Chapter Six
Chris gripped her phone tightly and paced her small living room as she told her mother about that morning’s encounter with the Exalted’s followers. “They walked right up and said all that about planning a wedding—in front of my friends and the sheriff and everyone. Now I know they all think I’m a freak.”
Harley sat up on his bed by the sofa and watched her, forehead wrinkled in what seemed to Chris to be an expression of worry.
“It doesn’t matter what they think of you,” April said. “You can’t let the Vine get you in their clutches again.”
“I know that, Mom. And I’m being careful.”
“Now that they’ve found you, they won’t give up until they have you back,” April said. “You need to leave.”
Leaving had been Chris’s first thought too. But Rand’s plea wasn’t the only thing that had stopped her from packing up and fleeing. “I have a good life here,” she said. “I’m tired of running.”
“Then come stay with me for a while. Just until they give up and leave town.”
“And risk leading them to you? No.” Her mother had worked hard to get away from the Vine. She had changed her name, her job, and her appearance, and kept a low profile in a small town in Ohio. Chris stopped at the window that looked down into the alley below. Her car was parked there, next to a large trash bin. Otherwise, the alley was empty. “I talked to the local sheriff today,” she said. “I told him about Dad.”
“He’ll never find evidence that he was murdered,” her mother said. “The Vine would make sure of that.”
“I know we buried Dad in the woods,” Chris said. “But I don’t remember much about it.”
“There was a funeral. The Exalted gave the eulogy, which was supposed to be a great honor. I don’t remember anything he said.”
“That didn’t strike you as odd—that no law enforcement was called, or a local coroner, or anything?”
“No. We didn’t involve outsiders. Our motto was that we took care of our own. Now I can see how that allowed the group to get away with horrible things, but at the time it seemed perfectly normal.”
“There’s a doctor here. He works with search and rescue, and he was there when Jedediah and two other men confronted me. Rand—the doctor—said if I stay, he’ll help me fight the Vine.”
“He doesn’t know anything about them. He’s probably just trying to impress you.”
“He said his sister belonged to a cult. She committed suicide. He wants to keep them from hurting anyone else.” She could still feel the impact of Rand’s confession. He hadn’t dismissed the idea that strangers would try to force her to marry or that she might be in danger from a harmless-looking back-to-nature group. He knew the power groups like the Vine could wield.
“Do you trust him?” April asked.
Chris didn’t trust anyone. It had never felt safe to do so. “I believe he’s sincere,” she said. That wasn’t the same as trust, exactly, but it was more than she could say about many of the people she’d met.
“Then let him help you. But don’t depend on him.”
“I know, Mom. The only person I can depend on is myself.” How often had she repeated those words over the years? But they didn’t make her feel stronger—only more alone.
“And me,” April said. “You know I’ll help you any way I can.”
Harley stood and whined. Chris glanced at the dog. “I need to go now, Mom. I’ll keep you posted on what happens here.”
“I’ll meet you anywhere, anytime you need me,” April said. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mom.” She ended the call. Harley paced, the hair on the back of his neck and along his spine standing up. He let out a low growl and trotted over to the door.
Chris was on her way to the door when she heard footsteps in the hallway. Heart pounding, she checked the peephole. Jedediah’s grim features glared back at her. Then he pounded on the door.
“Go away!” she said.
“We need to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“The Exalted wants to see you.”
“I don’t have anything to say to him either. Go away.”
“I’m here to take you to him.”
“I’m calling the sheriff right now,” she said, and pulled her phone from her pocket. She hit the nine and the one, then watched as Jedediah turned and left.
She sank to her knees and wrapped her arms around Harley, who still trembled with agitation. When she felt a little calmer, she focused on her phone once more. She didn’t call 911. Instead, she selected the number she had programmed into the phone only that afternoon.
“Chris? Is everything okay?” Rand sounded a little out of breath. She tried to picture him, perhaps in doctor’s scrubs. Or would he be at home?
“Jedediah was just here,” she said.
“Did you call the sheriff?”
“I told him I would, so he left. I just... I wanted someone to know.” Someone who might understand.
“I’m at the hospital in Junction. Is there someone else you can call to stay with you?”
“No, I’m okay. I have Harley. He let me know Jedediah was here before he even got to the door.”
“What happened?” Rand asked. “What did he say to you?”
“He told me the Exalted wants to see me. I told him I didn’t have anything to say to him, and then I said I was going to call the sheriff. He left. It’s almost funny, really, that he thought I would meekly come with him. As if I was still nine years old.”
“If he comes back, don’t waste time talking to him,” Rand said. “Dial 911 right away.”
“I will. I won’t keep you any longer. I’ll see you at the training tonight.”
“I’ll pick you up, and we can go together,” he said.
She started to protest, then imagined parking in that alley in the dark. It would be so easy for Jedediah and others to grab her. “All right,” she said. “Thanks.”
