by EJ Valson
“Have you made a decision, then?”
“Uhh-h-h.” Was I really supposed to have an answer to that?
“Erin, it’s dangerous,” Charlotte finally resorted to begging, which didn’t suit her. “Azura has assured us all that there are likely to be casualties.” Azura’s unexpected rise from the table seemed to have made her crazy, she was becoming frantic now. “Can you imagine? Casualties!” Her eyes searched mine, pleading for me to turn away from all the nonsense I had just heard. Half of which still didn’t make a lot of sense.
“Erin, please,” Azura commanded.
“But—I still have so many questions.” It shocked even me that I was taking any of this seriously, but I was now growing more worried.
“There isn’t time, dear. I’m sorry.” If I wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of regret in her voice.
“Erin—”
“Charlotte!” Azura snapped. I heard the phone vibrate once more in her pocket, and watched as her faced changed. “She must decide now!”
“Well, she doesn’t have any—”
“Yes.”
They both turned to look at me. Charlotte’s expression read ‘horror’. Azura looked satisfied, though not at all pleased.
“Very well.”
“Erin!” My best friend was clearly beside herself in shock with my quick decision. I wished I could help her to not worry so much, but I wasn’t sure what was happening myself.
Azura went to my refrigerator and grabbed two more water bottles; along with the unopened one I had given her earlier. She then took the open box of Pop-Tarts that I had left sitting out and tucked it under her arm.
“Disgusting,” she uttered. “Let’s move.”
THIRTEEN
Azura was out the door and in her Jeep in seconds, leaving Charlotte and I standing in the kitchen. We both waited in silence for the other to say something, but what was there – really – to say?
“I’m so sorry, Erin,” she choked out after what seemed like an eternity. It was more likely only seconds. I seriously doubted that Azura could have stood to wait any longer than that. Charlotte walked across the room and grabbed me. I leaned into her hug, not sure what to think. Or say.
What had I just gotten myself into? Fighting? Protecting people that didn’t like me? Fighting with people I barely knew?
The Jeep honked three times, quickly and impatiently. Charlotte pushed me out of our awkward embrace and held onto my shoulders at arm’s length.
“I love you,” she whispered, though I was sure she meant it to come out sounding stronger than that. “You know that. You are my best friend, and I practically consider us sisters.” She wiped at her eyes and returned her hand to my shoulder. “When I offered you this job, I really thought it would be perfect for you. For me, as well. Having my friend back, having you around all day. For Violet, having you pop in on her often.” She sniffled and wiped at her eyes again, which were clearly becoming harder to see out of.
“And of course I thought you would be involved in the group. Of course. But not like this. I never – not in a million years,” she began trembling again, “thought we would have to defend ourselves!”
I reached behind me without breaking her hold and grabbed the roll of paper towels by the sink. She let go of me and pulled several sheets off, dabbing at her swollen eyes.
“I would have never let this go on. I’m the principal, for crying out loud! These women, their families, their well-being . . . are my responsibility!”
Azura laid on the horn and we both jumped. Charlotte swiped her wet face again, grabbed my purse and keys from their usual spot on the counter, and pulled me to the car, locking the door behind us.
“Where are we going?”
“Colorado.” Azura’s quick answer frightened me. As did Charlotte’s incessant trembling in the front seat. No sound came from her for several miles, other than an occasional whimper.
I really didn’t want to ask the next obvious question.
While Charlotte stared out the window, Azura was mumbling directions to herself. I swallowed over and over again, trying to relax enough to speak. Just as I was about to, a cell phone buzzed. Azura flipped her phone up to her ear and spoke quietly and quickly.
“I don’t have time for that. Here.” She shoved the phone at Charlotte, who jumped.
“H-hello?” she squeaked. “Oh, oh yes. Uh—have as many children go home as possible. Right away. Yes.”
Violet.
I dove for my phone. Charlotte had put it in my purse, I was sure. I pressed the 2 so hard I nearly broke it – and waited.
“Hello?” John’s voice was surprised. Of course it was surprised. I was supposed to be at home, sick in bed. He probably assumed I would nap the day away.
“Honey?” I tried to slow my breathing, so I wouldn’t alarm him, but I was nearly hyperventilating. “Go pick up Vy.”
It would be horribly inconvenient for him to leave work early, especially since he went in late this morning after dropping her off at school. It didn’t matter, though. She needed to be home.
