by Erin Lorence
Rebecca grinned. “Meet Brooke. Portland’s Sent. She’s my eyes, ears, and mouth in Portland since I was encouraged to relocate. She lets me know when any Christian stumbles through her door...which happens more often than you’d expect. When she called two days ago, I recognized her description of you and figured if you were risking the evils of Oregon’s biggest city, you must be in some big trouble—most likely looking for me to help you. She kept tabs on you and saw you hop the train south before I could get to you. Right, Brooke? Is that how it happened?”
She held up her thumb.
I confiscated the orange slice Wolfe tried to feed me. “But how come you’re here, Rebecca? In California?”
“Because you are. We followed your train.” She gripped an imaginary steering wheel. Driving. “You were easy to follow, lounging in that gravel car like it was a first-class berth on Trains Across America...until you disappeared in that bull’s yard. At that point, I had to guess your direction. And since you were with Chaff, I figured he must be leading you to his home at the coast, which seemed odd, but why else would you come south with him? So, we started searching the nearest sections of accessible coast.”
Wolfe pulled his arm away. “Yeah! Why did you come south with him, Dove?”
Sky alive, I’d been dumb. The whole time I’d been on the train, Rebecca had been minutes away in a vehicle. I thumped my head against the cushy wall. Then I met Wolfe’s scowl. I shrugged. “Maybe we stuck with Chaff because Trinity’s got a thing for giraffes.”
“Dove!” Trinity growled.
If only I had obeyed God right away and hopped off the train. I would have avoided the stuck-in-the-cave mess. I wouldn’t be frozen solid like one of Jezebel’s popsicles or have raw, stinging wrists. We probably could have rescued Wolfe in an easier way. And maybe Rebecca would’ve already helped me search for my family.
He rubbed his stubbled chin. “But...I thought Trinity liked Micah?”
“Wolfe!”
“Don’t be insensitive, Pickett.” I snatched the chocolate back. “We don’t speak of her obsession with that—”
“Both of you shut up. So, everyone is clear. Dove and I went to Rahab’s Roof for information, and a guy there told us missing Christians were being held near Trinidad. We found Chaff stuck in the building, and he also just happened to be traveling in the same direction. We are near Trinidad, aren’t we? Or was he lying about that?”
Rebecca’s bushy hair shook. “No lie. We’re parked about ten miles north of the town of Trinidad. Six miles north of Martin Creek Beach where Reed held you prisoner—not a bad choice in location on his part since it’s probably the most secluded beach in the state. These luxurious quarters you’re enjoying are the inside of the Jonah’s Thrift Store van. Hence the jackelope and the old lady furnishings—”
“And scuba gear?” Wolfe pointed at the torpedo tanks and pile of black rubber clothing.
“Um, no. Actually, the scuba equipment was a lucky find.”
He grinned at her. “I thought Christians weren’t supposed to steal. Isn’t it a top-ten rule or something?”
Rebecca’s nostrils flared. “We don’t steal. Hunter won’t forget our first stop on the way out of town is that strip of beach with the unlocked cars—to return what we borrowed. You won’t forget, will you, Hunter?”
Up, around...Hunter’s fingers continued to tie his knot around the scuba tanks—the same type of knot Gilead uses on permanent jobs where ropes stay in place until they snap from old age.
She nodded, satisfied, and tilted back on her chair legs. “The other stuff you see are pick-up collections to bring back to the store. Part of Brooke’s job. She takes her job seriously since she’s up for manager. Right Brooke?”
Another upturned thumb.
“Right. Dove, you remember Hunter? And my brother Josh?”
“Yeah. I didn’t expect to run into them today either.”
“They were with me when Brooke called. They thought they’d come along for the ride and for a place to sleep...which worked out nicely since we’re all a bit homeless at the moment.”
“And that girl with the messed-up braid and weird blue lips is Trinity. My cousin.”
“We met while you were passed out. And Dove, you’ve still got slime. Right there.” Rebecca touched her own sideburn. “Looks like some regurgitated seaweed.”
I shoulder-bumped Wolfe and swiped my ear. “Quit laughing.”
