by Ray Wench
“You need to stay with us. We're going to take you someplace where there's a doctor. It's a long ride. Close to two hours. You have to stay awake and keep strong. You understand?”
He nodded, said, “Yes,” in a harsh croak.
The woman came back and having heard Mark's words grabbed his arm. “But what about Kendra? We can't leave her. Those men,” she sobbed and covered her mouth. Tears seemed to explode from her eyes. “Oh, my God. Those men will do horrible things to her. We can't leave her.”
Mark knew she was right, but what could he do about it? If they transported Kendra to the freighter out on the lake, he'd never be able to get to her unseen. They'd surely have guards posted on the ship, not to mention the small armada of speed boats that served as escort. He'd never get through. Not alive, anyway.
“Please,” the woman begged. “We have to save her.”
Mark looked from the pleading woman to Becca. His daughter, having taken the small med kit from the woman, was working over the wounded man. While her hands worked, she looked up at him waiting to see what he would decide. She gave a gentle nod, understanding the risk and that it was a suicide mission.
“I won't make any promises, but I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, you have to go with your man and your son to the doctors. My daughter and son will accompany you.”
“No, I can't leave without Kendra.”
“Hey!” Mark said in a stern voice. “Listen to me. You can't do anything to save her. I'm not sure that I can. If you stay here, they will return and you will be captured too. Save who you can. I know that sounds harsh, but in this new world, it is the reality. Save your man and your child. If you don't go now, he may die. I don't wish to sound heartless, but that's the truth of the matter. If you stay he dies, and you either die or get captured. Go, and you all might live, but Kendra may be lost.”
“Ohhh!” she doubled over and wailed. She'd been given an impossible choice. One no mother should ever have to make. Mark knew he'd have to decide for her.
The SUV bounced around the bend in the road and made the turn toward the dock. Bobby braked hard, the tires sliding on the loose gravel as it stopped. He leaped from the cab and ran down the dock carrying the first aid kit. He dropped next to Becca and the two of them worked in feverish teamwork to stem the flow of blood.
The woman pulled the boy into her arms and held him tight to her chest as she continued to weep, every once in a while repeating the same words, “Oh please, Dear Lord, help us.”
Mark ran the same request through his mind but knew there'd be no such intercession. The young girl’s survival was on his shoulders. He knew, of course, that she would not be killed. She wouldn’t be a sacrificial offering. Instead, her body would be offered up, repeatedly, and that thought alone was enough for him to want to try to save her.
“Okay, we've done all we can here,” Becca said. “If we're going, we have to go now.”
Mark looked at the woman. She rocked, still holding the child. He feared the tightness of the embrace might suffocate the boy. “It's time to go.”
She gave her head a violent shake. “No!” she moaned.
“Though your heart is breaking, you know it's the right thing to do.” He took her elbow and gently lifted. She resisted, pulling away. “Do you want this brave man to die?”
She looked down at the wounded man through tear-filled eyes. “Oh, Dear Lord, please help me.”
Mark nodded to Becca and Bobby. They stood and each took an end, lifting the man. He let out a cry of anguish. As they shuffled away, Mark grabbed the young boy and gently pried him from the woman's grasp. He whined and reached for her, “Vonne!” he cried. “Vonne!”
“It's all right, Toriano. You go with them. You'll be safe. You look after Kentae. I will join you when I get Kendra back. I promise.”
“No!” He wailed, but Mark lifted and deposited him over the side onto the dock. “You follow my son and daughter to the SUV, okay? You'll be fine. You have to go before the bad men come back.”
The boy cried, but turned and walked after Bobby and Becca. Mark returned to the sobbing woman.
“You really should go with them.”
She shook her head again. “No. No. I couldn't live knowing I didn't at least try to get her back.”
