An enormous crow burst from the wreckage with a scream as Ava approached. It flapped away angrily, circling once, before flying towards a nearby grove of trees and disappearing in the shadowy twilight. Ava didn't believe in ghosts, but she also hadn't believed her grandfather when he'd told her about that clock so long ago. And now here she was.
She reached forward to touch the cold metal hull, below where the front of the cockpit had been ripped away. The opening was too high for her to climb into, so she began to walk slowly along the length of hardened earth towards where the wing would have been. She could hear nothing but her own breath as she went; that, and the soft hiss of her hand sliding across the frozen skin of the great machine. The air had that same unnerving stillness as the attic from before, and yet the destruction here was anything sterile.
13. The Reminder.
Ava was starting to resent how many fields and brambles she'd been forced to march across at this point. At least before, she'd been left with the quiet of her own thoughts. But Charlie, as Abe's father finally had introduced himself, insisted that she'd need an assistant "on the outside," and he sent Abe north with her as well as two days' provisions in their packs. As there was no road to or from the crashed plane, there was no point in attempting it by car--and so, to Abe's apparent delight, they trudged.
She tried to tune out his chatter and let her mind drift to the last time she'd been in a place like this, before everything had happened. She realized with some pain but no surprise that it had been with Allie. Allie, the perpetual hippie, had insisted they find a "wild place" to celebrate the first day of spring. Of course, Ava refused to actually dance--she was annoyed at being pulled out of bed so early on a workday--but she went along anyway and waited patiently while her twin twirled it out of her system. And she'd bought them both coffee afterwards.
Ava rolled her eyes even now at the memory. It might have been better if they'd been in high school. Or even college. But no--they were a full twenty-eight years old at the time.
12. The Coordinates.
The coordinates weren't too far from where they stood, right there in the old man's study. "'Bout a day's walk north of here," the man confirmed. He looked, for the first time, perplexed. "Thought they mighta written more, though..." He flipped the parchment over, as if expecting there to be a hidden line of the odd language tucked into one of the folds.
Abe spoke up nervously. "A day's walk north? That'll be right near the old crashed plane." He glanced at Ava with a shudder. "That thing's haunted. We'll have to walk wide around it." Ava just glared at him. She wasn't sure she even believed the story this old man was spouting, but if he was right, she didn't plan on recruiting a sidekick.
The man slapped the parchment down. "Of course the plane's not haunted," he snapped. "Not in the sense you're thinking of, at least. And neither of you will be going around it." He caught Ava's eye, she knew, to try to make her nervous.
She returned his gaze without so much as a blink. "No?" she asked coolly.
He grinned. "Around it? Certainly not!" Abe's face lost several shades of color as he waited for his father to clarify: "You'll be going inside it."
11. The Crow.
"Broken?" she repeated. It had seemed to be ticking just fine when he'd held the watch out before. In fact, she could still hear it through the man's coat pocket.
A scratching noise from above them interrupted her thoughts. "Damn crows," the man growled. "They been pestering me for weeks. Knew you was coming, I'll warrant." Ava didn't know what to make of that.
He grinned. "Yes, it's broken, lass, that's why your granddad abandoned it in the first place. Made a right mess of things, he did. But," he added, holding out his hand expectantly, "if you allow me to translate that message you've got, we might be able to--finally--put it right." Ava glanced at Abe, who looked altogether flummoxed. Neither of them had mentioned the parchment, still folded tightly and hidden from sight in Ava's clenched fist.
10. The Study.
"What made you come back for it, anyhow?" the old man growled as he tucked the watch back into his waistcoat. He didn't wait for her to answer, but turned around and trundled into a back room, gesturing for Ava and Abe to follow.
Ava glanced at the younger man, who looked about as confused as she felt. "Come back?" she asked. "I've never been here before in my life." She tentatively followed him through the doorway, and was surprised by how dark the room was once Abe closed the door behind them. A single lamp glowed on the desk, and stacks of books and loose papers lined every corner.
The man laughed for the first time, a chuckle that startled his two companions. "Maybe you've never been here, missy, but we both know your family has. Your grandfather left this watch in that house to be forgotten--and for good reason, too! So why've you gone and ignored his wishes?" He glared at her again, waiting for her to answer--trying, she knew, to somehow intimidate her.
But she refused to be intimidated. "You shouldn't take things that aren't yours," she said coolly.
The man drew up a protective hand over the pocket where he'd tucked the watch. "And you should respect your elders." He turned around and picked up one of the leather tomes from the desk. "Besides," he said almost gleefully, "You won't want it now. It's not quite as...useful as it once was.