“Peter, Bonnie?” Peter jumped off the dais to confront Hud and Ginger Mae.
“Oh, guys . . . I’m sorry.” He wiped quickly at his damp cheeks and straightened his shirt. He held out his hand to Hud.
“Honey . . . look who’s here. Congratulations, you two. Congratulations on your baby.”
Bonnie slipped off the dais, her cheeks creased and red. She tried to smile and failed.
Ginger Mae handed the tiny bundle to Hud as she softly kissed his forehead. Hud leaned in to hug the three of them together. Straightening up he walked over to Peter. “No . . . your baby, Peter.”
Bonnie gasped. Salina began to wail, stepping woodenly toward Ginger Mae, arms outstretched to wrap her in a shaking embrace.
Peter stood dumbfounded as Hud placed the infant in his arms. His knees knocked as he felt the lightness of the bundle. Bonnie walked as if in a trance, her mouth wide open in astonishment. Peter watched the rise of hope and disbelief war across her face.
Hud reached out to take his wife’s hand. Squeezing tightly, they cleaved together for strength as they watched their best friends, new grandparents and all, welcome their new son.
*
The excitement over the babies settled down as the lucky survivors put their infants to bed for the first time.
The couples were all surprised to discover a miniature stone dais at the foot of their own beds. The walls curved up for safety, creating a comfortable nest for the baby, well within sight of the new, proud parents.
In one chamber reserved for married couples, exhausted sobbing could be heard. Ginger Mae’s red and blotchy face rested on Hudson’s strong arm as they lay on their soft dais.
She hiccupped as she made him a tearful vow. “I’m sorry, Hud. I know we did the right thing. It’s just that it still hurts. I’ll be fine in the morning. Promise . . .”
“I know you will, babe. There’s no one stronger than you. We’ll be fine,” he lied.
Her sobs tapered off as his gentle rocking and soft, heartbroken kisses lulled her to sleep.
*
The corridors of the Hive lay silent as the wondrous tendrils of the night began their journey across stone floors and from under fertile soil to locate the survivors and animals that now depended on them to keep them healthy and young.
Even the still-diminutive Tobi, matriarch of the now significant herd, slept on her feet, safe and sound in the growing field with her beloved pigs and various dozens of dogs; chuffing and snorts filling the night air with comfortable unconscious creature noises.
The membrane-lined walls and ceilings had dimmed their human-enzyme-killing light hours ago. Temperate air flushed through the silent hallways, sweeping away the odors of the humans and their beloved animals. Peace settled deeply into the subconscious of all that lived and breathed.
From far away, the foreign sound of groaning rock fell on deaf ears; the sound preceded by pressure that had no one to feel it. No one except the Kreyven and the tiny package it sheltered.
Breaking through a far cavern wall, the gelatinous creature travelled the Hive hallways, lighting up the membrane walls as if greeting a well-known friend as it passed by.
The Kreyven reached the sleeping chambers, pausing to assess each opening, rejecting them all until it found the one it was looking for. It hovered at the open doorway, swelling and weaving, its mass undulating and flashing gold and emerald light. The smell of deep earth permeated the air as it hovered, hesitant. Suddenly, its flashing light stopped and the beast floated into the room.
It stopped at the foot of the dais where a couple slumbered, wrapped in each other’s arms. A thick portion of the Kreyven’s body separated and dropped to the floor. From the bowels of the beast, a stone object made its way to the head of the monster’s extension until it was vomited to the floor to stand free and clear. The separated portion of the Kreyven returned to be reabsorbed into the main body.
The massive creature hovered over the deposited object as if to inspect it. Slowly the bulk lowered, separating two nubs of itself which appeared to shelter the tiny package it held protectively to its upper body near its head. The arms of the Kreyven dipped into the stone object to deposit its burden, then retracted as it continued to hover, silently . . . expectantly.
It suddenly moved to the side as Echo appeared, her wings beating quickly, slowing as she lowered herself to the floor. She looked into the miniature stone dais delivered by the Kreyven, her aura searching the mind of the beast commanded by Womb.