Mark sighed. He understood but wished he could talk her out of her decision. Having her along would only make things more difficult. He decided to make one more appeal, but this time more forcefully. He grabbed her by the shoulders, gave her a hard shake, and shouted, “Let's get this straight, right now. Having you with me will only slow me down. If you get in the way, I will leave you behind. You're too emotional. If you can't get control of yourself, you'll have no chance of ever saving Kendra. You'll either die or become those men's plaything until they tire of you. Your best option is to go with my kids now. They will get you to safety.”
“No! No! No! I'm going to save her, with or without your help. I'm staying.”
Mark held her at arm’s length.
Her tone softened but her words had metal, “If it were your daughter wouldn't you do all you could to save her?”
His shoulders slumped and he released her. Yes, he would and give his life to do so. “All right! Get control of yourself. We'll leave as soon as my kids take off.” Mark went after Bobby and Becca. They already had the man loaded in the back of the SUV. The young boy stood outside crying. Becca squatted next to him and spoke in a quiet tone.
“I should stay with you,” Bobby said. “You can't do this alone.”
“I agree, but if she stays I need you to go with Becca. I don't want her making the drive alone and unprotected.”
Bobby frowned. It was a hard decision to make, but Bobby was smart. He'd see the sense of going with Becca. “Remember to avoid that roadblock. Don't stop for anything. Top off the gas tank with the cans right now, so you don't have to stop along the way.”
“Okay. Good luck.”
“And to you.” They embraced.
“But know this. If I don't see you in a day, I'm bringing reinforcements back.”
Mark smiled. He wouldn't expect anything else. The door closed. They looked over to see Becca had somehow managed to convince Toriano to get inside. She came over and hugged her father. “Be safe, Daddy.”
“You too. Get moving while there's still enough daylight.”
Bobby finished topping off the gas tank from a spare can and climbed in. Mark watched them go saying a silent prayer for their safety. Once out of sight, he turned to the sailboat and the impossible task ahead.
Eleven
The others at the table picked up on the tension that hovered overhead. Gone was the usual loud talk and sharp-tongued bantering. Lynn tried to engage the three women in conversation, as did Caryn, but all responses were guarded and most came from Juanita. Anytime a question was directed toward one of the other two women, they first looked to her for guidance and unspoken permission to answer.
Dondra, the pregnant woman, looked like a teenage girl in a thirty-year-old body. She rubbed her extended belly in a constant clockwise motion. She’d flopped more than sat when she first arrived.
“So, how far along are you?” Caryn asked.
Dondra gave a quick glance to Juanita. “I don't know. Ain't seen no doctor.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess that would be difficult. Do you have a guess? You look like about five months.”
“That sounds about right.” She turned to the tall lady, Gloria. “When did I sleep with Mikey?”
Gloria's eyes went wide with surprise before they narrowed into a warning look.
“Oh, I, uh ...” she stammered trying to recover.
Juanita put a hand over hers and finished for her. “That was about five months ago when that animal had you. Unfortunately, we got there too late. The deed was done. Now she's knocked up.” She rubbed Dondra's belly as if they hadn't noticed the bulge before.
Lynn watched, trying to keep all emotion in check. Inside she was bursting
with angst. It had been nearly twenty minutes since the women sat down to eat. She expected an army to burst into the yard at any moment. The anticipation had the small amount of food she'd consumed doing flips in her stomach.
“I have to go to the bathroom. Is it okay if I use yours?” Dondra nodded to one of the two porta-potties set back behind the garage.
“We can do better than that for you,” Lynn said. She covered Caryn's hand. “Caryn, would you show our guest to the bathroom?” She gave the hand a quick squeeze hoping it conveyed for her to stay with the pregnant woman while she was in the house.
“Of course. Come on, Dondra, I'll take you inside.”
The short woman stood. “Inside? You got one that works?”
“Absolutely. Follow me.”
Juanita watched them go with suspicious eyes. Lynn studied her, her own curious thoughts growing darker by the minute. The two kids sat next to Gloria. They hadn't been introduced nor had they spoken since arriving. They both ate egg packed between homemade biscuits. The eggs came every other day from Jarrod's farm.
