Reynie had fitful nightmares; brief experiences of terror that disappeared before they could wake him. The small portion of his subconscious that was awake told him to rise, but the warning was no louder than a whisper.
"Don't worry about the danger, you deserve to rest. Doesn't it feel nice to rest?"
"Yes, yes it does," Reynie thought. Or perhaps he'd been thinking the whole time. How many of the voices in his head were actually the Whisperer, he did not know.
He fully woke only when the train creaked to a stop. Fellow passengers, also stirred from their slumber, rose to fetch their bags and exit the train. Reynie felt stiff from remaining in the same position for so long, but he didn't want to move just yet. Instead he gazed out the window, where the sun was just barely beginning to rise. The platform was crowded with people, some stepping out into the open air after the long trip, and others waiting patiently to board. It was a nice sight, until his eyes fell upon the police, waiting at the outpour of people. It was common for security to be high during an event such as the Tetherball World Championship. What was not common was police pulling aside passengers, removing hats, and comparing faces of confused and scared pedestrians to an image on a poster, clutched in their hands. Reynie saw them forcefully drag a brown-haired man away from his wife, only to let him go after realizing he wasn't who they were looking for.
Adrenaline coursed through Reynie's veins as Chandu's last words came back to him. He recoiled from the window, tightening his grip on his satchel.
"You alright, son?" Chandu still sat across from him, packing up his items into his carryon bag. Reynie licked his dry lips.
"Yes, just a nightmare," he lied.
"Ah, that's unfortunate. This might've been your last chance to get some good sleep," There was something sinister about his words, the undertone of a threat.
"Oh?" Reynie asked, "Why do you say that?"
Chandu chuckled, "The Tetherball Championship, of course! The streets will be filled with all sorts of raucous parties going on late into the night. What else would I mean?"
Reynie didn't answer. "I need to excuse myself," he said instead. He slid out of the booth and fought the flow of people, making his way towards the back of the train car. Chandu caught his arm. "We're already at the station. Why don't you use the facilities there? They're much nicer,"
Reynie tugged his arm out of his grasp, "That's alright. I'm sure they're much more crowded," and he left before Chandu could make any more objections.
He pushed through the crowd, not processing any of the noise around him. He could only hear his heartbeat, pumping rapidly in his chest. He could see the door at the end of the train car, leading out into open air and a chance at escape. He squeezed past one final passenger and rushed to the door. Grasping the doorknob, he twisted, but it barely budged. Locked. He dropped to his knee, pretending to tie his shoe. Instead, he loosed the laces of his Oxfords, and felt underneath the tongue until his fingers grasped something cool and slender. A lock pick. "Always good to be prepared," he whispered to himself.
Reynie went to insert the tools into the doorknob, but they slipped through his trembling hand. Stop it, he reprimanded You don't have time to mess this up. He got it on his second try. His hands were still shaking.
"Hey, calm down" Kate's voice was as clear as day. Suddenly, he was no longer on the train. He stood in a laboratory, a blaring alarm ringing throughout the room. Red lights flashed, illuminating Kate, who stood beside him. "Take a deep breath, huh? You're doing worse than Sticky,"
"Sorry," he sheepishly grinned, "but the imminent danger does tend to cause some unease. Are you sure you don't want to pick this one?"
"Nah, it's time to put all that practice to some use. I trust you,"
"Okay, but if we get caught, don't blame me,"
Kate snorted, "Just get going. You've done this a million times before."
Reynie took a deep breath and inserted the tension wrench.
"Keep that pressure steady, now put in your pick," He closed his eyes, picturing the lock mechanics. The first binding pin was usually at the very front, or the very back, but he tested all of them to be sure. His hand moved deftly, searching, and he smiled when he found the one that resisted more than the others.
"Not too much," Kate lightly touched his hand that was applying tension to the wrench. "Don't let the lock freeze," Suddenly, the lock turned, ever so slightly, and he knew he'd gotten the first pin. Kate was right. He did know how to do this. He moved with a practiced deftness, lifting the pins until finally, the lock clicked open.
