Part Six

“The scrolls?” Major Charles frowned, waving the siblings toward the kitchen table. He grabbed Parker’s plate and flipped the toast onto it, snagging a bottle of water in his free hand. “Jarod told me about your trip to Carthis. He said the two of you found the scrolls but that your father…”

Interrupting him as he placed the plate before her, Parker answered, “Yes. But we didn’t read them. Ocee… Ocee said that whoever read the scrolls would be faced with eternal damnation,” choking off a dry laugh, she continued. “Not that I’m particularly concerned about anyone’s interpretation of the state of my soul, but they killed Ocee over it. And others.” Shuddering, she placed her hand over her stomach. “We couldn’t figure out why Margaret wanted them so much that she would go seek them out on Carthis. Knowing what death and destruction lay in their wake…” her voice trailed off as Major Charles sighed, taking a seat beside her.

“I’ve heard of the scrolls only once, Parker, and it was from your mother,” the Major stated, staring at his hands as he twirled an old gold wedding band on his ring finger. “She told Margaret she’d heard a terrible story, about a scroll written in God’s hand. Words that could save the world if the scrolls fell into the right hands, or destroy it if they fell into the wrong ones. She said they were written like the books of the Bible, a prophecy. Catherine never discussed the content of the scrolls, or told Margaret that she read them. At least, not to my knowledge.”

“How did she know my mother?” Parker asked.

“Margaret told me once that they had been roommates in college. Beyond that, I know very little of your mother separate from the Centre. She and Margaret saw each other several times a month until Jarod was born. Not long after that, she met your father. A few years later, you were born. I didn’t see your mother again until Jarod was taken,” the expression on Major Charles’ face fluctuated between tired, sad, and something akin to amused. “She never let you out of her sight. You clung to her legs most of the time. She wanted nothing more than to find our son so that we could bring him home. After Emily was born, Jarod and Kyle had both been taken… we ran to keep them safe. Catherine intended to take you, Jarod, and another boy from the Centre and raise you until she could get back in touch with us. They must have found out…”

“I don’t think they did,” Miss Parker answered, clasping the water bottle between her hands and shaking her head, words she had never spoken but pondered for years rising to the surface. “I think that they may have known my mother was inclined toward doing something about the Centre, but they never intended to kill her until after Ethan was born. They killed her because Ethan was the last thing they needed… after that, Mama was a liability. When she faked her death in that elevator, she knew she was pregnant, knew that they wouldn’t hurt her. This is… about something different, a plan or a project that Ethan, Jarod and I are all integral parts of. Maybe Angelo, too. Probably others, including Jim. Baby Parker, my little brother was probably a key player, too. And my child. I know who the players are meant to be, I just don’t know what it is they wanted to do. What we’re looking for on the mainframe, it’s going to be fragmented and probably require a lot of leaps in logic.”

“If this is truly a plan they’ve been pulling together for over thirty years, they are not going to just let it go, Parker.” Sydney’s words elicited a nod of agreement from the brunette.

Jim and Debbie watched from the far end of the table, occasionally sparing glances at each other as they listened to the conversation around them.

“No,” Major Charles agreed, “they aren’t going to simply let this go. That’s why Mr. Broots and I are going to find this blue box. Jim and Ethan can design a decryption program while we’re gone. You,” he nodded to Parker, “and Sydney can try to piece together these phrases and visions you’re picking up from your mother. Ben and Debbie can help you get it all sorted and on paper, along with other pertinent information we may not all be privy to at this point. If we intend to defeat the Centre, we’re going to have to trust each other. Clearly, this will be much simpler if we are working from the same information.”

Parker’s gaze held steady, once more examining the man beside her as if trying to ascertain his level of trustworthiness. No one spoke, and the Major felt as if he should hold his breath. After a few moments of silence, she gave a sharp nod then pushed herself away from the table. Placing their fate on the table made her ever-present urge to vomit rise with a vengeance.

He watched as she turned the corner out of the room, heading for the nearest bathroom. Turning to Broots, Major Charles spoke. “Where is the nearest satellite office, Mr. Broots?”

“Uh… Denver, I think. Denver would be the one with a blue box we’d want. I’ll have to find the nearest storage facility…” Broots replied, pushing his chair back hastily. “I can…”

“No need, Mr. Broots. Today is Friday, so we can’t do much in the way of getting this blue box until after midnight, if I understood you correctly. For now, we’ll just lay out the best plan of action we can.”

Ethan eased out of his seat and slid around his father, a soft smile on his face as he slid behind him and headed after his sister.

“What about Jarod?” Ben asked, voicing the question the Major and Sydney had both been pondering as they watched the young man exit the room.

“He’ll call back when he’s reached a secure line,” Major Charles assured. “Jarod knows enough about the Centre to know that whatever is going on here,” he lifted the nearby dishes into his left hand, stacking them on top of each other, “is sensitive.”

“What will you tell him, Major Charles?” Sydney asked, placing his chin into his upturned hand.

“Nothing yet,” the other man responded. “Just that we are trying to work out the best way to gain access to all of the Centre’s records. After all, at the moment we know very little. Everything we have here, on a larger Centre conspiracy, is supposition. Nothing else need concern him at the moment.” Eyeing the stack of dishes before meeting Sydney’s gaze, he nodded his head. “I want to protect my son just as much as you do, Sydney. There’s no use telling him something that may or may not be true, just to get him riled up and ready to engage the Centre in a battle to the death.”

--

“Miss Parker?” Debbie called, slipping into her bedroom and spying the older woman sprawled across her bed.

Upon seeing the girl approaching the edge of the bed, Parker reached for her hand and tugged, pulling Debbie up beside her. “How are you, Debbie?”

