Lost Republic (10 page)

Night came with whispers. Jenny was in the front corner of the barn, leaning against the rough wall. It was made of plaster or mud, mashed into a lattice of woven sticks. Warm from the day's sunshine, it smelled, like everything else on this antique Roman farm, of cow dung.

Jenny had given up a place in the far end of the barn to some of the older women and mothers with children. There was a lot of hay scattered back there, so it was more comfortable than her spot near the door. When they saw her take a less comfortable spot for herself, some of the other girls, the American, Julie, and French Vietnamese girl, Linh, joined Jenny. Eleanor Quarrel was in the opposite corner, cradling her burned arm.

Jenny couldn't sleep. She was tired, exhausted even, as if she'd run a major race. All that climbing, rowing, and walking miles proved more demanding than she expected. That made her think she would have to vary her training in the future, to do more than running. She should take up vertical climbing, maybe weights. Her father used to run with wrist and ankle weights, but Jenny's mother would not allow her to use them. It was too easy for weights to damage a still-growing girl's joints, she said. They argued about it, but her mother won.

Running through options for future training, she slipped into half-sleep. Then she heard the whispers. They were nearby. The voices were low. Masculine. She couldn't quite make out what they were saying—

A hand clamped hard over her mouth. At the same time, she felt heavy pressure on her chest. Surprised, Jenny opened her eyes and saw an unfamiliar face up close. It was one of the soldiers. His breath smelled of olive oil and wine. Besides a hand over her mouth, he had his knee jammed hard against her so she couldn't move.

“Quietis!”
he hissed. Jenny got that.

There were two other shadowy figures behind the man. One had Linh Prudhomme in a similar grip. The third bent down and grabbed Julie. She instantly flailed about in panic. Jenny saw the man's hand rise and fall. She heard the blow, and Julie stopped fighting.

Without another word, Jenny was dragged to her feet. The man never uncovered her mouth, but seized her right arm and twisted it hard behind her back. For a second, she considered resisting, but the hand left her face and returned to her throat holding a very sharp knife. Linh was likewise held silent by a blade. The third man picked up a limp Julie by the waist. They sidled out quietly. Jenny thought she saw Eleanor stir. She wanted to shout, to yell for help and warn Eleanor in case there were more attackers about, but the iron edge at her throat dug in and she knew she wouldn't live to make anything more than a gasp.

The girls were forced outside, around the barn toward another, smaller shed. By now Jenny had recognized their abductors as three of the legionnaires who had captured them. She also knew what was going to happen. Time warp, Bermuda Triangle, or weird island of cultists didn't matter. She and the girls were about to be raped.

Eleanor did waken when Julie was struck. She saw the outlines of three soldiers standing over her companions and saw them dragged out. She froze when the man holding Julie stared at her. Eleanor understood what was happening, too. She waited a few seconds, then got up on her hands and knees. She crept to the open barn door and watched the legionnaires disappear around the corner with their captives.

Eleanor thought of screaming there and then. She decided against it. There were knives at Linh and Jenny's throats, and screaming might only get the girls killed. Besides, who in the barn could help her? Old Mrs. Ellis? The lady with two kids?

She remembered Julie's brother. He would do anything to save his sister. Eleanor dashed out of the barn, bent low. She was able to make it to the cow pen without being stopped by guards. That made sense; the men abducting the girls were the guards on watch between the barn and the pen.

“Leigh! Leigh Morrison!” she gasped. Someone sat up within the dark corral. It was the French guy.

“Help! The girls! They've been taken!”

Another head popped up. This time it was Hans Bachmann.

“Where's Leigh Morrison? His sister's in danger!” Eleanor all but cried.

Hans moved over two sleeping figures and roused Leigh. He, Hans, and France Martin ducked between the rails. Eleanor pointed to the low shed beyond the barn.

“They went that way!”

Crouching, the boys followed her. At the last minute, a fourth figure joined them—Emile Becquerel.

“Go back!” Eleanor said. “You're too young for this!”

“Too young for what?”

She couldn't say it. “You're too small, okay?”

“Why, are you starting a basketball game?” he shot back.

