Recruits (Keeper of the Water Book 2) (26 page)

“No, I don’t do orders,” I say.

Amelia shifts the subject back to Jack and asks why I’m so curious about him. I proceed to tell her about my father’s death and Cassie’s subsequent kidnapping, about the way Jack was the one who rescued her after Amelia dropped us off in the biplane. Now that I know Jack’s past, his sudden appearance is very curious, especially since he hid his true identity from us.

“I
knew
there was something familiar about him,” I say, realizing why he reminded me so much of my father. “I can understand why Cassie or I didn’t recognize who he was but Celeste didn’t even know him. She was wary of him but she’s wary of
everyone
. Maybe her paranoia doesn’t seem so crazy anymore.”

“The woman you call Celeste wouldn’t have known Jack,” Amelia says. “Remember, she was Keeper when the explorers first arrived and they never got close enough to our camp for her to lay eyes on them.”

“But she knew my father’s real identity while I was growing up,” I counter.

Amelia nods. “She knew
of
the two explorers. And Percy told us that he was going to tell the Keeper who he really was when he found the four of you.” I look at her questioningly. “He didn’t tell you that we sent him?”

I shake my head so Amelia continues with the story. My recruits were so concerned for my well-being upon my return to youth that they finally approached Percy Fawcett to make sure of his pledge. Celeste had volunteered to protect Cassie but my closest Amazon allies were concerned about putting me in the care of Katina, a frightened, regular human. Percy was well over a hundred years old at that time but had remained alive and strong from living downriver of our special water.

“Percy never expected to see us again when we strolled into his camp,” Amelia says. “He’d been away from civilization for decades – had no idea about some of the newest technologies
we’d
learned about from my recruit – but he was more than happy to accept our offer, especially when he found out it was to help you. We gave Percy enough water to become a young man again, as well as a small supply of extra water in case of emergency.”

“You willingly gave water to a
man
?” I ask.

I
know
my father was a kind, trustworthy man but even
I’m
shocked that Amelia and the others broke one of our most sacred rules.

“Desperate times called for drastic actions,” Amelia says with a frown. “But giving water to a man was
not
a very popular decision, especially with the Queen Clan, who was without their leader at that point. There remains a lot of tension among the Amazons, even as of a few years ago when I left the jungle to be another set of eyes watching your back.”

Again I stare off into the Pocono forest, my thoughts with the Amazons but not exactly about my previous life. Despite all of the dreams and memories I’ve had about the tribe of warrior women, it still amazes me that they’re out there somewhere. Standing here in the middle of these isolated woods makes me think of my other three recruits – and even Jane, my de facto mentor – and how they’re still out in the middle of their own isolated section of the globe. Hopefully I haven’t caused too many problems for them, too much dissension among the ranks of the most powerful women in the world.

Celeste is obviously not the Keeper anymore and I can’t help but wonder if the tribe’s problems began when she left her important job. I can’t ever remember there being such contention when Cleopatra was our leader; whoever replaced her must be doing a terrible job at maintaining unity within the Amazons. Something Amelia mentioned suddenly clicks in my mind. Hope swells within my chest though my mind continues to tell me I’m foolish for having such thoughts.

“If you gave my father extra water, maybe he
did
use it to save himself.”

Amelia frowns, thus squashing that hope. “That could have been the case if Jack wasn’t young again.”

Amelia tells me that Percy was alone when they approached with the water. My recruits assumed Jack had finally left his father alone in the jungle, but that apparently wasn’t the case if Jack turned up young again. This explanation dashes hope for my father’s life but at least makes me feel better about Jack’s intentions. I’d started to have serious questions about why he was helping us, why he never told me or Celeste about his real identity. But I remind myself that Daddy didn’t tell me the truth about himself either and he always had my best interests.

“Jack must’ve been watching over me and Cassie when he saw John’s troops attack; that’s when he stepped in to help,” I conclude. “I’m sure he wanted to continue the work that his father – that
our
father – started by protecting us. It’s good knowing that someone who owes his life to the Amazons is watching over Cassie and Celeste as we speak. Lucky that his big fight wasn’t a few days earlier or he may not have been around when all the trouble started.”

“I hope you’re right,” Amelia says. “But I wouldn’t put
too
much faith in his motives just yet. After all, he’s still a man and not to be totally trusted. Remember, he didn’t even want to stay with his father after you and Harriet saved him.”

I know she’s right – the tingling in the back of my brain belies my confidence. The last image I have of Jack is the way he glared at me and Harriet, though I try to convince myself that he was merely dealing with the trauma of nearly being killed. At least that was my last image of him from the past. The present-day Jack has done so much in saving Cassie and helping us escape that it’s foolish of me to focus on a single glance he gave me a century earlier. He still may have acted a bit strangely at times but if he really wanted harm to come to us, he wouldn’t have interceded to help us.

Right?

“Jack took after my father when it came to his adventurous spirit,” I say, almost as much to convince Amelia as to convince myself. “He
must
have taken after Percy for his sense of chivalry, too.”