Shrugging, she leaned her head near Miss Parker’s, laying claim to the other half of the pillow. “I’m okay.” After a short pause, the girl sighed, “I miss my friends and my things… but I’m glad to be here with you and Daddy, and all of your friends and family. I don’t… I don’t really understand, Daddy won’t explain what’s really going on.”

Reaching an arm behind the girl’s head, the older woman turned to her side, eye’s meeting Debbie’s. “Your father loves you, Debbie. He’s just trying to protect you.”

“He’s not protecting me, Miss Parker! I know something bad is going on. I heard you and Major Charles last night, I came to your room when I heard you having a nightmare but he was already here. Daddy always told me to be careful of the Centre and that if I saw anything strange to tell him or you right away. Everything was normal a few weeks ago, then all of a sudden Daddy and Sydney were picking me up at school and driving to Maine. Then you left, and we followed you to North Carolina. Now we’re in Wyoming. All I know is that the bad people at the Centre did something to hurt you and you think they’re coming after us to do something even worse! I’m scared and I don’t understand.” Tears welled in the young teenager’s eyes as she turned her face to the left, finding herself almost nose to nose with her idol and friend.

“Debbie… Broots, your dad, he doesn’t explain a lot of what is going on because we don’t really know very much. It’s your father’s place to tell you these things, not mine,” she stroked her hand through the girl’s hair. With a sigh, Parker bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth. “I’ll tell you what I think you need to know, okay?” Debbie nodded against her, and the two settled on the bed as she began to speak.

“You know my mother died when I was very young? The story I had been told of how she died was not entirely true, but we only discovered that last year. You see, Ethan is my baby brother. My mama died right after he was born. Ethan is very special, like Jim in some ways,” her tone was soft, thoughtful.

“Like you?” Debbie asked, eyes wide and serious.

With a sad smile, the older woman continued. “Yes, like me. Ethan and I, we hear voices. My mother called it the “Inner Sense”. It tells us what to do, sometimes, kind of like that feeling you get when you know something is wrong? Instead of just getting that feeling, we hear things, and sometimes have visions. Ethan… doesn’t seem to have the visions, or premonitions, as frequently as I do. The voices sometimes guide him to act out parts of them, though.”

“What does that have to do with the Centre?” the girl prodded, rolling to her side to completely face Parker.

Taking the girl’s hand in her own, she placed it over her flat stomach. “You know I’m pregnant, right Debbie? That I’m going to have a baby?” Watching the girl’s slow, hesitant nod, Parker smiled. “The Centre created Ethan. They performed a procedure on my mother called artificial insemination, which means that they anesthetized her – like for surgery – and used Major Charles’ genetic material to fertilize one of her eggs.” Parker knew she was skipping the dirtier parts of the explanation, but figured she would ask whatever questions she needed the answers to later. “That’s why Ethan is my brother, but Major Charles’s son. This baby was created the same way. I didn’t even know about him until last week.”

“But why? And is it Major Charles’ baby too? Like Ethan?”

“I don’t know the answers to those questions Debbie, I wish I did. In a few weeks we’ll probably be able to figure out who the father is. As for why the Centre created this child… I don’t know. Ethan, Jarod, Angelo, maybe even me,” she laid her own hand over her heart, “The Centre used us for experiments. We were experiments. They trained us to be a certain way and to perform certain duties. But we don’t know why, or what they planned for us.”

“Did your mama know? You said at breakfast that she was trying to tell you something,” Debbie reminded her, uncertain eyes flicking between Miss Parker’s face and her own hand.

“I think she knew at least part of the reason; I’m not sure if she knew everything or if she is just trying to lead us to the answers based on what she already knew. She has led us this far,” she said solemnly. “She may be able to guide us the rest of the way.”

“Remember when I first met you?” Debbie asked after a moment of silence, “how we opened the present your mama gave you on the day she died? I told you I’d never open it because if I did, there wouldn’t be any more presents from your mama.”

“I remember,” her smile was sad, but her eyes glistened with fond memories.

“Your mama has lots more presents for you, Miss Parker. I was wrong,” she snuggled in closer, breathing in the scent of perfume. She did not have to look up to know the older woman was pleased with her words. Debbie curled her free hand under her chin, the other still laying over Parker’s abdomen. “What will you name the baby, Miss Parker?”

With a chuckle, Parker lay her hand over the girl’s. “I think that’s a long way away, Debbie. Besides, I have a feeling this on will tell me his name when he’s ready.” The girl’s brow crinkled in confusion, leading the brunette to answer the unasked question. “When my mother was pregnant with Ethan, she said Ethan told her his name…” her voice trailed off. “She always told me, when I was growing up, that I had chosen my own name long before I was born. That must be how she named me as well.”

Looking up at her friend and confidant, the girl blinked slowly, a shy smile forming on her lips. “Miss Parker, what is your name? Your real name?”

Sudden tears sprung to Parker’s eyes, remembering the last time she had heard someone call her by her first name. It was the morning her mother died, just before they’d left for the Centre. Little Miss Parker had been not-so-secretively eyeing the present leaning against the back of the couch. Her mother had leaned down, tweaked her nose, and told her to be patient. As if she had known the day was going to forever alter the paths of all their lives – and, Parker could finally acknowledge, maybe she had known – Catherine gathered her little girl close and whispered words of love in her ear. Jarod had tried to call her by name once, shortly after her mother died. She’d cut him off as soon as she realized the word was forming on his lips, telling him that it was a name that no longer belonged to her.

Blinking back tears, the sudden moisture glistening on her eyelashes, Miss Parker leaned closer to Debbie and whispered the answer into her ear.