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THE ENERGETIC STEPS had morphed into trudging. Forest highlights – a squirrel running up and down a tree trunk, a rabbit’s nose poking from its burrow, early spring bird songs as they twittered about the branches – had lost their appeal. Beau slept on Josh’s back, piggy-back style and Rachel pulled Kayli along by the hand, every step heavier laden than the one before.
Rachel tripped three times over Cole as he placed one foot in front of the other, careful to avoid protruding roots and overgrowing foliage.
She wanted to ask Josh all kinds of questions but the timing wasn’t right with the kids there and who knew where the thief had gone. Nerves scuttled along her skin at the idea the man could have gone to her place, could be going through their things or waited to ambush Rachel’s group. If Rachel had been alone, that’d be one thing, but with her three babies to guard over, she didn’t feel comfortable going home alone.
Thank heaven, Josh had volunteered to walk them back and check things out.
Humid heat sweltered around them. The sun worked its way through the spindly needles to the snow beneath and warmed the air. Maybe fresh air was overrated. Moss and dirt and some other unidentifiable scent filled her nostrils and what she really wanted was to smell the coconut candle she burned in her office at home. Or had burned. Whatever, fresh air sucked. Rachel kicked a rock and it skittered to rest against a fallen rotten log.
Josh stopped walking and held up his hand. “Do you hear that?”
Rachel tilted her head. Yeah, a faint putting like an engine in idle sounded from just over the next rise. She nodded and met his gaze. Whatever or whoever it was, the kids needed to be hidden. While Josh looked to the left, Rachel searched the right. She tugged on his sleeve and pointed at a rocky overhang past a copse of trees. The kids could rest there, if Josh moved some brush in front of the opening. No one would know the difference as long as they didn’t move.
Picking their way to the partial cave, Rachel whispered in Cole’s ear, “You need to make sure no one talks or comes out, okay? We will be right back to get you. Do you understand?” Her son, so adult yet so young, nodded, his expression grave.
Rachel transferred Beau from Josh’s back to Cole’s lap. The Currant bush offered a thick blind which Josh moved easily into position. Rachel waved her fingers at Kayli who hadn’t stopped staring at her mother since they’d reached the hiding spot. Rachel longed to whisper that she’d be right back and everything would be fine, but she couldn’t bring herself to offer what could possibly be false hope.
Moving faster without the children in tow, Josh and Rachel hiked to the trail and beyond to take the motorist by surprise. The familiar groan of the quad grew louder as they traveled parallel to the path. Rachel would recognize that motor anywhere. One didn’t ride for hours on a machine and not become intimate with the ticks and knocks of the engine. The faster, rounded out putt suggested the four-wheeler was in gear but not rolling. Were they being watched?
She shot a look around the forest. Nothing stood out. Oh, if only Andy were there, he’d grab her hand and hold on. No, wait, he would have made her stay with the kids. He had a protective side.
Rachel didn’t know Josh well enough to reach out and hang onto his hand for dear life. He’d probably spook, if she did that. And what man wouldn’t? She was now a single woman with three kids. That was worse than a ball and chain, it was more like a ball and dungeon. But still, the comfort of not feeling alone would be nice.
Shaking the longing for Andy’s companionship away, Rachel stopped beside Josh, aware of his proximity in inches not feet. She pulled a leaf out of her field of view. The quad sat no more than ten feet away, revving into a small Aspen sapling which held it in place. Slumped over the handlebars, the driver was either dead, passed out, inebriated or playing possum. Rachel didn’t care which one. She wanted her quad back and the risk eliminated.
Josh pressed on her shoulder with his hand and raised questioning eyebrows her way. Was he asking if it was okay for him to check it out? She nodded.
He slid from behind the bush and swiveled his head to encompass the area with his gaze. What would she do if he was attacked? Fight to free him of course, a small piece of her owed him something and Rachel didn’t know if she could abandon him. On the balls of her feet, ready to run or spring a counterattack, she allowed the shallowest of air to pass her lips. She pulled her gun and held it, ready to fire if the man became a threat.
Josh closed the distance to the quad. His gun appeared in his hand, like magic. One step, two... he looked around ready to flee the opposite direction. Three, four, five... he waited again, watching the prone man on the machine. Tossing another look around the clearing, six, seven and eight disappeared beneath him. A foot away from the man, Josh reached out and poked his shoulder with the barrel of his gun.
Nothing. Flesh barely recoiled back into position, wiggled like ill-made gelatin under the black and brown shirt. Josh pushed harder and the body gave in to the weight unanchored to the ATV, sliding to the ground in a graceless heap. An arm and leg overlapped and the head lay at an unnatural position.
