by Sharon Sala
Once Charlie was back behind the wheel, he glanced up in the rearview mirror.
“Are you ready to talk to your mother now?”
Jordan nodded.
He pulled up Tara’s number and made the call, then handed her the phone. As he drove, he heard the tone of Jordan’s voice change from the warrior she’d had to be, to the young girl she still was. Jordan’s life would go on, and God willing she’d find a way to get past the betrayal of her father’s actions. But she was a survivor, and those kinds of people never quit.
* * *
The media had gotten wind of the raid at Fourth Dimension, and by the time the prison buses reached the city jail in Lexington, the streets were swarming with news vans and journalists, all waiting for the sight of the cult members.
All they’d been told was that missing children had been located on the grounds. They had yet to learn why they’d been taken, and knew nothing about a breeding program or the dead ones.
When the men, thirty-three in number, began filing out of the buses, handcuffed and shackled, on their way inside to booking, cameras began rolling.
The reporters didn’t yet know Aaron Walters by name, but by virtue of the fact that he was still wearing that long white robe, filthy now from the dirt and the blood, he became the face of the cult. The mastermind of evil.
* * *
Cyrus Parks was at the main office of Universal Theorem, getting ready for a meeting, when his cell phone rang. He glanced at caller ID. Kenneth Fields was the head of their DNA lab, so he answered.
“Ken, can I call you back? I’m just getting ready to leave for a—”
“Turn on CNN. Hurry.”
Cyrus grabbed the remote from his desk and hit Power, and when the picture flashed, it took him a few moments to figure out why a bunch of men coming out of prison buses had anything to do with him. It wasn’t until he heard a reporter say Fourth Dimension that it hit him. And then he saw the man in the white robe.
“Dammit!” he said. “Dammit all to hell!”
“What do you want us to do?” Ken asked.
“We don’t have a choice,” Cyrus said. “Destroy the evidence. Shred the reports on the babies. Delete the files from all the computers.”
“All of it?” Ken asked.
“All of it,” Cyrus said, and after he hung up, scrolled through his contacts and made a call. It rang twice and then was answered.
“Yes, sir?”
“Have you located Jud Bien?”
“The last location was at a hotel in Lexington, Kentucky. His car is there, but they said he checked out and was picked up shortly afterward in a chopper. He hasn’t been seen since, and there are no records of any purchases he’s made or withdrawn any money.”
Cyrus groaned. The Feds had him. “Just stand down until I can make some inquiries. I’ll be in touch.”
“Yes, sir,” the man said, and the line went dead.
Cyrus needed details. He wondered where Bien’s daughter was now, and then guessed she’d be returned to her mother. Aaron said she was gifted. He’d planned on using her skills in that project, but with this on the rocks, she no longer mattered to him in the same way. Maybe it was best to just let her be. It was obvious that Jud was the one who’d given them up, and so it would be Jud who had to pay.
As for Aaron, he had become a liability. When the Feds began grilling the fat bastard, Cyrus didn’t trust him to stay quiet. He canceled his meeting and began making calls. There were too many fires from this unexpected event that needed to be put out before it became a conflagration.
And...he had to get rid of the money trail. He picked up the phone and buzzed his secretary.
“Yes, sir?”
“Reschedule my meeting. Something came up.”
* * *
Jud Bien didn’t know his destination; he only knew they were taking him to a safe house. They’d been on the road about two hours now, and he’d been dozing off and on most of the way. When the driver’s cell phone suddenly rang, it startled Jud awake, and when he heard the driver ask about casualties, he sat up. They were talking about Fourth Dimension!
He grabbed hold of the steel cage between them and leaned forward.
“My daughter! Is my daughter okay? Has she been rescued?”
The driver gave him a thumbs-up and continued the call, but that was all Jud needed to know.
“Thank the lord and Charlie Dodge,” he said, then fell back against the seat and closed his eyes.
* * *
The Archangels had all been booked and jailed into one holding cell, and were now contemplating a future in prison. There were federal charges against them for kidnapping and sexual assault, as well as a multitude of lesser charges, and if anyone found out about the girls who’d died in their custody, there would be charges for that, as well.
And they were all giving the Master among them a wide birth. Seeing him sitting in the dirt back at the compound had taken some of the shine off his status.
As for Aaron, trading his white robe for prison orange had been a come-to-Jesus moment. Being locked into a holding cell with all the others added more stress to the situation.
The noise level in the cell was bordering on chaos. The Archangels loudly bemoaned their fate, and many were having trouble blaming Jud Bien. They were sympathetic to a father defending his daughter, and kept casting angry glances at Aaron.
When the news began to spread among them that Larry was dead, and that his wife, Maria, had killed him when he aimed a gun at his own baby, it shifted their perspective again.
Larry was one of the more gifted among them. He had mad skills in clairvoyance, and the Master had always held him in high esteem. But he’d also been a mean one. Too bad psychics couldn’t read themselves. Larry might have made better choices today.
