The Women of Jacob’s Mountain Boxed Set

by Hining, Deborah;

  “Roger. One more thing. Stay off the radio when we get close. Someone may be listening. Over.”

  “Roger that. Over and out.”

  Over and out. Sally Beth hoped that would shut him up. It was hard enough to concentrate, without the sound of his voice in her head, and she was carrying three precious lives. It was scarier than she thought it would be.

  The Holy Spirits army had moved. Sally Beth peered down into the mangrove swamps, looking for any sign of the camp. She buzzed low once over the island, but then decided she should climb and look from higher up. If the Ugandans saw her obviously searching, she would give away the position of Alice and her company. Climbing higher, she saw that John had hung back, circling low over the lake, barely visible on the horizon. He was thinking the same thing and was waiting for her to find the Holy Spirits before he ventured in.

  “Okay, everybody keep your eyes peeled. They’re probably expecting us, and they’ll have somebody in the open to signal us. Or look for campfires, for tents, anything.”

  “There!” shouted Lilly. “Over there—on the east side—just where that peninsula starts to narrow.” She focused on the island and began snapping photographs.

  Sally Beth saw it. Ten men stood at the narrow strip of land between the water and the forest. She realized she would have to make a water landing, something she had never done before. In her memory, there was only that terrifying moment when John had wrenched the controls away from her, diving down, and the sudden splash as the pontoons sliced the water and they all were flung into the windshield. “Is everybody buckled up?” She held her breath and ran though the procedure in her head.

  John watched from a distance as Sally Beth pushed up into the clouds almost out of sight, and he waited until he was sure she had sighted the army. As soon as she began to descend, he circled back toward the island. If they had trouble, he wanted to make sure he was there. Sally Beth was a natural, and a quick learner, but she had landed a plane only a few times—the Super Cub only three times—and never in the water. He took a breath, watching the fragile vessel winging downward, and concentrated on what she should be doing, willing her to set the nose at the right angle, imagining how the water would rush up to meet her, how confusing the shimmer of the lake surface would be. He pushed his mind toward her, hoping to help her settle down smoothly, like a dragonfly on a flat, untroubled surface.

  She gritted her teeth, drew a breath, and hearing her heart pounding above the roar of the engine, she muttered, “Lord, if you were ever with me, be with me now,” then narrowed her focus on the silvery surface of the lake. Beside her, Lyla murmured her own prayer, and from the back seat, Lilly yelled out, “Sweet Lord Jesus, keep this thing upright!”

  “What was I thinking?” asked Phil, as the plane bobbed on the lake water and they all were taking a moment to still their pounding hearts. “When you all took off running, it never occurred to me that somebody other than you could fly. How many times have you landed this thing, anyway?” It had been obvious that Sally Beth was not an experienced pilot.

  “This plane? A few times. But never in the water.”

  “Oh, get over it, Phil,” scoffed Lilly. Any landing you can walk away from is a good landing. And look—there they are.” Some of their old friends in army fatigues, carrying guns, shields, and spears arrived at the shore just as John skimmed smoothly to a stop beside them. One of them called to them.

  “Don’t leave the planes here. You can be seen. Move them around to that inlet where you can hide.” He waved toward the southern end of the island. Dutifully, Sally Beth and John fired up the engines again and steered the planes into a small cove tucked into a stand of mangroves.

  Alice’s men met them with boats, which took them through shallow water for some distance, and when mangrove roots became so thick the boats could no longer move, they got out to fight their way through papyrus reeds growing in the marshy wetlands. Finally, soaked and caked with mud, they put their feet on solid earth, where they found Alice and Pastor Umbatu waiting. If they had resented their ragged, soggy journey, they forgot about it when they saw Lyla flying like a sprite over the last of the muddy banks to throw herself into the arms of her husband.

  Twenty-Three

  The camp was in disarray. Bundles and crates had been piled onto carts. People milled about, cooking on small fires or packing up the last of their belongings. Alice stood in front of one of the few tents still standing, surrounded by several men who bore rifles and spears, their kind, but watchful faces glowing darkly. She held her hand up when the group appeared at the edge of the camp.

