Chapter 23

Inclar’s body looked decidedly the worse for wear. I jiggled his leg with my foot and found it stiff with rigor mortis, but that’s as far as I was willing to go to check out his condition. Luckily, the latrine was just beyond him, because three seconds later I lost the potato I’d eaten and all the vegetables from the field. Heaving over the pit, I tried not to pass out from the pain the action caused in my ribs.

“Inclar was out there,” Marcie said once my heaving had ceased. She sounded lucid again, and her high, thin voice carried easily in the small space. “He called to me through the door. Said he wanted to let me out, but he’d given someone else the key, and he’d have to come back. I was afraid to answer at first, but then I did. After that Dar came, and they were arguing.”

“About what?” Gabe asked.

“About me, about what really happened to his wife. Inclar was going to turn himself in, lead the police here, ask some psychic to read the chain that strangled Sarah. He ran away, and Dar went after him. They brought him back a few hours later. At first I thought he was unconscious, but he wasn’t breathing.”

She’d had to spend the night and day alone in a tomb-like pit with a dead man. Marcie was quiet again, clutching her blanket baby and pushing her face into Harmony’s shoulder like a frightened child. Harmony rocked her gently.

“I think he died from a blow to the back of the head.” Gabe stood after his perusal of the dead man, his face tight. “Look here.” He pointed to a place where the chicken wire had run out along the wall and the builders had instead tied wires to span the gap between the beams. “Some of these will be easy to undo, and we can stretch out the others with this two-by-four. We’ll have to move the body first to get to it.”

The body. It was sad to see a man so reduced to such a description. Tears ran down my cheeks. What a waste! Inclar should be with his beloved Sarah, both alive and in good health, and Marcie should be in the comforting arms of her brother. Inclar was beyond any help, but I’d darn well make sure Marcie had a chance.

A noise from the other room shattered the sudden silence. We froze for a precious half-second before we scrambled to the other room. Marcie moaned as we left, but we had to see what was happening.

Maybe Dar had come back to finish us off. “We may have to jump him,” I murmured.

Someone was already coming down the stairs, and my heart lightened when I saw by the thin light filtering in from several flashlights above that it was a woman. Spring, in fact.

We were saved!

She crouched suddenly, and the door behind her slammed shut, leaving us again in total darkness. “Autumn?” Spring called with a sob.

“I’m here,” I said. “Just come to the bottom. Carefully.” Harmony shone her light over the stairs and us so Spring could see where we were.

“I was trying to find you, and I couldn’t, and then I went to talk to Dar and he said you’d left. I couldn’t believe it. You wouldn’t have left without telling me.”

“Of course not.”

“I told him I was going to leave, too, to see a doctor about my allergies and talk to my mom. He said I couldn’t and that if I tried, he’d take Little Jim and hand him over to his father, and I’d never see him again.” She was crying in earnest now, and I had to go up a few steps to help her down, ducking my head so I wouldn’t hit the metal doors.

Spring latched onto me tightly, and I gasped with pain, but she was too upset to notice. “How could he take my baby?”

“Where’s Little Jim now?” We’d dropped the pretense of calling him Silverstar. Those days were over.

“He gave him to Misty, the girl from the kitchen.”

“Then he’ll be fine,” Harmony said. “Misty loves children. She’ll take good care of him. Now, let Autumn go before you break another of her ribs. We’ve got a plan. We’re going to dig our way out.”

“Maybe we should try the radio again,” I said. “My friend might have just been gone for a while.” Harmony eagerly handed over the batteries, but there was no answer.

“I don’t think the signal’s getting through,” Gabe said.

“We dig then.” Biting back bitter disappointment, I followed the others back to Marcie’s prison. Spring gasped to see her and began to worry again about Little Jim. Ignoring everyone, Gabe grabbed hold of Inclar’s feet and moved him to the other side of the latrine. I was glad he didn’t ask for help. I didn’t think I could bring myself to touch the rigid corpse again.

From Marcie’s supply basket, I removed one of the glass jars that had held water, hoping to use it to dig. The imprints came suddenly and unexpectedly—bright, terrible flashes of aching thirst and helplessness that seared me. Terror, need, want, loneliness. Oh, the soul-killing loneliness! With a cry, I let the bottle fall to the ground, where it clinked against another bottle, knocking it over and breaking it.

“What is it?” Harmony’s flashlight blinded me for an instant.

I shook my head, blinked back tears. “Maybe one of you can use the bottle. I can’t.”

