The Forsaken (The Chosen Series Book 2)

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The Forsaken (The Chosen Series Book 2) Page 9

by Patricia Bell


  “Yes, but we only learned the basics. Reading, writing, and farming. There was no use for anything else.”

  “True,” Luna agreed. “Wanna drive?”

  She threw the keys to Jonathan. If he was right, he probably didn’t pass their GED. It was a hard test for her, and she’d finished most of her high school.

  Jonathan snatched the air for the keys but missed.

  “They didn’t teach you how to catch either, did they?” She giggled.

  “I will show you what they did teach me.” Jonathan scooped up the keys and chased her.

  “Stop!” she screamed, running and laughing. As she hit the curb, she lost her balance and fell forward. Before she could face plant into the concrete, she was hauled backward by the neck of her shirt. Firm arms came around her, and before she knew it, she was in his embrace.

  He bent down and kissed her gently.

  “Is that what you learned in a school full of boys?” she whispered breathlessly.

  “Very funny.” He kissed her again, then carried her to the car, and deposited her into the passenger’s seat.

  She beamed as she watched the big strong man walk around the car to the driver’s seat. At first, she’d worried that her feelings for Jonathan were precipitated from her situation. Being held as a prisoner in a crazy community does very little for a person’s self-esteem.

  But as the months had come and gone, Luna found herself falling more and more in love with the crazy ex-Chosen boy. He was sweet and kind. He worked hard at his new job with the moving company and came home without a single complaint. He was tough as a boar yet gentle as a lamb. And he was a horrible liar. She could read his feelings like a good book. But one thing about him she couldn’t figure out was his stubborn refusal to speak too deeply about the people they had left behind.

  As they pulled into the driveway of her mother’s house, Luna decided to press the issue. If she didn’t, no one would.

  “We have to go back.” Luna opened her car door, got out, and folded her arms around her chest.

  “Where?” he asked as if he didn’t know.

  “You know where.” She stared. They’d had this conversation a million times, and each time, she gave in. This time she would stand her ground.

  “Come on.” He tugged at her shirt. “It is hot out here. Let us go inside.”

  She didn’t budge. Instead, she stared at him unmoving.

  “We will talk about it . . . inside,” he said firmly and then smiled. “I promise.”

  “Did you—” Luna grinned and threw her hand to her mouth in mock horror. “Just make a promise?”

  “Come. Or do I have to carry you into the house, too?”

  Luna softened. She just couldn’t stay mad at him. It was no use. But the conversation was far from over.

  “IT IS MERELY A DREAM, Luna,” Jonathan answered as Luna grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator.

  “But what if it means something? What if she’s not okay? Jacob promised to come back for her.” She handed him a bottle and sat down next to him at the table.

  “Jacob is gone. And he should not have made that sort of promise. If we go back there, it will defeat the purpose of us leaving. You know they will not let us simply walk back in and take Abigail. Besides, it has been months. Maybe she does not want to leave anymore.”

  “But—”

  Jonathan gave her the death stare. “I will not go back. I cannot.”

  “Okay, fine. If you don’t care about Abigail, I’ll go back and get her myself.” Luna stomped off.

  Maybe she hadn’t matured all that much, but the fact remained that those nightmares would not go away. They hounded her nightly. Abigail calling out to her, begging for her help. She couldn’t ignore it anymore.

  “Come on, Luna,” Jonathan called after her as she walked out the front door and slammed it behind her. “Luna! Luna, wait!”

  Jonathan followed her outside.

  Luna sauntered over and pointed into Jonathan’s chest. “We have to go back. And if you don’t go with me, I. Will. Go. Alone.” She poked him in the chest with each word. And she was serious. She would go back, with or without him.

  Jonathan raised his hands in defeat. “Okay. Okay. We will go back.”

  “Soon. We have to go soon.”

