All of the earlier excitement drained out of me and I felt a weight press down on my chest. It was difficult to get out of my seat, but Rick was back, waiting, when I managed it. I glanced back at the two FBI agents. They still watched me. Jeremy’s grin was so inviting, but I could only return half a smile. Kira, a few feet away, glowered. I shook my head in disbelief. She needed to get a life. Couldn’t she see it was Alex that interested me?
The reflecting pool, by the Lincoln Memorial, started our Sunday off right. I couldn’t remember a time that I had missed church two weeks in a row. I had missed the first, last Sunday flying to D.C., and then there was today. Come to think of it, I would be missing next Sunday flying back. Mrs. J. did say we would be touring churches, maybe that would take away the odd feeling I had.
Even though church bored me sometimes, I loved the way it made me feel. It wasn’t a concrete feeling, in the sense of knowing something from a book, but a feeling that someone was there, from the great beyond, cheering for me. I stole away from the group and found a relatively open spot between two of the trees lining the walkway that flanked the memorial, to sit and think.
Some of our group climbed into the water of the reflecting pool, splashing and playing around. When a guard came and shooed them away, I smiled. I sat on the ground and looked at the calm water.
My mind drifted, and I thought rationally about things that only a week ago wouldn’t have crossed my mind.
Why did things like what happened in the ballroom, happen? Why would God allow it? In the far reaches of my mind, I could hear my youth leaders saying, “We all have our agency, and God will never force good upon anyone. Just think if all your choices were taken from you. What kind of an existence would that be?”
Do we have to experience the bad to understand the good? Sometimes it seemed it would all be easier if we didn’t have choices—or at least to let someone make the hard ones for me. But, I guess that was someone else’s plan, and I certainly didn’t want anyone telling me what to do every second of my life, even if that meant making mistakes on the way.
But, how could the robed men have been so cold-hearted, and how could Senator Randolph live with himself? What could be so important to these men that they could be so violent, so evil? Was this reality outside my box at home? We all came from the same heaven, so why don’t we all just want to be good? I guess it all comes down to who you choose to follow. Happiness follows God and misery follows the devil. While thought provoking, it scared me to think about good and evil in this way.
I felt someone pass behind me, so close that I thought I felt his jeans brush my back, chilling me. I turned to see the legs of a young man walking away from me at a leisurely pace back to the long walkway. My heart drummed unevenly and I froze, every part of my body ice, looking after the young man. What a strange reaction.
I watched him saunter past a bunch of people, take a quick look back and then disappear behind some trees on the other side of the walkway. Was that Iceman? I tried to look away, but couldn’t. The muscles in my neck began to ache from being stuck in one position and I wanted to scream out in pain. My neck finally spasmed, sending a chain reaction through my whole body that melted my frozen parts. I could move again.
I jumped to my feet, grabbed the bag Marybeth had loaned me and looked for my group. Some had found their way back into the reflecting pool while others stood bunched in various groups talking. I searched for Rick, needing some comfort, wanting to feel safe. Instead, I found Alex. My heart did flip-flops.
He stood away from everyone else, about ten trees down. Immediately drawn to him, I’d walked more than half way there before I noticed Alex had turned and looked at me. What would I say once I reached him? I looked at my feet. He wasn’t Rick. Could he be comforting? I must have looked awfully silly, stopped in mid-stride. I looked back at Alex, who grinned at me. My heart beat wildly, and I had to take a deep breath just to get the courage to go further.
“What are you doing?” he called out, laughing and coming toward me. “You should have seen yourself. It was like someone just lassoed you, stopping you in your tracks.”
I pulled my back leg forward so that I didn’t look quite so odd. “I just remembered something and ….” I trailed off, not knowing how to finish.
“Must’ve been pretty important. What was it?” He smiled at me, quick and sweet, as he reached me.
“I guess it wasn’t that important,” I hedged, awestruck by him.
“What were you doing over there all by yourself?” he asked, nodding toward the place I’d been sitting.
Had he been watching me? “I could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I?” Where did that come from? I felt my face flush.
He nodded. “You’ve got me there…I just wanted some time to myself.” He looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to give my excuse.
“Me too,” I said. “Things can get a little stifling around here sometimes.” My face burned, and I felt the tingle in my arm again where he’d touched me that morning. I unconsciously scanned the area to see if I could figure out who from the FBI was watching. Perhaps that would make me feel safe.
“Looking for something?” he asked.
“Uh,” I said, trying to figure out a way not to lie. “No, sorry, I’m…”
“Hey,” he said in a low voice. “Do you still have bad dreams about what you saw?”
My shock must have been apparent on my face, because his eyes went a little bigger and he said, “I mean, I do. I can’t seem to get it off my mind, and I only saw it after the fact. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you, to have seen the whole thing happen.”
Could someone hear what he was saying? With my breathing shallow and rapid, my mouth felt like sandpaper. I looked all around, trying to pick out possible bad guys.