Josh knelt down and felt for a pulse.
“There’s no way he’s alive.” Rachel left the confines of the brush. Relief relaxing her grip on the butt of the gun. “Looks like he smashed into something before driving. That little tree couldn’t have done this.”
Standing, Josh brushed his hands on his pants. “He could have fractured his neck in the crash but something completed the break. I’ve seen that before.” He glanced once more at the fallen man. “He doesn’t look Japanese, huh.” The blond hair was most likely accompanied by blue eyes which were hidden behind closed and swollen eyelids. His size was more German than Japanese.
Rachel nodded. Germany was supposed to be an ally. As was most of Europe. Russia didn’t count as an option since it had rolled into the USSR and what was left had become nothing more than a front for some people hoping to hold onto their patriotism. Great Britain? Australia? Who in their right mind would send a plane marked like Japanese property over the wilds of America? During an attack...
Having worked with Europeans, Rachel knew they had different values from Americans. They feared different things.
But did America have something foreigners feared enough to attack?
She didn’t know and at the moment she didn’t care. Rachel wanted her kids and to be in the relative safety of her new home. At that point, who could she trust? Maybe people of ethnicity, but how would she know who was American and who wasn’t before she shot them?
Alone in the cave, Cole, Kayli and Beau waited for her, probably worried. Spinning on her heel, the thick soles of her boots crunched like bone-on-bone with her weight, like the sounds the man’s neck would have made when it snapped. Goosebumps rose on her skin. There wasn’t a cool breeze to be had.
Getting to the overhang seemed to take forever and a day. She couldn’t get there fast enough. In reality, she hadn’t been gone more than a handful of minutes, but they dragged out longer than if she’d had her hand on a hot frying pan.
The sharp peaks of the leaves scratched her hands, pricking her fingertips as she shoved the bush away. She swallowed a flood of desperation before she smiled. “Okay, guys, let’s go. We got our quad back. You don’t have to walk anymore.” Relieving Cole of Beau’s weight, Rachel mommy-ducked the kids to the clearing. Before entering the circular opening of the path, Rachel stumbled.
She’d forgotten about the traumatizing effect a dead body would have on kids. Already she was desensitizing to the traumas in the world. It wouldn’t be healthy for the children to see the body, but the faster they got back to their place the better off they’d all be.
Rachel paused. What should she do? Kayli and Cole, directly behind her, couldn’t see anything. Rachel searched the area for the body. Nothing. No quad. No body. No Josh. What the heck was going on? Rachel slowed her hurried pace. “Should be there in a minute, guys.” If she scanned the area any faster, she’d be in danger of whiplash.
A soft whistle caught her attention. Josh waved toward him, nodding his head slightly in the direction of the bush where they’d hid before discovering the thief. He stood by the trailer of the quad.
Rachel searched his face as the kids climbed in the padded wagon. Josh didn’t look directly at her, but nodded his head. He’d dumped the body behind the brush. Well, at least her kids hadn’t seen it. He’d been thoughtful in that regard, discarding the dead. She wondered if he had experience doing that. If the situation hadn’t been so fresh, Rachel might have laughed. What electrical engineer had experience dealing with a situation like the one they’d crammed themselves into?
Most electrical engineers had glasses on their noses and a part down the center of their thinning hair. Josh was on the opposite scale with his muscular frame and tight jaw line. He looked like he’d be more comfortable wielding an axe than pushing buttons on a calculator.
Odd how they’d mashed together and synced so well. They almost completed each other’s tasks. She and Andy had taken nine years to get to that point.
~
THE WASHCLOTH HUNG limp beside the towels already clipped to the clothes line Andy had strung up the summer before. Losing herself in menial chores helped stave off the pain of grieving. She didn’t want to deal with it until things had settled down and they had more information which could be indefinitely. She was fine with that.
“Rachel!” Josh padded into her front yard, the hair on his forearms glinting in the sun.
Front yard had a nicer ring to it than clearing. She wasn’t camping for crying out loud. At least she was trying not to feel like she was. “Hey, Josh.” The next article was a pair of her panties. Uh, right. She shoved the lacy whites underneath the pile of pants and grabbed jeans. Reaching her arms up, she clipped the clothespin in place and glanced his way. Tension tightened the skin around his eyes. She dropped her hands. “What is it?”
Josh stopped in front of her and steadied his breathing. “Someone is at the dead end of the road. Every few minutes they call out your name.”
And that was not what she’d expected. “My name?” She glanced in the direction of the road. “What does that mean?”
