by Erin Lorence
“Dove? Look at me.”
I dragged my lids up.
Her brown eyes were as hard as tree nuts buried in December snow. “Leave the prayer rally—and the possible trouble at Black Butte—for us to figure out. You step out of this pasture again, and I’m calling Lobo myself. I’ll tell him where you are, and I won’t speak up for you anymore. You’ll be on your own from here on out. I promise.”
“You’ll quit helping me?”
“Yes.”
My body slumped. I believed her.
34
I blinked at the red that glistened like dew on my sparse surroundings. Above me, the dove balanced on Gilead’s spike, protruding from the dead arborvitae tree. I blinked again, and the bird became a pure speck of white against the murky sun. A wing fluttered. Beckoning.
Wait up. I launched myself off the blood-soaked weeds and up through the shower of crimson rain. I flew toward a sun that blazed the color of old corn. My fingers closed on the bird’s silky tailfeathers. A burst of strength jolted through me, and we headed north.
A couple of breaths later, we touched down in a forest of pine trees. But as soon as my feet hit the damp ground, we shot back up into the sky.
Down. Up. Down. We only stayed a few seconds at each location. Each was identical—another patch of tree-filled wilderness surrounding Sisters. Black Butte stayed a constant maroon-covered hump on the horizon until we turned and headed for its base.
From my vantage point, a familiar, lone cement building below came into view. I swooped lower until the metallic odor mixed with garbage gagged me. The red flowed stronger here—thicker than anywhere else I’d flown. Maroony-black waterfalls cascaded from the building’s square, boarded-up windows.
I pulled at the dove to force it to hover so I could search, but it yanked me further on. The garbage scent faded.
I strained against the unusual power of that tiny, feathered body. “No, go back the other way.”
The creature dropped, and we landed in a flat clearing. I released it and ran for the dripping tree line that hid the building, but a sudden darkness dropped over me. I stumbled and groped. Blind.
White light flashed, shaking every bone in my body. I fell to my knees. And the piercing blast of brightness ripped me apart.
~*~
I opened my eyes to brightness that scorched my skin. Three feet away Trinity sweated in the tree copse’s partial shade and fiddled with her hair. Bored.
Still panting from my dream, I unearthed my pack from under a pile of food wrappers.
She dropped the moss she wove into her strands. “Wait. We’re not staying here five more days like Rebecca told us to?”
“Feel free to stay. I’m not.”
She scrambled for her own pack and crouched at the doorway, ready. She didn’t ask where we were headed. For the past couple days, I’d been hung up on the idea of getting back to that building near the village. She’d shrugged each time I’d shown her the bullet and explained why I needed to be there among the garbage and chipmunk-chewed wires...but even though she didn’t agree with me, my cousin was loyal. She wouldn’t let me go alone.
The vision of red stayed before me, more real than the cracker packs, water bottles, and the fire starter I shoved into my bag. My hands fumbled as I added bee repellant and blankets. God’s dream made it clear: I needed to quit hiding and get back into the trees. If something bloody was about to happen around Black Butte, it was my job to stop it. To stop red from flowing. Again.
“Do we leave a note?”
“I guess.” Wolfe, Jezebel, Rebecca, and Joshua would show up tonight like they did every night. As would Brooke and Hunter, who would share a few words about the results of scouting in the hills. Since Reed would recognize them the least, especially since Hunter had grown a beard, they had the freedom to explore in safety where the rest of us couldn’t.
I rummaged through the wooden crate that acted as our storage and our table and sometimes our chair when our backsides got fed up with the scratchy ground. I pulled out the pink pad of paper—a gift from Jezebel—and began to hunt for a square inch of unmarked surface to write a message on. But every miniscule space was crammed with Trinity’s overlapping sketches.
I tossed it back in and located our stubby knife instead. With its sharp edge, I gouged my message in the crate’s rough top. I kept it short.
Vision. Left. Be back.
