Chapter 5
Honesty In
Small Doses
Lillian
AS THE LIGHTS in our cabin extinguish for the final time on our voyage, I try not to find things in the shadows that aren’t there. It’s gotten harder and harder to do now that Macapá, Brazil draws closer; we’ll be there by midday tomorrow.
It’s been quiet since the day we chased a man through the halls of our ship. Despite the sense of security, Margaret and I have taken precautions, and the men have tripled their rounds. Still, there has not been one whisper of German.
Whether we get answers as to why the man ran or not, it doesn’t really matter. We’ll reach land tomorrow, and the adventure will begin. A jolt of excitement rushes through me when I think about seeing Ademir and Bruno once again.
“Are you alright over there, Lillian?” Margaret whispers through the dark. “I haven’t lost you to the nightmares already have I?”
“No,” I whisper back as I turn to face her. “No, you haven’t lost me quite yet.”
Margaret’s sheets shuffle as she pushes up on her elbows. I can make out the glistening of her blue eyes through the dark. “Do you think they’ll be unbearable?”
She asks so many questions—something Ben warned me against—but I’ve found it soothing to answer her. “As long as you hear something helpful, I wouldn’t mind them being a little extreme.”
We both eye her journal resting on the bedside table.
She’s been writing down what she hears, and while most of it isn’t helpful, the whispers have returned in new variations.
Last time it was both a warning and clue; I expect nothing less this time around.
Despite the oftentimes shocking nature of my dreams, Margaret has listened with respect and sympathy.
I can tell that she sees it as a puzzle to solve, and that is something I have quickly grown to love about the woman.
She’s here to learn, explore, and do something bigger than herself. She reminds me of a younger me.
I smile through the dark before rolling to my back. “Shouldn’t you get some rest?” I ask, trying not to sound so much like a mother hen.
“Like you ever sleep the night before a mission,” she answers, not an ounce of sleep in her voice.
Only out of fear of dreaming out loud, I think to myself.
When I don’t answer, I hear the comforter rustle and then the weight of her on the edge of my mattress.
“I just want one more night of peace,” I answer.
Tomorrow we’ll be out on the trail. Feathered beds will turn to rolls on the forest floor, and the ceiling overhead will become canvas and leather.
“I can see it on your face, even through the dark,” Margaret says, peering down at me. “Sleep, Lillian. Push all that unknown out of your head and do your best to find some rest.” Her hand slips across the covers until it finds mine. “I will be right here for you if you start to get pulled away.”
What I say next surprises me. “I hate that you have to do this for me.” I’d thoroughly enjoyed having her beside me to help uncover the secrets of my dreams, but I’ve still held back from her.
There are still secrets I’ve kept to myself about the necklace and dagger.
“It’s not fair to you for me to put so much on you, and so early on. ”
She snorts. “I live for it.”
This causes me to loosen. I have to remind myself of the very thing I told Ben days ago. She is here for a reason; my allies chose to put her on this team for a reason.
Settling back, I release Margaret’s hand and pull the covers up to my chin. “Don’t let me keep you up too long. If it’s a repeat—”
“I know the sequence, Lillian. Despite my exterior, I make for a very good, rule-following soldier. I’ll record what I hear and will wake you when necessary. Trust me, please.”
It’s all I need to hear. I give her one curt nod before she retreats from my side to her own bed. As the noise of the ship’s engines thrum below and the lapping of the water sounds outside, I let the white noise overtake me.
One more night and I’ll be safely on land again. My home.
There is no reprieve from the violence. A place that was once full of love and peace comes undone in the blink of an eye. Darkness spreads from home to home; people fall dead in the streets that once were a place of safety.
Then there is me, clawing my way forward toward that blurred fortress buried within the mountain. I can do nothing but scream in the agony of the suffocating blackness that consumes everything in its path. But I must make it. I must. The answers I’ve scratched and clawed for are there.
When I think I might reach the iron gates in front of me, I force a look behind.
The shadow has consumed everything. The moment of hesitation ruins everything.
A wicked snare in the form of a violent hand latches onto my necklace.
“I am waiting for you,” a dark voice says before a hand shoves me violently.
The necklace is torn from my neck as I’m pushed backwards. Losing my balance, I go tumbling into an endless nothingness. Nothingness that transforms into a muffled struggle and then the feeling of suffocation.
The real world comes into focus in the form of the ceiling overhead and the scratchiness of the mattress beneath me.
I’ve hardly mourned the loss of my necklace in my dream before I feel a man’s hand clamped hard over my mouth and nose.
The moment I come to, I’m forcefully dragged from my bed.
I get twisted up in my sheets as I claw at the hand that has me.
Throwing all my weight to the floor, I manage to topple him to the side.
He keeps his footing, but it gives me a clear view of the rest of the room and a chance to breathe.
Two others hover over my trunk, tossing things about.
Only when I see them open one of my journals do I finally respond.
I raise a knee and do my best to stamp on my captor’s foot, but my feet are bare and he’s wearing boots.
My sad attempt does nothing but make him hold onto me harder.
His hand finds my face again, but he only manages to clamp down over my mouth.
“Keep searching!” the man says in German.
This only makes me pause again. This cannot be happening.
The fear sets in when I peer to my right and find Margaret being held against the floor.
She’s not resisting, but her back is heaving up and down in the effort to breathe, so I know she’s at least alive.
When they don’t find what they’re looking for in my trunk, one man moves to the drawers at the nightstand.
Fighting against the man with a hold on me, I look to see that Margaret’s journal is not in sight.
It’s not as if it would give them any real clues, but any information given to them puts them closer.
A thump from outside our room has all four men looking toward the closed door. Using their pause to my advantage, I part my lips and bite down hard on the man’s middle finger. He curses and I push away. Leaping atop the man holding Margaret, I let out a scream, begging for anyone to help us.
“Take her!” I hear one of the men say before someone grabs the collar of my nightgown and throws me to the side. This time a cloth is forced over my mouth and nose. My eyes widen at the foul odor.
One breath, my vision is already dimming at the edges. Two breaths, a pocket radio is procured and a signal is made. Three breaths, Diederick and Oliver come crashing through the door, and a gun is drawn. Four breaths, Margaret is hauled to her feet and everything goes completely black.