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BEAU SAT BESIDE HER on the couch. He tucked his small fingers in the crook of her elbow. Not again. Don’t ask again. “Mommy, when will Daddy be back?”
Don’t sigh, Rachel. Don’t get exasperated. Don’t sigh or yell. Or cry. “Beau, remember Mommy told you this already? Daddy fell in the house fire. He’s not coming back. He’s dead.” Matter-of-fact wasn’t getting through to him. Omitting her emotions hadn’t helped. Kayli applied the term “dead” to her dad but she didn’t really understand what it meant.
Rachel looked at her daughter standing by the foil-covered windows, painting trees on the silver surface with food coloring. “Kayli, come here, honey.” Her daughter set the tube down and wiped her fingers on a washcloth. She sat beside Rachel on the futon, opposite side of Beau.
Could she do it? Was it okay to mourn with others looking on? How much of an effect would her grief have on them? Emotional displays were appropriate in situations of this type but to what extent?
Kayli’s expectant face, mirrored by Beau’s, knocked the breath from Rachel. Crap, she was institutionalizing her children’s life experiences. Who cared if she looked like an idiot while she blubbered? Her kids couldn’t grieve because she wasn’t and they didn’t know what to do. Coping with situations was a learned trait and she was teaching oh so well... for a robot.
A sob escaped her. She wrapped her arms around their seemingly frail shoulders. “Guys, Daddy’s not coming home. Ever. He’s dead. He’s gone. Do you understand? He is gone.” And the reality broke down her protective walls. Yes, she could accept it. Her husband was gone. Her love. The man she had planned forever with, even into the end with. He was dead, burned. And she had their children to take care of.
Kayli’s green eyes, so like her dad’s swam. Beau buried his face in Rachel’s side. She closed her eyes and leaned into the stiff back of the makeshift couch. They’d come a long way in a few days. Had it really only been less than a week?
Her children’s bodies comforted her like teddy bears.
Was that... no. Her eyelids flew open and her gaze sought the handgun resting on the side table. The quads weren’t two-stroke. She and Brenda had been raised around dirt bikes and that was definitely a two stroke motor roaring into her clearing. She squeezed the kids’ shoulders and stood. “Stay here, guys. If you hear gun shots, lock yourselves in the master.” She flinched at their small answering whimpers.
Rachel grabbed the piece and pushed the tinfoil from the corner of the front door’s window. A blue bike, a Yamaha, leaned against a tree trunk on the west side of the clearing. A figure darted into the shadows. Rachel held her gun at her side and twisted the knob.
Rachel opened the door without a sound and stepped through, watching the spot where the figure had disappeared.
“Rachel?”
She froze. A trick. It had to be. Her sister was here? She couldn’t ride a 250. The bike was too tall for her. “Brenda? Come out, I can’t see you.”
Rachel’s hands shook. She tucked her gun into her belt and moved to meet her sister. Brenda emerged from behind a tree. Matted, her dark hair twisted into a bun and secured with a stick. Dirt clung to her skin with fierce tracks leading from the corners of her eyes as if she’d cried going fast into the wind and standing still.
But Brenda didn’t cry.
Rachel continued to inventory her sister as Brenda stepped closer, cautious. Her eye was swollen and discolored and her lip had the look of a split, overripe grape tomato.
Limping.
Rachel reached out a hand and pulled Brenda into her arms. “Oh my word, Brenda, what happened? Are you okay? Where are the boys? I sent them to get you.” No one else was in the clearing and outside of their conversation no other sound filled the air.
Her sister had lost weight. Oh, Rachel’d missed her. And if her little sister had made it, the boys would be along shortly. Relief joined the riot of emotions swirling in Rachel’s heart.
Brenda squeezed Rachel’s waist. “Can we sit down? I’m tired.”
“Of course.” Rachel motioned her into the cabin. Holy crap, Brenda had made it. “Kayli, Beau, Aunt Brenda is here.” The kids still cried, but excitement mixed with loss and they raced to hug their aunt. A brightness where there’d been nothing. Thank Heaven.
