by Erin Lorence
Wolfe elbowed me. “What I meant was the guy was fiercely peaceful. Yeah, I think that’s right. His fierce peacefulness reminded me of you. So, I asked him if he’d seen you and which way you’d gone.”
My forehead wrinkled in disbelief. “And he told you? You understood him?”
“Uh, sort of. He muttered something like, ‘It is impossible for man, but God makes it not impossible.’”
I scrubbed at my face in anguish while he butchered God’s perfect wording. “‘With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.’ And you deduced from this we were heading to Mount Jefferson?”
He grinned and pulled a thick square of folded paper out of his pocket. “Well, yeah. And it helped when he kept pointing at two peaks on the map that I sort of took from Melody’s bag. Here.”
I snatched the stolen paper and unfolded it until I held a battered map with rips at each fold. Willamette National Forest ran across its top.
I traced the red line we must’ve driven from Mount Washington and the wide blank of high desert, empty of marked towns. I traced all the way back to the area near Prineville. My fingertip lingered. Home.
“She had a map.” I peered across the fire, where Melody’s forehead bumped onto her kneecaps and stayed there.
He let out a sigh of relief. “You’re not mad? It was tucked into the bag’s lining, and it’s out of date. But, hey. I hope me having it didn’t mess you up.”
I help up a finger. “Hold up. You said Sam—er—the homeless guy, showed you two peaks. How’d you know which one? Did you...you didn’t try Washington first did you?”
My heart accelerated. Darcy slinking between trees. Raging fires. Nonbelievers snuffed out like ants underfoot. And Wolfe wandering around searching for Christians.
“Nah. I took the ‘impossible for man’ part literally. From the two he showed me, I chose the one that’s hardest to climb. Jefferson is a Class four and five. A person’s got to be an expert climber to get up it.”
“Oh. Huh. That was actually kind of smart of you, Wolfe.”
He scooted backward in surprise. “Are you saying something kind? To me? Did Dove—what’s your last name?”
“Strong.”
“Did Dove Strong call me smart? That’s the first thing you’ve said that doesn’t shred me like broken glass.”
To my right, someone snorted, and I whipped around. Rebecca again. Coughing.
I got to my feet and headed for the trees where Stone had vanished.
Wolfe’s voice trailed after. “Wait, you’re taking off now? Your conscience doesn’t cry out at leaving me here, surrounded by radicals who I’m guessing want nothing more than to be rid of me? That’s pretty cold, bird. Especially since you built my hopes up with that sweet compliment.”
Biting my cheek, I strode out of the fire’s glow to have it out with the Benders.
“She’ll be back,” Rebecca said. “In the meantime, how about handing over that branch you’re holding like a spear? We’ll get some rabbit on it and call a truce for the night.”
24
I still smelled the campfire behind me when Reed’s low murmur stopped me.
“...I can’t believe it, she’s not even that pretty, Stone.”
I stood behind a tree and hid from view. Huh? What girl were they talking about? They’d only met Rebecca and the other girl hours ago, and I couldn’t imagine Reed saying Melody was ugly.
I shifted uneasily, pressed my forehead to the bark, and hugged the oak. My foot tapped soundlessly against its roots.
Hurry up and agree, Stone. Let’s end this discussion about me so I can come out.
“Well, I dunno, Reed. I know her hair’s not brown, but it has whites and yellows. You ever notice how it kind of shimmers white in the sun? Like feathers of a real dove?”
The warrior made a disgusted noise, which covered my gasp. “We’re not on some double-date campout right now. You understand that? Yeah? Because I’m not sure you do. I one hundred percent need to know you’ve got my back—every single moment. If it comes to a real battle, you and I have to be in sync—with one person calling the shots. You do agree I should call them?”
“Of course, Reed.”
“Not you? Or her?”
“No.”
“Good. Because hear me, brother. If I can’t count on you—like I couldn’t back there—you might as well head home and send Darcy.”
“No. No! I’ve got your back, Reed.”
“Sorry. I didn’t quite hear?”
“I’ve. Got. Your. Back!” The roots under my soles vibrated with Stone’s promise.