  “All of you wait here. The Lakwena wishes to speak to Sally Beth,” she said, giving Sally Beth a meaningful look, then she turned and strode into the tent. Sally Beth followed her inside to find her settling into a chair that dwarfed her small frame. Alice gazed forward, unspeaking, before she sat up, stretching her neck, giving Sally Beth a long, appraising look.

  “My friend, the Lakwena sees something in you that he cannot decipher, something bigger and stronger than even he is,” she said in her light, girlish voice. “Although I had feared your sin had caused us to suffer loss in battle, he tells me otherwise.”

  Alice stopped suddenly and her eyes went blank, as if dead: the pupils shrank to mere pinpricks. Her young face hardened. “Prayer Warrior, who has the ear of Almighty God, you are timely come,” came the low, guttural voice of the Lakwena. “I call upon you to preserve the life of my servant Alice and her army, for I can protect them no longer. The enemy has learned the secret of this place, and they are at the door. You must pray for my servants, for they will suffer great defeat in the days to come.”

  Alice took a breath, the life came back into her eyes, and she said simply in her soft, Alice voice, “Did the Lakwena tell you I must be on my way?”

  “Yes, and I am to pray for you,” replied Sally Beth, biting her lip and wondering how helpful her prayers could be. How could she preserve the life of Alice and a whole army?

  “Good. The Lakwena has told me that your soul is pungent with the Spirit; your prayers are like incense.” Alice rose, going out of the tent as she called to her soldiers. Sally Beth did not have the heart to tell her that the Lakwena was mistaken, but she felt a small flutter of life in her spirit, and she took hope.

  Lilly broke into her thoughts as they strolled through the camp, saying goodbye to the friends they had made during the days they had lived among them. “It’s tough, seeing them go, knowing things are probably over for them, for Alice. The day I went with them, I somehow felt like we were invincible. I guess those days are done now. They’ve lost the last three battles. Once Amin’s army figures out they aren’t bullet proof, the whole charade falls apart.” She looked up to see Howard Graves standing nearby, his eyes locked on her.

  “You’d better go rescue Howard,” Sally Beth teased. “He looks as pitiful as Lamentations when Jimmy Lee’s been out of sight too long. And he sure doesn’t look like he belongs in this place. If he tries to go through the swamp without you, he’s likely to be eaten by something.” Lilly laughed and squeezed her hand as she slapped at a mosquito.

  “He’ll at least be eaten by these mosquitoes. Shoot, we all will be if we don’t get out of here.” She looked at Howard with wistfulness before she added, “You’d think I’d develop a taste for the rugged type. They’re much handier at getting you through the jungle, but I can’t stop myself from looking at those pretty city boys.” She walked toward him, stepping lightly, and as Sally Beth watched Howard’s face, she felt a sweet hope for her baby sister pierce her heart.

  Already, the army had completely broken camp. They had hauled boats to the edge of the island opposite the swamp and had loaded them, waiting for darkness before they attempted their escape. A sad aura of defeat hung about the place. Sally Beth watched them quietly moving about, until John appeared beside her. “We need to leave now,” he said gently. “The guide is waiting.” He nodded toward a soldier standing with Phil, Howard
, Lilly, Lyla, and Pastor Umbatu.

  “I know,” she said, reluctant to leave. “I’m sad for these people. They had such good intentions, and now, I see defeat in their faces. You didn’t see them the day they marched to battle, before their first loss. You’ve never seen anything like it. Such confidence and joy.” They turned toward the forest, leaving the camp and the defeated people behind them, walking side by side for a few paces before John finally cleared his throat and spoke.

  “I owe you an apology, Sally Beth. For all the stupid things I’ve done.”

  She was surprised. “You didn’t do anything stupid.”

  “Oh, I think so.”

  “You mean risking your life to go after me? Taking a couple of bullets? Keeping me from crashing into the lake? I wouldn’t call that stupid. I thought it was kind of sweet.”

