Hear the Children Calling (33 page)

“That would be unfair,” Somers said. “And cruel. But if you could answer a few questions, it might help us.”

“Of course.”

“My office is—”

Kate’s grip tightened around the little hands to either side of her. “I’m not leaving my babies.”

“All right,” Somers said, understanding. He often wondered if parents felt that being near their children kept the specter of death away. But these boys weren’t going to die. He was sure of that.

“Mrs. Emerson,” he said, “when the boys were brought in, your husband told us they’d been electrocuted. That a cord connected to a live socket had fallen in the bathtub.”

“I saw it, too.”

“But the strange thing is that neither boy showed
signs of having been electrocuted,” the doctor said. “The very fact they were alive makes me wonder if there wasn’t a mistake.

“The horror of seeing your boys hurt so might have clouded your vision,” Dr. Somers added. “Is it possible the cord wasn’t even plugged in? That the whole thing was a setup?”

Kate glowered at him. She pushed her glasses up her nose with a quick, angry movement.

“Some setup,” she growled sarcastically. “It’s a pretty convincing trick, isn’t it? Doctor, my boys may be dying.”

It was so hard to fight the tears.

“No, no,” Somers said. “I don’t think so. That’s the other strange thing. Both these boys are strappingly healthy. We can’t find a thing wrong with them other than the fact that they’re comatose.”

He went to Joey’s crib and reached through the bars. Gently, he brushed back the soft blonde hair. Kate noticed for the first time that the nurses had taken the time to wash it.

“I’ve spoken to both you and your husband,” Somers said. “Neither of you seems to remember a thing. But there’s one person I haven’t been able to contact—your sitter, Mrs. Ginmoor. She was the third witness to this strange phenomenon, and she may be able to help us.”

Kate thought a moment. She’d been so busy thinking of Laura and worrying about the boys that she hadn’t even realized that Mrs. Ginmoor did not come to visit her.

“She didn’t come to see the boys?”

“Her name is not on the sign-up sheet,” Dr. Somers said. “And though I’ve tried calling her several times, she doesn’t answer. On the day you were brought in, you were mumbling something about someone hurting your boys. Could it have been Mrs. Ginmoor? Could she have tried to kill them and is hiding because of her crime?”

Kate’s green eyes widened. “Not in a million
years,” she cried. “Mrs. Ginmoor was like a grandmother to those boys.”

Dr. Somers’ question was blunt. “Then why hasn’t she come to visit them?”

Kate opened her mouth, but only a strange gulping noise came out. She could not answer the doctor’s question.

49

R
ALPH AND
B
ETH STAYED ON THE MOUNTAIN ROAD AS
long as they felt it was safe—that is, as long as Beth didn’t pick up feelings of other people in the area. She could still sense her brother’s presence, but no matter how hard she tried to contact him, he didn’t answer. It frustrated her, because she didn’t know if he was ignoring her or if he was unable to respond. She also tried to think of her mother, and she felt that she was very frightened, locked in a dark place.

She didn’t let herself think of her father. When she did, nothing was there.

They came to a turn in the road that sloped at a deep angle. On one side, the craggy mountain face worked toward the sky like a staircase. The other side, protected by railings only at its curves, dropped sharply into thick greenery.

Ralph glanced over the edge, felt the pounding begin again behind his eye, and moved quickly toward the relative safety of the other side of the road. Now that they’d turned another corner, he asked, “Are you getting closer? Do you feel anything?”

“They just keep moving farther and farther away,” Beth said. She was tired and hungry, her legs hurt
terribly, and she was scared. But she didn’t say so. Poor Ralph looked so hurt, and she had come to like him very much. She still didn’t understand what he had to do with Peter’s disappearance, but she could feel that he had loved her brother very much and was trying to do the right thing by him now.

They plodded on, silent for the next half-hour. At the base of the slope, Ralph finally let out a sigh of exhaustion. He was willing to admit what a ten-year-old wouldn’t.

“I’m beat,” he said. “We’ll never find them this way. My head is pounding and I can’t think straight. We have to get help, Beth.”

“But I don’t think we can trust anyone,” Beth said worriedly.

