Final Quest (3 page)

- 5 -

A FRANTIC RESCUE

There’s no more time to waste.

“I’m going in,” I say with determination.

Even though I’m squashed in between both Jamie and Michael, they don’t react fast enough to stop me.

“Sandarium, Jennifer Johannseon.”

I crash into the woman who is sitting on top of the eleven year-old. The impact of my hit knocks the despicable woman off the small girl. At the same moment, I notice Jamie and Michael tumbling across the hard wooden floor. They must have been touching me when I commanded the emerald to bring me here.

Jamie leaps at the woman before I have a chance to decide what I’m going to do next. They are instantly wrestling on the floor. The woman glances at a multitude of weapons lying on a table, a step or two away from her.

Suddenly there’s a loud shout just steps away from me.

“Anyone else moves and this guy dies.”

An angry man is staring directly at me. One of his sinewy arms is clenched around Michael’s neck while his other hand is brandishing a rifle.

The enraged man jerks his rifle against the side of Michael’s head. Michael’s eyes are begging for help.

I consider my options. Can I use my emerald to free Michael, or do I run the risk of the rifle blowing Michael’s head apart?

I pray that no one moves. This is no time for Michael or Jamie to try to be a hero. Before that thought leaves my mind, the woman slashes her fist into Jamie’s face, knocking him backwards.

I visualize Drew and Jasmin lying on the ground outside, bleeding to death. Michael is a trigger pull away from death. Jamie is attempting to sit up on the floor, his eyes glazed, a trickle of blood dripping from his nose.

I feel the young girl’s body touching my legs. In the horror of the last few seconds, she has managed to roll closer to me for protection.

My mind is racing. I know I could use my emerald to escape with the young girl, but if I do this I would leave Jamie and Michael behind.

“How the hell did you get in here?” the agitated man barks at me, as he lowers his rifle slightly.

I hadn’t anticipated his question. I can’t let him know about the emerald.

I have to take action.

“Abruella, the rifle,” I shout.

A bolt of lightning smashes the gun out of the shocked man’s hands.

At the same moment, Michael twists free from him.

“Abruella!” I shout again as I point my emerald at the man.

A bolt of lightning leaps from my emerald driving the man with such tremendous force that he smashes through a wall.

“Emily!” Michael shouts.

The woman is holding a large knife as she steps towards me.

“Abruella!” I scream as I point my emerald at the woman.

A bolt of lightning smashes into the woman sending her in a somersault against a wall. She strikes her head with such force that she’s immediately unconscious.

The room is quiet.

A siren pierces the stillness.

I’m sure it’s the police, but I wonder who called them.

“We’ve got to get to Drew and Jasmin,” I say.

Michael and Jamie understand what I’m telling them. They’re instantly by my side.

I look at the girl who is at my feet.

Her arms are still tied. Her mouth is gagged. I undo the filthy rag around her mouth. I hug her.

“The police are here. You will be okay now.”

The girl gives me a weak smile.

She’s in shock.

I say, “Sandarium, Drew.”

I’m leaning over Drew who is lifeless on the ground. Beside him, Jasmin is sobbing. At least, she’s okay, I think to myself.

Two police cruisers are racing up the dirt road leading to the house.

“Everyone needs to touch me,” I command as I grasp Drew’s cold hand.

My friends reach out to me.

“Sandarium, my basement.”

- 6 -

ANONYMOUS HEROES

An hour ago, we were in a life and death struggle in a deserted house in Florida. Now we’re nervously reliving our adventure in the basement of my house.

Drew is okay. Miraculously the bullet hit his belt buckle which could have probably stopped a tank. When he fell to the ground from the force, he must have hit his head knocking him out.

Jasmin is okay as well. She was never hit by any bullets. When she heard the second shot, she dove to the ground to protect herself.

The one question that no one was able to answer was who called the police? None of us admitted doing this, although I caught a glimmer in Michael’s eyes that suggested he knew. Another question for another time with Michael.

