Meridian Page 6

  "The phone."

  "Who called?"

  "I don't know." I was still answering Tens's questions when Auntie got home. "I don't know," I kept repeating.

  Auntie rubbed my hands between hers as Tens filled her in. She nodded. "I see. That fits with gossip Winnie's daughter passed along. Meridian, you've come during a very volatile time in this community. This church—" "It's a cult," Tens interrupted. "It's not a church." Auntie fluttered her hands. "The leader, Reverend Perimo, is very charismatic and convincing. He calls it the Church of Forging Purity. He uses the Old Testament to turn back the clock on progress and to help people find blame for their dire circumstances." "Sounds peachy," I said.

  "Did you see the billboards coming into town?" "That's him?" I asked. "He's all movie-star-meets-plastic-surgery. He's a pastor?"

  Tens scowled. "Using the term loosely, yeah." Auntie sighed. "His sermon for Christmas was about cleaning up the town. He predicted God's wrath visited on outsiders and nonbelievers. He spoke of getting rid of the unrighteous, the unclean by Epiphany. He's told people the end days will start in Revelation; he's backed his claim up with signs that he mysteriously predicts ahead of time. Epiphany is the newest date he's received from above."

  "What is that, January sixth? That's not far away. Are they serious?"

  Auntie sat down and picked up her sewing. She started talking, disregarding me, her fingers stitching as though they belonged to a robot. "January sixth is the supposed baptism of Christ—combine that with the New Year and it's a powerful time. The Hansons' cattle were poisoned last week. They lost half the herd, and that's only the most recent event. Perimo has instituted a prayer list of people whose souls are in the most danger. Guess who's at the top of the list for pagan practices and witchcraft?"

  "He didn't." Tens stabbed his knife into the floor.

  "You?" I asked.

  She nodded. "There are many who want us dead. Human and not."

  "Are we evil?"

  "Heavens no. child. But people fear death, and loved ones often see us at the bedsides of the dying. It's easy in grief to give explanation to the wrong things."

  "Blame by association?" I asked.

  "Especially at this time in history. There was a time when death was longed for and celebrated."

  "Why?" Who wanted death? Who longs for an ending?

  "Life was harder. People grew weary or pained. The old called open their own windows with a purpose. The sick cast about till they, too, found a way. The soul was ready and willing to rest, to try again later. Death was merely a new beginning. But now ..." She trailed off.

  "Now?" I prompted her.

  "Now there are those who fear death more than anything. Other souls have everything they want right here. Plenty to eat. Health. Wealth. They get greedy. There are those who think if they get rid of us, they'll get rid of death itself."

  "But could they really get rid of death?" I asked.

  Auntie shook her head. "No, of course not. Death isn't us. We aren't bringers of it, nor do we hasten it. We are the pillows, the blankets, the hugs that accompany the sleep of death. Yes, that's it, we are the comfort. Our presence helps a soul find eternal peace." She paused. "Then there are those who work not for the Creators but for the Destroyers, trying to tip the balance away from the light."

  "The Aternocti are hunting us, aren't they?" I asked.

  She nodded. "Tens?"

  I blanched. "Sorry," I muttered to him.

  Tens snorted, but didn't glance up from whittling pieces of wood.

  "Tens, how much have you told her?" Auntie asked in an ominous tone.

  He set down his tools and stilled, staring first at me, then at Auntie. He shook his head. "Not all of it."

  "There's more?" I asked, my head already reeling.

  Auntie nodded. "Yes, death isn't the only choice you're faced with."

  Tens sprang to his feet and began pacing. "It's not viable. You shouldn't even tell her."

  Auntie put down her sewing and calmly said, "It's not up to you. You can't force Meridian—"

  He growled in frustration. "I know, but ..."

  My gaze bounced back and forth, watching one and then the other.

  "Trust—" Auntie broke off as headlights drew up to the house and car doors slammed.

  Tens walked to the window and stared out. "It's the sheriff." He went to open the door.

  Auntie wobbled as she got to her feet. "Oh my."

  "Are you okay?" I asked, reaching for her elbow to steady her.

  "Let's see what Sheriff Michaels has to say."

