Imprints

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  I didn’t answer. There was no time, and I didn’t have much voice left anyway. I fled toward the door, averting my eyes from the place where Dar had been shot.

  Outside, chaos reigned. Instead of men arguing for the freedom of their leader as I’d expected, everyone milled about in confusion, staring with horror as fire devoured the singles’ house, the men’s side almost completely engulfed in flames. A dozen or so of the men were running with buckets of water toward the burning house. I couldn’t see Jake or Shannon anywhere. Ethan was also missing. Screams sounded from inside the house. I couldn’t tell if they came from the men’s or the women’s side.

  “Make a line to the well!” Scarlet bellowed, striding across the square. “We have to get this fire out before it takes everything!” She pushed people into place as her bulk hurtled toward the well at the far side of the square. Menashe, Blade, and several others ran after her with buckets.

  More screams. Two women emerged, coughing, from the women’s side of the house.

  Where was Jake? I hoped he was helping to put out the fire and not inside playing hero.

  I turned to Spring and Tawnia, who’d followed me out of the house. “You two tell Bret and Essence to find Jake and Shannon and get them to the barn.”

  “What are you going to do?” Tawnia’s fingers dug into my shoulders.

  “I’m going to help Marcie.”

  “No!”

  Looking at her was like gazing into a mirror; my terror was written plainly on her face. “Tawnia, if I don’t go, two women are going to die. I have to warn them. What else can we do?”

  Several long seconds passed, and then her jaw set. “Go, then.” I knew how much it cost her to say that.

  “Okay. But you be careful, too.” I reached out and laid a hand on her stomach, taut with the baby inside. Our eyes met, and we both nodded, the connection between us so strong that our wills were indistinguishable.

  “You’ll never get there in time,” Spring said. “He was gone before I came inside.”

  “I’ve got to try. Just make sure Bret finds Shannon and Jake.”

  I went back into the house, through the meeting room, and out the front door. They’d laid Dar inside the meeting room, and I tried not to glance at the sheet-covered mound as I passed. At least he was covered, unlike his poor, betrayed brother in the dark, musty cellar.

  Out the front door and to the trees. Sure enough, the motorcycle Jake had stashed was there, not hard to find at all if you knew what to look for. The wires he’d used to bypass the key system were exposed and ready to rejoin. It started on the first try.

  Now if I just remembered how to drive a two-wheeler.

  Riding a motorcycle is a lot like driving a car, except for the balancing thing. Worse, shifting gears on a bike can be very painful in bare feet. Too late now. I gritted my teeth and shifted to second, third, fourth, my foot protesting numbly at the abuse. I almost wiped out twice before I got to the moonlit dirt road that led past the houses, through the trees, and to the main barn. The route was much faster than walking, but unless Ethan had returned to his van first, he had a good head start.

  The unmuffled roar of the bike would warn Ethan of my approach. I wanted to believe my presence would make a difference to what he planned to do, but the truth was that Ethan had played me from the start. I thought now of all the instances where he had urged me on in this search, backing off only as I fell into step with his will. His fake concern was all too apparent now, and I felt like an idiot for falling into his trap. A man who’d really cared for me would never have put me at such risk. Days earlier I’d wondered how Shannon could like me while at the same time suspecting me, but at least his eyes were open to what I might be. Ethan had completely fooled me.

  Had he ever cared at all?

  It didn’t matter. In fact, I felt much less devastated than I probably should after the way he had used me. Maybe that was because when all was said and done, what I felt for Jake was so much more than any romantic notions I’d manufactured about Ethan.

  I wished now I’d listened to Marcie more carefully when she had protested the mention of Ethan’s name in the cellar, instead of chalking it up to her insanity. One thing was certain: I didn’t save Marcie once to let her fall into his hands now.

  Would I be in time? Or was he at this moment strangling poor, helpless Marcie? Or would he use the big gun he’d shown us at Tawnia’s?

  I was going so fast that when I came upon a dip in the dark road, I nearly wrecked the bike. My ribs screamed with pain at the jolt, but I held my seat. Barely.

