Pangaea by Annie Partridge

Author:Annie Partridge [Partridge, Annie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-02-18T22:00:00+00:00

8.

Drusilla is not human, Clara.

The words relentlessly echoed through Clara’s thoughts.

Over and again, over and again.

No matter how she tried to silence the memory, the louder and sharper it grew, until it seemed that Bertie was again in front of her, prepared to reveal the truth about Dr. Lucusta. But as soon as Bertie had spoken those first cryptic words, the woman with the stick had suddenly come upon them, demanding to know what they were discussing. Bertie did not speak again all that evening.

So Clara was left to decipher the phrase on her own: Drusilla is not human. Such insults were familiar to Clara; she had often heard people call each other “monster” or “inhuman,” but something about Bertie’s words was much more disturbing.

Yet Clara could not explain why.

~

“Timmy was last seen in front of the school,” the policeman explained to Lucy. “He used to walk along the sidewalk to the bus stop, but in recent months he’s been taking the shortcut through the woods. He came down this trail, but he never reached the bus stop.”

Lucy glanced at the trail, just behind the bus stop booth. The trail began at an opening in the woods, and ended somewhere on the other side. There were plenty of bushes and trees where someone could have hidden and waited. She turned to the left of the bus stop, where the river flowed. Just across the water lay the Pangaean territory, crowded with hundreds of tower blocks.

“There are no footprints, except for Timmy’s shoes,” the policeman continued. “The kidnapper must have only been wearing socks. And there were no reports of a car parked nearby for any period of time; we have no idea where they might have gone.”

“Have any other children gone missing from this area?” Lucy asked.

“Yes. One other—another boy. Brian…something…oh, I don’t recall his last name. But he went missing forty years ago.”

Brian. Lucy instantly recognized the name from the MISSING poster, still taped to the wall of the subway car she used to ride. “Are there any similarities in the two incidents?” she asked aloud.

“I don’t know,” the policeman shrugged. “I haven’t read enough on Brian’s file. That case has been closed for decades now; he was listed as a runaway.”

The two cases were likely unrelated. But Lucy was not trying to find a connection between the kidnappings. She was thinking of Brian’s family, and how much suffering and pain they had endured all these years; some of the relatives were likely deceased by now. And every time another child went missing, it would be yet another Brian…another family left to suffer…another unknown fate. Other people would be concerned, for a little while: “sending thoughts and prayers,” and watching in horror as the media retold the story week after week. But then the thrill would fade; people would forget it ever happened.

But after it happens to you, you don’t forget, Lucy thought. You can’t forget.

“I need to know that other victim’s name,” she said.

“You mean that Brian kid? You can’t possibly think these two cases are related! They’re decades apart!”

“I know.

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