A Map of Days (Miss Peregrine's Peculiar Children, #4)(53)

H went on, twisting the end of his short beard between his fingers as he spoke. “There were twelve of us. We led normal lives, to all appearances. None of us lived in loops—that was a rule. A few of us had families, regular jobs. We met in secret and communicated in code. At first we just went after hollows, but when the ymbrynes had to go underground because the wights were picking off so many of them, we started doing the jobs they couldn’t do anymore.”

“Reaching uncontacted peculiar children,” said Emma. “Delivering them to safety.”

“You read the logbook.”

I nodded.

“It wasn’t easy. And we weren’t always successful. Now and then you get it wrong. One slips through the cracks.” He glanced out the window, feeling some old pain. “I carry those failures with me still.”

“Where are the others?” I asked. “The other ten members?”

“Some were killed in the line of duty. Some walked away. Couldn’t live the life anymore. The eighties were rough on all of us.”

“And Abe never replaced them?”

“It was hard to find people we could trust. The enemy was always trying to infiltrate us, crack open our secrets. We were a real thorn in their side, I’m proud to say. And the threat started to die down as the wights turned their focus back to Europe. They’d gotten pretty much what they wanted here, though thanks to us it cost them more than they’d bargained.” He looked down for a moment. “But maybe now there’s a new era dawning. I always hoped my phone would ring one day and it would be you.”

“You could’ve called me,” I said.

“I promised Abe I wouldn’t make first contact. Your grandpa, he didn’t want to push you into all this. He wanted it to be your choice. But I always had a feeling you’d come around, eventually.”

I looked at him. “You talk like we’ve met before.”

He winked at me. “Remember Mr. Anderson?”

“Oh my God. Yes! You gave me a big bag of saltwater taffy.”

“I think you were about eight, nine years old.” He grinned and shook his head. “Oh, that was a day. Abe never wanted any of us coming to his house—he was always so careful—but I wanted to meet this grandson he was so proud of. So I just showed up one afternoon, and you happened to be there. He was so mad you could’ve fried an egg on his forehead! It was worth it, though. And I could tell the minute I met you that you had the gift, too.”

“I always thought my grandfather and I were the only ones.”

“In our group, four of us could see hollows. It was only Abe and I who could control them to any degree. And you’re the only one I’ve ever heard of who’s been able to control more than one at a time.”

In the faraway distance I could hear sirens.

“So, have you got a job for us?” I said.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” He reached down beside him and placed two small packages on the table. They were each about the size of a paperback book, wrapped in plain brown paper. “I need you to deliver these. Unopened.”

I almost laughed. “That’s it?”

“Consider it part two of your job interview. Prove to me you can handle this, and I’ll give you a real mission.”

“We can handle it,” Emma said. “Have you any idea of the things we’ve done?”

“That was Europe, little lady. America’s a whole other kettle of fish.”

“I am many years your elder. And what an odd saying.”

“This is the way it’s got to be.”

“Fine,” I said. “So where do we take them?”

“Says right on the packages.”

Handwritten on one package were the words Flaming Man.

The other read Portal.

“I don’t get it,” I said.

“Here’s a little clue to get you started.” He lifted his glass and slid the paper place mat that was under it across the table. For as long as I’d been going there, the Mel-O-Dee’s place mats were printed with a cartoony map of Florida that had tourist attractions marked on them—but little else. No roads or highways, no small or medium-sized towns. The state’s capital was obscured completely by a drawing of an alligator sipping a cocktail. But the seriousness on H’s face as he slid this across the table made it seem like he’d just given us a map to buried treasure. He tapped the center of it, where his glass had left a wet ring around a place called Mermaid Fantasyland.

“When the packages have been delivered, I’ll be in touch. You have seventy-two hours.”

Emma was peering at the place mat in disbelief. “This is absurd. Give us a real map.”

“Nope,” he said. “If it fell into enemy hands, the whole jig would be up. And part of the job is finding things that aren’t easily found.” He tapped the water ring on the cartoon map again. The sirens were getting close now, and looky-loos were starting to congregate around the edges of the parking lot. “You didn’t touch your food.”

“I’m not hungry,” I said. “When a hollow’s this close, my stomach goes into knots.”

“Waste not, want not.” He cut a bite from my uneaten pie with his fork, popped it into his mouth, and stood up. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”