Footsteps approached—running, reckless footsteps. I’d traveled enough miles with Melody to recognize them. I held my breath and tried to become moss on the oak.
“Reed!” Melody shrieked. “You left. And it’s coming. Big time. I can feel it so badly I can’t breathe. I can’t stand it. Oh please, let’s go to that den to hide. It’s so evil I can’t remember...I can’t remember how to...”
I leaned around the trunk but didn’t catch the rest. I pictured her face crushed against the warrior’s concave chest.
“Shh. Shh. It’s OK. I’ve got you. That Wolfe guy still there?”
“Yes.”
More soothing noises. “And Dove? She’s there with the rest, right?”
Again, her words were muffled. “...not with you?”
Crashing feet stampeded past me on my left side. Racing for the clearing without bothering about stealth.
“Stone! Wait up, brother.”
~*~
Blinking in the brightness, I located the warrior flanked by his bigger brother. Both towered over Wolfe. The latter held a lump of cooked rabbit in his palm. His eyes darted between them and the charred stick two feet away.
“The name’s Wolfe, and I’ve no clue where your girlfriend went. Maybe she didn’t like the way you detach people’s arms like building blocks and decided—”
“Enough.” Reed shoved him with his foot. “Forget the girl. I give you one more chance. Tell us who you’re with. And don’t lie—we know your comrades are near. You no longer possess the element of surprise, so start talking. Fast.”
Wolfe sprang to his feet and frowned down at the warrior. Even so, standing didn’t give him any upper hand on Stone. “I don’t know! If someone’s coming, why ask only me? How about them?” He gestured around the circle. “They’re pretty decent once they thaw out. Warm. Friendly. The type to have tons of friends who’d drop by for a...”
He faltered under the neighboring girl’s thunderous glare.
The warrior held up his hand for silence. “You’re Satan’s only proven ally here. And whoever’s coming yields Satan’s power. I doubt a coincidence.”
Wolfe shrugged. “Must be. No other explanation.”
“I have one.” Reed gestured at dropped-jaw Christians on the ground. “Melody? Is this fear familiar? Have you met this evil before—from specific people? You mentioned once that each threat has its own flavor. Have you tasted this threat before?”
She squeezed her arms tighter around her torso. “I thought so. At first. I can’t tell for sure. It’s so...”
She swayed. In a flash, Stone supported her with his arm.
Reed paced among the group. “Brothers and sisters in Christ. A heavy satanic force descends. The time has come to defend not only ourselves, but our land and our Council. Our enemies dare to attack us on this land set aside by God for His people. So I charge you to be brave. Be bold. Be the first believers to fulfill the Reclaim to take back our land, starting with this mountain.”
Josh scratched his curls with a drumstick. “I don’t understand why—”
“Whoever is with me, stand. Stand up. And if you’re with me, you’ll agree that this enemy,” Reed jabbed a finger at Wolfe, who reacted like a deer mesmerized by approaching car lights, “needs to be treated like one. Melody’s gift of recognizing wickedness proves he’s involved. She recognizes this coming threat. She’s tas
ted it, met it before. It’s his people.”
The accused backed, with hands raised. “Whoa. Wait a minute. This is nuts. I don’t know nothing. If you want me to go, I’ll go.”
I glanced around the clearing where no one else had stood. “Are you mental, Reed? You are trying to force us to sin? The Council hasn’t decided on war. The decision isn’t up to us. It’s up to God—and the thousands of believers who’ve been praying. So for us to make this choice of violence ourselves would be a sin. There’s no other word for it. Sin.”
Reed flicked his chin at me. His brother released Melody and joined me. His face betrayed no relief that the girl with shimmering hair showed up, unharmed.
“Wait.” I wrenched my head away from his reaching palm. “I thought of more words for your plan. Like murder. And wickedness.”
Stone’s hand found its mark, pressing against my lips.
Rebecca stood. “Hang on a sec. I appreciate your warnings and that you have a plan, Benders, but I think we all have a say in this. So get off Dove and let her have hers.”
Reed nodded, and Stone released me.
Anger’s heat licked at me. I shoved Stone.