Thankfully, Harmony didn’t question me but picked up an intact bottle and a large, knifelike piece of the broken one and strode toward the wall.

“We have to do this tonight while they’re sleeping at the farm,” Gabe said. “In the morning it might be too late.”

I wondered where Jake was and hoped he had the good sense to stay away from Dar. What if he hadn’t? What if Dar had killed Jake, as he’d killed his own brother?

I had to warn him. But before I could do that, we had to get free. I went to find a piece of wood.

Hours later, I sat down to rest a moment. My body was drenched in sweat, and my ribs were so numb with pain that I no longer felt them. I imagined a rib piercing a lung and killing me, the idea almost a welcome alternative. My hands were raw and bleeding from the tedious digging, my injured wrist throbbing and swollen, and I had numerous cuts up my arms. But staying busy kept the fear away. Fear of the cramped space, of the dark. Of Dar.

Gabe, Harmony, and Spring were equally bad off. Spring was taking a turn carving out the dirt, having managed to break a pointed piece of wood off one of the potato crates, and she worked with all the fierceness of a mother separated from her child.

Harmony had begun worrying aloud about her daughter as well, but each time Gabe comforted her. “It’s night. She’s in bed asleep. Probably with her friends. She’s fine.”

“What if we never get back?”

Harmony had voiced all our fears. If Dar continued as leader of Harmony Farm, he would use the people and discard them when he was finished. The children would be raised in strict obedience and worship of that evil man, brainwashed to do whatever he required of them. Memories of suicide pacts other cults had made haunted me, and I couldn’t stop thinking of poor Victoria/Misty, her longing for home, and the baby that swelled within her. The face of a victim.

“We’ll get out of here,” I said. “Sooner or later. My sister knows where I am, and her husband. And Jake.”

My words felt empty. No one had to say that we might not live long enough to see the farm freed of its tyrant.

Gabe picked up his piece of two-by-four, and Harmony went to check on Marcie. We were using Marcie’s dim lantern now to save our flashlight, which meant we worked almost completely in the dark.

“She’s got a fever,” Harmony told me. “She needs a doctor.”

“Her brother’s nearby somewhere. As soon as we’re out of here, he’ll take care of her.”

Harmony sighed. “I didn’t get to know her very well. I regret that now.” Her voice lowered to a soft whisper. “It was because she was so taken with Gabe, you know. I’ve been used to some of the men falling for me, and I knew that sometimes bugged Gabe. That and the silly things I sometimes do to tease him. But this was the first time I’d ever felt jealous of another woman. I was actually glad when Dar told me she’d left.”

“You don’t have to be jealous because of Gabe,” I said. “He adores you.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, for one thing, I’m not blind. But when I first met him and he shook my hand, I felt an imprint from his ring. If you could see yourself as he does, you’d have no doubts.”

She looked down, veiling her thoughts with her lashes. “Sometimes I worry that he’ll wake up and realize I’m not what he bargained for.”

“Oh, he’s probably already realized that, but he doesn’t care. He loves you just the way you are.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

“You’re welcome.”

Harmony stroked Marcie’s blonde hair. “I do seem to remember Marcie telling me that she and her family weren’t on good terms. That she joined us to get away.”

“Her husband and child died. Her brother thought she was okay, but apparently she wasn’t. He’s been searching for her for the past year.”

“That’s sweet.”

“I thought so, too.”

Harmony’s short laugh sounded out of place in our dank cell. “I think you like him.”

“I do. A lot.”

“What about Jake?”

I sighed. “Jake’s another story. I like him too much for my own good, but he treats me like a little sister.” Well, except for those two fabulous kisses.

“Not from what I’ve seen. You’d better look again.”

“Hey,” Gabe called. “We’ve reached some sand. It’s just pouring down. Come and help us clear it away.”

Spring was kneeling inside the hole we’d begun, her small body barely fitting, and she was shoving sand through the small space between her legs. We cleared with our hands as fast as she could get it out. When the vein of sand ended, we were back to digging, but Spring was able to crouch in the hole now.

Harmony shook her head when I offered to take another turn digging. “I’ll do it now. We’re close. No use in damaging your ribs or your wrist further.”

“Try to go straight up,” Gabe directed. “As soon as you clear out a little more, I’ll be able to fit in there.” He’d actually done most of the digging, his farm muscles more developed for the task, but lying half in and half out of the small hole hadn’t been easy.

After what seemed like an eternity, Harmony spoke. “The stick is through. We did it!”