“Christy, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” With gentle, but firm hands, he grabbed my wrists and moved in closer. A mix of emotions pulsed through me, a thrill of excitement from his touch and a horrible anguish that someone listened to us. His gaze probed, with an amazing intensity that I felt all through my body. I felt a radiating warmth spreading from his hands up my arms. I wanted to reach around him and pull him in tight, telling him everything, but a different kind of fear prevented it. I didn’t know if I could trust him with my heart. Closing my eyes, despite desperately wanting to keep them locked on Alex’s, I took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds, searching my brain for a solution.
“It’s okay,” I said, opening my eyes again. The force of his eyes tingled a spot right at the base of my neck. “I thought we’d decided not to discuss it ever again, is all. It’s so creepy, that I hate thinking about it.”
There, I’d said it and it was the truth. My heart began to really pound as I felt the warmth of his touch continue to spread.
“I’m sorry you’ve been having nightmares, though. I have too,” I confided. I really did feel bad about it. It was my fault he had nightmares after all.
“I won’t bring it up again,” he said, his face apprehensive. “Sorry. One thing, though. Do you think the FBI believed the letter?”
My hands shook and his hold on my arms tightened.
“I’m sure of it,” I said weakly, hardly hearing my own voice. If the terrorists were listening, we were sunk. They now knew for sure I’d seen everything and that we’d told the FBI.
“You’re probably right. I’m surprised the FBI hasn’t contacted us about it, though.” He stared at me, like he wanted more.
All I could do was stare back and nod.
“I really want those murderers to pay for what they did.”
“Me too.”
He looked in the direction of the rest of our group and said, “Looks like we’re about to leave.” He let go of me, his hands falling to his sides. I wondered if he knew how his touch affected me. Did he feel anything when he touched me?
I turned to follow the group when Alex called out to me.
“Hey, what’s this?” H
e moved in front of me, holding a small piece of paper.
“I don’t know. Where’d you find it?” I asked, reaching for it.
He turned it toward me, grinning. “It fell out of your bag.”
It was a photo of the eight of us, eating breakfast. I gasped, my breath suspended. Iceman. He hadn’t only brushed up against me, he had put that picture there.
“Who took this picture?” His eyes searched my face. I had no idea what to tell him. I just stared, unable to move. Could I tell him I thought Iceman had done it? My fears multiplied, and I didn’t know if I could deal with them alone.
“Christy?”
I needed to slow my racing pulse, and it seemed I had no way out of the situation telling the truth. Could I lie? It would be protecting him. It would be for the “greater good” and surely it wouldn’t be called a lie when I had such justification.
“Someone took it the other day,” I stammered. “I wanted a picture of all of us together.” Both statements were true, but misleading. A feeling of guilt swept over me and my shoulders dropped slightly. I had such conflicting emotions, I wanted to go hide somewhere. I had never outright lied, but now I couldn’t say that anymore. I hadn’t even been in a situation where I needed to lie before. The guilt wrapped around me, threatening to suffocate me.
“Hmm, it’s a pretty good shot. Could I get a copy?” he asked.
“Sure,” I squeaked, still feeling horrible.
Man, it was Sunday, and I had lied, on Sunday. I bet that was worse than lying on any other day.
We headed in the direction of our group, who walked toward the bus. I stayed as far away from the reflecting pool as I could, because I couldn’t bear looking at myself at the moment. Frustration hit me. Why couldn’t I tell him my suspicions? I didn’t have to tell him about meeting with the FBI. I could leave that out. Alex walked beside me, without a sound. I looked at the picture and then turned it over. On the back was written,
We know who you are—all of you.
I panicked and my insides were so twisted up from the lie I had told and the fear I felt from Iceman’s warning, that I reached out and grabbed Alex’s arm.
“Look,” I said. “I didn’t really ask someone to take the picture. Sorry. I lied.” Then I leaned in close to him and whispered, “I’m so afraid that someone is listening and—”
“Hold on. You lied? You didn’t ask someone to take the picture?” He smiled like a Cheshire cat.
“Yes. I’m really sorry.”
He chuckled, like I was ridiculous to be sorry.
“Listen,” I said, trying to clue him in on the seriousness of the situation.
“I’m listening.” He covered his mouth with his hand, staring at me, trying to keep a straight face.
“Iceman passed by me a few minutes ago, and I didn’t realize it was him or that he’d put this picture there until you saw it. I mean I felt something touch me when a guy passed by, but I thought it was just his jeans rubbing against me. I think it is a warning of some sort. Here, look at this.” I showed him the back of the picture.
His eyebrows drew together as he read. “I shouldn’t have laughed. I didn’t know. How did they know where we were?”
“Iceman knows where we’re staying,” I said. “I saw him outside the hotel the morning after the murder.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me about Iceman being at our hotel sooner?”
“I never had the chance,” I whispered.
“I don’t get it. Why don’t they just kill us if they know? Why would they send a warning like this? It’s weird.”
“I know. I wondered the same thing. They must have a reason to keep us around.” I hoped beyond hope, our discussion hadn’t given them what they needed to decide.
“Hey you two,” Mrs. J. yelled. “Hurry up! We’re waiting!”
Just before getting to the bus, Alex grabbed my arm and whispered, “Let’s keep this between you and me for now, okay?”
