Underground

by Gayle O'Brien

  He appeared in the doorway, as white as a cloud. Annie noticed his ripped cargo pants and the bloody scratches on his shins.

  “Jenna, you need to go home.”

  “Why?” said Annie. “We’re just about to go out.”

  “I’m sorry, Jenna. You’ve done nothing wrong. I just need to talk to my daughter in private. She’ll meet you at your house when we’re finished.”

  Jenna gave Annie a look that said, “I don’t know what you’ve done, but it looks like you’re in big trouble for something.” Annie saw Jenna to the door, then found her father in his office, turning on the computer. She crossed her arms, bracing to find out what crime she’d unknowingly committed.

  Instead he said: “I just witnessed a murder.”

  He’d been coming down the mountain. Having misjudged the timing of sundown and forgetting to pack extra batteries for his flashlight, he felt his way to the bottom in the dark. He realized he’d gone too far west and had overshot his truck by at least half a mile, so doubled back. But he got that wrong, too, and had a few moments of panic. Then he heard voices. He walked towards them, hoping that whoever it was would give directions to the parking lot. As he got closer, he recognized the caves he and Sanchez had found the previous week. In front of one was a four-wheeler with a trailer, its light shining on a man and a woman. He was about to shout out to them when he saw the man raise a gun. The woman began crying, saying words in Spanish that her father couldn’t understand. A shot was fired, the woman swayed, but did not fall. Her father reached for his camera and started taking a rapid succession of photos, too shaken to take his time and too frightened to do anything but hit the shutter over and over and over. The man fired the gun again and the woman finally fell to the ground.

  Then Annie’s father ran, not thinking to gather his camping pack and hiking equipment. He just held his camera and ran as fast as he could, tripping over stumps and plowing through brambles. Once he reached his truck, he dropped the keys twice. On the frantic ride home, he ran three red lights.

  Annie watched her father extract the memory card from the camera and insert it into the computer’s USB drive. The photos began to appear, first her father’s usual snapshots of birds and raccoons, close-ups on wild rhododendrons, and rivers reflecting the sky above. Then came another set, showing dark, shadowy photographs of a poorly lit figure.

  “I don’t have time to go through these,” he said, rifling through his desk drawer, “so I need you to do something for me.” He handed her three memory sticks.

  “Copy all the photos onto each of these. Put two in your pocket. Hide the other one, in one of the plants by the pool or something. Somewhere they won’t find it, but that will be easy for me to get. Then I need you to erase them off my camera card and my hard-drive. Can you do that?”

  “Dad, I don’t understand. Why am I doing this?”

  “Because,” her father said, his eyes squinting at the computer screen, “of that.”

  He pointed to one of the dark photos and his finger landed on the round patch on the figure’s arm. Annie watched as her father zoomed in. The letters that appeared were fuzzy, but unmistakable: Robert Sanchez, Virginia State Police.

  “Where’s your mother?”

  “At Jenna’s.”

  “Once you’re done copying the photos I want you to go there too. Tell your mother that I need you two to stay there until I get back. And please, please don’t tell her anything yet.”

  “Dad, you’re scaring me.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sure it’s all a big mistake. I need to go to the police station. And then I have to talk to Rob.”

  She followed him to the front door, then watched his truck pull away, all the while trying to ignore the feeling that, somehow, their life would never be the same again.

  “What do you mean we can’t be in the house?” said her mother.

  “Just until he gets back,” said Annie.

  “Where did he go?”

  “I’m not really sure.”

  “It’s not a problem,” said Jenna’s mother. “If he’s not back by 11, why don’t you two stay here?”

  Annie slept on the floor in Jenna’s room, ignoring Jenna sulking that their plans for the evening had been thwarted. It was two in the morning when Annie heard a car outside. She got up and peered out the window expecting to see her father’s truck. Instead, it was a state police car. Annie held onto the windowsill for support as she watched a lone police officer enter her house, smoking a cigarette and carrying a small duffle bag. He emerged five minutes later with nothing. As soon as his car was out of sight, she ran to the guest room and shook her mother awake.

  “Mom, something’s wrong.”

  She pulled her groggy mother down the stairs and out of the Jennna’s house just as her father’s truck pulled in the driveway.

  “What are you two doing?” he said, jumping out of the cab.

  “Where the hell have you been?” her mother yelled.

  “Dad, a policeman was just here. He went into the house.”

  “Did you see his face?”

  “No, it was too dark. But Dad, I’m pretty sure it was him.”

  “Did he come out with anything?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I did everything you said.”

  “What are you talking about?” her mother said.

  “I knew something wasn’t right,” said her father. “They kept me there too long.”

  “Who did?”

  “The police.” He approached the house. “I want you two to wait in my truck.”

  “What are you going to do?” said Annie.

  “I’m going to see what that bastard’s done to our house.”

  Annie pulled her mother into the truck. They watched her father enter the house and disappear into its darkness.

  “What the hell is going on?” her mother said.

  “I don’t know.”

  “If he’s not back in ten minutes I’m going in. I’ll be useless tomorrow if I don’t get at least six hours sleep.”