“Shhh,” I cautioned. “Dar might have left a guard.”

“Let me try now.” Gabe traded places with Harmony. It was a tight squeeze for him, so he jumped back out and worked vigorously on the sides for a while before climbing back in. We all watched eagerly, except for the sleeping Marcie, as he scraped the ceiling, trying to widen the hole. “I need something to stand on,” he said. “Can’t get any leverage this way.”

Spring and I brought a crate. Standing on it, he dug for a while longer and then said, “I can see stars.” Finally, he threw down the two-by-four and jumped up. All we could see of him were his legs as he dangled in the crevasse we had excavated.

He was back in less than a minute. “I can’t see anyone out there. This part is in the clearing, though, so we’ll have to hurry. No way anyone will miss the hole as they head for the barn in the morning.”

Sore and bleeding, we emerged from the pit. Spring went first, and then Gabe lifted me up while Spring helped me through. My throat constricted in fear at the tight squeeze, but that discomfort was overridden by the pain flaring in my ribs. Blackness ate at the edges of my consciousness, but I managed to get through without passing out. Then Spring and I grabbed Marcie as she came hesitantly through the hole, supported entirely by Gabe from the other side. Harmony followed her, bringing the smelly blankets to protect Marcie from the night chill. Gabe climbed through last.

“Quick! Into the trees,” I urged.

Gabe carried Marcie, while the rest of us darted glances at the shadows.

“What do we do now?” Spring asked. “I want to get Little Jim.”

“We will,” I said. “But first let’s try the radio. My friend may have already contacted the police.”

I put in Harmony’s batteries again and turned on the radio. “Ethan, are you there?” I let the button go.

At her brother’s name, Marcie moaned, but she was burning with fever, and I wasn’t sure if she understood that she was almost saved.

Almost being the key word.

“Ethan, come in, please,” I said.

Nothing. My mind rapidly turned over the possibilities. Dar was armed, and we were far from civilization. Too far to walk anywhere. So unless we could steal a vehicle, we would be forced to deal with Dar ourselves.

“Ethan, so help me, I’m going to kill you!” I growled into the radio. Where could he be? Worry made me angry.

A crackle from the radio and then, “Autumn?”

“Yes!” He sounded odd to me. “Where have you been? Have you called the police?”

“Ethan’s not here. There’s no sign of him. This is Jake.”

Relief poured over me, turning my muscles weak. A tear of relief skidded down my left cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, but I’ve been looking for you all over. I followed when you left the square. Someone jumped me from behind, hit me with a club or something. I was out for a good while. What happened to you? Where’d you go?”

“Dar locked us in a cellar. Gabe and Harmony are with me. Spring, too.”

“Is everyone okay?”

“Yes. Well, mostly. We found Marcie. She needs a hospital. Any idea where Ethan might be?”

“Everything looks like it’s here in his van, but he’s gone, and so are all the keys. I’m trying to hot-wire my bike, but it’s harder than it looks. Plus, the muffler looks damaged. I guess he tried riding it. I just hope it still works.”

Even if we got Jake’s motorcycle working, we’d have to hide Marcie in a safe place until the police arrived. She was in no condition to ride on the bike. “Where’s Dar now?”

“Last I knew he was in the office with some of his men. I don’t know if they brought anyone else inside because I couldn’t watch both sides of the house. So I came looking for Ethan.”

“Something’s happened to him. He wouldn’t have up and left everything.”

“For once we’re in agreement. Look, I think I just about have this solved. Where are you?”

I let static fill the air as I looked at the others.

“Tell him we’ll meet him in the barn,” Harmony said. “It’s the closest shelter, and she needs to be made comfortable.” She stroked Marcie’s head.

I conveyed the message to Jake, and then we waited among the trees while Gabe went to make sure no one was in the barn.

“You realize it’s dangerous to stay there,” I said.

Harmony shrugged. “What else can we do?”

“I’m going to get my son.” Spring stood up, looking determined, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to change her mind.

“Wait,” I said. “Let Jake and me go with you. Besides, we need to figure out where Dar is. Maybe we can steal his phone or a car.”

“Maybe he’s already taken off.” Spring squatted back down near me.

“No way,” Harmony said. “He means to kill us all.” She was rubbing the scar on her jaw again.

“Your father did that?” I asked.

She took her hand away. “I was a teenager at the time. He was drunk. Gabe found me bleeding in the street, and we’ve been together ever since.”

“What happened to your father?”

“I never saw him again.”