* * *
Aaron was trying to get a read on his future, but between the noise in the holding cell and the pain in his head and face, he couldn’t focus. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was that girl standing over him, taunting him at the reversal of power. He felt his nose and then his rapidly swelling eye and realized that what he’d done to her had come back to him, as well. He’d always heard that old axiom, but never really believed it until now. It was a hard and lasting lesson with no escape.
* * *
The SWAT teams removed the married girls first, loading them and their babies onto one charter bus furnished with food, water and diapers, and then loaded the Sprites onto the remaining bus, furnished in a similar fashion, minus the diapers.
As Wyrick predicted, each bus had a bathroom and two female agents on board to accompany them.
The first bus was noisy. The girls wept off and on, as did their babies. Going home with children made them unsure of a welcome. There was nothing the agents on that bus could say to reassure them, because they knew it was a valid fear. It all depended on people’s prejudices.
The second bus was quiet. The Sprites had been brainwashed by cult rules so thoroughly that without Jordan as the spark, the fire of their tiny rebellion had gone out. Like the other girls, they didn’t know what to expect. What should have been a mood of rejoicing in both buses had become a fear of the unknown.
Agent Patty Barrow, a thirteen-year veteran of the force, began to explain a little about what they had ahead of them.
“The FBI is contacting all of your parents to let them know we’re taking you to a hospital in Lexington first.”
“When we arrive at the hospital, will we have to get shots?” Barbie asked.
Barrow gave Barbie’s hand a quick pat. “They won’t give you medicine unless you’re sick, honey. They just want to make sure the men didn’t hurt you.”
“She means they’re going to see if we’re still virgins,” Randi said.
“Well, we are, because they wouldn’t have wanted us there if we weren
’t,” Katie said.
The agents looked at each other, and then back at the girls.
“What do you mean, they wouldn’t have wanted you?” Jergans asked.
Katie folded her hands in her lap and begin reciting what sounded like a want ad for a job.
“We have to be pure, and getting our first period is when you’re ready to get married and make babies for them.”
“What do you mean, make babies for them?” Jergans asked.
Katie scratched at a spot on her neck and then swiped the hair out of her eyes. “Oh, that’s why they chose us. To make psychic babies for them.”
Both agents were in shock. These girls were still so young, none of them even in their teens, and to hear them talking about marriage and sex and making babies, like it was as simple as making cookies, was horrifying.
Barrow turned toward her partner. “Does headquarters know all this?”
“I don’t know, but I’m about to find out,” Jergans said and moved to the front of the bus, away from the girls, to make the call.
As the charter buses and their federal escorts neared the city limits of Lexington, they were met by a half dozen units from the Lexington Police Department. Three cruisers guided the Feds and the charter buses through the city to Albert B. Chandler Hospital on Rose Street, with the other Feds and three more cruisers following.
“Where are we now?” Katie asked, looking out the window.
“This is Lexington,” Barrow said.
“No, I mean, what state?”
“Oh, we’re still in Kentucky.”
When the girls all began talking and whispering among themselves, Barrow was curious as to why.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“We didn’t ever know where we were,” Randi said. “We just knew we were in the woods.”
“Where are you from?” Barrows asked.
“La Jolla, California,” Randi said.
Barrows began pointing to each of the girls, asking where they were from.
“Pine Bluff, Arkansas.”
“Santa Fe, New Mexico.”
“Pryor, Oklahoma.”
“Baltimore, Maryland.”
“Boston, Massachusetts.”
And on and on, until there was no one left but Barbie.
“And where are you from, honey?” Agent Jergans asked.
Barbie started to cry. “I don’t know. I used to live in Grapevine, Texas, but Mommy and Daddy were moving when Gerald took me away. I can’t remember where we were going. I don’t know where to find them.”
Mel Jergans couldn’t stand it. She plopped down beside the fragile little blonde, pulled her into her lap and started rocking her where they sat.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. I promise. The FBI is as good as Santa Claus at finding where kids live. We’ll find them easy as pie.”
“Really?” Barbie said.
Mel nodded. “Yes, really. And look! See that big building there in the distance. The really, really tall one? That’s the hospital where we’re going.”
All of the girls got up and moved to that side of the bus to look out as Mel kept talking.
“When we get there, you will each have a counselor assigned to you. She will stay with you through your exams. And you will each tell your story of being taken away, and what happened to you, and how you were treated. Understand?”
They nodded and quietly returned to their seats. This was a whole new aspect of rescue they hadn’t foreseen. It was all a little scary, but they knew how to live with fear.
Twenty-One
Jordan was curled up in the back seat with a pillow beneath her head and the covers pulled up to her chin. She’d been asleep for more than two hours, so Charlie and Wyrick had purposefully chosen not to talk. The broken mop handle was on the floorboard, pulled up against the seat where she was sleeping.
They knew she was dreaming, because she kept mumbling. The few times they’d heard distinct words they were shocked, but they now knew how Jud Bien had gotten her all the way to Kentucky without tying her up. He’d stabbed her in the neck with a needle full of drugs. Later, she began crying, mumbling something about blood and rats and snakes.