  “Sally Beth! Did you just make a joke about the danger I was in? I never thought I would see you be snide.”

  She laughed. “John, I’m the one who owes you an apology. And I’m not even sure I’ve realized all the things I’ve done to wrong you. I need some time to think before I come clean. I’ve already made a big enough fool of myself.”

  “And pray tell, exactly how did you make a fool of yourself?”

  “You know.” She blushed, then stopped and turned to him. “John,” she said earnestly, “I love you, you know that, and I don’t regret what happened between us. But I took advantage of your generosity. I know I put you in an impossible situation, and I’m sorry. I was a little crazy, I guess, but I’m not making any excuses, and I’m sorry I did that to you. I was wrong, and I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway, and while I appreciate your trying to make me feel better about it, you can’t. You just have to leave me alone for a while and let me get over it.”

  John felt a great weight settle around his heart at the thought of her uncomplicated love—too generous, too freely given to him. He knew what he had done to her twenty-four days ago. She had lavished all of her love on him, and, in her most vulnerable moment, he had let her know he could not return it. And yet, she did not fault him for his cruelty. “You love me still? After all that?”

  “Well, why ever not? You think I can get over you just like that?” She snapped her fingers.

  “I thought you were—I thought I had hurt you, and you couldn’t forgive me.”

  She looked at him as if she thought he was crazy. “Hurt me? You’ve never been anything but kind to me.”

  “When I, when you—” He didn’t want to say it, to admit that he had fallen apart at the depth of her feeling for him. He shut his eyes against the vision of himself as she had looked deep into his soul and uttered the words, John, I love you. He knew he had flinched, had hesitated, had shown her his callous heart. He paused, took a breath, and launched in.

  “Sally Beth, in case you are wondering, when I look at Geneva now, all I see is a friend and I realize I never loved her like I thought I did. I was just in love with the idea of being lovestruck. To tell you the truth, I’ve been running from the real thing, and I was using her—my supposed heartbreak—as a shield, a shield against anyone who might want to love me. I have to admit, I don’t think I know how to really love anybody. I look at you, and I see beauty and grace and love and goodness and strength. I just wish I could love you the way you love me. And I am sorry I hurt you.”

  She pressed her hands against his chest. “You don’t understand. This is not about you and me. Whatever hurt I’ve suffered, I brought on myself. This is between me and God, and it’s complicated.”

  “Complicated how?”

  She sighed. “I let God down, and now things aren’t right between us. I need time to sort through some things, to beg His forgiveness, to learn how I’m supposed to love Him again before I can even think of anything else.”

  “Things aren’t right between you? Lilly told me you went to the mountain to pray for me, and while you were there, my fever broke, and I started getting better. How could things not be right between you?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think my prayers even reached Him,” she said miserably. “Either He chose to heal you without my intervention, or the medicines finally started working. I was just up there arguing with Him.”

  “Well—how did you let God down?”

  “I quit listening. I wanted what I wanted without even caring what He wanted. I got mad at Him. I ignored His will. I did my dead level best to seduce you.” She intoned the list like a somber clanging of bells. He didn’t know what to say, but he wanted to reassure her.

  “Sally Beth,” he said hesitantly, “We—we didn’t do anything.” He groped for the words. “You’re still a virgin, if that’s what’s bothering you.”

  She made a dismissive gesture. “This isn’t about my body parts, what’s been altered. In my mind, in my heart, my spirit, I did do something. I tried to run from God.” She hated to admit the next part. “I—I put you in His place. I wanted you—your love more than I wanted His. That’s worse.”

  John listened quietly, his head down as she continued. “And I wronged you, too. I asked you—demanded that you do something you knew was wrong, and I didn’t give you a choice, not even a little out. I made you feel like you would be a horrible person if you didn’t make love to me, and, John, I’m sorry! I knew at the time what I was doing.” She bit her lip and fought back the tears. “I’m so sorry! I was really, really weak, and I was feeling desperate and lonely, and I was so in love with you, and you loved Geneva. Oh, John, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I understand why you can’t love me back.”

