Part 24
Back in Chicago...
Chelsea Perrit stepped out of Beecher Hall and braced herself. The minute she left the protection of the entryway, the torrential rain and the gusts of wind that blew it sideways slammed into her. She clutched her purse and her book bag close to her body as she worked her way across the street to her car in the museum parking lot. With wind this strong, there wasn't any point in carrying an umbrella anymore. She couldn't relax until she plopped her sodden body into the driver's seat and closed the door against the furious weather outside. Only then could she lean back and take the first breath since leaving the safety of the building. It was a miracle her car even started up in this weather.
For two days straight, this freak storm system that blew in out of nowhere had camped out over all five Great Lakes, and it didn't show any sign of slacking. People looked like shapeless blobs of weatherproof gear anymore--but as long as the roads were still passable, life wasn't completely shut down.
Chelsea felt the tacky sensation of her soaking clothes clinging to her skin and she groaned.
"Why do I have to keep going to school in this awful weather?" she groaned to herself as she pulled out onto the short road that would take her east toward Lake Shore Drive. Chelsea involuntarily leaned forward and squinted against the veritable waterfall sloshing over her windshield. Normally, she would feel guilty crawling at under 30 miles an hour down the main road, but it seemed to be the popular thing to do, anymore. Her headlights barely gave her visibility, and her wipers pumped at full speed, yet it barely seemed to make a difference.
"What in the heck?" She thought about flipping on the radio, but decided against it. The rain hammered loudly against her roof anyhow.
Movement in her periphery dragged her attention back to the road. She tensed as she watched a car moving much faster than hers slid sideways into the lane next to her. It coasted by her, water flying, and she watched the driver fight for control as a gust of wind that pounded the side of her car caught the fast-moving vehicle and spun it sideways. Chelsea cringed, but at least the honking cars managed to drive around the vehicle as it slid through the guard rail and tumbled over the grassy shoulder. That was one car that probably wouldn't make it back home anytime soon.
Finally, after her twenty-minute commute stretched almost to forty-five minutes, Chelsea made it home. She pulled into the garage and just sat, grateful for the security and silence that surrounded her now. Her mind drifted to the five classmates on the faraway Greek island field trip. What sort of weather did they have in Greece, she wondered. She shook her head as she dragged her soggy self into the house, confirmed her arrival with her parent, and trudged upstairs to her room.
A nice, warm shower and a change of dry clothes later, and Chelsea felt more relaxed and human. On a whim, she checked the weather over the Mediterranean--balmy, mild temperatures.
"Of course they would," she grumbled to herself, setting everything aside to do some studying and finish homework assignments before bed.
That night, Chelsea Perrit dreamed. She saw the swirling clouds and the angry bolts of lightning, the churning Lakes and the drowning streets--and above it all, she saw giant figures clad in tunics and robes, tossing weather patterns at the globe like a kid throwing pebbles into a puddle.
A thunderbolt clapped, and Chelsea rocketed into wakefulness. Her scalp crawled with sweat and her heart pounded against her ribcage. The dream had been so vivid--she rolled her eyes and blamed the Ancient Folklore lesson she'd been studying just before going to sleep.
All the same, she thought to herself as she settled back into bed and tried to find something else to think about while she slept, What if this strange weather pattern and the others going off on that Fourtouna trip were related? After all, there was nothing that said those movies about archaeological discoveries bringing global catastrophes couldn't possibly happen in real life. One had to wonder... What were the odds that her friends accidentally unearthed some dangerous artifact without realizing it--and everyone in Chicago was paying the price right now?
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Meanwhile, on Fourtouna...
At the table with Tony outside the research RV, I recognized Laila and the woman with the thin hair from the temple area. They had a map between them, and they were tracing lines along it with plastic pointers while muttering to themselves.
Dane lifted his head, reading from his paper. "What if... Facing the sun and letting the tide flow means that in order to see the temple we have to go down to a certain area of the shore? Would that be low tide, or high tide?"
Ponytail Woman huffed. "Then why would the inscription be buried so far underground, if the whole point of it was to direct the supplicants back to the surface again?"
"Besides," Laila pointed out. "I'm inclined to agree with Greg--the wall is definitely concealing the directions to another region of the temple we haven't unlocked yet. He's down there with Drea--they think they've found the sanctuary door, so they're going to try and figure out how to get it open."
Dane snorted as he worked off a list of possible translations for each word. "Hope they don't have to resort to using dynamite, after the earthquake that happened this morning!"
Tony finally noticed me hovering over his shoulder. "Pris!" he grinned. "How's Jordyn doing?"
I shrugged. "She's feeling a little better. What are you working on here?"
He showed me his paper, with a diagram of the main temple area at the bottom. "We're trying to work out what the inscription means from here. We have a few working theories, trying to come up with times and locations on the island that match all the clues given. It's pretty mind-bending stuff!"
I hesitated, fidgeting with the collar of my shirt. "Can I... Can we talk, Tony?" I asked, while madly attempting to organize my thoughts so that I could prioritize what needed to be said, without revealing too much, in case anyone overheard us.