  Tens opened the door and the sheriff nodded at each of us. "Evening. Mrs. Fulbright. Tens. Miss." He didn't bother to come into the house. "Have you seen Celia Smithson wandering through your property tonight?"

  "No. What's going on?"

  "Seems the girl is missing. She was snowmobiling with her older brother and wandered off. He thought she'd gotten a ride home, so we don't know how long she's been missing. They were around the outskirts of where their property meets yours. Thought maybe you'd know something. Girl won't live the night if we don't find her soon."

  "Tens, get a chair." I clasped Auntie to me, supporting her weight as she seemed to collapse with this news.

  The sheriff helped me hold her in the foyer while Tens brought over a chair.

  "I'm fine. Stop fussing." Auntie batted us away.

  "You almost fell over!" I shushed her.

  "I'm fine. You have to go scout for Celia. She's a precious girl. Lovely. So full of life." Auntie pushed away our hands. "I'm fine. Tired, maybe."

  "Will you stay here and rest?" Tens knelt in front of her. His eyes shone with concern.

  She patted his hair. "Promise. Take Meridian and go check the property."

  "You be careful out there. I don't need my team searching for you, too. Take a rest, Mrs. Fulbright." Sheriff Michaels tipped his hat and shut the front door as he left.

  "I'm fine. Go," Auntie told Tens.

  "Okay. You ready for this?" Tens asked me, already pulling on his thick-soled boots and snowpants.

  I nodded, trying to at least project confidence, even if I didn't feel any.

  "Your mother shipped ski gear in the fall. It should all fit." Auntie pointed to a hall closet.

  I rummaged through an assortment of outfits I had shopped for online before school started—Mom had told me she wanted to plan a family ski vacation for winter break. That trip never materialized. How long had Mom been planning this?

  Tens hesitated and shared a glance with Auntie. "What if we find Celia and she's dy—"

  "She won't be," I interjected. I wasn't willing to go out there already believing it was too late for the little girl.

  "It would be very dangerous if that's the case." Auntie struggled to stand. "You're right, I should go instead."

  "No!" I shouted."I'll be fine. And so will she. You'll see. We will all be okay."

  Auntie nodded. Though she still seemed concerned, she didn't argue. I shot Tens a black stare. Regardless of the danger, a tiny, frail old lady wasn't stronger going out into the snowy wilderness than me.

  "If you're ready?" Tens opened the back door.

  "Ready." I donned the last of the black and emerald gear. "How do you walk in this stuff?"

  "You get used to it." Tens smiled at my stiff-legged waddle. "Let's go."

  * * *

  We plunged into the snowdrifts at the back of the property stumbling. The air squeezed my lungs with its crispness. We called "Celia!" every ten feet or so as we walked parallel to the stone bridge, listening to the creek bubble and ice crack in the distance. The world was so beautiful, bright snow covering it all. There were birds everywhere in the late afternoon, chirping and flying, an angel choir with wings. I wanted to pretend we were strolling for the beauty instead of seeking a lost and probably terrified little girl. I hoped she was alive.

  I sucked in the fresh air, enduring the unfamiliar snap in my lungs. A light sweat broke out along my brow.
I followed Tens along deer tracks and deeper into the forest.

  "Celia!" Tens yelled.

  "Celia?" I called.

  I stopped to listen. I heard something. A whimper. "Did you hear that, Tens?"

  "No. Hey I'm going to head over to the left here. There are Anasazi caves she might have crawled into. Keep me in sight at all times, okay?" He loped off, easily cutting through the snow when he didn't have to worry about me keeping up.

  I pushed through the muscle burn and aches. My body wasn't used to exercise. Concentrating on listening and watching, in addition to wading through the snow, was almost more than I could handle. A sound made me freeze in place. I was sure I'd heard something. I wasn't moving until I was positive it wasn't Celia. "Hello?" I whistled, too. "Is someone out there? I'm a friend."

  Tens turned in the distance, "You hear her?" he yelled, but I was barely able to make out his words. His outline stood stark against the snow and darkening forest around us.

  The birds disappeared with the falling night. I switched on my flashlight, swinging the arc of light over the animal path in front of me. Color at my feet snagged my attention.

  I bent down. A pink mitten.

