by Tom Mohan
Burke looked over at Red, but she just stared back at him. “Dave, the kid says the same thing. I don’t know what’s going on, but this is too weird to be coincidence. Someone’s after me. Maybe you should let them take me. I don’t want to drag you and your wife into this.”
Burke felt a hard slap on his arm. “Don’t you dare,” Red said to him. “I’ve worked too hard to get you this far. You’ve been a serious pain in the butt, and I’m not letting you blow it now.” Burke started to ask her what she was talking about, but Katrina interrupted him.
“John, I’m only going to say this once—shut up. This is bigger than you, bigger than all of us.” She swiveled her head, and her sightless eyes looked right at Red. “Even her.” She turned back to her husband and placed a withered hand on his. “Hon, you have to get us out of here. You have to protect us.”
Martinez sighed. “Get your seat belts on.” He slammed the shift lever into reverse. Burke thought they were going to ram the police car, but the SUV screeched to a halt as Martinez cut the wheel hard to the left and took off across his pot-smoking neighbor’s front yard. The back of the car skidded on the hard-packed dirt before grabbing traction and launching the vehicle onto the pavement. Committed now, Martinez didn’t even slow for the stop sign at the corner.
Burke looked back as they sped through the residential neighborhood. The police car was close. He knew the heavy electric SUV couldn’t ever outrun the gas police car. He could only hope Martinez’s driving skills would somehow prevail.
“They’re right behind us,” Burke yelled. He slammed against the door as the car slid into a left turn, then his body lurched the other way as they straightened out. His eyes fell momentarily on the girl beside him. She looked so tiny, sitting there with her short legs sticking straight out, dirty little feet barely reaching the end of the seat, and hands resting on her lap.
Screeching tires and sudden deceleration tore Burke out of his musings and sent him lunging forward. Only the seat belt kept him from slamming into the back of Katrina’s seat. Just as abruptly, he found himself hitting his own seat as Martinez floored the accelerator once again. He chanced another look out the back window and saw they had put some distance between themselves and the police car, but their pursuer was rapidly catching up on the straight stretches.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Burke yelled.
“Nope,” Martinez replied. “Open to ideas though.”
Another skidding turn sent Burke into the door. His head smacked against the window. He winced in pain. Putting a hand to his head, he looked at the girl beside him. “Any ideas?” he asked.
The girl shrugged. “It’s your city,” she said in a calm voice.
“Thanks, you’re a big help.”
“You’re welcome.”
“The ghost isn’t being very helpful at the moment,” Burke said. Through the front window, he saw storefronts in run-down strip malls fly by. The early morning traffic was just beginning to pick up as the car swerved between the slower vehicles.
Martinez glanced at his wife. “We have to end this, and fast. Trinny can’t take this beating.”
Burke heard Katrina say something in reply, but he couldn’t make out her words. Another police car, lights flashing, came into view in front of them, hurtling their way. Burke grabbed the seat in front of his as Martinez cut the wheel hard to the right, guiding the SUV into a narrow alley. Walls flew by on either side of them. In a moment, they emerged from the alley, into traffic on another road.
The whole vehicle lurched wildly as a car slammed into the right rear quarter panel. The SUV spun to the right, against traffic. Martinez didn’t hesitate, pushing the injured vehicle into the oncoming rush. Burke looked back at the car that had hit them just as a police car flew out of the alley and broadsided it. Another car piled into the side of the police car before the scene disappeared when Martinez cut into another alley. For several minutes, Martinez made random turns, working his way out of the area while Burke kept an eye out for police cars.
“Now what?” Martinez asked.
“The river,” Katrina said, “go to the river.”
“Where?”
“The camp, where we took the clothes and stuff. The homeless camp. They’ll take us in.’’
Burke wasn’t so sure of that, but he kept silent. He didn’t know of any homeless camp that would welcome more people, not unless they had money, food, or something else to barter with. He looked to his left to see how the girl had fared through the ride, but the seat beside him was empty. With a sigh, he laid his aching head back and closed his eyes. Part of him wondered when this nightmare would end, but the other part realized he felt more alive at this moment than he had since Laura and Sara had disappeared. Battered, bruised, and seriously confused—but alive just the same.
To Burke’s amazement, the homeless camp turned out to be just as welcoming as Katrina had predicted. The people were well acquainted with Martinez and his wife and seemed genuinely happy to see them. Though Katrina was nearly spent by the excitement, she insisted on taking the time to greet their hosts and give them a short version of what had brought the three of them there. After a few minutes, however, her exhaustion became obvious, and some of the women took her to a quiet place to rest. Martinez followed along behind, not letting his wife out of his sight.
While the women got Katrina settled, Burke found a spot away from the homeless clan and settled down against a tree. The homeless were known to be suspicious of strangers and none too fond of the police, but this group seemed different. They had welcomed the group with open arms, even knowing Martinez was a cop. Katrina said this camp consisted mostly of Christians. He wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything. As far as Burke was concerned, Christians were no different than anyone else, and, if anything, worse than most.
