The Trap Door Read online

  Sera grimaced. “We’ll see them again. We’ll figure it out. We have to.”

  “At least they’re alive.”

  Sera put on a brave smile. “Right. Exactly. At least you know that much.” She swallowed hard and told herself her watery eyes were from the wind.

  “I sure hope Riq’s okay,” Dak said. “He’s not going to be safe anywhere during this entire Break. At least when I was on the Viking ship I didn’t look like a slave.” He drew the heel of his boot along the crack in the planked flooring. “This whole time period really stinks, you know? I just never thought about it like this before. I wish we could fix it all.” He held up his hand before Sera could butt in. “I know, I know. We can’t. We can only, you know, remove the boulder in the river so the stream flows the way it’s supposed to. Or whatever mumbo jumbo poetry you turned the explanation into the other day.”

  “For the love of mincemeat,” Sera muttered. “You know how to ruin a moment, don’t you?” She ventured out of the cabin and peered around at the sailors working all around. “I think it’s probably safe to wander,” she said. “Nobody’s going to stow away now.”

  Just then, a beeping sound came from one of Dak’s pockets.

  “Is that the SQuare?” asked Sera.

  “Um . . . ,” said Dak. He dug around in his coat until he finally produced a small electronic device. “I guess my battery is dying.”

  Sera couldn’t believe her eyes. “You’ve had your cell phone with you this entire time?” she hissed.

  Dak looked bashful. “I thought it might come in handy eventually. Like, what if my parents tried to call? But so far we haven’t been anywhere with reception.”

  “Gee, I can’t believe you couldn’t get a signal in 885 when you’d been abducted by Vikings. That would have been handy.” She took the phone from him. “Although, I might be able to use it for spare parts.”

  “Don’t you dare!” Dak said.

  They heard footsteps and looked up to see Gamaliel approaching. Sera shoved the phone in her pocket. “How are you two?” he asked. “I wish I could show you the beautiful forest landscape here, but alas, it’s all covered by darkness.” He smiled. “I know you’re worried, but take heart. Annapolis isn’t far. Captain Grunder said we’re making excellent time. The wind is with us.”

  “And so are we,” came a menacing voice from behind them. Gamaliel and the kids whirled around. The faces of the two Time Wardens loomed out of the darkness. “It seems you have a debt to pay. Our friend Mary sold a slave this morning. Either pay the money or produce the slave. Now.” The man sneered. “Or you might not live to see the future again, time travelers.”

  EVERYTHING FELT like a nightmare in slow motion. Riq saw it all, from John slipping and crashing into the oyster boat and unable to move, to Kessiah, holding the baby and helpless to act, to the boat’s captain, not willing or able to risk jail and a huge fine for helping a fugitive. Riq rushed to the edge of the water to see if he could toss the boy safely into the boat, but the wind caught the sail, pulling it away quickly, and there was no one on board who could catch him. He couldn’t risk it — what if he missed and James plunged into the dark sea? Riq could only hold the little boy tightly and turn to face the threat of three slave traders rushing at him at once.

  “Stop right there,” Riq growled, trying to sound tough. “I’m here with a whole squad of Hystorians. We know what you SQ are up to.”

  The men looked puzzled. “What’s an SQ?” one said. “Did he just call us a curse word?”

  Riq didn’t know whether he should be relieved or disappointed. He’d thought he was up against three sinister SQ agents. But they were only a bunch of jerks.

  He yelled out to Kessiah, “We’ll meet you there!” He hoped fiercely that she heard him —and trusted him. If she risked coming back, she might be captured for good.

  He zigzagged around the oyster piles and began doing soccer drills, stopping and turning just when the men thought they knew where he would be next. Ultimately, he decided his best option would be to head back into the woods, which he did.

  It was definitely harder to run with the extra forty pounds on his back after very little food and water all day, but the running helped poor little James forget about the traumatic scene he’d just witnessed. With the promise that he’d see his parents again soon, he began enjoying himself, laughing whenever Riq changed directions. “You’re my horse!” he cried, and Riq was actually sad he had to shush the boy.