“Well, Dove? Spit it out, then.”
I ignored Reed, fingering my tunic—my Breastplate of Righteousness—until the last clinging hot tendrils evaporated in the chill air. “I will follow your lead, Benders, and stand with you. Not because I like you but because I know God created you with an ability to keep us safe. But leave Wolfe alone. And don’t think of killing whoever is coming, or even really harming them. Otherwise I’m leaving. Right now.”
Wolfe’s glowering neighbor bounced up. “Me too.”
“I’m with her,” Rebecca said. “But I’m also with you too, Reed. As long as you accept Dove’s stipulations. No killing.”
“Fine, fine.” He held up his hands. “We don’t have time to argue details. But believe me, Heathen, I will personally stop you if you try to interfere.”
Wolfe’s attempt at whistling was a pathetic warble.
“Quick now. Everyone, what are your go-to defenses back home? Ones we can use here? Shout them out. Keep in mind our limited resources.”
Joshua rubbed his curls into a messier frizz. “Defenses? But back home we don’t—”
“Fire,” Rebecca cut across her brother.
“I’m a decent throw. And shot.” The guy I’d heard called Hunter kicked his way out of a pile of ferns. “And I’ve got an extra slingshot for whoever wants it.”
Melody raised her hand. “Animal...you know...sounds.”
“Stingers. That is, if I can have my call back.” I hadn’t missed Reed’s subtle pocketing of it earlier on his way to set snares.
I met his eyes but saw no embarrassment. Only satisfaction. And a smirk. So much for ringing bells and light. “Easy victory. Everyone, prepare what supplies you’ll need to fight—er defend—yourselves. I give you four minutes. Stone, count us down. Melody, stay beside me. I need to know when our opposition is steps away. Heathen, keep out of our way. And all of you remember, the Lord God is with us. No one can stand against.”
A subdued drumroll began, keeping pace with Stone’s countdown of the seconds.
I skittered into the warmth and knelt next to my pack, pulling out a plastic jar of bee repellant. My fingers fished out a golden blob—a mixture of liquid smoke, bee pheromone, and oils from the mint back home—and began to smear it over my face. It’d cover all skin not covered by clothes or hair.
A couple feet off, I felt Wolfe’s scrutiny, his face scrunched up, as if watching something icky happening. Not mad at being falsely accused. Or scared sick at what was about to happen. But grossed out.
The skin of his arm was showing.
“Where’s your jacket?” I slapped another glob onto the back of my neck and squished it towards my hairline. “Get it. Put it on.”
He motioned at the fire where blue and green cloth stretched on a branch next to it. “It got soaked while trying to find you on a creepy mountain.”
I worked the oily repellant into the spaces between my fingers.
“Why, you ask, was it soaked when it hasn’t rained? Well, Dove, it’s sort of embarrassing. I lost my cool and leaped in a pond. Yeah, I did. Actually, that’d be a good backup plan for whoever’s coming—lure them to the water’s edge. Sneak up behind and make a noise like a possessed frog. Then voila! They panic, fall in, and we sit back and watch them grow weak from hypothermia.”
“Wear it. Even if it’s wet.”
He rubbed his arms and then stretched them at the dying blaze. “So. What’s with you and skin? I’ve never met a girl so squeamish about a little bare epidermis. Or maybe this time it’s my skin that’s the problem?”
“Yeah, it’s a problem.” I handed off the repellant to Reed’s outstretched hand. He passed it to Melody, who dipped a finger inside and sniffed. She set it down.
Wolfe’s silent amusement grew.
“What?”
“So my skin’s causing you a problem? Like what? Impure thoughts?”
The green and blue blur smacked Wolfe flush in the face.
“Ow!” He clapped his palm to his eyebrow. “Zipper.”
I stood to help Melody. Stone stood on the far side of the fire with his back to us. His low voice ticked off the seconds. A couple feet away lay the jacketless limb.
“Trust me on this one, Wolfe. Cover yourself. Unless you enjoy pain. Irritated bugs and bare skin don’t mix.”
25
Shield of Faith. Check. Helmet of Salvation. Got it. Belt, shoes, sword, breastplate. Yes. I wore my full armor. I was ready.
