Born of Treasure (Treasure Chronicles Book 2) (11 page)

He rubbed her back as he watched the countryside pass by outside the window in the door. That tree with the hole in the center where a raccoon lived… that maple with the birdhouse Georgette had designed and Jeremiah had constructed… the strawberry patch in which Georgette said they had picking parties every year… it all felt familiar. Clark touched his lips to the top of Amethyst’s head. Not since his childhood in Tangled Wire had he felt as though he belonged somewhere.

He and Amethyst might have been traveling, and he might have his father’s house in Hedlund City, but he recognized these sights. He didn’t have to feel as though he were being driven away, never to come back. The Treasures had welcomed him, offered him a place in their home.

He belonged at their ranch more than he’d ever done in Tangled Wire. They gave him chores, the ranch hands respected him—they never spoke to him in a condescending way, as he’d been spoken to when he’d worked odd jobs around the state. Back in Tangled Wire, he’d known he only had a home because his mother worked. If she couldn’t attract customers, or the saloon closed, they’d have to go elsewhere.

Amethyst lolled her head against him and he tightened his arm around her to keep her from slipping to the floor. They would have to find an appropriate time to tell her family the truth: the serum, the ability to communicate with ghosts, helping his father find the inventions.

The marriage.

He kissed her head again. He hadn’t meant to lie to them. If Eric hadn’t shown up, Clark would still think as they did.

The Treasure steamcoach pulled into the circle around the house. He shook her shoulder. “Sweetheart, we’re here.”

“You feel so good,” she mumbled.

He chuckled. “I’m glad I make a good pillow.” He pushed her upright and straightened her jacket. She kissed his lips fast before opening the door and jumping out, her bustle bouncing.

“I’m
home
.” She stretched her arms. “Who missed me the most?”

Georgette rose from her perch on the porch. “Welcome back.”

“Where is everyone?” Amethyst pressed her hands to her hips.

“We’re preparing for the Hedlund Day celebration.” Georgette sashayed down the steps. “I trust you had a nice journey.”

Something in her stiffness didn’t ring true. Something irritated her. Clark hopped down behind Amethyst.

“I thought you were a proper young lady,” he joked. “You’re supposed to be helped out of your coach.”

Georgette pursed her lips. She should’ve laughed. Amethyst swatted his arm.

“Clark told me about Hedlund Day,” she said. “You’ve never invited me before.”

“You wouldn’t have come.” Georgette glanced toward the barn. “I suppose we can go see your father. He’s in the field behind the barn preparing with the others. We needed the biggest space, what with so many people attending.”

“Father, I’m home!” Amethyst skipped toward the closest barn, swinging her skirts around her legs.

Clark grasped Georgette’s hand when she moved to follow. “What’s wrong, ma’am?”

Georgette sighed. “I understand that Zachariah loves the army and wants to move up in the ranks, but is that the right life for him? I’d always hoped he’d attend a university, become a doctor or a lawyer. He loved his schoolwork.”

Clark linked his arm through hers as they trailed after Amethyst. He knew how cruel the army could be, hunting a teenage boy to use as a test subject, killing innocent Tarnished Silvers to get what they wanted. “Zachariah has to make his own choice.” Freedom was the best opportunity a man could have. Clark knew—he’d been denied it as long as he could remember. Running wild in a mining town didn’t count for anything special.

She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Are these the type of people he should associate with? He’s not a poor farmer or a fifth son. We’re able to give him anything he wants.”

“He needs to find his own path.” Those words couldn’t help Georgette, but she couldn’t control her son’s life no matter what she wanted for him. Clark’s mother had hated the dangers of the mine, but she’d never forbidden him from that work.

“You could go work on a ranch,” she’d told him whenever he came home coughing.

“I can’t leave you,” he’d said, and his mother had never pressed.

Garth emerged from behind the barn and hugged Amethyst. He waved to Clark and Georgette before stepping back around.

“I hate these people,” Georgette hissed. “I’d love to turn them out with a whack to the head, but the government would come after me. Do you know they abuse our Bromi? No human being deserves such ill treatment.”

“The ranch hands? They were honest men. You got new ones?” Garth had introduced him to all the workers. They were men with hard luck or who wanted an outdoor life. They appreciated Garth’s fair pay and time off. Some ranches had the men working sunup to sun down, and sometimes at night, with little sleep and no days of rest.

“No.” Georgette wrinkled her nose.

“Run!” Amethyst darted around the barn, one hand holding her skirts up and her other one waving overhead.

“The army,” Georgette continued. “They’ve been here insisting on having this huge Hedlund Day celebration. The government won’t let us touch them.”

“Here?” The word choked in Clark’s throat. Some army men… they might not know about him. Figurehead Zachariah had no idea. Only an elite few knew all the government’s secrets.

“Run,” Amethyst shrieked a second time.

A man in a blue uniform darted past and seized her arm. She tripped, but he caught her against his chest.

Clark froze. These army men
were
after him. Why had he thought the Treasures could protect him? Wealth didn’t count for anything against the government.

He’d brought them all down on him.

The front door of the house opened and three men in uniform dashed out, their laser rifles pointed at Clark. More men darted from around the house and barns, flooding the area.

