A Prim and a Prophet
Chapter 19: He’s Still Watching You

Copyright© 2019 by Christopher Podhola

“The world is not a singular place with only one layer. There is depth, like a lake, and there are creatures hiding where the sun cannot see them.”

Excerpts from the diaries of Panpar

After the “Pelt the Prim” demonstration and their little talk afterward, Jo-Karna insisted Tommy and Whitney (referring to them both as Jo-Laina and Argimos, of course) take a trip to visit Kam and Kat. She also insisted that, since Jim was serving no other useful purpose, he be the one to take them. Burnsville to Jacksonville Missouri was a three-hour trip and Blake agreed to let Jim drive them in his car.

When Whitney asked what they were going to do until they got back, Jo-Karna asked Carol Anne if she would take her to the mall again, but this time she wanted to try out a few, more feminine outfits. Aunt Carol, thrilled by the idea, agreed and the three of them--Raris, Jo-Karna, and Carol Anne--eagerly went into the house to get ready for another trip to the mall.

Blake was content to have a peaceful house for the day, which left Tommy, Whitney and Agent Ceiphart to make their road trip.

Tommy sat up front in the passenger seat of Blake’s Bonneville, while Whitney sat in the back. She couldn’t hear or see through her own eyes anyway, so it made more sense for Tommy to sit in the front.

“So,” Tommy asked bluntly, “why are you not off somewhere trying to find terrorists? Isn’t that your job, or something?”

Agent Ceiphart made a little grunting noise. “I have a feeling I’m a little bit unemployed now. I haven’t heard a word from the director or the agency since we left the bunker yesterday.”

“Oh, sorry,” Tommy said.

“Don’t be,” Jim said. “I became a part of Homeland Security to stop terrorists, not assist them. I’m not one of those people who believe it’s okay to do “whatever it takes” to protect this country.” Jim took one hand off the steering wheel, wiped the sweat from his brow, and continued. “Kidnapping two teenagers and locking them up? Taking their parents? To me that’s not protecting this country. It’s terrorism. I’m not a terrorist.”

“What were they thinking anyway?” Whitney asked.

Jim chuckled under his breath and shook his head almost indecipherably. “Margraves never came out and said it but if I had to guess, I would say he was planning on using you two in his fight against terrorism. I think you were probably going to be his secret weapons.”

The house Kat and Kam lived in was warm, inviting guests inside from the moment it came into view, the curtains, visible through the windows from the end of the driveway, were brightly colored, contrasting with the wooden siding crisply, the front door closed, still begged to be knocked on, with golden bells handing in the center. The front porch, made from cedar called out to them as they drove toward it, pleading to be tread upon, by all with a foot. The lawn, mowed with care, trimmed to excess by skilled and attentive hands, and the green of the grass saluted the bright blue sky, while the colorful flowers stood in their bed, watching them drive toward the garage.

Their driveway itself wasn’t in much better shape than the road, but their driveway was not an indicator of the house they lived in. Tommy’s eyes were pinned to the house from the moment that they turned into the driveway. They lived in a two-story house, lined with dark colored stone on the west side. Kam said his father was a Marine, and if that was the case, he was a high ranked one with a nice pension.

Kat burst from the side door the moment they parked. She was carrying a white sheet of paper in her hand and she marched straight up to Tommy. She stopped in front of him and began to point at it forcefully. Kam came out behind her and stood next to her with a concerned look on his face.

Tommy looked down to where pointed. There was a drawing of a large serpentine eye on the front of it, the eye of Isolem Treff, an eye neither Tommy, nor Whitney, would soon forget. Kat pointed at it again, and then pointed at Whitney, and then at Tommy.

“She’s been freaking out all day. We can’t figure out what she’s getting at.”

Kat and Kam’s parents walked out slowly, taking stance behind Kat and Kam, both of them folding their arms in front of them, both of them clearly distraught.