Reynie laughed, and opened his eyes, but the laboratory was gone. He was back on the train, the door just slightly ajar, cool morning air blowing in. Reynie glanced over his shoulder, but no one had noticed him. He tucked the tools back into his shoe, and slipped out the door, closing it behind him. He stood on a small platform in between the cars. To one side was the platform, which seemed even more crowded with police than before. To the other was open woods. It wasn't a hard decision on which way to go. As he carefully climbed down, he noticed a little boy staring out at him from the other car, mouth agape. Reynie smiled and put a finger to his lip. The child nodded vehemently, before an unseen person took their arm and pulled them away from the window. There was a slight drop from the railway to the ground, and Reynie's knees buckled beneath him, still slightly asleep from the trip. He picked himself up, brushing leaves off his pants, and then took off into the woods. He had no idea where he was going, but he knew he didn't have long. Chandu would soon realize Reynie wasn't coming back, and it wouldn't be hard for the police to figure out where he'd gone.
Leaves crunched beneath his feet, and he breathed the cool air in deeply. Despite the circumstances, Reynie actually felt quite pleasant. Perhaps it was the lingering sense of triumph over his escape, or simply being able to move after being cramped up for so long. He knew that at least part of the feeling was due to the wonderful sensation of being on an adventure again. Though his trips were often perilous, it gave him a sense of purpose. That even though the world was falling apart, at least he was doing something.
After a few minutes, the running was not as fun, and Reynie stopped to take a breath. He leaned against an oak tree, and looked up at the frail leaves clinging desperately to its branches. He was in the middle wishing he'd packed a water bottle when he heard footsteps. He caught his breath. They were coming from behind, moving slowly, but most definitely in his direction. Should he run? He was still catching his breath, and he didn't know if this stranger had even seen him. But if they had…
The footsteps stopped. Reynie dared to peek out from around the tree. He gave a sigh of relief when he saw, not a police officer standing there, but a young woman. She concealed herself with tall boots and long pants, a thick sweater and gloves, and a mask that covered her nose and mouth. Her box braids were pulled up into a tight bun that exposed her shining eyes. She carried a small sack, tucked in the crook of her left arm. She wasn't looking at him, but rather kneeling on the ground, digging and tugging at something. Reynie felt a peculiar feeling of dejavu and, in a moment of desperate hope, he whispered "Rhonda?"
The woman looked up, eyes going wide. Reynie quickly ducked back behind the tree, berating himself. He'd known it wasn't her. This woman was taller and younger than Rhonda. But he had so hoped it was her; been so excited to see a familiar face.
"Who's there?" The woman asked into the open air. Reynie kept quiet. "I saw you," she continued. He heard a shuffling of fabric as the woman closed her bag.
"I'm not here to hurt you, okay?" Reynie called out to the woman.
"How do I know you're telling me the truth?"
"You'll just have to trust me," The woman didn't respond. Reynie stood, and slowly came out from behind the tree.
"Hey-" he began, when something flew past him. Quivering in the tree, just inches away from his face, was a pocket knife. "Woah! Calm down," he held out his hands defensively. "I said I'm not here to hurt you,"
"That was a warning," The woman's eyes squinted at him, "Who are you? And what are you doing out here?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Reynie glanced at her bag. Noticing his gaze, she tightened her grip on it defensively. "It looks like we both have something we're trying to protect," he continued, placing a hand on his own satchel. "So let's work together. I have people coming after me. Dangerous people. Let me go now, and you won't ever see me again. You can go back to your life, uninterrupted. You can leave with whatever is in that bag, and keep it safe."
She contemplated him, searching him up and down. "These dangerous people," she said cautiously, "are they coming soon?"
"I don't know, but I have to assume yes, they are," The woman looked off into the distance, as if even now expecting someone to come bursting out of the trees.
"Are they the police?" She did not shift her gaze.
"Do you really want to know?" Reynie asked, and the woman nodded. "Yes, the police are after me,"
The woman lingered a moment more, sighed, and then stuffed the bag in her sweater.
"Then you're coming with me," she said, and began walking away.
"I beg your pardon?" Reynie remained where he was.
"Hurry up! I don't want to meet your friends," she called back. Reynie ran to catch up with her long, fast strides.
"Ma'am I don't think you quite understand-" He began
"Don't tell me what I do or don't know," she interrupted.
"That's not what I meant,"
"Then what did you mean?" She pivoted on her heel to look him in the eye. Reynie faltered under her stare.
"Nothing," he finally said.
"Well, if you have nothing to say, why do I hear you talking?"
"I…well.." he stammered. She cocked an eyebrow waiting for an answer. "I'll just be quiet then,"
Then something very peculiar happened. For the first time, her eyes wrinkled, not in suspicion, but in a smile. Sure enough, she began to laugh.