Below the words, I scratched a long rectangle with squares for windows. My cousin’s feet scuffed as she turned away—no doubt finding it unbearable to watch me carve lopsided, jagged lines. But Wolfe would understand them.
Done.
I stood with the knife handle in my palm. Oddly, it felt right there. So, I slid this object, one I’d never before carried on a journey, into my pack.
“Now, Trinity. We’re ready to go.”
35
“Another campsite to our right, Trinity,” I breathed. “Veer to the left and up the slope.”
A nonbeliever wouldn’t haven’t recognized the vacant patch of dirt as a campsite since it appeared the same as the rest of the wilderness. But Christians survived by staying out of nonbelievers’ sights. My people knew how to make themselves—and their homes—invisible.
These campers betrayed themselves with subtle signs of camp life that were impossible to hide. Such as the unusual bare patches of ground where believers had brushed away footprints. Or the areas without dead bushes or sticks—removed to become fuel for cooking fires. The too-clean spots in nature caught my attention and told me how crowded the woods had really become.
But it didn’t tell me how many hidden pairs of eyes watched our steps.
Here was another trunk with four gouge marks. More evidence of a knife thrower in these parts. Sweat trickled down my spine.
Trinity’s head swiveled. She was eager, expectant.
I figured it was more likely we would stumble across the Benders’ camp—or one of their supporter’s—rather than one belonging to my brother and Micah, like she hoped. Especially since I’d sighted huge cat prints twice today. Yet I kept this stressful thought to myself and continued in the direction where the village and abandoned building waited.
“Dove, it’s getting dark.”
“Only another hundred yards or so. Keep going.”
“Someone’s up there. Should we—”
My jaw clenched. “Keep going.”
I saw the figure now too—a large bulk with a brimmed hat leaning against a boulder at the top of a shelf of dirt. I veered to the left, staying behind the ground’s natural rise. “Keep going. This way around.”
My heart hammered and weakness loosened my knees. I could not give up and turn back. The building’s crooked chimneys would come into view at any moment. And then the top floor windows. My eyes were eager to locate a crack in the boards and peer through the ruined glass panes.
My dream back in Sisters had revealed waterfalls of blood pouring from those windows, which meant there was someone in there. Maybe lots of someones. Maybe...could it be my family and the lost Christians?
Crackle-thud. A large person dropped down the overhang. His boots hit the dry sticks before us. Trinity gasped.
“Bull! What are you...why are you—”
“You shouldn’t be here, Dove. Not with the rest of them around. I knew you was a mule-headed girl, but I didn’t take you for a stupid one.” His low voice dropped. “It’s not too late. Go. Hightail it back to where you came from before the others see you. And here, take this back to your guy. I don’t want it on me.”
He thrust a book at me, and he whispered, “I got my own now. Smaller version. Can hide it in my boot.”
Trinity accepted the book.
I stepped closer. “Who else is around, Bull? You said others. What others are here?”
Feet sounded in the bushes—more than one pair—moving over the ground behind Bull. Were people at the building? Or further back, nearer the village?
Crack!
; We froze at the gunshot. With a grunt, Bull’s thick arm shot out and shoved me square in the chest.
36
I tumbled down the incline. Sharpness stung and scratched my flailing hands and arms. By the time I jammed to a stop inside a prickly juniper laced with nettles, Bull’s wide bulk had disappeared over the boulder on the hill’s crest.
Trinity skidded to a halt and reached around the nettles, searching for me.
I stood and began to move back up the incline, but her hands locked around my arms. “Sky alive, Dove. Did you knock your head and become braindead? You can’t go up there. Someone’s got a gun—you heard the shot.” Her strained voice became a hiss in my ear.
I twisted against her restraint. “But—”
“Stop. Think. Who has guns?”
I quit struggling.
In the distance, Bull bellowed. “Whoa, now!”
A different voice murmured an abrupt reply. In English? Or Amhebran? I leaned toward the slope. If only I could see past the earth in my way. Who spoke? Who else was up there?
A throb started in my wrist, worse than the nettle stings. It was Trinity death-gripping my healing arm and trying to get my attention.
