What Lies Beyond the Fence

by L C Hayden

  “Anything else?”

  Bronson eyed Roger, analyzing him. “You’re talkin’ about those strange marks by everyone’s name.”

  Roger nodded. “What do you make of them?”

  “At first glance, I assume that’s some kind of a code for each teen who comes to live in Eric’s Landin’. Why the code instead of the name—that I don’t know.”

  “I can explain,” Norma said. “When we first arrive, we’re frightened and confused. The Elders hand us a piece of tin where we carve out our names using those patterns. The continuous pattern helps us to relax and makes us focus on something other than our problems. When we finish carving out our repetitive patterns, we hand them to the Elders. Couple of days later, they return them to us. Each has been welded into a tube. We’re given a candle, which we place inside the tube, and voila, we have our own unique light. Kind of cool. For most of us, that’s the first thing we’ve ever created.”

  Bronson had heard of those “tubes.” The Mormons had used them to create rectangular type candle holders. Maybe that’s where the Elders got their idea.

  During Norma’s explanation, Roger’s eyes narrowed, and he sat very still.

  “There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?” Bronson asked.

  “A lot more.”

  Bronson gave Roger a few seconds to compose his thoughts. “Explain.”

  “The symbols we carve for ourselves are four or five at the most. Yet the symbols that follow the name are longer, more complicated. Out of curiosity, I started to study the text, looking for the possibility of a code. I wasn’t serious about it until Vera went away. I thought maybe it would tell me where she was sent. I wanted to see her again. Maybe write to her. Without anyone knowing, I worked harder on decoding the code, and that’s when I learned the truth about Eric’s Landing. I now understand why they want me dead, and why you, Mr. Bronson, will never survive this.”

  Chapter 25

  Bronson looked down at the book. He couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out how this book could possibly lead to their deaths. “Show me.”

  “I consider myself an arm-chair cryptologist. Do you know what that is?”

  “A person who deciphers codes.”

  Roger thrust out his hands in the thumbs up position. “Very good! Do you know how we decipher code?”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “If we have enough cipher text, then certain patterns become obvious. Letters in bold and italic are the keys to find plaintext messages. When one word is substituted for another word or sentence, that’s using code, but when you have a mix up or there’s a substitution of existing letters, then you’re using cipher. To complicate matters, this book combines codes and ciphers by substituting one word for another or one letter for the other and then mixing up the results.”

  Bronson glanced around. The wolves, as far as he could tell, had gone. The sun was beginning to finally set, which probably meant it was close to midnight. Now, more than ever, they had to keep the fire going. He threw a piece of wood in. He noticed Roger studied his every move.

  Bronson was getting the drift of what Roger was trying to show him but still felt a bit confused. “But in order for the cipher to be useful, doesn’t the method used to encipher the original message have to be known at the sending as well as the receiving end?”

  Roger nodded. “Once again, you’re correct. That’s why I’ve been searching for the algorithm in the plaintext. Word lengths—especially the short words—provide us with great clues as to the nature of the code. I also look at the line-shapes that surround each letter. Letters have been transposed, making the reader think that the author didn’t know how to spell. Basically, what I looked for—and found—was the key used with the algorithm to allow the plaintext to be both enciphered and deciphered. Here, let me show you.” He opened the book.

  Bronson waved his hand. “Let’s skip the lesson for now. Instead, tell me in plain English what the book says.”

  “It’s a detailed account of where each person was sent and when he or she—mostly she—was sent.”

  “That’s what you were lookin’ for.” Bronson nodded in approval. “You found Vera.”

  A coldness and darkness embraced Roger so that when he looked at Bronson, all Bronson saw was the anguish in Roger’s eyes. “As far as I can tell, Vera was sold for $80,000 to a rich Saudi Arabian lord. No one leaves Eric’s Landing and goes to a happily ever after. No one goes to visit their parents who all of the sudden want them. Most girls and boys are in there to be sold.” Roger pointed toward the direction of Eric’s Landing. “That place is simply a cover up for a very successful and profitable human trafficking ring.”

