The Forsaken (The Chosen Series Book 2)

by Patricia Bell

  “I’m scared.” The voice was hushed.

  “I shall return,” Daniel whispered again. “Stay silent.”

  Daniel searched the money room for a place to hide. The steps grew closer. Daniel dove behind a huge shelf full of stacked hundreds just as the clack of steps hit the stairs. Too late, he realized he’d left the light on. He ducked low, afraid he might be seen.

  “Why is the light on in here?” his father mumbled. “Damn Elders.”

  Daniel held his breath as his father stepped toward the door that held Abigail captive. Daniel scooted up to get a look at his father between the boxes on the shelf. His father pulled out a ring of keys, fiddled with them for a moment, and then placed a key into the lock on the door. He opened the door slowly and went into the room.

  “Abigail Pence,” he bellowed, making Daniel shrink further back. “God has spoken. You have committed an unpardonable sin. For your transgressions, you have been sentenced to death.”

  The sound of flesh hitting flesh made Daniel jump up from his hiding place at the same time Abigail screamed out in pain. The box in front of him fell forward and hundred-dollar bills spread out in stacks all over the floor.

  Frantic, Daniel reached for the box, but it was too late. His father stood in the doorway, wiping the blood from his hand. “Daniel?”

  “Father. I was . . .”

  “How do you know about this room?” His father closed the door and locked it without taking his eyes off of his son.

  Abigail whimpered on the other side of the door.

  “Are you going to kill her?” he whispered.

  “Get up those stairs!” his father bellowed.

  Daniel jumped from behind the shelf, knocking more stacks of bills all over the floor. His foot hit a stack, and he slid to the floor, hitting his head on the hard cement.

  The High Prophet towered over him. The look in his eyes instilled pure fear into Daniel. “Get up!”

  Daniel stood, scurried up the stairs, and into the secret hallway. He didn’t dare turn around. He didn’t need to. The heavy footsteps of his father’s boots followed him all the way down the hallway.

  Daniel opened the secret door and stepped back into the house. His father followed and closed the door behind them. He grabbed Daniel by his ear and dragged him into his office. He didn’t let go until he dropped Daniel into the seat across from his desk. The same seat he’d seen many others sit in before him. The hired hitman who refused to kill for his father. The brother of the boy who died tragically. And so many others. Daniel trembled. What would his father do to him?

  He sat trembling as the man walked around his desk and sat in his chair. His father lowered his head for several moments while Daniel watched. It was the first time he’d ever seen his father bow his head. Was he really praying? Daniel did not think so.

  His father raised his head and calmly folded his hands on the desk in front of him. Between gritted teeth, he spoke. “What were you doing down there?”

  Daniel could not tell his father that he’d been spying on him for weeks. “I . . . was walking down the hall and I tripped,” he said quickly. “I leaned against the wall, and an entrance opened. I didn’t know where it led, so I went inside. That’s when I heard the girl. I followed the sound of her voice to . . . that room. The one with all the money in it.”

  “And today was your first time down there?”

  “Yes, Father.”

  “Why did you hide from me?”

  “I . . . I don’t know. I was scared.”

  His father stood up. “Daniel! Tell me the truth! Why did you hide from God?”

  God? “I didn’t mean . . .” The look in his father’s eyes could only be described as a wild rage. “I am sorry, Father.”

  “Sorry?” He slammed a fist on the desk. “Sorry?”

  Before Daniel knew it, his father was around the desk and staring down his throat. “You will never . . .” The High Prophet raised his hand and released it on Daniel’s face, knocking him out of his chair. Daniel grabbed for his bloody cheek and bent his head in a cower.

  “You dare to defy your God in such a manner?”

  Daniel dropped his face to the floor and raised his hands above his head to ward off another blow. Blood dripped onto the plush carpet, but he didn’t care. His father had gone crazy. On top of the evil things Daniel had witnessed him do, he’d gone and hit that girl. Wasn’t it bad enough that he’d had her imprisoned to die? Anger arose in him from the pit of his stomach.