  As he headed into the woods he went on his now familiar route, but when he caught a glimpse of the sky, he remembered the clue. With the men following him closely, he plunged farther into the dark woods, following the Drinking Gourd, in hopes he would eventually reach another port. The three money-hungry slave handlers stayed on his trail, wanting their cut of the sale that never went through. They may not have been with the SQ, but they were villains all the same.

  After an hour, Riq was near exhaustion, James was tired of being jostled, and the slave handlers had fallen far behind. Riq’s energy petered out, and then, to his chagrin, so did the land. He came to a point of land that was like the top of a rounded triangle, surrounded by water on two sides with the threat of slave catchers on the third. He could go no farther north. As the moon rose, and with the clearing over the water, he could finally see that he was stranded, stuck on the wrong side of the Choptank River where it led into the Chesapeake Bay. His only options were to turn back into the arms of the slavers or to try to hitch a ride from a passing boat, not knowing who, if anyone, out there could be trusted.

  Maybe it was because someone else’s life depended on him, and maybe because the horrors of the day had finally caught up with him, and maybe it was the constant ache in his head — all the running wasn’t helping his broken nose feel better — but for the first time ever, Riq felt like being a Hystorian was truly going to be the end of him.

  “I want to get down. Where’s my mama?” James asked.

  “We’re going to meet her in Baltimore.”

  “Where’s Balto-more?”

  Riq looked out over the water. “Oh, it’s just on the other side of the water, up that way a bit,” he said. He smiled, trying to reassure the boy. “We’re just going to rest here for a little while.”

  He could see boats going by now and then: steamboats, canoes of various sizes — some even with sails — tugboats, and oyster boats like the one Kessiah and John were in. He strained his eyes on the off chance that they were there, looking for them, but he knew better. It was a huge river, and they’d be long gone by now. Riq doubted he and James had traveled more than a few miles, which accounted for a pretty short distance of the coastline.

  “Now,” he muttered. “Do we hide, or do we try to flag someone down?” He looked around the small clearing on the bank. There was a dead tree and some long grasses that were completely flattened, probably by the nor’easter that came through . . . but it seemed strange that the grass wasn’t flat everywhere.

  Then Riq heard a sound that emptied his head of all other thoughts. Howling, in the distance. He remembered what Kissy had said about being hunted. About the Bloodhound Law.

  Bloodhounds, he thought. They’re using dogs to track us. And there was no way he could outrun a dog.

  He looked around, panicked, worried that the men would come crashing into the clearing, and thinking that if they did, he’d have nowhere to go. He glanced up into the trees, wondering if they could climb one to hide. And then something caught his eye. Something, or someone, was already in the trees.

  RIQ LOOKED again to make sure he wasn’t just seeing a shadow. “Is someone up there?” he called softly. “Stay here,” he said to James, setting him on the ground. He ran to the tree and looked up.

  There in the branches were two crouched bodies, holding tightly to a small birch-bark canoe. Riq’s heart pounded. In the distance a dog howled. “Three slave handlers are chasing us,” he whispered to them. “Please . . . can you help us?”

&n
bsp; The two young men looked at each other, but they didn’t say anything.

  “Please,” Riq pleaded. “We don’t have anywhere else to go. We’re trapped. I can give you” — he looked around, realizing that even though he had a little money in his wallet, they might question a five-dollar bill with a picture of George McClellan on it many years before the man became president — “I’ll give you my coat,” he said. “Please.”

  The two spoke in soft tones for a moment, and then one hopped to the ground. The other balanced the canoe on a branch and then slowly pushed it so that it tipped down. The one on the ground reached for the point. Riq helped grab it and bring the canoe safely down. “Thank you,” he whispered. The other dropped to the ground, and wordlessly the three carried the canoe to the water.