Kat pointed at her drawing again, taking her finger, first jamming it onto the center of the eye, second pointing at Whitney, and third pointing it at Tommy in an insistent manner. “Uh, uh, ugh,” she mumbled as if she were trying to say something, but the words just not forming in her lips.

“We know,” Whitney blurted, “he is still watching us. We know that he was somehow behind the attack yesterday, Kat. Is that what you are trying to say?”

Kat nodded eagerly and hugged Tommy, mumbling more nonsensical words while she did.

“Who is still watching you? Who is responsible for that attack! Shouldn’t we call the police and tell them if you know something?” Kat’s mom objected.

Tommy and Kam gave each other a worried look. Kat pulled away from Tommy slightly and shook her head no.

“No? Then what are all the rest of those drawings about, Kat? What in God’s name is going on with my daughter? She can’t talk anymore! She was fine when she left, but now she can’t talk? What happened at that camp? And I swear to God if another person tries to tell me nothing like I’m a stupid child then I’m going to start screaming!”

“What other drawings?” Tommy asked.

“Don’t you change the subject, young man! What is going on with my daughter! What did you two do to her?”

“They didn’t do it, mom. If anything they saved her,” Kam said as he walked up to Whitney and put his arm around her. “She saved her.”

It felt nice to have Kam’s arm around her, but there was still the twinge of guilty responsibility coursing through her veins.

Oh God, Tommy thought to her, not this again.

What, she answered, you act like you weren’t just enjoying having Kat’s arms around you.

She hugged me!

Uh, huh.

Can you explain any of this?” Kam’s mom was asking Agent Ceiphart. “What role your kids had in what happened to my daughter?”

“I, uh ... they’re not my kids,” Jim answered. He took two steps forward, extending his hand outward. “Agent Jim Ceiphart,” he said. “Homeland Security.”

“Homeland Security?” Kam’s dad said as he looked to Tommy and Whitney. He hadn’t spoken a word before, choosing to stand silently and wait for the answers to start coming. Agent Ceiphart’s announcement of his role with the government broke his silence. “What in the world are you two kids up to?” He wore the accusation in his eyes. They pinched together like two accusing fingers. He looked back and forth between Tommy and Whitney, occasionally switching his gaze to his son, as if knowing that, one-way or the other, he at least knew more than what he was saying. He was also just as tired as his wife was of not getting the information he wanted.

“I think we should show them the pictures,” Kam said.

“No,” his dad responded, “you can show them the pictures after we get some answers!”

“Dad,” Kam said. His was firm but he was also extending his father an invitation to hear him out. “I think it might be a lot easier to give you the answers you are asking for as the pictures are explained. We can kill two birds with one stone.”

“What pictures?” Jim asked.

“She’s been drawing them all day—ever since she woke up. She’d draw a few of them, go to the window and look out for a minute or two, then go back to her room and draw a few more. Most of them are pictures of this creepy eye, but there are a lot of others. I don’t know, maybe a hundred of them. She’s been at it all day.”

Kat nodded and took Tommy’s hand. She started to drag him toward the house and everyone filed in behind them. She didn’t stop pulling him along until they got into her room. It was a room filled with drawings. They hung from the walls—pinned there with thumbtacks. They were taped to the two windows overlooking her -flowery bedspread. She had them taped to the back of the door that led into the hallway, and to the two closed, closet doors. They were lying on the floor, spread out in disarray, and covered her pillow in a pile.

Kat let go of Tommy’s hand as they entered her room. She began to sift through various piles of drawings, each done with pencil, some just shaded with lead, but others colored in after she drew the initial pencil drawing. Kat continued to search through the drawings until she found the one she was looking for. She picked up one of the colored drawings, went back to Tommy and slapped the drawing against his chest. “Oooh,” she said after she held it to his chest. She went back to looking through her mess of pictures, sifting through them once again until she found a second drawing. Whitney and the others were filing into her room and finding spots to stand. Kat went to Whitney with another colored picture. She held it out toward her, “oooh,” she commented.