Wyrick had seen Charlie angry plenty of times, but not like this. His jaw was clenched, his fingers curled around the steering wheel tight enough that his knuckles were white.
She finally dug through the carryall between her feet and then pulled out a Hershey’s bar, tore off the wrapper and broke it in half.
“Take it,” she said.
He took it without comment, but Wyrick didn’t need thanks. She just wanted that scary expression in his eyes to go away. They ate in silence, savoring the sweet chocolate melting on their tongues, then licking the ends of their fingers when it was gone. When Jordan began to stir, she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Do I smell chocolate?” she asked.
“Yes. Want some?” Wyrick asked.
“Yes, please!” Jordan said and held out her hand.
Wyrick dug through the bag again. “Snickers or Peanut M&Ms?” she asked.
“M&Ms, please.”
“Catch,” Wyrick said and tossed it into the back seat. “Do you still have water?”
“Yes, but if I drink it, I’ll have to pee,” she said.
“I can solve that problem,” Charlie said. “There’s a truck stop about ten minutes ahead. I’ll stop there, okay?”
“Okay. Um, Charlie, how far is it to Lexington?”
“About an hour, more or less,” he said, then watched as she tore into the bag of candy and popped a couple into her mouth, before turning his attention back to the highway.
The sweet crunch of the candy shell was so good Jordan closed her eyes as she chewed, relishing every bite. She ate about half the bag before stopping to take a drink.
“Does Mama know where we are?” she asked.
“I just sent her a text,” Wyrick said. “I’ll text her again when we’re closer.”
Jordan sat back and finished off the candy, eating one at a time to make it last.
A few minutes later Charlie exited the highway and pulled into the truck stop and then up to a pump. He killed the engine, then paused.
“I know this may seem like overkill, but humor me, okay? I’m still in protect mode, so let me fill up, and then we’ll go in together.”
Jordan’s heart skipped a beat. “Am I in danger?”
“No, ma’am, you are not,” Charlie said. “But your mama is already going to be ticked off at me for not telling her about you being beaten, so I don’t want any new bumps or bruises when we deliver you. Okay?”
“Oh,” Jordan said and relaxed.
As soon as Charlie got out, Wyrick added her reassurance.
“Honey, the reason Charlie is so good at his job is because he pays attention and takes extra precautions about everything. People hassle me a lot because of how I look, and if he is a witness to it, he makes them sorry.”
Jordan frowned. “About how you look?”
Wyrick shrugged. “A woman with no hair and no boobs is an oddity, and there are plenty of jerks in the world who get their kicks laughing about it.”
“That’s terrible,” Jordan said. “I’m so sorry. For what it’s worth, I think you’re amazing.”
“Same to you,” Wyrick said. “And since you’re doing Charlie a favor, I need you to do one for me, too.”
“Anything,” Jordan said.
“When we get out, leave your spear in the car, and when you get home, get your mom to help you hang it on the wall in your bedroom or something. You don’t need it anymore, and it doesn’t need to become a false crutch. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I’ll get Mama to help me,” Jordan said.
Wyrick nodded, and then they sat in the quiet, looking out at th
e people coming and going, and at the white, puffy clouds drifting across a perfect blue sky.
“It’s a pretty day, isn’t it?” Jordan finally said.
Wyrick nodded. “A perfect day to be going home.”
A few minutes later she saw Charlie replacing the nozzle at the pump and unlocked her seat belt. “Looks like Charlie’s finished. Let’s go.”
They both got out and headed for the station with Charlie walking a couple of steps behind. He followed them all the way to the bathroom area, then waited for them afterward until they came out.
“I need a Pepsi,” Wyrick said and glanced at Jordan. “What about you?”
“Mountain Dew,” she said.
Charlie swung by the cooler and got a bottle of sweet tea, then followed them up to the register, where they got in line to pay.
Because she’d been warned about people hassling Wyrick, Jordan was superconscious of the way people were looking at her. Most people were just curious; some looked a little longer than was polite, but nothing that felt upsetting to her, and finally they reached the counter.
She was watching Charlie insert his credit card in the pin pad when a couple of young men walked in. Jordan noticed them giving Charlie the once-over and thought nothing of it, but when their focus shifted to Wyrick and then to her, she felt challenged and stared back.
Charlie caught the men staring and took one step sideways until the only view they had was of his chest.
They looked up.
“Move on, boys. We’re none of your business,” Charlie said.
Wyrick took Jordan by the arm. “We’re out of here.”
When Charlie moved toward the door, the men stepped aside, but one kept staring to the point Jordan felt threatened. The instinctive need to back him off was overwhelming.
“Hey, Woodrow. Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was rude to stare at people? And just so you know, your boss knows you’re stealing from him, and Laverne is pregnant and is gonna tell your wife.”
Charlie turned around and stared at Jordan in disbelief.
