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Lizzy Langdale and the Unassigneds
A cottage in the middle of nowhere

A cottage in the middle of nowhere

CHAPTER 37 - A COTTAGE IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE

“What’s the plan then?” Selma inquires. “Where are we going?”

“Selma! I’m so glad you came.” Mother gets up and hugs the young woman. “I hope you’re not in too much trouble with the others.”

“They couldn’t make up their minds, so I made it up for them. As long as I don’t get caught I won’t be thrown out.” She turns around and faces Uncle Howard instead. “Come here, old man.” He gets up too and accepts her hug.

“I always knew they’d get you sooner or later,” he tells her with a knowing laugh.

“Oh, those oldies, never. I’m completely my own.”

“And yet working for them.”

“Better than you, where have you been all these years? You just up and left us.”

“Long story,” he evades. She looks around at all the young faces turned up at her.

“My, what a sight.” She scans our dirty faces, tangled hair and worn out clothes. “I’ll help you get where you need to go, and I’ll return a full report to the council.”

“Without Victor, we have no cloacker, where ever we go the officials can follow,” mother interjects.

“He didn’t want to come, wouldn’t risk it.”

“He always was a cautious one,” uncle Howard comments.

“Better that than to have him act like you,” mother scolds. “Are there any others in the inner circle?”

“No, none. New recruits are scarce.”

“Have been for ages,” mother comments in a mumble. “Any bright ideas?” She asks and looks around at us. If we can’t hide, the only thing left to do is fight.

“To do that we need information and a place to take a stand,” she answers me. Brody has both. “I agree, he is our best bet. We’ll find a place to set up, get the children some rooms preferably. Criss will be lookout, Marie and Andy will be guards until we have a better plan. Dear, do you know of a place we can hide out? No, not that, we’ll save that in case we find a Cloaker to help us, with a bit of work it’d be perfect, we don’t want it waste it. We need a temporary hiding place, preferably isolated with a lot of open space. No, not that either, can you think of anything remote, isolated? Yes, yes something like that. It’s not all that big, but it’ll do for now. Can you picture it, very clearly, very detailed?” Brody looks annoyed at the privacy intrusion, but it’s hard to not think of something when asked, and he has no practice.

“Picture it clearly in your mind and take my hand,” Selma tells Brody. “I can’t take all of you at once, and I’ll need a guide,” she explains.

“I’ll go,” mother says. “I’m easier to do without here.” Howard nodds. She closes her eyes and focuses. I’ve never seen her have to concentrate like this before, usually, she looks no different when she reads minds than when she breathes. I suppose she’s taking a deep breath now. “Okay, I’ve got it,” she says and takes Selma’s hand. They disappear from the bubble for a moment and the pop back in without having moved a muscle.

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“I’ve got it now,” Selma says. “But like I said, I can’t take all of you at once. Margaret, Howard, Criss, Andy, Marie, you’ll go first and set up, I’ll bring the rest along in trips.” Of course, this results in an argument. Howard won’t leave the children, but mother argues it’s better to have him in place for when the shock of new surroundings hit, and she also refuses to leave the sergeant alone.

“Howard goes with the first group of kids,” I bud in. “Brody will stay here until the last trip, then we have someone in each place. Every other Langdale will go now and set up so we’re protected.” The sergeant stirs a little, almost unnoticeably.

“Yes,” mother replies to something he thought. “We’ll listen to Lizzy.”

“Lizzy stays with the triplets and Britt stays with me,” Brody states as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It kind of is. “Howard stays with the transformers… How many can you take at once?” He looks to Selma, but his posture is more confident again, not the scared Unassigned awestruck by the Langdale family, but the troop leader who knows the ins and outs and what to do.

“Preferably only five, but seven will be okay too,” Selma answers.

Brody takes stock of the flock. “Howard will go first, you five will go with him.” He hesitates a moment. “And you.” He points to a 6th child, leaving Selma’s number of passengers seven. “Mr. and Mrs. Langdale next and you five with them. Nico and Criss next with those two, you six go with Marie, you six are with Andy, you four with Lizzy,” he says and points to the triplets and another girl. “And you are with Britt and me,” he tells the last child. I don’t know the logic behind the assigned travel partners, but none of us have any doubt it is there. And he knew the names of all my siblings, how did he manage that?

“Let’s go then,” Selma says as if the king has spoken and it’s time to simply obey. The groups need no other incentive than Brody’s words to gather, and one by one they disappear.

“Are you okay to do this Tim?” Brody wants to know when it becomes our turn.

“I’ll be okay, it’s not a long trip.” Brody nodds at me, and I carry all triplets to my side. Tim takes Teresa’s hand carefully, a nervous, almost scared glint in his eyes. He reaches out and takes Trixie’s hand too, and this seems to steady him a little, like the old-fashioned weight at the post office, equal weights on both sides. I take the hand of the fourth girl and Taresa, and Selma takes the fourth girl’s hand and Trixies. It’s a rush, flying through the air like that. It’s not so much that Selma just disappears in one place and shows up in another, she actually flies through the air with such ease and comfort it’s like a cool breeze on a warm summer day, only I can see the waves beneath us aren’t moving. I don’t know if she stops times every time she flies, or if she simply slows it down, but it’s the most pleasant trip I have ever had, and when we land the others act as if she’s only been gone a minute.

She sets us down carefully, and Tim immediately let’s go of his sisters.

“That was worse than I’d imagined,” he admits.

“Lizzy dear, there you are.” Mother comes over with a whole line of children following in her steps, like a duck with her ducklings. “Do you think you and Mr. Brody could set up a shield around the house? Something they can’t walk through.” Mr. Brody. I almost laugh at that address. “That’s definitively not funny,” she tells me off. “He’s a good man, and he deserves our respect.”

“Of course, I’d never…” I’d never disrespect him, it just sounds funny to add the ‘Mr’ to his name, especially since it’s a name I gave him because his parents were too lazy to ever name him anything but ‘boy’.

“You are kidding, right?” mother asks. “How can… with parents like that, it’s a wonder he is as he is.”

“Who?” Brody asks and steps away from Selma. Mother just shakes her head at the ground and mutters something about ‘miscreants’ and ‘reprehensible rascals’.

“You’ve made a mighty good impression on my mother,” I tell him instead. I look up at the house, or cottage or whatever word would best describe that. It’s wooden, and not all too big considering how many of us there are, but it’s modern, that’s obvious. Modern with a sense of history, build to fit into the surrounding nature and not destroy the picturesque view and at the same time offer all the accommodations the modern family requires of a vacation home. We go inside and mother gets the youngest children settled into the beds.

“I’ll go back to the council and give a report,” Selma says and waves goodbye before disappearing.