  He raised his head. “You. Are. Not. God.”

  With those words, something unusual happened. The evil in his father’s eyes quieted. The wicked smirk on his face turned into something that resembled a kind smile. “You are right, son. I am sorry.”

  His father placed a hand out to help him up. Daniel took it. Not because he forgave his father, or even that he thought he’d changed, but because he needed to save Abigail. And he couldn’t do it if he were locked up himself.

  “Have a seat, my son. Let us talk.” His father pushed a box of tissue to the edge of the desk for Daniel to wipe his bleeding face.

  Just the touch of the tissue made his nerve endings scream out in pain. The gash on his cheek was deep. He stared at the ring on his father's hand. The sign of the High Prophet. Passed down for over a century and it was destined to be his one day. But he wanted no part of it.

  “That looks deep,” his father said, pointing to Daniel’s face. He picked up the phone and dialed. In seconds he was speaking. “Send Agatha in,” he said and hung up.

  Agatha was an older woman his father had hired long ago to cook for his family. Was his father ordering food at such a time as this?

  “Son, I am sorry that you had to see me discipline that girl, but she has committed a grave sin. She is a murderer. The first in our community to ever kill another. Her actions have cost the lives of two of our own . . .”

  His father’s voice became a drone in the back of Daniel’s head as he tried to connect the pieces of his father’s puzzling words. She had killed two people? How had she done that? Why had his father never mentioned it before? No one, ever, in the history of The Chosen had killed someone.

  “. . . so, when I saw you down there, I feared for your life. She is demon-possessed.”

  The door to the office opened. Daniel turned to see Agatha standing in the doorway.

  “I thought I told you to always knock.” His father’s voice boomed at the woman.

  But it seemed to bother her none. “You call for me?” she asked in her deep German accent.

  “Yes. Come in. Agatha, my son has had an accident. He has cut his cheek. I want you to stitch it up for him.”

  “But sir,” Agatha slapped her hands to her chest. “I am no doctor. I am only a cook.”

  “Oh, come now. Do you not sew up that stuffed chicken you make? This is no different.”

  Her hands transferred to her mouth and then she looked to Daniel.

  “Let me take a look.” She gently removed Daniel’s hand from where it covered the gaping wound.

  “Is very deep. I think you should call a doctor.” She nodded to the High Prophet.

  “Can you stitch it or not, Agatha?”

  Agatha shook her head no but then nodded. “I will try.”

  Chapter 24 ― Rachel

  Being confined to her bed, Rachel was going stir crazy. Even going to see Dr. Paine would be better than lying in her bed all day.

  It was a bit strange, and she would never admit it out loud, but she missed her sessions with the doctor. The woman was kind and tender. Rachel liked her. She’d been so grateful the woman had come to see her once, but she didn’t expect her back again. It was much too far out of her way to make house calls.

  The fact that she wasn’t allowed to leave her bed for anything more than using the restroom was stressful. Well except that she had plenty of time for reading and that had helped her reading skills tremendously.

  Shelly had come in every couple of hours to c
heck her blood pressure. It had already been elevated once in the day. Shelly had warned her if it spiked again, they would be going back to the hospital.

  Tears flooded her eyes. Her head tightened as if it were about to explode. Her entire body felt indescribably horrible. It was coming on again, and she wasn’t sure what scared her more, the fact that her blood pressure was spiking again or that if Shelly knew, she would take her to the hospital.

  But she had to protect the baby. “Shelly?” she called, her voice weakened to a whisper.

  She couldn’t seem to raise the energy to call out. What had she done? Why had she been so foolish? And Jacob, he wasn’t even around to help her through it.

  “Shelly?” she called a little louder.

  Lenny came into the room, carrying his transformer robots. “Mom is in the kitchen. You want me to get her?”

  “Yes, please.” Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

  “Okay,” Lenny said and zoomed out of the room holding his robots high in the air. “Moo-oom! Rachel wants you!” he yelled as he ran off in the other direction.