“What, Trinity? What?”
“I said think. Who has guns? That Commander Reed guy does. And idiot Christians like him. And the Heathen—fine, nonbelievers, who hunt believers. In other words, murderous humans have guns. So why would we go racing up there to our suicides?”
“Because our moms are there. Stuck in that building.”
Trinity blinked and released my arms. The sun’s light had faded and her gray irises appeared charcoal. I dropped my gaze first. Of course, she didn’t believe me. She’d heard my theory about that building a hundred times the last few days, and she didn’t agree. No one did...except Jezebel.
She nodded. “OK.”
My lungs released air in a gush. She believes me. But when I tried to move past and up the incline, she immobilized me with her words. “God doesn’t want us up there now.”
Trinity never lied. Which meant...with her newly recognized gift, I had to believe that God didn’t want us at that building tonight. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard.
The messy sounds up the slope had stopped. The way could be safe now. And I could sneak up there and find out if my conviction was correct.
“OK, Trinity. You lead...wherever you think.”
“We go back. To Sisters.”
It took all my strength not to stomp my feet into the bracken as we backtracked. The darkness grew, making it impossible to tell if the trees were familiar. Smoke tainted the air. Christians were nearby—believers bold enough to announce their presence with campfires. Other Sent?
“What do you think, Dove. Stop here for tonight?”
I peered into the shadows, trying to make out signs of other campers. The earth rose between the trees in a natural mound, good protection at our backs. Plenty of untouched forest debris covered the ground.
I flopped down and chugged water. It was better to hunker down between earth and bushes than risk tromping blindly into a group of—possibly unfriendly—knife-throwers in an attempt to reach Sisters tonight.
A wisp of laughter reached us. And a faded “Arookhaw”—the Amhebran word for dinner.
I nibbled a peanut butter cracker. Trinity’s white shirt with rainbow splotches seemed to glow in the darkness. Why hadn’t she accepted Brooke and Rebecca’s offer of earth-tone garments? There was a pile of them in a box in the van. At least one shirt must have fit.
I pulled my brown cap lower over my blonde strands and hugged my tunic from Wolfe.
Was it only a few days ago we’d hiked these same woods? With Wolfe at my side, the forest had been sunlight and whistling. Doughnuts and laughter. Safety. A warm sensation in my gut.
But no, it was good Wolfe wasn’t here now. Because with a knife-thrower camping nearby, it wasn’t safe for a nonbeliever in these hills tonight. It wasn’t even safe for Christians who wore nonbelievers’ clothes.
More snatches of Amhebran echoed...then began to rise and fall. Singing. I strained my ears. The same song I’d heard long ago on the side of Mount Jefferson hovered in the night.
No. Nonbelievers like Wolfe shouldn’t be in these woods tonight.
I sat up straight. What about Bull? He hadn’t been shot...but he’d shouted at someone. Who had been nearby? Someone with a gun? Someone who’d hurt him?
Goosebumps pricked my arms, and I curled up with my chin on my knees. Despite Trinity’s warning, I’d assumed the shooter was an armed, jumpy city dweller who’d been startled by a raccoon or chipmunk.
But what if the trigger-happy human was a nonbeliever who held Christians against their will in that cement building? And Bull had confronted the person?
Or the gunman was a Christian—a believer like my brother or the unknown knife thrower—who’d taken possession of a gun. The shooter could be someone who acted out in hate, who clung to Reed’s lies that God wanted us to take back our country by violence.
If Bull had run into that sort of Christian, he might be wounded now. Or...
I hugged my knees tighter. It was good Wolfe wasn’t here.
“Here. It’ll make a decent pillow.” Trinity handed me the book from Bull and curled up on her side to sleep.
A Bible. My fingers traced the large letters engraved on its floppy cover.
I shook my head. Bull had given me a Bible. Correction, he’d returned the Bible that Wolfe had given him the other day when I thought he’d been handing out packaged cheese.
The van...Wolfe turning pages during that long ride. Reading God’s Word.