  “Come on, James,” Riq said. His lungs swelled with the brisk air and the hope that they weren’t doomed after all, and this time James and his blanket made it safely into the canoe. There were no seats, only a few crossbars, so Riq deposited the boy on the floor, then he helped push off from the bank and jumped inside.

  Riq climbed to the front of the canoe to sit with James and grabbed a paddle. He was glad he didn’t have to steer and just happy to use his arms for once instead of running. The water parted before them. Within minutes the peaceful waves lulled young James to sleep.

  When they were out in the open water with no one nearby, Riq shifted, easing his body around to face the others without tipping them, and began rowing backward now. “Thank you,” he said quietly to the two, knowing his voice would travel over the water. “I’m Riq, this is James.” He set his paddle down and started taking off his coat as promised.

  “It’s all right. Keep it. You’re going to need that,” said the young man in the middle. His voice was suspiciously high-pitched.

  Riq raised an eyebrow and the young man in the middle took off his hat, revealing that he was actually a she. “My name is Anna. This is my husband, Ben.” She shifted her position. “We left from Norfolk but had to stop and take shelter when the nor’easter hit — it was too much for this little thing. We were stuck up in that tree for two days. Once the weather cleared this morning, we’ve been waiting for dark. We were just about to set off again when we heard you all crashing through the woods like a herd of cows.”

  Riq smiled. “I was getting pretty tired by the end. Thank you again for allowing us to join you. I don’t know what we would have done. Where are you headed?”

  The woman glanced back at her husband and he shrugged. “North,” he said. “But the canoe only takes us to the port where the tall houses meet the water. When we get there, we have to leave it at the wharf with a schooner called Chariot — the word looks like this.” Ben put his paddle down and pulled something from his pocket. He held out a wrinkled piece of paper with the word spelled out. “The captain will deliver the canoe back to Norfolk for the next folks. He’s a good man.”

  “Clearly,” Riq said, awe in his voice.

  “Our friends turned back because of the storm or there’d be no room for you,” Anna said.

  Riq nodded. “I’m feeling very lucky right about now,” he said.

  “We’re not there yet,” Ben said.

  They paddled in silence through the night, the moon lighting their way. Once they had the west bank of the Chesapeake Bay in view, they traveled north, following the star, on the lookout for a large deepwater naval port where the three- and four-story houses sprang up from the water.

  As Riq’s anxiety quelled and the rhythmic paddling calmed his mind, he looked down at James, who was curled in a ball at his feet. Poor Kessiah, he thought. She must be really upset wondering where her little boy could be. Riq stopped paddling to shed his coat, tucking it around the sleeping boy’s body. It reminded him of something a mom or dad would do — or a grandma, in his case. His parents never seemed to have time to think about Riq much at all.

  Absently, Riq ran his hand over the boy’s head, feeling the prickle of a recent haircut. James’s ear was cold, and Riq adjusted the coat to cover it. He found himself wondering if he’d ever find Kessiah. And if he didn’t, or if something unthinkable happened to her . . .

  “We’ll find your mom,” Riq said softly, and then he looked up, embarrassed. But the married couple hadn’t heard — they continued rowing tirelessly.

  Riq returned his paddle to the water as emotions tugged at him from all directions, threatening to strangle him. Because here he was, a Hystorian above all else, just like his parents. Noble. Brave. Always, always fighting and sacrificing to do what was best for the Hystorian quest. It was the only thing Riq knew how to do. It was in his blood! It was his destiny. Yet, right here in front of him, in a little heap at his feet, was one individual, one helpless child, whose life depended on Riq.

  Riq didn’t know what dangers and challenges awaited him in the hours and days ahead as he worked to fix this Break. But suddenly it felt like it didn’t matter as much. Because here was this boy who desperately needed Riq. And on the other side of the water was a mother who was counting on him.

  Riq’s objective had shifted. And while there was still no doubt he would sacrifice himself for the Hystorians, he knew that he would not — could not — sacrifice this boy’s safety for the good of the world.

  He frowned at the water. Had his parents ever made a choice like this?