  Shiiit.

  Chapter 26

  “I’m one of the lucky ones,” Norma said. “I will never be sold.”

  “Why’s that?” Bronson asked.

  “Because I belong to—to what? The right group?” Norma covered her face for a few seconds and sighed. “Some are there because they have a special skill that’s needed. Those are your doctors, teachers, mechanics, chefs—like my dad—and even the geniuses, like Roger.”

  Roger rolled his eyes and looked away. “I’m not a genius.”

  “Okay, a near genius.” Norma smiled and winked.

  Roger shrugged. “They, along with their families, are protected. Since Norma’s dad is essential to the unit, Norma will always be safe.”

  “The second group is the beautiful people,” Norma said. “Boys and girls—some as young as four and some as old as in their mid teens.”

  “Those are the ones who are sold,” Bronson said.

  Roger nodded. “For the first few weeks we’re there, we’re well fed, cleaned up, and groomed. Then our picture is taken—for the records, supposedly. But now I know that the real purpose of those pictures is to send them to prospective buyers. Once the transaction is made, the product is delivered.”

  “All of that is in the book.” A statement, more than a question. Bronson’s gut told him Roger and Norma had stumbled into the truth.

  Roger nodded.

  “Not much we can do now, so let’s try to get some sleep. Norma, you and I will keep watch while Roger sleeps. Then we’ll rotate. I don’t think the wolves will be back, but we can’t let our guards down. We’ll keep the fire going and make plans in the morning.”

  “The fire is good. It gets cold at night,” Roger said.

  “Curl up in the fetal position to keep warm. I’ve got some blankets, but they might not be enough.” Bronson reached for some nearby branches. “Use these and twigs to put over the blanket. Right now our biggest risk is hypothermia.”

  “Definitely we don’t want that to happen,” Norma said. She stood up and got busy gathering branches and twigs.

  Bronson and Roger did likewise.

  * * *

  It hadn’t been the best night Bronson had spent, but under the circumstances, all went well. He even managed to get maybe two hours of sleep. Morning came early, much to everyone’s delight. A quick breakfast of dry cereal and bread energized them.

  “I went over several scenarios last night.” Bronson bit into his bread and wished he had a cup of coffee—even a bad cup would be good now. “Here’s the best one I came up with. You two stay here—”

  Roger started to protest, but Bronson waved, telling him to be patient. “As I was sayin’, you two stay here. I’ll head back to the compound and fill up with supplies. I’ll get as much as I can without arousing anyone’s suspicions. I’ll also try to get some information of what’s out there. If we continue to head blindly downhill that sure will take us nowhere fast.”

  “Shouldn’t you confide in someone?” Norma asked.

  Bronson thought of Aubrey Hamilton, his assigned guide. Could he trust her? “I’m not sure we should let anyone know I found you until we know for sure where everyone stands.”

  “I was thinking about my dad.” Norma’s eyes watered.

  “I’ll consider it,” Bronson said, mo
re to give her peace of mind than because he truly trusted him.

  “I have a candidate,” Roger said.

  “Go on.”

  “Everett Henderson. The book mentions all the other four Elders and tells what their jobs are. Everett’s sole responsibility is to bring people in. As you know, he’s the one who rescued me from the streets. I really believe he thinks he’s helping us. I swear he has no knowledge as to what’s going on.”

  He has to be blind not to know what’s happenin’ under his own nose. Still, it would be nice to have someone on the inside, especially an Elder. “For the moment, let’s keep this between the three of us. We’ll soon learn who to trust, but until then—” Bronson made the motion of zipping his lips.

  “Out here, who would we tell?” Roger smiled. “The wolves?”

  Bronson smiled back. “Will you two be all right?”

  Roger nodded and put a protective arm around Norma. “The question is, can we trust you?”

