Moonbow

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Moonbow Page 10

by Sheila Hollinghead


  She glanced at Tom again. "I was married. For two years. David was killed in Afghanistan. Have you ever been in service?"

  He still didn't speak, but she saw a flicker of interest in his eyes.

  "We tried to have a child the first year, but we knew something was wrong. Turned out to be scar tissue in my fallopian tubes. We knew if we were to have children, it would have to be in vitro. David was afraid something might happen when he got orders to ship to Afghanistan, so he had some sperm frozen.”

  Maybe this line of talk would get her some information about the cloning. She'd find out why she was the one picked to carry Hitler—if that's who the clone was. Was she making any headway? She checked Tom’s face and found him smirking.

  “What? Why are you smiling?” She frowned at him.

  A grin spread over his face. “David is one of ours.”

  “What? What do you mean?” She stared at him.

  He straightened, walked toward her, and jabbed a finger. “His job was to seduce young girls, get them to agree to have one of those test-tube babies. You were girl number three.”

  “Number three?" Was this guy crazy?

  Her hands gripped the sides of the treadmill tighter. David...part of Die Auserwählten? Impossible. He had loved her!

  "Yep. And he's just finished up number four. He's off looking for your Dr. Brooks right now."

  She tried to comprehend what he was telling her. David was alive, part of Die Auserwählten, and was looking for Rayden? She narrowed her eyes. "Why?”

  Without answering, he moved back to lean against the door jamb, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes.

  “If what you're telling me is true, why would he be looking for Dr. Brooks?” She stared at him. When she turned off the treadmill, he opened his eyes again.

  She cleared her throat. "Why is he looking for Dr. Brooks?"

  He held up a finger. "Number one, jealousy. He got a little too attached to you during his assignment, and, afterwards, you were spending quite a bit of time alone with Dr. Brooks—enough to get him upset. Number two, Dr. Cochran will need to be replaced. Oberste believes Dr. Brooks is a likely candidate."

  "Assignment? I was an assignment?"

  He didn't answer but simply smirked.

  Lies! All lies. Why were they lying to her? She jumped off the treadmill and rushed him, hitting him with the palms of her hands. “I would have known if, if...”

  David could not have been part of Die Auserwählten. She would have known! She pounded Tom's chest.

  He grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back, pushing her towards the bed and forcing her down.

  The door creaked open, and Ralph entered the room. “Tom, what’s going on here?”

  Tom released her, and she sprang up. “He said David was one of yours—that I was the third woman that he, he...” Gisa's voice broke. She turned to pummel Ralph until she gasped for breath.

  Tom caught her arms and clicked his fingers. "Get the restraints."

  “Tell me! Tell me the truth!” Gisa's screams echoed around the room.

  Together, they pushed her back on the bed. She rolled back and forth, trying to escape their hold. They were lying to her. Why were they doing this? David, whom she loved. David who loved her.

  "You're lying," she screamed, bringing a knee up and catching Ralph under the chin.

  He rubbed his chin and then helped Tom finish subduing her.

  She lost all connection with her captors. They faded away while her cries resounded again and again in the small room.

  AFTER THE SECOND day, the vet told Rayden his name...Sam. Knowing he had had a close call, Rayden forced himself to stay at the cabin. After a few days, he no longer had to force himself. He became lethargic, moping around, doing little, sometimes helping with odd jobs, sometimes helping prepare their meals. He also went for long walks in the woods, the dogs following him when he allowed.

  How could he expect to find Gisa after the Die Auserwählten had had such a long head start? Why had God made it virtually impossible for him?

  He felt like Elijah of the Bible. Why should he go on? How could he go on? But...if he had really wanted to die, he would not have sought help—just allowed the blood poisoning to kill him.

  Sam rarely talked but he had been a good doctor to Rayden. He had not told Sam the entire story, and Sam had not asked for details.

  His body healed, and each day he regained some of his strength, yet no initiative. The only time he left the cabin was just for a short walk in the woods.