  John was taken aback, and instinctively, he reached for her, wanting to comfort her, wanting her to know she was worthy of love from the right man, but just as he touched her shoulder, a sudden explosion rocked both of them from their feet. They fell to the ground as mud rose up, splattering them. The hill behind them erupted with people running and shouting. Raking the mud out of his eyes, John searched the area, only to see wild confusion. People streaked through the forest, running for safety, and behind them streamed an army of Ugandans, yelling and indiscriminately shooting automatic rifles. People were falling: men, women, and children screamed and collapsed, the blood flowing from their bodies, mingling with the mud, turning the place into a red quagmire where Death danced.

  “Run!” he yelled, pulling Sally Beth to her feet. Dragging her into a grove thick with mangrove trees, he pushed her underneath a root. Half submerged in thick water, they held onto each other and watched while dozens of men in Ugandan uniforms attacked the fleeing people.

  They waited, shivering in the quagmire of a sluggish stream until the last man passed, not daring to move until the noise had moved away from them, and then they bolted, rising to their feet, running downstream, falling through the swampy morass, until at last they came to the boats they had left tied to mangrove roots. Alice’s guide had already hustled Pastor Umbatu, Phil, Lilly, and Lyla into one of them. He sat with a white-faced Howard in the other one, grim, waiting. As Sally Beth and John emerged onto the wider swamp, the guide pulled her into the boat while John jumped aboard. They were just about to push off when they saw movement in the forest above them.

  “Get down!” hissed the guide, as he maneuvered the boat among the sedge. The other boat followed closely behind. Waiting in the thick air, heavy with the suffocating stench of rotting vegetation, the group felt fear rising and hovering above them, nearly as palpable as the cloud of mosquitoes attacking them. They did not have to wait long before they saw two men stumbling down the hill, carrying a limp Alice Auma.

  The guide sitting in the boat stood cautiously. “We are here!” he said softly, waving his hand. The men changed course, picking their way through the trees. Sally Beth recognized Francis and another man known as Tabor, although their faces were altered by fear and smeared with blood. A dark patch of blood stained the shoulder of Tabor’s shirt, and Alice was covered in blood from her shoulder to her hip.

  “Alice has been shot,” gas
ped Tabor, just as he sank to his knees.

  “Quick!” said Francis. “You must take her with you. She is alive, but you must get her to a hospital as quickly as you can.” He dragged his young commander down the hill toward the boat as the guide and Pastor Umbatu jumped out to run toward them, followed by all the others. Together, they laid Alice on the bank.

  She had been shot in the gut. A great, gaping wound slowly pulsed and sucked, seeming to inhale and exhale, breathing blood. Sally Beth bent to examine the injury. “Somebody give me your shirt or something we can stop this blood with,” she said. Several items of clothing were handed to her, which she stuffed into the gory, throbbing hole.

  “You must save her!” said Francis. “We still have time to get away; they are waiting for us on the other side of the island, but only you can get her to a hospital in time. Please take her in your plane.”

  Alice stirred. “No,” she moaned. “I have not been granted permission. We have not purchased the right…” she groaned loudly. Francis and Tabor looked at each other.

  Francis leaped to his feet, pulling coins and cowrie shells out of his pockets. “Give me what you have of value,” he said urgently.” I will take responsibility for this.” He flung the items from his pockets into the air. “Great Spirits, give us leave for Alice to enter the air!” Snatching coins from outstretched hands, he threw them high out over the water, watching them arc above the papyrus and sedge, then he turned to Alice and gently laid his hand on her cheek.

  “Alice,” he said softly. “We have purchased the right. The air will allow you transport, with the blessings of the Spirits.”

  She did not hear him. Her face had become still and gray, and the bloodstain continued to spread out over the compresses that could not stem the flow.

  Sally Beth stood to look around. Fajimi had used bur marigold on John’s wounds to staunch the bleeding, and she knew it grew in swampy places on this island. She jumped up to the firmer bank, walking quickly, searching, until her eyes landed on a patch of yellow daisy-like flowers growing in a sunny spot. Running to it, she grabbed a handful.