The Forsaken (The Chosen Series Book 2)

by Patricia Bell

  “I don’t want to hear it,” the High Prophet said. “You have had ample time to bring them back to me.”

  “Yeah?” The man sat up in his chair. “Well, I don’t exactly like the idea of man-handling children.”

  “I told you. All you have to do is bring them to me, and I will do the rest.”

  “Well, you see, that’s where things get sticky. They aren’t four-year-olds that I can coax into my car with the promise of puppies and candy. There will have to be a certain amount of man-handling in order to get them in my vehicle.” He folded his hands together. “And after watching his father get mowed over right in front of him, it’s not exactly making things easier for me.”

  “Who told you to run the man over right in front of him? I told you—”

  “You told me to take care of him, and I did. Besides, he was about to rat you out to them. I didn’t have much choice.”

  “The police showed up here to report the incident. I had to go down and verify the body. It was a real tragedy.”

  “Have you told the people?”

  “They think he is out of town. In Tucson at our sister community.”

  “You have a sister community?” The man shifted.

  “No!” The High Prophet roared. “Of course not!”

  Daniel sat back, heat rising to his face. His father was a cold-blooded murderer. And there was a girl somewhere in the house who was dying at that very moment.

  Daniel went back to his room, threw on his shoes, and snuck out the front door. The door that led to where she was being held was somewhere at the back of the house. He had left from that door to go see Malachi. He was sure it was not accessible now, but maybe he could find a way to communicate with the girl. He had promised her he would come back.

  As he ambled around the corner in the darkness to the back portion of his home, the eerie sounds of night creatures scurrying away kept him on high alert. He should have brought the flashlight he used in his bed to read long after he was supposed to be asleep.

  Turning the corner to the back of his house, he found the short set of stairs that led to the door. Listening for sounds of life, he pulled opened the secret panel and turned the handle. It was locked. He should have known.

  He walked around and looked for some type of opening. Before he got too far, he spotted a vent. Leaning down, he peeked inside.

  It was even darker in the room than it was outside and Daniel couldn’t tell if anyone was in there.

  “Hey,” he called.

  No movement.

  “Hey. Are you in there?”

  “Who’s there?” a faint whisper called from inside.

  “It’s me. Daniel. I told you I would come back.”

  Rummaging sounded as the girl came closer to the vent. Once he got a glimpse of her face by the pale moonlight, he could see that it was just as his own, bruised and swollen.

  “I’m sorry.” It was all he could think of to say.

  “Looks like you didn’t fare well either?” she answered.

  Could she see his jagged Frankenstein stitches? He touched his face. “No, I guess not. Are you hungry?”

  “No, I am okay,” she answered.

  “How can you be okay? Has he been feeding you?” That was not possible. As the cook stitched his face, his father had made it clear that the girl would die down there and they would bury her quietly where no one would know. “The authorities have no idea who is born into this community,” his father had assured him. “We don’t keep records of birth.”

  “No. He did not. Another—” she stopped.

  “Someone else came? Malachi?”

  She stared at him in silence.

  “It is okay. I will not tell. He brought you food?”

  She nodded.

  “Oh, good. I was so worried about you, but I could not come. I was too busy getting my Frankenstein face fixed.”

  “Your what?”

  “Never mind.” He pulled on the vent. It didn’t budge. Rubbing his fingers along the ends, he felt that there was nothing but two screws to hold it in place. “I will be right back.”

  “Wait. Where are you going?” she cried out.

  “I will be right back this time. Don’t worry.” He ran off to get a screwdriver, a bottle of water and something for her to eat.

  He opened the door to the garage and walked straight to his father’s toolbox. Opening the top drawer, he pulled out a Phillips screwdriver then strolled over to the extra refrigerator his father had installed out there the year before.

  He chose two bottles of water, a package of Twinkies and a can of soda. Bundling it all inside a grocery store bag, he headed back to Abigail.

  She was not standing at the vent where he left her. Most likely she heard his footsteps and ran and hid.

  “It’s just me,” he called and immediately her face was visible.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  He pulled the screwdriver out of the bag. “I am going to open this thing up.”

  “What good will that do?”

  “It won’t get you out of there, but it will be much easier to get things in.” He unscrewed the first one and moved on to the other.

  “But what if he comes back? Won’t he notice?”

  Daniel didn’t have the heart to tell her that his father was not coming back. That he had left her there to die a long agonizing death. “Don’t worry. I will put it back in and just leave the screws out. That way if Malachi comes, he can just pull it out.” He was proud of himself for his creativity. His father would be proud. If he wasn’t a lying, murdering . . . “Just make sure he puts it back.”

  He pulled the second screw out and carefully tugged on both sides of the vents. “Voila!” he said as the vent came easily out. He reached into his bag and pulled out a cold bottle of water. “Here put this on your face. It will make it feel better.”

  She took the bottle from him and pressing it to her face, she winced. “Thank you. But why are you helping me?”

  “Ever had a twinkie?” he asked.

  “You are a strange boy.”

  “Here.” He reached into the bag and pulled out the snack pack and pushed it through the hole.