"Oh, please forgive me," she said between chuckles, "I'm only teasing. Practicing, if you will,"
Reynie gave a forced laugh, "Right. Practicing what, exactly?"
"Just for my job, whenever I get to do that again," She didn't elaborate any further and resumed walking. Reynie hastily followed. She led him into a clearing, where a truck with chipping red paint sat waiting. A bumpy, dirt road stretched off in one direction. "Hop in!" She called, climbing into the driver's side and turning the ignition. Reynie clambered into the passenger seat, only to be reprimanded almost immediately. "Watch it! There are papers right there!" The woman grabbed them off the seat and tossed them into the back row, where there was even more clutter. It seemed there were papers everywhere. They littered the dash and the floor, where Reynie made good caution not to step on any. He picked one up, and saw several paragraphs typed up in black ink.
"This is a newspaper page," he said to himself.
"Yup!" The woman had heard him. "That's one of the last pages printed before the M.A.S.T.E.R took over and abolished newspapers years ago. You'd think by now I'd have cleaned out my car a bit, huh?" Her voice had filled with disgust as she said Curtain's self-declared title.
"Who are you?" Reynie asked in awe.
"There'll be plenty of time for formal introductions later. For now, you can call me Lea" As she spoke, she shifted the car into drive and it lurched forward. "I hope you're not queasy; it isn't a very smooth ride out of the forest,"
"I'm sure I'll be fine," Reynie said as he hastily put on his seatbelt, "But Lea, may I ask where we're going?"
"Home, of course!" and her foot dropped onto the gas pedal.
She hadn't been lying about the terrain, and Reynie began to feel unsure about his promise to keep his stomachs from turning. To distract himself, he picked up one of the papers at his feet and began to read.
TRIPPOLI COUNTRY FAIR: Smart Tips to Limit Spendings and Maximize Fun!
"Ah, I loved the fair," Lea said. Reynie looked up.
"Shouldn't you keep your eyes on the road?"
"Trust me, I've driven this path plenty of times before. I know what I'm doing,"
Reynie set the paper back down. "So what happened?"
"Curtain happened. You remember the first year following his takeover. No social events, 8 pm curfew; he basically outlawed fun!" Reynie nodded, remembering. In the moment, those months of forced hiding had been the worst of life. Now, he would give anything to go back to them. "The fair got cancelled, of course. But even when we got some of our freedom back, no one bothered to try and reinstate it. Shame, really. Trippoli is a big city, but the fair drew us all together. Now people feel more divided than ever."
Reynie looked out the window at the trees rolling by. "I know what you mean," he said, and that was the end of it.
It wasn't much longer until they pulled off the dirt path and into a parking lot with no cars. They were in a park with impressively thick trees that stretched up to the sky. Their large branches cast a crumbling play structure into shade, but Reynie could still make out a single girl, oscillating on the swing set. Lea put the car into park saying, "Give me a minute." She grabbed the small satchel and left the car, making her way towards the girl. Reynie watched from his seat. She opened the bag and pulled something out, something too small for Reynie to see. She placed it in the girl's palm and closed her fist around it. The girl smiled and said something he could not hear. Lea laughed, and mussed the young girl's hair, before returning to the car.
"What was that?" Reynie asked as she started the engine. Lea didn't answer him, and instead stared at the playground somberly. The little girl, whoever she was, jumped off the swing mid-motion and ran away, towards a beaten path.
"This playground used to swarm with children," Lea said, "Parents too. Throwing a ball for their kids, encouraging them down the slide, catching them when they fall off the monkey bars,"
Reynie followed her gaze. The structure was lonely, empty swings swaying in the wind, a lone baseball lying forgotten in the dirt. What good was a playground if there was no one around to play on it?
"Where are they now?" he asked
"There will be a day to play, not today, not today," she recited. Reynie's eyes widened. Memories of the Institute came rushing back. Sitting in class, listening to Jillson lecture them on both how much time they have, and how little time they have. This was one of the Institute's lessons, and one of Curtain's messages.
"That's…how do you know that?"
"Because I had it playing in my head on repeat," she said, "At least until I found out about these," She opened her sack and dumped out a familiar looking pile of plants.
