A Dead Nephew

by Anna Celeste Burke

“Where did your friend go?” Ruth whispered.

  “To find more water to drink while we wait for your father’s silence.” When the tiny girl nodded, her stomach growled. I dug through my fanny pack for a protein bar. “Eat this.”

  “All of it?” she asked. “What will you and your friend eat?”

  “We’re fine. We just ate.” That wasn’t true, and I willed my empty stomach not to betray me. Fortunately, Betsy returned with the water, distracting the hungry child. She carried what appeared to be fresh palm fronds.

  “How’s her mother doing?”

  “Martha has a gash on her head that bled quite a lot. It’s stopped now. Her breathing is slow and shallow, but she’s not feverish, and I don’t believe anything is broken. A doctor would do a better job.”

  “We’re not allowed to see doctors. Only Father has the power to heal on this earth.”

  “Then we have a problem. I don’t believe he’s willing to heal her, do you?” Ruth thought about my question and then shook her head no.

  “I’m afraid what your father told you isn’t true,” Betsy said in a soft, firm voice. “There are many people who can heal—some are doctors, and some aren’t. What harm could it do to let them try to heal your mother?”

  “I’d be going against my father.” Ruth paused before whispering again. “I’ve already done that, haven’t I? Yes, please let another healer try to save my mother.”

  “We’ll do that as soon as possible,” I said. “Would you like water to drink?”

  “Yes, please.” Ruth took a few sips and stopped. “Don’t you want some too?”

  “In a while. You drink a little more, and then I’d like you to watch over your mother while Betsy and I find a way out of here. We need to be able to leave quickly when the time comes.”

  Suddenly, the raging that had stopped began again. There were no words, but shrieks like the howling of a wounded animal. He stopped as if expecting us to howl at him in response. Ruth buried her face on her mother’s shoulder. I ran to kneel next to her. The sound of footsteps on scrabble and grit above us made Ruth quiver.

  Betsy was still, listening to each sound. She quietly moved toward the crevice I’d slipped through. As she studied the opening from below, Betsy was bathed in light for a few seconds before she drew back into the shadows.

  When the Cleaner Man wailed again, it sounded as if he was directly overhead. I held my breath until he stopped yelling, and I heard his footsteps sliding on the loose gravel. He was on the move. My heart pounded as I tried to determine if he was climbing higher or returning to the area below us. Suddenly, he bellowed one word.

  “Ruth!” he screamed from somewhere above us. The child spun around with her hands over her ears. I grabbed her, pulled her to me, and held her as tightly as I could without breaking the fragile creature. He called her name again, only this time from farther away. I hoped he was following a trail he’d imagined that we’d taken to escape.

  Betsy made a bed of the palm fronds she’d found. Then she removed my blazer from Martha and spread it over them. She took off the long-sleeved flannel shirt she wore and whispered.

  “This will insulate her a little from the cold earth floor. Help me move her, okay?” A sound escaped from Martha’s lips as we gently placed her on the mat. Betsy placed more palm fronds on top of her shirt, which nearly covered the small woman.

  “Where did you find those?” I asked.

  “There’s a clearing near the spring where I got the water. The storm had blown plenty of them down. The sand is so thick it’s almost a blackout. Peter will have trouble finding us.”

  Betsy could be right, but my heart leaped for joy. Under cover of the sandstorm, I felt freer to move about.

  “You could be right,” I responded. “I’m sure he’s using the GPS tracker on Bernadette’s SUV. I have a first aid kit, including a survival blanket, in the SUV. The storm will hide me, and I might be able to get my phone to work. If I can reach Peter, he’ll have a better signal to follow, and I can ask him to alert the nearest hospital that we’re bringing Martha in for emergency care.”

  “I understand what you’re saying,” Betsy said, speaking in a whisper. “The storm will give you cover, but why don’t you let me go? I know my way around much better.”

  “It’s too bad there aren’t two of you, dear Betsy. If Christian Cursor finds his way in here, you have a much better chance than I do of defending the child and her mother from him.” I paused, warding off the fear that accompanied my realization that Betsy would be better able to fight off Christian Cursor out there too. “Tell me where we are and how to find the SUV.”