Trinity reached out and adjusted the antlered rabbit—the jackelope—so it stared in a direction away from her. “Wolfe, you were right about Rebecca. She uses her words beautifully.”
Rebecca’s chair creaked forward. “Well, it’s a useful gift sometimes...like being able to convince your guards on the island this afternoon to stay put when one was about to go ashore for reinforcements.”
No wonder that low, calm voice on the island had sounded familiar.
“That extra half hour of rising water made it impossible for them to get to Reed...and for him and his brother to return to you. The ocean cut off communications. Even if the guards discover the three of you gone, we’ll have a couple of hours of safety before they sound the alarm and search for survivors. Or escapees.”
Wolfe’s arm became a band across my back. “Dove thinks Reed planned for us to die in the rising water. Going off to search for the Chaff guy was only an excuse for Reed to get Stone out of there—and to send his strongest swimmers away...possibly the ones with consciences who would have tried to prevent us from drowning.”
“Sure. I’ll buy that.”
I’d quit listening to their back-and-forth since I already knew Reed’s intentions. They were bad. I leaned forward. “Is that my pack? And Trinity’s? Last I saw them that traitor Chaff had them.”
Hunter grabbed both from the top of a box. Mine landed in my lap.
Thump. Rebecca’s chair legs hit the van floor. “Show less hate towards Chaff, Dove. It’s not his fault Zech and Reed railroaded him into escorting you to California.”
She was right...poor Chaff. Wait! I shook my head. “Why should I be nice? And how do you even know him?”
“We spent a few hours together in the Holy Hall at the Council...mostly me talking him out of his conviction to hide under the bench—in case of an aerial attack. But today, Hunter, Brooke, and Josh wouldn’t have scubaed you to safety in time if Chaff hadn’t come out of hiding and told us about the secret cave you were in.”
I snorted into my chocolate. “I bet the giraffe had hidden somewhere lame—like behind a tree trunk—and you saw him poking out. And then he spazzed and blabbed all he knew...or what he pretended he knew. Rebecca, he’s a liar. He lied about living here. And he just guessed about the cave.”
“No. You’re wrong. Chaff has lived here his whole life and knows this coast. The guy’s paranoia keeps him and his sister alive. He told me once, he’s created an elaborate fake home as a decoy at Trinidad to throw anyone hunting him off his trail. But my guess is he has at least three decoy setups. His real home is probably miles away in some booby trap-rigged wilderness.
“Trust me, Dove. He made a real choice to help you this afternoon. He wanted to help. I would never have discovered him in the foxhole under the bush.”
The drumbeat stopped. “Becca screamed like a girl and fell over when he popped out. Then she did this.” Joshua lurched in a jerky crabwalk.
Her orange peel bounced off his grin. “Also, Dove, why would Chaff tell me everything, if he’d allied himself with Reed? He said about how Zechariah Brae pumped him for information about his hometown the first time they met...and how Zech made him promise to deliver messages to the radio broadcasting place in Portland. Zech made him swear that when he ran into you, he’d get you to follow him to the coast near his home. He told Chaff you’d come to Trinidad without a fuss because of the fake message he was sending along.”
A fake message. The memory of a plastic garbage bag rustled, followed by a declaration about Christians being held in California
. In Trinidad.
Apparently, my cousin’s mind was working along the same line. “So, my mom and dad...they aren’t near Trinidad?”
Rebecca handed her the rest of her orange. “We drove around looking for you when we lost your trail. We didn’t see any evidence of other Christians or a shelter large enough to hold more than about ten people. It’s a tiny town.”
“So, what are we doing still parked here?” Hunter jangled a bunch of keys over Brooke’s downturned head.
She swiped them out of his grasp and set down the electronic.
Disappointment sat heavy on my chest. We might as well go. Reed had told the truth on the beach—our family wasn’t close by. Where were they? Were they even still alive?
Trinity’s eyes were becoming slick. I fingered my blanket and pulled it up, over my wet hair. My eyeballs began to ache, and my body shook with trembles that had nothing to do with cold.