  "Celia?" I yelled her name until my voice completely gave out and I couldn't even hear myself. She'd come this way for sure.

  Tens shouted, but I couldn't hear the words.

  Then, a high keening came. I swung the flashlight. "Hello?" The blood rushed in my ears,

  "Mommy?" A little voice sounded tired and far away.

  "Celia? Is that you? My name is Meridian. I'm a friend. Where are you?" I frantically shone the flashlight, but the trees all looked the same, snow drifted into piles beneath them. I couldn't find tracks.

  "Here ... I see light.... Hurt my leg."

  "That's my flashlight. Keep talking to me, Celia. It's so dark I can't see you. Have you ever played that game called Marco Polo?"

  "Yeah." She sounded quieter, as if I were moving away from her, even though I was standing still.

  "I'm going to keep calling out 'Marco' and you yell 'Polo' as loud as you can, okay?"

  “‘Kay."

  "Marco?"

  "Polo."

  I moved three steps to my left, every cell in my body tuned to listen for, and spot, a little girl. "Marco!" I shouted.

  "Po—"

  I didn't catch the last syllable. My heart beat itself into a frenzy. There were no other sounds in the forest, no distant lights, no sounds of the snowmobilers the sheriff had said were out searching.

  "Marco!" I called again. And waited. And waited. "Marco!" I tried again. Please, please, please answer me.

  There was rustling behind me. I turned my flashlight to spotlight the movement. "Custos." I'd never been happier to see anyone in my life. I shook the mitten under Custos's nose. "Find Celia, Custos, find the little girl."

  I saw a flashlight in the distance coming toward me, but I didn't have time to wait for Tens to reach me. I hoped he'd follow my light.

  Custos ran past me about twenty feet, then stopped and waited for me to catch up before running on ahead again. She ran to the edge of my limited vision, then disappeared behind trees.

  I heard her whining and moaning and pawing at the snow. I caught up and leaned down under low-hanging branches heavy with snow. A coppery scent I recognized as raw meat hung in the air. "Celia?" I was hoping Custos hadn't led me to the bear's den for dinner. I shoved branches out of my way.

  "Mommy?" A tiny shaking brunette reclined against the trunk of a birch tree. Her face was as pale as the snow around us, her eyes too big for her delicate face. Her ponytail slid to the side under a knit cap; her pink down coat appeared soaked with a dark liquid. She wore only one mitten, and she lifted her hands toward me as her teeth chattered.

  "I'm Meridian. Let's get you out of here." I leaned down to haul her upright and then stopped and stilled myself. Followed the deepening dark circle with the light.

  "I hurt my foot."

  I gagged. Her little foot, in its tiny pink Dora the Explorer boot, was caught in a trap, the kind of jawed trap I'd only ever seen in books about the pioneers of the Wild West. "What the hell?" I gasped. What was a trap like this doing on Auntie's property? There was no way Tens or Auntie would use such a cruel device.

  I wanted to run. I'm not brave. I'm not even remotely good in a crisis.

  The little girl started crying. "It hurts."

  I didn't have the first idea how to get the trap off. "Breathe, Meridian, breathe." I whispered. I lifted my head, hoping that Tens was gaining ground. I had no idea how much time had passed or how long we had before shock and blood loss affected her. I had to act. I had to save her or we were both in trouble.

  Custos stood next to me, watching, like she was waiting for me to get on with the part she couldn't do.

  "Okay, Celia, do you know how this thing works?"

  "You know you're not supposed to leave the trails?" she whimpered.

  "Really?" I grappled for a release bar. "Is there a switch?"

  "I got lost, so I stopped like I'm s'posed to. Then he said to wait over here for Daddy. That's when it got me, but he didn't come help me."

  "It's going to be okay. I'm going to get you back home to your mommy and daddy, okay?"

  "You pull it apart. My daddy has some, but he never uses them where people are."

  Contemplating her mangled foot, I wanted to ask why anyone would use them at all.

  "This is gonna hurt, but I have to get your foot out, okay?"

  "I know"

  "I want you to yell and scream as loud as you can, okay? I'll yell with you. On the count of three, start screaming, okay?"

  “‘Kay."

  "One." I braced myself and swallowed.

  Chapter 11

  "Two." I gritted my teeth.