  Before Jonathan could answer, the hairs on the back of Luna’s neck raised. She turned around quickly. “Someone is watching us,” she said and rushed back into the house.

  Jonathan was right behind her.

  Luna pulled him inside and locked and bolted the door behind them.

  “I swear I saw Naaman yesterday on my way to the store. And what about the other day. You said you saw someone in the backyard. You said it was them.”

  “I was wrong. It could not be them. No, Luna. You are mistaken. Our — The Chosen do not spy on people, and they do not stalk them. Most certainly not my father. He is not that kind of―”

  “Oh yeah? Well there’s always a first time, isn’t there. For instance, The Chosen do not let outsiders in, yet your father did. I lived there for four months. Oh, and how about having sex before marriage? They would never do that, yet Rachel is about to burst. And what about throwing people out into the desert to die? Is that what The Chosen do?”

  Jonathan shook his head. “I do not know anymore. Something has gone very wrong. I just do not think—”

  “I’m sorry, Jonathan, but we don’t have time to think anymore. I saw Naaman yesterday. I didn’t want to admit it because it didn’t make sense. And you saw something too. You just won’t admit it because ―” Luna went to the window and lifted the blinds. The rest of her sentence got sucked up by the lump in her throat. A man stood across the street and stared back at her. “It’s him,” she whispered.

  “Who?” Jonathan looked out. “Wha— It is my father. What is he doing here?”

  Naaman stood as still as a statue and stared back at them.

  “I’m going out there,” Luna said as she crossed the room for the front door.

  “Are you crazy?” Jonathan followed her.

  “He’s just standing there! He must want us to see him! Maybe he wants to talk to us.”

  “Or maybe he doesn’t realize you are watching from behind the window.” He stood in front of the door, his hand on the knob and lowered an eyebrow.

  “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” Luna pushed Jonathan out of the way and opened the door.

  Chapter 18 ― Daniel

  Daniel sat in his room working on his studies, but his mind was on other things. He glanced around his room at all the worldly possessions he owned. The big-screen television that hung from the wall, and his laptop that sat next to him on his desk. The gaming system. The DVD player.

  How could he enjoy all these comforts when the people of his community went without? And why? Why did they go without? His father had more than enough money stored up to provide electricity to the community for years to come. There were stacks of it just sitting there in that basement hideaway. What was his father doing with all that cash?

  Who was his father anyway? What made him so important that he could live like a king while the rest of his people lived like paupers. And he . . . Daniel dropped his pencil to his paper. How could he let this go on? Is this what had been happening for over a century? Did his grandfather and his grandfather’s grandfather treat their people that way? Would he be expected to do the same?

  Frustrated, he closed his study on biblical foundations and snuck out into the hallway.

  “Where are you headed off to?” his mother asked, startling him from behind.

  “Oh. Blessed day, Mother. I was headed to the kitchen for a small snack break. I am almost finished with my lessons, but I am famished.”

  “Just a short one, then. You must finish your studies and get ready for bed.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “There are fresh cookies cooling on the counter.” She smiled.

  “Thank you, Mother. I thought I
smelled something delicious.”

  “Not too many, though. You do not want a stomach ache.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Daniel answered and hurried off before she could say more.

  At the thought of cookies, Daniel took a quick detour into the kitchen. Sure enough, there was a plate full of delicious treats waiting for him. Daniel grabbed several, folded them in a napkin, and took them off to his hiding place.

  As he leaned against the wall, opening his secret door, a thought occurred to him, did the people get such treats as cookies? He slipped inside and closed the door. Guiltily he took a bite of the sweet treat. At the mouthwatering taste of chocolate chips, Daniel decided it was just too good to give up.

  His father’s voice alerted him before he even made it to the vent. “What do you mean? If you found them, where are they?” Daniel’s father’s voice boomed through the vent. “Why are they not standing before me?”