“I hope you’re right, Mentor,” Amelia says. I wish my recruit sounded more confident.

I
better
be right. I’m too exhausted to leave here right now and neither my mother nor John is in any condition to wake up and travel cross-country at this time of the night. I’ve already made the long trip back and forth and can feel my body on the verge of shutting down unless I get some rest. Sleep would be ideal – especially since I know I can trust Amelia to look out for any sign of danger – but I feel the need to prove something to my recruit, to show her that I’m still strong and worthy of her respect.

The two of us stay up for the rest of the night, listening to the sound of distant sirens and low-flying planes skimming the skies above us, undoubtedly looking for any sign of the thieves who landed the military jet nearby.

My eyes snap open to the sound of whispers. Instinctively I raise the bow that’s laid across my lap and reach back for my quiver of arrows. But my hand smashes into something hard behind me. Besides, I’m not exactly in the greatest position to do any shooting. I’m sitting on the ground, leaned against a wall. For the briefest of moments, I don’t remember where – or
when
– I am. It doesn’t help my tired confusion to see Amelia – my recruit – talking to Katina – my mother.

“How long have I been asleep?” I ask.

The sun slowly rising above the surrounding trees gives me an answer sooner than either woman. I remember sitting down to rest when it was still dark but I
don’t
remember closing my eyes. I must’ve been more exhausted than I thought since I didn’t even dream – about this life
or
the past.

“A few hours, Mentor,” Amelia says.

“Mentor?” another voice asks.

The deep voice sends a wave of breathless excitement crashing through my chest, a feeling I forgot I’d been experiencing quite often during the last few months. Ever since my memories of the past returned, I feel like I’ve grown up overnight. I might be more than a hundred years old – not to mention one of the most well-known names in American history – but it still feels nice to know that I can experience such nervous excitement. At least a small part of me is hanging onto my eighteen-year-old self.

“You don’t need to concern yourself with what I call her,” Amelia snaps at the person emerging from the motel room.

I almost forgot that John was still alive but here he is, his long hair disheveled from sleep, his black clothes rumpled, his perfect mouth stretched in a yawn.

Stop thinking this way,
I remind myself.
He still has a lot of questions to answer before you can trust him again.
And
we have a long day of traveling to get back to Cassie and Celeste and Jack.

After getting over the initial shock of seeing John alive last night, my brain started to convince my heart to be wary of him. But now my heart is starting to get the better of me again. I want to jump up and throw myself into his arms, especially when he looks down at me and smiles. Just when I thought my roller coaster ride of emotions for him had finally come to an end…

“Jack was taking Cassie and Celeste to Florida. What’s our best way of getting there?” I ask.

“Might be a tight squeeze in the jeep. And I doubt the police forgot about the high-speed chase from the other day. They’re still be on the lookout for our logo,” my mother says, pointing to the side of the jeep.

“I could look into
borrowing
another plane,” Amelia suggests.

I’m not sure what worries me more: Amelia getting caught trying to steal another plane or Amelia
succeeding
in stealing another plane, thus forcing me to fly again. Either way, I shake my head.

“What about borrowing another car?”

“Between the car chase and landing the jet nearby, this area must be crawling with police,” I say. “I’m thinking we should try to avoid any sort of thievery.”

“I’ve got an idea,” John says.

Leaving the motel and the ‘Adventure Tour’ jeep behind, the four of us head off into the woods. We set a quick pace but my mother – the only one
not
to ever drink the special water – quickly falls behind. John offers to carry her on his back but she’s obviously hesitant to take him up on his offer. Amelia is also bigger than me but Mom only agrees to be carried if I’m the one she can latch onto. She climbs on my back and wraps her arms around my neck like a small child. I’m sure we look ridiculous but I’d wear a clown suit if it sped up the process. Besides, my mom doesn’t weigh much and I feel refreshed from my long nap.

John leads the way, racing through the woods. I’ve never seen him move so fast. John doesn’t run as fast as I normally do but I wonder if he’s purposely going slower so I can keep up. In the matter of minutes, we put miles between ourselves and the motel. We reach one of the main highways and run parallel to it, heading deeper into the Poconos. Although John hasn’t told us the ultimate destination, it doesn’t take me long to recognize where we’re going. He begins to slow once we turn into a familiar neighborhood.

John’s street is just as I remember – it
should
be considering it’s only been a few days since I was last here. Mom climbs off my back and we proceed cautiously, keeping a close watch for the first sign of danger. Both of his troops are dead and gone but that doesn’t mean all is clear. Considering the fire and subsequent car chase involving the ‘Pocono Adventure Tours,’ it shouldn’t take much police work to link Cassie or I with John Leon.

His street contains a mixture of smaller weekend cabins along with much bigger mansions. John and his ‘uncles’ lived in one of the latter. There are no police cars parked along the road but when we spot his house, we see yellow police tape criss-crossed over the front door.

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” I say, looking around for any sign of trouble.