Wolfe patted my covered head as I sniffed, unable to keep my tears inside.
28
My muscles had once again decomposed to rotten squash. But at least the wintery cold had passed from my body. Unfamiliar music wafted from somewhere close, and I opened my eyes.
The dead-eyed jackelope grinned his buck-tooth smile from the crook of my arm.
“Sky alive!” I released the two-foot long, stiff figure back onto the floor space next to me. One of its antler prongs collided with Wolfe’s sleeping back.
Laughter filled the van’s gloomy interior. Joshua’s guffaws were the loudest. “Your cousin did it! She tucked the big guy between you two last night. Funny, right?”
Super funny. I squinted around and rubbed my skin to erase the feel of the creature’s moth-eaten fur.
Midnight-black curtains covered the nearest windows, a contrast to the golden sunshine that blasted through the front glass at Brooke who maneuvered the steering wheel. Pavement lined with moving cars and trucks stretched before her and Hunter. He snored with his scruffy cheek jammed against his fogged windowpane.
Trinity sat on the van’s floor, pitying me with her forced smile.
I gazed down at the creepy critter that had prevented me from any unintentional closeness with Wolfe while I slept. My face burned as I picked up my pack and repositioned myself against the tower of boxes next to her.
A fluttering heaviness filled my stomach. I snagged two pieces of cold chicken out of the red and white cardboard bucket.
“Are we in Oregon yet?”
I held out a chicken thigh, and Trinity accepted it. “We crossed the state line an hour ago. I told them they could stay with us in our place in Sisters…hope that’s OK.”
“All of them live with us? At our place? As in...the small patch of weeds surrounded by arborvitae trees? There’s no way we’ll all fit—”
“Motel Pickett has plenty of room. You all can stay with me.” Wolfe yawned. His eyes bugged a moment when he sighted the jackelope on the blanket I’d abandoned. “Hey, fried chicken—excellent.”
Rebecca stretched. “Wolfe, is that smart for you to live at your home address when you’re an escaped Christian terrorist?”
He took a bite and laughed. “Exactly the reason you’re invited over. Bippity boppity...good-bye charges against me.
I focused on the unnaturally thick poultry skin. “Yeah, uh, I might need you too, Rebecca.”
Chicken had a certain funkiness that made it not as tasty as the wild poultry my mom cooked. But it seemed most people in the world liked the tainted flavor. On our drive home last spring, the peeling-paint structures where we bought meals never sold crow or sparrow. Only greasy chicken.
She groaned. “Oh, Dove. Breach of contract with Fanatic Surviving. Again? Already?”
“I don’t know. Is that what it means if I skipped a scheduled trip to Louisiana with Lobo?”
“Definitely.”
“Then yes. Um. Trinity. You might be wondering about Louisiana and the Fanatic Surviving stuff—”
“I’m not blind, Dove. The only wooly sunflower patch in Sisters is right next to the sign showing your gigantic head. Godless strangers jump out of cars to point electronics at you. And more people chuck trash at you than at me or Gilead...or Micah.”
“Oh. Uh, good. Glad you understand.” I dropped my voice. “Then after we get to Sisters, we keep searching for our moms...after we, you know, pray about it.”
She bit into the chicken piece and chewed as if disappointed.
“Or I can search by myself. If you don’t want to come.”
She turned pale. Sick because of the chicken? Or that we still had no clue about our moms?
I tried again, forcing out my next thought. “Or maybe...I guess it’s fair that we try to find Gilead and Micah. At the Council. Since that’s what you wanted to do in the beginning.”
Hunter awoke with a snort. “The Council? You heading to Mount Jefferson? No point. Your brother won’t be there. None of the Sent or Council people will be because—listen, there it is. The message is playing again. Pump up the radio, Brooke.”
“Righto. This is Danny D...”
My head jerked around for the invisible speaker. Hadn’t he been captured?
“...broadcasting from the sunny slopes of Black Butte—”
“Black Butte again!”
“Shish!”
“...and for all of my sisters and brothers listening, and especially for those whose knees are worn out from praying over missing loved ones, this announcement is for you, delivered straight from your local Council by Rahab Rae and your own Danny D.