“I don’t understand what she’s trying to say,” Kam said.

Whitney looked at the picture that Tommy was holding. It was a picture of a lion that wasn’t quite a lion. Its face, dog-like, but also some resemblance to a bear, but most of the skin on its body looked like it had scales. What you might expect to see on a dragon in a fairytale, but the creature had no wings.

Kat searched through the drawings again finding the one she wanted. She picked it up, looked at it, then at Agent Ceiphart and walked up to him. “Oooh,” she said.

“You,” Whitney repeated. “She’s saying you!”

Kat nodded eagerly. It was the most lively she had seen her since her return from Nethermore.

Kat quickly found another drawing, picked it up and handed it to Tommy. “eyaah,” she said.

“Erik?” Tommy said as he gazed at the picture. Kat nodded and went back to one of her closet doors. She took down a drawing that was clearly of Kam, plastered it against his chest, “ooh,” she said.

“Me?” he repeated and she nodded.

Kat returned to her search, scrambling around, scratching her head from time to time as she looked. Her eyes finally found the drawing she wanted. It was one of the drawings hanging from one of the windows. She walked up, pulled it down and brought it to Tommy. “eh, er,” she said.

Tommy gave her a dumbfounded look, Kam shrugged and Whitney spoke again. She recognized the face in the photo immediately. “Decker,” she said. “Decker Albright.”

Kat gave an enthusiastic thumb before going back for more photos. The one that she settled upon was a small grouping of people drawn onto a dark foreboding mountainside. She took that picture off the wall, cleared a section of floor and laid the drawing in the middle. She went to Tommy, took the drawings he had in his hands and laid them on the first one. She took both Kam’s and Jim’s photos and joined them in with the pile and got onto her knees. She picked up all of the drawings of each of them. “Eee,” she said.

“We?” Tommy asked and Kat nodded.

“Eeer,” she added pointing at the drawing of the mountain.

“Here?” Whitney said. “Yes,” she added. “We are going there.”

“Going where?” Kat’s mom piped in. “Nobody’s going there! Did you see that drawing?” she added with a note of concern. “Did you look at any of those drawings?”

Kat thumped herself on the forehead, walked up to her pillow and removed the drawing from the bottom of the pile there. She held it against her chest with a slight smile on her face. “Ee,” she said and added very slowly. “Eh, ih, ee!”

Whitney looked through Tommy’s eyes to see the drawing Kat was holding. It was definitely a drawing of Kat. Kat’s skill with a drawing pencil turned out to be quite extraordinary, but it wasn’t a pretty Kat with ostrich feathers woven into her hair. It was a black breastplate wearing Kat, a sword wielding Kat, and a serious looking Kat. Saying the same for every drawing of every person that Kat had done, and it was the reason Kat’s mother seemed so bent.

Kat put her picture onto the pile with the others.

“Yes, Kat,” Whitney said. “You’re going too.”

“Over my dead body!” Kat’s dad proclaimed, wiping the smile from her face. “Now I want some answers and I want them NOW!”

The marine in him was coming out. The veins were standing out in his neck and, older man or not, he was still large and still carried himself like a marine. He was solid and he was angry.

Karl McCallister’s anger permeated his skin, a bulldog barely contained by its owners chain, ready and wanting to attack, but holding back, not allowed to bite. The pheromones in his sweat permeated the air, filling Whitney’s nostrils igniting her defensive mechanisms, prompting her to want to take immediate action and she had to calm herself. She knew Karl wasn’t a threat, but those pheromones mixing with her own adrenaline, combining with her own body chemistry, was a challenge to subdue. She did control those emotions, but not to the point of preventing the bracelet on her wrist from issuing her the tools of her trade. The thought of taking action did cross her mind, and her bracelet did obey the mental image of battle-dress and weaponry. As she stood there, in front of everyone, her clothing began to change from the common clothing of an everyday teenager, to a warrior’s wardrobe.

 
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