The Girl Behind the Red Rope

by Ted Dekker

  I was so consumed with this thought that I didn’t even think of looking for reassurance from Jamie, who walked with an eager gait just in front of me. He glanced back several times that first fifteen minutes, but I didn’t speak. Maybe I was afraid my voice would bring unwanted attention.

  Instead of reaching out to Jamie, I silently called out to Lukas, my little brother. I’m so sorry, Lukas. I tried my best. If I get back to Haven Valley alive, I’ll be perfect, I promise. I’ll always be there for you. Please, just let me live.

  I’m not sure why I felt the need to apologize to him. Or why I thought he might be able to save me. Maybe I was just talking to myself. Or to whatever angels might be listening.

  Either way, with each passing minute I began to gain just a little more hope. Nothing had happened to us. No Fury. Not yet.

  Jamie stopped on a small rise and spun back, eyes bright. “Well? You still don’t believe me?”

  I pulled up, glancing around.

  “See?” he asked, arms spread. “Nothing but trees. No Fury. What did I tell you?”

  I finally dared to speak. “Not yet.”

  “Not ever, I’m telling you. It’s all in our minds. Like Lukas.”

  His mention of my speaking to Lukas as if he were still alive irritated me, but maybe he had a point. Lukas was real enough to me because I believed in him. Maybe the Fury really were like that. But then I threw the thought away. Rose couldn’t be wrong after all this time. We’d all seen the Fury even before we believed in them.

  “Follow me, sister,” he said, turning back to his march. “Follow me and see for yourself. There’s nothing to fear out here, not unless you’re afraid of trees.”

  I had no choice but to follow. And I did, staying close. For an hour. Then two, settling just a little bit more with each passing minute. But that didn’t mean everything couldn’t change in a moment.

  The forest was vast, filled with thick trunks that reached up to fully leafed treetops. It was like a maze, but Jamie had marked trees and boulders on his previous outings.

  My legs ached from crossing the uneven ground, up and down, around impassable thickets, through heavy brush, even across a small river. We removed our shoes and socks to ford it. Every distant sound drew my ear. The rumble of a stone, the snap of a twig, the rustle of a small woodland creature.

  Rather than court constant thoughts of being attacked by the Fury, I found my thoughts drifting to the world beyond this mountain. What did it look like? It had been over ten years since I’d seen cars on streets. Would I really see that? What about clothes, like jeans and T-shirts and pretty shoes? Did they still exist?

  And movies. I used to love watching Disney movies before we’d moved to Haven Valley. The Little Mermaid had been my favorite. So many of the stories I told the children in Haven Valley came from those memories of wild cartoon adventures. Mary Poppins too. And The Sound of Music. And books. What I would give to steal away and read a novel filled with adventure and romance!

  How many times had I imagined the dangers that awaited anyone who dared cross the perimeter? But all I saw now was beauty growing from the ground, from the treetops, from the sides of cliffs. Not a monstrous thing could be seen.

  The lack of death and destruction was so surprising to me that I began to embrace the wonder of it all. After three hours, that wonder gave way to a kind of jubilation.

  “It’s going to be okay, Lukas,” I muttered, forgetting that Jamie was with me.

  “Yes it is, Lukas,” he said. He skipped ahead and jumped up on a rock. “It’s going to be more than okay, little brother!” Then to me, eyes wild with excitement: “Just think, Grace! All those things you used to love, they’re waiting for us just over this rise.”

  “Really? We’re that close?”

  “Closer than you would guess.” He jumped down. “Strawberry, right?”

  “Strawberry?”

  “Your favorite ice cream flavor. Before coming here.”

  I couldn’t help but grin at the thought. “Yes.”

  “So imagine eating as much strawberry ice cream as you like. And staying up all night watching movies. And falling in love with someone you choose.”

  The thought carried me away. It sounded both scandalous and wonderful at once.

  “You could do other things too!” he said, spinning in a circle. “The world would be our oyster. Cars and video games and girls—”

  “Jamie!”