There was no more time to argue. Eleanor and the four guys dashed through the darkness.

Only twenty yards away, Julie was lost. She had felt someone touch her, so she kicked out, only to get floored with a blow that knocked her eyes back into her head. When the veil slowly cleared, she felt herself being carried, quite rudely. She started to protest and received another smack on the back of her head. This hurt again, but it also made her mad. She bent over the meaty arm around her waist and sank her teeth into it. Her captor hissed loudly and let her fall to the ground. The breath went out of Julie. She lay there, dazed.

“Miserabilis creatura!”

Iron scraped as the soldier drew a dagger from its scabbard. Driven along behind Julie and her abductor, Linh saw the man drop her and take out his knife. He stood over her, ready to plunge the blade into Julie's back.

Linh screamed, blade at her throat or no. Farther back, Leigh and the others heard the cry and broke into a full run. The light was poor. There was no starlight or moon, and no artificial light anywhere, but it was clear enough for Leigh to tackle the nearest soldier from behind. He made a perfect illegal clip and cut the man's legs out from under him. This happened to be Jenny's captor. He went down. She sprang free, and with Hans running up beside her, they fell on the second man, struggling with Linh Prudhomme.

The ruckus distracted the first soldier from killing Julie. He turned, knife in hand, to face France and Eleanor. He cut sideways at France, who barely threw himself out of the way in time. Eleanor skidded to a stop. She cast about for a weapon and found nothing but a wooden hayfork leaning against the shed. Eleanor grabbed this and jabbed at the soldier standing over Julie. He laughed shortly and snatched the tool from her grasp.

Emile quickly regretted joining the rescue. Leigh was down, wrestling a man cursing in Latin. Jenny pulled Linh free of her abductor while Hans desperately kept him busy. Eleanor and France looked certain to die, so Emile flattened himself against the shed, trying to go unseen. His foot nudged something heavy. He picked it up. It was half a brick.

Leigh's opponent was tough. He wasn't as big as Leigh, but wiry and very strong. The soldier knew how to fight, while Leigh only had football and some high school wrestling experience to draw on. The soldier got a hand on Leigh's throat and tightened his grip. Blood bellowed in the American's ears until he drove a fist twice into the man's gut as hard as he could punch.

Jenny flung the slender Linh away and leaped at the man who had held her. Hans had him on one side, now Jenny grappled on the other. The legionnaire's eyes were wide with surprise. She stamped on his foot. Powered by Olympic-hopeful legs, she broke the man's ankle. Howling, he went down.

Julie was up on her hands and knees. So far, the night had been a series of nasty blows and confusion. When she saw France and Eleanor dancing out of reach of the soldier's blade, she yelled a few choice words of English and kicked him in the rump. He promptly backhanded Julie in the nose. She reeled away.

Feinting with his knife, the legionnaire wedged a leg between France's ankles and tripped him. Down he went. Next thing he knew, a burning hot sensation flooded his back. He'd been stabbed. France tried to rise, but all strength fled his limbs.

Disappointed to see the boy still moving, the soldier raised his knife again. At that moment, he was hit in the face by half a brick. Eleanor turned to see Emile recovering from his first and only throw.

Many footfalls thudded in the lane between the barn and shed. The rest of the guards were coming, with swords drawn. Linh saw their blades gleam in the dark and knew their lives were over.

“Sto qua vos es! Operor non permoveo!”

Only Hans knew this meant “Stand where you are! Don't move!” but the intent of the command was clear. The soldiers quickly filled the lane, disarming and separating everyone.

Then there was light.

Overhead, there was a tremendous flash, as if a gigantic camera had gone off a hundred yards up in the sky. Everyone froze—everyone. Lying in the muck, bleeding, France saw every thing highlighted in bright glare and sharp shadows. The terrible pain in his back lessened as a gentle wave of heat flowed through him.

The Republic soldiers were as stiff as statues, swords upraised, mouths open in midshout. Leigh was poised on top of his opponent, arms tangled and teeth bared. Hans was staring at the centurion commanding the guards, probably conjugating Latin verbs even while paralyzed. Linh, her clothing torn, was gazing down at the man they'd subdued. Lurking under the eaves of the shed, Emile looked younger and smaller than ever.

