Devotion Apart

by Davin Bradley

  I took off the lid of the xylem oil and dipped my hand in its silkiness. First, I rubbed the liquid across my face, then through my hair, over my neck, and down my arms and hands. Remembering that the biometrics of RASH identified people by body features as well, I smeared more oil on my jacket, all over my jeans, and all the way down my hiking boots.

  Front and back, I was thoroughly covered in xylem oil. Gazing down at my arms and legs, even by the light of the nearby city, I shivered as Janae had to the eerie, dark nothingness that had swallowed me. There were cameras on Shay's perimeter wall, and more inside his property, but the xylem oil would render their view of me useless. If this worked, nothing would be able to identify me.

  I ran down the length of the field, feeling wide-eyed and free in the cool desert air. My mischief toward Shay seemed justified, since even Fletcher treated him as if he were above the law. But he wasn't above God.

  Worse yet, Shay himself had admitted to me that he had more ugly secrets. It was like he was daring someone to stand up to him, and I was that someone.

  At the end of the field, I skirted Chaparral Nursery to reach East River Road. I jogged up the Binge Road Bridge and knelt on the slope down by the river. There, I set my satchel against the bridge's highest girder, and returned to the road. There were no vehicles. Peaga Speedway was in sight less than a mile away, but besides its lights, nothing else illuminated the landscape.

  I jogged down River Road where it curved sharply east, and it was there that I turned into the ditch to find a way over the fifteen-foot wall. Up close, it was truly towering, high enough where I should've had a grappling hook. There was no amount of leaping or climbing trees here, since every bit of vegetation was cut back.

  I continued along the wall and finally came to the guard shack. A single man sat inside the little structure, which was situated just inside the gate to the left. Two cameras were in sight. But directly under the nearest camera, where the guard shack hugged the gate attached to the wall, there was no visual angle. But that was because it was in full view of the guard!

  From behind the wall, I spied the guard shack. The man's right shoulder and profile were in clear view, since he sat in the lit interior. The glass windows would be like mirrors from his point of view, since there were no lights outside.

  Creeping up to the window, I looked in at the desk where the guard sat. Two screens cycled through camera views at his elbows, but he wasn't watching them. He was playing on his phone. Maybe he was trusting in some sort of motion sensor alert.

  I climbed the fence, which was as high as the adjacent wall, then moved swiftly in front of the camera and onto the roof of the guard shack. I froze and listened, expecting a reaction from the guard, but all was quiet.

  I was in good physical shape, but I'd never been much of an acrobat. It required good balance to walk along the edge of the shack roof, since I didn't want to trust the center of the roof with my weight. On the opposite side of the roof, I knelt, then lowered my body down the outside of the shack. I left a smudge of xylem oil, but it would eventually wear away from the weather.

  Once on the ground inside the Shay compound, I ran straight into the hayfield that spanned the estate. Now I was regretting not exploring the estate a little more when I'd had RASH. The main house was three stories high. Between me and the house was the horse track to my right, the stables straight ahead, and two smaller, dark cottages to my far right. All of this was visible under the night sky.

  Working my way to the north, I reached the track and its low, outer railing. A little farther, I arrived at a set of bleachers, which could seat about forty people. Here, I hid for a moment and eyed the scene ahead. I wished there were more trees or cacti for cover. All I had was the low-cut hay field.

  Looking back at the gate, I noticed how far I had already come across the field. This was definitely reckless, but Shay's last words still rang in my ears: "You wouldn't believe the secrets I have in my possession." And then he'd given me the phone. What else did the man hold, if he'd held Craig's crime in secret for four months?

  Next, I reached the stables and hay barn. A low light lit the barn on both ends, and another camera orb was fastened above the eastern end, but I moved quickly under it, trusting the xylem oil to hide my features. In seconds, I was back in darkness.

  The main house, a rock and brick mansion, was lit up like an embassy. Two people moved on a narrow path from what I guessed were the servants quarters into the mansion. Maybe security guards making their rounds? No, they were probably cooks or a night cleaning crew. The household would require a small army to function.

