Chapter 112

None of the people that had loaded her into the back seat of the car had translator devices, so Rain could understand next to nothing of what they were telling her. It was only through gestures that the military officials had indicated to her that she was supposed to get into the back seat of the sedan. The driver, dressed in the same military uniform that the soldiers who had accompanied Lt. Laurent into her holding cell had been wearing, said nothing as he piloted her along a winding asphalt road, devoid of any other vehicles save the occasional green military jeep.
Alone in the back of the car, Rain could only guess where they might be headed. The vehicle seemed to be taking an easterly path, but even after all of the running and navigating over open ground she’d done recently, she didn’t know for sure. She tried to stay calm, telling herself, at least they weren’t headed south. They were still in Quebec, after all. But for all she knew, they were simply going to another building where illegals were collected or deposited before being sent back to their homelands. Or perhaps she’d be held there indefinitely.
The fact that she was alone now weighed on her mind almost as much as the fact that she had no idea where she was going. Where were the others? Wouldn’t it have been simpler to transport them all in the same vehicle if they were going to the same place? The fact that they had been separated made her think that she might not ever see any of them again--a thought that terrified her to the core. While she would desperately miss Mist, who had been her best friend for as long as she could remember, it was Adam’s face that filled her mind. Where was he? If the military in Quebec was evil enough to tear their group apart and keep them that way, this certainly wasn’t the utopia she’d thought it was--not at all.
Out the window, the scene was much prettier than the places they’d traveled through so far. She saw manicured lawns in front of what appeared to be state buildings, or perhaps offices of some sort. Eventually, they passed through what might have been a residential area. Off in the distance, up on a hill, she saw what she thought might be large houses made of white stone or brick. It was nearly winter here, and a cold wind stirred the remaining leaves on the trees, some of which were bright shades of red and orange. Even those that were already brown looked glossy compared to what she was used to in her dying country.
Relaxing against the plush seats in the back of the car seemed inviting, but no matter how hard she tried to concentrate on the here and now, the fact that she was no longer under threat of the Mothers, nor was she headed directly back across the border, the unsettling nature of being in a car with an unknown destination in a foreign land where she didn’t speak the language kept her alert, her eyes trained out the window.
She’d spent so much time traveling recently, it was difficult for her to judge how long they’d been driving, but if she had to hazard a guess, thirty minutes or so after she’d left the interrogation room, the sedan pulled up to a large iron gate in a solid brick wall that had to be at least twelve feet high. The driver lowered his window to speak to armed guards stationed at the gate, showed them a badge and said something that required a gesture at Rain. The guard standing outside of the car peeked through the open window at her. He didn’t look unfriendly, but at the same time, smiling or waving seemed inappropriate, so she met his stare for a few seconds before he nodded and replied to the driver in Canation.
Stepping away from the car, the guard said something to one of his colleagues, and the large iron gate began to roll out of the way. Once again, the car was moving, the gate closing behind it as they rolled up what Rain assumed was some sort of a long driveway.
In the distance, what she could only describe as a palace came into view. She’d never seen one before, of course, but she had read about them--mostly in old stories about princesses that were meant to remind her that women used to be completely dependent on men. Her limited knowledge of architecture left her wondering what sort of design the building was. A large two-story center with daunting white columns and rows and rows of steps leading to an ample porch was centered between two rectangular wings that stretched out to the side so far, Rain couldn’t see the end of the far wing as she approached from the south. How deep they were, she couldn’t say either, but this house, if that’s what it was, was massive. The grounds were immaculate, with neatly trimmed shrubbery along both wings and up to the stairwells, beautiful flowering trees, and a lawn as green as the evergreen bushes that adorned it.
Dozens of armed guards were posted everywhere Rain looked, but once again, their uniforms were different. They were brown, but not the same shade as Lt. Laurent’s. As the driver pulled closer to the house, she could see there was a circle drive out front, but there were also driving paths that led off behind the building in either direction. The driver slowly brought the car past the front of the palace to a drive on the far side of the building and pulled around.
He drove about halfway down the side of the wing and stopped outside of a doorway where another set of brown-clad guards met him. This time, the driver got out and went over to speak to them. Their conversation seemed jovial with a few laughs between whatever explanation he was giving them of who Rain was and what she was doing there. After a few moments, the driver came to open her door, one of the palace guards, a tall man with dark hair and kind eyes at his side.
“Rain Gretchintown,” the guard said as Rain slid out of the vehicle.