On my basement TV, we’re watching the story unfold. Every TV station is reporting the sensational story about the rescue of eleven year-old Jennifer Johannseon at an abandoned house in Florida. Two people, a man and a woman, were believed to have been taken into custody. The girl was unhurt.

The puzzling question that keeps being asked is how did the police find the girl?

Although I wish I could talk to the girl, I realize this is not possible. Our Society of Spies has to remain anonymous. Even more important is the need to maintain the secrecy of my emerald.

I wonder what the girl will tell the police. Will the truth be covered up in the same way that what really happened in Rome never surfaced in any reporting?

“So what’s next?” Michael jokes, although I sense he’s probably more serious than the others realize.

For a moment I stare at Michael. He looks back at me as though he knows something that I don’t. It’s at this moment that I truly understand that our Society of Spies is not a childhood game for Michael. This is his life. This has become his reason for being.

As Jamie and Jasmin hypothesized about whether the police would ever trace what transpired this evening back to us, I’m sure that the trail is already dead. The possibility of the police or any other law agency discovering our involvement is long gone. Someone has already covered up our involvement. Someone is watching our every move.

“So, what’s next?” Jamie asks, repeating Michael’s question.

To think that I once lived a boring life. Be careful what you wish for.

Capurni’s voice has been echoing in my mind for more than a year. He has a mission for us.

I decide not to respond to Jamie or Michael at this time.

- 7 -

CABIN IN THE WOODS

The next day, TV broadcasts continued to talk about the police saving Jennifer Johannseon. The question that still hadn’t been answered was how the police knew where the girl had been taken. Apparently there had been an anonymous tip that led the police to the girl’s location. The question for me was who provided this tip?

I suspected that there would never be any mention of five teenagers risking their lives to save the young girl. The public would never know that Drew was almost killed, only to be saved by a massive belt buckle that stopped the bullet, but left with his mid-section badly bruised.

Our battle inside the isolated house with the abductors occurred so quickly that I doubt that Jennifer caught a good glimpse of any of us, although she certainly saw enough to realize that it was three teenagers who saved her.

What did the kidnappers say to the police?

The local police in Florida would take credit for the rescue.

My mother’s working late again tonight. I have decided to visit my father.

After Rome, my mother and he rented a small cabin about an hour’s drive from our house. Although it’s in a remote forested area, it isn’t so far away that he doesn’t have internet access that allows us to stay in touch. It was decided that he would live in the cabin until my mother and he were able to decide what to do next. After all, if he were to appear in public, he would immediately be identified as the evil monster in Rome who caused such destruction. If my father showed his face anywhere, he would either be arrested or worse torn apart by a crazy mob, or perhaps even worshipped by followers of Santtonnice.

For more than a decade, I had hoped to be reunited with my father. Now that it has happened, it’s difficult knowing that he might spend the rest of his life hiding away from the world. Although my mother and he have talked about extreme measures such as plastic surgery to alter his appearance, they haven’t made a decision yet.

Closing my eyes and forming a picture of my father, I say, “Sandarium, my father.”

I hear some birds chirping. I smell the fresh odor of pine trees around me.

“Welcome,” a familiar voice says as I feel my father’s arms hugging me. “What brings you here today? Could it possibly have anything to do with a young girl in Florida?”

I blink. How does my father know about my friends and I saving this girl?

“I spoke earlier with your mother,” my father continues as though he read my mind. “She told me that she suspected you and your friends were involved in saving the girl.”

I laugh, but it’s not genuine. Last night my mother was at work when we traveled to Florida. She was still at work when we arrived home. How could she possibly know about our involvement with the girl? Someone is watching over me and my friends, and my parents have contact with whoever it is.

“So you’re a hero again,” my father continues.

“Sort of,” I say sheepishly. In many ways I don’t feel like a hero. I guess I’m an anonymous hero, someone the world will never know is helping to make a difference on our planet.

