by Erin Lorence
“Now, shut up and listen.” He kept talking over the shooter, trying to interrupt. “I don’t deny there are fanatics up there who deserve to be taken in. But think for a moment, man. Pick your moment. This isn’t it.”
“It’s always the right moment to bring down radicals. Listen. We’ll get promoted, even be on the news. I have a plan—get this. We lock their bodies in the cruiser and hike down the highway. Someone’ll be by, and we’ll call the station and—”
“No. We’re not stinking up my car with a bunch of dead fanatics. Even a half a day in tomorrow’s heat will create a stench we’ll never get out. Now holster that thing and do something useful. Go see if you can get the emergency lanterns working while I check the cruiser’s battery. Go. They’re in the trunk.”
Footsteps hurried through gravel. “Yeah, lanterns. I’ll show him where those fanatics are. Flush ‘em out. Then he’ll see...”
The weight lifted. “You OK?” Stone tugged me to my feet so abruptly I teetered. “I didn’t smoosh you too much? Melody? All right?”
Somewhere around us, Reed grunted. “No rush. Anytime. Serious though, Stone. This is heavy.”
I hadn’t been able to move my head enough to see Reed. He kneeled six feet below. The shadow of a large rectangle engulfed him. He struggled to keep it upright as though it was a shield.
Stone leaped down to his brother, took the flat object from him, and held it one-handed as if it were a piece of cardboard. But it couldn’t be. The warrior had called it heavy.
“Get them all, bro?”
“Think so.” Reed clambered to his feet with a grimace. “Caught twelve. How many shots did you hear?”
“Twelve.”
As they bumped knuckles, a tiny tongue of fire sprang to life below. I watched the golden circle grow, trying to grasp that Reed had performed a miracle.
He’d saved our lives. Saved us from bullets that—until they’d started exploding around me—I hadn’t truly expected.
But Reed had.
He’d expected them and formulated a plan. He’d drawn the fire to himself with some crazy object he’d found. Then he’d used it as a shield to catch every bullet fired.
Which meant he’d told the truth last night about his God-given gift. He did have one. Because no mere human power blindly caught bullets like that—not without some serious heavenly guidance.
A faint metallic thunk dragged my gaze from the illuminated cop car at the ditch to Stone. He’d lain the warped metal rectangle—white marked with a large, black ‘55’—at his feet, the white thing we’d smashed at the road. A road sign minus its pole.
Reed gripped Stone’s shoulder. “On it?”
“On it.”
The giant picked up a rock fragment. Like Gilead would, he held it a second to learn its weight, then hurled it down the slope. Glass shattered. A curse echoed. And the flame died.
Reed faced me and Melody. “OK, crew. We’ve approximately two-and-a-half minutes until the next lantern’s lit, assuming there’s another. Let’s assume. So, let’s be in the woods before then.”
Stone’s arm locked across my back and guided me around the base of the precipice. Walking became effortless, as if my feet traveled a path on my property. No point fighting him and starting a landslide, I decided, letting him swing me up a slope.
He helped the others too—carrying Melody part of the way with his free arm and once offering a hand down to his brother behind us, who, far from stealth mode, breathed like one of those dogs with smashed faces. Panting like they do when they’re done racing around on their useless, short legs.
The hissing clatter of the avalanche starting behind us mixed with Reed’s irritated grunt that he’d triggered it. It dawned on me that, physically, the warrior wasn’t any smoother or more capable than me. Except for in the moments when God allowed him to be—like when catching cops’ bullets.
I limped to the first evergreen and collapsed behind it. The cartwheeling debris faded out and gave way to the stream of threats bouncing off the bluff.
I buried my head in my arms to muffle the stranger’s voice…even though I recognized it. No. Not the voice as much as the evil energy of it. The energy that drove the sheath of hateful words and gale force of rage straight at me.
The same dark power had crippled me with the scream in the garbage bin. And snatched at me during the storm the night we escaped the attacking teens.
I heard Satan. Gnashing his teeth, ripping his hair, and beating his fists because I, the Lord’s messenger, had escaped. Again. On his terrain.