“Okay,” I said, before climbing on the bus.
I pocketed the picture, my heart thudding furiously and not because of the threat.
We had a secret now, just between the two of us.
Chapter Eleven
The Washington National Cathedral made us all feel like little ants once inside. The tour lasted about half an hour, and we learned all about its history. Patterned after the fourteenth century gothic style cathedrals in Europe, with its intricately carved wood and stone, and its detailed and vivid paintings, it tantalized the imagination. How they could build a place like this today, let alone in the fourteenth century, boggled the mind.
We went up to the observation gallery and looked out at downtown D.C. The beautiful view lifted me. It was so different from what I was used to, especially with the little shops inside it. The lovely view took my breath away, but I couldn’t find the peace I wanted so badly.
My thoughts kept turning to finding Jeremy. I had to tell him that the terrorists were not only watching us, but were warning me. Why not the others, too? They must know I’d talked to the FBI. But, if they knew, wouldn’t I be dead? They must at least suspect. Otherwise, why would they be singling me out? Could there be a mole in the FBI, and no information was safe? Then again, maybe they knew because Alex and I told them all they needed to know at the memorial.
The Northeast section of town, where the National Shrine stood, was considered crime-ridden and dangerous, so I hurried inside and stayed close to the tour guide the whole time, hoping to avoid the possibility of witnessing any more crimes. I know, I know, I used to be all about excitement and change, but I wanted it to be the right kind of adventure, not like the ballroom.
The National Shrine, one of the world’s largest churches, hosted a staggering one million visitors a year. Its stained glass windows sparkled beautifully in the light and the enormous building swallowed everything in its path.
I sat in a pew and waited while everyone roamed around the building. It felt nice when Marybeth sat next to me.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” I answered.
“Ever since you know what, I don’t like being alone.”
“Me neither.”
We sat in silence for a while, with Marybeth fidgeting and looking at me until I couldn’t stand the suspense any longer and said, “What is it Marybeth?”
“I’m not supposed to tell.”
“Not supposed to tell?” My mind went straight for Kira. Had she said bad things about me and told Marybeth to keep her mouth shut? “You can tell me, it won’t hurt my feelings.”
“Well…” She stared at me intently.
I was getting madder at Kira as each second passed, and I didn’t even know if she had anything to do with the secret.
“Look, if it has to do with Kira, just know that—”
Marybeth interrupted me. “It doesn’t have to do with Kira.”
I stared at her. All I could do was wait. I desperately wanted to know the secret, but didn’t want her to break a confidence.
“I’ve got to tell someone,” she finally whispered. “I’m sure they wouldn’t care if I talked to you.”
My heart froze. They? I should’ve told her not to tell me, but I wondered if the terrorists had tricked Marybeth into talking. Then again, she wouldn’t be here if they had. Right?
She leaned in close and whispered right into my ear, “The FBI took me to their office yesterday.” Then she turned and stared at me, eyes wide.
I’m sure my eyes matched hers. Questions ran through my brain at top speed. She seemed fine, excited even, to have talked to them. How did she hold it together? I thought she would be a total wreck after talking to them; all the scary memories surfacing again. But here she was, telling me about it, like it was some juicy gossip. Maybe talking to whoever she had really did diffuse it all or had I misjudged her? Should I confide in her now? That was the real question.
I looked around, assessing the likelihood of a bug that let the terrorists hear us being in the Cathedr
al. I decided the probability was pretty low even though the FBI seemed to know our every move. She had broken the promise, not me. Surely, I could tell her. It would be wrong not to. It would be like lying to act surprised at her admission, right?
She bumped me with her arm. “Did you hear me? The FBI read the letter and wanted some more information from me, so they picked me up yesterday. It was so cool. The FBI has been watching us, protecting us, since they got the letter. I feel safer now.”
“They took me in, too.” I whispered, feeling lighter. I thought I would feel worse because I had broken my promise, but I guess the load of the secret was a heavier burden to bear than telling it.
“No way. When? How?” Her questions gushed out.
“Shhh! Remember, we aren’t supposed to talk about it.”
“Oh, yeah. Well, I just had to tell you, so you would know, and feel safe and all.” She looked ashamed.
“It’s okay. I was dying to tell someone, too. I was just too afraid to tell.”
“I’m glad I told you.” Her smile lit up her face.
“We can talk here, but remember, we shouldn’t bring it up again. They could be listening.” I smiled back.
“Right. But, they know who the bad guys are and they are going to get them. They have a lot of evidence against them.”
“Good.” I wondered if the terrorists were listening. If so, they had their two eye witnesses wrapped up and delivered. I swallowed hard, hoping they weren’t.
I didn’t know what to say after that, and we sat in silence, relieved to know that someone else knew. I decided it wouldn’t be a good idea to tell her about Iceman and the picture. I wondered if any of the others had been taken to the FBI office too or if they only took Marybeth and me because we witnessed the actual beheading. Then I remembered Alex’s question from earlier and wondered if he was trying to find out if they’d contacted me—because they had contacted him.
Watched (The Watched Trilogy) Page 11