  “Mom, I don’t think …” Annie started, but did not finish. Her father had thrown open the door and run out carrying his old brown suitcase. He was barely clear when the house behind him erupted into flames and he was thrust to the ground. Annie and her mother screamed. He scrambled to his feet, threw the suitcase in the truck and screeched out of their driveway.

  “Oh my God! Oh my God!” her mother screeched. “Our house! What just happened to our house?”

  “Dad?” said Annie, trying not to cry.

  Her father concentrated on the road as he sped out of their neighborhood and raced down the highway towards the Blue Ridge Mountains.

  Her mother grew hysterical. “You tell me what’s going on right now or so help me I will divorce you as sure as the sun rises.”

  “I knew I couldn’t trust them,” he finally said.

  “Where are we going?” Annie asked.

  Her father didn’t answer. He just kept his eyes on the road.

  Half an hour later he pulled into the parking lot at the base of the mountain. A single street lamp burned above a pay phone. Her father jumped out of the truck. Annie watched him pull a piece of paper out of his front pocket and copy something off the pay phone.

  “Here,” he said, handing it to Annie through the window.

  “What the hell is that?” said her mother.

  “This is the safest way to reach me. I can’t promise I’ll always answer it, but it’s the only thing I can think of right now.”

  “What do you mean, reach you? Where are you going?”

  He motioned to the mountains.

  “All my camping stuff is still up there. I’m going to lay low for a while until I can figure out what the hell is going on. Then I’m going to nail this son of a bitch and everyone in the police force who’s helping him.”

  “And what about us?” her mother screamed. “Our house just exploded right in front of us. Where the hell do you expect us to go
?”

  “I need you to drive,” he said. “Drive until you run out of gas, then abandon the truck. Travel by bus, train, whatever, but stay low and keep your heads down. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come back.”

  “To come back? I’m not going anywhere. This is our home. This is our life and I’ll be damned if …”

  “Don’t you get it? Sanchez killed someone tonight. He knows I have photographic evidence. That’s why he just tried to kill us. It’s not safe for any of us to be anywhere near here.”

  “But …” her mother started.

  “He’ll figure out soon enough that none of us were in the house when it caught fire and then he’ll come after us. Now, I need you to do as I say and get the hell out of here. There’s over $10,000 in the brown suitcase. That should last a while if you’re careful. Sweetheart, do you have the memory stick?”

  Annie reached into her pocket and handed it to him. “The second one is where you told me to put it. What do I do with the third one?”

  “Keep it. Just in case.”

  “In case of what?”

  He looked at Annie and her mother. His voice cracked as he spoke. “Take good care of each other. I love you both. And I’m so, so sorry.”

  He disappeared into the woods.

  That was the last time Annie saw him. Until today.

  Annie hugged him tight. He felt thin and weary, and looked ten years older than when she’d last seen him. But he was still unmistakably her father.

  “I don’t understand,” she said. “What are you doing here? How did you get here?”

  He held her arms tight. Too tight. “I’m here because I had no choice. How could you run off like that? Your mother and I were worried sick.”

  Annie looked at her mother. She did not meet Annie’s eyes. “I didn’t run off. And I left a note.”

  Her father held the piece of paper in his hand and read from it. “‘Be back tonight. Promise.’ What kind of an explanation is that?”

  “Look, I had something I had to do. And I am back.”

  Her father threw his hands into the air. “Your mother thought he’d got you. That’s why she called me. She took a big risk tracking me down, and I’ve taken a huge risk coming here.”

  Annie crossed her arms. “Well, he didn’t get me. I left a note. What else do you want from me?”

  “You should know better. Now where were you?”

  “None of your business.”

  “It is my business! You know Sanchez’s network is all over the country. I need to know where you were so I can have some kind of idea if he knows we’re here.”

  Annie felt her neck muscles clenching around her throat. “He might.”

  Her father pursed his lips. “Tell me.”

  Annie looked at her mother for help. She provided none.

  “I went to Virginia.”

  For the first time in her life, she thought her father might hit her.

  “Why the hell would you do that?”

  “I’m trying to find out more about a girl who wrote a letter in 1861 and never sent it.”

  “What?” said her father.

  “I found it in the basement. The bottom two steps of the basement stairs are actually an entrance to a small room. The letter was in there.”

  “What?” said her mother, sitting forward.

  “Not now,” said her father. “You expect me to believe that any of this justifies what you’ve done?”

  “Go downstairs and have a look for yourself.”

  “That is not the point! Going anywhere for any reason, not least of all Virginia, was incredibly irresponsible of you.”

  She knew he was right, but the rage directed at her felt wrong. No one ever asked her to be responsible, yet she’d been nothing but over the past year. She had moved when she was told, never mind all she’d done without being told. She kept herself and her mother hidden, and alive – all while torturing the man who’d ruined their lives. She did it because she knew if he was edgy, he’d be more likely to slip up. No one thanked her for any of this.

  “You want to talk about responsibility, Dad? Who do you think has been taking care of Mom all this time?”