“Yes,” she said, hesitantly. He looked trustworthy, but she still didn’t know why she was here. She had to assume this was the prime minister’s residence. It seemed odd that they’d bring her here if she wasn’t about to have her request to speak with him granted, but then, for all she knew, Quebec was rich enough to have some sort of fancy prisons for people like her.
“Welcome to the Nation of Quebec,” he said, in her language. “Please follow me.”
Relieved that she’d found someone who could understand her, Rain didn’t hesitate anymore. She followed him, only giving a small nod of thanks to her driver since he wouldn’t understand her anyway, and the guard led her through the door, into the palace.
Rain found herself in another dimly lit hallway, but this one had plush red and gold carpet on the floor, and the walls were painted a soft off-white that picked up the light from sconces placed every ten feet or so on each side. There were doors, too, lots of them. Thick wooden doors that seemed to indicate something important was going on behind them.
“How was your trip from the wall?” he asked as they walked along, Rain slightly behind him.
“Terrifying,” Rain said, getting a chuckle out of him. “I had no idea where I was going.”
“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “The border security forces can be a little intimidating. You are at Maple Leaf Hall now, Prime Minister Bissett’s residence. I am Sgt. Stringer. I head up the prime minister’s defenses.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Rain said, though she wasn’t certain of that yet. She still had many questions. “Do you happen to know where my friends are?”
He turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow. “They didn’t tell you?” he asked.
Rain shook her head. “I haven’t seen them since they separated us to question us.”
Stringer shook his head. “They are here. Safe and sound. I am taking you to them now.”
Rain blew out all of the breath in her lungs, glad to hear that. “Thank you.”
Stringer gave her a reassuring smile. “We will keep you safe until the prime minister has an opportunity to hear you. His schedule is busy. He might be able to squeeze you in for a brief meeting in a few hours or it could be three days. I don’t set his schedule, only head the forces that keep him from harm’s way.”
Rain nodded in understanding and then he gestured for her to turn to their left at the intersection of the next hallway. The floors were marble now, and there were large paintings on the walls, as well as ornate chandeliers on the ceiling. A large open space with a pair of elegant stairwells off to her left made her think whatever was above them here must involve the prime minister’s family.
Stringer led her past the stairwells down the wider hall, past three numbered doors to one labeled 115. “Here we are,” he said, turning the unlocked knob. The door opened to reveal a room much like the hotel rooms Rain had stayed in. One large bed, a sitting area, and a television were visible. In the back corner, she saw a door she assumed led to a restroom. The accommodations were nice. The bedding was the same shades of red and gold she’d seen in the other hallway, as were the cushions on the furniture and the carpet. There were no windows, but the overhead light made the room seem welcoming.
Rain walked inside, not sure what to think of any of this. Stringer stepped in behind her, over to a wardrobe. “Your belongings are in here. We’ve provided you with some alternate clothing we think should fit as well. Your weapons have been confiscated, of course, but those may be returned pending your discussion with the prime minister. If you require anything to eat or drink, simply dial zero on the phone,” he gestured to a device on the nightstand that Rain recognized from the first hotel room. She nodded, not sure she remembered how Seth had said to use it but thinking she could figure it out. “
Your friends are assigned to nearby rooms. They may all be assembled in one at this moment. We don’t mind the five of you getting together, but please don’t leave this wing. Security is everywhere. Cameras are everywhere. We believe that you have come here in peace and are requesting assistance, so we don’t feel that it is necessary to keep you under armed guard, so please don’t do anything to make us change our minds.”
Rain nodded. “Thank you, Sgt. Stringer.”
He smiled warmly at her and crossed back to the door, pausing to rest his hand on her shoulder. “From what I’ve heard, you are a very brave girl, Rain. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She had no idea what he’d heard, but she appreciated the compliment, even though she still didn’t feel like she’d done anything particularly courageous. It was simpler just to say, “Thank you,” than explain all of that.
Sgt. Stringer left, leaving the door open behind him. Rain listened to the sound of his footsteps echoing down the hallway before she exhaled loudly and stepped out into the hall to find her friends.
It didn’t take long. While the doors were thick, their voices carried down the hallway, and she was able to follow the sound to a room two down from her own, 111. She knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer it.
When Adam’s face appeared in the crack in the door, she didn’t wait for him to pull it all the way open before she launched herself into his arms. It took him a moment to react, but when he wrapped her up in a warm embrace, Rain had a feeling everything was going to be okay--eventually.