by Erin Lorence
I closed my eyes and wondered if Melody had remembered to bee repellant her lids and if the smoke from the fire ring protected the hidden Christians and one nonbeliever positioned around the perimeter.
The smoke-sedated bees calmed on this side. But the waist-high fire walls would soon burn themselves out. Would fire and stingers convince Diamond and her group that they’d lost? To back down and leave?
Chaos surged around me. Without moving my lips, I prayed Hunter, who held a sling weapon, shot straight. I couldn’t dodge projectiles wearing bees like this.
Through cracked lids I saw the tallest girl dump her blanket bundle onto the trampled ferns and sprint. Trapped, she stumbled and cursed as she fell.
I forgot the bugs and opened my eyes wider. The bundle had sprouted a leg and an arm.
As the whole thing rolled over, the blanket fell off. Jezebel sat up, rubbing her eyes and blinking.
Her fist found her hip. With a huff, she jerked her bag’s pink strap back onto her shoulder. Her fingers rubbed the line of her sternum, taking in the fire. Then she saw the bees.
Terror. Shock. Abandonment. All those emotions swam in her dark eyes before she squeezed them shut, blocking out the nightmare.
My chest ripped. Feelings I’d never known—and couldn’t name—burst out. Her pain hurt me. Each sting on her skin, her fear, her abandonment. They’d become mine.
Three running leaps brought me close enough to throw myself over her. I knocked off the bees and rubbed, trying to transfer the repellant from my skin to hers while she fought me.
So much skin—too much!
And I stirred up the sleepy bees. Because of me, two more stingers marked her cheek. I abandoned my attempts and searched for protection in the trees. But the flame walls still licked too high to jump.
I felt a projectile’s breeze as it whistled past. Again, I threw myself over her, but this time she didn’t push back.
Heaviness slammed down on my back, almost breaking me. Groaning, I braced myself against it.
Had a tree fallen on me? Why had Jezebel stopped moving? I groaned again and felt my trembling arms give a little. No! I couldn’t let them get her—not the bees or projectiles or this weird, crushing force.
Arms and legs grappled around me, and Wolfe’s shoulder tried to bulldoze me aside. I discovered Stone’s torso stretched across my back while he held onto Wolfe.
I arched my spine hard and bucked.
Miraculously, Stone rolled off. The wrestling continued next to me, but I ignored it and chafed Jezebel’s skin. How brainless to not have kept my repellant jar on me.
My own layer had worn thin. I swiped at the bee stinging my wrist and started plucking striped bodies from the girl’s tangled strands.
Why didn’t she fight me now? Why didn’t she move...or open her eyes?
More projectiles flew overhead, and someone banged against my legs. I kicked the invader wrapped in the blanket who’d tripped over me, but he stayed down like the others. Crumpled heaps around the smoky clearing. Only Diamond and another still paced the boundaries.
Through the haze, I made out the believers on the other side of the shrinking flames. Rebecca, Joshua, Hunter, and two more whose names I didn’t know.
Reed leaned into the fire. “Get out of there, Stone! Let him go. We need you.”
Open your eyes and be OK, I commanded the limp body under me.
“Jezebel!” Wolfe sprinted forward, then flew backwards. He sprawled yards away while Stone, who’d reared up in front of me, continued to crouch like a barrier.
“Reed! Reed!”
I’d forgotten Melody. And I couldn’t see her around the oversized boy in my way.
“Extinguish the fire,” Reed said. “Give me a two-foot entrance right here, right now.”
Without waiting, he charged through the blaze but not fast enough. His pant leg streamed with fire as he raced out of my line of vision. He reappeared—still burning—staggering under Melody’s weight. Stone beat the flames off his brother while a section of the ring went out. The three crossed to the other Christians.
The swarm had moved off, and human forms huddled on the trampled ferns inside the dying fire ring. Farthest away, two defeated teens knelt with their hands up. The violet eyes were angry black slits.
I felt a push against my stomach. Jezebel’s eyes studied me. Not scared now. But I knew I should comfort her.
