Chapter 55 – Frosty Predicament, Bozeman Christmas (Samson Conrad POV) Pt. 4

Scrunching my nose up, I gaped at the screen, reading the words that sent Imogen into a crying mess. However, sliding my gaze over from the words I focused on the woman, arms crossed against her chest.

Local news reporter.

I only just think, was there no other picture of this woman, why is she smiling? When Luca gasps, taking two steps backwards, his lower back colliding with a box of cooking utensils. Loudly, they crash to the floor, echoing noisily in the concrete house.

"That – that's not – they – it," Luca stammers, breathing shallow, gasping between each word. Putting the spoon I was currently holding down, I take a step towards the table, then another until I was holding one of the untraceable phones in my hand.

Unaware of what is wrong, Fatima enters the room teary-eyed. Glancing between Luca and her, I immediately head towards Fatima, "What's wrong?" she asks even though I can tell she's in some pain.

"There was a fire or explosion at Lucas' parents' house, thirty dead so far," I whisper at her ear, though I know Luca could hear me easily.

My arm around Fatima's shoulder, I lead us closer to a devastated, in shock and frozen Luca, that's just gaping at the screen Imogen was holding. She sets it on the gray concrete polished counters, attempting to go to Luca, but he is unaffected by her touch or pleas.

"Luca, call Raf," I say pushing the burner phone towards him. "Ask him who is Robert Delaney first though," Fatima adds before resting her head on my shoulder.

He holds the glassy glazed look for long minutes, before inhaling and shaking his head mixing it up with nodding.

"If – if we can trust him," I start thinking, "it's not just about the book," I tilt my head to the side, not understanding from what Imogen had found. Taking the laptop and flipping towards me, "I don't understand how this was done so quickly," I dig a bit deeper but the articles and news coverage leaves me unsure.

Grabbing another burner phone I dial my parent's.

"Luca?" dad answers immediately. Clearly that is whom he was expecting. Frowning I take a moment to gather my thoughts, does dad know about the house fire?

In a soft tone, I respond. "Dad it's me Samson." A sharp intake of breath sounds before dad jumps to make any other sounds.

"Samson," he says with carefulness coloring his tone. "Are you – how are you?" he stumbles at first, but he ends strong.

What Taylor did, I can ignore it, leave it simmering; however the minute dad asks it's as though the emotions are ready to boil right over. Fatima curled up against me though keeps me from wanting to jump out of my own skin to avoid even the slightest turn in conversation.

"Dad did you see the news? About the fire in Bend?"

"No," he says, and maybe pulls the phone away because I hear him in lower – muffled – volume instruct my aunt Angela to look up Bend news. "What are you talking about Samson?" dad says impatiently.

"There was a fire at the Romas house, so far the body count is at thirty," I whisper the words again, knowing a bit of what Luca was living through right now.

"I doubt those are the families that stayed with Nick," I hear a voice that I cannot truly identify. "Dad who is that?"

There's a bit of static and I can hear as Luca's heartbeat speeds up. "It is Naomi, she has been-" Luca comes forward, tilting his head towards me to hear what is being said on the phone.

"The Elders, this is how they work," the voice chimes and I have to strain to hear her through the phone. "There is no way to check, but-" at this point I pull the phone away from my ear, putting it on speakerphone. And resting it between Luca and Imogen. "I will be honest, if the Elders do have the families, death would have been more pleasant than what the Elders have in store for them," Naomi finishes and I curse that I put the phone on speaker.

Luca nearly buckles to the ground, but with Imogen at his side and a hand darting out, resting splayed on the top of the counter he holds himself up.

"What – what do you mean?" Luca demands, tears building. Whatever movement they make on dad's end we hear it as static, and I can only imagine what horrors Naomi was speaking of when she did not immediately respond.

"Before," dad says with authority, as though he could jump right out of the phone and hold us up by our shirts. "Whatever information you get now, you will not go rushing back to Bend," he orders and for a beat I have to process just how serious this is.

Nearly four days ago dad was ready to beg for our location, that changed but now, Bend was... I close my eyes releasing a sigh, holding onto Fatima just a bit tighter, and thanking her silently.

Nick brought the danger. The Elders. It had to have been him. Or maybe Cynthia had contacted them without Danny knowing. Before dad locked her up – for a minute I'm sidetracked.

Where was Cynthia?

"Tell me what is going on damnit!"

Checking that to the side, I listen to Naomi.

"I do not have information that will bring you any hope or even any relief. It will do you no good to go searching for them, not on your own," she warns and I have to wonder if maybe dad hadn't written that down quickly and made Naomi repeat it. But, then again it didn't sound as though she was reading those words from a piece of paper. They sounded heartfelt, warning and heavy with wisdom.

"There are parts I never got close enough to see, but, the Elders are I cannot put it into words without saying that it's as though they want to make the perfect world to serve just them. Do what they want, when they want it, no laws or regulations."

"They want complete and total domination at any costs. They also collect gifts so if someone has a gift, they have the ability to take it away but instead of just removing a gift they've garnered their strength by killing the true host of the gift so it becomes theirs." Blinking, at first I have to think only of her words so I can understand them.

"Do they take all gifts?" Imogen asks worriedly.

There's a pause.