“It means, if you don’t want them to start looking for you and maybe finding you, you might want to head out and meet them. I’ll stay with the kids.”
“What if they want to hurt me?” Rachel kicked the laundry basket. Of course, she’d go. She couldn’t risk the kids.
“If they want to hurt you, use that cannon you’ve got in your belt.” He arched his eyebrow.
Rachel’s laughter spilled from her mouth, not the first time she’d laughed in the last two days since returning from the plane site. Josh had shown up whenever he’d wanted and had stayed for a few meals. The kids had liked the stories of what their dad had been like young and single. Rachel had enjoyed his company, but found herself stopping what she was doing throughout the day and watching the doorway, looking for Andy. Or Josh. For some reason she was mixing them up.
Smoothing her hair with her fingers, Rachel didn’t know how to approach the stranger. Hostile? Hospitable? She settled on scoping out the situation first. Cole watched her from the window as she walked to the forest. Confidence for the kids on the outside, what-the-heck scrawling across her insides.
Each step was carefully placed. Turn here, twist there.
“Raaaachelllll!”
She jumped, ready to run back to her cabin. But the voice wasn’t threatening or even very old and had a tone she recognized from what seemed a lifetime ago.
She inched closer to the edge of the clearing. Green leaves covered her view of the exact center of the end of the road. Hunching under the low hanging bull pine branches, Rachel scratched the back of her neck.
Red abrasions covered his left arm and face. He wasn’t old enough to vote but to get all the way out there alone testified of his capabilities. He must have conquered his fears. She hadn’t seen him in a while.
Rachel didn’t move. Tom had made it that far, he could figure out what to do without her help. She’d never told him how to get to the cabin, or even that she had a place out in the forest. Three kids depended on her. Pulling a lost chick from the rubble might break her.
She’d almost convinced her heart not to care when the man-boy slumped to the ground and shoved his battered face in his hands. Sobs rolled over the matted grass and hard packed dirt, amplified by the startling quiet of the forest.
The memory of his first visit to her office crashed in around her. Pregnant with Beau, she hadn’t stood but called out for him to come in. A waif of a boy. She’d eyed the fast food bag on her desk, maternal instincts begging her to force him to eat her lunch. He’d sat in her chair, the cushy one Cole jumped in when he visited.
Something different about that boy. He’d been melancholy mixed with an aura of skittishness. Every move like a second thought. The boy-Tom had stared at the edge of her desk and he’d picked at a cuticle.
Rachel had flipped through his file. The fries had driven her nuts. He didn’t move a muscle but the finger picking, picking. Pick. Pick. “I have some fries here, would you like to help me eat them?”
The young face had crumpled, tears poured down his face. Fear. She recognized the emotion. She’d taught the emotion. Crying males had always been her downfall.
Tom had become a favorite. She’d cried when he no longer needed her services.
Despair and sniffles covered the sound of her cautious steps as she approached him. Mud and charcoal matted his hair into clumps. His shoulders would be broad once they filled out. Poor Tom was between gawky adolescence and masculine grace.
Rachel knelt beside him. “Tom. I’m here. What’s going on? How did you get here? Are you okay?”
He fell on his butt and scuttled backward a few yards. “Wha — Rachel? I – I mean, Dr. Parker. You look like... Brenda.” Tom hiccupped, his breath rushing in and out with each gasp.
What... “Brenda? When did you meet my sister?”
“Briefly. She didn’t make it. We were attacked. I don’t know if she’s still alive or what. They got Jenny, too.” His voice caught on the name and he dropped his head to his hand. “I have no idea how I made it without being captured, Dr. Parker.”
Rachel’s survival mode flashed her gaze around the clearing and down the road. Wind whispered to move and move fast. “Come on, we need to go.” She clutched the handle on his backpack and pulled at his bicep. He stumbled behind her, falling to the moss covered ground behind the protection of the bushes. Rachel clapped her hand over his mouth.
Alarm widened the boy’s eyes and he struggled with little effort. Rachel pressed her free finger against her lips. Turning from his stilled form, she watched the road, her hand still covering his mouth. What was it? Something... maybe she’d imagined the danger. But a tremor... something stirred in the air. Paranoia wouldn’t create the sensation, fear would, but...
A rumble answered her doubt, shaking the ground with large throaty vibrations. A black Hummer crawled into the small circle, minimizing the area further. The tank-like vehicle stopped where Rachel and the boy had sat moments before.
Tom whimpered against her hand. Real fear diminished him to the boy he’d been in her office. Dammit. Whatever was happening out there was tearing apart her children. And Tom was one of her “children”. She smoothed her hand across his brow and turned her attention to the clearing.