  Daniel sat down on the floor and looked through the blades of the opening. The same man his father had hired to do away with the ones who left, stood before him. The man whose moral values seemed to be better than his own father’s, a man who supposedly had a direct connection to God.

  “They are all three in a small town about sixty miles south-east of Phoenix. The two, Jonathan and Luna, are living in Luna’s mother’s home. The third, Rachel, she is living with a woman named Shelly Newton.”

  “And why are they still there and not here?”

  “Because I cannot just grab them off the streets and throw them into the back of my van. Believe it or not, there are laws out there.”

  “So how do you propose to get them?”

  “I have a plan. I will have all three of them here by the end of the month. Rachel will be the hardest because she has not left the house in weeks. It will take some time, but I will have them here.”

  “The end of the month is the best you can do?”

  “If you would like me to go and rip them off the streets, I can do that, but that will bring down a whole lot of acid rain on you and your people.”

  “How so?”

  The man raised a hand in frustration. “If three people, in such a close connection with your community all of a sudden end up missing, where do you think is the first place they will look?” He paused. “And this time they won’t hesitate to get a warrant to tear this place apart.”

  “Fine,” The High Prophet slammed his hand on the desk. “Do it your way.” And then he leaned forward and stared in the man’s eyes to provoke fear. “You have until the end of the month. No longer.”

  The man turned swiftly and left Daniel’s father sitting at his desk. The High Prophet placed his head in his hands and mumbled something Daniel could not hear.

  What had happened to his father? Had he always been this malicious? Daniel wanted no part of the way his father treated the people of his community.

  Daniel stood and left. Malachi would be loading the truck for the next morning’s trip into town. As he started for the hidden door, a thought occurred to him and he turned around.

  DANIEL DUCKED BEHIND the same box and watched as Malachi and another man loaded the wares into the truck. Malachi hadn’t spotted him yet, and he hadn’t seen him alone to signal to him that he was there.

  He shook his head and stuck a hand up into his straw hat to scratch the itch that would not go away.

  How do they wear these things?

  It was extremely uncomfortable wearing the clothes Malachi had given him as a disguise. When he’d dug them out from under his bed, he’d been excited to put them on. He’d felt like a spy. James Bond.

  He’d watched an entire twenty-four-hour 007 movie marathon one time and spent a good part of the time daydreaming about it for days after. But now, being a spy did not sound so appealing. He’d never worn pants before. They were restricting around his legs and that hat. He scratched again, making a lock of his long hair fall out from where he’d stacked it on top of his head.

  “Quite an issue you got there?” a voice spoke from above.

  Startled, Daniel looked up as he frantically tried to tuck his hair back into the itchy hat.

  “Is he gone?” Daniel scratched. “This thing is killing me.”

  “If he was here you would easily be discovered with that hat bobbing up and down behind the box.”

  Daniel blushed. James Bond, he was not.

  “How do you wear these itchy things?” He pulled the hat from his head and let his hair fall. Sweat made it stick to his head.

  “Well . . . we do not have a full head of girly hair to wrap around inside. Why have you come?”

  Daniel flushed again. He’d often wished to cut his hair, but it was a sacrament. A vow to God. Like Samson, his mother had said. Only his hair did not give him strength.

  “The man my father hired to find the three, has found them. He has plans to bring them here by the end of the month. You must act fast.”

  Malachi raised an eyebrow.

  “You do have a plan, do you not?”

  Malachi stared at him for much too long.

  “You do not.” Daniel frowned.

  “My only thought is to sneak away while out at the market, but I do not know how I would find them or . . .”

  “Sneaking away could be dangerous. Maybe you could hire someone to investigate for you. You know, as my father has.”

  “And how do you suppose I do something such as that?”

  “Not on your good looks, that is for sure.”

  Malachi furrowed his brow. “Excuse me?”

  “It was just a joke.” Daniel chuckled, but when he realized Malachi was not laughing, he reached into his pocket and withdrew his treasure. “With this?”