  I crept toward the southwest corner, wary of the lights on the edge of the roof, staggered with cameras. Yes, the man took his security seriously. This was where he kept his secrets.

  The first floor windows were lit up. And I could see a couple of men and one woman moving about inside. Definitely cleaners. But no lights were on in the two upper stories, the living quarters.

  Circling the building, I stayed outside the fringe of light, even though on camera I would be just a shadow shaped like a man. At the very back of the mansion was a circular pool house, spaced twenty yards away from a back patio and outdoor pool. The pool was dimly lit. I hid behind the pool house to spy on the main house.

  Disappointed that I hadn't found any access, on account of the night cleaning crew, I readied myself to leave altogether when I heard a noise and lowered myself to the ground. Even with the xylem oil, I wasn't willing to move until I discovered the source of the noise. It was close. Someone or something was inside the pool house!

  I'd been so consumed with studying the mansion that I hadn't checked the pool house Someone must've been inside cleaning it, and I'd been careless!

  Still waiting, I heard the noise again. Faint but certain. Metal against wood. With care, I peeked into the nearest window. The indoor pool was lit as well, a shimmering turquoise rippling across the wooden rafters above. But no one was visible. Maybe it had been a generator or something mechanical.

  Then I heard it again. Not mechanical. Not animal. Someone was definitely inside the pool house!

  At that instant, I heard a cry. Anguish. Muffled frustration. Then a thump.

  With my back to the wall, I slid around the exterior to watch the main house. No one was looking. But there were cameras mounted on the mansion covering the back yard and on the pool house directed toward the mansion. To add to the complexity of the situation, I noticed a chain and padlock on the front door of the pool house. I'd have to find another way in.

  Retreating to the back of the pool house, I looked for a back door, something less exposed. There were only windows all around, and an open skylight. It was open about six inches, but I knew I could force it open all the way once I climbed onto the roof.

  My only chance was the rain gutter, which trailed vertically down to the ground after circling the roof. I removed my boots and socks, left them against the wall, and began to pull myself up the gutter. After two grips up, it separated from the wall, and the bolts tugged loose. Luckily, I was high enough and lunged to reach the side of the roof. My fingernails grated against the shingles, but I clawed my way up until I could swing up a leg and roll onto the roof.

  Lying on my back at an angle, I nearly laughed at the risks I was taking to climb into a locked pool house, all because of a noise. A couple of days earlier, I'd been in jail, preaching the gospel. Now, I was investigating what would probably be just a worn-out water heater making weird sounds. How desperate I was to find Shay doing something that could be used against him!

  But who puts chains on their pool house door? He had something to hide.

  I walked carefully across the roof to the open skylight. Sure enough, I was able to open it wide enough for me to drop in. But the pool was directly below. It looked to be about five feet deep.

  As I tumbled through the window, I gently allowed the sunroof to fall back into place. An instant later, I hit the water. As soon as I surfaced, I s
tood and wiped the oil off my face and hands. By the pool lights, I could see the oil was running off my skin, but it would take detergent to remove it from my clothes, which remained in shadow regardless of the shimmering light.

  Surveying the walls, I saw no cameras. It was a good thing, with my face now exposed. Yet even without cameras, I climbed out of the water, and kept my profile low in case any cameras from the main house had a view through the windows.

  Suddenly, I froze. It wasn't because of what I heard, but what I saw. And smelled. A metal toolbox, the type that pickups carried behind their cabs, sat alone against the far wall. A chain was connected to the cement floor, and trailed through a hole in the metal box. This was the same smell of the kidnapped victims days earlier in the slaughter house. The aroma of neglected, soiled humanity. I wanted to wretch.

  My heart thudded against my ribs. Previously, with Craig and my cell phone, I'd rushed into danger to boldly face opposition. But this was different. Now, I was at a disadvantage. Exposed, what could I do? Shay had manpower and worldwide resources. I didn't even have my knife. It was stashed in my satchel by the bridge.