“Well, Jezebel. That was a real brain dead thing for you to do, coming here.”
She shoved me away with surprising force. “I,” she glared up, “am going home.”
She threw herself into my lap. I placed my arms in an awkward circle around her and felt warm drops running down my neck.
“I’m not crying.”
“You better not be, tough stuff. You better not.” I blinked against my own sudden achy-scratchy blindness.
Blue and green sleeves from behind lifted her off.
“Don’t mess with me,” Wolfe warned Rebecca, who jogged past with her hands full of rope. For the first time, I noticed the other Christians binding together ankles and wrists.
Wolfe removed a stinger from his sister’s hair. “Your meds? You have ‘em? Been taking ‘em?”
She nodded and touched her bag’s pink strap. Then curled against him with her face hidden.
Letting out a breath, he squinted at me. “Why’d you—”
Smack. A coil of braided vines landed next to me. I swiveled. Reed’s leg was at my eye level. Ugly pink skin peeked through the singed deerskin hanging in tatters.
“Hurry up, Dove. After you restrain her, bring her to that enclosure. If you don’t know it, go with Stone.”
His brother paused, about to enter the midnight forest with three anchored-together attackers.
I brushed off dead bees. Reed’s face strained tight under its ash and sweat. I focused on that. “Are you blind, Reed? She’s a little kid. Not a prisoner. I’m not tying her up or making her go anywhere she doesn’t want, and neither are you.”
His eyes iced mine. “Fine. Stone?”
“Whoa.” Wolfe sprang up. “Relax, Giant—I’ve got this. Dove. He’s right. Jezzy and I should go with our friends.”
I couldn’t speak—could only watch him join his...friends, he’d called them. His sister’s head bumped against his shoulder while he walked away from me.
“I guarantee when the brat is conscious, she’ll be singing about how she’s responsible for all this—spying on me with the homeless dude, ordering him to take her to me, rounding up Diamond and everyone, most likely with a bunch of made-up stories.”
He turned serious. “But what I mean is they—we—accept defeat. My friends made a mistake, and we’ll all leave as soon as it’s light. You won’t have to worry about them—us—again.”
Reed snapped his fingers. “You’ve no negotiation rights, Heathen. You might live. Only God knows. Stone, tie ‘em up. Both of them.”
“What?” Wolfe jerked around to see Reed. A weak laugh escaped. “Oh, you’re joking. But no. No, wait. You don’t need to tie us. I told you we’re not gonna give you trouble.”
“Oh, come on.” Diamond’s teeth-clenched demand rose from somewhere near Stone. “You’re not going to be able to reason with a fanatic. So let him, come on, and we’ll figure our own way out of here.”
“Hey, not so tight, Giant. I’m carrying someone here.”
The warrior blocked my path after them. “No.” He studied me. “You’ll stay with me.”
Something clanked inside the sack he rummaged through. Before I could see what he held, an iron circle closed around my ankle—the kind my dad wore when the cops took him to jail. The other end he secured around his own uninjured ankle.
I folded my arms. “This is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done, Reed. Which is saying something. Give me the key.”
He poured a trickle from his leather pouch onto his burn, breathing quick. “Cop misplaced these on the slope when he fell. At the time, I didn’t understand
the reason. Why’d God want me to have it? Now I know. And so you know, I consider my injury one-hundred percent your fault.”
I fumbled my shackle mid-twist. “What? You’re serious? That’s not fair. Blame Rebecca. Fire was her job.”
“And yours was to stand with Melody. You understood that.”
“Is she OK?”
He ripped off the charred bottom of his pant leg and tossed it. The rest, he rolled above the burn damage. “Yet you abandoned her to aid an enemy who was at no real risk. Your gross overreaction drew her brother, who hadn’t perceived her presence before. And, of course, Stone believed he should follow. And that, Dove, left us weak in our perimeter offense.
“Mercifully, God enabled us to win despite this. But the real point is that Melody became so upset by your desertion that she positioned herself to be hit by our slingers. She let two attackers use her as a shield. Yes, Dove. She’ll live. She’s recovering as I speak. But after your abandonment I had to rescue her. And so, because of your choices, I’m burned.”