  After being there a month, he was walking without a limp, and his other wounds had healed over. But still he did not leave. The dogs became his constant companions, especially Prometheus, the German Shepherd. In the evenings, the dog would often put his head on his knee, as if listening to his words.

  The days grew warmer. Rayden took walks more often, racking his brain, wondering how he would ever find Gisa again. He had friends he could contact, but the police were probably keeping tabs, waiting for him to come out of hiding.

  Rayden and Prometheus walked up the mountain farther than normal, late one evening. Rayden carried a thick stick, just in case they ran up on bears or coyotes. It was dark when they turned to head home. A full moon was out, thankfully, so that they easily picked their way through the woods. They came to the old hunter's shed where Rayden had woken up with blood poisoning. He stopped and stared at the shed, the moon shining above it.

  Rayden drew a circle on the ground with his stick. He added a straight line with a "v" intersecting it. When he added the flat "m" to the top of the "v," he caught his breath.

  There in the moonlight, he saw for the first time that the symbol was a bow, a bow with the arrow in place. This that his father had taught him, so many years ago was a drawing of a bow and arrow. He looked up at the moon, and a deep yearning spread through him. He had to find Gisa.

  And, maybe, just maybe, this would be the key. His father had always claimed this symbol, the round circle that he now saw held a bow and arrow, could be used to summon help. He would head to the mountains of Tennessee or...Kentucky...and use this sign...find help. Maybe...if what his father had told him was true and not superstition.

  He would leave first thing in the morning. For the first time since he had been shot, a bit of hope grew within him.

  * * *

  Gisa struggled to surface from her deep sleep. She forced her eyes open, and Oberste slowly came into focus. He sat on the edge of her bed.

  He smiled at her and patted her hand. “Stay calm. I’d rather not have you sedated again.”

  Gisa struggled for control. She sighed. “Just tell me the truth.”

  Oberste breathed deeply and pulled off his glasses. He pinched the top of his nose and closed his eyes. He opened them and replaced his glasses. “Your husband was part of our organization. We needed you; he was recruited; he did his job.”

  She closed her eyes trying to grasp the implications of what he was telling her. Her David. David whom she loved so deeply—who surely had loved her. She pushed herself to a sitting position and searched the doctor’s face. “David knew I would be impregnated with this, this...monster?”

  "Monster?" Oberste's eyes took on a faraway look. He chuckled.

  Gisa's anger rose to the surface. “And David wasn't sent to Afghanistan and killed?"

  Oberste's eyes twinkled. "Oh, no. He is very much alive. He provides us with a valuable service."

  "Where is he?”

  Oberste looked momentarily confused. “He? David?”

  “Yes, David. Where is he? Tom said he was looking for Rayden.” Her hand curled into a fist and pounded the bed.

  Oberste shook his head at her. “Gisa...” he warned.

  She looked down at her hand, now lying still upon the bed. “It doesn't matter. How can I believe anything you tell me?”

  "You can believe me. I will not lie to you. However, there are many things best left unsaid. Tom should not have spoken to you of David, but
what is done is done."

  David. How could he be part of...part of doing this to her? Tears stung her eyes. Was there anyone she could trust? “And Dr. Brooks...is he...was he part of your organization?”

  Why had she asked that? Hadn't Rayden been trying to help her? And been shot? But did she really know he had been shot?

  But...what if something more was going on...something Rayden was involved in? She scoffed. She had no idea what was going on in the first place, no idea why the baby...fetus she carried was so important to Die Auserwählten—even if it were Hitler, how would that help them? But if Rayden wasn't involved, why would David be searching for him?

  Oberste was observing her. She caught his gaze, her chin lifting.

  He shook his head, and a smile played on his lips. “No. Dr. Brooks is one of the country's top fertility specialists, but not one of ours.”

  Relief flooded her. "And the...baby. Why did you choose me? Is this some type of experiment?"

  He shrugged his shoulders. "All in good time." He rose from the bed, and she put a hand up, as high as the restraints would allow, to stop him.