Brenda greeted her niece and nephew with a weary smile. Blood had splotched her shirt and spattered the side of her cheek. Rachel waited until Brenda settled on the futon. She was brimming with questions and gratitude. The two emotions warred within her and she blinked the moisture from her eyes. She hated all the mushy stuff and so did Brenda, but really? Her sister wasn’t dead out there, but it looked like she’d been through her own form of hell. “Kayli, Beau, can you guys run into my closet? Aunt Brenda needs a new shirt and pants, please. She’ll want to change after she takes a shower.”
Sighing, Brenda sat forward. Her lips barely moved. “We don’t have time for that.”
“What do you mean?” Rachel sat across from Brenda. Shock. Her sister had to be in shock. She’d recommend some relaxing techniques, hot shower, foo—
“Andy needs antibiotics. I couldn’t get to the meeting place, but if Joshua brings Andy here, thinking I’m out there, he may or may not head out to get medication and not know what he’s looking for. I need to go.”
Confused, Rachel held her hand out, palm down. “Wait. You said Andy. You meant Cole. How did he get an infection this fast? He hasn’t been gone that long.” The mistake was cruel to Rachel’s lacerated emotions.
“No. Andy. He has a huge laceration on his stomach he didn’t tell me about. A concussion and second degree burns all over.” Brenda met Rachel’s gaze. “Oh, that’s right. I’m sorry, Rach. I know it’s hard when you think one thing but find out the opposite is true.”
“What’s true?” Kayli’s gaze ping-ponged between the women, her arms filled with clothing.
Rachel pointed her finger at Kayli but directed her comment to Brenda. “No. This isn’t funny. Don’t say it unless you’re absolutely certain.”
Brenda’s unwavering eyes held Rachel’s gaze, freezing her soul with hope. “Rachel, Andy is alive. He’s with Joshua, Cole, and Tom on the quad. I had to separate from them. Couldn’t get to the meeting spot this morning. They should be here fairly soon... if they’re coming.”
“Daddy? Beau! Daddy’s alive.” Kayli dropped the clothes on the ground and ran back through the hallway, her squeals soon matched by Beau’s excited cries.
Andy. No way. Rachel had watched the house fall. He’d disappeared in the flames. She’d driven away, thinking he’d died. Her love. Oh, Andy. She smothered her mouth with fingers aching to grab him and cradle him to her.
But no. Even if she could hold him close, he wasn’t okay. He had an infection because she’d left him. His life was in danger because Rachel hadn’t stayed to check. Guilt... ah, an emotion she was familiar with.
“Don’t think of it that way.” Brenda’s voice lowered and she shot a meaningful glance at Rachel.
“How can I not? I left him there, and he was alive.” Rachel brushed her damp hands over her jeans. “What do we need to do?”
“I’m returning to town. Any pharmacies could have the medication he needs. I just have to get into one. Joshua would have come with me, but it might be better if I don’t wait.” Brenda leaned forward and rested her head in her hand. Fingers from her free hand twirled a loose strand of hair. Her nervous tic. Her left eyelid drooped, just a bit, indicating fatigue.
How could Rachel let her little sister go back out into that? Whatever that was... But her husband was alive. With an infection. And if Brenda didn’t go, Rachel might have to deal with the grieving widow role all over again.
Once again, she had to choose to let someone do something unsafe for the greater good of someone else. Another person that meant the world to Rachel. Who mattered more? Could she quantify her feelings? Qualify her love?
In a field study, she would associate the amount of maneuvering to the fight or flight mechanism. Rachel stayed safe, out of the way of danger, blaming her inability to go-and-do on the necessary attendance of Beau and Kayli’s only living parent. She sent others out to do the dirty work. Like a queen bee. Safe. Unharmed while her child and sister went out into danger.
“I’ll go.” Rachel and Brenda’s gazes clashed, both shocked at the words that had jumped from Rachel’s mouth. “I’ll go. I can’t have you go out there in the condition you’re in.”
“What about the kids?” Brenda glanced toward the newly returned children who hung on their every word.
Rachel’s stomach ached. At that point, she wasn’t doing them any good. “You’ll stay here with them. I know how to calculate the meds, you just tell me what ones to get.”
“You can’t go out there, Rachel.” Brenda brushed the hair off Kayli’s forehead. She kept her eyes down for a moment and then jerked her gaze up. “I met Daniel.”