“And Gabe?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did he ever see your father again?”

She stiffened. “Gabe didn’t do anything wrong. Now or then, if that’s what you’re implying. We didn’t intend for any of this to happen.” Though I couldn’t see her expression, there was anger in her voice.

“I believe that. But both you and Gabe have to share some responsibility.” I tried to keep my tone neutral, but it came out harsher than it might have had I not been beaten and thrown into a hole in the ground and left to die. I was exhausted both physically and mentally, my wrist ached, and my ribs burned fire so that every breath was a challenge. “Dar would never have been able to do any of this if your people had more say in running this place. If family visits were encouraged, if everyone received proper medical care and vacation time. If they didn’t have to work from sunup to sundown or fast just because someone new joins. That may help with crowd control, but I’m not sure it’s at all what you intended when you built this place.”

“We give them a home! We love them and take care of them! We give them everything they need.”

“Only if they stay forever, and that makes it no choice at all.” I set my hand on her shoulder. “Imagine—if people kept what was theirs before they joined. If they actually owned part of the farm or received some kind of wage for their work. You’re good at leading, you and Gabe both, and part of what you have created here is wonderful, but even in a family there has to be some recompense and agency.”

Her anger died in the face of my earnestness. “We do have a problem,” she admitted. “I know that. But you have to understand that it wasn’t always like this. Dar changed things. Slowly, so we didn’t realize how far we’d gone.”

The story of humanity, walking closer and closer to the edge until they don’t even realize when they fall.

Spring had been following the conversation, watching our faces intently, wiping her watery eyes on her sleeve. “I really loved it here,” she said softly, “but thinking that I was never going to see my mom again . . .” She didn’t finish.

Gabe was coming toward us now across the clearing, running. “It’s clear,” he said when he reached us.

He carried Marcie to the barn, and with effort we got her up the stairs to the loft. The loft was long and empty-looking, with only a few dozen bales of hay remaining. These stood to the left of the large sliding door at the far side of the barn loft, where I’d learned the men used winches to pull up the hay from outside. The few bales must mean the farm was nearly ready to harvest another crop of alfalfa. It also meant not enough coverage for a proper hiding place, but we settled Marcie behind them anyway, still wrapped in her smelly blankets and clutching her pretend baby.

All the time, I kept wondering where Jake was. If he had the motorcycle, he should have been here by now.

“Harmony,” Gabe said, “I think you should stay with Marcie. She shouldn’t be alone.”

Harmony nodded reluctantly. “What will you do?”

“We’ll check out the house and see what our options are. He can’t be everywhere at once. Don’t worry—we’ll be careful.” Gabe caught my eye. “We’d better go. Maybe your friend will meet us out in the trees. If not, Harmony can tell him where we went.”

As Spring and I climbed down the ladder, Harmony clung to Gabe, and he clung right back. “Be safe,” she whispered. “Please come back to me.” Caught up in a world all their own, they hugged and kissed.

I averted my gaze, a longing in my chest swelling to unmeasurable proportions. Ridiculous proportions.

I turned my mind back to the problem at hand. If Jake ever showed up, the wisest thing would be for him to drive the motorcycle into town. Well, a phone would be better, but unless Dar was a complete idiot, he was protecting his new satellite phone. Unfortunately, there were a lot of variables in my plan. Rome might not have a proper police force, or they might be under Dar’s control. If Jake had to drive to yet another city, that would leave Marcie and the rest of us at risk for far too long.

Besides, what about Spring and Gabe? Spring wasn’t about to leave her child behind, even to hide temporarily in the woods, and Gabe’s eyes shone with a vengeful glint I didn’t trust.

I joined Spring outside the barn, the clearing lit by the moon. The earth here was soft against my bare feet and still warm from the earlier sun, unlike in the trees where the earth had been cooler. My feet were the only things warm on me, though Spring, also in short sleeves, didn’t seem much bothered by the evening air.

Where are you, Jake? I thought. I was really beginning to worry now. If anything happened to him, I’d never forgive myself. I took as deep a breath as I could, my ribs aching.

“You okay?” Spring asked.

“I don’t know.”

She took a step toward me, reaching out her hand. Gently, she probed the area beneath my left breast. When I winced, she nodded and moved to the next rib. “I think only one is damaged,” she said at last. “Cracked, but not completely through. It’ll take four to six weeks to heal, and there’s really nothing you can do about it except to try not to hurt it again.”

“How do you know?”

