Beatrix’s Downfall: Part 2: The Search Begins
by Holly Braendlein
“This is just what we need to find Derrick Falton,” croaked Borakai, as he watched his minions back on planet Zona handle a small flask of blue, sparkling liquid — the key to Beatrix’s ice powers.
“With this, we will be able to track Derrick,” he continued. “And then we will finally finish our mission.” He tipped his wrinkly, green head back and laughed cruelly, the sound resonating against the laboratory walls.
*
Frederick sat in a chair near the desk in Beatrix’s bedroom, watching her slumber peacefully. It had taken much persuasion and force to get her to retire to bed. Frederick had taken care of her wounds and had ordered her to sleep. Beatrix had shaken him off in a huff.
“I’m just fine, Frederick,” snapped Beatrix. “I need to find Derrick Falton. That’s what I should be doing right now, instead of wasting my time sleeping.” She stalked to her desk, but stumbled out of sheer exhaustion. Frederick rushed to her side and gently steered her to bed.
Frederick smiled to himself. Beatrix definitely had a stubborn streak. He watched as her chest rose and fell in the gentle rhythm of sleep. Bruises covered her body, but Fredrick knew she didn’t care. She strove to serve people, which meant that she often pushed her own needs into the closet, leaving Frederick in the position of caretaker on occasion.
He sighed. How were they going to find Derrick Falton? And who was he, anyway? He had been told that Beatrix’s family had died in a tragic accident of unknown origin, and Beatrix was the only Berry to survive. She had been raised by the village preacher, a kind old man by the name of John Alden. He had never been able to tell Beatrix the details of the accident, and why it had wiped out the entire Berry line save for Beatrix. Maybe they needed to start with him.
There was a rustle among the sheets, and Beatrix’s eyes fluttered open, blinking in confusion as she processed her whereabouts. She sat up and spotted Frederick by her desk.
“Frederick,” she said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Frederick tapped the desk meditatively with the tip of his finger.
“I think I know how to find Derrick Falton.”
*
The door opened to reveal John Alden in a plaid button-up shirt and a pair of jeans.
“Beatrix!” He exclaimed, wrapping her in a hug. “What a nice surprise! And Fredrick!”
“Thank you, Reverend John,” Beatrix said, entering his quaint little living room. Frederick followed right behind her.
John sat down in his favorite armchair and clasped his hands in his lap. “So, what can I do for you two? Unless this is just a friendly visit, in which case, I will brew some tea.” He looked pointedly at Beatrix. “But this isn’t just a friendly visit, is it?”
Beatrix chuckled uncomfortably. “Your telepathic abilities sometimes creep me out, Rev. John.” She sobered and said, “As a matter of fact, you’re right. We’re here for different matters entirely.
“What do you know about my family’s death?” She blurted out.
John blinked in surprise. “Well, that depends. Why? Has something come up?”
Beatrix related the events of the day before, from the pool party to the alien abduction.
“Apparently,” she went on. “I am not the only living Berry. I have a relative named Derrick Falton, who is wanted for stealing government secrets. Borakai will stop at nothing to get what he wants, which is why we are on a quest to go and search for Derrick before Borakai reaches him first.” She exhaled wearily as she finished her story and waited for John’s response.
John, who had been listening attentively to her story, took a breath and said, “I’ll tell you what I know of your parents, Beatrix, if that will help.
“Your parents, Jeremiah and Courtney, met at the very same high school you both are attending. They started courting right after they graduated, and about a year later, they were married. I officiated the ceremony, in fact. They stayed around here for about a year. Eventually, they felt called by God to go to Khotar. Their reasons were not related to me, but if the Lord called them, who was I to stand in their way?
“About a year into their stay in Khotar, I received a letter announcing the birth of their firstborn, Beatrix Louella Berry, and a photo insert of a small baby with shockingly red hair.”
Beatrix smiled and blushed.
“Letters were few and far between, but your mother always made sure to keep me up to date on their life in Khotar, although they never revealed what Jerry’s job was.
“Well, around year four, letters were getting shorter, and I would receive maybe one or two per year. Eventually, they stopped coming. The night of June eighteenth, 2008, I felt that something was not right. And then I got a visitor on my doorstep.
“A police officer stood there holding a bundle wrapped in a handmade quilt. All I was told was that there had been a tragic accident, and your parents were dead. You were the only survivor.
“So I took you in and raised you as I would my own child. That’s about all I know about the situation. Does that help?”
Beatrix, who had been sitting and listening attentively the entire time, nodded. “Thank you, Rev. John. I think I have all I need.” She stood up, kissed him on the cheek, and exited the house.
Frederick stood up and followed behind her, but was stopped by John at the front door.
“Do you know what you’re getting into?” John asked in low tones. “This is dangerous business, and I’m afraid of what she will uncover if she continues to dig up evidence about this Derrick person.”
“Don’t worry, Rev. John,” assured Frederick. “I promise to bring her back safely. You have my word.”
John placed a hand on his shoulder. “I would not want any other man to do what you’re doing for my little girl. Peace on your journey, Frederick.”
When Frederick reached Beatrix’s apartment on East Fonse Street, she was in the process of packing her blue duffel bag full of clothes.
“Whoa there, hold up, missy,” Frederick said. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Beatrix ran to her drawer to retrieve more garments. “What does it look like, Sherlock Holmes? I’m packing!”