  “Wait. What will happen to me when the baby is born?”

  “Don’t worry about that.” He patted her hand and she forced herself not to cringe or pull away. “Adalgisa, we’ll take good care of you.” And his round cheeks, twinkling eyes, and smile sent a chill through her heart.

  * * *

  Rayden

  Rayden carried his cup of coffee to the table and sat down across from Sam.

  Sam shoveled in a spoonful of eggs without looking up and chewed for a second before he spoke. "I've got to lay in more supplies. Plan a trip into town today."

  Rayden cleared his throat. “Will you be able to drive me down the mountain?”

  Sam looked up from his coffee with surprise in his eyes. "Sure. Suppose you're ready to head on out?"

  Rayden gave a nod. "Let me get my stuff together."

  Prometheus followed and sat with his head tilting back and forth, obviously wondering what Rayden was up to. It only took Rayden a minute to stuff his backpack with his few possessions. Sam waited for him at the door.

  Prometheus had followed Rayden and nudged his hand. He knelt beside the dog, ruffling the fur at his neck. "I'll miss you, boy."

  "Take him with you," Sam said.

  "What?" Rayden frowned up at him.

  "Ain't like I don't have enough dogs. He seems to prefer you anyhow."

  "If you're sure..."

  Sam made an impatient gesture. "Wouldn't have offered if I wasn't."

  Rayden stood and held out his hand. Sam looked at it a minute as if he didn’t recognize what it was. Then he held out his own, and they shook.

  “If there’s ever anything I can do for you...,” Rayden began.

  Sam held up a hand. "Say one more word, and I'll change my mind.”

  "But let me..."

  Sam stared at him so hard that Rayden fell silent and dropped his gaze. His hand came to rest on Prometheus's head. "Come on, boy. Let's go."

  GISA SCRATCHED A notch in the wall beside the bed every day. Probably they knew she was doing it, but no one stopped her.

  She fluffed up the pillows and lay back on the bed. Why wouldn’t they allow her to step outside? Were they afraid of what she would see or just afraid she would find some way to escape?

  Life continued outside of this house, this room. Rayden—where was he? Was he even alive? If he was, where could he be? Was he trying to find her? Could he help her if he did find her? Had he really meant for her to figure out where to meet him just from the words Esther and keshet? She had no clue why he had called the words. No matter. She couldn't even get out of this room.

  At least Oberste had returned the Kindle Rayden had bought her but not the cord. Every night, they would take her Kindle away to recharge it. She was thankful they at least let her have the Kindle during the day. They had blocked the WiFi and so she could read only what Rayden had pre-loaded. She assumed Oberste had combed through the books—or at least had his men do so.

  Rayden had loaded a few novels but mostly Christian literature. She quickly read through those that interested her, and then she read The Prophet and found herself enjoying the insights. After that, another book caught her eye—Lee Strobel's The Case for Christ. Having nothing better to do, she began reading.

  As she walked the treadmill, barefoot, she read. Day after day passed. They would have been monotonous days if it had not been for the excitement that coursed through her from her reading. Why had she never thought of these things before? Lee Strobel presented very compelling reasons to believe in Christ.

  Gisa searched on the device for more books on Christianity. She quickly read through all those Rayden had preloaded. She reread many and next turned her attention to the Bible, something she had once considered a fairy tale. Now, it suddenly had new meaning. She still wasn't sure, although now she was not truly agnostic—there had to be a God. But was it the God of the Bible? Rayden had said she was searching. It wasn't true then, but it was now.

  * * *

  Rayden

  Rayden came out onto a road and decided to walk along the shoulder instead of sticking to the woods. Sam had driven a little over a hundred miles east before he had dropped him off. It was more than he had expected. He was indebted to so many. How could he continue to take and give so little?

  And still, with the help he had received, it had not brought him any closer to Gisa. As far as he knew, he could be moving away from her instead of toward her.