  “What? Don’t tell me you don’t think about it. What would you wear if you could?”

  I didn’t have to think long, and no one could hear us. “A red dress?”

  “A red dress!” He swayed like a dancer in a dress.

  “And red lipstick!”

  He made the motion of painting makeup on his face. “Made up like a peacock with as many colors as you can imagine. You could be the peacock writer, spinning a hundred stories that everyone would line up to read.”

  “You think?” I was grinning now, caught up in the fantasy.

  “Why not? It’s what you’re good at, making stuff up. Put your wild imagination to good use. Have it turned into a movie.”

  It was almost too much to consider. A wilder fantasy than floating around the moon with Bart. A hundred thoughts battered my mind. Wouldn’t all that upset God? Surely. The thought tempered my enthusiasm, but only a little because so far Jamie had been right.

  No Fury. Not yet.

  “Come on!” he cried and raced up the path. “The city’s just ahead.”

  “It is?” I hurried after him, alarmed. “The city?”

  “Not the city, but a cliff from where we can see it, like I said.”

  The plan had been to reach that precipice before nightfall and cover the rest of the distance tomorrow. I followed him to the edge of a high cliff that fell away to a vast valley.

  I pulled up, gasping. “A city!” I whispered.

  “Of course. Just like I said.”

  It was too far away to see anything clearly, but the outline was there. Tall buildings rose from the right side of the landscape, and shorter structures ran out to either side—homes of all sizes. Roads stretched out between the structures, and a wide green square I thought must be a park sat almost directly in the city’s center.

  It was startling to see with my own eyes. Just as Jamie had said, the city shimmered under the afternoon sun, permanent. Present. When we taught children who were born in Haven Valley about the world outside the gates, we spoke of monsters and evil. We told tales of destruction and war. Stories where the Fury had been allowed to invade the earth and bring all sinners to a bloody justice.

  From this place atop the cliff’s high edge, nothing looked as I would have imagined.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Jamie said. He dropped the pack he’d been carrying. “Can you imagine what it must be like?”

  Seeing the city sitting far away, I suddenly felt anxious. We had no business being here. We were being lured. Something was wrong.

  “Well?” he pushed. “Can you?”

  “No,” I said. “I’m not sure I should want to.”

  He looked stunned. “How could you not? You imagine everything else.”

  “But this is . . .”

  “Real?”

  “Is it?”

  “Of course it is! More real than Haven Valley, I think.”

  “And dangerous,” I said.

  “And maybe that’s just an idea too. What if all of our fears are only fears of ideas?”

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” I said. “How can you tell from standing here that there’s no danger?”

  Jamie sighed and said nothing.

  “Don’t you feel any fear at all?” I asked.

  Again, no response, which was a response in itself.

  “Fear helps keep us safe. When you feel afraid, run, because something’s not right. How can you be ignoring your nature?”

  “Fear isn’t my only instinct,” Jamie said.

 
But my fear was making a quick comeback, and with it, anger. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

  “Those other instincts might get us killed.”

  He turned to me with apologetic eyes. “You’re angry with me.” It wasn’t a question.

  I held my tongue despite my anger, yielding to the conviction that raising my voice to him was inappropriate. Even miles from Haven Valley I could feel the comfort of the laws that tucked me safely into bed each night. I longed for that safety and comfort now.

  “Grace.” Jamie reached for my shoulder.

  I pulled back and turned away from him. “We were called to a different life,” I said. “A purer life, separate from the world filled with evil, however intriguing or beautiful it might seem.” I thrust my arm at the valley. “I don’t want this city with its newness and uncertainty. I want to be worthy of our inheritance. Why couldn’t you just leave well enough alone?”

  “Who’s to say our inheritance isn’t now?” Jamie demanded, face reddening. “As Rose said, maybe my sensibilities led us here for a reason.”

  “You said maybe what we saw wasn’t real. Do you really believe the Fury never did exist? Are you really willing to pretend we didn’t see what we saw?”

