Chapter
One
Bethany
Colburn panted as she ran down the forest path away from the shore. Her heels
sank into the loose sand between the fallen gray leaf twigs, and her legs
burned from the weight of her boots. Ahead, a wisp of smoke rose from the
chimney of her family’s home. She was almost there. The cramp in her side
demanded she stop running, but shock compelled her forward.
As
she rounded the medical cottage and rushed toward the Colburn house, Connor
stepped out the back door. She nearly ran into him and sucked in a breath. “You
won’t believe what I saw at the shore! Come quickly!”
Connor
held up a hand, exuding the calm of a man used to her demonstrative
announcements. “Slow down. Take a deep breath. Okay?”
Bethany
hummed an exhalation and hoped that proved the composure he requested. “Okay,”
she replied, using his vernacular.
Connor
nodded. “What did you see?”
“Some
big metal thing from the outside world. I think it’s a machine. It’s not like
anything we have in the Land.”
“A
big metal thing? Does it look like the space debris we found last year?”
“No.”
She caught her breath, but her pulse was still pounding in her ears. “It’s old
and rusted.”
“Out
here?” Connor pointed east.
“No. Farther south—below the bluffs.”
“On the
shore?”
“Yes, well, in the shallow caves below the bluffs. I went down there at
low tide
because
I need potash to make the black glaze for all the orders I have at the pottery
yard, and I went farther back into the clefs of the rock than I normally go and
that’s where I saw it. It’s buried in the rock.” She bent to rub her aching
calf muscle. “It’s in the sediment beneath the bluffs.”
“An
old, rusted machine?”
“Yes,
and it has a window and I think I saw bones inside it. Most of it is buried in
the rock, but it’s huge whatever it is.”
“Keep
your voice down.” Connor patted the air as if that would allay her. “Show me
where it is, but be cool about it.”
“Cool?”
He
nodded then glanced at the road when a wagon passed by. After waving at the
driver, Connor put his hand on Bethany’s back and shepherded her toward the
path to the beach. “Stay calm so you don’t raise suspicion. If it’s been there
awhile, we aren’t in any danger. Right?”
“I
guess not.”
“Right,
so be cool.” He looked behind them as they stepped onto the path toward the
shore. “How far is it?”
“About
a mile.”
“A mile? What did you say you were doing down there?”
“I went at low
tide to the caves where Mrs. Vestal and I get the minerals we use in pottery
recipes, but the waves must have eroded more of the bluff since last time I was
there. I couldn’t find potash in our normal spot, so I went back into the caves
a bit and that’s when I saw it—”
“The
machine with a window and bones inside it?”
“Right.”
Bethany stayed on the hard packed sand as she and Connor walked along the shore
below the bluffs. The roar of the waves echoed off the rock, making it sound as
though the ocean were on both sides of her. With the tide still out, the
shallow caves and murky pools below the rocky cliff face made her feel small.
If they were trapped there when the tide came back in, they would be caught in
the current and swept out to sea— just like Luke and Walter had been. The
three-year-old memory made the skin along her spine crawl as she looked out at
the waves. “It won’t be long until the tide turns.”
Connor
glanced at her. “We’ll be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Bethany
mustered a grin, grateful for his reassurance. As she walked close to the
rocks, an eerie feeling made her belly sink. She wanted to turn back and run
home. Instead, she folded her arms over her chest and kept walking.
Connor’s
brow furrowed. “Are you all right?”
Bethany
couldn’t answer. She bent to pick up the pail and trowel she had dropped in her
panicked flight when she first saw the machine. Then she pointed at the dark
clef behind a section of coppery brown rock. “It’s in there.”
She
stayed back while Connor walked between the walls of jagged rock. He wiped away
sand, exposing more of the window and rusted metal. “Whoa!” He smiled as he
glanced back at her. “Yep, you found a skeleton.” He reached out for her
trowel. Gripping the tool with both hands, he scraped along the metal of the
machine. “This plane is called a Hellcat—”
“A
what?”
“No,
wait,” he retracted his assessment as he chipped away more flaky sediment.
“It’s a Wildcat. See the wing would have been up here—higher than the
Hellcat—but the wing is missing.”
“The
wing?” Bethany stepped closer. “That machine is an airplane?” “Yeah, it’s an old
fighter plane from the Second World War.”
“How many have there been?”
“World
Wars?”
“Yes.”
“Including
the current war—three. I taught about that in history last year, remember?” He
kicked sand away from the bottom of the airplane and pointed to a faded insignia
on the metal. “Looks like it was Royal Navy. What was a Martlet doing way out
here?” He curved his hand and peered through the window. “The pilot is still
wearing his helmet. Wow, look at those old gauges and the radio. He’s got a
portable transmitter in there. Man, I would love to know his story. What a
relic!” Connor’s voice was muffled against the glass. He pulled away. “Do you
want to take a look?”
“You
are enjoying this, aren’t you?”
