Chapter 21
I think it’s day three of being in the bunker, but I’m not sure.
James lets me out for a little bit of time each day.
Usually it’s when the men who regularly guard me are on their lunch break.
This is the third time he’s let me out, so I assume it’s day three.
I have to admit it’s a nice change from being locked away in the tornado shelter for weeks at a time.
“You feeling okay today?” he asks as we sit in the shade of the overhang of the wooden building that looks like an outhouse.
My hand goes to my stomach, and I rub my little blessing who is finally taking a nap.
Judy makes sure to send over real food that I love and crave.
I haven’t seen her, but I know she’s the one making it, because she leaves little notes of encouragement on the napkins with the meals.
She’s found me some prenatal gummies, and I hope that this baby boy isn’t affected badly since I’m starting them so late.
“The bigger I get, the more uncomfortable it’s been,” I tell him honestly.
“That’s the same thing a foster mom told me once,” he says as he looks out over the massive farm.
“You were in foster care?” His admission surprises me, but I suppose it shouldn’t. He’s only seventeen.
“Yeah, ’til about a year ago when I was finally adopted,” he tells me, and I watch as his shoulders slump down. “Thought I found my forever home but got put here in this hellhole instead.”
“Try being raised from birth in it,” I mumble.
“One more year and I’m getting the fuck outta here.” He startles as he realizes that he’s said it out loud. “I…mean—”
For the first time in I don’t know how long, I burst out in a laugh at his words. “I felt the same way. How do you think I ended up here having to be watched?”
“You tried to leave?”
“I did, but they found me,” I tell him.
“What are they gonna do to you?”
“I don’t know yet, but I’m hoping that my boyfriend finds me before they get a chance,” I say.
“Why’d you want to leave?” he pries. I can tell he’s struggling just like I was a few years ago when I was shipped off to Colombia.
“This place isn’t what I thought it was. Right after graduation they shipped me off to South America on a mission trip. That’s when I started questioning everything.”
“Yeah, that’s what Stan keeps talking about for me when I finish my homeschooling,” he informs me.
My body shudders at the thought of another kid having their life ruined because of Papa and The Fellowship.
“Don’t go,” I tell him urgently. “If you can get away and never look back from this place, then do it. I learned about all this way too late.”
We sit there and watch as the activity around the farm increases. More vehicles are driving through the vast property as men hustle around like someone is coming to inspect the place.
“Do they let you go into town?” I try to casually ask.
James shakes his head.
“Stan saw my internet search for local bus stations on my tablet after I finished with school last week. I’m on lockdown ’til further notice, which is why I’m here watching you,” he tells me sadly.
My chances of getting word out to Beckett start to slowly fade.
“You mentioned being adopted? When did that happen?” I ask, changing the subject so that I’m able to stay outside a little longer.
“Yeah, been in the system since I was four. Was moved around quite a lot from home to home. ’Bout a year ago, I came home to my foster home where Stan and Marie were there waiting.
Foster mom had all my things stuffed in trash bags waiting by the door.
” He pauses looking out at the newly mowed field.
“Thought it was the best day of my life. Stan and Marie were so nice and loving. They took me to a sit-down restaurant and let me order anything I wanted.”
“Was this here? In Sweetwater?” I ask.
“No.” He shakes his head. “I was living in Snyder, just north of here. In fact, there are a few other kids here from that area that were adopted around the same time I was.”
I suck in a breath. Is The Fellowship going around essentially taking children to build up more numbers for their cause? What a horrible life for these kids.
“I’m sorry this has happened to you,” I say.
The sound of a plane touches our ears and we look up.
Planes aren’t uncommon, but from the loud noise, it seems like it’s right over us and so very close.
My hand shields my eyes as I look up to the sky.
A plane, smaller than a commercial one, comes into view.
It circles around the property and a sinking feeling hits my stomach.
Reaching over, I place a hand on James’ knee.
“If you see an opportunity to get the heck out of here, do it. Flee to town and go straight to the police chief, Turner. Tell him you need to talk with Stone or Havoc from the Dead Road MC. They will be able to help get you out of here.”
“Do you know them?” he asks, his voice sounding hopeful.
I nod. “I do and they’ll help you,” I assure him. “Tell them I sent you—”
I’m cut off by the sound of multiple vehicles zooming by, heading in the direction where the plane was lowering to the ground not too far from where we are at.