  “What is that?” she asked, taking it from his hand.

  “Open it. Taste it.”

  She looked at him hesitantly and then opened the wrapper. As she took a bite, her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

  “Are you okay?”

  “This is the best thing I have ever tasted!”

  Daniel smiled widely. “I have something even better but maybe you shouldn’t . . . I mean it might bother your stomach.”

  “If I am going to die, I might as well go happy.” She took another bite of Twinkie.

  Daniel didn’t like to hear her talk like that, but he couldn’t assure her that she would live. He handed her the soda.

  Abigail took it in her hand and stared at it. “What is it?”

  “Open it.”

  She turned it around several times.

  “Stop.” He held out his hand. “Give it here before you make it explode.”

  She covered her mouth. “Are you trying to kill me here and now?”

  Daniel laughed. He popped the tab on the soda and handed it back to her. “Drink it.”

  Abigail took a small sip. “Mmmm.” She took a large swig, and then she belched loudly.

  “Oh!” she covered her mouth. “Excuse me.”

  “It is good, is it not?”

  “It is.”

  “I must go now, Abigail. I will come back tomorrow.” He grabbed the vent and slipped it back into the hole.

  “What if he comes back? What will he say if he sees these wrappers and . . . this!” She held up the can of soda.

  “Finish them now. I will take them back with me and dispose of them.”

  Abigail finished the Twinkie, washed it down with the soda and let out another huge belch, only this time, she did not cover her mouth. She handed the evidence back
up to him. Daniel removed the vent again and took the goods.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said as he left.

  He rushed to the front of the house and into the garage door, replaced the screwdriver and started for the door to the house. Before he could reach the handle, it opened, and the High Prophet stood, staring at Daniel, who was still holding an empty soda can and Twinkie wrapper.

  “Where have you been?”

  Chapter 29 ― Rachel

  As Rachel stared down at her sweet sleeping baby boy, a tear fell down her cheek. Baby Jacob had arrived only two weeks early and was as healthy as could be. After plenty of tests, the doctor had told her he was fully developed in every way.

  “He was just screaming to get out,” the doctor had said.

  And here he was, sleeping peacefully in her arms. If only Jacob were there to see his sweet baby boy. Her heart yearned to be with him. With each look down into her son’s eyes, she saw him. The boy who never got to become a man. The one who died trying to save her.

  She laid back with the baby in her arms. She was tired. She just wanted to cuddle with him and sleep. Only for a second.

  WITH A SUDDEN JERK, Rachel opened her eyes. A man leaned over her bed and stared at her. His dark, disheveled hair hung down almost obstructing his equally dark probing eyes. She’d only seen him for a moment before he was gone. And so was her baby.

  Panicked, Rachel screamed.

  Chapter 30 ― Malachi

  The time had come. It was May fifteenth, and Malachi was all nerves as he stood behind the market stall and watched the crowd of English stroll by. Questions and doubts plagued him. Why hadn’t he been clearer? He hadn’t told them a time or a meeting place. They couldn’t just walk up to the booth. That would be way too dangerous. Did they even understand the message?

  He thought back to Abigail. He’d visited her every night and brought her food. He was so thankful to Daniel for opening the vent. It made things much easier for him to give her things. Jonah had covered for him every day and knew exactly what was going on. Malachi was taking a huge chance by telling him, but he needed the man’s help.

  Out of the corner of his eyes, Malachi noticed a couple looking at rugs only three booths away from his. From behind it could easily be Jonathan and Rebecca but he wasn’t sure. He’d never seen either of them in English clothing. Would they even look the same? The couple turned and walked in the opposite direction without a glance his way.

  It was almost noon already, and his nerves were on end.

  “You need to go to the restroom, Brother Malachi?” Jonah said, coming back from the facilities himself.

  “No, thank—” Understanding hit him as Jonah’s eyes pressed. “You know, I did drink a bit too much water. Maybe I should go now before the afternoon rush.” He looked at Elder Joseph.

  The man nodded. “Good idea. Hurry back.”

  Jonah came closer and whispered, “behind,” then went back to folding blankets neatly.

  Malachi nodded his thanks and rushed off to the back of the restroom building. His heart suffered palpitations at the thought of finally meeting with them and of all the things that could go wrong.

  As soon as he approached the back of the building, he spotted them immediately. How he thought he would not be able to recognize them now seemed foolish.

  “Jonathan,” he called as the two embraced. “Rebecca,” he nodded to Luna.

  “Luna,” she answered.

  “Right. My apology.” He turned back to Jonathan. “It is good to see you are well. How is Rachel?”

  “She just gave birth to a healthy baby boy,” Luna said.

  Malachi tried to be polite to Luna. He didn’t want her to be in danger, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything bad had started when she came to the community. Before that everything had been fine. Well mostly.

  “I have news for you.” Malachi focused on Jonathan. “Things are very bad. Abigail has been imprisoned inside a chamber in the home of the High Prophet. She is not well. I fear she will die if she does not get help.”