He laid down his pencil and stretched. "Sure, I could use a break."
We withdrew to a table near the trees. I glanced around to make sure Herrin wasn't skulking behind one of them. On the edge of camp, I saw Derrick come out of the tree line, and plop down where Kayce was sitting on a rock. For all intents and purposes, they were just two friends hanging out together. My plan was working, but I had limited time to tell Tony about it before my turn came.
"What's up?" he asked me.
I closed my eyes, focused my attention on the locket resting against my sternum, and said, "I'm worried about my parents." There, not technically a lie--but also not revealing that they might be responsible for the storms happening over the Northeastern US.
He nodded. "Oh yeah, the storms? Pretty crazy stuff."
"That, and the fact that it means we don't have contact with them from here," I said.
Tony wagged his head. "Wow, that's a real bummer," he muttered. "Guess we're more off the grid than we ever thought we would be, way out here."
I tilted my head. "Wouldn't you want to get in contact with your parents, now that we've been out on this trip for three days?"
He squinted suspiciously at me. "What are you driving at, Pris?"
I held up my hands. "Whoa, okay--no need to get defensive at me. I just thought, with the health crisis that just went down, like, last week..." I shrugged. "I figured, you know, they'd want to hear from you. And I thought you'd want to hear from them, just to make sure we're all safe."
He seemed to mull this over for several moments, as if there were multiple options to consider, instead of just talk to the parents and no contact with the parents. "I thought you said that contact with the mainland is not possible right now."
I felt the wind kick up around my bare shins. The sensation brought to mind the wind-sprites I had seen, and made me think of my mom. I dove headfirst into exposing our plan. "It isn't from here," I said with especial emphasis, "but if we were to take a boat out to the mainland..."
"You think Stephanie would let you do that?" Tony pointed out.
Maybe Jordyn was right about his analytical, logistical mind. I shook my head. "Probably not. And Professor Silver I know would rather not do anything that jeopardizes his contact with the Foundation, as Chicago-U's representative. But if we were to just slip away for the day and not tell anyone..." I watched his face carefully for what his reaction might be.
Tony leaned forward, his expression full of interest. "Really? You think we could pull this off?"
I smiled. He was in. "Already in motion. Kayce knows how to work the boat, so we're all packing things up--"
"I thought Kayce and Derrick and Jordyn were all sick."
"Jordyn was a little," I admitted. "But the guys were just acting. Everybody's fine now, and we're using that as a cover to be able to sneak in and out of the camp without anyone realizing it." I grasped his hand. "What do you think?"
Tony pressed his lips and tapped his chin. "Just how much supplies are we talking, here? We can't really sneak out with all our luggage."
I nodded. "Already thought of that. The way I see it, we can be out and back in a day or two, if all we're doing is making phone calls. That way, either Professor Silver and Stephanie can conclude that we're coming back at some point, or if we don't make it back in a couple days, we can leave a message to say that the Foundation can mail the rest of our things back home. For this trip, you can bring only what we'll need."
Footsteps crunched in the dirt behind us. Tony and I both turned, and Kayce stood at the edge of the camp. He nodded to me, and pulled back his sleeve, revealing a bright blue blotch on his palm. I wasn't sure where he'd gotten the paint from, but I understood his message: The trail to the hiding place is marked with blue paint.
As Kayce walked away, I nudged Tony. "I've gotta go pack now, and when I get back, you can go back to your tent and pack things up. When you're done, just come out here, and we'll know that everything is ready."
Tony nodded. "Got it. I guess I'd better get back to the translation while I'm waiting. They're pretty close to figuring things out, I think."
I stood and stretched. "Then we'd better be on our way before they rope us into going back down to the dig site again."
“I thought you’d be excited to get back out there again.”
I winced. I knew we’d been talking too long already. The kitchen crew was hard at work setting up lunch. If we didn’t get out before that klaxon sounded, there was a good chance we wouldn’t make it at all.
“There’s more to it,” I whispered to Tony, “but I’ll explain later, when we’re on the boat.”
He nodded and we parted ways.
I meandered toward the RVs a little, just to look like I was getting bored. The kitchen staffers were setting out the tables. We didn’t have much time before the second shift would be heading out, and the first shift just returning for lunch.
Once I was certain nobody was watching, I headed back to the tent.
It was a little strange seeing Jordyn's side of the tent all neat and packed up. She'd taken her sleeping bag with her, I saw, and though her rolling suitcase was there, it looked much emptier than when we'd left the hostel on the mainland. I noticed a note on top of her things, addressed to Professor Silver. I guessed it would probably inform him that we'd gone to the mainland, and we expected to be back, but if not, to contact our families, or something like that.
