to the restricted area open for so long before returning to the waiting area to attend to a couple senior citizens.
He was getting concerned. Something was not right.
He turned back to Mickmi but the teller caught his attention again, returning his card with the receipt. "Thank you. Have a good day."
"Thanks." He put his card back in his wallet and zipped up the pouch. When he was about to leave, he found that Mickmi was no longer by his side. She was standing in the middle of the floor, her head tilted, looking toward the exit.
He joined her. "What is it?" he said quietly. He didn't want to attract the attention of the security guard who stood with his back to them.
Mickmi turned around to face him. "See you the girl outside the door?"
Danny lifted his gaze to look and shook his head. "Mickmi. There's nobody there."
"She has brown hair, shorter than mine, and..." She frowned, glanced at the exit and back at him. Now her focus was fully on him, and the crease between her brows became deeper. "Daniel?"
Her hands flew up to either side of his face and immediately the warmth penetrated the tightness in his forehead, effecting a discernible shift behind his eyes.
"See you now?" she said, pointing with her eyes as she slowly lowered her hands to his chest.
Puzzled, he looked again, and this time he saw a girl looking out over the parking lot, with neck length hair, sleeveless turtleneck, and jeans. "Yeah..." What was going on?
The girl spun around and entered, taking four confident strides across the floor before her impassive light brown gaze locked with his. He registered a momentary surprise in her before a wave of dull pain hit him behind his eyes. He had to squint as his vision flickered and the girl faded. He rubbed his face.
"Daniel..." Mickmi touched his face again and his vision cleared up—the girl was still there.
"What the...?" What was happening to him?
Mickmi brought her hands down and grasped his hand firmly as she slowly side-stepped and turned. "Stop – manipulating – my – friend!" Her voice was low and controlled as she faced the girl.
Danny looked at Mickmi. He had never heard her use that tone of voice before, nor seen her with that expression. It was almost cold. But he was more perplexed when he looked back at the girl.
No longer was her focus on him. She was scanning Mickmi down and up to the scarf around her neck before meeting Mickmi's gaze for several seconds. Then the girl's eyes widened, her mouth opening to an uncertain smile. "Are you...?" Her breath escaped her as she covered her mouth for a second. "Mic Wamba... Is it you? " she whispered.
Danny looked from one to the other in confusion as Mickmi's grip tightened on his hand. She was still on the alert, staring at the girl.
"Mic Wamba?" The girl's brows rose. "It is you! You are still alive!"
Mic? Wamba? He'd heard 'Mic' before when he tried to get Mickmi to remember her name. She'd actually remembered!
Wait... Did this girl actually know Mickmi? "You know her?" he managed to say to the girl, but she was ignoring him.
He turned to Mickmi. She was frowning without taking her eyes off the girl.
A businessman passed them and exited the bank as the girl took a step toward them. "Remember me?"
She seemed sincere in seeking Mickmi's acknowledgment. She tilted her head, her brows contracting in disappointment. Then her hand flew up to her hair. "Oh... You recognize me not with my hair." She let out a small sigh, but then she brightened. "But you recognize this, do you not?" she added and pulled down the side of her turtleneck, exposing the intricate pattern of a silver collar.
Danny stared at the girl's neck in astonishment, a turmoil of feelings coursing through him. They're the same!
Mickmi did not respond. He could feel her tense beside him, her fingers stiff in his hand.
Just then the door to the restricted area opened and three young men—two black and one white—came out carrying five heavy duffel bags. They stared at Danny, Mickmi and the girl in surprise.
The girl seemed unconcerned with their approach and took a hesitant step forward. "Mic Wamba, I am so glad to see you... Out of everyone—you and I—we are still alive. I am L'or Aug. Remember you me not?"
Danny tried to pull Mickmi behind him but she resisted being shielded as the bigger of the black men handed one of his bags to his companion and walked briskly over to them. He dropped the other bag and grabbed the girl's arm, tugging her to him.
"What the fuck's going on here?" he hissed, eyeing Danny and Mickmi coldly. "Didn't you do everybody like you're supposed to? Why are they looking at us? Mind force them!"
The girl twisted her arm out of his grip. She showed no fear of the man. "That is my sister," she whispered. "I knew not that she was still—"
"Doesn't matter; you've got nobody on your slate," the man responded flatly. "A fresh start—you said so yourself. Look at her. She doesn't even know you." He glanced at Mickmi. "Now, remember, your job is to leave no witnesses. Do your job, or I'll do it for you. Got me? If I go outside and come back—" He leaned to the girl's ear and she paled.
Danny took a step in front of Mickmi, his heart pounding. The man tightened his dark gaze on him before picking up his bag and headed after the others who'd already exited. A black Dodge Tradesman van was waiting outside. The girl turned back to them, her expression impassive once more. But Danny could see she really wanted to talk with Mickmi.
"I apologize—we never met," she said with an undertone as Mickmi stepped to his side. "You never saw us."
The girl locked with Danny's gaze and he felt his vision starting to flicker with pain as heat shot up from Mickmi's hand to counteract the effect of whatever the girl was doing.
"We never met," the girl repeated through clenched jaws before she swiftly turned and headed for the door.
Mickmi faced Danny and placed her palm on his cheek, but he was following the girl with his gaze as she passed the oblivious security guard and went outside.
"They are hypnotized."
The girl's voice floated in through the closing glass door as she climbed into the van. Danny glimpsed the barrel of a gun protruding from the dark interior before he in one fluid motion hugged Mickmi and spun his back toward it, the pounding deafening his ears.
— ∞ —
© 2017 by kemorgan65