  Jamie looked past me, easing. “I misspoke.”

  “Misspoke?”

  “I was caught up. Desperate to understand.”

  “So you do believe?”

  Another beat of silence passed between us. “I don’t know.”

  At least he was being honest.

  “You always tell me that I use my stories to escape reality,” I said. “Well, maybe you’re doing the same thing. Maybe your imaginations about cars and girls and all that are just your fantasies. Did you ever think about that?”

  “We’re alive, aren’t we? Is this a fantasy?”

  “We’re alive, but for how long? You know we can’t go back.”

  “Of course we can. As soon as we can prove that the Fury are gone.”

  “Or never, because we’ll be dead.”

  He frowned. There was that.

  I settled and stared at the city. “Do you still have nightmares?” I asked. “See their faces in the dark corners of your bedroom?”

  Jamie lifted his eyes. “Often.”

  Something snapped loudly behind me, and my heart leaped into my throat as I spun around. Jamie took two quick strides to place himself in front of me. I peered around his broad shoulders at the trees and thick brush beyond. The bushes rustled; another twig snapped.

  I could see the tension in Jamie’s shoulders and back as we stood waiting for whatever approached. The world seemed to still and my mind raced too quickly for me to pin down a single thought.

  Nothing came.

  More moments of waiting, watching, primed both of us with fear. Still nothing came. Jamie’s shoulders dropped as he began to relax, and my nerves settled.

  “See?” he said, stepping back to his pack at the cliff’s edge. “Nothing.”

  I took a few breaths, working to get my lungs and heart back to normal rhythm, and turned to meet my brother’s eyes. “When you feel fear, run. Something isn’t right,” I said. “This isn’t right.”

  Jamie held my gaze before turning and heading along the edge of the cliff. “This is as far as I’ve gotten. We need to find a place to camp for the night.”

  I followed reluctantly but with new clarity.

  Jamie was afraid too.

  WE FOUND A PLACE TO MAKE CAMP WITHIN HALF an hour. We didn’t have shelter, but after assessing the sky, Jamie assured me it wouldn’t rain. So we unrolled the thin sleeping mats we’d brought and worked on starting a fire. It took us little time to get the flint to spark a flame and coax it into a healthy blaze. Fire that brought a little comfort as dusk darkened my mood.

  “Maybe they only come out at night,” I said, staring into the flames.

  “Why would evil wait for night? Is it that limited?”

  But I wasn’t convinced. At least we had a fire and some food. Eight buns, some peanut butter, a packet of smoked jerky, and four apples. Enough to last for two days, we thought. But Jamie had already pointed out a variety of edible berries along the way.

  Other than our exchange at the cliff, we hadn’t spoken much. There wasn’t much to say. Jamie might be eager to reach the city, but I was far less so. What if the Fury kept to that place, where they had plenty of souls to feed on?

  Jamie’s thoughts were elsewhere.

  “I know you’re frightened, Grace. I was sweating the first time I came out. But you have to trust me. No one would have guessed that we could make it even this far without being crushed. Even if the Fury are still out there, they’re not as aggressive as they once were. It’s worth the risk to find out if we’re mistaken, living in fear the way we do in Haven Valley.”

  His words confused me, because we all knew how valuable fear was in keeping us safe. But at the same time, I had always trusted Jamie with my life. So I was caught between opposites and didn’t see a good way out. Maybe he was right, maybe he was wrong, but either way he was still my brother.

  Maybe I really was just a naïve girl who followed whatever came along.

  “I’m sorry for dragging you into this,” he said softly, watching the flames dwindle. “I didn’t mean to put you in this position.”

  Well, you did, I thought.

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  And then neither of us said anything for a while.

  Jamie finally pushed himself off the ground. “We need more firewood. Need to keep this fire going.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?” I asked mostly for my own benefit. I wasn’t sure how I felt about being alone, even for a few minutes.

  “I won’t be gone long,” he said, then disappeared into the trees.

  As if his parting had sent a signal to the sky, dusk quickly faded to darkness. I inched closer to the fire, regretting I’d let him out of my sight.