  I took a deep breath of the foul air.

  The toolbox wasn't padlocked, only latched on the outside. I quietly unhooked the latch and raised the lid. The strong odor intensified, but I could not be daunted by the senses. Lifting the lid all the way, I leaned it against the wall and looked. Inside was a woman folded unpleasantly. Matted hair covered half her face. Her eyes were closed and her skin was pale. With so little air available and seeping in only through the hole where the chain trailed, I wasn't surprised that she was dead.

  The chain was connected to handcuffs that were locked onto her wrists in front of her. Reaching out, I brushed her hair aside to see her face, hardly expecting to recognize her. But I did recognize her. It was a face I'd seen on many billboards since I'd returned to Devotion. It was Tina Leaf!

  In that instant, I recalled the noise that had alerted me to the pool house. Was she still alive?

  "God, help us!" I gasped as I pulled Tina's arms out and thrust my hands under her listless body. From the toolbox, I lifted her then carefully laid her on the cool pavement beside the pool. I felt her neck. No pulse. But she must've just been alive. Her skin was clammy, but her body was still warm.

  I opened her mouth and gave her three breaths, then started chest compressions. Nothing happened, so I gave her three more breaths and checked her pulse. Finally, she gasped! After her first breath, her eyes opened a little, and I gently held her jaw with my hand. Looking around the room, I noticed a maintenance sink with a hose connected to the faucet. With much haste, I carried Tina closer, and held her in my arms as cold water trickled from the hose. She drank thirstily, but I limited her intake to avoid convulsions. Who knew the last time she'd drank water! Using the hose, I tenderly washed her face free of what appeared to be dried vomit.

  "You're okay now," I whispered. "You hear me?"

  Tears fell from her eyes, and I squeezed her hand.

  "Tina, I'm a friend of Sadona's. My name is Cord. Can you hear me? I'll get you out of here. Okay?"

  "Okay." Her voice just a whisper, her throat raspy.

  "Listen, Tina. Try to stay awake, okay?" I gently patted her cheek until she opened her eyes again. "I know you're tired, but don't give up now. Okay? Stay with me. We're going to rinse you off in the pool. Here we go."

  I slid into the pool fully clothed, careful to hold her face above the water. I rinsed out her clothes as she wore them, and floated her to the steps of the pool. The water was warm, and the chlorine would help kill bacteria on her skin.

  I carried her out of the water and carefully propped her against the back window. There was no way out of the pool house except to break a window.

  There were several patio chairs around the pool, but there was only one item heavy enough to break the window: the toolbox.

  "There's some irony in this," I said to Tina as I dragged the toolbox over to her. "The thing that held you captive is the thing that's going to break you free. It's gonna be loud. Can you run?"

  "I. . .don't think so. My legs. . ."

  "It's okay. I'll carry you."

  I lifted the toolbox onto its end, readied myself, then tipped it over. It fell against the back window, and like a sheet of ice, the glass cascaded straight down and scattered in shards over the toolbox.

  "Let's go!" I said, and scooped Tina into my arms. It helped that she used an arm to circle my neck.

  I charged left into the darkness and snatched up my boots. Then, I ran straight ahead for a moment before I realized I was running head-on into the high, back wall of the estate where there was no exit. Changing course, I turned to the right and half-stumbled and half-ran toward the guest cottages in the field. Too anxious to look back and see what might be chasing us, I focused on the lit guard shack far away.

  My arms began to cramp just before I tripped over the field's uneven ground and fell hard. I landed on my elbows, jarring my whole body to the bone, and Tina rolled free. I gathered myself and felt around in the darkness for Tina.

  "You okay?" I thrust my feet into my boots and tightened the laces. "We've got to get over that wall before they discover you're missing."

  "I can walk." Her hand touched mine as I readied to pick her up again. "It's okay. I can do it. I'm too heavy for you."