Julie was in the strangest posture. She was poised on one foot, impossibly balanced in the act of falling. Her nose was bleeding, but she looked ferociously angry.

Eleanor had dropped to her knees, trying to ward off any more attacks on France.

The light vanished. It was there, and then it was not.

France's pain was gone. He put a hand to the spot over his right kidney where the legionnaire had stabbed him. His shirt was cut, but the wound was gone. There wasn't even any blood.

Julie spun around, caught herself, and stopped. She put a hand to her lips. No blood.

The centurion quickly directed his troops to round them up, but he was quite calm about it. The eight teens were escorted back to their places while the three would-be rapists were given a fierce tongue-lashing by the centurion. Hans caught the word
verbera
, “a beating,” and knew the offenders were going to get more than chewed out.

Shuffling back to the corral surrounded by surprisingly even-tempered guards, Leigh said, “What just happened?”

Hans said, “I don't know.”

“What was that light?”

France felt his back again and didn't answer. Whatever it was, he was grateful for it.

Back in the barn, Jenny sat down heavily in her corner. Given all that had happened, she wanted to shout, to run, to kick something or someone as hard as she could. Instead, she felt an incredible calm settle over her. In moments she was asleep. Far back in her mind, her brain cried out in outrage, but her body went slack when her eyelids closed.

Julie took a little longer to submit, but she too seemed unnaturally calm after the violence they'd barely escaped. She remembered it all: the blows, the struggle, the smell of the soldier who gripped her so roughly. She remembered but for some reason didn't care. Julie saw Jenny slump into slumber and marveled at her coolness. Then she sank back into silence and darkness, wrapped in unnatural peace.

Linh could not stop trembling. As for Eleanor, Linh didn't see her. She was with them when the guards herded them into the barn. Where was she now?

Linh sat in the dark, shaking. She wondered if the others had perceived what she had. As they were stricken by the brilliant light in the sky, Linh heard voices along with the glare—voices inside the light. She couldn't tell how many or who they were, but she heard a distinct undertone of muttering. They terrified her. Who had she heard? God? Angels? Beings from outer space? She did not believe in any of these things, but she heard what she heard. Perhaps the most frightening thing of all was the fact no one else seemed to have heard anything.

The night was close around her. Linh detected no more voices, and shortly before sunrise, her fear waned enough to let her sleep.

One by one the boys subsided. Hans felt like he did the time he was given anesthetic gas at the dentist. His arms and legs felt set in concrete while his mind raced around inside his skull, frantic to get out. Only when the dentist increased the flow of oxygen did Hans pass out. Now as he thought about this experience, the same thing happened. His terror at being paralyzed faded. The last thing he saw was Leigh Morrison slumped against a corral post. He looked asleep, but there were tears trickling down his face.

Leigh told himself he had failed. That SOB grabbed Julie, and he wasn't able to stop him. If that light hadn't gone off, he, Hans, and France would be dead now, and worse would have happened to Julie and the girls. The flash saved everybody. Good thing, whatever it was . . . His burning eyes closed.

Snores and raspy breathing around France made him feel very alone. He wanted to talk to somebody about what happened, but everyone was asleep. He called out in a loud whisper to Hans, who didn't respond. The American guy looked comatose. Where was the Belgian chocolate hater? France turned stiffly—his neck felt like it was in a vise—but he didn't see Emile anywhere. Did the guards take him away?

He lay there a long time, one cheek in the dirt. Unable to move, all France could see was a bit of the pen, the barn where the women and children were kept, and some of the path up to the farmhouse. After a time, he heard faint movement nearby. Slowly, a pair of tiny white feet appeared in his narrow view. At first he thought one of the farm children was out, prowling around, but the feet (and legs above them) were remarkably pale, whiter than any flesh ought to be. They crossed in front of France, close enough for him to hear the tiny footfalls. He struggled to lift his head but only managed to grunt a little from the futile effort. Nevertheless, his visitor seemed startled by the sound and fled.