To be safe.
“What? Why? Is she sick?”
I was about to lie and say “yes”, but heard Charlotte saying something about an electrical fire into Azura’s phone. If that was the official story, then that’s what I would go with, too.
“Fire,” I breathed. I was panicking. What was really even going on? Was there any need to panic?
“The school’s on fire?” John was saying, though I barely heard him. I had leaned forward and was listening to Charlotte’s conversation.
“Erin! Are you listening to me?”
“Yes, honey. I’m sorry.” What was the story again? For a mother who tried to instill good qualities in my daughter, I sure was doing a lot of lying lately. “There was a small electrical fire at the school. Not a big deal. It’s being taken care of, but it was . . . uh . . . in the office. They’re just shutting the place down for the day.” Would he buy that?
Wait.
Wait.
“Hmmm. Every student is going home? That sounds like a pretty tall order.” He was suspicious. I really was a crummy liar. “Charlotte must be going crazy.”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” At least that much was the truth.
“Wait. Why can’t you go get her?”
Uh oh. How do people do this all the time? One lie to cover up another? And now I had to think on the spot.
“I threw up.” I said it as if that one statement should explain everything.
“Oh, honey.” He was suddenly empathetic. I love him. For John, that one statement apparently did explain everything. Of course, he knows best that if I’m sick enough to vomit then I think I’m dying.
“Yeah,” I faked my best queasy voice. “I told you I was sick this morning.” Then I added, “I wasn’t kidding.” By throwing that in there, I almost believed myself.
“Well, I’ll finish up here then. I’ll be at the school within the hour. Do you want me to bring you anything on the way home?”
Oh no! I’d have to think of another story to explain why I wouldn’t be home when he got there.
“No thank you, sweetheart.” I heard his desk drawers closing and papers being shuffled in the background. I hoped he would hurry. I couldn’t tell if I should be worried about Vy, or just about myself.
“I’ll see you in a little while. Get some rest, alright?”
“Okay.” For some reason, this awkward phone conversation – full of lies on my end – seemed a little ominous all of a sudden. Were we really in that much danger? And if we were, would I ever actually make it home? What if I never saw John and Vy again? I was going to call and make up some fake reason for not being there when they arrived home . . . and then not come home at all? Would anyone even know what happened to me?
I began to tremble as I thought it through. I had been so foolish to volunteer for something I knew nothing about. Sure, Charlotte was my best friend, and I would like to think that I co
uld be of value in a fight (yeah, right). But John and Violet are my life. How could I chance not coming home – just to try to prove myself to a bunch of women I barely knew?
“Erin, are you there?”
I swallowed the lump that had crept into my throat. It burned.
“Yes. I’m here.”
“I said I love you.”
“Sorry.” I wiped my leaking eyes. “I love you too. Very much. I’ll see you when I get home.”
My fingers were flying just as soon as I had hung up. I quickly dialed the number to our house. Charlotte turned in her seat to look at me as I listened to the ringing, then to our answering machine picking up.
“John, it’s me.” I rotated so I could look out the window. It was hard to concentrate with Charlotte’s intensity bearing down on me. I spoke quickly and tried to sound as bubbly as possible.
“Listen, I’m sorry I forgot to leave a note—Azura came by to check on me and decided to take me out for coffee. You know how she is, I couldn’t say no.” I received a glare and a raised eyebrow in the rearview mirror. Coffee wouldn’t take very long, however. Hmmm.
“And she mentioned lunch or shopping or something as well.” I was pretty sure that Azura Dane was the last person on earth I would ever go shopping with. Second to last, maybe, after Elizabeth.
“So, call me later. Oh—but my phone is almost dead. Maybe I’ll just turn it off for now and call you later.” Good one, I thought. Hopefully that covered all the bases, and it would be a few hours before he started to worry why I wasn’t there.
What would he think when he couldn’t get a hold of me? Would we be more than a few hours?
I pressed the red symbol until the phone turned off, then breathed a sigh of relief. Relief of what, I wasn’t quite sure. At least now I was invisible for a while, I supposed. I closed my eyes and began to pray. For our safety, for the safety of all the children who would soon be filing out of school, for whatever we were getting ready to encounter. I prayed hard, and for a long time, and each request brought me closer to tears.