“There is damage . . . unfortunate. But that can be fixed.” Echo turned to the Kreyven, golden eyes flashing.
“You have done well. Now all will be happy.” Glancing once more at the sleeping couple, Echo and the Kreyven vanished as if nothing had happened. The only sign left behind was the pervasive musky odor of rich dirt and the stone dais with its fragile burden.
*
The next morning, Hud woke as if fighting the lingering effects of a painful hangover. Absently sniffing the air, he rolled over to Ginger Mae. “Hey pretty lady. Time to rise and shine.”
“Eum.” She waved him off without opening her eyes; not even a trace of a smile for his efforts.
“Come on, babe. If we don’t show for breakfast, Peter and Bonnie will feel bad. You did a great thing. We don’t want to dampen their joy. I’m sure they realize what the cost was for you. There’s no point in making it any worse.” He pulled her over to his big body. “I’m here for you, babe. We can bear this together.”
Ginger Mae opened her eyes, flat and unresponsive. “I’m sorry, Hud. I know this affects you too.” She put a hand to her mouth as a tiresome yawn got the best of her. “We might as well get up. I still need to start the count. That should cheer me up.”
From the foot of the dais came a sound, freezing them both. Hud rose up to inspect the room for the source. He looked back at Ginger Mae, dumbstruck.
“What is it, Hud? What’s wrong?” She swung her legs to the floor, not taking her eyes off her speechless husband. Rounding the foot of the dais, she was confronted by the Kreyven’s mysterious delivery.
“What the heck?”
“Oh, my.” Frozen, they stood staring at the tiny naked baby inside the stone dais. Its squinty eyes barely opened, its face so wrinkled and red, it was unaware it was even being watched. The infant made a sudden weak snort, its right hand twitching.
“Oh, the poor thing.” Ginger Mae looked for reassurance from her husband as the infant’s hand evinced palsied twitching of the claw that was its hand. The two last fingers were fused to the bone and curved in, like that of a dead bird. A purple splash of color around the infant’s right thumb looked like the shape of a large half-moon.
The astonished couple glanced at each other, confusion and pity mixing to further complicate the matter. A squeal brought their attention back to the infant.
“She looks like a newborn. Like she was just delivered, Hud. Where could she have come from?” She skirted over to Hud to hold onto his arm as they examined the baby from above.
“I think I should pick her up. What do you think?”
“I don’t see why not, babe.”
Ginger Mae reached in to lift the baby as her eyes tried to open and focus. She gurgled as the pressure from Ginger Mae’s arms delivered reassurance. “Do you think she came from Netty and Wil?”
“I don’t know where else she could have come from.”
“But why is she naked? Netty wouldn’t leave her like that. And last night, no one said a word about another baby. Father Garcia said they only rescued three.”
Hud appeared reflective. “And wouldn’t the tendrils have healed her . . . her . . . hand by now? What about the redness of her skin? Wouldn’t it have also been resolved by now? No one here was pregnant, so we can’t have a newborn here.”
Ginger Mae’s hand shot to her mouth. “Oh, no . . . Kenya.”
Hud slapped his thigh. “Of course! It must be Kenya’s baby.” He looked at Ginger Mae, his face screwe
d up in confusion. “But why is she here in our room? Where’s Kenya?”
Ginger Mae’s face drained of blood. “Hud, we better go find Netty.”
They hurriedly dressed, wrapped the baby in a soft cloth and hurried to the kitchen where they found everyone already assembled.
Ginger Mae and Hud rushed up to Netty at the sink, whirling her around so fast her wings banged against the counter. Hud searched the room with his eyes, desperate to catch sight of the obstreperous Kenya.
Netty eyed the bundle in her hands. “But I thought Bonnie said—”
They couldn’t help themselves as they all turned to Bonnie at the table.
Scooping up her baby, Bonnie hurried over to the sink, puzzlement mounting as she recognized the bundle in Ginger Mae’s arms as being another baby. “Hi guys. What’s up? Whose baby is that?”