Burke glanced around the clean, well-kept camp. People talked quietly or helped one another prepare the morning meal, while a group of children played in a clearing nearby. To him, it seemed a proverbial refuge from the storm. A place to momentarily let down his guard and relax. If only he could.
After some time, Burke closed his eyes and let himself soak in the peacefulness of the moment. The smell of cooking fires and food wafted through the air. Burke’s stomach grumbled. He had no idea when he had last eaten. Right now, he felt ravenous. He inhaled a deep breath of the enticing scents, wrinkling his nose at the faint smell of urine. The breeze must be blowing from the direction of the latrines, he thought. These folks knew enough to keep their camp as sanitary as possible. They were not homeless due to their own carnal squalor as was the case with many of their kind. These people camped here out of necessity, driven to this level of survival by a society that claimed to tolerate everyone. Driven here, even, by Burke himself. Burke hadn’t known many Christians, but, as a lawyer, he had been relentless in fighting against Christians’ bigotry and hate, helping to force those who refused to change into the shadows of society.
“Interesting day, huh?”
Burke opened his eyes to find a dirty face shrouded in red curls inches from his nose. He sighed and let his eyes slide shut again. “What do you want now?” he asked. He felt a light touch on his face.
“Does this hurt?” she asked.
“Does it look like it would hurt?” His skin tingled where she touched it.
“I wouldn’t really know.”
Burke opened his eyes again and studied her features. To him, she looked like any other four-year-old girl. He remembered Sara at that age. She’d gotten this dirty more than a few times, though he and Laura had never dressed her in a potato sack. “Who are you?” he finally asked.
She gave him a cute little grin and knelt down in front of him. “I am here to find you.”
“Okay…well, you found me. Now who are you?”
“No, I have not found you. I have found this body that looks like John Burke.” She giggled. “At least, you sort of look like John Burke.” She reached up with a tiny finger
and touched his swollen eye. “That must really hurt. Anyway, I have not found the real John Burke.”
He pushed her finger out of his eye. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Her smile faltered. “Everyone has a purpose, a reason for living. Do you believe that?”
Burke thought about it for a moment. “I used to,” he said, “a long time ago. I wanted to be a lawyer, to make a difference in a world that was falling apart. I thought that was my purpose.”
She smiled up at him. “That is a very good purpose.”
He shook his head. “No, it may have seemed good back then, but the world doesn’t want to be saved, and it doesn’t care who it takes down with it.” He felt familiar anger building inside him.
“I said it was a good purpose, not that it was your purpose.”
He looked down at her. “Okay, and just what is my purpose?”
The burlap covering her tiny shoulders lifted upward as she shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s why I have to find John Burke.” She tapped his chest. “He’s in here, somewhere, but until I find him, I cannot know his purpose or help him achieve it.”
“Are you like a guardian angel or something?” Burke asked.
“Or something. You humans always try to fit things into categories you understand, or you think it must not exist. You limit yourselves with that thinking.”
He stared at her.
“I’m older than I look,” she said.
“You can read my mind now? That’s twice you’ve said that.”
“Not your mind,” she said, “your face. I’m very good at it, actually.”
“So, you’re not a guardian angel, and you’re here to find John Burke, but not me, right?”
She sighed and gave him a childish, exasperated look. “Let me be as simple as I can be. You have a purpose, and in your current state you cannot fulfill that purpose. Something went wrong. The John Burke that was supposed to do something great disappeared, and you took his place. You veered off the path toward your destiny. I’m here to get you back on track.”
“Maybe you have the wrong John Burke. It’s a pretty common name. Maybe I’m not who you think I am.”
“No, you are who I think you are.”
“How do you know?”
The girl’s countenance fell. “Because,” she said, “the other side found you, too.”
Burke stiffened. “The other side?”
“Actually,” she continued, “we have both been in your life for quite some time. Me trying to get you on track, and the other pushing you further and further off.”
Burke considered this. “If you’ve been around for so long, why am I just now seeing you?”
“In an ideal situation, you wouldn’t ever see me. But things are getting out of hand. You saw some of it in your house last night.”
“What do you mean I saw some of what happened? What did I miss?”
The little girl shuddered. “You will have to ask David Martinez about that. I don’t even want to think about it. The depravity of the other side knows no limits.” She looked out at the camp. “Look around you, John Burke. What do you see?”
“What do I see?” He shrugged. “The camp, people, kids. What am I supposed to see?”
“Look beyond that. Open your mind. What else do you see?”
Burke had no idea what she was expecting him to see, but he figured it couldn’t hurt to go along with it. He tried looking past the people, past the ordinary things of the camp to anything else that might be there. At first, he detected nothing, but then he felt the light pressure of her hand on his knee, and something shifted in his perception. He still saw the camp and all that went on in it, but now he perceived something else, something dark.
“Now do you see?” the girl asked quietly.
He did see. He wished he didn’t, but he did. “They’re everywhere,” he said. And they were. All around the camp, shadowy forms danced and darted. A cold hatred radiated from them.
“Not everywhere,” the girl said. “They cannot come into the camp. The faith of these people protects them.”
Burke looked around and saw the girl was right, for the most part. “There are some inside the camp, but they seem to be attached to individual people.”