The afternoon sun failed to penetrate the dense leaves lining the periphery. A man stepped from the passenger seat dressed to match the imposing vehicle in sleek lines and crisp cuts. Kneeling, he fingered broken grass in a sea of crushed blades. His dark glasses, cliché with his dark suit, blond hair and government appearing HumVee, reflected the afternoon sun, hornet eyes searching for fresh meat. Like a cloud crossed before the sun, he’d dimmed the spring cheeriness of the woods.
Rachel strained her ears for any sound that would give away the location of her kids. Above all else, they had to be protected. Dang it, she’d been so stupid. She failed to learn. Somehow the men had found them. No one would chase a woman with a few kids. Tom might be the prey, but so young? How much damage could he do?
The man swooshed his arm to encompass the clearing and three clones with different hair colors poured from the vehicle with long electronic wands. Choreographed down to each step, the men peeled from each other to sweep the length of the wands up and down the wall of foliage. High pitched beeping shattered any remaining peaceful ambience the forest held.
Mouth close to the boy’s ear, Rachel whispered, “We need to move back about twenty feet. Those are Motion Sensor Prods, MSPs. They’ll be by us any second. Can you move?”
He nodded. She removed her hand from his mouth. Rachel couldn’t chance returning to the cabin.
Low to the ground, Rachel led the boy behind a large fallen log. The roots reached toward the sky as if salvation lay in the clouds. She clenched her fingers into the crumbling, rotting wood.
Slumped against the trunk, Tom didn’t try to see what was going on. Rachel had all but carried him and if it hadn’t been for the high screeching, their cover would be blown. If they swept over her spot and she moved even a fraction, the probes would combine her heat, motion and density with wind speed and, using an advanced logarithm, calculate the likelihood of her being human versus, well, not. She’d seen tests during a few site consultations the fall before Rhode Island. The MSPs had been amazing then, imagine what technological advances had been made in almost three years. Could it locate the motion of air now?
Unable to just sit there and not have an idea of what to expect, Rachel needed coverage. The two men closest to her position were sweeping fast and closing in on each other. They’d meet right at the spot she and Tom had darted through the leaves.
A sudden breeze pushed dangling roots across her hand. Of course. Rachel ducked behind the conglomeration of thick and thin roots decorating the end of the tree, higher and larger than the bushes she and Tom had hidden behind. Acting like the foliage around the perimeter, the roots were easy to catch glimpses through when you were close to them, see through the holes and spaces between, but put some distance between the eyes and the coverage and it was difficult to differentiate anything but the roots. The ultrasonic waves from the sweepers would be unable to filter past the varying lengths and sizes and would skim over the information.
Rachel breathed through her nose to direct her air down. From her mouth, the breathing might move the roots and she didn’t want to take the chance the movement would be picked up. Beep, beep, beep. Her heart pounded with the machines noise. She ignored the prostrate form beside her. He’d passed out.
Beep. Black boots moved closer. Feet, the only thing visible from under the bushes, combined with the image of the roots. Stepping in a weird two-step, down-up, down-up, nearer and nearer to Rachel. Down-up.
Movement distracted her from the approaching probes. Josh waved his arms fifty feet from her tree. What the crap? If he was here, where were her kids? She’d kill him – if he didn’t get trounced by the men in black. He pointed toward her, at the threats and in the direction of the house. What? She couldn’t move. The sweepers had reached her position. She froze. Shallow breaths. Short. If they didn’t find anyone, would they search deeper? Oh, hell, what if they found her?
The screeching stopped. “Nothing’s registering.” The faceless voice barked.
A voice further away, closer to the SUV snapped through the cover. “Are you sure he came this way? Nothing is on the maps.”
First voice, again, answered slower with hesitation. “No. I’m not.”
A plunk like a dart shot from a tube. In the clearing, the man to Rachel’s left fell to the ground. “Be certain.” Clipped words from the second voice plunged Rachel into an icy sweat. He’d killed his man. Because he wasn’t sure. Of all things holy, what had she gotten herself into? “You better be certain we get enough information from the people at the holding center.”
Clenching her eyes shut, Rachel shoved her hands over her ears. Wake up, you’re at home. Wake up, you’re at home. Nothing bad has happened. You’re going to the grocery store with the kids today. Andy’s beside you, holding your hand. The bed is soft and warm. What should you make for breakfast? Sausage, eggs, toast and hashbrowns. Lots of ketchup. Milk. Maybe orange juice. Do the laundry. Fold, put away. Help the kids clean their room. Andy and his projects.