She frowned, a forceful thing that seemed to be in lieu of tears. “I broke two ribs once.”

“You mean Jim broke them.”

She looked down and nodded. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to break all of Jim’s ribs.

“You’d make a good nurse or doctor,” I said. “You have a gentle touch.”

She smiled and opened her mouth to speak, but our attention was distracted by a moving light at the edge of the trees. Someone was standing there. Was it Dar? Fear shot through me, tingling to the tips of my fingers. I wanted to run back inside the barn and out one of the stall doors. Run forever so I could be safe. I reached out and grabbed Spring’s hand. I heard Gabe inside the barn, nearly to the door. I’d need to warn him before he was seen.

The figure stepped out and began running toward us. Immediately, I recognized Jake’s easy lope, and the fear turned to joy. I ran to meet him, stifling a cry of greeting in case our voices carried. He grasped me tightly, lifting me up in his arms, and all the happiness of seeing him turned into white-hot pain. “Put me down, Jake,” I said, gasping.

“What’s wrong. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“She’s got a broken rib.” Spring came up behind us with Gabe.

Jake scowled at me. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Trust him to spoil the moment.

“I didn’t know you were going to—” My voice choked and tears threatened. “Never mind.” But I didn’t need to say any more. He shoved his flashlight in my hands and once again the comforting memories of that night at the store appeared in my head, fainter than before but still present. Not my imagination. I smiled at him gratefully.

“What took you so long?” I said, regaining my voice. “Where’s the bike?”

“Had to cut the motor before I reached the main house. Ethan really did a number on the muffler when he drove it, and now it’s too loud. I ended up pushing it to those trees right in front of the house and left it there.” Under his breath he added, “Should have known a math teacher wouldn’t know beans about riding a motorcycle.”

“Come on,” Gabe said. “We shouldn’t stay here.” Yet as we hurried across the clearing toward the trees, he glanced back at the barn, as though he could see Harmony kneeling by Marcie in the loft. I knew where he really wanted to be, and the fact that he could leave her because of the responsibility he felt for the others at the farm made my opinion of him soar. On the other hand, given that glint in his eyes, he could simply be thirsty for revenge.

“So, what’s the plan?” I asked no one in particular.

“You and I will go for help,” Jake said. “The others should hide somewhere.”

“I want my son.” Spring’s voice was tense with stress.

“You go,” I told Jake. “I promised to help her.”

“I’m not leaving without you! Gabe can go with Spring.”

Gabe shook his head. “I’m going to find Dar. These are my people, and I have to protect them.”

Jake stopped moving, blocking our path. “Are you guys nuts? That madman tried to kill you! He still might.”

“I don’t care.” Spring pushed past him and strode into the forest.

Another thought occurred to me. “Jake, if Dar’s talking to someone in his office, maybe he’s got Ethan. We have to save him.”

“Isn’t that what the police are for?”

“Dar’s got a gun.”

“My point exactly.” He glared at me, his face barely discernible in the darkness under the trees. I wanted to put my arms around him and hold on with my eyes closed, forgetting any of this ever happened. But first I had to keep my promise to Spring.

“They’ve left,” I told Jake. Sure enough, Gabe had ignored our argument and hurried after Spring. My teeth clicked together with the words because I was seriously cold now, though the temperature didn’t seem as low as the night before.

Jake muttered something unintelligible as he peeled off his jacket and helped me into it. Then, avoiding my wrapped wrist, he put his hand under my elbow, and we hurried on through the trees. Jake picked the easiest path, careful of my ribs and my bare feet, though the pain in my ribs far outweighed any other discomfort. The warmth from his jacket had made my shivering stop, and I felt grateful for that. It was easier to think now.

We caught up to Gabe and Spring at the married housing, where they were peering around the corner. No one was in the square, but lights were coming from somewhere inside the main house, though not from any of the rooms whose windows faced the square. That meant perhaps the hallway or the main room or one of the offices. We couldn’t be sure exactly where.

“There’s a window to Dar’s office,” Gabe said. “We can go around and look in.”

“What good’s it going to do if we find him?” Jake said. “He’s got a gun, remember?”

“If I can get inside my office, I’ll have a gun, too.”

Jake started moving. “Okay. You women stay here. Keep an eye out.”

Spring shook her head. “I’m going after my son.” Before any of us could stop her, she was darting across the square. I started to go after her, but Jake grabbed my arm.

“Someone’s coming!” he gritted as I struggled to free myself.

Sure enough, the light on the back porch had come on.