The thin line of hazy orange rose along the horizon, scattering between the trees which sparkled with early morning dewy diamonds in the yellow sunlight. Crisp air filled Cherry's lungs as she took in the beauty of a dawning day. It was always the best time of the day for her, even in the years she was alone. Even after she had been taken and all the horror she had endured. Not understanding why what she believed to be true had happened to her. Looking around, Cherry noticed the large cat was nowhere to be seen. Cherry guessed it had fulfilled its daily task and was on its way. Absently rubbing her injured arm, Cherry let her thoughts wander. They moved fluidly from memories of her childhood, teenagerhood, and the night she was taken; they stuttered over that section of her life. Cherry shook her head. Why was she taken all those years ago?
"For what reason did they feel they needed to take a person?" Cherry murmured, shaking her head, "it wasn't for ransom or to gain anything, was it?"
"Perhaps to manipulate," Steve said, standing next to her in the doorway, "good morning."
"Morning," Cherry whispered, "thank you for yesterday. This is all weird and scary."
"Oh yes," Steve said, nodding, "but all in a day's work."
Cherry chuckled, "You're going to throw the old line at me, huh?"
"If it will make you smile," Steve murmured, "you've been too serious and worried lately."
"Didn't think anyone noticed," Cherry said, sighing, "I'm not sure I know how to process everything that has happened or everything I've learnt."
"How do you mean?" Steve asked, stretching and breathing in deeply.
"Look at the last few years of my life," Cherry said, "the truth of my reality was changed. Someone wanted me ... to forget where I came from, who I was. They wanted me to be ... different, but why? What could they possibly gain?"
Steve sighed, looking out over the sparkling green world, turning to look at Cherry. "To happen all before your twenty-first birthday ... it's rough. Perhaps they wanted ..." he glanced at Cherry cocking his head to the side.
"What do you think he or they wanted?" Cherry asked.
Steve shook his head, "Not sure ..." he frowned, "no ... could it be that simple?"
"What could be so simple?" Cherry asked, frustration blooming in her eyes, "Steve, you need to speak in sentences."
"My apologies," Steve said, clicking his heels together and making a quick bow. "Hear me through this fantastical tale and tell me if you think it possible."
"Okay," Cherry said, grinning, "let's hear it."
"We know the Tenderhook brothers have had a feud with your family for a long time ... as far as I can make out ... generations," Steve said. "Your mom was the last in the line before meeting your dad and then having you, which made you last in the generational line."
Cherry nodded, giggling at the memory, "Dad always said he had to beat out the competition as mom was the most beautiful girl in town."
Steve grinned, "I heard a few stories myself. Here is what has been bothering me: there were several young men and women back then. Who was that competition? I know Silas had his try but who else?"
"You mean there could have been more than one man trying to get my mom's attention, but ... I see your point. We know it didn't work 'cause mom married my dad," Cherry said, "so how else would the Tenderhooks get the cabin and the land?"
"There are many other ways apart from legally," Steve said, "let's see ... bribery, intimidation, manipulation ..." Steve marked them off on his fingers. "To name a few, but they chose a trade by taking you," Steve said; Cherry gasped, giving Steve a horrified look. "They take you ... hold you for ransom, but your parents refuse to play ball and be coerced. So another angle needs to be found to get the treasure. The treasure, in this case, is the family heirloom, the cabin and the land."
"They put those things in me and make me take medication that will transform me into ..." Cherry shrugged, "what exactly."
"Their puppet," Steve said, "someone they can command and will get them through the various hurdles to the other side."
"You make it sound like a treasure-hunting movie," Cherry said, chuckling. "So what? I'm supposed to be the smart person who answers all the questions. The one who works out all the clues and hands over the treasure at the end?"
"Huh, never thought of it that way. Suppose you could make a movie of it," Steve said, shaking his head, "but they forgot one thing."
"What?" Cherry asked, glancing at him as she rubbed her arm again.
"They could genetically engineer anyone they wanted to be whatever the Tenderhooks wanted them to be," Steve said, "but they cannot change the roots of a person. The person's essence is what and who they truly never change."
"Huh, my mom used to say if you have strong roots, you cannot fall for anything," Cherry murmured, "I guess she was right. The changes you are talking about are at the DNA level, isn't it?"
"Yes. Knowing this now, what made you come back to the cabin?" Steve asked.
"There could be so many reasons. It could have been an internal clock, it could have been ..." Cherry sighed, "Steve, it could have been anything. All I remember was the feeling of suffocation and the desire to escape everything. Why the cabin? Well, the cabin came to mind; I came here."
"It's really that simple?" Steve asked, frowning.