I pulled the hiking backpack out of my suitcase. I'd intended to use this for, like, if we went out for an overnight hike into the wilds, in case the operation was spread out over a large area with not a whole lot of room for an entire suitcase. The fact that this group seemed to be centered around one side of the island meant that I wouldn't really need it, except for this. I packed some fresh clothes for layering if necessary, a blanket, some basic toiletries, my survival gear (a flashlight, utility knife, first-aid kit, and the steel-lined water-bottle with built-in filtration, in case water was scarce) and the books from my Mom's library that I'd brought with me. If we were just going to the mainland temporarily, I didn't suppose we'd be needing these, but I had a feeling it would be safer if I kept them with me.
I peeked out of the tent flap to see if anybody would notice me walking out with a full backpack.
The ATV rumbled into camp with the first load of diggers. I could hear a lot of voices complaining very loudly about something, but I was more concerned with sight than sound. I saw black-shirted, gun-toting guards, but they weren't looking toward the tents. I slipped down the side and into the trees, watching carefully to avoid any of the really noisy bracken.
My eyes found the blotches of blue, standing out among the green and brown of the trees. Kayce did a good job of randomizing the placement, sometimes swiping trees, another times a bush, and sometimes when I could find neither of these, I would look down and see a rock on the ground with that same powder-blue shade, or find the color splattered over an area as if he'd sprayed a bunch of pine needles and scattered them to make the trail harder to find if you weren't actively looking for it.
To top it all off, I reached the point when I could see the edge of the island and hear the crashing waves of the sea beyond it, so I knew it must be close--when a breeze caught my shirt and tugged me strongly off to the left. It felt so much like a physical shape had collided with me that I looked in that direction.
Sure enough, the shadowy form of a wind-sprite drifted between two trees and then rocketed toward the canopy, creating a bunch of creaking and snapping noises that made it easy for me to hide in. The breeze stirred the loose branches of what looked like a bush--but a bright-orange patch just behind it proved to be the pocket of Derrick's backpack, concealed behind the carefully-arranged pile of loose branches.
I knelt by the pile and shoved my backpack in there.
The breeze returned, blowing steadily against my shoulder. Absentmindedly, I murmured a quick, "Thanks," over my shoulder.
The breeze brushed past the back of my neck and disappeared. My skin tingled from the realization: had I just addressed the wind as if it was a living thing? Was this what it felt like to be a descendent of gods?
I shook my head as I let my feet wander in a roundabout direction toward the edge of the tree line.
The first group was already seated and eating--it looked to be two kinds of sandwiches today--and I saw Professor Silver standing in the middle of the space, fidgeting awkwardly and looking every which way as if searching the crowd.
Tony slipped toward me from the side, and grabbed my arm.
"My turn?" he whispered in my ear.
I nodded to him, and he melted back into the milling group again. At the same time, our chaperone caught sight of me and his face broke into a relieved smile.
"Ah, Priscilla! I was wondering where you all had run off to," he said, coming to stand very close to me. He frowned over my shoulder. "Wasn't that Tony you were just talking to? It's about time for lunch, and we want to be ready for a full afternoon, don't we?"
I nodded. "He just had to grab something from his tent really quick." All around us, the lunch line lengthened and the number of people swelled as the second shift returned, ready and hungry.
Professor Silver fidgeted worse than ever. "I thought I saw Kayce and Derrick up near the front of the line..." he murmured.
I already knew they wouldn't be hanging around to have lunch. Not when there was a golden opportunity for us to take our leave. If they had jumped in line early, it was probably to grab us something to eat once we'd left the island behind.
I proceeded to pinch my knees close together and jig from foot to foot. "They've probably already found a table somewhere. We'd better just hop in line where we can, rather than trying to find them in all this craziness."
Silver caught my movements and furrowed his brow. "What's gotten into you? Are you feeling sick now?"
I shook my head. "No, I just, uh, I have to use the bathroom really quick before we eat. Save a spot in line, would you mind?"
The obliging professor nodded. "Oh, absolutely. Go right ahead." He waved me off, and focused on finding the end of the line.
I slipped past the waiting people, heading toward the bank of portable toilets, right until my path crossed close to the forest. I relaxed my stance and ducked into the trees, making sure to travel deep enough before circling around and toward the hiding place.
Sure enough, the others were already waiting.
Derrick handed me my backpack and gave the strap of his own a tug over his shoulder.
"Ready to go?" he asked.
I nodded.
The five of us made our way down to the path that led to the dock.
"Remember," Kayce muttered over his shoulder, "if we behave like we're supposed to be here, no one should question it."
I steeled myself, squelching the self-conscious thoughts and reminding myself that what we were doing was totally normal, nothing out of the ordinary. Jordyn laughed as if someone had told her a joke, and Derrick stomped around without worrying about how much noise we were making.
We made it to the dock, well aware of the black-garbed men watching from the edge of the beach. We'd attracted their attention, for sure--but as long as they couldn't tell if we were doing anything we weren't supposed to, they couldn't stop us, could they?
Derrick stepped onto the dock and stopped in his tracks.
"Oh crap," he muttered.
"Well..." Kayce blurted, "that's not good!"
One boat sat moored to the dock--and the pieces of its outboard motor lay strewn around the end of it.
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