I sensed when Stone knelt. He patted my hair. “Don’t be...you don’t have to be scared.”
“That’s right.” Reed breathed normally again, while his twiggy frame loomed over us—twice its normal size. “Because even if they make it up here to investigate, which is doubtful, we’ll be far enough away. Let them come.”
I slammed my lids down, trying to block out his ominous words—the same words from yesterday that had acted as a signal for us to become tireless machines, hiking on and on through the night.
Not again. Not tonight.
But...Reed was God’s chosen. His warrior. Receiving messages, catching bullets, doing miracles.
I shoved myself to my feet and tugged on my traveling partner’s hand, still clamped over her ear.
21
“You’re wasting your energy. There’s no point searching for a way up to the Council, because right now we’re where God wants us. You’ve proved we’re on the right mountain. That’s all you can do. So, relax.” I continued to recline on a fern bed and plucked an unfurling fiddlehead to nibble. “Wait for God’s timing. Believe me. He’s made it clear.” I touched my ear. “He’ll show us the way when it’s time.”
It was September eighth, according to the Benders. A mere week before the Council met to decide. I couldn’t explain why I didn’t bite my nails off with fear that I’d miss the vote and decision. It wasn’t as if the addition to our group cleared up anything in the way of information.
No one from the Benders’ MTV had ever traveled to Mount Jefferson before. I’d sort of assumed Reed knew more than I did about our mission’s final stretch. But he didn’t. So we were all guessing when it came to knowing exactly when. Or where. Or how to get to the where.
“Yeah, I don’t do—waiting.” Reed peered through a break in the wilderness at the snowcap above us. Despite killing ourselves to find a way up, it was still unreachable. “Not unless I have it straight from Him. Which I don’t. Only from you.”
A wisp of a cloud next to the peak’s white evaporated in the sunshine, so deceiving. My toes scrunched in my shoes to ward off the air’s bite.
“I’m done sitting here.” He shouldered his satchel. “A way to the Council exists and we’ve missed it. I’m going to find it.”
“Suit yourself.” I yawned to cover any outward sign of the knot in my gut. It doubled and tightened painfully when Melody heaved herself to her feet too.
She should stay here with me. Because, I told myself, staying would be way better for her.
She needed the break, the rest. Yesterday I’d noticed her face had become too sharp, despite the extra meat due to Stone’s hunting abilities. Her eyes were always too big now. Even when she wasn’t freaked out. And there hadn’t been much to be physically scared of lately.
I ignored the sounds of departure and spoke out loud to myself—and to whomever wanted to listen. We’d wasted too much energy circling Jefferson, trying to discover a way up its impenetrable sides. And how did we even know the Council’s camp was up high?
Sure, my grandparents alluded to it being “up.” And up made the most sense. But we didn’t have proof.
Proof. I grimaced at the unspoken word. After our first day’s failure to find the Council, Melody decided we were on the wrong mountain. In one of her bizarre, self-assured moments she refused to believe either Reed or me. For the first time, Reed and I agreed on something. We hiked Mount Jefferson.
&
nbsp; I’d pointed at the peak. “What do you expect, Brae? A lit-up path with people hanging off shouting ‘Mountain Council up here! This way. Follow the arrows.’? The Council has to be impossible to find. Otherwise Satan’s workers would’ve destroyed it day one.”
Reed had lowered his arm he’d pointed at the range on the horizon—geographic evidence that he wasn’t guessing. “You’re right, Mel. I respect what you’re saying. If you have qualms about our location, we need to find you tangible proof.”
“Proof? Sky alive, how are you going to find proof in this endless wilderness?” I’d seen no trace of humans since we’d left the highway days ago. It was the perfect place for a hidden Christian Council.
I’d gone along with the whole let-the-warrior-lead mindset and had trailed them back into the dense wilderness of the foothills—to meander.
At sunset the second day, Reed had found Melody’s proof. He’d kneeled next to the sign—“Jefferson Park” etched crudely into ancient wood. He’d pretended to present it to her. Then, he’d winked. “No more doubting me. Right, lady?”