She ended the call and stood. Harley followed her to the desk in the corner, where Chris opened her laptop. She would write down everything she knew about the Vine and do some research online to learn whatever she could. Some people said knowledge was power. She would need every advantage to defeat someone like the Exalted, who was so accustomed to getting his own way.
R AND CHANGED OUT of his scrubs and made a quick stop at his house before he drove to pick up Chris. He removed his Sig Sauer M17 from the safe, loaded it and slipped it into his pocket. He didn’t trust the members of the Vine not to come after Chris again, and he wanted to be prepared.
He parked in the alley next to Chris’s Subaru and waited a moment after he shut off the engine, searching the darkness outside the circle of light cast by the single bulb over the door leading to the stairs to Chris’s apartment. Nothing moved within those shadows, so he pulled out his phone and texted Chris. On my way up .
She met him at the door, her dog by her side. Harley eyed him warily but made no sound as Rand said hello, then offered the back of his hand for a sniff. “Good dog,” Chris praised, rubbing behind the ridgeback’s ear. “I’m ready to go,” she said, and picked up her keys.
He waited while she locked her door, then preceded her down the steps, pausing to check the alley before he stepped out in it. He was a little surprised at how easily he slipped back into this mode of being on patrol, as if he was back in Afghanistan, where something as simple as walking to the latrine could make you a target.
Chris said nothing as she stood close behind him, then hurried after him to his car, head down. Harley followed, and hopped into the back seat of Rand’s SUV. “I couldn’t leave him,” she said of the dog. “I’m too afraid Jedediah or someone else might try to hurt him.”
“No problem,” Rand said. “I like dogs.”
She remained silent all the way to search and rescue headquarters. The brightness of the room and the hum of conversation was jarring after the tension in his car, but he felt her relax as she sank into the end of the sofa and took out a notebook and pen. He sat beside her and did the same but couldn’t shed his wariness as easily.
“Hey, Chris, how are you doing?”
“Everything okay, Chris?”
“Hey, Chris. You good?”
One by one, the gathered volunteers made a point to stop by and say hello. Those who hadn’t been at the call-out for the fire would have heard about Chris’s encounter with the members of the Vine. None of them asked any questions, though Rand read the curiosity in their eyes.
Chris accepted the attention calmly. “I’m good, thanks,” she told anyone who inquired.
An elfin young woman with a cloud of dark curls approached. “Hey, Chris, how are you doing?” she asked. “I’ve been meaning to tell you how much I love your hair. And your tattoos.” She glanced at her own bare arms. “I’ve been thinking of getting a tattoo myself, but my mom would probably have a heart attack if I did, and my three brothers would lose their minds.” She grinned, deep dimples forming on either side of her mouth. “Which is kind of why I want to do it.”
“Bethany, this is Rand,” Chris said.
“Hey, Rand.” Bethany offered her hand. “I’m glad you joined the group. For one thing, it means I’m no longer the newest rookie.” She bent and patted Harley. “I miss my dog,” she said. “But when I moved here my parents wouldn’t let me take Charlie with me. I think they thought if they said that, I wouldn’t leave, but they were wrong about that.”
“Where are you from?” Rand asked, as much to spare Chris from the steady stream of chatter as out of genuine curiosity.
“Waterbury, Vermont. I’m one of four and the only girl. To say that my parents and brothers are overprotective is an understatement. I practically had an armed guard with me everywhere I went. Living here, by myself, is a whole new experience.”
Sheri Stevens took her place at the front of the room. “I better get to my seat,” Bethany said. “I just wanted to say hi. Maybe we can get together for coffee or a drink sometime.”
Before Chris could answer, she was gone.
“She’s certainly friendly,” Rand said.
“She’s a little overwhelming,” Chris said.
“All right, everyone. Let’s focus on this evening’s topic of wilderness first aid,” Sheri began. “This will be a review for some of you, but it’s a requirement, and standard practices do get updated from time to time, so pay attention.”
Rand figured he could have taught the class, given his experiences in a field hospital, though he hoped a local search and rescue group would never have to deal with treating people who had been hit by improvised explosives or sniper fire. His mind drifted to his fellow volunteers. He didn’t know most of them very well, but he was impressed that they would give so much time and attention to helping others, most of whom were probably strangers passing through the area, on vacation or on their way to somewhere else.
After an hour, they took a break. Ryan and Caleb joined him and Chris at the refreshment table. “We think that group that escaped the fire is camping out at Davis Draw,” Ryan said. He picked up a peanut butter cookie and bit into it.
“Where is Davis Draw?” Chris asked. She didn’t look alarmed.
“It’s off a forest service road at the end of County Road 14,” Caleb said. “It’s not as nice as the area where they were—less trees, mostly desert scrub. And they’ll have to haul water.”
“How did you find this out?” Chris asked. She stirred sugar into a cup of coffee.
“We drove out there and saw a bunch of trailers and big tents,” Ryan said. “Some guys asked what we were doing, and we told them we were looking for a place to camp. They said they had the whole area. We asked what they were doing, and they said it was a religious retreat.”