Someone pulled her hand from her ear. She gasped, jerked from escape.
Josh gazed down at her. “They’re gone. We need to get back.”
Rachel nodded and stood. She wasn’t home. Andy wasn’t alive. Her kids needed her. But the imagery had allowed her a small break. Her psych degrees were more useful than she’d realized. And she’d found something to fear. Maybe she was human.
Tom flopped in Josh’s arms like a large ragdoll.
Josh sped through the forest away from the cabin. Around and around they went, stopping every three minutes or so to rest. Picking up on their mad dash into nowhere. After what seemed like years of maneuvering, they broke into the area from the north.
The setup from a different viewpoint surprised her. Everything was under cover of trees. She’d never noticed the clothing line had been strung up between two tall trees whose bows swept out to cover any clothing item she might hang. The raised gardens weren’t made from wood, which when she approached from the incline coming down into the clearing looked like mole hills and had a random appearance.
Part of the house incorporated a large evergreen as a cornerstone and from the higher angle, not a window or door could be seen. Andy’s brilliance at disguising the place captured Rachel’s breath. The grieving process would be hard to begin when she couldn’t decide if she was impressed with Andy’s brilliance or angry for his constant generosity which ultimately killed him.
“Where are the kids?” Words she had forced down until they’d reached relative safety rushed from her. She swallowed. “Why’d you leave them?”
“I couldn’t let you go alone. You may have a gun, but you mean too much to people here.” Josh tilted his head to the house. “I tucked your kids into the master. Cole’s in charge.”
Heat infused Rachel’s face. “Did you put up the laundry?” Her panties moved in the breeze. Trite question considering the situation, but at the same time her underwear winked at her. He didn’t have any right pawing her undergarments.
He nodded, his gaze intent on her face. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.” He didn’t even have the grace to blush. Her panties!
Rachel’s hands shook. Breathe. She stepped to the house, lowering her chin. “I know. Thank you. I just, well, I’m freaking out and you... well,” where had her control gone? He spun her clothes onto a line and had to come rescue her from a situation she’d had under her thumb? Okay, maybe not that well in place, but she’d have snapped out of it eventually and made it back. Josh wasn’t her husband.
Anger coursed through her. And to be fair, it wasn’t Josh she was mad at. Andy was the target, but guilt was keeping her from acknowledging that to anyone but her spleen. Josh would have to do for the time being. She had to be mad, had to have an outlet for the adrenaline trying to get out of her nerve endings. She’d be in a fairer frame of mind, if she could get a moment free from the craziness swamping her world.
She motioned Josh into the front room of the cabin.
Rachel wrung a washcloth out and moved to wipe at Tom’s forehead. Filthy and torn, his clothes had quality written all over them in subtle labels and tight stitching. Name brand sneakers minus a shoelace had lost their luster.
Cole peeked around the corner. “Mom, can we come out?”
“Yes, I’m sorry. Come out but stay inside. I’m not sure what’s going on out there, but it isn’t good.” Danger was in the details. As long as they didn’t have details, they wouldn’t know they should be frightened. Rachel didn’t know why fear gripped her, she just recognized its hold.
Josh stood beside her. “Do you think he’ll be okay?”
“I’m not a medical doctor or a nurse, but it looks like he might be dehydrated, hungry, and tired. We’ll let him rest and then we can talk to him.” Rachel had never mentioned Brenda to Tom. He’d known her at least long enough to recognize the strong likeness between them.
~
RACHEL WAVED TO HER kids and Josh in the clearing. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to the top.” She motioned toward the hill where the back of the house exited. Josh nodded and pulled Kayli and Beau out of their skirmish. Rachel couldn’t focus on the fight and all but ran to the crest.
She reached the rock and threw herself to the bed of wild flowers at its base. And let her tears flow. And the wails wring from her body. She lost it. All her control.
The psyche games of recitation had no effectiveness. She’d tried, she had. All her training in psychology had focused on the control of fear, whether it was there or just a possibility, in dreams and consciousness, and she’d all but ignored the other mentality components. Grief. That was one she wished she’d covered, maybe as a minor degree.
No amount of psychology tricks would bring her husband back. Her children’s father. She had nothing to hold on to. Her rock was gone. She sobbed his name, calling for him in the woods where he’d planned so much for them. “Andy.” The world was falling apart and she had nothing. How was she supposed to stay strong for her children when he was gone?
Fear was one thing. Loss was another. She didn’t realize she’d need to learn about one to understand the other. Her stomach and heart seemed to switch places. She hurt so bad. Her best friend was gone.