  Bronson reached into his wallet and retrieved a folded piece of paper. He handed it to Norma. “Hopefully, this will convince you. It’s a note from your grandpa, Joe Randig.” He watched Norma read the note. When she finished, she smiled, folded the piece of paper, and stuffed it in her pants pocket.

  Bronson turned and headed back toward the compound, his mind filled with dark thoughts.

  Chapter 27

  As soon as Bronson approached the compound, he could see a man standing on the other side of the fence. The man stood straight and waved his arms, using wide, exaggerated arcs.

  As Bronson neared, he recognized Everett Henderson, the Elder who had brought him here. Bronson waved back.

  “You didn’t come back last night.” Everett shouted so he could be heard. “I was really worried.”

  Bronson waited to answer until he was within talking distance. “I thought I found their trail, and I didn’t want to lose it.” He shrugged. “Eventually it faded away, and I’m out of supplies, so I thought I’d come back and reload.”

  Everett watched as Bronson took off his backpack. “If you didn’t find them this time, what makes you think you’ll find them next time?”

  “I know what I’m lookin’ for now. I hope that leads me to them. Besides, as long as those two are out there, I won’t give up lookin’ for them.”

  Everett’s face brightened with the realization. “So they are together.”

  “Hard to tell. For their sake, let’s hope so.”

  “Glad to hear that.” A light, nervous laugh escaped Everett’s lips. “I’m so glad we found you. Don’t know what we—or those kids—would do without you. How can I help you? Please don’t tell me there’s nothing I can do. I feel so helpless.”

  Bronson raised three fingers. “Actually, there are three things that need to be done.” He lowered two fingers. “One, I could use various supplies. I’m anxious to get back to searchin’ for those teens. The sooner I get what I need, the sooner I can get back to the woods.”

  “Make a list and I’ll have Aubrey start gathering the items even as you write.”

  “Good.” Bronson raised a second finger. “Two, keep my return as quiet as possible. When people see me, I want to catch their initial reaction, in case anyone knows somethin’ that they’re not tellin’ us.”

  Everett’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “I would have never thought of that. What’s the third request?”

  “I don’t feel like crawlin’ back into the compound. Can you open the front gate for me?”

  “Absolutely, no problem. I’ll go get that done right now. I’ll wait for you at the gate.”

  “I’ll be fine, thank you. I can let myself in. You can lock it later. Instead, go find Aubrey and have her start gatherin’ some of the supplies.”

  “We don’t have a list.”

  “Start with food. Nothin’ that would attract any animals. Canned food or food that is airtight, lots of water, energy bars—anythin’ along those lines. I’ll start makin’ a list as soon as I get to my room. I might try to catch a fifteen minute nap.”

  “Good enough.” Everett turned, heading away from Bronson.

  Bronson followed the fence, hoping against hope that Everett would forget to lock the gate. At least Bronson had done what he had wanted to accomplish, and that was to be free to move around the compound. He knew exactly what his first stop would be.

  Chapter 28

  As Bronson neared the gate, his eyes focused on the ground outside the fence. No tire tracks leading into the compound. No road either. How could that be? They had to get their supplies somehow. Definitely a puzzle to be solved at a later time. Right now, his main concern was Roger’s and Norma’s safety. Then notify the authorities, bust the place, and free all those being held captive under false pretences.

  Bronson let out a sigh of relief when he saw that no one was watching the gate. Maybe he could do as he wanted and that was to break into Swanson’s office. He wanted to take a good look at those topographical maps. He let himself in and closed the gate behind him.

  He lowered his head, shoved his hands in his pockets, and quickly headed for Swanson’s office. So far, so good. Luck was with him. He had almost reached his destiny and no one seemed to notice him.

  “Bronson!”

  Shiiit.

  He stopped, turned, and saw a man in his mid-forties with deep-set eyes run toward him. Bronson recognized him as Norma’s father. What the heck was his name? Bronson quickly searched his mind. Chris. Chirs Karsteter. Yes, that was it.