Rachel screwed up her lips and scrunched her brow. “Who?”
Brenda’s eyes hardened and she slapped her thigh. “Daniel Bastian. He certainly knows you. Made sure I match you and him.” She yanked her collar down and the clear definition of Rachel’s tattoo could be seen in the blackened grooves on Brenda’s white skin.
Flinching, Rachel self-consciously rubbed where her mark was. A tattoo had been hell. What had a brand in the same spot been like? Genuine tears warmed her eyes. She lowered her hand, which she hadn’t realized she’d raised. “Brenda, I’m sorry. But it couldn’t have been Daniel. Daniel’s dead. And he’d never do that. I’m sorry. Are you okay?” She shook her head. “No, he’s dead.”
“Wow, sounds like the story of your life, Rach. Think your husband’s dead and he’s not. Find out someone you worked with, who obviously hasn’t forgotten you, isn’t dead either. He’s alive. What’s next? He held me down while his boss did this to me.” She rearranged her shirt, a large hole in the chest falling just short of exposing the top of her breasts.
Chin jerked back, Rachel breathed through her teeth. “You sound a bit defensive. I didn’t make up his death. The head psychologists kicked us out after an accident in the middle of some of the designing sessions. He said Daniel and two others were dead.” Daniel had died. She’d been left alone. He’d been the only one who’d understood, who she’d connected with and had held her above the drowning levels of fear during the tests. When they’d designed the settings for the procedures and then subjected each member of the group to the tests, she and the other psychologists hadn’t factored in what it meant to have someone to return them to a level of hope after each day of testing. Once Daniel had been removed from the equation, her hope had been easy to diminish.
They’d never told her she was going home in two weeks. Those fourteen days had been interminable.
“I don’t know how to assimilate this, Brenda.” Rachel pushed her hair off her face. She avoided meeting Brenda’s eyes, but couldn’t help glancing at the crease where her sister had been burned. Daniel, dead or alive, had nothing to do with her. Andy being alive mattered. Daniel didn’t. Right?
Brenda leaned over and tapped Rachel’s knee. “They’re playing games, Rachel.” She arched her brows and tilted her head.
“Games?” Brenda could only mean the psychological ones. Why else would she think Rachel would care?
“Bad ones. Poisoned close to a hundred by simply telling me the wrong information.” Brenda’s pupils dilated. “Shot others. I don’t...”
Rachel motioned to the bathroom and bedroom. Her kids didn’t need to hear the details. “Kayli, could you get some shoes, too, please? Beau, grab some towels and soap, please. And I bet Aunt Brenda is hungry. Can you grab the sandwiches I made earlier?” The kids left and she directed her attention to Brenda. “And? What happened?”
Brenda’s breath caught. “Almost everyone died. We had to...” She choked and swallowed. “Watch. We had to watch as people died. Family members died in front of their loved ones. Friends watched friends die. He shot people in front of me, in front of the others. I argued, but...” Wiping her hands down her face, Brenda shook her head.
“Daniel did it.” It wasn’t a question. Rachel didn’t want to hear what Brenda said. But she had to. “Did they watch?”
Brenda whispered, “No. They pulled me out and questioned me about you, branded me, and then gave me medical supplies for the people.”
Hell. Nova Scotia all over again. “Are you sure no one watched you?” The games only worked if Daniel watched, observed. There wouldn’t be any point to any of it, if they didn’t have a way to document information. He’d been with her at most of her consultations as he was recognized as the foremost expert in his theory of valuation versus physical reactionism.
“We didn’t see anyone. If they’d watched, they’d have known we were staging some of the live people to act as dead ones. We were supposed to get the bodies out.”
“Did anyone know you thought it was poison?” Damn it.
“I told them the other dead bodies in the gym were making us sick, too. Killing us.” Brenda twisted her fingers in her lap.
Rachel nodded her head. Good. Part of the experiment involved gauging the reaction of fear in the victim when they suspected everything and everyone as their potential predator. Daniel wouldn’t have allowed testing to proceed without some form of detailing the findings.
Her nightmares had returned to haunt her, but Rachel wasn’t going to wake up and realize it was just a dream. Not this time.