Netty stroked the soft tender skin of the newborn, her tone of voice pensive and thoughtful. “Yes . . . where did this baby come from?” Netty hooked her finger around the baby’s desiccated claw that should have been a hand. “Hmm, where would this baby have come from?”
Ginger Mae held the baby tight to her breast, rocking slowly. “Does anyone know where Kenya is? Could she have delivered her baby?”
Netty sighed loudly. “Highly unlikely, but it wouldn’t surprise me since I seem to be out of the loop these days.” The knot of survivors turned as they felt the presence of Echo, who fluttered high in the air.
Landing on the kitchen counter, Echo stared at Ginger Mae then the baby.
“Did you want something, Echo?” asked Netty.
Ginger Mae shrugged her shoulders. “Echo just does this sometimes. You know that, Netty,” she said dismissively.
From across the room came a shout. “Don’t you be jiving me so early in the morning, chickey. If I say I can help, then I mean it. This ole belly a mine don’t stop me from doin’ what I want ta do . . . ya got it?”
The cluster around the baby showed signs of anxiety as they recognized Kenya’s voice. One possibility eliminated, the baby’s parentage was still clearly a mystery. Ginger Mae spoke up. “Can I leave the baby with Father Garcia and Maddy while I work today?” Arrangements had been made for the new twosome to become the official baby minders while the survivors’ schedules continued uninterrupted. The only change in plans was the thought that Netty’s comfortable kitchen, center of all that was survivor harmony, should finally undergo a remodel with the addition of a nursery annex. A room that would open into the kitchen, but provide the babies the privacy they needed to be . . . well . . . babies. Squalling, yet close by for the mom and dads at every meal.
Rising from his comfortable chair at the end of the table with Johno and Shirley, Father Garcia left Maddy in their care and approached the new baby. “Well . . . what do we have here?” He traced the flanges of the deformed hand, muttering under his breath, then swept the baby from Ginger Mae’s arms. Hud stepped up to stop him, pulling back just as quickly.
“Don’t you worry none about this young one. She’ll be in good hands until we solve the mystery. And if we can’t?” His eyes twinkled his goodwill toward Ginger Mae and Hud. “Then I know a fine couple that just might make a willing momma and papa. See you at lunch. Come, my dear.”
They both relaxed as Father Garcia beckoned over to Maddy and left the room with Bonnie’s baby in Maddy’s arms and the mystery babe with Father Garcia.
*
Two weeks passed as the new moms and dads in the Hive adjusted to the delights and responsibilities that come with infants. Hud and Ginger Mae assumed the roles of parents to the mystery baby, but refused to name her. Until the rightful parentage could be assessed, they both felt safer holding back a portion of the emotion that would enable them to fully accept the baby as theirs. All Ginger Mae could think of was the pain of giving up their rightful baby to Peter and Bonnie. It would be months before the ache went away. She had no wish to revive more baby pain, even as she knew in her heart they had done the right thing for Peter and Bonnie.
Hilarity was the tone as the new moms claimed the fireplace after dinner with their infants tucked passively in their arms.
“We let Kane name our new baby girl.” Karen rocked smugly, her long legs stretched out before her. Confidence oozed from every pore as she knew her life was secure; a hard-fought patient battle for the man of her choice and a brand-new baby to cement them as a family.
“What did Kane name her?” asked Bonnie.
“Aurora. He said that was the name of Sleeping Beauty in a story his mother read to him as a child. He thought it was the most beautiful name for a girl.” Her face saddened. “It’s about all he remembers of his mother except the anger she was so filled with. That’s not what I want for my baby. She’s going to be loved by both parents at the same time. Always.”
“We named our little boy, Taj. Billy says it reminds him of Caesar. He’s never seen such a magnificent animal in his life. I didn’t even know he noticed Caesar. Well . . . how can you miss him? But you know what I mean.” Gloria laughingly rocked in her chair. “And our little Taj will grow up to be a big man . . . just like his dad . . . and just like Caesar.”
“We named our little boy, Peter. After his dad.” Bonnie looked up, her beatific expression telling them she was besotted with both her husband and her new baby. Dreamily, she turned to Ginger Mae. “I’m so happy your baby looks 100 percent healthy again, Ging. It didn’t take long for the tendrils to do their job, did it?”