I shrugged. “Well, warrior. It’s obvious, right? If you don’t want to get eaten by the fire, move quicker through the flames next time. Don’t drag your feet. Do it like how Stone did.”
He choked while his fingers clenched the handful of moss.
“What’s the plan?” His brother sidled up. “They want to know. And they’re all pretty hungry.”
“Yes.” I tried to step forward but couldn’t. “Food. Those greens and berries in your sack. Make sure the little girl gets most of them.”
“Ignore her, Stone. You got them secured in the enclosure so they can’t escape? Even the littlest?”
“Uh-huh.” Stone noticed our ankles.
“Who’s guarding them? Brother?”
Stone looked away. “Hunter.”
“Not good enough. You and Mel are the only ones I trust tonight. Some of us may be turning traitor.”
From under his bleached brows, light eyes lifted. Still, I read nothing.
Reed finished securing the moss to his calf. “You two are on guard duty tonight. If you can handle it?”
Stone nodded.
“Have Mel eat something, and she’ll be fine. And let her know she’s to give three peacock calls if that old, bearded guy—or anyone else uninvited—shows up. Dove won’t be showing, but right now she applies as someone to give the alarm call on. Can you remember all that?”
“Yeah.” His brother glanced again at our shackles before moving off into thick brush. “Yeah, I got it.”
Reed led me towards the resurrected campfire where the others bedded down for the night, avoiding spots that still smoked. Before we reached them, he unleashed his ultimatum.
If I chose to stay true to the believers, I was free to continue on with them to the Council. But, if I went near the prisoners or aided them in any way, I’d be treated as an enemy myself. Excommunicated from the group. My prayer results would become worthless as the scraps of paper they were written on.
I laughed in his face that stayed too close since we were stuck together. “I can get to the Council with or without you.”
As if it was people I relied on to guide me.
“So, that’s your choice, Dove? Because if it is, I will accompany you back to the highway at dawn. You’ll be bound and left with a note explaining you’re a Christian involved in the police evasion last week.”
I recognized the reality of his threat. Wherever Reed went, his brother and his Samson strength trotted obediently along.
With effort, I held my sneer. “Then you’d miss the Council’s decision yourselves.”
“Worth it.” Reed gestured for us to settle at a piece of earth far from the fire. Keeping heat off his burn, no doubt.
“What’s with the matching anklets?” Joshua craned his neck.
“So I can sleep.” Reed gestured at me while I tucked the ends of my metallic blanket under myself.
The boy scratched his head. “And the plan? Are a couple of us staying behind tomorrow to lead those others back down to the highway?”
Reed yawned. “When the sun rises, we’ll decide. Forget about them for a few hours. I promise they’re fine, and you won’t be harmed.”
Joshua flopped down next to his sleeping sister and spoke to the stars. “I guess. But sure was a lot of bees.”
26
The forest night pressed down, broken by the shifting noises of the hollow stump crumbling as it burned. Each time, Reed twitched beside me.
His kicks and ankle tugs didn’t matter—I wouldn’t sleep tonight. My head was too full, yet so brain dead, exhausted. My prayers and worries got all gummed together.
Oh Lord...
The key! He must have a key to this ankle trap. The cops had one for my dad’s, and I bet it’s in his sack under his head. Where’s the opening? There. By his nose. Though he’ll wake up if I try to dig a key out.
Oh Lord, tell me. Which side do I choose? The one with those you’ve chosen and blessed as your own? Or the other with the nonbelievers, with Satan’s followers?
The answer seems obvious. But Wolfe and Jezebel...
Jezebel. Poor kid. Freezing. Not even a blanket. And all those stings.
I rubbed at my wrist.
Even if I escaped Reed’s chains, Melody would sound the alarm when she saw me. I heard wedding vows every time they spoke to each other. And now that he’d rescued her? No. I couldn’t trust her.