"Releaf," Reynie murmured. Lea nodded. "You're a lover of truth,"
"Uh, sure. I'd been hearing voices for months when I heard whispers about a special plant that could help. One that the rebellion used. I figured it was worth searching for, and sure enough, I found several small patches in there," she jerked a thumb back towards the forest, "Takes some scavenging though. The deer like to snack on them,"
"We had that problem too," Reynie remembered, "A friend of mine set up a wildlife repelling system to keep the animals away. Maybe we could set up something similar here,"
"Are you with the rebellion?" The words came out all in a rush. Reynie looked at her carefully. He often prided himself on his ability to understand people, but this woman was a mystery to him.
"Are you?" He said.
"I asked you first,"
"And I asked you second,"
Lea glared at him. Reynie gave her a shrug, "I hope you don't take it personally. One just have to be careful with whom they trust, and if I'm honest, I don't entirely trust you,"
She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, contemplating. "Fine," she relented. She tugged down her mask and turned towards him. "My name is Leanelle Keita. I was a journalist and owner of the Trippoli Times before Curtain decided to put me out of business. I was born and raised in Trippoli, but my grandparents were immigrants from Mali. My favorite food is corn chowder, and my favorite color is vermillion. I hate rain and the M.A.S.T.E.R which, in my eyes, makes me a part of the rebellion. Is that good enough for you?"
There was a strange silence in the car as Reynie studied her. Surrounding her lips and on her lower face were patches of white skin.
"You have vitiligo," he finally said. Lea blinked, and he saw a hint of surprise on her face.
"Yeah, I do. Non-segmental,"
"That means it's symmetrical, right?"
She nodded. "I have some patches on my arms and hands too," She gave him a curious smile, "I've never met someone who knew about vitiligo, besides my old pediatrician I mean. Did your friend teach you about that too?"
"Different friend, but yes." Reynie could still recall the day that Sticky had summarized his latest read to him, which just so happened to be about skin conditions. In hindsight, Reynie was glad he'd paid attention.
"I suppose I owe you some answers," he continued.
"Yes that's usually how this works,"
"But before I begin, can I ask why your favorite food is corn chowder?"
Lea groaned. "Oh, not you too. My grandfather always teases me about that,"
Reynie laughed, "I'm sorry! I mean, it's not bad, but your favorite food? Have you ever tried cheesecake?"
"Cheesecake?" She said incredulously, "You like cheesecake? Are you a psychopath?"
"What's so wrong with cheesecake?"
"It's got the most awful texture. All mushy and lumpy. Ugh," She rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide her wide smile.
"I just don't think you have good taste," he joked.
"And this is coming from the guy in a sweater vest,"
"Hey! Sweater vests are very in style right now,"
"Whatever you have to tell yourself," The two locked eyes and they burst into laughter. Reynie couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so genuinely.
When they'd both settled down, Reynie cleared his throat and said, "How about I fill you in on the drive back to…where are we going again?"
Lea shifted the car out of park. "The former residence of Trippoli Times Printing and Press Distribution and the current residence of my grandfather and yours truly. It's not far, so talk fast." And so he did, although there wasn't much to tell. He was honest about his travel intentions, telling her he was seeking a psychic, and even going as far to show her his file. Such freedom in speech was uncommon for him, but contrary to his previous statement, he trusted Lea. It felt nice to trust someone after years of being constantly wary and vigilant. As he spoke, they drove through narrow cobblestone streets, small rectangular houses and businesses on either side of them. Pennants were strung between rooftops, supporting the colors of tetherball teams. They didn't pass any cars (the road would've been too narrow anyways), but they encountered many pedestrians, all of which Lea gave a friendly wave. They always waved back. It seemed she knew everyone in the neighborhood.
She probably does, being a journalist and all, Reynie realized.
When he was done with his tale, Lea whistled. "Wow. You've got a pretty big bounty on your head. I thought you looked familiar when I first saw you, but I didn't make the connection,"
"You'd be surprised how many people don't. I suppose it's one of the few benefits to looking average,"
"Or it's just 'A face that's scary, no need to be wary' being repeated in their minds," she recited another one of the subliminal messages. Reynie sat up straighter.
"Hey, you're right! That message is supposed to get the people to trust the police, but I bet it's making people overlook me as well. Curtain doesn't even realize it, but his messages are actually helping me hide!" He laughed in disbelief.
"We're here," Lea announced. Reynie looked out the front window as they approached a stone building. It looked to be about two stories tall, with four small windows. The upper windows had box planters, incredibly overgrown with yellow-green stalks, and red curtains hung behind the lower two. A small sign hung over the wooden door reading "The Trippoli Times'' in faded letters. Lea pulled into the alleyway beside it, which was so narrow, the car door hit against the wall when Reynie opened it.