"No, there's more ..." Cherry frowned, "a few days before I left, someone made an offer on the cabin. That reminded me that it belonged to my mother, and I came up here to look it over, repair it if necessary and get it ready to sell. I didn't remember anything about being read to there or ..." Cherry's words trailed off; she blinked quickly before continuing. "I didn't remember my childhood, but I do remember having dreams about sleeping in the meadows and swimming in the lake below the waterfall."
"You subconsciously remind yourself of home," Steve whispered. "Sometimes a lifesaver. Other times a painful reminder of what you discarded. Either way, it's not unheard of to dream of things you no longer remember. Putting this all together leads us to the point where we have an idea the Tenderhooks are definitely after your parent's legacy. What is the legacy?"
"I never got that far," Cherry said, sighing as she watched the world awaken, "my mother said it would be revealed to me when I was ready but never told me what it was. She kept it a mystery.
"Well, that sucks," Steve said, with feeling, "let's have breakfast and put the next move into action. Do you know how to get to the pass from here?"
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
"Of course I do, but we don't need the pass to get to my home from here," Cherry grinned, "just the key to the back door."
"You have that?" Steve asked in surprise.
"No one has that," Cherry said with a mock frown, "it's like any normal home; it's always left available for anyone who comes home after curfew."
Steve chuckled as Cherry winked at him while turning and moving past him into the cave. She was definitely different from what he was told when growing up. Grinning as he watched her skip around the fire to their bags, she seemed carefree today, ready to take on the world and defeat it.
"Come on, Steve," Cherry called, waving packs of rations, "breakfast."
Nodding, he joined her, adding wood to the fire and bringing the smouldering coals to life in a blaze.
"First coffee, then food," she said.
"You're on. Let's eat," Steve said, taking a ration pack and bouncing it off her nose.
A gurgle of laughter rose from her, bubbling into a gasp of joy.
"Let's," she said, bouncing on her feet and turning in a circle, "I'm starving."
Stiff, cold and hungry, Sam pushed up from the cave floor, pausing to pull the piece of the map from her cheek.
"Ouch," she muttered, looking around as her senses caught the smell of cooked food and coffee, "what time is it?"
"Time you woke up, the sun has already risen, and the day is getting warmer," Stan said, handing her a cup of coffee, "you worked late last night. Amy is cooking breakfast for us. Then we're going through the caves and starting the last leg of the journey."
"You sound like a weatherman and personal assistant all rolled into one. Besides, we didn't decide last night which was the best way to go," Sam said, sipping her coffee and sighing gratefully.
"No, we didn't, but I read over the notes you made and threw in a few of my ideas to put together a way that will work," Stan said, crouching next to her, "you look adorable when you first wake in the morning. Never mind the cute flutter of your upper lip while you sleep."
Sam glared at him, "Say another word ..." she shook her head, sipping her coffee.
Stan grinned at her grouchy mood. Reaching out, he pulled a long strand of hair from her forehead, flicking it back into place.
"Thanks," Sam murmured, taking another sip of coffee, "why are you so chirpy?"
"Amy and I have been up for a while," Stan said, glancing at the fireplace, "look over what I've laid out here while I help Amy."
Nodding, Sam watched him join Amy at the fire. The other woman smiled shyly at Stan before pointing off to the side. The connection and emotions were apparent between the two, and Sam was happy for them. But on the other hand, jumping to a conclusion had gotten her into trouble previously. It was better to stay out of it.
"Oh well, come what may," she muttered, turning to the sheets of paper Stan had left next to her.
Slowly working through the legend's marked areas, Sam realised he had a creativity that rivalled her own.
"This could work," she mumbled, looking between the maps, "ah, he solved the problem of the crossings and rivers ... impressive."
"Breakfast," Stan said, handing Sam a plate and waving Amy to join them, "we might as well eat while we talk about the direction we're going."
"You solved the dangerous route issue," Sam said, looking at Stan.
"You were already there; it just needed tweaking," Stan said, "teamwork remember."
Nodding, Sam grinned, "Yeah, I remember. So ..." she said, glancing between Stan and Amy, "what are we discussing? Rations, supplies of another nature. Who goes into the scary tunnel first?"
"All of the above," Amy said, smiling, "this is so exciting. It's like the movies."
"Really?" Sam said, frowning, "there is a difference."
"I know it's not really a movie," Amy said, shrugging.
"Apart from that," Sam said, "if we get shoot badly enough, we die."
"On that positive note," Stan interrupted as Amy paled, "let's talk about our way forward."
Nodding, the women fell silent as Stan took charge of the situation. Slowly the two women began to interact, and eventually, the three sat around the maps eating and chatting. When the last piece of delicious stew was eaten, and the plates washed up, Sam folded the maps with the sensation of a confused determination.
"Thanks for including me," Amy said, glancing Sam's way, "Sam, you okay?".