Jarrod, a large man, looked more bear than farmer. He had an extension of their community housed at his place. Lynn thought of him now and hoped he was on the way with reinforcements.
“Are you heading anywhere in particular?” Lynn asked Juanita, trying to keep her voice friendly.
“Nope. Just walking right now.”
“So, no place in mind? Not trying to find a place to settle down?”
No response. She tried a different tack. “Dondra won't be able to keep up the pace too much longer.”
“That's our concern, not yours. She'll be fine.”
Lynn fought for control. The tone had said, butt out. A twitch worried at the corner of her mouth. “Not trying to make it my business,” she said in a level voice. “Just letting you know, that when she needs a doctor, we have one here.”
Juanita’s eyebrows lofted. “You have a doctor here?”
Lynn nodded nonchalantly and turned her gaze toward the biscuit on her plate. She broke off a piece and put it in her mouth. As soon as the bread touched her tongue, she realized her mistake. She was trying to give the impression of not caring, but the biscuit was dry in an already arid throat. She struggled to create enough saliva to swallow, but it became a small lump that refused to go down. Before she choked, she picked up her coffee cup and drained it, letting out a small cough.
The other woman, Gloria, looked around the table. Her eyebrows knitted in confusion. “None of them look old enough to be a doctor. Which one is it?”
“She lives off-site. She comes when we call for her.”
“Oh. Call her? Don't tell me you have a working phone, too.”
“No. We use a walkie-talkie system.”
Juanita mulled that over. “Huh! You seem pretty organized here. I see you got windmills. Does that mean you have electricity?”
“Yep.” She said but didn't elaborate, refusing to give the woman any more than she'd given up.
“Wow! That's pretty cool. Haven't been in a place with electricity since this shit happened.”
Caryn came back leading Dondra. They took their seats. Lynn wondered when the black girl would give her report to Juanita. She didn't have long to wait. The girl leaned behind Juanita and whispered in her ear. Lynn heard, “They have ...” but nothing more.
What had caught Dondra's attention? Lynn created a mental picture of what they passed en route to the bathroom. Other than electricity and running water, the kitchen would be the big draw.
Juanita listened, not breaking eye contact with Lynn. The battle of wills waged. Lynn kept her own gaze unwavering. She heard Caryn say, “Is everyone finished?” A few verbal affirmatives followed. “Let's get things cleaned up. Everyone still has chores to do.”
Lynn was aware of movement as other members of the community stood. Caryn stood as well but did not move from Lynn's side. After a long silent stare down, Lynn said, “Whatever you think we have that you want, is staying here. We have welcomed you to our table in peace. You should go the same way.”
Juanita took her time before replying. “If there were something here that I wanted, I would just take it. You wouldn't be able to stop me.”
“It's good for one of our sakes that you don't want anything. I think it's time for you to go.”
“Yeah, maybe, but I'd like Dondra to see your doctor first. Why don't you call her?”
Next to her, Dondra started to object. “Nita, I don't want to see no— Ow!” She bent to rub the foot Juanita stomped on.
“Call her.”
“For a guest, you're awful bossy.”
“Oh, sorry. Please call the doctor.”
“Wow! I bet that hurt.”
“Not as bad as what I'm gonna do to you if you don't call her.”
“Never was very big at responding to threats.”
Juanita leaned forward her eyes boring holes through Lynn's. “I don't threaten.”
Gloria stood. “Get up, kids.” They did so without comment. Gloria swept them behind her and took two large steps backward.
This is it, thought Lynn. Still, she held Juanita's gaze unflinching. Her gun was on the bench in easy reach. She trusted that Caleb and Lincoln were ready for whatever madness Juanita unleashed.
“Let's put it this way, blondie. You can either call her now or call her later when you're lying there bleeding.”
“You've overstayed your welcome. It's time for you to go.”