Fine. Tomorrow, then. In a few hours, I’d convince Reed to free me—that I was on his side. Then, I’d help brother and sister escape.
Escape. They had to escape to stay alive because the warrior didn’t plan to let them go. Wolfe had thought he kidded about the ‘you might live’ bit. But I knew Reed better.
Under my glare, he turned and knocked my shin.
If only I’d been able to travel by myself from the start, then I’d have avoided all this. Messes like this didn’t happen when it was only me and the Spirit. It was much less complicated with only one voice to listen to—
Rebecca’s creeping feet traveled nearly soundless over the ash and trampled ferns. She put her finger to her lips and continued toward me.
For the second time today, it struck me how different she was from other Christians I knew. It had nothing to do with her height and skin tone, but by the way she wore her hair and clothes, similar to Diamond’s style.
She sank to the ground a foot away.
What do I even know about this stranger? Fire. She liked it. And could handle it well. How could I have been so dumb as to trust a fire-loving stranger?
Cross-legged, she cradled her chin and studied me. Her grin pulled lopsided. “I’m freaking you out. Sorry. But we need to talk. I still agree with you about those prisoners. You called Reed’s plan for them ‘a sin’ and I agree.”
My hand hovered in the air—as if to wake and warn him. I lowered it.
She nodded. “But you’ll convince the others better if you don’t punch them in the ears with your words every time you open your mouth. When you speak, I want to duck and cover. It’s that painful.”
I opened my mouth and then closed it.
She bit her quivering lip. “So you agree. But I assume you’re not actively trying to get people’s hackles up?”
“Not my fault. I’m not used to talking with people so much.”
“Yeah, Dove. I figured. But I’ve gathered despite your—umm—unfortunate manner of communicating with us humans that you’re quite wise in heavenly things. I’m going to come right out and ask. You can hear God better than the rest of us, can’t you?”
I shrugged and then nodded.
“Figured. The way you stop and listen sometimes, like you’re hearing something the rest of us can’t. And I bet when you talk to Him, your words come out better?”
I blinked.
“Right. That’s the Holy Spirit interceding for you. It’s an automatic phenomenon. It comes naturally for true believers. You do it without thinking. But see, Dove, communic
ating with people is different. There’s a way of saying things so they’ll believe you and agree with you. It’s purposeful and requires skill. But don’t rip yourself up over being a huge failure.” She patted my shoulder. “You’ll never be as good at it as I am. Because that’s my gift. I’m a speaker—a people speaker.”
“Speaking? That’s an actual gift? Sounds made up.” I wrinkled my nose. But what she said began to make sense—why I felt so ready to agree each time she opened her mouth.
“There you go again, Dove. Stabbing my eardrums. But yes. When I talk, people listen. Believe. And most often do what I want. Partly because God intercedes on my behalf, but also because I know how to deliver myself to win people to my side.
“So when I meet someone like him,” She stuck a thumb at the flushed warrior twitching in his sleep. “I soak him in. Who is he? How does he talk, move, respond? I adapt my ways so he’ll respond in my favor.
“Sometimes I’m empathetic with an edge of humor. Or I merely listen and reassure. Or like your nemesis here, I exude pure confidence with a heavy dose of flattery. That way he believes I’m on his side, even if I’m not.”
“Well, that’s awesome for you, but I could never do that.” I couldn’t imagine the effort it would take to pull off something like that—the intricate untangling of words before they left my mouth.
She straightened, and the lines of her face hardened in the moonlight. Her warm irises turned cold. “You’ve never even tried.”
After a moment, she softened. “But I feel similar to you about those others tied up. Even more for that clueless Wolfe of yours and his little one. They remind me of some of my neighbors and friends. Lost spiritually, but not bad people.”
I gasped and, in my excitement, yanked Reed’s ankle. “Neighbors? Friends?”
She waited until he stopped muttering. “Because of my gift I don’t have to hide like the rest of you. Me and my brother and mom live in an apartment complex in Portland with five other families. Only two are still Satan’s. Three we’ve brought to Christ. All those you see over there by my brother? They’re from those families—their messengers.
