Page 23 of From the Noblest Motives
Blaze had seen everything, of course—every one of Damien's reactions, every moment of distress. Even if he hadn't, Damien wasn't about to start lying to him now. "That… That was my father."
"Huh." Blaze directed a glare toward the path Cyril had taken. "I wondered. He looks like you. The bastard."
"You're not surprised."
Blaze snorted and picked up his coat. "Of course I'm surprised, but you had to have a father somewhere in this world. Just wasn't sure he was still alive. What the hell did he want?"
"To see me. To educate me. To warn me." Damien slid a hand in his pocket, the edges of his father's card hard against his palm. "To offer help when we need it."
"When we need it? He's seeing trouble coming?"
"A storm brewing. An inevitable one, he thinks." Damien glanced up at Blaze with a little smile. "I didn't think I'd ever meet anyone more paranoid than I am."
"Wow. I didn't think you would, either." Blaze chuckled when Damien gave him a playful shove. "Any specific threats or just vague paranoid shit?"
"Vague up to a point. We know the variaphobe conservatives are dangerous. That's not news." Damien got them walking back toward the pod station, a niggle of annoyance lodged in his mind over the question he hadn't asked his father.What sort of variant are you?No need to askif, since throughout the conversation he had usedweandus. "What they'll do next. The when and how. I'm no clearer on that after this meeting, though I am more worried about Shudder now."
Blaze was silent for a few steps, before murmuring, "Yeah. Me, too."
6
OVER THE RIVER AND THROUGH THE WOODS
Earth surfing for any extended period got tiring. Doing it while making sure to flatten the dirt again once he'd passed, with a broken leg and probably a concussion or two was death-on-toast exhausting. By the time what little sky Shudder could see between the trees began to lighten, he knew he was miles from the prison, but he had no idea where he was.
Direction wasn't the issue. His internal compass was excellent, probably since he was so connected to the planet, but where, without a map, without having a good sense of the distance covered, was trickier. He hoped he would find the place he was certain lay this way—but he might miss it entirely.
He surfed on, drifting in and out, sometimes neglecting the need to cover his track. When he finally hit something that appeared to be a human-traveled path, he stopped and leaned back against an ancient cottonwood.Maybe just a little rest…
"Hey, mister! Hey! Are you dead?"
Shudder startled awake to find a serious pixie face with a mop of black hair staring down at him. "Hello, there. Not dead. At least I don't think so."
The face vanished and little feet ran off accompanied by shouts of, "Momma! Momma, come quick! Somebody's almost killed!"
Death would have less pain, I think. And nausea. And thirst. So thirsty.
The child's voice soon returned, accompanied by an older one. "All right, Maya, all right! Don't pull so hard. I'm coming. Where's whatever you're on about?"
"There! By that big fluffball tree."
"I see him, baby. Go run and get your uncles. We need some help to move him." Another face hovered over Shudder now, gold kissed, with dark eyes that conveyed sympathy and suspicion. "Well, you'd probably be pretty if you didn't look like three miles of torn-up road."
"Thank you." Shudder tried a smile. He had to try something, since his voice sounded like someone had taken a cheese grater to it. "I don't suppose you have a healer around here?"
"For sure we do. Meemaw Sekhet. The boys'll take you there, since I don't see you taking yourself."
"Oh. I know her," Shudder thought he managed to say before passing out again.
For what seemed a long while, he drifted, sometimes catching hints of conversations, sometimes aware of his limbs being moved, but all from a distance, vague and unimportant. When he did wake again, he was inside. Relief flooded him as he took in wooden walls that were brown instead of white, and cheerful, red-checked curtains drawn over the window.Ah, color.
He lay propped up in a bed, covered in clean blue linen. His torn and filthy prison clothes had been replaced by pajamas with a yellow duckie pattern. A little table beside him held a pitcher and a glass, but he couldn't convince his arm to lift far enough to get a drink. Wrung out, yes, he was that, but the horrible, throbbing pains of ripped scalp and broken leg had dulled to throbbing aches. He closed his eyes and drew in a slow breath, thanking the universe for healers.
"Eugene Shudder McKenzie, don't you lie there pretending you're asleep."
Shudder cracked his eyes open, blinking back grateful tears. The weathered, scowling woman at his bedside was one of the most beautiful sights he'd ever seen. "Hello, Meemaw Sekhet. Thank you for taking me in."
"Hmph. At least you still have your manners." She thumped her knotted cane on the floor. "The times you brought my grands home to me… well, a debt's a debt, young man. But you come from that prison. From that San Judas place."