Her eyes had squinted happy in her pink face. No doubt the reason she disappeared through the trees now without a backwards glance at me.
“So you’re staying, then. Not joking?” Stone paused between a mossy stump and a hemlock on his way after the others.
“Yep. Because there’s zero point in going, and this is a good spot. I got water. I got food.” I motioned at the huckleberry bushes we’d stripped this morning where clumps of spherical green already ripened purple in the afternoon sun.
His beard bobbed, but he didn’t go. “You won’t leave here while we’re gone? People get lost, hurt in this thick growth sometimes.”
“It’s a no-brainer, then. Save your strength too. You don’t have to do everything he does, you know. You and Reed. You’re two people. You should act like it.”
It felt awesome to say this out loud. Maybe I should run after Melody and tell her too.
His sun-bleached brows drew together while he grabbed for a foot-long garter snake. He tossed it away from the berry bush. “Yeah, I do have to do what he does. He’s the smarts. And I’m the body. And a warrior isn’t whole without both. Apart, our gifts are wasted. Together, well, you know.”
“Reed tell you that?”
“Sure. But it’s true.”
I raised my hand in farewell. And chalked up another victory for warrior Reed. Drawing people to himself and holding them there. It was like drone bees sticking to their queen.
I stood and hoisted myself into the hemlock. Drones don’t have a choice, but Melody and Stone? I’m pretty sure they did.
~*~
I began the day alone foraging, washing, and then climbing into a tree with a decent seat. The remaining daylight hours I spent soaking in sunshine and praying. And listening.
God didn’t reveal where the Council hid—but I also didn’t ask. I trusted Him. I wished the others would trust too, but I didn’t waste time moaning over it.
Of course, I wasn’t safe. Satan prowled, and I camped by myself in cougar and bear territory.
I thought about my bee call. I’d have been nuts not to. A hive positioned a couple hundred yards off, a monster, buzzed with potential. But I’d accepted the fact it was gone forever when I’d checked my bag and found it missing.
Jezebel’s doing, no doubt. Her face would be a solid purple from trying to get the whistle to make a high-pitched noise. All the while, she had to be running for her life from the swarm she couldn’t lose.
When night fell, I became ultra-aware that I huddled in a strange green forest alone, a million miles from home. While curling up in my tree tent, demanding sleep to come—and pretending I didn’t hear animals move—I began planning Jezebel’s and Wolfe’s conversion.
The idea kept my mind busy, even if it was all a fantasy. If I survived the trek home, I would never leave again. Ever. Unless God called me to be messenger again in another seven years.
The blankets over me rattled, so I refocused on Jezebel and how she’d believe the truths I’d tell her about my Savior. Kids latched onto whatever ideas sounded right to them.
But Wolfe...I clicked my tongue. He’d be a big problem, with so many years of falling for Satan’s lies.
While winged creatures fluttered outside my tent walls and warm-blooded ones crept around below, I struggled until I pinpointed what doubts he’d probably have and figured out my arguments for each one.
Every time I became sure I couldn’t lose the argument, I pictured him raising his eyebrows at me and whistling. And my confidence fumbled.
A person can’t whistle and smile at the same time. But he could. That is, when he didn’t throw his head back and let the laughter burst.
That’s the problem! I groaned. Humor. I couldn’t argue with humor. And he thought everything—regardless of whether senseless or important—was a big hoo-ha. A joke.
I closed my eyes and went over our few conversations, examining them for the key to my victory—some weakness or chink in the armor of humor.
I flung up my hands in defeat. Sky alive, there was no way!
I heard Satan chuckle. Worse, behind my burning lids I saw him—dark and beautiful—towering like an old growth pine over the lake. He’d plucked sister and brother out of the water and gave them a satisfied pat while fiery ropes lashed their waists.