The girl smiled. “Very good, John Burke. The faith in the camp keeps most of them out, but a few are so well attached to their hosts that they are brought in. They can’t cause much trouble in here, though.”
“What are they?” he asked, though he suspected he knew what she was going to say.
“You already know, you just don’t want to admit it. They are evil spirits—the enemies of God and his people.”
Burke grunted and looked away. “I don’t believe in God.” He thought this would anger her, but her smile never wavered.
“Yes, you do. At least, the real John Burke does.”
Burke said nothing, not wanting to continue the conversation. He had been watching a little boy, about the same age as Red, maybe a bit older. At first, he thought the kid had been watching him. But as he got closer, Burke realized he was looking at the girl. The little boy kept moving closer, one shy step at a time. “Can he see you?” Burke asked her.
“Apparently,” she said. She watched the boy approach, a mischievous light in her eyes.
“Why can he see you?”
“Because he isn’t a gruff, unimaginative old person,” she replied without taking her eyes off the boy. The kid finally got close enough to speak.
“Wanna play?” he asked her, staring at the ground as he spoke.
The girl looked up at Burke, her eyes all puppy-dog innocence. “Can I? Please?”
Burke burst out laughing. “Sure, Red, go play.”
She stood up and started to walk away, then turned. “What did you call me?” she asked.
“I don’t know…Red? You never told me your name, and it kind of fits. With your hair and all.”
Red smiled at him. “I like it,” she said, then she giggled and ran off on her stubby little legs, looking and sounding every bit like a normal four-year-old girl—except, of course, for the words Idaho Potatoes running down her back in bold red letters.
A LITTLE OVER an hour later, a woman came and told Burke that Katrina wished to see him. He followed her through the cooking area and into a city of tents of all styles, shapes, and sizes. Its layout had no particular rhyme or reason, but it felt comfortable, like it was just as it should be. Now that Burke thought about it, the whole camp had felt that way. His guide led him to one of the larger tents and informed him that Katrina rested inside. He thanked the woman, and then pushed the flap aside and stepped into the interior. His eyes widened as they adjusted to the dim light. The tent was even larger than it appeared from the outside—at least twelve feet wide and ten deep. Even Martinez, who hovered near a bed on the far side, could stand up with room to spare. In one corner of the tent sat a vanity complete with a washbasin. The counter space held a bar of soap, along with toothpaste and a toothbrush. Burke had seen people bringing water from the river to a central point for boiling and distribution. From there, some of it must have been brought to this tent to fill the basin.
Beside the vanity stood a rack of men’s and women’s clothing, all neatly hung on hangers. Burke had the impression that the tent belonged to a couple—a rather important couple from the looks of things. A thick rug that had seen better days, but was still much nicer than he would expect to find in such a place, covered the floor. Near the wall, opposite the vanity, lay a bed. It might have been two mattresses stacked, or maybe an air mattress. This sure wasn’t sleeping bag camping. When Martinez turned, Burke caught a glimpse of Katrina propped up with pillows.
Martinez moved to speak with Burke. “I told Trinny what we found in the church,” he said. Burke nodded for him to go on. “She’s very weak. Says she feels stronger here, surrounded by the love of God, than at home.” He shrugged. “Anyway, she wants to talk to you. Remember what I said. She knows things. Since she got
sick, she’s had some kind of connection with angels. At least that’s what she says. I ain’t arguing with her about it.”
Burke nodded and stepped around the big man to approach Katrina. She had pulled herself to her feet and stood by the bed. As he drew near, she reached out and wrapped him in a hug, her grasp stronger than he would have expected in such a frail woman.
“I’m so sorry, John. So sorry,” she said. As Burke returned the hug, he felt her protruding bones through her thin clothing. She was so much smaller than him, yet he felt strength radiating from her. It shamed him. Tears brimmed in his eyes, yet it was all right. He held Katrina and let his sorrow flow into her strength, seeking some of that strength for himself. Finally, with a gentle squeeze, Burke released her and stepped back.
He took a deep breath to get himself under control. “It’s tough, but at the same time it’s good to finally know.”
“What about Sara?”
Burke could see the concern in Katrina’s face. He shrugged. “She wasn’t there, and that’s something.”
Katrina nodded. “Yes, that is something. Dave, hon, would you leave us to talk a bit?” Her husband hesitated, giving Burke a hard stare before mumbling, “Sure,” and slipping out of the tent.
Katrina sat on the edge of the bed, a sigh escaping her lips. “I apologize, but I just cannot stand for very long. Feel free to drag that chair over here if you like.”
He did so.
Katrina looked at him without a trace of condemnation. “Tell me about your life, John. Tell me how you’ve been.”
Burke closed his eyes and let his chin sink to his chest. How could he explain something he didn’t even understand? “After they disappeared, I was frantic. I mean, really nuts. I thought being a lawyer would help, that I could use my connections, and at first I did. Not just me—other family members of those who disappeared managed to convince the detectives our loved ones wouldn’t have just up and left. Of course, the condition of the church helped with the hype. No one could explain that.”