He couldn’t run. They’d shoot him before he took more than two steps. His heartbeat thudded. He’d never been this trapped.

Stupid
.

Clark pulled his two pistols free from his belt and cocked them.

Eric appeared in front of him. “Run, Clark! You don’t belong to them.”

“What is this?” Georgette screamed. Garth ran after Amethyst and grabbed the man holding her. Another army man pulled him away and pinned his hands behind his back.

A slow clap sounded from the front door. Captain Greenwood—
the
Captain Greenwood—sauntered onto the porch.

“Woo-ee, boy, you’ve certainly led us on a merry chase.” The captain hooted a laugh. “It’s been years, hasn’t it? You’ve grown out of being that gawky boy with the whore mother.”

“How dare you speak to my son that way.” Georgette pushed in front of Clark. “I don’t care about the army. You will all leave my premises immediately.”

Captain Greenwood pulled out his pistol and stroked the barrel. “Here’s what I don’t think any of you know. Little Clark Treasure here is a wanted man. The government really wants him. So, why don’t you hand him over, pretty lady, and nobody here gets hurt.”

“Captain Greenwood, what are you doing?” Zachariah pushed out of the house from behind him.

“I didn’t do nothing bad,” Clark whispered to Georgette, and winced. He’d slipped back into Tangled Wire talk.

Captain Greenwood shoved him toward the nearest man, who seized his arm. “So you all understand, Clark here stole something the army was testing. A nice little invention by some old fella. Gingham or Grisham. Something like that.” The captain narrowed his eyes, as if fishing for a comment.

“Eric Grisham?” Garth sputtered. “He’s been dead almost twenty years.”

The captain smiled, nodding. “Ah, so you do know a little. That would be him. Senator Horan paid him for those fancy machines. He invented this real nice serum. When it mixes with hertum, it reacts in your body. Makes it so you can see the dead and bring ‘em back. Won’t that be nice for an army? Endless soldiers.”

“I heard about that.” Zachariah stood frozen on the porch. “Everybody talks about that. It’s a work in progress.”

“They decided to finally try it out, and wouldn’t you know, this boy turned out to be the test subject.” Captain Greenwood waved his pistol at Clark. “Poor boy, you see the dead, don’t you? They want you to bring them back. Do you oblige, or do you behave and let fate play its role by itself?”

“If you died, I wouldn’t bring you back,” Clark snarled. No escape without the army hurting the Treasures. The run had finally ended. He’d lost his freedom for good.

“What will you do with him?” Garth demanded.

“Oh, we’ll take him back. Study him. Use him. You’re going to be one of our main soldiers.”

“I won’t fight for you,” Clark snapped.

“You will so long as we keep your family safe. You really think we wouldn’t connect mine worker Clark Treasure with bastard Clark Treasure? You are stupid, boy, just like your mother. She let herself get shot protecting you. You both should’ve known you couldn’t flee from us forever.”

A shot rang out from beside the barn. One of the army men jerked, falling to the ground. Amethyst stood over him, his government-issued pistol smoking in her hand.

“I don’t think Clark’s going to bring him back.” She glared at Captain Greenwood. “I don’t think even our president would approve of killing a girl.” She aimed the pistol at the head of the man holding her father and fired again.

methyst glared at Captain Greenwood. If she looked down, she would have to see the dead man, and know he was dead because she’d shot him. She’d had to. Clark killed when he had to. She wasn’t becoming an assassin or crazed bum who wandered the city park calling family names to pigeons

Hello, Papa. What a shiny beak you have this morning.

Amethyst aimed the pistol at Captain Greenwood. Clark would have a great remark: witty, biting, proof that he was an honorable man.

“Meanie.” The childish word exploded from her mouth and she winced. What a great sentence. Next she would ask the insane army to tea.

Captain Greenwood laughed. “Grab the girl. She’ll be tried in court. That’s what happens when you kill an officer, Miss Treasure.”

Clark promised it got easier if he didn’t think as much before he shot.
If you think about it too much, you hesitate too long.

Her hands shook. She cocked the pistol and pulled the trigger. A bullet shot through the barrel toward Captain Greenwood’s chest. With him gone, Clark would be free.

The bullet lodged in the chest of the officer beside Captain Greenwood, who paled. The officer slumped against the house, one hand to his chest where red gushed out.

“Grab her,” the captain snarled.

Her father struck the man beside him, who’d been gaping at his fallen comrade. Actions whirled past her senses as she shot again. The bullet struck one of the pillars on the porch, wood ricocheting into the yard.

“Stop.” Clark’s voice toyed with her mind. “You’ll hurt someone innocent.”

But the trick, not to think… Fire, fire, fire.

The ranch hands exploded from the barns wielding axes and hammers. Their shouts rang off the walls and across the fields. She ducked against the barn door as they darted by in a blur of colors. The makeshift weapons struck the army. More shouts, now growls of rage and howls of pain, added to the jumble. The Bromi slaves called in high pitched
yip-yip-yays
. They spun in an intricate dance of high and low kicks, punches and outstretched arms. Those in the kitchen pummeled from the front door.