  "I know you can, but you have no shoes, and the ground will cut your feet to pieces. Climb onto my back and save your energy for when we're outside the gate."

  She conceded and climbed on. My eyes strayed to the main house behind us. The second story lights were on, and people were moving around. I hoped the security program Craig had installed to conceal me was still active.

  At a brisk walk, we moved toward the guard shack, and I contemplated our journey over the gate. It didn't seem likely that we could both scale the high structure in her weakened state.

  Thirty yards from the guard shack, we stopped in the shadows and she slid off my back.

  "Wait here," I whispered, and moved ahead on the paved road.

  The guard was standing and talking on his phone, facing away from us. Once again, I scaled the fence to reach the roof. I crawled across the roof, leaned off the side, and knocked lightly on the front door. A moment passed, and the door opened. The guard emerged with a flashlight and a drawn sidearm. I leaped off the roof, reaching for his gun.

  The weight of my body fell across his shoulders. He fell to the ground and was still. I touched his neck. He was unconscious. Inside the shack, I punched the large, round button that opened the gate.

  "Come on!" I waved at Tina, and she hustled into the light.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A half-hour later, Tina Leaf and I reached the bridge.

  "I have clean clothes here," I whispered to Tina on the slope under the bridge. From my satchel, I removed the only other pair of clothes I owned, and offered them to her. "The river water's not clean enough to drink, but you can bathe, then put these clothes on. I'll go up to the road and see if I can flag someone down."

  "You don't have a phone?"

  "No. Be quick. We need to head into the city before we're caught."

  I climbed up the slope to the highway and looked up and down East River Road. No lights. We were far enough from Shay Estate and his front gate where I couldn't make out too much beyond the high wall to the south.

  Suddenly, I crouched. Someone was out there. Someone without a flashlight or phone light. They were coming up the highway from Shay's property. I dug into my satchel for my knife, but quickly dismissed the idea. Killing wasn't an option, but that didn't mean I wouldn't protect Tina from further harm.

  She made no sound below, and I made no sound above as I dashed across the road and hid in the ditch. Poised like a panther, I waited, hoping I hadn't been noticed. My eyes were open wide, trying to draw in every fragment of visible light from the stars and the moon's illumination.

  A shadow moved above me on the road. It w
as a single man, stalking up the highway. Another twenty yards, and he would reach the bridge above Tina.

  "That's far enough," I said, but didn't move from where I lay on my belly, my limbs coiled under me.

  The person stopped mid-stride. I was comfortable in the darkness, but this was another sort of creature of the night. He had tracked us, without a flashlight. What ordinary man did that?

  "You have her?" he asked. I sensed a foreign accent. Malik Suuk! "You took her."

  "She's safe."

  "Not if she goes public."

  His statement was chilling and caused me to shiver. It wasn't just a statement, but a threat. Suuk surely knew Shay's darkest secrets, and he would protect his boss and himself at all costs.

  "We have an understanding," I said. "She remains quiet, and you leave her alone."

  "We have an agreement." He paused, and I wondered if he was armed, with a knife or a firearm. "With whom should I say is this agreement made?"

  "I'm no one important, Mr. Suuk. Goodbye."

  His posture changed, a silhouette seen against the starlit sky with dim city lights behind him. He was certainly unnerved not knowing me, but knowing I knew him. And he didn't know if I was armed or not.

  I waited until he was far enough down the road before I rose and crossed the highway. Tina emerged from below the bridge.

  "Who was that?" She took refuge in my arms, and I held her as we looked after the night visitor.

  "One of the men who took you. Do you know who it was?"

  "Adrian Shay. He claimed he'd let me go if I promised to shut my mouth about him shutting down Christian homeless shelters. Every couple of days, he'd let me out of the box to negotiate with me, as he called it."

  "Well, he's still negotiating. He'll come after you again if you aren't careful." With my support, I guided her across the bridge.

  "I don't care about being careful. And it seems neither do you. Thank you for saving my life."