  Luna’s hand went to her mouth. “I knew it,” Luna cried. “My dreams were right.”

  “You dreamed of her?” Malachi turned to Luna.

  “Yes. She’s in a dark room chained to a pole. And her face . . . she’s been hit. It’s swollen and bruised. Her clothes are dirty and torn. She cries out to me every night.”

  Malachi could not believe his ears. Still, he went on. “We must get her out of there. And as pressing as that is, I have other news just as disheartening.”

  “Someone is after us,” Jonathan said.

  Malachi nodded. “How did you know? Has someone—”

  “My father died trying to warn us,” Jonathan said.

  “And the two of us were almost run off the road by a crazy guy in a dark car.”

  Dead? Malachi turned to Jonathan. “What do you mean? Naaman is not dead.”

  Jonathan gave a wary glance to Luna and then back to Malachi. His face turned white. “He is. We saw it with our own eyes. He had come to warn us and was killed by a big vehicle.”

  “An SUV,” Luna confirmed. “Right in front of my mother’s house.”

  “No, no. Naaman is away with the sister community in Tucson.”

  “What?” Jonathan stared at him, blankly. “What sister community?”

  Malachi felt like an idiot. Elder Aaron had lied to them when he stood in front of the entire congregation and told them about the new community of believers that had formed in Tucson. Brother Naaman had been sent to help them build. Now it seemed ridiculous. An entire community in Tucson? Where did they come from? Did they just sprout up out of the ground? And why send one single man to help them build? They had been deceived. How many other lies had they been fed?

  “Never mind. Just another one of their lies.”

  “What can we do?” Luna asked.

  “We need to get Abigail out of there. She has been sentenced to die. Daniel and I have brought her food and water but—”

  “Wait – Daniel? Who is Daniel?” Jonathan asked.

  Malachi understood their confusion. It was forbidden for anyone in the community to bear that name except for the High Prophet and his successor.

  “The son of the High Prophet. He is my informant. He came to me in the night and told me of all these things I have told you.”

  “But wait. What if he is setting you up?” Jonathan asked.

  “He is not.”

  “How do you know?” Luna pressed.

  “He has risked serious trouble several times to get word to me. The last time, a week ago, his face had been slashed. He told me his father hit him because he caught him in the room next to where Abigail is being kept. It is a hidden room in the walls.”

  “A hidden room in the walls?” Jonathan asked.

  “I do not understand it myself, but in that room is loads of money. Daniel says it is stacked on shelves. More than anyone can count.”

  “Is that where the money came from?” Luna asked. “The money that was delivered to us?”

  “I tried to pay him. He said he would not take my money. His name is Marcus, and he used to work for the High Prophet.”

  “How can we get Abigail out?” Luna asked.

  “I have thought long and hard. The only thing I know for sure is that there is a back gate to the community. It is not watched, but I am sure it is still charged and locked. It opened when the car approached.”

  “It’s automated. He probably has a remote inside the car,” Luna said. “We have to figure out how to cut the electricity to the fence. Did you see a generator anywhere?”

  “I do not know what that is.”

  “It would be a good size and probably very noisy. It runs on gasoline.”

  “I saw nothing like that. Could it run the entire house as well as the fence?”

  “The High Prophet’s house has electricity?” Jonathan gasped.

  “Yes.” Malachi nodded.

  “It wou
ld take a big generator to juice the entire house as well as that mile-long fence. I bet he had electricity installed.”

  “How would you know?” A thought came to him. That first day he’d gone to see Abigail, the garage had opened, and Malachi had ducked behind a strange gray box. “I think I know where it is.” He told them about the box he’d hid behind at the front of the house.

  “Malachi!” a voice called. It was Jonah. “You must hurry.” He ran up to them. He nodded at Jonathan and Luna and then spoke. “Elder Joseph is angry. He wanted to come looking for you himself.”

  “I must get back. Can you meet me here again tomorrow?”

  “Yes. We will be here.” Jonathan said.

  Luna nodded her agreement.

  “Thank you,” Malachi said. “Thank you both.”

  “Tell Abigail that Rachel had her baby boy and both are doing well,” Luna called after them.

  Malachi and Jonah rushed back to the stall. Maybe he’d been wrong about the girl. Maybe she hadn’t caused the problems so much as opened their eyes to it. For over a century, they had blindly done what the High Prophet told them to do. Without question. Now the man had stacks of money hidden away and all from their hard labor. They had blindly trusted, and they had been deceived.

  “Where were you?” Elder Joseph asked.

  “I am sorry. My stomach is not well.”

  Elder Joseph stared at him for a moment. “Something is going on. This is not the first time you have wandered off with complaints of a stomach bug.”

  “I am sorry, Elder Joseph. It will not happen again.” But it would. How would he get away the next day to speak to Jonathan and Luna? He would have to figure it out some way. Abigail’s life depended on it. And maybe Jonathan and Luna’s as well.

  “Get back to work. I will be speaking to Elder Aaron about this. If you cannot control your ‘stomach issues’ we will have no choice but to replace you.”

  “Yes, Elder Joseph.”