The hard stares became an invisible barrier between the two strong-willed women, built by the tension that emanated from them. A massive test of wills that, for the moment, seemed balanced and equal. That changed in the next second as four men emerged from behind the barn. One held a gun on Myron, another on her son, Caleb.
Twelve
“We're clear, Becca,” Bobby said. “No one's following us.”
“I don't like this, Bobby. We shouldn't have left him alone.” Becca's anxiety showed in the whiteness of her knuckles as she squeezed the wheel.
“I know, sis. I agree, but—”
“But what?”
“I don't know. It's Dad. There's no arguing with him. Besides, this guy will die without our help. We really didn't have much choice.”
“When we drop him off, I'm coming back. No one better try to stop me.” She glanced in the mirror and caught Bobby looking back.
“I'm with you, sis. Let's get this done first. I've got him as stable as I can. He's patched and out, but still breathing.” He climbed over the seat from the storage area and flopped in the back seat. They remained silent for the next few minutes. Toriano sat in front, leaning against the passenger door as if trying to get as much distance from Becca as possible. Bobby leaned forward between the front seats. “Hey, bud, you okay?”
The boy sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He shook his head. “Wh-where's Shavonne?”
“She's with our dad. They're trying to rescue your sister.”
“Kendra.” Saying the name broke the shaky plug he'd put in the dam of his emotions. He bowed his head, covered his face, and sobbed. Bobby put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I'm sorry. Our dad's pretty good at finding people though. He'll do the best he can to get her back.”
“Yeah, if he doesn't get killed in the process,” Becca muttered under her breath.
“Becca!” Bobby said, his voice reprimanding.
His sister frowned but made no further comment.
“My name's Bobby. What's yours?”
He waited several moments before he heard, “Toriano.”
“Toriano. Great name. Toriano, you're safe with us. No one will hurt you while we're around.”
“Is-is Kentae dead?”
Bobby glanced back at the unconscious man. He thought about his reply then decided it was best to be honest with him. “No. He's still alive, but he won't be for long unless we can get him to the doctor that lives with us. That's where we're going?”
“But, how
will Shavonne and Kendra find us?”
“Don't worry. My dad will lead them to us. He knows where we live.”
With that Toriano began crying again, softer this time.
“Bobby,” Becca said. “We should go back.”
“I know how you feel, but we have to trust that Dad can handle the situation. Or at least hold out until we return. With luck, we should be back in less than four hours.”
“A lot can happen in four hours.”
Her brother didn't answer. She tapped the wheel with the palm of her hand like it had a nervous tic. The situation was unacceptable to her. She was about to make an executive decision and turn around when Bobby said, “Sis, wake up. You seeing this?”
Becca snapped her attention back to the moment. Bobby's hand was stretched out pointing through the windshield. “We've got company.”
Up ahead was a van heading straight for them.
“Shit!” Becca said.
“There's a road,” he pointed to the right. “Turn there. Maybe they haven't seen us yet.”
“Going broadside will make it more likely that they do.”
“What choice do we have? If we keep going, we'll be seen for sure.”
“Maybe they're friendly.”
“And maybe they're not. Which way do you feel better playing it?”
She made the turn. The street was residential, but the houses were sparse. Becca floored the pedal and the engine roared.
“Turn left at that corner,” Bobby instructed.
Becca made a wide turn running up over the side lawn of the corner house. “I don't think they saw us turn. I couldn't see them so ...” he left the thought open. Becca made a right at the next intersection.
“Turn up that driveway on the left,” Bobby said.
The driveway was long. A line of pine trees on the left gave them cover. She drove past the house and pulled up behind it, alongside a three-car garage. Bobby climbed out to check the road, while Becca surveyed the property.
The yard was wide and open. Ahead, the grounds stretched about a hundred yards. The back of another house was at the far end of the land. More importantly, no fence divided the two lots. If necessary, they had an escape route to the next street.