Turning, she smiled, "I ... think I am ..." Sam said, frowning, "perhaps I am ..." shaking her head, she met Amy's worried expression. "I'm fine. Really I am just trying to ensure we have everything we need to face whatever may come our way. Also, I try and get a little focus before going on a mission, especially something that may have unknowns ahead."
"Wow, that is a lot to put on anybody. It explains why the two of you don't always agree," Amy whispered," Stan does protection and retrieval, and you do missions. Is your work classified as well?"
Sam stared at her for a moment, "Who told you what Stan does?"
"Oh .. Stan," Amy said, smiling, "we were talking last night, and the conversation went in that direction; I think it's so cool. Both of you doing classified work. You do classified work, right?"
"Everything I do is classified," Sam said, watching the woman glance over her shoulder again, "and yes, I do missions."
"Guess that is what this is," Amy sighed, glancing in Stan's direction again, "a mission. Don't you think Stan is brave? So very brave? He is, isn't he?"
Frowning, Sam took in Amy's rapt expression. The lengthy sigh from parted lips like an Elizabethan heroine puzzled Sam, whose eyebrows rose in surprise. Looking between Amy and Stan, she said, "I ...guess he is brave."
"Oh, I understand your reservation. You two are colleagues and partners. I know about the unmentioned rule of never dating a colleague. Also, I know you don't see him the way I do," Amy said, dreamily sighing as she watched Stan reenter the cave and check his backpack.
Rolling her eyes, Sam pulled her backpack onto her shoulders."
No, I don't see Stan as you do. Drooling over a man when you're on a mission is dangerous and distracting. It takes your focus from where it should be and can land you in hot water ..." she said quickly, continuing when Amy frowned. "Trouble ... lands you in trouble. Oh boy," she muttered, folding the maps and pushing them into her vest pocket, "If everyone is ready, can we get going? All nods? Brilliant. Let's move out."
Holding the written, revised route, Sam moved toward the back of the cave, pausing as she chose the tunnel, "We taking the middle one."
"Yes," Stan called, "take Amy. I'm right behind you."
"I'm sure you won't be that long. Not even you can drag your feet every day."
Stan laughed, shaking his head, "Go ahead, I'm nearly done here."
Sam felt her alarm bells clanging away as Amy moved toward the tunnel's entrance.
"If you're sure," Sam said, glancing over her shoulder and taking in Stan kneeling next to his backpack. What could he possibly be doing that required him to stay back to see to it?
Slowly following Amy, Sam entered the cave, flicking on her flashlight.
Stan packed away the last of his supplies while waiting for the women to enter the tunnels and move further away. When he could no longer see the lights, he rose, turning toward the entrance and signalling. A group of heavily armed black-clad men moved into the cave.
"Is this subterfuge necessary?" one asked, "we spoke with Greyson, and he strongly suggested you tell her we are trailing you."
"Glad to see you got rid of the insignia," Stan nodded, "thank Greyson for the information, but she is already having issues with two of us along for the mission. It would be better that no one but I knew of your involvement here. Do you know the route we'll be taking? YOu have the same information we have and any possible deviations."
"We do, Sir," the second of the trio said, "but we still think letting her know would be for the best."
"I'm not going over that again," Stan said, glancing at the tunnels, "please relay the information to Greyson and let him know."
The men looked between themselves before nodding, "We've got your back."
"Thank you," Stan said, "I'd better go before either woman comes looking for me."
"We'll follow your markings; otherwise, we'll pick up your trail according to your maps," the third man said, "go light is heading this way, and I hear the civilian talking."
Nodding, Stan moved into the tunnel, almost running into Sam.
"Whoa," he said, stepping around her, making her track him as he moved into the tunnels, "told you I would be coming."
"I thought I heard voices," Sam said, "anything I should know about, anything you feel you need to tell me?"
"No, can't think of anything; as for the voices, just a case of a little backup should we need it," Stan said, grinning. "Come on ... don't tell me you left Amy in the dark and on her own. You know she is going to freak out."
"She is more resourceful than you know," Sam said, following him into the tunnel and glancing over her shoulder as she melted into the shadows, "back up, huh?"
Waiting a half beat, Sam noticed three shadows moving toward the tunnels. Narrowing her eyes, she took in the heavy weaponry and black clothing with darker patches where badges could have been.
"Back up indeed," Sam muttered, "but for whom?"
"Sam, come on, you're way behind," Amy called, "Stan sent me to find you. He was worried you got lost. Isn't it amazing? We have already found the next point on the map. We may get to our destination quicker than we thought. So much for wanting to get moving. Stan and I will lose you if you can't keep pace."
"Sure," Sam said, following Amy through the tunnels, watching her bounce along, glancing over her shoulder once more, "or we may never make it at all."