  I slipped my facemask on as Betsy picked up a foot-long piece of wood and swung it like a baseball bat. She could do some damage with a swing like that! I thought as I pulled out my cellphone. Even if I couldn’t get a call through to Peter, I planned to use my cellphone to text him. I typed a simple message: THE CLEANER MAN IS HERE! If he got the message, he’d have no trouble figuring out where “here” was, even in the storm. I did a practice swing with my cellphone. I’d used it to smack the daylights out of a thug before, so if necessary, I’d try it again.

  It was easy to find the exit using Betsy’s instructions. Too easy, I worried as I squeezed outside through a cleft in the rock. I searched the area, which didn’t help much—everything was in motion. Good luck trying to determine if the Cleaner Man was running around, beating his chest, or rending his garments. As I took a step, I stumbled over a fallen palm tree trunk, and my phone went flying.

  Despite the pain that I felt hitting the ground, I didn’t cry out. As quickly as I could, I got up on my feet, turned, and gave the tree trunk a kick. That’s when I noticed the fallen tree completely hid the opening into the underground space. I gave the prickly trunk an apologetic pat as I retrieved my phone. There was only a single bar, but when I hit send, the whoosh gave me the courage to keep moving.

  I grabbed a pointy stick from the ground before crouching low and running. Right now, I could barely see the stand of palm trees where Betsy said I could hide long enough to get my bearings again. The palms weren’t just swaying but were bowing in the wind. Even though the surrounding air was thick with sand, the mask allowed me to keep my eyes open and catch intermittent glimpses of my surroundings. I didn’t have to eat grit either, although I wondered how much the device could take.

  “They wanted a desert test, they’ve got one,” I muttered to myself. A gust of wind almost knocked me down, and I was peppered by debris. Some of it stung my bared arms now that I was only wearing a T-shirt. The great gust of wind gave me a chance to catch sight of the next marker on my trek to the SUV. One of the tallest Joshua trees I’d ever seen waited with its branches outstretched. It was a smaller target to aim for, so I ran with my arms outstretched too. I didn’t stop when I reached the ancient tree because I’d seen the pile of rocks that were on this side of the clearing where we’d parked the SUV.

  I was out of breath when I reached those rocks, or I might have kept going. If I’d done that, I would have run into the Cleaner Man. I saw him the second I stepped from behind the rocks. The wind screamed less, and I got a good look at him before I retreated. I could also hear what had attracted him to the vehicle. The alarm on the SUV must have been set off by the wind or by the large branch that had landed on the hood.

  I needed him to leave so I could get to the SUV and retrieve the first aid kit. I also didn’t have all day. After grabbing a couple hefty rocks that I thought I could handle, I scrambled up to the top of rock pile and peeked at the scene below. The jerk was scratching the SUV with a sharp stick, which tempted me to try to bean him with one of the rocks I’d stuffed into my pockets.

  Instead, I hurled one of the rocks as hard as I could toward the pile of boulders opposite me. The rock tumbled to the ground, taking a few more with it. As I’d hoped, the Cleaner Man noticed. When he dashed over to explore the area, a rabbit scurried out.

  “Dang,” I whispered. I intended
for the rock to land beyond the rocks outside the clearing. I threw a second rock I found nearby. This one landed a few feet behind him—just beyond our parking spot. With his back still to me, I quickly hurled another rock which landed even farther away. He took off in pursuit of the sound and movement.

  “Please, please keep going,” I whispered as I scooted backward and bounded to the ground. I had my keys out and opened the rear door on the SUV before I got there. I pulled out the first aid kit, clicked the key fob to shut the door again, and then took off running. The Cleaner Man had stepped back into the clearing.

  Did he see me? I wondered, trying to keep my wits about me as I ran as fast as I could.

  29 A Place Called Home

  Somehow, I found my way back to the clearing, gasping for air, and with my heart pounding out of my chest. As I dashed into the sheltered area, I ran away from the opening, not toward it in case the Cleaner Man was on my heels. While I didn’t see him or hear him raging at me, I was still careful, creeping low from one bit of cover to another. I was near the fallen palm tree when I heard him screaming his daughter’s name. I took a chance, crawled to the opening, and slipped inside, hidden by the palm fronds. When a hand covered my mouth, I struggled to get away and kicked out.