I was in the middle of feelings and fears that were much deeper than I had experienced in a long time when Charlotte reached back and laced her fingers between mine. When I looked up, uttering an “Amen” in my head, we both began to sob quietly.
Azura caught my eye in the mirror and frowned a little.
“Ladies, we have a long way to go. Please try not to wear yourselves out already.”
Then, not by choice, I leaned my head against the Jeep’s unforgiving window and fell deeply asleep. The last thing I remembered was feeling Charlotte’s hand slip gently away from mine.
FOURTEEN
“Charlotte . . . Erin . . .” Azura called quietly.
I was barely aware of my body, I had slept so deeply. My legs and arms were limp and felt completely rested. I kept my eyes closed as I felt my body begin to wake up. The Jeep jostled angrily, then felt like it dropped off the pavement altogether. My head bounced upright involuntarily, and as it did, I nearly yelped in pain. It felt as though I had been sleeping for hours in the most horrible position possible, and I ached very much.
“What time is it?” I heard Charlotte ask. She sounded achy – yet rested – as well.
When I finally stopped rubbing my neck and opened my eyes, I was stunned to see that it was completely—no, consumingly dark.
“One,” Azura answered, distracted. The Jeep bounced uncomfortably, and to my constant amazement, she looked quite natural maneuvering the rugged vehicle.
“One o’clock in the morning?” I asked.
“Yes, of course.”
The panic of several hours earlier immediately set in again. John would be worried sick. He thought I was out for coffee, not a slumber party. I dug around frantically for my phone, which I was certain I had left in my lap. But I couldn’t find it anywhere.
“My phone. My phone. I can’t find it—”
“Erin, please settle down.” Azura caught my eye in the mirror. “I called your families. They are not expecting you back tonight.”
“What—”
“If you don’t mind,” her voice was now full of authority, “I need to concentrate. I haven’t been here in a very long time.”
Since my eyes had finally adjusted to the black night that was surrounding us, I looked out the window. We were on a crude, narrow road flanked on either side by low, rolling hills.
Charlotte wiped her groggy eyes with the back of her hand and addressed our driver without looking at her.
“Where are we?”
“Colorado.”
“Wow,” Charlotte was taking in our change of scenery now. “You weren’t joking.”
“Why would I joke about something like that?” Azura snapped. She was clearly flustered. “Now where is that road?” I saw her frowning deeply in the mirror. “Aaaah,” she finally sighed.
There was nothing about the rest of the Jeep ride that said “road” to me. We spent the next half hour hanging on for dear life as we rattled our way down an acutely rough trail that would have been barely visible even in broad daylight.
On one side, now, was the same type of steep hill I noticed when I woke up. And on the other side was a sheer drop into more pitch black. I spent most of this part of the trip with my eyes closed, which didn’t look remarkably different than when they were open.
“Azura?” I finally asked when we began slowing down. “What should we expect?” My heart skipped a beat as I waited for her answer.
“Anything dear. Be ready for anything.”
I sank into my seat. For the first time, I very realistically pictured John and Violet’s lives without me.
After another half hour of driving, Azura parked the Jeep in a small cave opening that I hadn’t seen until we were inside it, and instructed us to get out quietly. Charlotte and I did as we were told without talking. We followed her to the back of the Jeep and watched her rummage around in the dark.
“How can she see what she’s looking for?” Charlotte asked rhetorically as she grabbed my hand.
Azura threw something over her shoulder and shut the tailgate. Much to our surprise – and disappointment – after all that rummaging, no flashlight was produced. Azura breezed past us, and beckoned impatiently that we should follow her. With no light, and no knowledge of our surroundings, we set off directly behind her. Hand in hand, we followed our friend – crazy and obscure as we thought she was – into the darkness.
The three of us walked for what seemed like ages through the absurdly dark cave, feeling the rugged walls with our free hands, until we came to a steel door just big enough for a person to squeeze through. I’m not sure how Azura saw it, but there, in the middle of the rocky wall, was a small door. It looked like it had never been used, and was probably rusted shut.
Azura wrapped her thin fingers around the top edge of it and pulled forcefully and, amazingly, it opened. There was no lock on it, which I thought might have been appropriate. I mean, a couple of adventurous teenagers could have happened upon it through the years and crawled right into it. Teenagers that were crazy enough to traipse around in a cold cave, miles from a nearly invisible opening in the rock face. Hmmmmm, I guessed the chances of that were pretty slim.