“Don’t worry, we won’t be long,” John assures me. “If there’s one good thing about you guys landing the jet at the high school, other investigations must be getting pushed aside for the time being.”

He seems to be right. The street is very quiet at this early morning hour and we rush up the driveway. John quickly types in the security code and the garage door opens. A quick glance inside makes his escape plans pretty obvious.

“Obsessed much?” I ask with a smile.

John and Amelia also smile upon seeing what’s parked inside but my mother’s face drops.

“Do you know how many years I had to walk or ride horses to get around?” he asks. “I deserved some options this time around.”

I’ve seen John ride a few different motorcycles before but I never knew he had
this
many. There has to be a dozen of them parked in the huge garage, different styles, models and colors. He wasn’t kidding when he said he liked variety – nor was he kidding about the amount of money he and his uncles had amassed over their hundreds of years on this earth.

“They might not travel in the air but we sure can fly on one of these,” Amelia says with a wide grin. She carefully inspects each bike, running her hands over their smooth contours. It’s not surprising that an adrenaline-junkie like her would be so excited to ride one – or that she would eventually pick out the one that looks the fastest.

“I don’t know how to ride one of those,” my mother says, her voice quivering at the thought.

“Me neither,” I add.

Amelia has laid claim to the bike she wants so John stops next to his own choice, a sleek black model that looks more like a rocket than a street vehicle. I’m suddenly having second thoughts about whether Amelia
borrowing
a plane might be the better idea.

John hands out helmets, ending with my mother.

“You can ride with me if you want,” he tells her.

Mom snatches the helmet from his hand and rushes over to the motorcycle that Amelia chose, quickly climbing on the back of it. My recruit has her trusty bow slung across her back but Mom pushes it to the side just enough to find her niche. That obviously leaves me with only one person to ride with; John wears a satisfied grin as he jumps onto the black rocket and pats the small seat behind him. I don the helmet and sit on the back, feeling the heat radiating off his body. Or maybe that’s my own warmth, as my body burns at the thought of being so close to him. I place my hands lightly on his hips.

“You’ll want to hold on much tighter than that,” he says, turning his head just enough for me to see his smile. He takes my hands and pulls them around his waist so I’m hugging him tightly. My cheeks flush and I’m glad he gave me a helmet with a dark visor that covers my face.

“Just don’t go too fast,” I tell him.

“Of course not,” he answers. “But I don’t think it’s
me
you’ll need to worry about the most.”

Amelia revs her engine, the back tire fishtailing a few feet across the garage floor, shrouding us in smoke before she takes off down the driveway and onto the street. The motorcycle’s high-pitched whine echoes throughout the early morning air and within seconds, my recruit and mother disappear around the bend. I wonder if my mom regrets her choice of rider. A part of me wants to smile at the thought of what her expression must look like but I know I’m in just as much trouble.

“We can’t let them get
too
far from us,” John calls out over the whine of his own bike.

We shoot forward so quickly that I wonder how we’re able to stay on the seat. I squeeze John so tightly that our bodies feel like they’ll meld together from the sheer pressure. Being so close to him might not be such a bad thing under different circumstances but I eventually realize he’s gasping for breath because my grip is so tight. Flying off the back of the bike
was
my biggest fear until I consider the thought of him passing out from lack of oxygen. I loosen my grip just enough to feel John breathing normally again.

I might not hate motorcycles
quite
as much as airplanes but it’s pretty close. Either way, I would’ve preferred the safety of my own two running feet than to placing my life in the hands of another person operating a piece of machinery. At least the roads are fairly empty at this early morning hour and there are no trees or boulders to avoid like the last motorcycle ride John and I took along the river. Still, it’s a mistake when I peer around John’s body and see the world speeding by us in a blur. My mind swims in choppy waters at the sight, even though there have been times I can recall running nearly this fast.

Amelia likes to drive fast, not to mention swerve in and out of traffic we encounter. John matches her move for move. The only time I’m not worried about getting into a horrible crash is when the two slow down when they spot police cruisers, the sight of which makes me nervous for a whole different reason. But Amelia and John keep a sharp eye out for the authorities. Despite the amount of police patrolling this area, they never once catch us going twice the legal speed limit. It’s not long before we reach the Interstate Highway and leave the Poconos behind us. It’s the second time in the last few days that I’ve left in a rush but I have a feeling it will also be the last time I see these mountains.

My stomach still churns from our speed but it’s a much easier ride once we’re away from the twisty turning mountainous roads. I continue holding tightly onto John but the motorcycle’s constant vibrations actually end up relaxing me. I was pretty well rested when we started our journey but I feel myself growing groggy again. Falling asleep would
not
be the smartest idea at the moment but that doesn’t mean I can’t relax my mind and allow it to wander, allow more of the fogginess to lift from my past.

John and Amelia are close to me right now and the worry gnawing at the back of my mind remains centered on Cassie and Jack. But the memory that starts to come into focus in my mind has nothing to do with any of these four…