“Not here, of course,” Ralph said. “But I’m pretty sure we’re heading toward a highway. We’ll hitch a ride into the city. I’ll bet the police have been looking for you.”

Beth shook her head wildly, her red hair flying. “No! We can’t go to the police. They still have my mother and I’m sure they’re looking real hard for Peter. If they even suspect we went for help they might—they might . . .”

Ralph put his arms around the little girl, but she only shuddered a little bit and didn’t let fresh tears fall. Pulling away from him, she had an expression of determination on her face that reminded Ralph of Michael. He felt a chill rush over him and turned quickly.

“Let’s go,” he said. “I think I can hold on for a little while longer. How about you?”

Beth nodded.

They took a shortcut through a path that had been cut by a long-extinct river, and to their surprise found themselves on the main highway. Dozens of cars whizzed by, ignoring Ralph’s outstretched thumb. But at last a man and woman who seemed to be in their fifties pulled over. The woman gasped.

“Hiram, they’ve been in an accident.”

“What happened to you?” Hiram asked. He
reached across his wife and unlocked her door. She slid close to him and Ralph and Beth squeezed in beside them.

“We were camping,” Ralph said. Even in his battered state, he was somehow able to think quickly. “I—I fell into one of those ravines. My little girl here stayed all night with me, but in the morning I insisted we try to get help.”

“I told him to lie still,” Beth put in, picking up on the story line. “I was going to get a doctor myself.”

“Can you imagine a little girl wandering through this area alone?” Ralph asked.

“Well, you aren’t alone now,” Hiram said. “Let’s get you to the hospital.”

When they arrived, Beth was surprised to see so many policemen in the lobby. She looked around warily, and when one of them pointed to her, she jumped into the safety of Ralph’s arms.

“That’s her! That’s the kid!”

A dozen people rushed toward her.

“Are you Elizabeth Morse?”

She nodded.

One of the cops eyed Ralph suspiciously. “Who are you? What are you doing with this kid?”

It had been a long ordeal. Not just the flight from the LaMane Center, but all the previous six years. He did not put up a fight.

“It’s a long story,” he said. “You’ve got to help us, please . . .”

Suddenly, dozens of questions were being shot at him. Some were from police, some from reporters. It was so overwhelming and so sudden that Ralph’s brain could not take the pressure. He let out a soft moan, then fainted into darkness.

Beth screamed, kneeling down next to him. “You bad people! Look what you’ve done to him! He was going to help me find my brother, but now he can’t.”

“What happened to your brother?” a woman asked.

“No questions,” Lou Vermont’s voice boomed across the lobby. The crowd parted and the police chief
made his way toward the little girl. He lifted her gently by the elbows and whisked her away from the crowd.

Looking back over her shoulder, Beth saw doctors and nurses working with Ralph. She was taken to a room, where a lady doctor came in and quickly looked her over.

“She’s suffering from exposure,” the woman said. “Lots of bug bites, some bruises . . .”

“Where’ve you been all night, honey?” Lou asked.

The doctor called a nurse and asked that Beth be admitted. As Lou talked to her, the doctor continued to examine the little girl.

“Some bad men came and took my mom and me to a weird place,” Beth said. “I don’t know where my mom is. Ralph and I got out and we were trying to find Peter.”

“Peter?”

“My brother,” Beth explained. She saw the look of doubt over the police chief’s face and was put on the defensive. “My brother didn’t die. My mom and dad didn’t believe me either, even when Peter kept appearing to me.”

“Appearing to you?” Lou was growing more confused. Was the kid delirious?

But the doctor negated this possibility. “You seem fine, Beth, but we’ll keep you for observation.”

“What do you mean, he was appearing to you?” Lou pressed after the doctor had left.

Beth shook her head. She could sense Lou would never understand. “My mom and dad didn’t believe Peter was alive, at first,” she said. “But then my mom saw him, too. And my dad checked with a friend at the airport and found out Peter never got on the plane. So we all came to stay at Grandma’s. Daddy and Grandma and Grandpa went back to the airport to see if they could remember anything. I don’t know where they are now.”

Lou felt a clump of ice forming at the bottom of his stomach. God, how he hated times like this. But Beth
seemed like an intelligent child, and if he wanted her to answer his questions, he had to be honest with her.