Waiting, I glance down at Fatima, only to find her gazing up at me, face screwed up. "They won't get you," she says, "you're mine." It's the wrong moment, but the smile that grows on my face would have been impossible to hold back. I certainly couldn't. Then again, I did not try.

While I have a grin that could split my face in two, Fatima remains completely serious. She doesn't return my smile, just honest and intense green orbs peering into me. Dipping down, quickly, I kiss her chastely, aware of our audience, but light inside.

"If they can convince you to join their ranks and they have a gift that might be similar to one they have stolen already, they will not. Obviously, they cannot steal intelligence and they seek out many that show promise or are at the top of their fields."

"They – and I do not know if this is true but if you have a gift and it shows strong promise of being passed down to a child, they will breed two powerful or gifted-"

"Breed?" Luca interrupts, saying the word tightly, his arm showing the strain of holding up his weakened body.

Silence answered many questions.

"So – so they take shifters and experiment and make babies and – and-"

"Luca!" my father says, again with that authority. "Your father and those that remained and followed him, the Elders was not the end all option. They sought the Elders out. They had the options of coming with us, hell your sister-"

"Lennon?" Luca whispered brokenly.

Dad sighed, "Luca she came with us. When your dad wanted to drag her out, she stayed with us."

"And if the Elders have their hands on anyone from Bend, well they will beat, torture, painfully pull detail after detail from them until there is nothing but an empty shell left and the Elders still won't kill them. Grant them peace."

"But Lennon, she – she's with you guys?"

More heavy answer filled silence from dad.

"Luca," I wonder if dad realizes I can hear how tired he is as he speaks. "Your sister is with us. She is traveling with Deacon's family. She is safe, however your father, his plan was to seek the Elders out and practically hand over the women in his new den. Show the Elders that he had many in his ranks..."

Actions he would take because he wanted to lead and Antone handed the Den over to dad, not Nick.

"The people that chose to follow Nick, I only feel sorry for the women and children of the men that decided that I had not been a fair leader. That your father was their savior," I hold back a snort.

I'm not sure being selfish and overall narcissistic made for good leadership.

Luca swallows, leaving the room, "I just need a moment," he chokes out as he does.

"Dad, thanks, uhm, how is everyone?" I asked in the lull.

"We are safe," I nod, only remembering he cannot see me two seconds later. "Thanks to Faith," dad adds.

Well, I'm not going to argue.

Fatima brought many changes to my life. All of our lives. I had been in a house full of people and still felt empty inside. Now, I was with three and felt more alive than I have in such a long time.

"Uhm, Faith?" dad says, reminding me he's on the line. "Yes?"

"We got the plans you've sent us, and uhm, we are heading out to North Carolina. Right now, we've ordered everything to build, and hopefully we have time to set up more than one of the home plans you've sent." I cocked my head to the side, frowning. Dad was rambling. Was my father nervous?

"Okay," Fatima murmured back.

"I – we – we've come to the conclusion that the world you believed to be real, might not be currently what the world was like, but you weren't mistaken for what the future may resemble." Now dad was admitting he had made a slip, which was rare.

"We do have homes built in North Carolina, however, none that fit the regulations I've seen in the plans. So would you mind if should there be an emergency, that my den use the house..." my eyes widened.

Was dad serious? He wanted to use her house. The one she spent her life in. The place she said she left as though she were only running out for milk. How would she feel if my family just moved into her living space? On the one hand I knew why he was asking, but on the other, the house Fatima was living in, wasn't just a hideout. Granted it was... but it was more than that to Fatima.

"Well," I wait for her reaction. "I- I'm I don't think that will work for you."

"Is this an accommodation for the group problem?" dad asks.

Fatima doesn't move, still snug against me. "To get to the house there are traps and Dmitri set it up in such a way that if he were being tailed or chased that they'd-"

"Are you sure that damage will be done?"

"You're welcome to try but I mean... someone will end up hurt. It's a time limit thing as well. When you enter the code you have thirty seconds to move past it. On top of that, it's not like you can go up there multiple times. Dmitri set it up that for each trip up you're getting one trip down. But like I said, you are welcome to try," I 'hhmmp, shaking my head. Dmitri... while this was not good for my family; he went the extra mile to protect Fatima.

"Is there an override code?" dad tries again, sounding more frustrated than before.

"Why would he create one if the point was to keep me isolated and protected?" Fatima responds dryly. In the building quietness Imogen inhales deeply, going to the suitcase and pulling out the manila envelopes, handing Fatima one after fishing through them.

Turning it to read the white sticker with the location, once she reads it, Fatima opens it up while speaking.

"There is a house in Burnsville, North Carolina – how far is that from where you're setting up?"

Hopefully it was not far.

Dad hasn't responded but Fatima moves on, "from what I see on paper – it has the same acreage as the floor plans we sent, but there is no way of knowing whether it is built like that place."

"Can we Google map it?"

Imogen jumps in. "We've – when you look at the properties nothing comes up. You just have," she stops abruptly.

Fatima gives my father the code without Imogen continuing her thought. She ends with just a subtle warning that the home might not be completely finished in terms of poisonous air precautions.

It would be tight living for some months because I imagine that children and adults put together there were at least seventy people. With any luck Dmitri had finished setting the Burnsville place up. Glancing around this home, I hoped that my father and the others had a safe place to hide out while building what was needed. 

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