"Sorry," he said to Lea.
"Don't worry about it," she told him, as she did the same thing with her door. "This car is already beaten up. It can't get much worse," Instead of leading him through the front door as Reynie expected, Lea showed him to the rear of the building. After several failed attempts to insert and turn her key, Reynie began to think he would need to pick another lock. But she got it on the fourth try, and they entered a small kitchen.
"Grandpa, I'm back! And I brought a friend!" She turned to Reynie and said, "I'll be making a batch of tea. Want some?"
Reynie nodded, "I'd hate to use up any of your resources, but I am due for another cup,"
Lea blew him off, "Don't be so self-conscious about it. We have this stockpiled," she shook the bag of Releaf. "But do me a favor and make some sandwiches. Everything you'll need is in that cabinet or the fridge. If we're going to have tea we might as well make a lunch out of it,"
Reynie set to work, gathering bread and deli meats. When Lea set the pot to boil, she came over to assist. The kettle had just begun to whistle when Reynie heard someone enter from behind him.
"It's about time, I've had a headache all morning," an elderly voice said. Reynie turned to see a man in a wheelchair make his way into the kitchen through a swinging gate that led into the rest of the home. He looked frail with age, but his stern glare kept Reynie from feeling any pity.
"Grandpa, your mind doesn't even resist the messages. Have you drank any water today?"
"That's not the point ," the old man grumbled. Lea shook her head, and gave Reynie a "Can you believe him?" smile. For the first time since he entered the kitchen, Lea's grandfather seemed to notice him.
"Who are you supposed to be?" He asked accusingly
"Gramps, this is Reynie. You'll know him from the Wanted posters," she told him as she poured the tea into cups. "Why don't you join us at the table? We were about to have lunch," The grandfather grunted in agreement and moved to the crooked wooden table that sat off to the side.
"I made you a sandwich, sir" Reynie offered, "Lea told me what you like,"
"It's Mr. Keita," he said, taking the plate from him. He removed the top piece of bread and examined it. "You don't skimp out on the mayo," he said, nodding with approval, "Good for you. He can stay, Lea. He knows how to make a proper sandwich,"
"I'm so glad that's your standard for the character of a person," Lea teased.
"Laugh all you want, but your grandmother made the finest food I'd ever tasted, and you only exist because I married her," He grabbed one of the cups of tea from the tray she'd brought over. Reynie took one himself, and enjoyed the clarity that came with taking the first sip. He never realized how cluttered the Whisperer made his mind until it was cleared away.
"How is Wendy?" Mr. Keita asked his granddaughter.
"As well as she can be," she turned to Reynie, "Wendy is the girl you saw me with at the park. She lived with her older brother until he was recruited for a training academy in downtown Trippoli. It didn't matter that he didn't want to go; they took him anyway," Reynie didn't need to ask who 'they' were. The answer was clear enough.
"So she's been living on her own?"
"Not exactly. Everyone does their part to take care of her. Families take turns delivering meals, some of the older children walk her to school. I bring her Releaf twice a week,"
Reynie sipped the last of his tea, "Does she, by any chance, exhibit unusual behavior?"
Lea raised an eyebrow. "You think she's a psychic?"
"I wouldn't know. That's why I'm asking you," Lea shook her head.
"I don't think she is. But I can always introduce you to her, and you can see for yourself,"
"That would be very kind of you. I'd hate to have to move her away from such
a supportive community, but if she is psychic, it might be for the best,"
Suddenly, an owl hoot reverberated through the room. Confused, Reynie stood and looked around, but Lea began to chuckle.
"It's just the doorbell, Reynie,"
Slightly embarrassed, Reynie sat back down. "You have an owl noise as your doorbell?"
"It's a long story. Gramps, would you-"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll get it. I can tell when I'm being excluded," he wheeled himself away from the table and out of the kitchen. Reynie watched him retreat.
"Is he…"
"He's just dramatic," Lea said with a roll of her eyes, "Comes from his years spent as an author, I think. Want more tea?" She asked, noting his empty cup. Reynie nodded and held out his cup. But as he listened to Mr. Keita answer the door, he almost dropped his cup in horror.
Mr. Keita gave a gruff "Who are you?" and the voice that answered was a familiar one, one that still sent chills down Reynie's spine.
"Good afternoon. The name's Crawlings, and this is my partner, Garrote. I hope you don't mind if we come in?"