“What’s going on?” He stands as we watch the SUVs disappear from sight.
“Not sure, but I have a feeling it’s not gonna be good.”
A white van pulls up next to us and two men and woman climb out.
“Get her back inside, boy!” one of the men yells, adjusting the AR around his body.
James grabs for my hand to help me stand.
“Remember what I said. Get yourself to the police chief and ask for help,” I whisper.
“I will and I’ll help you leave too,” he hurriedly says in a low tone.
The woman comes around with a white clothing bag in one hand and is carrying a large duffle bag in the other.
“What’s all that for?” James asks.
“Why for her wedding, silly,” the woman states.
“Wedding?” the question leaves my mouth before I can swallow it. James squeezes my hand tightly, and I’m thankful for the comfort at this very moment because my knees feel ready to give out. “I’m not getting married.”
“Shepherd Walter said that it’s time; Mr. Sanchez has arrived,” the woman divulges, ignoring me completely.
“Run along, boy, we’ve got it from here,” one of the men instructs James. “Go be useful somewhere else.”
James starts to protest, but I squeeze his hand, stopping him from saying anything.
“It’s okay, James,” I look up at him and realize just how young he looks.
He deserves so much better than this life.
I pray that he’s able to get away from all this before it ruins what is left of his childhood and innocence.
Leaning over, I swing my arms around his shoulders and bring him into a hug the best way I can with my bulging belly in the way and whisper, “Remember what I said. Go—get help.”
He nods then releases me, taking a step away from the group. James takes off in a sprint the opposite way from where the plane and SUVs were headed.
“Let’s get you ready, shall we?” the woman says while walking past me heading down into the bunker.
My feet are planted on the ground, unmoving.
“We can do this the hard way or you can walk on your own,” the other man informs me when I don’t follow the lady.
A hand latches onto my elbow and forcibly pulls me towards the door and steps. My mind is reeling. If Mr. Sanchez came on a plane then that means he’ll leave on the plane, which in turn, will include me. Getting on that aircraft will seal my fate, and I’ll never be found or be able to run.
“Watch your step,” I hear growled, not even realizing that I’d been shuffled down the stairs and almost miss a step. “Shepherd Walter said not to harm the child.”
Why do they care about my baby?
“Come, take a seat, let’s start on the hair,” the woman motions to a chair next to the wall. “I don’t see an outlet, so I’ll have to improvise, I guess.”
She does realize this isn’t some hotel but a freaking bunker in the middle of a field on a farm, right? I think to myself. My face must give her a confused look, because she narrows her eyes at me. Her calm demeanor is starting to slip slightly.
I’m hauled over to the seat, and as soon as my butt hits the chair, I’m poked and stabbed by pins, clips, and brushes.
Once it’s up to her standards, she starts to put makeup on me.
I’ve not had access to a mirror except for the shower I was allotted a few days ago, so I’m sure she’s pulling out the big guns to cover up how miserable I look.
“This is all I was able to find on such short notice,” the lady says, stepping away once she’s put the last of the makeup in her duffle bag.
She holds up the clothing bag by the hanger and shoves it towards me.
When I don’t make a move to reach out and take it from her, she huffs out a breath, annoyed.
“We all serve a purpose here with The Fellowship. It’s something I’d expect you know since you’ve grown up Shepherd Walter’s oldest daughter and all. ”
I hate when everyone wants to lump me in or expects me to fall in line with what my father is into. How hard is it to believe that I’m my own person and make my own decisions?
“I guess I’ve outgrown the concept of following blindly behind leaders who only have their best interest in mind,” I taunt. “Heaven forbid a woman does what she wants and chooses her own path.”
The lady looks as though I’ve just kicked a sickly dog. The disgust on her face tells me I’m barking up the wrong tree and not penetrating a single word to her simple mind.
With her nose scrunched up, she lets her eyes roam over me from head to toe.
“You should be so thankful that someone is willing to take on such a lost soul. Especially, in the condition you let yourself get into.”
It’s my turn to return the disgusted look. “You can’t possibly mean how my boyfriend and I made this beautiful child together. Or that we love each other so deeply that no amount of time will stop him from finding me or our baby.” I place my hand over my growing belly.