Lionel imagined the GC storming the place, finding the hideout, and hauling the people out one by one. The GC loved torching things during their raids to destroy evidence and instill fear in believers. With the vigilante law in effect, his friends would be unable to escape.
A sickening thought raced through Lionel’s mind. Had he and Judd been the reason the group was discovered? Had someone seen them stealing away earlier and called the Global Community? The idea turned Lionel’s stomach.
Something moved to Lionel’s right, and he grabbed the flashlight. A flash of red. Two eyes darted through the bushes and were gone.
Then something hissed to his right. Judd had said something about a snake when he was coming down the hill. Maybe it was his mind playing tricks. Maybe the whole thing—
Hiss …
Lionel slowly turned his head and came face-to-face with a coiled snake, only a few inches from his face.
18
LIONEL froze in horror. He had never liked snakes. When he was a kid, he couldn’t bring himself to touch a page with a snake’s picture on it. He’d had nightmares of hundreds of snakes writhing in his front yard. Those dreams sent him to his mom and dad’s room quicker than the noise reducer sent Ronnie to the bathroom.
Lionel was close enough to see the snake’s tongue slither in and out of its mouth. He looked at its eyes and thought of the nature show he had seen that said you could tell if a snake was poisonous by the shape of its head. The snake didn’t rattle, but the markings were strange. Perhaps it was a copperhead.
The thing is probably looking for food, Lionel told himself. He’ll realize I’m too big and go away.
The snake inched closer, angling toward the rock and Lionel’s trapped arm.
“Nice snake,” Lionel whispered, then rolled his eyes. I’m talking to the thing like it’s a puppy.
The snake’s head pulled back a few inches, and Lionel was sure it would strike. He closed his eyes and fumbled for the flashlight or phone, anything to throw.
Movement in the bush startled him, and a small animal jumped out and danced around the snake, pawing and nipping. A fox! The snake retreated, trying to find safety under the huge rock, but the fox hopped forward, blocking its way and dodging the snake’s strikes.
Lionel wanted to cheer the fox on, but he was afraid it would scare the animal. Instead, he lay still and watched the action, silently praying.
The fox chased its enemy to the hillside and out of sight, but Lionel wondered if the snake was really gone. He had always heard that snakes don’t attack people unless you enter their territory, but he’d never believed it.
He closed his eyes and took a breath. Though he hadn’t moved, the excitement of the encounter had raised his heart rate. His skin glistened with sweat, and the cool air of the early morning gave him a chill.
The fox returned, sniffing at the air by the rock and licking its paws. The animal was thin and wiry, and Lionel could see its hipbones sticking out. The fox didn’t pay attention to Lionel, as if this heroic act were a normal part of its day.
“Hey, boy, thanks for the help,” Lionel whispered.
The fox looked up. Lionel expected it to bolt, but it just stared at him. Lionel picked up the sandwich, and the fox darted backward toward the hill, then slowly sniffed at the air.
“I have something for you, if you want it. It’s not much, but it’s all I have. You want it?” Lionel held out the sandwich, hoping the fox would approach.
Instead, it sat, studying the food and the teenager. It put its front paws on the ground and stretched.
Suddenly, Lionel felt a wave of pain and nausea. Whether it was the adrenaline rush of the encounter with the snake or too much blood loss he couldn’t tell, but he felt tired and cold. He draped the backpack over him just before he lost consciousness.
Vicki talked with Marshall by phone, the man giving instructions for what they should do. Mark was driving to the midwife’s house, and they were still a few miles away. “Make Cheryl as comfortable as possible,” Marshall said. “We’ll call as soon as we find her.”
“Her water broke, and she’s feeling a lot of pressure,” Vicki said.
Marshall paused. “So she’s further along than we thought. Okay, Wanda doesn’t use a phone, but she might be by her computer. Write her.”
Vicki found the address for the midwife and quickly wrote a message, asking if there was anything more they could do for Cheryl. As she waited, Vicki noticed reports about miracle workers from around the world. These were the new breed of Nicolae’s messiahs, changing water to wine, healing the sick, and doing various magic tricks to confuse the world.
A return message from Wanda came a few minutes later.
Your friend is going to want to push, but don’t let her. The passage the baby has to come through has to dilate—or open up enough for the baby’s head to come through. There’s a chance she could be ready, but from what you’ve said I doubt it. I can tell you how to check, but I’d rather be there. Get a watch and figure out how many minutes between contractions. Your friends in the car should be close to me. If they have a phone, I’ll call you from the road.
Wanda
Vicki borrowed Conrad’s watch and hurried back to Cheryl. When a contraction came, her stomach tightened, she closed her eyes and grabbed whatever was near. The first contraction lasted about forty-five seconds. Vicki pressed the stopwatch button and counted.
One minute.
Josey put another pillow behind Cheryl and encouraged her to relax until the next contraction.
Two minutes.
Vicki watched the timer count up, praying more time would pass before the pain began again.
Three minutes.
Shelly took Vicki’s arm in hers. “Are you ready to become Aunt Vicki?”
Vicki forced a smile. “Aunt Vicki is fine. I’m just not ready for Dr. Vicki.”