“Packing for what?”
“Think, dimwit. I’m going to Khotar to search for Derrick Falton.”
Frederick walked and stepped in front of her bed, directly in the way. Beatrix stopped and frowned at him.
“What are you doing?” She asked irritably. “Get out of the way.”
“Not until you promise that you will consult with me before you do anything rash,” Frederick said defiantly.
Beatrix snorted. “What, are you afraid of missing out? I thought you were older and wiser than that.”
“I’m going with you,” declared Frederick.
Beatrix’s heart skipped a beat at his firm but protective voice and his piercing blue eyes. She stammered a reply. “S-sure. You can come.”
They packed together in silence, preparing for their perilous trip to Khotar and whatever dangers would follow.
*
A flash of light was all that was seen in the dry wasteland of Khotar. Presently, two figures stepped through, the dust and wind playing friskily with their hair.
Beatrix peered about at the wide expanse of barren desert. “So this is Khotar. Now what?”
Frederick looked at Beatrix in bewilderment. “I thought you were the one with the plan! Didn’t you gather any information about Khotar before we left?”
Beatrix shrugged her shoulders sheepishly. “I might’ve overlooked that small detail.”
Frederick lifted his hands in the air in exasperation. “And you thought you could do this mission alone. Geez! Now I’m really glad I came!”
Beatrix waved him off. “Let’s go and see if there is any civilization around here.”
They walked through the dust and rocks of Khotar, the air drying out their throats with every breath, and the dust gathering on their eyelashes as the wind swept over the barren horizon. Two hours passed before they spotted buildings in the distance, nestled near an outcropping of hills.
“Yes!” She exclaimed. “Finally! Civilization! I was getting tired of talking to myself.”
“What, and I’m nobody?” Frederick said indignantly. “Thanks a lot!”
When they neared the outskirts of the town, they grew silent as they surveyed the area. The clump of buildings that they had seen from a distance was merely piles of rubble, with only a couple of buildings standing intact. Crude playthings were scattered near the piles, as if dropped in haste, and leftover paper scraps blew across the road, taken up with the breeze. There was no sign of life anywhere.
Beatrix looked about incredulously. “What happened here? It’s not even a town. It’s a wasteland.”
Frederick walked up to one of the huge piles of rubble and peered at it, wiping his finger on the surface.
“It’s charred black,” he said. “I wonder how?”
Beatrix and Frederick walked around the desecrated town, inspecting ruins, kicking the dust for any junk, and peering into the few remaining buildings. They had reached the third building when they heard a frantic scuffling noise from inside the empty building.
Both Beatrix and Frederick froze, listening intently. Beatrix looked at Frederick and beckoned for him to follow. They walked inside.
Accompanying the scuffling came whispered mutterings. Both friends dove behind a nearby crate. Beatrix pulled out the pistol from her holster, silently counted to three, and jumped out of hiding, with Frederick right behind her.
The person they saw turned in alarm and quickly pulled out a bottle of water from his pocket. His palms glowed red. He squeezed the bottle, sending the water at his opponents’ faces. The water scalded their skin. Beatrix yelped in pain as she clutched her face, and Frederick jumped back, slapping his own face.
As the stranger darted away, Frederick quickly opened a portal in front of the retreating figure. The stranger was redirected into Frederick’s firm grasp and deftly knocked to the ground with a swift punch.
Beatrix, who had recovered herself somewhat, whipped her head around to stare down at the figure.
“What was that for?” she shouted, but stopped just as abruptly.
He was unshaven and dirty. He had curly brown hair that reached past his ears, and he sported a handy utility belt along with his vest and jeans.
“Derrick?” Beatrix whispered incredulously. “Derrick Falton?”
The stranger stared at her. “Yes. How d-did you know my name?”
“I’m Beatrix,” she said. “Beatrix Berry.”
Derrick struggled to stand up. “Courtney’s daughter?”
Beatrix nodded. “How are we related?”
“I’m your mother’s brother,” Derrick answered. “Your uncle.”
Beatrix snorted. “Some uncle. I hear you’re a wanted man.”
Derrick frowned. “How did you know that?”
“I met Borakai,” she said. “He doesn’t seem pleased that you got away.”
“You ran into Borakai?” Derrick said in panic, reaching towards her. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
Beatrix stepped back, avoiding his touch. “Did they hurt me? Well, come to think of it, yes. Yes, they did hurt me.” She raised her voice. “In fact, because of you, they took my powers!”
Frederick stepped in, holding his hands up. “Whoa, time out,” he said. “We all just met. Let’s calm down and talk this out, alright?”
Derrick suggested they take it outside. They followed him toward one of the many piles of charred rubble, where he had set up a makeshift picnic table out of leftover pieces of wood.
Derrick cleared his throat nervously. “I-I’m sorry you had to suffer on my account. Truly, I didn’t mean for anyone else to get hurt. Not again.” He buried his head in his hands.
Beatrix peered at him suspiciously. “What do you mean, ‘not again’?”
Derrick sighed wearily and lifted his head up.
“I’m the reason your parents are dead.”
To be continued …
About the Author
Holly Braendlein is an 18-year-old daughter of the King who lives in Kent, WA. In addition to having several health conditions, she loves to sew, write, do dance workouts, research her family history, and goof off with her siblings. You’ll find her other Beatrix stories on Pure in Heart, or her articles on Reformed Perspective.
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