The crazed wildcat yowl drowned out my call’s droning buzz as well as the small, shifting noises of the dying campfire at my feet.
I knocked Melody’s arm. The hair-raising echo dissipated into the woods. “No more. If Reed’s right—if it’s the same nonbelievers that Wolfe knows—then they’ll recognize your sound. And head right for it, for us.”
“But Reed told me to, Dove.”
I wasn’t quite sure which bush at the clearing’s edge hid him. I let my glare touch each.
Not only did Melody and I have to stay in plain view, waiting for the attacking force to show, but also Reed instructed Melody to purposefully bait them—to lure them in. If he was right about who this was.
I so hoped he was wrong and these were strangers drawing close—strangers who’d run away from a wild cat’s cry, not towards it.
I worked my call again—blew until I had to stop. Too dizzy. Plus, I heard the swarms, and I didn’t want them on us until necessary.
The length of Melody’s arm pressed against my sleeve, her muscles taut through her fur.
I thought a moment. “I never did ask how you do that. And what other animals can you be?”
Her arm relaxed a fraction. “Four. I do four. Deer, cat, frog, and this one. Guess.”
A melancholy wail of something almost human rose up next to me. I shuddered at whatever unnatural thing this was, pleading for help.
She giggled. “Peacock. Terrifying, right? Micah’s best at creature calls, though. He can sound like every—”
“Melody!” Reed’s whisper came from the bush behind us.
“Sorry.”
I started to ask in a louder tone what type of deer call. But she was transfixed on the black blob of rhododendrons.
My mouth became the high desert at noon.
I sensed it now too. Danger.
I gripped her hand, positioned my bee call, and started buzzing with all the air in my lungs.
In the scant firelight, seven bundled figures climbed out from the bushes. No faces—only hoods, coats, bulging hiking bags, a couple of walking sticks.
Dizzily, I found my breath while a single bee zipped around the tattered sleeve grasping a forked stick.
“Samuel!” Melody lurched forward, but I hung on. Samuel slipped sideways into the trees and disappeared.
The largest newcomer made a move to go aft
er.
“Nah—let him go. We don’t need him no more. See? They’re right there.”
Melody’s grip cut off the circulation to my fingertips at Diamond’s voice.
The girl with violet eyes I couldn’t yet see paced forwards. “You know why we’re here, radicals? You must’ve known we were far from done with you when you decided to take off.”
I struggled to throw off my shock at seeing Samuel, and the worse one that he’d led my enemies to me. “So? What’s stopping you now? We’re right here. Unless we Christians are too scary for you?”
I forced my lips into a smile and beckoned, taunted with one hand. My other still clung to Melody’s. Her hand began to shake.
“Hey.” The guy who’d lunged after Samuel circled the shadowed clearing. “I thought you promised Wolfe would be here, Diamond.”
“Did I get here before you?” She thrust an arm at me. “Ask the fanatic chick.”
I didn’t reply, too busy inviting the swarm the rest of the way. A girl pointed at me with a giggle but then got distracted swiping an aggressive bug.
Diamond stepped towards me. “Stop it. I said stop it!”
If I was the anxious type, I’d have been worried. They only had to take the call away from me—like Jezebel had. I wasn’t worried. Anyway, they’d run out of time.
The clearing darkened and began to vibrate.
“Wasps!” A boy fell.
Others flattened themselves to the ground too. Only Diamond, the biggest guy, and a tall figure with a humongous backpack made a dash for the trees.
They stopped short as a line of fire slashed the dark earth. It grew until an inescapable, flaming ring surrounded them all.
Melody and I poised motionless at its center. The repellant did its job, but the bees still crawled over my hair, face, and clothes. Tiny clinging feet invited me to swipe them off, which was risky. Instead, I focused on watching Reed’s two-part plan unfold:
Part one—we’d trapped them.
Part two, we weakened them.
The bees distracted the enemies away from me and Melody. Preoccupied, they flailed their arms, leaped to their feet, and crashed back down, yelling... They seemed more panicked about the number of insects than the stings. Pain screams are different. Worse.