“Does it sometimes bother you that part of your life is so secret?” my father asks.

In the brief time I have been reunited with my father, I have quickly learned that he’s very different than my mother. While my mother doesn’t want anything to do with talking about my life as Keeper of the Emerald, my father is extremely curious. He also seems to understand the confusion that I face in trying to decide how and when to use the emerald.

“Yes,” I say, walking to a couch that has a large window in front of it overlooking a snow covered forest.

“Want some water or juice?” my father asks.

“Water would be good.”

“And some cookies? I’ll put some in the oven for you.”

I smile. My father loves to bake me cookies. In the past ten days since my father moved into this cabin, I have visited him half-a-dozen times. Fresh chocolate chip cookies, being away from the fumes of the city, and good conversation tempt me to move to the cabin. If only there was a school nearby.

As my father begins the cookies, I stare out the window. The ground is covered with fresh white snow. The green boughs of the pine trees are also patched with mounds of fluffy snow.

“Everything okay?” my father asks.

I’m not sure where to begin. Do I want to talk to him about my friends? How they all seem to have grown up so fast. Do I want to talk to him about Drew? How he has changed, and not necessarily in a good way. Or do I want to talk to him about my feelings for Jamie?

“If you were me, would you use the emerald every day to stop the suffering that is constantly occurring in our world?” I say.

“You have told me much about the emerald over the past week or so, but I still need to learn more about it before I can answer your question. From what I do know though, it’s obvious that the emerald has great powers. If it should ever fall into the wrong hands, it could be used for great destruction.”

“That’s exactly what Capurni told me as well.”

A brilliant red cardinal flies to a snow covered branch in a pine tree in front of the window I’m gazing through. Its color looks spectacular against the pure white snow.

“I look forward to meeting Capurni someday,” my father says as he walks closer to me to see what I’m staring at.

“Beautiful,” he says as the cardinal poses for us.

On previous visits I told my father stories about Tamor and my adventure in the Land of Shade.

“And Capurni wants to meet you as well,” I say.

“I think it’s going to be very difficult for you to turn away from helping others who are in need, but…” my father says, not completing his sentence.

“But I also have to look after myself,” I complete his sentence. “It’s going to be so hard not to help others when I know I can make a difference for them.”

My father smiles at me as though he would like to say more, but having made his point, he’s content to let our conversation about the emerald die for the moment.

I feel a slight vibration on my wrist. It’s my spy-band. I realize someone has entered our S O S chat room.

My father returns back to the oven to check the cookies. I glance at the tiny screen on my wrist.

WISDOM: Where are you? The Stalker has been captured in Italy. We need to talk.

I catch my father looking at me.

“I’m able to communicate with my friends using this wrist watch,” I say, responding to my father’s unasked question.

“It’s certainly amazing how technology has changed during the time I was away.”

His comment flies by me as I think about what Jamie said.

“Em, you look upset. Everything okay?”

“I’m not sure. One of my friends informed me that the woman who was pretending to be mom a few weeks ago, the woman we called the Stalker, has been captured somewhere in Italy.”

My father steps from the small kitchen and walks to an end table near where I’m sitting. He picks up a remote and turns on a TV.

A news station immediately appears. I see a picture of some gondolas.

My father turns up the volume.

“We have a report that during the past hour, the woman who is believed to have been an accomplice of Santtonnice, a key figure in the troubling occurrence in Rome two weeks ago has been apprehended. Although details are still sketchy, it is believed that she was captured in Venice where she was trying to escape Italy by boat. This woman is also wanted for the murder of several people in the Washington area including the horrendous tragedy that occurred at the DC Jail a few weeks ago.”

No one has to tell me that this woman could tell the police about my emerald. She could also explain that Santtonnice is an alien. She could cause problems for me and my friends. We have to get to her before the police question her. If she tells the police about my emerald, I have a big problem.