“No, it’s amazing all right. Her tiny hand is straight and normal now with five fingers. That’s a relief. Her birthmark is still there, though. That’s fine. But it still doesn’t answer the question of where the baby came from. Do you think anyone might have survived above ground?”
She catalogued the expressions of the other women. Karen’s standing out the most as she spoke. “I think we’d know by now, don’t you? Netty and Wil would have told us. I think you need to put that idea right out of your head, Ginger Mae. We have everything we need right here now. There’s nothing but poisons above. We all know that. Stop rocking the boat and enjoy what you have.”
Ginger Mae kept her mouth closed and continued rocking the baby, her eyes resting on Karen. Yeah, I can see you wouldn’t want the boat rocked. Maybe all is not as well in the Cobby family as we all assumed. Aloud she remarked, half to herself, but clearly heard by all. “I just can’t help but think of the pain the mother must be going through with her newborn missing. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”
Chapter 7
Suzy Calloway knew he was up to no good; Lafe hadn’t turned up for lunch. He never missed a chance to gorge on the juicy fruits and confections the communal kitchen produced all day long. As a result, his physique was round and doughy, just like the rest of the men. Ever since he had been seven years old, and Doc had taken an odd shine to him, the lame son of her mentor, who she had raised with love as her own son, had turned into a disrespectful brat.
But now that he was twenty years old, she had noticed a developing manipulative sneaky side that he took great pains to hide. She again wondered why Doc let him pal around with him and the other men of the council. It wasn’t like he was appealing with his slash of lips so distastefully distorted and puckered, his turned foot creating a disabling gait that slowed him down. His long, choppy, dark hair hung thickly in his face, concealing the clever glint in his shifty eyes that told her Lafe worked overtime devising ways to outwit and command the group of young thugs he ruled when Doc turned his back.
With a deep grunt, Suzy shifted on her chair as she considered going to hunt for him. The fact that she was almost nine months pregnant didn’t daunt her one bit. But she had an appointment with Liselle.
“Suzy . . . you in there?”
“Come on in, Liselle.” Suzy’s second let herself in to the private room that had been added on to the hovel almost fifteen years ago. It had taken almost five years before the women (with Suzy’s prompting at age eighteen) had organized themselv
es enough to begin to insidiously and cautiously influence their men; the formerly hard-bitten brutal monsters who had grown soft and lazy under the influence of their insatiable gluttony for the fruits and vegetables found mysteriously growing in a huge cavern deep in the mines.
As the previously skeletal men packed on the pounds, the scouts found their duties decreased as the perpetual hunt for food and other reusables outside in the nasty poisonous atmosphere no longer seemed as urgent as it had once been.
The men found they had more time on their hands. It wasn’t that hard to convince them to clean up their living space and enlarge the hovels. Now all the women had room to sleep inside. No more Outside women.
Of course, that presented another problem for the men. Women had become more inaccessible—which only served to create a rise in furtive assaults. The women, under the guidance of Suzy and her own inner circle, had developed ways to protect themselves. Honed metal spikes became their weapon of choice, as they were easy to conceal among the layers of salvaged clothes they were still forced to wear in the chilly tunnels.
It became Suzy’s law. Never, ever travel into another sleeping cavern or tunnel unless accompanied by your man or two of your sister wives.
Suzy peered up at her second. “How’s he doing?”
“Not good. We don’t think he’ll last through the night. Kimmey’s prepared.” The two women broke out with huge grins.
“We’re just lucky Avery only has one woman. She’ll be easy to spirit away to Surrel’s house. As long as Kimmey prepped him right, Surrel will just think he’s manly enough to attract women. And at his age, there’s not much harm going to come to her. Kimmey said he just likes to touch for a few minutes, then he’s snoring away. The women make such a fuss over his prowess that he thinks he’s still sexually active. He’s so old now, he can’t remember what he had for breakfast.” The women laughed.
Liselle sobered. “If the men catch on to how we’re shifting the women after the death of their man, we’re going to have some trouble.”