  Her father waved the idea away. “Your mother doesn’t need taking care of.”

  “Look at her, Dad! She never gets off that couch! I’m the one who packs up every time we have to move. I’m the one who makes sure we get to wherever we end up and unpacks when we get there. I clean the house. I don’t go to school because someone has to stay here and keep an eye on her.”

  “It’s true,” her mother whispered.

  Her father collapsed into the chair behind him. “Look, it won’t be like this forever. We’re almost there.” He pulled a large manila folder out from behind the couch. “Here are all of my photos. See for yourself. I’ve almost got enough.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I found a clean contact at the FBI. I was about to send him everything I’ve got when your mother phoned me in complete hysterics.”

  “So now this is my fault?”

  “No, it’s not your fault, honey.” Her father sighed. “I promise, this will soon be over.”

  Annie had lost count of how many times this promise had been made. “I don’t believe you,” she said.

  “Well, that’s your problem.”

  “You don’t know anything …” she started. Then she stopped. No one but she and Sanchez knew about the emails. It was best to keep it that way. But her parents needed to know about the state trooper in Virginia. They needed to know he’d taken her learner’s permit, and that it was only a matter of time before Sanchez knew they were hiding in Battenkill. It wouldn’t take long. They needed to leave here, now.

  Samantha’s words appeared in her head. I have changed, Father. I am certain you would not like what you would see if you were here. I have had my eyes opened to the real workings of the world, in all its cruelty and wonder.

  No, Annie decided. I’m not leaving Battenkill.

  She turned towards the door. Her father stood.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I need to clear my head.”

  He grabbed her arm. “You know you can’t leave.”

  “Let me go.”

  “It’s not safe for you here anymore. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

  “I actually like it here. I didn’t think I’d like anywhere that wasn’t Virginia, but here is different. I’ve met someone and I’m not leaving him. I’m staying.”

  “Dammit, it’s not up to you.”

  Annie kicked him square in the shin with the steel toe of her cowboy boots. He doubled over in pain. Before he had time to recover, Annie bolted out the door and ran as fast as she could down the dark road.

  All the windows at the Store at Five Corners were dark except for Theo’s bedroom on the top floor. Annie rang the doorbell and tried to calm her breathing.

  Theo answered the door. His plaid shirt was untucked and his feet were bare. A relaxed sleepiness had settled on his face. He seemed surprised to see her. She was surprised to be there.

  “Is your father here?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Your brothers?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” She stepped across the threshold and closed the door. Then she kissed Theo with a passion and urgency that made her forget everything she should or shouldn’t do.

  Chapter 22

  Samantha could not feel her toes. Her arm had fallen asleep an hour ago. The muscles on the right side of her neck were pulled so taut she feared they might snap. For three hours she and Amira lay crammed into a small compartment embedded in the undercarriage of a delivery wagon. Odus and Wool were in a similar compartment in the wagon behind. It was impossible to move, and Samantha could do nothing but ignore the itch on her foot, the aches in her sides, and the sweat as it trespassed down her face and soaked her undergarments. Her throat was so dry she couldn’t clear it, not that she would have anyway: Moses had impress
ed upon them the absolute need for silence.

  “I been caught enough times I could tell you tales that would make your skin crawl,” she’d said. “You think they bad to slaves on the plantation? That ain’t nothin’ compared to what they do to you if they catch you.”

  How many hours had they been traveling? Without a view to the sun and its movements, Samantha couldn’t be sure of the time of day or the distance they’d covered. All she could hear were the creaking wheels of the wagon and Moses singing. “I sing when we okay. If I stop, we ain’t.”

  They’d left Jem’s cabin that morning in a whirl of confusion. When Moses had opened the compartment and instructed them to get inside, Samantha waited for Jem to help her into the wagon seat.

  “Sorry, Miss Weston,” he said, “but I’m afraid you’re going to have to ride in the compartment with Amira.”

  “I don’t understand?”

  “I heard of you before I got here,” said Moses. “You as wanted as Odus and Amira.”

  “Why?” she said, even though she knew the answer.

  “Depends on who’s talking. Some say you wanted for running with two fugitives. Another say you kidnapped. Someone else said you wanted for murder. Now, I don’t need to know which one it is, but I do need you to ride hidden.”

  Moses told them they would be convoying for at least ten days, maybe more. She wanted to reach a station just over the border from Massachusetts. “If we lucky,” she’d said. There she would leave them to continue their journey with another conductor.

  On their first day of travel, they stopped once for food, water and a chance to release tired muscles. All except for Amira stood and stretched; Amira sat against the trunk of a large oak tree. Samantha heard her take a sharp, quick breath. She knelt down.

  “What is it?” Samantha whispered.

  “It nothing, Miss Sammy …” she said. No sooner had she spoken when her face winced in pain.

  Samantha called Moses over.

  “There’s a blanket under my seat,” said Moses. “I need you to get it for me.”

  As Samantha got the blanket, she saw Odus and Wool standing by their wagon. Odus’ eyes caught hers, and she blushed before looking away.