Rundimahair: A new hero for a new adventure Larry Forkner (best ereader for pc TXT) 📖

She’d have them continue to search Idaho for other signs that Eamon’s people–or anyone like them–were in Idaho. If they could find even one disgruntled follower who’d left Rundimahair, they could extract the location from them by any means necessary.

The problem was, they weren’t finding anyone or anything. Not only was Idaho a dead end, Oregon and Washington gave up no leads at all.

When Grainne became too frustrated with the slow progress, she had to stop and remind herself of what happened in central Oregon. There was no doubt that Ashling, Eamon and their new wonder-kid, had been there.

It was possible they’d passed through time and space from somewhere far away. Grainne’s gut feeling didn’t buy it. She’d let some of her people follow up in Washington and Idaho, but she was using her best trackers in Oregon.

“We’ve got something in Idaho near the border of Utah!” one of her trackers shouted as she interrupted her musings by rushing into Grainne’s office.

Normally, Grainne would have punished a tracker who dared enter her private office without permission. But the young woman’s excitement was contagious, so she let it pass. “What have you got?” Grainne asked calmly.

“Someone connected to one of the families in Idaho is currently living in Utah.”

“You have an address?” Grainne asked.

“Yes and no,” the young woman said.

Grainne gave her a hard, impatient look and the tracker hurried to add, “It’s not a street address, but we know where he is.”

When the tracker paused again, Grainne seemed to flash across the room in a second. She pushed the terrified tracker up against the wall with her hand wrapped around her slender throat. She squeezed hard until the tracker’s face began to turn beat red, while she gasped for air.

“When you bring a report to me, I expect it to be delivered quickly and completely, in clear, concise language,” Grainne whispered in her ear. “You think you can do that?”

The terrified tracker began nodding her head vigorously. She knew she was seconds away from death if Grainne didn’t release her strangle hold.

“Where is he?” Grainne asked quietly, as she released her death grip on the woman’s throat.

“In jail, he’s in the county jail!” the tracker managed to squeak, while gulping air into her lungs.

Grainne suddenly lashed out and struck the tracker hard in the temple. She collapsed in a heap. She was still breathing, but she’d wake up with a terrible headache.

“I’ll handle this one myself,” she said softly to the unconscious woman. “You stay here and rest.”

Grainne noticed that the others currently working in the command center were keeping their heads down and focusing on the computer screen in front of them. She could sense their fear and unease, which was all right with her. It was good for her worker bees to stay motivated to do their best.

She made a showy display of standing up and extending her arms to the ceiling. Dark gray mist began to circle into the air around her until she was completely enveloped.

The clouds began to circle around her, slowly at first, then quickly gathering speed. Seconds later, the swirling mist slowed and finally dissipated completely. Grainne was no longer in her office.

While she streaked through time and space, she knew her sudden departure had been unnecessarily dramatic. She could have easily just disappeared in the blink of an eye, but she enjoyed being a little showy at times. Besides, it helped remind her subjects who was in charge.

Less than two minutes after she left her office, Grainne suddenly appeared in front of an occupied cell in a somewhat rundown jail in rural Idaho. The two officers on duty were momentarily stunned to see a beautiful woman appear inside their jail. Finally they leapt to their feet and reached for their pistols.

Grainne turned to them and said in a soft, pleasing voice, “Relax boys. Everything is going to be fine. In fact, you haven’t felt this calm and peaceful in your entire lives. Why don’t you both sit down in your comfortable chairs and lay your weary heads on the desk?”

She watched as a confused expression crossed the faces of the two deputies. Slowly, they began to relax and take their hands away from their pistols. They still had a slightly confused look on their faces, but it finally evolved into weary smiles.

They began to yawn as they sat in their chairs and rested their heads on their desks. Within a few seconds they were both in a deep, contented sleep.

Grainne smiled as she turned to the old man sitting on the small bed in his cell. “Sorry to arrive unannounced,” she said calmly. “I didn’t have your cell phone number to call ahead.”

“Not to worry,” the old timer said as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “It’s not like I don’t know who you are.”

“And who am I?” she asked.

“Anyone who ever lived in Rundimahair, knows very well who you are. You’re the one and only Grainne,” he said, smiling.

She nodded slightly and asked, “You know my name, so it’s only fair that I know yours.”

“I’ve gone by many names in my long life. Since I left Rundimahair, I’ve mostly gone by the name of Milton–Milt for short.”

Grainne felt a thrill of expectation since the old man had twice mentioned he’d lived in Rundimahair. She forced herself to remain calm, as she said, “I’ve been looking for you for a long, long time.”

“Well, maybe not me exactly,” Milt said. “But I reckon you’ve been hot on the trail of my people for hundreds of years.”

She was slightly puzzled by his calm demeanor and decided it might be because he was a rebel to his own people. Maybe he didn’t care what happened to them anymore.

“I’m hoping you can help me with a project I’m working on,” she said.

“I figured that’s what you had in mind,” he said as his smile slowly disappeared. “I reckon you know that me and my family and friends are deserters