Going Back

This is chapter 60 of The Matriarchy, a serial fiction novel on FITK



Mary and Sean were walking in Hljómskálagarðurinn, the park near their apartment. There was a light mist. Although it was nearly 11 P.M., the sun had not yet set but, because of the thick overcast, it was quite dark. Some of the lights along the path had turned on.  As they neared Tjörnin, Mary stopped and put her hand on Sean’s arm.

“Something is happening,” she said, “I don’t know what it is exactly, but I’m sensing that there is a big change—something concerning Emily. It’s a good thing we’re going back tomorrow.”

“We’d better check in with our lawyers when we get back to the apartment,” said Sean as he looked at his watch, “Something may have come up, there should still be someone working there, it’s not yet 4 in Seattle.”

At the apartment, Mary opened her laptop and went to her inbox, there was a message from her lawyers:

Your flight destination has been changed from Seattle to Washington, D.C.. Exchange your tickets at KEF tomorrow. Your flight will leave at 1400 hours. Situation in Seattle is unstable. Your friend Jo killed an intruder who was probably an enemy agent. Molly was also targeted but managed to call police. FBI says there is a break in the investigation and needs you in Washington. The present situation in Seattle is too dangerous for you to return here.

“So it appears as if my feelings were right,” said Mary as she stood up, “Something is going on. We’ll still have time in the morning to say goodbye to Þora and Vilhjálmur.”

“I suppose I’ll have to testify to congress again,” said Sean, “When will this end?”

Mary walked over and laid down the bed, stretching out and closing her eyes.

“Sean… ” she started, and then gasped: “It’s Emily!”

Mary became rigid and her voice changed to that of Emily’s:

“Listen to me, my children. The time has come to end The Brotherhood and my captivity. On the next full moon, The Brotherhood will meet again. Midnight at The Chamber House. Be there, free me, end the curse, or else we are lost.”

Then, as quickly as it started, the possession was over.

“When is the next full moon?” asked Mary.

Sean did a quick search on his laptop. “Tuesday,” he said.

“We've got three days to find The Chamber House, and somehow get Emily out of there. Do you think the F.B.I. will believe us?” asked Mary, rising up to look at the message on the laptop.

“Not likely. I fear that we’ll be in ‘protective custody,’ the way I was held before. They want to arrest someone they can prosecute—not to free my grandmother and enable the return of The Matriarchy. They probably don’t want us in the way. It would look bad if we happened to get killed.”

“Let me have that, I’ve got an idea.”

While Sean got his things together for the flight tomorrow, Mary worked on the laptop. First she looked in her Ramsen files for information on John Regelind III, then she opened a map app. After a time she stopped and stared at the screen: there, in a clearing in a woods, isolated from any road, was a round building. The resolution was only fair, but as she toggled between the satellite and 3D modes, she could just make out a heavy door on the north side of the building.

“This is it Sean, the chamber house. Where Emily is being held,” she said.

“All we have to do is just walk up to it and open the door?”

“I’m sure the perimeter of the estate has a security system,” Mary said, “But I can deal with that. The trick will be in getting there at the right time. If we go along this river, here, we can probably bypass most of it. You don’t mind getting your feet wet, do you?”

“If we aren’t being held in some maximum security prison, it looks like it might work,” Sean said, “You aren’t afraid of anything, are you?”

“I am afraid of what will happen to all of us if we don’t stop them.”

---

John Regelind III sat in his study. He was tired, exhausted from his preparations for the next meeting of The Brotherhood. He was drunk, and he intended to stay drunk, at least until Tuesday night.  After then, it wouldn’t matter what he did.




Fiction