“I understand your feelings,” their father said. “You think I knowingly sent you into danger once, so what’s to stop me from doing it again? The problem is I can’t promise you I won’t do it again. I can only promise to be more upfront with you about what I know right now.”
Well, that was a change in policy. Generally, their father only told them what they had to know, and he waited until thelast minute to do it. That way the family couldn’t accidentally slip up and reveal they had pre-knowledge of an event. Charity understood the principle, but it was a hassle when she’d made plans on her day off, just to be woken up at the crack of dawn and told to spend the day harvesting tomatoes to avoid a freak hailstorm.
Her mother leaned toward them. “We’re going to show you the notebook.”
Charity’s gaze went to her brothers to see if they knew what their mother was talking about. Both looked equally confused.
“What notebook?” Charity asked.
Her father took a bite of his breakfast, a thick piece of bread spread with jam. “Your mother keeps track of all my visions. We’ve done our best to map them out so we know which ones we need to worry about next and so we don’t forget to do something important.” He nodded at her mother, and she pulled a small sketchbook from the food basket.
“Today, we’re showing them all to you,” her father said. “Some of the visions you already know about. Others you don’t. But this will assure you that we aren’t purposely keeping any dangerous situations from you.”
Her mother opened the sketchbook. She’d made sections across the pages like a datebook. A color-coded list on one side detailed the visions. Large spaces separated each of the sections so more writing could be added.
She handed the notebook to Milo first. Apparently, in this situation, it paid to be the sullen, angry child. Charity scooted closer and peered over his shoulder to read.
Some predictions were written off to the side, showing her father hadn’t known the date but knew the general point on the timeline. Some had question marks as to where they fit in the timeline. A few that had already been crossed off dealt with New Salem, where their grandmother and uncle’s family lived. Onevision was just a number. At some point, Milo needed to switch vehicles with Charity.
The vision of the matches was the last one crossed off the list. Charity gulped when she saw the one that followed.
Charity’s husband comes to the co-op.
It could still be months away or only days.
After that, the visions said the group should carry extra water bottles. No explanation. The following entry was:Take the newlyweds to the cabin for two weeks.
Charity had known about that prediction for several months. Her father had seen a vision of himself and Charity’s mother driving in their van. Her mother turned in her seat to speak to people in the back—presumably Charity and her husband. She said, “It’s time to drop the newlyweds off at the cabin for a couple of weeks.”
The fact that Charity’s honeymoon made the list of predictions was odd in and of itself. Why was knowing about something that most couples did important enough to merit a vision? Zia hadn’t been mentioned in any of her father’s predictions, let alone her and Milo’s honeymoon plans.
Although, perhaps the time or the location was the key. Harvesters generally only took a week off, and most spent the time in a city, taking advantage of the amenities there—shopping, restaurants, and entertainment.
Charity’s father had bought an underground cabin in the woods to use as an occasional family retreat and also as a hideout, should they ever need one.
Seeing these predictions listed so soon on the timeline made her heart race. She’d daydreamed about meeting her husband for four years. It would happen soon.
Milo flipped the page, checking to see what was written there. “These are all the predictions?”
“All the ones to date,” her father said. “Sometimes I don’t get a vision until shortly before the event happens.”
Milo frowned. “How am I supposed to know whether any of these are dangerous or not? The prediction about the matches didn’t seem dangerous. We all figured Charity would wander off, get lost somewhere, and either need the matches to find her way home or start a fire.”
Charity dipped her chin. “You all thought I was going to get lost?”
Milo rolled his eyes. “You’re always wandering off when you shouldn’t.”
Not really. “Going outside for privacy to read is different than wandering off.” The bunkhouses weren’t big or well-lit.
“The point is,” her father said, interrupting the argument, “I don’t know when something is going to be dangerous. Or at least nothowdangerous. I figure the one where we’re all carrying extra water with us won’t be a fun day, but the predictions are to keep us out of harm’s way. As long as we follow them, we have the best chance of keeping safe. If I get a vision that tells me to walk through a burning building, I’m going to do it because it will work out for my good in the end.”
Gregor and Zia scooted closer to Milo to peer at the pages.
“How can you be sure about that?” Zia squinted at some of the writing. “You don’t know where these visions come from. All the psychics the government has executed—their predictions helped them do bad things. And in the end, the police captured them. Remember that one lady whose visions told her the location of someone’s jewel collection? Her predictions didn’t help her when she tried to sell the stuff. She fell right into the government’s trap.”
They all knew the story. The woman had been the first psychic caught three decades ago. A lot of news reports showed her being peacefully led away in handcuffs, looking ashamed.That was a better image for the Empowered Affairs Department than some of their captures—bullet-ridden bodies being dragged out of cars were less tasteful on the news.
Zia ran a finger along the list. “How do you know you can trust the visions not to lead you wrong? That first psychic’s visions told her to rob a place.”