  “Coming!” Shelly yelled back.

  A few seconds later, Shelly was standing over Rachel, a kitchen towel in her hands. “Are you okay? You don’t look so good. Is it happening again?” she asked, drying her hands on the towel.

  Rachel nodded, trying to hold back the tears. Ever since she’d been pregnant, she’d been an emotional wreck. Just the sight of her own swollen body had made her cry. She’d never shed so many tears in all her life, then again, she’d never been through so much pain before either.

  “Okay. Let me take your blood pressure.” Shelly reached over to the side table, grabbed the cuff, and placed it on Rachel’s forearm.

  Within seconds Shelly was on the phone with the hospital. “Yes, this is Shelly Newton. I am here with a patient of Doctor Wells’. He said to come in if her blood pressure spikes twice in one day. Can you send an ambulance, or . . .”

  “NO!” Rachel yelled with as much force as she could manage. “No ambulance.”

  Shelly turned to face her.

  “Please.” Her eyes pleaded for Shelly to agree.

  “Okay, no ambulance. I will bring her in myself.” Shelly hung up and helped Rachel out of bed.

  “Lenny!” she called as she assisted Rachel with getting her shoes on.

  “Yeah, Mom?” Lenny came back into the room, holding the same two toys.

  “Get dressed. We’re taking Rachel to the hospital.”

  “Awe, Mom. I was watching—”

  “Now, Lenny. This is an emergency. And turn off that television.”

  “Okay.” Lenny held a hand up. “Fine.” He walked out the door.

  “That kid.” She sighed. “Come on, sweetie. Can you walk?”

  Rachel slid off the side of the bed. Her head pulsed, and her heart pounded wildly in her chest. Her body shook. She feared she was going to have a seizure as the doctor had mentioned. On rare occasions, Preeclampsia slips into Eclampsia, and that is extremely dangerous, he had said. And that is known by the onset of seizures.

  Maybe she should have let Shelly call an – before she could complete her thought, the room spun in a giant blur, and she fell back onto the bed as her body tremored. Shelly’s garbled voice called out to her, but she couldn’t respond.

  RACHEL WOKE UP IN A hospital bed. Shelly sat beside her and Lenny across from her, playing with his robots. She tried to raise her head, but she was extremely exhausted. The only time she’d felt this tired was the day she was thrown out into the desert to fend for herself. She’d walked miles that day before Shelly had found her and picked her up. She’d been so exhausted that she’d passed out then too.

  She turned her head slightly to get a better look at Shelly.

  “Oh, you’re awake.” Shelly stood. “The doctor will be here any minute.”

  Rachel nodded. She had no recollection of how she’d made it from her bed to the hospital.

  Shelly grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry. I had to call an ambulance. You gave me quite a scare.”

  “It is okay,” Rachel whispered, thankful she didn’t remember the ride.

  “Your blood pressure is back down, but the doctor will be here soon to make the final decision.”

  “Decision?” she whispered.

  “He will decide whether to take the baby or not.” Shelly squeezed her hand.

  “I am afraid.” Rachel trembled.

  The doctor had explained to her the procedure of a C-section, and she did not like the idea of a knife being plunged into her abdomen.

  The doctor entered the room. "How are you feeling?"

  Rachel did not answer.

  “Not so well, huh?”

  She stared at the doctor.

  He smiled at her sadly and touched her leg. “Looks like we’re going to need to do an emergency cesarean.”

  Rachel shook her head and pleaded. “Please, no.”

  Shelly sat on the side of the bed and put an arm around her. “It’s okay, sweetie. The doctor knows best.”

  “Rachel, your baby is in distress and frankly so are you. The only way to ensure you and your baby are both safe is to do the surgery. You do want your baby to be safe, don’t you?”

  Rachel nodded. “I am scared.”

  “Don’t worry. You will both be fine. And I promise you won’t feel a thing.”

  Rachel nodded again. “Okay.”