“Ow, ow, ow!” Cheryl screamed. “Here it comes again!”
Vicki glanced at the watch. Three minutes, twenty-eight seconds.
Lionel opened his eyes slowly. It was still dark, but he had no idea how long he had been asleep. Five minutes? An hour? A slight wind blew from the east and he shivered.
The fox was close, sniffing at the sandwich in Lionel’s hand. Lionel remained still and watched the animal inch forward like a hungry pup. It licked at the peanut butter and backed away, then moved forward again and took a bite. When it came back for more, Lionel let go, and the fox pulled the sandwich near the rock and devoured it.
“Hope you enjoy that,” Lionel whispered. “You deserve it.”
Lionel felt strangely comforted by the animal and wondered if God had sent it. Could an angel appear as a fox? He shook his head. The loss of blood was even affecting his theology.
Lionel tried to think of a verse that applied to his situation. There was something in the Psalms about God being a refuge in times of trouble. In other places it described God as a rock, but Lionel didn’t want to think about that. He reached for his left arm again and noticed the blood was almost dry. The tourniquet had worked.
He sipped some water and watched the fox lick its lips. The sandwich was gone, and there was nothing to keep the animal near. Still, it stayed, and Lionel was grateful.
As soon as Judd had gotten past the hill and the stream, he quickened his pace and ran toward Salem over the path they had followed. Normally, he and Lionel watched the compass and headed northwest, making sure they stayed in the woods or other places with few people. The jog back seemed unfamiliar, but Judd knew he was going in the right direction. When he finally reached the edge of town, he got his bearings and headed for the hideout.
Judd prayed for Lionel as he ran. What had begun as the last leg of their journey had turned into a nightmare. In the past few months two of his friends had died at the hands of the Global Community. Chang Wong, his contact in New Babylon, constantly lived under the pressure of being watched inside Nicolae Carpathia’s palace. The farther Judd ran, the angrier he be
came at Carpathia, GC Peacekeepers, Morale Monitors, bounty hunters, and Satan himself.
Judd stopped by a tree a hundred yards from the hideout and caught his breath. He realized he was angry, not just at the evil around him but also at God for allowing it. The whole thing was somehow part of God’s plan, but Judd didn’t understand it.
A sudden flash in the distance caught his attention. Judd studied the landscape in the moonlight and figured it was the reflection of headlights on a window. He moved into the open pasture, angling toward a barn and running close to the ground.
A single beam of light swept over the field. Judd hit the ground immediately and rolled, trying to find a low point. The beam swept over him just as he spun into a dip in the field.
Judd wondered who would be out at this time of night. He waited a few minutes, listening for voices, but only heard cars in the distance. When enough time had gone by, he peeked toward the light but saw nothing. He rose and darted toward the barn. Suddenly, a radio crackled and Judd’s heart sank. He reached the barn and put his back flat against the outside wall. He was in shadows and felt safer, but he had to get a look at the safe house.
He crept through shadows inside the barn. Though it still smelled of hay and animals, it was empty, save for an old hay baler and some rusted plows. He climbed into the loft, the soft moonlight shining through the weathered boards.
Judd pressed his face close to a hole and spotted the farm machine shop where he and Lionel had stayed. Several men stood at the side of the building. An orange glow appeared, and Judd realized a few people were smoking.
No one at the hideout smokes, Judd thought, and they wouldn’t be outside anyway.
Judd had a bad feeling the safe house wasn’t so safe. He looked out another opening in the barn and spied an old tractor parked a few yards away. Judd wanted to find help for Lionel, but he had to make sure his friends at the safe house were okay.
Within a few minutes after finishing the sandwich, the fox left. Lionel felt more alone than ever. He nearly cried when the little red animal turned and headed into the woods.
“Okay, Lord,” Lionel prayed aloud, “you were good enough to send me someone to keep me company and chase that snake away. Now I need somebody strong enough to lift this rock.”
The crickets and frogs lulled Lionel back to sleep.
Judd crawled the final few yards to the abandoned tractor and hid behind its massive wheel. He counted five men by the door to the safe house. They kept quiet, looking out at the field.
Finally, a man in a GC uniform approached, and the men stood at attention. “Commander Fulcire wants you to know you’ll be rewarded for your actions tonight,” the Peacekeeper said. “Because of your alertness, we were able to detain a number of unmarked citizens tonight.”
The group applauded, then whooped again when they heard they would divide the bounty for each of the citizens equally.
“Though the prisoners wouldn’t give information before they were … uh, taken care of,” the Peacekeeper said, “we believe the first report to be true. There are two more heading north, and if you’d like to be part of that search party, follow me.”
After the group went inside the former safe house, Judd caught his breath. Someone had seen Lionel and him leaving the safe house. Judd had to throw these men off the track and get help to Lionel before they found him. But how?
Judd duck-walked to the GC cruiser, reached through the open window, and grabbed the microphone to the radio. “All GC Peacekeepers, repeat, all GC Peacekeepers,” Judd said in an official tone, “we have an alert of two unmarked citizens now crossing Highway 56, just east of town. These may be the two spotted earlier. Out.”