And where had Josh come from? She got it, the past, but Andy had put Josh in the area where she and the kids would be... Andy knew she had nearly chosen Josh. What was he thinking? Had he been thinking? Or maybe he was secure enough in their relationship, he didn’t worry about it?
She didn’t dare think about her sister’s plight. If she ignored it for the moment, maybe she’d harbor hope that someone in her life had made it. The possibility of Brenda’s survival stopped her gasps and wails.
The pain receded enough to allow the thought of Tom Mason through. When he was younger, Tom struck her as tightly controlled. He reminded her a bit of herself. How he’d managed to make it to the woods testified of his strength of character.
They had to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Andy... she’d grieve for him better at a later time. But the pressure in her chest was lessened. She’d have a bit more stability when Andy’s death sunk in for her kids and their grief culminated.
Rachel pushed off the ground and stood, brushing the broken blades of grass and pine needles clinging to her clothes. She had a patient to check on.
~
“EXCUSE ME, DR. PARKER?” Tom had grown and his height had been hidden by his slumping. He stood an easy six inches above her.
Rachel tilted her head back. “Are you feeling better?”
“I am, ma’am. Can I use your bathroom?” He shuffled his feet.
Rachel pushed the chair away from the table. Leading him into the bathroom, she pointed at the shower stall. “Afterwards, feel free to take a shower. Everything you’ll need is in the cabinet. I’ll get some food.”
She was dying for answers. Impatience could have been her motto, but she left Tom to his own devices. Who knew when he’d last had the chance to feel human. She’d grill him over dinner. His emotional controls had been food and drink. She’d need time to figure out his triggers. They changed as people grew.
A candle offered dim warmth. She and the kids had lined the windows with foil to block escaping light at night. Whoever the men searched for, they weren’t looking for someone to shop with.
Shivering, Rachel wondered what animal would eat the dead body in the clearing. Northern Idaho wasn’t short on wild predators, human or otherwise. She stirred the spicy, sweet anti-chili. Hers and Andy’s recipe. They’d tasted it together over the years and made it better, spicier, chunkier with tomatoes and burger, green peppers and onions. Honey.
Water ran in the bathroom.
A toothpick pulled cleanly out of the cornbread in the oven.
The water shut off.
Rachel set the pottery dish on the table. At the door she hollered to the kids and they rushed into the room.
“Mom, I didn’t think we were ever going to eat.” Beau slapped the table and wiped his cheek. “Josh has been waiting all afternoon, too.” He waved to the door and sighed.
“Josh? I didn’t know he was outside. When did he get here?” She wiped her hands on a towel and waited for Beau’s answer with a hand on her hip.
“About noon. Is your guest awake?” Josh stepped through the door and nodded toward the back of the cabin.
Rachel jumped. When would she get used to him popping up? “You have a bad habit of surprising me.” She arched her brow. “He is. He’ll be out in a minute.”
The door opened to the bathroom. Cleaned up, hair brushed from his face, Tom could have been the kid next door who ran cross-country and waved each time he passed her house. He’d exchanged his dirty clothes for a fresh set and lost the shaky edge in his gaze from fatigue.
“Better?” Rachel glanced at her kids, careful not to stare at the changes in the man she’d known as a kid.
“Yes, thank you.” He leaned forward, extending his hand to Josh. “I’m Tom Mason. Nice to meet you.”
Where had she heard that before? Something in his tone when he said Tom Mason... he said it the same way as — “Were you the kid on the radio?”
He blushed. “You heard me? I didn’t think anyone would.”
“We didn’t know what was going on until we heard your report. I didn’t recognize your voice right away, it’s been a while. I do better with faces.” Rachel slid into her chair. “Sit down. We’re just about to eat. Are you hungry?”
The mention of food widened his eyes. Tom rushed into the chair before Rachel could suggest where he sit. Hungry boy. “Where are your parents?” She scooped the aromatic soup into a bowl and set it before her guest. Subsequent dishes for the rest of them followed by corn bread and butter settled into place on the table.
Silence clouded the room. Rachel reached across her bowl and rested her hand on his shoulder. Ducking her head, she said, “I’m sorry. This isn’t easy. When you’ve had some food, we’ll talk.” Pushing off the inevitable wouldn’t help him, but Rachel didn’t know if she could bear the thought of more loss, more pain. His mom had been funny and Rachel had enjoyed speaking with her. How much terror and trauma was ripping lives apart outside the protection of her woods? Inside?