  I’d never liked darkness much. Andrew preferred it pitch-black when he slept, and nights in his bed left me tired. Truthfully, I wasn’t comfortable sleeping next to him, so the dark protected me from seeing him. But the darkness itself was as much of a problem, so there was no way to find peace in his house.

  I wondered how he would treat me when I returned to Haven Valley. Would he scorn me? Divorce me? Maybe that would be a good thing. I would rather have a baby with someone my age whom I loved, like Alice had.

  Assuming I survived the night.

  I tried to meditate on things that made me feel peaceful. The Scriptures, the promises for the holy and faithful. But I no longer met the criteria for those promises. So where was I now? I finally pulled my hood up over my head, grateful for the many required layers I donned each morning to hide my figure. They lent me warmth now.

  Out here, I could dance around in my long slip with the red and yellow flowers I’d painted on it. Actually, the undergarment I’d put on today had blue flowers as well. I could hardly imagine wearing a red dress. Well, I could, but even the thought of it made me nervous.

  What was taking Jamie so long? Maybe it had only been a couple of minutes and I had lost all sense of time.

  As if on cue, I heard him in the thicket, approaching from my left, and I released a small sigh of relief. “Finally. What took you so long?”

  He didn’t respond. The brushing of leaves drew closer as a hot breeze picked up and swirled around me.

  “Jamie?”

  I froze where I sat, straining my ears for a response. The leaves were now rustling all around me, and I stood as panic edged into my mind. I desperately hoped it was only the wind kicking up.

  “Jamie!” I screamed.

  A thin, mournful cry, like the death moan of a ghost, rose from my right. I spun, heart in my throat.

  But now it came from my left, a longer cry, piercing and terrifying. I wanted to cry out, but my throat had frozen shut.

  The sound was now behind me and I twirled around, but it was still behind me,
shrieking like a wounded animal. Or was it coming from me?

  The wind howled and the terrifying sound rushed me and all I could do was throw my hands over my eyes and scream. I was sure in that moment my end had come.

  My scream ran out of air and I gasped, mind lost to terror. Only then did I realize the wind was gone and the night was still. And I hadn’t been touched.

  Slowly I removed my hands from my eyes and stared across the fire. What I saw chilled my bones and stopped my heart.

  There, staring at me with white eyes that peered from a hooded, black, swirling shroud, was a Fury.

  It hung in the air, feetless. Its thin tattered cloak drifted around its body, if it even had a body. What it did have were arms with long gray fingers and sharp nails. And it had a black head under its hood. Or at least eyes and a mouth. I couldn’t actually see a head. Only white eyes that shifted as if fueled by a fire within its unseen skull. And a round, fanged mouth. No lips, just the mouth.

  I saw it all before my heart stopped, and I knew I was going to die.

  If it had been a werewolf or any other monster, I might not have lost myself to such terror, but this creature, the same kind we had all seen thirteen years earlier, pressed a wicked chill deep into my bones. It was the kind of fear that made me want to beg for death.

  But I couldn’t beg. Nor scream. Nor breathe.

  Its fangs parted and a low phlegm-popping growl cut through the silence. Its jaws snapped wide and it released a bone-rattling roar. And then it was rushing, and even though I saw it coming straight for me, I still couldn’t move.

  The Fury was no more than three feet from me when a white streak from my right slammed into it broadside. With a yelp, the Fury slammed into a tree ten feet to my left.

  I stared in disbelief as it fell to the feet of its attacker, jerked once, then turned to vapor.

  The attacker stood with feet planted firmly, fists low, staring down at the wisps of vapor as if to make sure the creature really was gone or dead or whatever.

  Satisfied, the attacker turned around and faced me. A woman.

  Tall and thin, she was dressed in white pants and blouse with a striking black silk jacket. Her platinum blonde hair flowed down past her shoulders and framed pale, gentle facial features. High cheeks, full lips, a symmetrical nose, vibrant brown eyes.