  “Shh, it’s okay. It’s me,” Betsy whispered in my ear. He’s not far away.” In another minute, she released me.

  “I don’t see him,” I said, peering outside. “He must have missed the clearing.”

  “Yes, but he’ll find it. Let’s take care of Martha, and then even though the entrance is well hidden, we’ll try to make it harder for him to get in here. Were you able to get your phone to work?” Betsy asked as we quickly walked back toward Martha and Ruth. I pulled off the mask and shook it to get rid of a fine coating of sand on it.

  “I sent a text to Peter, but I couldn’t get a call to go through. I didn’t have time to try once I reached the SUV because Christian was there.” Betsy didn’t appear to be the least bit surprised.

  “Did he wreck the SUV?”

  “He was scratching it with a long stick, but I don’t know what else he’s done. No flat tires. The alarm was wailing, so no dead battery. I tricked him into leaving. When I opened the back door to get the first aid kit, it shut off the alarm. I’m not sure I succeeded in closing and locking it before I ran off because Christian was back. How are Ruth and her mother doing?”

  “Ruth’s been as silent as a little mouse. Martha was conscious for a couple minutes, and I gave her a few sips of water. She’s too weak to walk out of here. No way could she run the way you did when you blew into the clearing.”

  “I was afraid that devil was on my heels. This mask was remarkably helpful—I don’t believe I could have seen a thing without it. Your directions were great too.” It felt as if I’d been gone for an eternity—lost on the moon or a strange planet. “How long was I gone?”

  “Less than fifteen minutes,” Betsy replied.

  “Are you kidding? The SUV must be closer than it seemed. Maybe we could make a run for it if we rigged up a way to carry or pull Martha and Ruth.” I immediately gave up on the idea. “That’s if he hasn’t put sand in the gas tank or disabled the SUV some other way.”

  “Oh, you’re back!” Ruth exclaimed, and then covered her mouth. “Sorry!”

  “It’s okay,” I whispered, bending down to hug her. “I’m glad to be back, and I brought some things with me.” What I’d called a first aid kit was more a survival pack put together by Bernadette. I pulled out the pouch containing a shiny silver “space blanket.” Betsy and I removed the palm fronds and covered Martha with the blanket.

  “I’m going to use these fronds to obscure the entrance while you care for Martha and Ruth. I won’t be long.”

  “It’s well-hidden by that fallen palm tree,” I said, but Betsy was gone. We needed more than a few palm fronds to keep him out if he did find the entrance. What if that wasn’t the only entrance? Ruth was close, studying my face, so I stopped frowning.

  “Let’s see what else is in this kit,” I whispered, smiling. “Oh, darn, I bet you hate chocolate, don’t you?”

  “Hate it? I love it! We used to have hot chocolate when I was little before my Pop-Pop died, and Father found his calling.” Ruth abruptly quit speaking. “I’m not supposed to speak of those days.”

  “I’d like to hear all about those days when you feel like it. Right now, how about a chocolate bar?” Ruth’s tiny features lit up as she tore off the wrapper.

  “I’m going to check on your mom and clean her up a bit better,” I said. I had antiseptic cleanser and an antibiotic salve to use on Martha’s head wound. Aspirin, too, if she awoke in pain.

  “What?” Martha asked, stirring as I cleaned the gash on her head more carefully. “Christian, no…”

  “Shh. Christian’s not here. You’re safe,” I said. “I’m Jessica Huntington—Ruth’s friend. I need to clean you up a little more, okay?”

  “Okay. I’m just so tired.”

  “Does your head hurt?” I asked.

  “Not much. Where am I?” Suddenly, she tried to sit up. “Where’s Ruth?”

  “I’m right here, Mother. Jessica gave me chocolate. Would you like a bite?”

  “No, but a little water, please.” I put an arm around Martha to raise her up as Ruth helped her mother sip from the tube attached to the water bladder Betsy had filled.