How soon would the men in black come to find them? Would they? Would Brenda be okay? Or was she lost for good? She shoved her anxiety into a corner of her mind already full of other concerns and waved for everyone to eat. Questions tried to run from her mouth but she shoveled food in to block their escape.
Tom closed his eyes with his first bite. His comfort items. Food. Rachel glanced at Josh, glad to share the moment of helping another with someone. Lines at the corners of his eyes deepened with his smile. She broke eye contact and looked into her bowl where Andy’s face watched her from the liquid.
Guilt adjusted the taste of the cornbread to a cement-like mass. Andy hadn’t been gone long and already she was comforted by his best-friend’s friendship. Friendship, nothing more, but still he was another man sitting in Andy’s seat, smiling over Andy’s favorite dinner. Okay, not his favorite, but one he liked a lot.
Rachel sighed and almost missed Tom’s first words. “They’re after me. I don’t know why. I think my friends were killed a few months ago, but I’m not sure. I got away and saved Jenny from being shot and broke into your house and found Brenda. But I brought danger to them and now I don’t know where they are or what I’ve done. I have no idea if my parents are alive, no idea if I can go home.” He sniffed, his chin tucked to his chest. “I got Jenny kidnapped.”
“Who’s Jenny?” Rachel’s throat tightened, cutting off the comfort she longed to give him. He was broken and so young. What could she say? What could she do?
“A girl from school. But I ran into her when the men chased me into the campground. Her friends were shot.” He swallowed. The look in his eyes suggested she was more than “just a girl from school”, but Rachel left it for later.
She covered her mouth with her hand. What the hell was going on when teenagers were shot in a family campground? “I’m sorry. I’m glad you escaped. Here, have some honey on your cornbread.”
He raised tear-filled eyes to hers. “I’m sorry I broke into your house. We needed a place to hide and some food.” Tom’s gaze found his anti-chili once more and he mumbled, “Thought maybe if I saw you were okay, maybe you would be able to help.”
“If I can help, I will.” She brushed his hand with hers. “You don’t have to be the adult anymore, Tom. Let Josh and I worry about the big things, okay?” How sweet that he was worried about breaking into her home. Her heart double-thumped with compassion for him. “Tom, listen. None of this is your fault. And I’m glad you got into the house. It means it’s not being wasted by fire or something worse. I’m glad you met Brenda. I was worried about her. Now, you said they got Jenny and Brenda?”
He nodded, mid-scoop. “I don’t know how they found us. But they did when we got to your house.”
Rachel sipped her water to steady her nerves. Her sister. Damn it, Brenda, you never did know when to do what you were told. Come to the property, not my house. But was he certain they were after him? It wouldn’t be the first time foreigners had searched her out.
She glanced at Josh over the rim of her glass. He watched Tom with kindness, no rancor or distrust on his face. Lowering the cup to the table, she peeked at her kids. Cole was the only one interested in what Tom said. Kayli and Beau picked at the cornbread with their forks, looking for more honey she hadn’t stored enough of.
“What happened? Can you walk me through when you were discovered?” The truth would be hard to hear, but Rachel needed the information so she could formulate a plan.
He swallowed and cleared his throat. “Brenda said she saw something outside. We looked and nothing was there. She told us about this place, general stuff, and then yelled for us to run. They tear-gassed us, I think. I was the closest to the stairs, to the door, but it banged open and people were there, so I ran upstairs to the bedrooms. The girls were... screaming...” he swallowed again, his words working against him, “Someone yelled... something... I couldn’t understand the language they used. I jumped out the master bedroom window onto a van parked in the driveway. Lights flashed in the house. The electricity went out again and the street light turned off. I jogged into the field across the street and watched from behind an abandoned barrel while they took the girls and left.” Shaky words matched the quiver in his hand. “A helicopter flooded the area with lights. I ran to Coeur d’Alene.”
“You ran all the way to Coeur d’Alene?” Rachel dropped her spoon in her bowl. Awe laced her words. “That’s like ten miles or so.”
“Yeah.”
“The Tom I remember didn’t like anything that had to do with physical exertion. That’s pretty far.”
“Survival. I had to train myself to run.” Another bite down. He left his story there. Rachel didn’t want to know more at the moment. They’d carted off her sister and for what? Hopefully it had nothing to do with Rachel.
The group ate without talking. Spoons clinked on dishware and the occasional slurp from a cup broke the silence. Rachel didn’t want to say anything. If she spoke, the tears would be loosed and hysteria would control her actions. She could hold it together. Besides, her kids were safe, right?
Okay, she’d lost her husband at a very early age and at the beginning of something terrible and the end of something lovely.