  The barn was in sight. I should have cut the power and run the rest of the way, but I suspected Ethan had already heard me if he was there, and I wasn’t in shape for running. So I drove all the way up to the door of the barn and cut the engine. The sudden silence was deafening.

  I took a painful breath that brought tears to my eyes as I covered the few steps to the open door. The lights inside the barn were on. Ethan was here. I had to do something quick and loud.

  I jogged across the short space to the ladder leading to the hayloft and started climbing. “Harmony?” I called hoarsely. “Hey, the police are here, and we’re going to get Marcie to the hospital. You won’t believe everything that’s hap—”

  A figure loomed at the top of the ladder. Ethan. I realized I should have kept my mouth shut and tried to sneak up behind him. Too late for that.

  I decided innocence was my best defense. “There you are. Everyone’s looking all over for you. They’ll be here in a minute to help us with Marcie.”

  “You touched the bottles, didn’t you?” he asked without expression.

  I stopped climbing. “What are you talking about?” My voice had a hateful little quiver at the end, one I didn’t think he’d attribute to my being choked.

  “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from teaching math, it’s logic. I think you touched the bottles and you learned something you shouldn’t have. Everyone was busy with the fire, so you came yourself. Now get up here.”

  I took a step down the ladder.

  “Up!” His hand pointed down at me, and I saw the glint of a gun barrel.

  “You weren’t being held in the van all this time, were you?” I said, stalling for time. “You didn’t even try to contact the police.”

  “Bingo! I was waiting for an opportunity to catch Dar alone—which I did shortly before you showed up.”

  “Why?”

  “To offer him money to make sure Marcie never left here, of course. The idiot would have followed through if you hadn’t ruined things.”

  “But you were tied up!”

  “Only until he brought me proof of her death and I could pay him. Shut up now and start climbing.”

  I considered diving off the ladder, tucking and rolling out of his range. Even the idea made my ribs ache.

  “Don’t even think about it.” He pushed the gun a few more inches in my direction. “I’ve had a whole year to practice. I’m really good. Better than I ever was at teaching math.”

  “Why did you really leave the college?” Certainly not to find Marcie.

  “I was fired. That’s what happens when you date coeds and come to work after staying out all night.” His shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “I hated that job, anyway. I shouldn’t have had to work at all.”

  “You mean if Marcie hadn’t taken your money.”

  “If you don’t get up here in two seconds, I will shoot you.”

  So I climbed up the rest of the ladder. His hand closed over my sore right wrist, yanking me the last few inches. “Ow,” I said. The bandage on his own arm had a bright spot of red leaking through, but he didn’t seem fazed by the wound.

  “Wearing his jacket, I see.”

  I almost laughed. “Jealous?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “I thought we had something. A connection.” Not a lie, at least not the first part.

  He stepped close, bringing a hand up to trace my jaw. A tender tou
ch that yesterday would have brought hope. But not now. His eyes hardened. “Sorry, Autumn, you’re just one more pretty face. The only connection we had was your ability to find my sister. If I’d had any idea one of the leaders here was a crook, I’d have bribed him a long time ago and you wouldn’t have been necessary.” He pushed me in the direction of the bales of hay, where I knew Marcie was hidden. I felt sick. Had he already killed them? The bare wood of the nearly empty loft reminded me somehow of a huge coffin.

  We rounded the bales, and I saw Harmony first, her body curled face down on the thin layer of hay on the floor. Blood matted the back of her hair, but she was breathing. Behind her Marcie was awake and half sitting, propped awkwardly against a bale of hay. The ragged bundle of pretend baby was no longer in her arms.

  “Please, Ethan,” she said. “Why are you doing this? I left you everything. Wasn’t that enough?”

  “You gave these people money.”

  “That was mine and Rubin’s. I didn’t take your father’s.”

  “I can’t get at it. Not unless you’re dead or you sign it over to me.”

  “I’ll sign it over. I don’t want the money!”

  “Sorry. You won’t be leaving here, dear sister.” He barked a strangled laugh. “And I’ve made sure the cult won’t collect on any contract you might have signed.”