“The Council invites you to join us at this secluded spot in the Deschutes National Forest for a feast of prayer and mutual support. Members trained in security will be in the area to provide for your safety and to direct you to a campsite. So, grab your tent, pack your provisions, and come join us at Black Butte for our first prayer rally at sundown on August First. This is Danny D, signing out. Shalom.”
Dead air followed. I interrupted Rebecca, who was translating the Amhebran message into English for Wolfe. “Black Butte.”
Trinity tossed her chicken piece with one bite missing to Joshua, who caught it with his teeth. “Yeah, but a prayer rally? A support group for Christians with missing loved ones? That wasn’t the message about Black Butte you stole. Not even close.”
“Stealing—again? You people.”
“Not now, Wolfe.” Rebecca thrust her palm at his upturned lips. “What message, Dove? I bet you can remember some of it.”
I rubbed my barnacle-scratched wrist. “Heathen government retreat at Black Butte. Hold enemies for ransom. Fight. Win Reclaim...that last part was in big capital letters.”
Silence stretched, marked by tires rushing over pavement.
“Those two messages are a...a bit different.”
I nodded. Danny D had mentioned nothing about attacking enemies. Or of starting a war. Did his support group and the Reclaim somehow fit together? I had to get to Black Butte and find out what was going on.
I clutched my head. No! No more wild goose chases to places I wasn’t supposed to go. Never again would I throw myself into a situation where I wasn’t needed. Where God didn’t want me.
Lord, I didn’t trust You before, and I didn’t obey and get off the train when I should have. I trust You now. I’ll go where You send me. I won’t go where You don’t. So send me. Or don’t send me.
“...government retreat every year,” Wolfe finished.
I sighed. This happened sometimes—I missed others’ conversations during my own with God. “Repeat everything, Wolfe. Uh...please.”
“I said it’d be easy for us to check up on the real goings-on since Black Butte is right next to Sisters.”
“No, it’s not. Impossible. I would have seen it.”
His hand drew an upside-down smile in the air. “It’s that huge slope right next to our town...packed with evergreens.”
Oh, then yes, I’d seen Black Butte. The hump on Sister’s horizon hadn’t seemed impressive enough
for a name—there was no rock face or snow. When I noticed it, I just called it ‘the hill.’
“Black Butte seems like a bunch of trees, but it really hides a village near its foot where rich people go for vacations—to be in nature. So, it has lots of fancy buildings, spas, swimming pools, tennis courts...plus a couple bike paths to enjoy trees from the comfort of asphalt. And every summer, government officials from Oregon stay in that village for a secret retreat. A retreat, Dove and Trinity, is like a work getaway where the employees sometimes bring their families along. But this one’s always hush-hush for safety reasons.”
Rebecca leaned forward in her chair. “If the retreat is a secret, how do you know about it?”
“Because every summer when it happens, security around the Butte gets tight. And officials’ families end up in Sisters to shop. Our town isn’t resort quality, but we have more stores and restaurants. The retreats are part of the reason Sisters has a western theme—it’s supposed to give our town charm so more tourists will visit and spend money. But it’s embarrassing. As if we should all be galloping down Main street looking for a saloon, tipping our ten-gallon hats at each other.”
Did he mean all the wooden building fronts with old wagon wheels and flowers were part of an odd western theme? I shrugged. They seemed more normal than Portland’s style, with its crowded, peeling-paint concrete.
Josh shifted in his sleeping bag, scattering chicken bones among books. “So, Dove’s message’s hostage situation will take place soon during one of those planned retreats?”
Wolfe studied his half-eaten wing. “It’s not likely, right? No one would be so dumb or evil to march in and kidnap our state’s leaders. Or their families.”
“What month do the retreats happen?”
“Um, August? July at the earliest.”
“It’s July now.”
“Well then, August.”
Rebecca quit questioning him and must have transmitted a mental vibe to keep quiet while she rocked. Josh and Hunter drifted back to sleep. Wolfe rolled onto his side, possibly reading a book from the scattered piles. Every so often a page rustled.
