41
Caleb’s bond with his unseen allies grew steadily after he left the lawyer’s office. He started back toward the hotel, only to be turned around by a distinct impression that his aim was off.
The sleepless night had left him disoriented, as if his feet had trouble connecting to the wet sidewalk. A light rain still fell, the droplets so fine they drifted in the air before his face. The wind had died while he was inside with Hamlin. The drifting mist clung to every surface. Caleb smelled fresh-baked bread and grilling meat from some nearby restaurant. He breathed in and out, hunting. He sensed a delicate presence, one he could not name. Not Maddie. Of that he was certain. Someone else.
Caleb stepped back until he met the office building’s stone facade. The thoroughfare was busy at midmorning with any number of vehicles, mostly horse drawn but some motorized. Pedestrians passed him with faces shielded by umbrellas or slickers. No one paid any mind to the young man idling by the building’s front steps, becoming drenched in the drifting rain.
Then Caleb’s vague sensations coagulated. The grey light and the mist grew denser, more defined. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as a shadow took form in the rain, standing there directly in front of his face. It was indistinct at first but gradually took on form and clarity.
Caleb asked, “Who are you?”
Kevin and his team were scarcely a mile inside the Atlanta boundary fence, going extremely slow as a bevy of farm wagons and herds of cattle blocked all but one lane of the road. No one else seemed the least bit interested in hurrying anywhere. They joined a long line of vehicles threading their way through the rain-swept havoc that framed the city’s main produce market. They could hear the cries of animals and the shouts of drovers and the calls of merchants over the engine’s constant growl.
Finally they were past and just beginning to accelerate. Kevin had no idea where they were going, only that soon they would need to dump the truck and continue on foot. But where?
As he leaned down to ask Pablo that very question, Irene shrilled, “Stop!”
Pablo hit the brakes so hard they all tumbled about. Behind them, a wagon driver shouted angrily. Pablo restarted the engine and pulled to one side of the road. “What just happened?”
Kevin pulled himself up from the jumble of packs and bodies and stared down at Irene. She appeared unaware that she lay sprawled atop Forrest.
Kevin offered her a hand up, but she did not seem capable of seeing, though her eyes were round and staring. He reached down and, with Forrest’s help, levered her to a sitting position on the bench. Irene gave no sign she even noticed. She stared blindly at the canvas top. Pablo cut the engine. The only sound was the soft patter of rain and the swish of traffic beyond their vehicle.
Irene continued to search with sightless eyes, then she called softly, “Caleb?”