  He’d talked about the fire before, but only now did things click into place. “You started the fire!” I accused.

  He smiled. “It’ll spread to all the buildings. They’re so close.”

  I tried not to think about Tawnia. Surely she and Bret would get to safety.

  “Please, Ethan,” Marcie begged. “I’ll do anything.”

  “Even if I believed you, it’s too late.”

  “You won’t get away with this,” I said. “The others know I came here and why.”

  “It’ll be my firsthand account against their conjectures.” Ethan nearly spat the words. “Because in the end, I’ll be honored for trying to find you, for trying to stop Harmony from killing you after you discovered that she had killed Marcie to protect her secret lover, Dar, from going to prison, not knowing that her estranged husband had already killed him.”

  A gasp came from Harmony, who was turning over on the floor. “Is Gabe okay?”

  “What does it matter?” Ethan sneered, With a grunt, he pushed me toward the other women. I tripped over Harmony’s feet and fell with a force that made my ribs burn.

  Ethan brought up the gun with a steady hand. His face was no longer handsome but contorted with greed and hatred. His fingers began to contract.

  I dived forward and to the side, and the bullet slammed into the floor where I had been. Harmony’s scream sounded like the grating of metal on wood. On hands and knees, I scrambled away, drenched in fire that emanated from my rib cage. I’d cleared the hay bales, which left Ethan behind me, but I didn’t see how I could make it to the ladder and down before he finished with the others and came after me. Darkness from the pain in my ribs was already beginning to fill my vision.

  No, that was the hayloft door—now halfway open and revealing the dark night outside. Gabe emerged through the gap, and almost before I registered his presence, he was hurtling toward me, rounding the bales of hay, and leaping at Ethan, who had the gun pointed at Harmony. Gabe still had handcuffs on both wrists, and dangling from one was a piece of broken chair.

  The men struggled for the gun, falling down to the wooden floor with a loud noise. Over and over they rolled. I crawled toward them, wondering what I could do to help.

  “No, Gabe,” Harmony moaned.

  I pulled myself to my feet. One step, then another. What could I could use against Ethan? Desperately, I searched, finding nothing but bales of hay that I couldn’t lift on a good day, much less in my weakened condition.

  The gun went off. This time there was no sound of the bullet hitting the ground. I stood frozen, Harmony’s sobs the only sound in the sudden stillness.

  Ethan climbed to his feet, leaving Gabe sprawled on the floor, hands over his chest, blood spreading under his fingers. Harmony crawled toward him.

  Ethan aimed again at Harmony’s head. I hurled myself at him, my sight momentarily blanking with pain. He fell backward under me but didn’t lose his grip on the gun. His fingers latched onto my hair, forcing my head back. I felt the coldness of the gun barrel between us, digging into the soft flesh under my chin. He wrenched me off him onto the floor, the gun still against my throat. I couldn’t move for the fire in my chest. Couldn’t breathe. All my chances were gone.

  A shot rang out. I closed my eyes and stopped breathing.

  Ethan’s body went limp over me. I took another breath.

  “Autumn?” Shannon’s voice, coming from the direction of the hayloft ladder. In seconds he was there, rolling Ethan off me. “Are you okay?” His voice was scarcely a whisper. Fingers pressed up against my throat as he checked for a pulse.

  I forced my eyes open. His face was streaked with soot, and he smelled like fire. His eyes reminded me of the green-blue of the ocean on a cloudy day. “A cloudy day, not a yellow one,” I murmured. His face was moving, the features whirling together. I wondered if I was going to throw up.

  “Is she hurt?” It was Jake’s anxious voice moving rapidly toward us.

  I turned in his direction with a small cry. He was safe! He was here! He knelt next to Shannon, and after a few moments, my eyes managed to focus on his face. Like the detective, Jake had been fighting the fire, and his already dark face was blackened with soot. Worry lined his brow, the deep furrows broken by an oozing gash that would likely need stitches. No doubt he’d been playing hero at the burning house.

  “Pulse is strong, but she’s incoherent,” Shannon said. “She might be in shock.” The space of a few heartbeats passed before Shannon arose, conceding his place to Jake. “Try to keep her warm.” Without a backward glance, he crossed to help Harmony with Gabe.

