Jason waved to the rear compartment of the Otter. The hatch opened and two people climbed out in well-worn arctic gear. The woman tucked a long tail of curly black hair, shot through with a few strands of gray, back as she pulled up her parka’s hood. She was helped out by a taller man, ruggedly built, whose age most people would have never guessed. Like their gear, they looked well worn together, an inseparable couple.
Jason introduced them. “My mother, Ashley Carter. And stepdad, Benjamin Brust.”
Stella shook their hands, a surprised smile making her look even more beautiful. “It’s great to meet you both. Come inside and we can get you all warm.”
She led them all toward the Back Door station, the new entrance to the subterranean world below. As she turned way, Ben hung back and nudged Jason in the side with an elbow.
“Nice, mate,” Ben said, his Aussie accent twanging a little richer, like it always did when teasing him. “Now I see why you wanted to come and introduce us in person. Found yourself a little sheila.”
Both women glanced back at them.
Jason lowered his head, shaking it a bit.
Ben scooted up between the others and took both Ashley and Stella under his arms. “So the kid tells me you found an interesting cavern system under the ice.”
“Do you know much about caves?” Stella asked.
“I’ve been known to putter around a bit.”
His stepfather was actually an expert caver, with decades of experience, most of it right here on this continent.
“Well, I doubt you’ve seen anything like what we found down here,” Stella said proudly.
“You’d be surprised how much we have seen,” his mother said with a grin. “Someday we’ll have to invite you back to our place.”
Ben nodded. “Might be an adventure in there for all of us.” He glanced back to Jason. “What do you say? Up for some fun?”
Jason hurried to keep up with them.
Why did I think this was such a good idea?
8:23 P.M., EDT
Roanoke, Virginia
Kendall Hess drove the rental car up the long tree-lined entryway to the private mental health facility. Rolling manicured lawns spread to garden parkways and small fountains. The building itself was divided into four wings, branching out like a cross in the center of these highly secured grounds.
The hospital wasn’t on any directory and few knew of these forty acres that bordered the Blue Ridge Parkway outside of Roanoke, Virginia. It was for special cases, those of interest to national security. He had to reach out to contacts with BRAG, the FBI’s Bioterrorism Risk Assessment Group, to facilitate getting a bed here.
He pulled through the final checkpoint, showed his identification, and parked. He had to leave a fingerprint at the front desk and was escorted by one of the nurses.
“How’s he doing?” Kendall asked.
“The same. If you’d like to talk to his case clinician?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
The nurse—a soft-spoken, sober young woman dressed in blues and thick-soled shoes—glanced to him. “He does have a visitor.”
He nodded.
That was good.
They crossed together down a long sterile hall painted in pastel colors that were said to be soothing. Finally they reached a door that required a special passkey. It led to a small clinical assessment space neighboring the patient’s room. A one-way glass mirror separated the two spaces.
Kendall stepped to the viewing window. The neighboring room was paneled in rich woods, with a faux fireplace that flickered silk flames. Bookshelves lined the far wall, packed full.
He found it both sad and somehow reassuring that books still brought Cutter comfort, as if buried deep down under the assaulted cerebral cortex some memory persisted, some love of knowledge.
He saw that Ashuu sat in a corner, but she stared leadenly out the window.
Kendall had arranged for Cutter’s family to be taken care of, to offer them lodging and a small stipend to remain nearby. Jori was going to a local Roanoke school, settling in well with the adaptability of the young. Cutter’s wife was more worrisome. He suspected she would eventually return to the forests, maybe once Jori was in college. The child was bright, certainly his father’s son.
Cutter lay on his back on the bed, his wrists in padded restraints, not that he was violent, but sometimes he harmed himself if not watched. He did take daily walks with the staff, and as he was in the presence of the books, he was also calmer when out in nature, some echo of his former self.
“They’re getting him settled for the night,” the nurse said. “The boy reads to him most every evening.”
Kendall flicked on the intercom to listen as Jori sat on a bedside chair, the book propped on his thin knees, and read to his father.
The nurse nodded to the volume in hand. “His son told me his father used to read that book to him every night.”
Kendall read the title and felt a twinge of guilt.
Rudyard Kipling’s The Jungle Book.
Jori’s voice was sweet, full of love for the words, for the memories they conjured.
“This is the hour of pride and power,
Talon and tush and claw.
O hear the call! Good Hunting, All
That keep the Jungle Law!”
11:48 P.M.
Takoma Park, Maryland
Gray sat on the porch swing, a cool beer balanced on the rail in front of him. The night was still hot, over ninety degrees, heavily humid. It put him in a sour mood—or maybe it was the long day visiting various assisted living facilities, narrowing his choices to those with memory care units.
A cool hand slipped into his fingers. With just the touch, the pressure inside him loosened. He squeezed her hand, thanking her.
Seichan sat next to him, freshly returned from Hong Kong. She had dumped her bags at his apartment and come straight here, roaring down the street on her motorcycle, arriving in time for dinner. She and his father got along handsomely.
Then again, who wouldn’t?
Look at her.
Even in the darkness, she was a sculpture of grace and power, feral and tender, soft curve and hard muscle. Her eyes caught every bit of light. Her lips were as soft as silk. He lifted a hand and ran a finger down along her chin, tracing a trickle of sweat along the pulse of her throat.
God, how he had missed her.
Her voice dropped a full octave to a sultry darkness. “We should get you home.”
His body ached at that invitation.
“Go on ahead,” he said. “I’ll make sure the night nurse has everything she needs, then I’ll follow.”
Seichan stirred, began to rise, but she must have sensed something and settled back to the slats of the swing. “What’s wrong?”