Judd threw the microphone into the car and hustled back to his hiding place. The men poured from the building followed by the Peacekeeper who tugged at the microphone on his shoulder.
“Verify that last transmission,” the Peacekeeper said.
The radio remained silent, but already the men had jumped in their cars and were racing toward the highway. Judd didn’t know how long he had before they figured out his call was a hoax, but he knew he had to look for help somewhere else. He glanced at the sky. Only a few more hours before daylight.
Vicki counted the minutes between contractions. A few came within two minutes of each other, while others came five minutes or more apart. Cheryl grew weaker with each round of contractions, sometimes writhing and shouting in pain. Josey did what she could to keep the girl calm but gave Vicki a worried look. Cheryl was panting, taking in short gasps of air between screams. Josey whispered that Cheryl could pass out from lack of oxygen if she didn’t breathe slower.
On the next contraction, Cheryl let out a piercing scream. “I can’t take it anymore! I want to push. I have to!”
“Call Marshall,” Josey said, holding Cheryl down.
Shelly stood at the foot of the bed. “Guys, look at this!”
Vicki rushed to Shelly’s side and gasped. She could see the top of the baby’s head in the birth canal.
19
VICKI felt a mix of awe and fear. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of the baby’s head, but she nearly fainted when she realized they would have to deliver it alone.
“Calm down,” Josey said to Cheryl.
“I can’t calm down! I’m about to have a baby!”
“Call Marshall again,” Vicki said to Shelly as she moved closer to the bed. The top of the baby’s head was hairy.
“Can I push?” Cheryl said.
“Wait,” Vicki said. “Wanda told us not to let you—”
Cheryl screamed.
“They’ve got Wanda,” Shelly said, holding the phone.
“Let me talk to her,” Josey said.
Vicki was glad someone else was taking charge. She didn’t want to be the one caring for the baby. What if she dropped it? She had heard stories of women giving birth in cabs, police cars, and even grocery stores, but she never thought she would see one born in a secret hideout.
“Yes,” Josey said, “we can see the top. Okay. Uh-huh. All right.”
Vicki stepped aside as Josey examined Cheryl. Vicki put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. The last contraction had passed, and another was coming quickly.
“All right, she’s ready to push,” Josey said.
“I can?” Cheryl said with relief.
“Wanda says to wait until the next one comes, then take a deep breath and push through the contraction.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Cheryl said.
“I’ll help you, honey, just relax until—”
“Here it comes!”
Vicki moved to the foot of the bed. When the contraction began, Cheryl took a breath, held it, and closed her eyes. Her face turned red, and Josey told her to take another breath, but the girl kept pushing. Vicki looked down and saw the baby’s head move an inch forward.
This is really happening, Vicki thought.
“Shelly, get some of those sterile cloths,” Josey said.
“I don’t know what to do,” Vicki said.
“Just help me encourage Cheryl,” Josey said. “You’re doing fine.”
Vicki found herself breathing and pushing along with Cheryl, her heart beating like a drum. “You’re doing great, Cheryl! Good girl! It won’t be long now.”
The contraction wound down and Cheryl sat back, panting like a dog. Josey wiped her forehead and held the phone to her ear as Wanda gave instructions.
Cheryl’s eyes widened, and she clutched the bedsheet. “Here comes another one!”
With each gasp of air and each push, the baby’s head moved farther forward. Suddenly, Vicki saw the face of the child.
“The head’s out!” Josey cried into the phone.
Vicki studied the child. “Its face is blue. Maybe that’s normal, but—”
“Here,” Josey said, shoving the phone into Vicki’s ear.
“Tell me what you see,” Wanda said.
Vicki could hardly contain her emotion. She had
known Cheryl for several months and had talked with her about the baby, but in all that time of feeling it move, it had all seemed so far away. Now, staring at the child’s face, Vicki wiped away tears of joy.
“The little face is pointing up, toward the ceiling,” Vicki said, “and its color is kind of blue-green, like the color of your veins, and it’s got the cutest—”
“Okay, listen carefully. I want you to put your fingers near the baby’s neck. Don’t let Cheryl push. Just feel the baby’s neck and tell me if there’s anything there. Hurry.”
Vicki used both hands and felt around the baby’s neck. “Yeah, there’s something here.”
“What’s it feel like?”
“I don’t know. It’s kind of like a big, fat worm. Kind of squishy.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“What?”
“Vicki, we don’t have much time. That thing around the baby’s neck is the umbilical cord. We have to move it fast.”
“How?”
“We need to reduce the pressure by easing the cord over the baby’s head.”
“I don’t think I can—”
“You have to,” Wanda pleaded. “It may already be too late, but you have to try.”
“Okay, but how?”
“Grab the cord with your fingers.”
“I’m trying, but I don’t want to hurt—”
“Hurry, Vicki! See if you can pull the cord toward you. Does it move?”
“It’s slippery.”
“What’s going on?” Cheryl said. “Is the baby okay?”
“Lie back and rest,” Josey said.
“Can you pull it?” Wanda said.
Hunted Page 13