  Where is Betsy? I wondered. I took the water from Ruth, wiped the tip of the tube, and offered her a sip. When she shook her head no, I drank from it. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until I tasted the cool spring water.

  In another minute, I’d cleaned and bandaged Martha’s wound. I felt better about her condition, although I was still worried about both Martha and Ruth. Ruth leaned against me, watching, her bare skin was so cold.

  “Ruth, I need you to do something for me.”

  “What?”

  “I’d like you to squeeze in under the cover and help keep your mom warm for a little while.”

  “Come here, baby,” Martha said, managing a faint smile. Ruth did not hesitate. By the time I’d put away the items I’d used from the first aid kit, Ruth and her mother were both asleep.

  Besides wanting Ruth to rest and warm up, I had another concern to address. Betsy still hadn’t returned. I was trying not to panic, but something was up. I needed to check on her.

  I searched the kit Bernadette had put together and removed several items I hoped would be useful if I ran into Christian Cursor. As quickly and quietly as I could, I made my way back to the spot where Betsy had gone. She’d succeeded in filling the space with foliage. Only a tiny beam of light came through the entrance. I carefully cleared away just enough to peer outside through the narrow split in the rock.

  My head spun, and I felt like throwing up. The Cleaner Man had Betsy cornered. She was swinging that stick at him as he stabbed at her with a hypodermic. I bolted from my hiding place, trying not to make a sound as I circled around behind him. I must not have been stealthy enough because he stopped to listen. When he turned my way, Betsy landed a blow with her stick.

  Instead of stopping him, he grew more enraged and lunged for her. I closed the distance between us and screamed bloody murder. This time when he turned around, I squirted him in the face with lighter fluid. He spit on me while trying to get the nasty stuff out of his mouth. After squirting him again, I clicked the long butane lighter I’d brought with me. A flame appeared and then flickered out.

  Christian shrieked in terror as he must have realized what I was trying to do. Betsy struck him again, and his knees buckled as blood poured from somewhere on the side of his face. When he tried to scramble away, I stopped him.

  “Move again, and I’ll turn you into a torch. This is where it all started years ago, Randall, and we’re here to make sure it ends today.” The Cleaner Man raised his eyes to look at me, astonished and bewildered. When Betsy stepped to my side, still holding that stick, he dropped his face onto his arms and beg
an to sob.

  It took a few tries, but I finally reached Peter. In minutes, he’d found us. He had a rescue squad and Sheriff’s Department officers from two counties with him. I insisted the rescue vehicle transport Martha and Ruth to the hospital where Louie was being treated. I was certain Martha and maybe Ruth had been drinking the “tea” containing DNP.

  Frank took the Cleaner Man into custody for the crimes he’d committed in Riverside County. There would be charges filed against him in San Bernardino County too. That included arson for setting fire to the outbuilding where he lived years ago as Randall Young. A neighbor had come forward, reporting that she’d seen something so unbelievable, she’d been afraid to tell the police. A man dressed as a cowboy had run across the road in front of her right before that outbuilding burst into flames.

  Christian Cursor would be treated for his injuries at a hospital in Riverside and would likely go through a complete psychiatric evaluation for the third time. Because Randall Young had legally changed his name to Christian Cursor, he was arrested using that name. He’d been clever enough to remove his prints, but he’d left his DNA in enough places to be held accountable for many of his crimes.

  If DNA didn’t do it, Martha told me where to find the Cleaner Man’s “new testament”—journals describing his mission and the efforts made to fulfill it. Who knows how much gibberish they would have to wade through to sort things out? I was convinced they’d close a few cases on the list of “missing” homeless men Betsy and her helpers had come up with by canvassing shelter workers and residents.

  “Betsy, do you want to ride home with me?” I asked once I’d made sure Bernadette’s SUV would get us there.

  “I’d better go with you. Someone’s got to back you up when Bernadette sees her SUV. I’ll tell her Frank has the guy who trashed it in custody.” I was exhausted but managed to laugh.

  “Ooh, ouch. I exceeded my fitness level today.”

  “It’ll be worse tomorrow,” Betsy responded. “At least this nightmare is over.”