Why was this happening now? America had already had the crap kicked out of it with a maelstrom of natural disasters, why would another country cut them when they were down? Was the world against them?
Rachel’s specialty was behavioral and causal psychology. She had multiple minors in abnormal psychologies, criminal interrogation and chemistry - biological, organic and inorganic. Instead of sciences, she should have focused on law and international affairs. Nothing made sense.
Empty, her bowl refused to release her gaze. She wanted to cry. Hard. But she needed to be strong for her kids. For Tom. But who was strong for her? Involuntarily, her gaze rose to meet Josh’s. He watched her with sympathy softening the lines around his lips and tilting his eyes down at the corners.
Suddenly, she was angry. She didn’t want his pity. Rachel could do anything – anything! How dare he feel bad. Who did he think he was?
Rachel gave herself a mental shake. The anger was natural, good even, but counterproductive when pointed in the direction it wasn’t meant to go. And where was it supposed to go? Certainly not toward her children, Josh or the orphaned teenager at her table.
She needed some perspective. “I have cookies, would you like some?” Rachel stood and removed the empty bowls.
Tom stood as well, picking up the plates and glasses. He followed Rachel into the kitchen and placed the dishes in the sink. “Thank you for dinner. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
“How long have you been trying to get here?” She welcomed a distraction from the route her thoughts traveled. Cookies stored in the pantry with milk were the perfect treat after the chili’s spicy heat.
“Since your house? Over twenty-four hours, I think. It’d been a couple days since I’d slept.”
“What can we do? I refuse to sit here and do nothing for Brenda and your friend. I can’t.” She spun to Josh. “I don’t expect you to help, she’s my sister, but I can’t just sit here, protected from the hell out there.” She waved her hand toward the window.
Josh turned his eyes toward Tom. “Do you have an idea of where they’d hold them?”
“No.” Tom hung his head. The moment reeked of disappointment. He snapped his head up and gasped. “But I’m a member of ARRL and I have my portable radio in the pack.”
“ARRL?” Rachel hated acronyms. Just say it, already.
“Amateur Radio Relay League. We have a few local leagues in the area but overall we work together during emergencies. We’ve never had anything of this magnitude,” Tom snapped his fingers, “but when the earthquake took out Oregon all the way to Corvallis, we were able to get word to those further inland because of the ham radio connection. They work worldwide. We can even send files. Maybe there’s someone out there who knows what’s going on.”
“Ham radio?” Rachel scrunched her nose. “Isn’t that a hobby? I remember your dad was into that.”
Josh laughed. “It’s called amateur for a reason, Rachel. I’m game. In fact, Tom, I have a radio set up at my place. I meant to get lessons and figure out the jargon, but time didn’t allow. You’re welcome to try mine if you think you’d have more luck with a stationary setup.”
Tom nodded. “Thanks. I could set up the portable I have in the field out there, but it needs a satellite and they pass overhead only every twelve hours. If I have to wait, it could take a day or two to track them. How high up is your station?”
“High.”
“We can sure give it a shot.” Tom squinted. “It’d shorten the searching.”
“We’ll go first thing. If we find where they’re keeping Brenda, we’ll see if we can get her out.” Josh’s confidence comforted the turmoil in Rachel’s heart. Strength, which he had, would fix the problem. At least he promised they’d try. Made the biggest difference. Of course he’d never mentioned what they’d do, if Brenda wasn’t being held... alive.
“Mom, I could help.”
Rachel snapped her gaze to Cole. Angles were emerging through the meat of adolescence and the solid set of his jaw and slight downturn of his eyes hinted at Andy more strongly than ever before. His fourteen years had matured more in a couple of hellish days than the crap he’d endured at high school.
“Cole.” Rachel moved to the table and sat down. She looked into eyes that could have been her husband’s. “I know you can help. I get that. But, Cole, I need you to be safe, more than I need Brenda home. Do you understand that?”
He nodded but looked away.
Who didn’t want to be effective in scary times? Brenda was his aunt, his only aunt, but Cole was Rachel’s only Cole. The only one. Her first born and she’d be damned if she’d sit by while he went off to find more trouble in a setting she didn’t understand. It was one thing to face the world with all its temptations and trials, but something entirely different to face an entity that wanted to obliterate you from the earth. Cole would stay there. Her kids would be safe. No matter what.
Crap. Her ego was getting in the way again.
Josh cleared his throat. “Cole, that’s awesome. But we’re not even sure we can find her. Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. We might be facing an empty town out there. We don’t know.” He looked at Tom. “Unless of course you can remember anything we could use?”
“I remember a lot. But it isn’t pretty.”