Chris nodded but said nothing.
“I guess it’s good to know where they are,” Rand said.
“There’s a two-week limit on camping in the area,” Caleb said.
“I don’t know how well that’s enforced,” Ryan added.
Chris shrugged. “They can do whatever they like,” she said. “I really don’t care.”
“Time to get back to work,” Sheri called, and they moved back to their places.
Chris leaned toward Rand again. “There may be a two-week camping limit, but they aren’t going to leave until they have me,” she said.
“They will if we persuade them that they’re wasting their time,” he said.
She pressed her lips together and shook her head, but she said nothing else as the lights dimmed and Sheri resumed her lecture.
At evening’s end, they stayed to rearrange chairs and clean up. Danny found Rand carting the coffee urn into the tiny galley. “Did I tell you that one of your jobs as medical adviser is to help update our treatment protocols?”
“Sure, I can do that.” Rand set the urn on the counter. “Any particular protocols?”
Danny made a face. “It’s been a while since any of them were reviewed. Could you meet one day next week to go over them?”
“I’m off on Tuesday. Would that work?”
“That would be great.” He glanced over his shoulder, then turned back, his voice lower. “I saw you sticking pretty close to Chris. Is she okay?”
“I’m fine.” She moved in behind them with a handful of paper plates. She shoved the plates into the trash and faced Danny. “If you want to know how I’m doing, ask me.”
“Sorry.” He held up both hands. “But if you need anything—anything at all—you can call on any member of the team. We’re not just about saving tourists, you know.”
Her expression softened. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
They exited the building and started across the parking lot, only to be hailed by Bethany. “I work at Peak Jeep Tours,” she said. “Stop by if you’re ever in the neighborhood. I’d really like to know you better.”
“Um, sure.” Chris hurried away, and Rand sped up to keep pace with her.
“Why is she so interested in me?” Chris asked when he caught up with her.
“I think she’s just friendly.”
“I’m not used to other people focusing on me—or caring so much,” Chris said when she and Rand were in his car, headed back toward her apartment. “It feels a little uncomfortable.”
“ Uncomfortable but not bad , right?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
“You can ask. That doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”
“Fair enough. The blue hair and the tattoos—is that a fashion choice or another way of disguising yourself?”
She didn’t say anything for so long he thought he might have offended her. But he had learned early in his medical career about the value of giving people plenty of time to answer hard questions. “A little of both, I think,” she said. “My mother dyed my hair the day we escaped the camp, and I kept changing it over the years so I would look unfamiliar to anyone who knew me before. As for the tattoos—” she held out her arm “—we were taught that religious offerings were supposed to be perfect. Unblemished. I think in the back of my head I thought the Exalted would view a tattoo as an imperfection. That’s why I got the first one, but after that, I liked it. It was another artistic expression.” She shifted in the seat. “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious. They seem to suit you.”
He pulled up to the door at the back of her building this time and met her beneath the light, waiting while she unlocked the outside entrance. They mounted the stairs side by side. She glanced down at his hand tensed at his side, as if reaching for something. “Are you carrying a gun?” she asked.
“Yes.” He pulled up his shirt enough to show a holstered pistol. “I was in the military for years. I got used to walking around armed.”
She nodded and they continued to her door. Once there, she turned to face him. “Look, I appreciate your concern. I really do. But these people are unpredictable. They seem nice and normal, until they aren’t.”
“I know that already. Remember, I’ve dealt with a cult before. They reel people in by appearing perfectly sensible and smarter than everyone else.”
“Right. It’s just...if something goes wrong, don’t blame yourself, okay? You’re not responsible for me. I’m not your sister.”
Her expression was so earnest, her dark eyes so full of concern. As if she was more worried about him than about herself. His gaze shifted to her lips, full and slightly parted. “I don’t feel about you like I do my sister.” The words emerged more gruffly than he had planned. Then he yielded to temptation and kissed her.
For a fraction of a breath, she became a statue once his lips were on hers, unmoving. Not breathing. Then she pressed one hand to his chest, fingers slightly curled, seeking purchase. She arched into him, returning the kiss. He cupped his hand to her cheek, her skin hot, as if blushing at his touch. With a breathy moan, her lips parted, and she pressed against him, fitted to him, supple and strong. He wrapped both arms around her, cradling her to him yet holding back, his feelings so intense he feared crushing her.
She broke the kiss and stared up at him, a dazed expression in her eyes. “You’d better go,” she whispered.
He wanted to argue but didn’t. Instead, he reluctantly released his hold and waited while she unlocked her door and disappeared inside. He heard the dead bolt engage, then turned and moved away, down the stairs and into the darkness. So much of him was still there on that landing, wrapped up in that unexpected kiss.
He didn’t see the person who came up behind him, only felt his presence and started to turn; then something hard crashed into his head, driving him to his knees. “Chris!” he tried to shout, but the word came out as a murmur as darkness swallowed him.