“Beth, your grandma and grandpa are in two rooms upstairs,” he said softly.

Beth eyed him. “And where’s my daddy?”

Lou took a deep breath. “I’m afraid your daddy died last night, Beth.”

He expected her to scream, to protest. Instead, she simply stared at him blankly. Her head moved slowly up and down. “I thought so,” she said. “I kept trying to think of him, but there was only black in my head. I knew he was—I guessed he was prob—probably . . .”

And now the tears began to flow. As Lou held her in his arms and comforted her, he let the child let go of her grief. He was surprised how quickly she pulled away. Her expression which had been bland at first and then bewildered, was full of anger now.

“They killed my daddy,” she seethed. “They took Peter from us a long time ago and they have my mommy locked up somewhere.”

“Who are they?” Lou pressed. “Do you know who kidnapped you?”

“I think the guy with the scary blue eyes was named Dr. Adams,” Beth recalled. “Ralph would know. He helped me get out of that place.”

Lou felt excitement growing in himself. “Was it the LaMane Center?”

Beth nodded eagerly. “That’s what Ralph called it.”

“And who exactly is Ralph? Why was he there?”

Beth did not answer right away. It seemed that Ralph had cared very much about Peter, even though he called him Michael, but if he was at the center in the first place, was he also a bad man? But he helped her to escape, to get to the police. She couldn’t get him into trouble.

“I—I don’t really know,” she mumbled.

It was only a little lie. She didn’t really know exactly why he was there.

“Well, we’re going to head right over there,” Lou
said, straightening up. “If your mom is still there, we’ll find her. In the meantime, maybe I can arrange for you to see your grandma before you go to your own room. Would you like that?”

Beth nodded eagerly. When she was taken to Lillian’s room, the older woman burst into tears of joy. Beth was momentarily stunned by her grandmother’s appearance. She wore no makeup or jewelry, and instead of a brightly colored outfit, she wore the bland colors of a hospital gown. But Beth saw so much love in Lillian’s eyes that she ran to her and held her tightly. Together, they cried, mixed tears of relief and sorrow.

50

Peter! Peter, please wait for me. Don’t run away, we
won’t hurt you.

Michael couldn’t see the red-haired girl as he followed Tommy and Jenny. But her voice was so loud in his mind—louder than the brook he was crossing over precarious stones—that he could almost believe she was right there. But that was impossible. Whoever she was, he had always sensed she was very far away. There was no way she could be here in the mountains.

Peter, don’t ignore me. You can hear me in your mind, I know it. Please, please try to remember me. Stop, close your eyes, and picture me.

Michael stopped short, on a large flat rock in the middle of the brook, and closed his eyes. Yes, he could see her. Red hair like his own, freckles. And all around her, white.

Who are you?

He made the demand more furiously than ever before.

I’m your sister, Peter. Your sister, Beth. Do you remember me?

No. I don’t have a sister. And my name is Michael.

Your name is Peter! They messed up your brain and tried to make you forget who you really are, but you can remember if you try. I know you can.

The girl’s words brought the file in his backpack to mind. Yes, she was right. The grown-ups at LaMane had lied to all the children. But his real name? Nothing in the files indicated that. The numbers on those papers gave no word as to identities.

I don’t know who I am.

The girl moved and a grown-up came into the scene playing in Michael’s mind. He gasped, but did not open his eyes or move from the rock. His father! Lying in a bed with white sheets, a bandage over half his face.

Daddy! You—you’re in a hospital?

He can’t hear you, Peter. He doesn’t have the gift we share. I can hear because I’m your twin. We got away, Peter. Just tell me where you are and I’ll send help.

I don’t really know. I’m so tired. There’s a brook, and . . .

“Michael!”

“What are you doing? You’ll fall in.”

The sounds of Jenny’s and Tommy’s voices snapped Michael out of his reverie. He opened his eyes and realized he had taken a step forward. He was ankle-deep in the icy water.

“I saw my sister,” he cried. “In my mind. She’s with my father.”

Balancing on a fallen tree, Tommy grabbed Michael by the arm and pulled him to shore.

“You don’t have a sister,” he said.

“How do you know?” Michael demanded. “Who knows what kind of families we really have? She was with my dad, and they’re trying to find us.”