A joyful geyser bubbled up inside of me, but I stamped it down like a gopher hole in the garden. Just because Wolfe looked at a Bible once didn’t make him a Christian.
I rolled on my back and talked to God about it for a while. I must have fallen asleep, because suddenly the blushing moon shone overhead. An animal snuffled a few yards to the south of where Trinity continued to breathe softly.
I eased the floppy binding off my stomach and located my knife.
When the coolness of morning broke, the handle’s outline left a red indent in my palm. The first sunbeams illuminated a large paw mark in the loose dirt next to our packs.
A cat’s? I moved toward it and froze.
“Shalom.”
I whipped up my knife and pointed it. The speaker—a stranger in rags— balanced on the mound of dirt next to where Trinity slept.
37
My toe nicked Trinity awake. I withdrew from the spot where three other ragged figures had appeared. Their pale faces peered at me, squinting as if the soft morning light stung.
My cousin found her feet and skittered away from them.
“They’re Christian moles, Trinity.” Even if they hadn’t just emerged from a dugout on the edge of my campsite, I would have recognized them as humans who lived under the earth’s crust. Believers in burrows, who possessed waxy skin that’d never seen sunlight. Plus, their clothes were caked with soil, and they sniffed the air as if its freshness was foreign to them.
I held my weapon high. With my other hand, I groped for my pack and fallen hat.
My downward glance fell on my outstretched arms with my inked sword and shield, to my tunic and the breastplate outline and woven belt.
The object I scooped up wasn’t a hat but a helmet. Because I wore armor. God’s armor.
I lowered my weapon. I wouldn’t fight. I wouldn’t run and hide.
God, You want me here in the trees? Fine, here I am.
I nodded. “Uh...hi. Shalom.”
The woman in the far back gripped the pronged branch.
Plastic rustled. Trinity’s hands emerged from her pack holding cellophane-covered packets. “Crackers, anyone?”
The oldest male who’d greeted me now nodded. He didn’t smile, but at least his hands unfisted. “Yes. Please. The berries and insects in this region are very limited. Is this where we were m
eant to make camp for the prayer rally?”
“I couldn’t tell you.”
The crackers went around. The six of us settled on the pine needles, and the moles studied their squares as if they’d never seen crackers before.
I bumped my cousin. “Just so you know, we’re not running away anymore.”
She grinned up at the orange sunrise filtering through the branches and tapped the lion’s profile decorating her shoulder. “We’ll be lions.”
“Lions? What—”
“You remember. Those who don’t know God run. But those who do right by Him are brave—have no fear...are as bold as lions. Maybe you should read some of that Bible yourself before returning it to your guy.”
I swallowed my retort that she was becoming her dad, spouting Bible verses. I bent to pick up the book but straightened.
Stone Bender clutched a nearby pine trunk and stared at me.
My remaining cracker hit the dirt. The blood drained from my head while my mouth opened to squeak, run. But I’d promised Trinity we wouldn’t run.
He stepped forward. “Dove? You’re...you’re alive. Melody said you would be. But I didn’t think you’d...made it.”
I stood. “And you didn’t kill Rebecca.”
His beard jerked up at the unexpected words I’d blurted. “No, but how...how do you know about her? Did God—”
“It’s not too late, Stone. Leave your brother and be your own person. You hate his plans, so why not make a better choice?”
“Can’t.”
His hand rested on my shoulder, though I hadn’t noticed him moving toward me. I squinted up at him and recognized something. Something that made me breathe faster.
A year ago, I’d wondered if he was the person I would someday marry. I’d thought, at the time, I was drawn to him because he was a male from the Christian mold I was familiar with—strong, serious, bearded.
But then he had betrayed me.
Yet now...
I held my fist over my thumping heart as if to keep it in place. Because I recognized the truth. It wasn’t just his strength that once drew me. It was his good heart. Sure, he had tried to follow his brother’s sinful orders and hurt me. But his goodness kept him from being successful, the proof being I still lived.