  It was nearly dawn when they found the port exactly as described. “Annapolis Harbor,” Riq said. “The capital.” His hands were cold and his body ached. They glided through the marina, looking for the Chariot, making sure the coast was clear. When they located the schooner and all seemed well, they drew up alongside the dock. Riq climbed out, slipped on his coat, and lifted the sleeping James from the canoe. He held the boy close, wrapping the jacket around him. Ben and Anna got out, too, and pulled the craft out of the water, leaving it on the dock next to the larger vessel.

  With a handshake all around, they decided to go their separate ways, knowing that traveling together would only arouse more suspicion. But everyone hoped the cover of a larger city with a larger population of free blacks would allow them to blend in.

  As Ben and Anna turned to go, Riq hesitated and then stopped them. “By the way,” he said, “there’s been some trouble in the safe houses. I was captured from one by someone posing as a Quaker.” He looked at the ground, not wanting to give himself away, but wanting to protect his new friends. “If you can avoid the safe houses, you should.”

  Anna looked grateful. “Thank you,” she said.

  Ben smiled. “It is a sad thing, not knowing who to trust. But I’m glad we trusted you. You have made our burdens somewhat lighter this night.”

  “I feel the same way — trust me on that, too.” Riq pressed his lips together, gave them a firm nod and a final thank-you, and turned with James to walk along the river, leaving the couple in the shadow of the Chariot.

  Riq grew fearful that if he didn’t get some sleep and some food soon, he might collapse. Had it really been less than twenty-four hours since he ate fish and corn bread at the plantation? He carried the boy along the Severn River, past the Naval shipyard, to a road called King George Street that bridged the river. A sign pointed out the most amazing news of the mission so far for Riq: BALTIMORE, 25 MILES.

  “Twenty-five miles,” he mused. In the twenty-first century, it would take a half hour. Now? It might take all day if he had to walk. “Not fast enough,” he said under his breath. “We need to get there before something happens to your mama.”

  James was still asleep so he didn’t answer.

  Riq shivered in the cold and decided the only way to wake up was to keep walking. Nobody was about to offer them a ride. He thought about hiking through the woods, but he’d had enough of that in the dark — his body had been poked and scratched by enough sticks already. His feet were sore and he could feel blisters forming. He wasn’t going to go off-road until it was totally necessary. Maybe he wasn’t thinking right because of lack of food and slee
p, but he was about at the end of his wits. He started to jog and tried to look at the bright side. At least carrying a forty-pound kid around would add some muscle to Riq’s body. He should be in pretty great shape by the time they all returned home. . . .

  Assuming, of course, he still had a home once they got through this. He cradled James’s head on his shoulder and kept jogging toward Baltimore.

  They’d gone a short distance when they came upon a stagecoach in front of a building. Riq’s curiosity was piqued when he saw the side of the wagon. U.S. MAIL, it said. He stopped, stepping off to the side of the road and into the shadows of the trees, and watched as a man came out rolling a wooden cart that held a stack of crates. He loaded them into the wagon.

  When he returned the wooden cart to the building, Riq heard the man shout his thanks to the ones working inside. “Baltimore. Back by noon. Have the next load waiting,” he said. He walked back to the stagecoach, and as soon as he was out of sight, Riq made his move. He snuck up to the back of the wagon, set James inside, then, as the horses began to move, he climbed aboard and hid. Within five minutes, he had fallen fast asleep.

  THE TWO men shoved Gamaliel to the ground of the cabin. Dak saw Sera’s hand go to her belt to protect the Infinity Ring. They both took a few steps backward, but there was nowhere to go — and the men bearing down on them weren’t after Gamaliel, they were after them!

  “Time travelers? What are you talking about? And we don’t owe you a cent!” Dak said, trying his hardest to sound innocent while staring at what looked to be a saber, circa 1840, the point of which was approximately four inches from his nose. Was it wrong that he wanted to get an even closer look? Because if that was wrong, Dak didn’t want to be right.