  Chris reached Bronson but didn’t stop until he stood inches within Bronson. “Tell me you found her. Tell me you brought her back. Where is she?” He looked around as though she hid from him.

  Bronson wrapped his arm around him and led him around the corner, where less people congregated. “I thoroughly searched the area. There’s no trace of blood or any violence.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  Bronson wished he would keep his voice down. He didn’t want to attract any attention. “It means that I’m going back out there with more supplies. Soon as I know anythin’, I’ll let you know.”

  Chris’ eyes watered. Bronson hated to lie to him, but at this point, he didn’t know who to trust. Had he brought his daughter here even though he knew what the compound was all about? “Look, I promise, she’s safe. It’s in my gut, and my gut feelin’ has never let me down.”

  Chris grabbed Bronson’s shoulders and squeezed. His mouth shut tight and his eyes slit as he focused on Bronson as though any minute he would deck him. When he spoke, his voice was harsh. “That’s not good enough. I can’t trust your gut. You bring her back to me, and you bring her back safely. Do you hear me?”

  Bronson shrugged him off, thus releasing the hold on him. He stepped aside. “I understand you’re hurtin’. I too am a father. I know I would be goin’ crazy if anythin’ happened to one of my girls. But believe me, I’m doin’ all I can to help your daughter and Roger.”

  “Don’t you dare mention that name to me. He’s the one who brought this on her.”

  “You’re right, but I still plan to help both. Now, release me so I can go about my business and get back out there where I can do some good.”

  “C-can I come with you?”

  “Do you have any experience trackin’ people or even walkin’ in the woods?”

  Chris lowered his gaze. He shook his head.

  “Then I’m afraid you’ll be more of a hindrance than a help. Norma is safe. I promise you.”

  Chris closed his eyes and tightened his features. Slowly, he nodded. “Go with God.”

  “Thank you,” Bronson said and dashed toward Swanson’s office. He had no idea what he would do if Swanson was there. He prayed the room would be empty.

  Bronson reached the office and knocked. No one answered. He knocked again. Again, no response. Aubrey had told him that no one in Eric’s Landing locked their doors. He would test that statement. He reached for the doorknob and turned it. It easily opened.<
br />
  Bingo!

  He let himself in. Since he knew where the maps were kept, he immediately climbed the sliding ladder. Once on top, he noticed that two sets of maps existed. Swanson hadn’t mentioned the second set.

  Interesting.

  Bronson retrieved both sets. He quickly spread the second set, the one he hadn’t seen before. He bent over and started to study it. Immediately, he noticed a dirt road less than a mile down the hill from where the compound was located. Why wasn’t it in the other map?

  Interesting.

  If he followed that road—

  The door behind him opened. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Bronson looked up and stared into Swanson’s angry eyes.

  Chapter 29

  Bronson straightened up and assumed a relaxed position. He was the kid who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but he saw nothing wrong with that. He smiled. “Hey, Swanson. I thought maybe your topographical maps would tell me if there are any caves in the area. The kids could be hidin’ in one of them. I didn’t think you’d mind if I took a second look at your maps.”

  Swanson flew to Bronson’s side, scooped up the maps and rolled them back up. “I do mind. We have a chain of command in here that is strictly followed.” He tucked his lower lip behind his front teeth, making him look angry or anxious. Or maybe both.

  The door behind them opened and Everett stepped in. “Don’t blame Bronson. Blame me. I was the one who gave him the maps. I couldn’t find you, and I thought you wouldn’t mind. I mean, after all, we all want the same thing. We want to find those kids.”

  Swanson’s gaze bounced from his Elder to Bronson. “Fine, but next time, ask me. Go do whatever you need to do, then come back and ask me for the maps. I’ll be here waiting for you.”

  Bronson walked out, feeling like a student who had just been dismissed from the principal’s office.