  The only thing he could think to do was head to Cumberland Falls. Somehow, someway, perhaps she had heard the words he had spoken, figured out what he had meant, and would meet him there, be waiting for him when he arrived. He knew it was a foolish hope, yet it was all he had.

  He still had some achiness in his leg and arm. Sure, he had walked in the woods around the cabin, but now he was trudging along the side of a road, over rough spots, and his leg was weakening by the minute. Prometheus seemed as fresh as ever, although his tongue lolled from his mouth. The dog walked by his side, never leaving him, looking up at him on occasion as if to be sure he didn't miss anything. Rayden was glad of the companionship.

  With not a cloud in sight and the sun bearing down, he had rolled up his shirt sleeves. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and he swiped it away from his eyes. The scenery was beautiful, and he stopped a couple of times just to gaze around.

  He came around a curve. A car with a flat tire was parked on the shoulder. A gray-haired man was struggling with removing bolts. He glanced up, sweat glistening on his forehead. His eyes squinted in the bright rays of the sun.

  Rayden stopped and motioned for Prometheus to sit. “Need help?”

  The man wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, leaving an oily streak. “Reckon so. I can’t get this one to break loose."

  Rayden dropped his pack and took the lug wrench from the old man’s hand and soon had the nut loosened.

  The man waved him off. "I'll take it from here."

  Rayden watched as the man finished changing the tire.

  He turned to Rayden and eyed him, one brow raised. “How much do I owe you?"

  “Not a thing. Happy to help out.” Rayden lifted his pack, realizing the man must have thought he was waiting to be paid.

  But before he stepped away, the man knelt down and offered his hand, palm down, to Prometheus. Prometheus sniffed and wagged his tail. The man then ventured a scratch behind the dog's ears.

  "Nice dog," he said as he stood. "Used to have a German Shepherd. Best dog I ever had." He rubbed his hand on his old jeans before holding it out to Rayden.

  Rayden gripped the man's hand firmly. "Yes, they're good dogs."

  “Much obliged. If you won't take payment, how 'bout I at least buy you lunch?”

  Rayden hesitated and swept a hand toward his dog. "Sounds good, but I've got my dog with me."

  "We could find a fast food place with
a drive-through.”

  Rayden looked down at Prometheus. "What do you say, boy?" Prometheus flapped his tail.

  "Okay. We'll accept." Rayden opened the back door and motioned Prometheus to sit on the floorboard.

  "Where you heading?" the man asked when Rayden had buckled his seatbelt.

  "Kentucky. Do you live around here?"

  "No. I'm just passing through on my way home to South Carolina. I've been out here buying a bull to have shipped to me." The man cranked the car and pulled onto the road. "Kentucky? You plan to walk all the way to Kentucky?"

  Rayden chuckled. "Well, I'd rather ride."

  The man cast him another glance, appraising him. “I’m Andy Anderson.”

  “Richard Brown. Nice to meet you.” Rayden watched the scenery for a few minutes before Andy spoke again.

  “Are you originally from Kentucky?”

  Rayden paused, not wishing to lie to the friendly, open-faced man. "I'm from the Appalachian area."

  "Going through some rough times?"

  Rayden thought carefully about what to say. “I was staying with a friend, having some health problems. I'm better and decided it was time to head home.”

  The man shook his head. “You're a long ways from home.”

  Rayden didn't know how to answer that, so he stayed quiet.

  Andy narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You’ve not got family or friends to help you?”

  “Seems like everyone's going through hard times these days.” He needed to come up with a cover story, some way to explain how he happened to be so far from home, with little money, and no friends or family to help but could think of nothing.

  “Got a job waiting for you?”

  “No, sir.”

  "Like you say—everyone seems to be struggling now days. I have a farm, and I'm almost out of business, what with taxes, high electric bill, and the price of gas. Still raising cows, and I grow a little cotton. Can't offer you a job—barely scraping by myself, but I can at least give you a lift. I'm heading down to Atlanta—got a little business to attend to there—and then back to South Carolina. It's up to you. Would you like a ride?"

 

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