  He handed Malachi the stack of bills he’d stolen from his father’s secret room.

  “Where did you get that?” Malachi stared at the money as if it was a rattlesnake poised to strike.

  “Take it.” Daniel pushed it to Malachi. “You can hire someone to find them. And get word to them that they are in danger.”

  “But how do you suggest I hire someone? Shall I walk up to a stranger, hand them a wad of bills, and ask them to help me?”

  “I cannot help with that part. You must figure that out on your own.”

  Malachi sighed and took the money. “Thank you. I will figure something out.”

  Daniel did his best to tuck his hair back into the itchy straw hat as he climbed over the box he was hiding behind.

  “Are you sure you do not want a dress and bonnet?” Malachi chuckled.

  “Oh, yeah. You are very funny.” He slapped on the hat and headed toward the door.

  “Thank you,” Malachi called after him.

  Daniel turned, nodded, and walked out the door. He would need to get back before he was missed.

  Chapter 19 ― Rachel

  “Wanna watch cartoons with me?” Shelly’s son, Lenny asked from the bedroom door.

  “I would love to, but I am not allowed to get out of bed,” Rachel answered.

  “Why not?” He waltzed in and bounced down beside her.

  “The doctor says so.” She really didn’t care about watching television anyway. “Your mom gave me a book to read, though.”

  “Books are boring.” Lenny bounced off her bed, making her body shift, and walked out of the room. “I’m going to watch tv.”

  “How are you feeling?” a voice said from the doorway. It was Dr. Paine.

  Rachel smiled. “I am sorry I have missed our sessions.” She raised her hands to her tummy. “This little person is not wanting to cooperate.”

  Dr. Paine came into the room and pulled up the kitchen chair that Shelly had placed by her bed. “It’s okay. And I had some extra time to fill, so I decided to come to you.”

  “Thanks.” Rachel could use the company. She’d been feeling down on herself ever since she’d been to the doctor. She stared at the woman, wanting to ask the question but not wanting to hear the answer. Before she could change her mind, she spoke. �
�Dr. Paine?”

  “Yes?” The woman looked up from where she was pulling a pad and paper from her bag. As if noticing Rachel’s distress, she sat fully upright. “Are you okay? Should I call Shelly in?”

  “No. I am okay. I just wanted to ask you a question about―” Her courage faltered. “I guess it does not matter.”

  “Sure, it does. I didn’t come all the way out here to watch you sleep, now did I?”

  She was tired, but sleep seemed to be the only thing she did lately. “Does God punish us for our sins?” she asked hastily.

  “Well, now I wouldn’t say that.” The woman stared at her for a moment. “Do you think God is punishing you?”

  Rachel nodded.

  “The Bible says we reap what we sow, do you understand what that means?”

  Rachel nodded, but she wasn’t so sure. “No. I guess, not really.”

  “Well,” she placed the pad and pen on her lap. “Sowing refers to planting. Whatever kind of seed you plant, will be what kind of crop you receive.”

  Rachel stared at her, uncomprehending.

  “I thought, as cotton farmers, you would understand the analogy.” Dr. Paine shifted. “So, if you planted an acre of cotton, how much will you receive come harvest?”

  “An acre’s worth?”

  “Right. And if you plant a foot of it, how much will you receive?”

  “Very little.”

  “So, do you see now?”

  Rachel shook her head. What did cotton have to do with the wrath of God?

  “Okay, let’s approach this differently.” Dr. Paine looked thoughtful for a moment and then spoke again. “When you do things that are not pleasing to God, he does not punish you for them, but He allows you to face the consequences of your actions. You are going to have a child at a very young age, and it will not be easy. God does not wish this for you, and He can certainly still bless you in it, but you will likely struggle. That is called reaping what you sow. You chose to be intimate at such a young age, and now you are pregnant.”

  Rachel nodded as understanding registered. “So, He is not punishing me with this – precondition?”

 

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