  "Three."

  She opened her mouth and got the first scream out before the pain hit her brain and she passed out.

  "Let me help." Tens appeared at my elbow and steadied my hands.

  "Where were you?" I wanted to screech.

  "I found her footprints; they circled back here. I lost you in the dark. I'm sorry." Tens finished opening the trap, inching Celia's leg out of it.

  I held the jaws of the trap, praying the damn thing wouldn't spring shut and make Celia's wound even worse. We moved her before she regained consciousness. I hoped she'd revive. Blood oozed around the bone, the flesh torn and shredded. Could she survive the injury? She had to. I refused to contemplate the alternative. It was selfish, but if she died there was good chance I might too.

  "Dammit, I dropped my scarf." Tens glanced at me. "Give me yours. We have to stop the bleeding."' I gave him my scarf to tie around Celia's leg.

  "Okay. Custos, you better find people to help us. Find help," Tens commanded. Even bundled in layers, Celia couldn't have weighed forty pounds. "Their ranch is over that next ridge. It's faster to go ahead and meet up with the search party rather than go back to Auntie's. I hope they have an ambulance there."

  "But isn't Auntie's just back there?" I pointed behind us, seeing nothing but rolling white and pockets of forest.

  "Meridian, we've been out here for four hours. We're nowhere near Auntie's." Tens lifted Celia, tenderly cradling her inert form.

  I held the flashlights so he could see in front of him, and followed blindly in his tracks. It made wading through the snow arduous.

  Custos bounded ahead, waiting for us, then going on. I hoped she had the sense not to walk into another of the traps, and I prayed my foot wouldn't find one either. Celia's breathing grew shallow and irregular.

  "Hurry," I snapped, feeling the urgency, sure that we weren't moving fast enough. Weren't pushing hard enough.

  "I can't go any faster." Tens sped up just the same.

  "Oh. I know. Sorry." Of course he was doing his best. He knew what was at stake too.

  "I'm dizzy." A little voice interrupted us.

  Tens paused for a second. "Hi. Celia. We're taking you ho
me, okay?"

  I saw lights in the distance headed diagonally across the field. If they stayed that way, they'd miss us. "Tens? Look."

  He handed Celia to me. "Hold her. Keep her as warm as you can. I have to get their attention." He grabbed a light and plunged ahead, shouting and waving his arms,

  "Custos, bark, help us!" I pleaded.

  I unzipped my coat and wrapped it around Celia. The wet cold seeped into my skin and made me grit my teeth. "It's going to be okay. I promise."

  Celia was staring up at me in the beam of the flashlight. "You're pretty."

  "Thanks."

  "It'll be okay, you know." she said.

  "I should be reassuring you, not the other way around." I knelt in the snow, worried I'd drop her.

  "No, you don't really know, but you will."

  "Okay." I hugged her tighter against me.

  Her breathing slowed, but she opened her eyes and peered up at me. "Why did the man tell me to go under the tree?" Celia said.

  "That was mean."

  "What man, Celia? Who?" My left leg began throbbing and I felt pressure building inside of me. I looked around us, wondering if she knew what she was saying. I hadn't seen evidence of anyone else. Then I heard the dogs barking in the distance and the soft whir of snowmobiles, "Over here!" Tens boomed. A flurry of activity headed in our direction.

  Celia couldn't die. Not now. Not ever. But definitely not while I was holding her.

  "Hang on. Celia, they're almost here." I shook her as gently as I could, trying to keep her awake. A new, unfamiliar pain radiated up my leg. Fear sped up my breathing and my heartbeat.

  Tens ran toward us, plowing up powder. I cradled Celia's small form against me.

  "It's beautiful here," she said, snuggling into me with a sigh. "Thanks for finding me and fixing my leg. It doesn't hurt anymore."

  "Oh, I didn't..." I had to get away from her. I had to get her help. There were so many reasons this precious girl couldn't die.

  Custos howled. The lights rapidly came closer and Tens was silhouetted against the snowmobile headlights.

  I must have looked as terrible as I felt, because when Tens reached us he grabbed Celia from my arms and turned toward the snowmobiles. "Get away—go! Open the window!" he shouted, breaking the painful stupor I was sliding toward.