  “Good. Let’s get you prepped and ready. There’s no time to waste. Next thing you know, you will be holding your baby boy in your arms.”

  “A boy?” An excitement overwhelmed her. Soon she would be a mother, and she would have a boy to carry on Jacob’s name.

  Chapter 25 ― Malachi

  As Malachi stood, watching every person who passed the market stall, his anxiety rose. It had been several days since he’d spoken to Marcus and he’d not seen the man since. How long would it take? He needed to get word to them before the High Prophet’s hired hitman found them first.

  He was now second-guessing himself. Why had he only sent that brief, cryptic message? Why hadn’t he spelled it out? Told them that they were in grave danger? Why had he planned the meeting for so far out? A lot could happen in two weeks, but he’d wanted to give them time to prepare. He was not good at this kind of thing. And now Abigail was missing.

  A customer walked up. “How much for the blanket?” he asked rubbing his hand over the smooth fabric. “My wife would love this.”

  Malachi let Jonah take care of it. He had too much on his mind to make polite conversation with the English.

  Rumors had spread like wildfire as to the whereabouts of Abigail. Some said she ran away and others believed she’d been fleshed-out like her sister. Malachi had no idea which was the truth, but it only made his situation more pressing.

  He stared out into the market full of bustling English, spending their money on whatever caught their eye. The Elders called them foolish, evil, ungodly. But from what he could see, they were happy, free, and kind. They were not restricted by rules and regulations. They were not being killed off one by one for thinking for themselves. Malachi wished to be free.

  A weighty stare tore him out of his reverie. He glanced up to see a man slow his pace, wink at him, and pick back up his stride. He’d found them. Now he just hoped they would understand the message.

  MALACHI HAD JUST GOTTEN home from a long day at the market when the voices of his three mothers stopped him in his tracks. Their conversation from the kitchen could be heard over the distinct sound of peas snapping. They were getting ready for the Sabbath. Saliva rose in his throat at the smell of bread baking in the oven. Several more loaves cooled on a long table on the back porch. Not only did they prepare bread for the Sabbath, but for the rest of the week as well.

  The tradition of cold vegetables and bread for the Saturday meal had always been the complaint among his siblings, but Malachi looked forward to it. Some families stuck to potatoes and bread but others added another
vegetable if it were handy.

  He stopped as the words they spoke caught his attention. “Thomas said she is being held behind the home of the High Prophet,” Mother Dinah said.

  “But why would they do that?” Mother Ruth answered. “What does he plan to do with her?”

  “She is being accused of murder. Thomas says that God is holding her responsible for the murders of the three that died in the crash.”

  “What? Has she been fleshed-out like her sister?”

  “Thomas said she was not because the High Prophet feared it would bring more attention to the community.”

  “There is more traffic out there lately.”

  “Listen to the two of you, gossiping like a bunch of ninnies.” Mother Anna gasped. “That poor girl has been thrown in the old chamber, and all the two of you can do is talk about her like she is nothing.”

  “What can we do about it? God has spoken.”

  “Well, sitting around here talking about it like her life does not matter, will do no good either.”

  “Oh, stop it, Anna. It sure isn’t going to hurt her any.”

  “What dungeon are you talking about anyway?” Snap, snap. “I’ve never heard of any such thing.”

  “It was built into the house from the start. I hear tell there’s a secret passage and everything,” Mother Anna said through more snapping of peas.

  The two others gasped. “What for?”

  “I don’t know if it’s ever been used, but it’s there none-the-less.”

  “You think that’s where they have her?”

  “Thomas heard it from the girl’s own father. I’m sure . . .”

  Malachi had heard enough. He walked into the house loudly to break up the conversation.

  “Blessed evening, Malachi. Did you have a good day at market?” The women looked startled.

  “Hot and tired. I just came home to grab a glass of water before loading the truck for tomorrow.”

  Mother Anna stood and poured him a tall glass of water. The other two sat, one peeling potatoes, and the other snapping peas.