  “Are you bleeding?” Jake asked, kneeling over me. “Did he shoot you?” His fear was palpable.

  I managed a tiny smile. “Do you mean Shannon or Ethan?”

  Jake gave a disgusted grunt and began peeling back the leather jacket, searching for signs of injury. I groaned and pushed his hands away. “Nothing hurts too bad—except my ribs. Don’t touch them.”

  He gathered me gingerly in his arms, the soot on his face running with tears and blood from his cut. For a long moment he just held me. I wanted to look into his eyes, to see what secrets they might tell, but exhaustion took me. I closed my eyes and drifted for a moment. As long as I didn’t move or breathe too deeply, I could stay here forever.

  “How did Gabe get away?” I asked finally, forcing my eyes open. It hurt worse than before to speak.

  “Tawnia and Spring broke his chair and let him go. They were afraid Bret wouldn’t find me in time.”

  “He saved us.”

  “We were still almost too late.”

  “But you weren’t.”

  He nodded and stroked my cheek with his finger.

  Several yards away, Harmony’s sobs grew louder, becoming violent, choking sounds. “Oh, Gabe. No! You can’t die! Don’t leave me! Please!”

  But he did.

  Still on his knees, Shannon set a hand on her shoulder as she wept over her husband. Nothing more, just that hand on her shoulder to let her know someone was there. I bit my bottom lip and clung to Jake for a long time until the first fingers of dawn began trickling though the hayloft door.

  Life had changed irrevocably for all of us.

  The next few hours were busy getting Marcie treated and onto the chopper, the bodies cleared away, and the last of the fire put out. Ethan had been wrong about that. Under Scarlet’s competent direction, the residents of the farm managed to save the other two houses and were already planning to rebuild the one they’d lost.

  Another chopper was coming, and this one would carry Tawnia, Bret, Jake, and me back to Portland, where I’d been ordered by Shannon to
check into a hospital. Later a bus would arrive at the farm for anyone else who wanted to leave.

  Spring came to say good-bye to me in the kitchen, where Tawnia had fixed me a breakfast of bacon and eggs and milk, knowing that I was ravenous despite my injuries.

  “Aren’t you going back to Portland?” I asked, as Spring sat beside me. I was reduced to whispering now, and deep bruises were appearing on my throat.

  She shook her head. “I’ve decided to stay, at least for now. Harmony needs help, and with Victoria gone, Scarlet could use someone in the kitchen.” She smiled and lowered her voice. “Besides, Harmony promised to pay an attorney to help me settle things with Jimmy.”

  “You sure?”

  She hesitated. “I can’t leave her. She’s lost so much, and no one really understands what she’s going through. Not really.”

  I knew what she meant. Harmony’s soul had been entwined with that of her husband. Her terrible grief was etched on her face, aging it by ten years. Every trace of playfulness was gone. Even so, she had risen to the occasion, walking among her people, bestowing a touch, a kind word, letting them know the farm—their home—would go on for as long as they wanted.

  “Harmony is renaming the place Harmony Farming Co-op,” Spring said. “They’ll need a nurse, and I’ve been thinking that as long as I can get my allergies under control, I might get some training and see what happens. I’m also going to talk to my mother. I’ll keep in touch, though.”

  I blinked back tears. “You’d better.” We hugged, careful of my newly wrapped ribs and sore wrist. Little Jim, ever in his mother’s arms, gave my hair a parting yank.

  As Spring left, Jake strode into the kitchen. He’d washed his face and his forehead had been bandaged, and he looked as handsome as ever. “The helicopter’s here.”

  “Finally! I’ll go get Bret.” Tawnia disappeared into the hall.

  “Do you want me to carry you?” Jake asked, helping me to my feet.

  I’d been able to walk from the barn to the farm’s van, but my injuries had been fresher and less painful then. Now every inch of me throbbed with hurt. If Scarlet hadn’t wrapped a clean stretch of cloth around my chest, I probably would have needed a stretcher. “Might be a good idea.”