Jezebel and Wolfe fought their bonds with little-girl kicks and well-placed blows, but the Enemy tossed them into the air and pulled open a section of his black cloak. The cloak’s pocket swallowed them. I couldn’t hear them—couldn’t even see the lump their bodies should have made beneath the midnight cloth. It was as if they’d been dropped into an abyss. A pocket abyss. Separating us forever.
The Enemy patted his pocket.
“No, Lord.” The rough, woven fibers of the tent floor strained against my damp forehead. “That can’t happen. Let their names be written in Your Book of Life. Let them know You and Your glorious name. Show me how, Lord. Show me.”
~*~
I watched as Reed abandoned his mossy walking stick and collapsed next to the green pool. He began to throw handfuls of water onto his streaming face and spoke between splashes. “So, this is what we know. Where the wilderness stops, the rock faces start. And every stretch of terrain that leads somewhere promising is too steep to climb, an avalanche waiting to happen, or it’s cut off by a deep crevice.”
“Hmm. Shocker.”
He ignored me. “Which means we’ve missed something. Which means we’re going to have to take more risks. Because we didn’t come all this way to sunbathe and get fat on berries.”
Ooo...ouch. I shrugged. I’d endured worse insults.
“OK, Mel.” He hunched a shoulder to wipe his dripping beard and took up his mossy stick. “Come water up so we can make it there before dark.”
Make it there?
“Uh. We found a better spot to camp—better since it’s higher up.” Stone held out his drawstring bag for the few berries Melody finished collecting.
I added my pile of dandelion greens, unable to tell if he avoided eye contact because he was nervous I’d say “no way” and be left behind, or because he’d be forced to make me come. As in, carry me.
We both knew I wasn’t a Melody mouse, so forcing me to go with him was bound to get messy. In the end, I’d lose.
I blinked and held it, listening for any insight about my relocating.
My fists unclenched. “Sure. I’ll come. But we won’t try anything dumb. And we wait on God. Agreed?”
I threw my pack over my shoulder—half-full of tent since I repacked each morning—and scrambled after the others. Reed was already out of sight. “Agreed? Hey! Right? You all agree?”
~*~
Venus shone star-like in the twilight when we spilled out from tight clustered firs into a semi-flat clearing. Ferns and low ground cover blanketed the shallow hollow in a jumbled mess.
“Here.”
At Reed’s
decision, Melody plopped down snow-angel style in the ferns and studied the darkening pastels overhead. The brothers, who’d spent the trek obsessively stuffing useless nature into their sacks, discussed the warmest shelter for night. As the warrior nodded at a hollowed-out log, his hands twisted vines from his bag into a rope, and his brother bent to readjust the downed trunk. I was the only one who spotted movement between the trees.
Before I could yell, a stranger peering backward tripped over Melody. By the time they both found their feet, four other strangers had trespassed into our campsite.
For three thudding heartbeats, we stayed rooted.
“Melody!”
“Oh!” At Reed’s growl, she remembered her gift. “Um. Um. Not a threat.” The shock ebbed from her face and she pointed. “See? They’re like us. Aren’t you? Aren’t you Christians?”
I didn’t exhale or sigh because they dressed in too-bright clothing. Not “off-the-land” enough. I backed up until a maple pressed my shoulder blade.
The tallest stranger—a dark-skinned girl in blue—stepped forward.
“Yes. You guessed right.” She unstuck a lock of bushy hair from her damp face. “Though it’s brave of you to reveal yourselves as believers so fast. Not many of us will do that nowadays. But, I assume you’re not afraid because of the strength of your group?” She nodded first at Reed and then at Stone.
She turned to me next. Her lips pulled up higher on one side, and her brown eyes thawed my gray ones a little. “And you spotted us first. Every group needs a good lookout to avoid trouble and stay on the right paths. Speaking of right paths, anyone know which way to the Council?”
Two newcomers whispered, and one forced a laugh. But I stayed focused.
There was something about her sincere voice and relaxed movements. Trust me. I’m on your side. A friend.
I believed her.
I threw off the irrational feeling and interrupted Reed’s theory on the Council’s location. “Don’t pay attention to him. We’ve no idea.”
