The Legend of Safehaven

by R. A. Comunale

  He listened to the details and turned pale, as he heard his sergeant’s final comments:

  “We think they’re coming after Ben. He was the one who put them away, and the worst one swore he would take him down. Better get over there and warn him. He doesn’t answer his phone. We’ll send backup as well.”

  The old man had dozed off in his chair and awoke to the sounds of harsh laughter. His eyes took several seconds to lose their sleep blur and focus on the three figures standing in front of him.

  “Hello, Pa. Didn’t think I was coming home for the holidays, did you?”

  He saw them clearly now: three men in ill-fitting clothes, probably stolen, including the one he recognized.

  “Yeah, it’s me, Pa, your little Tommy. Remember, you drunken sot?”

  The seated man just stared not saying a word. He knew if he did he would feel the blows on his face, just like that last time when the police took Tommy away.

  “Got some unfinished business, old man, and you’re part of it. Don’t know how you escaped the first fire, but it’s your turn again to be the roast turkey.”

  The other men guffawed, as they watched their cellmate take a five-gallon container of gasoline and start pouring it around the perimeter of the man’s room. Their friend wasn’t called “Tommy the Torch” for nothing.

  His father watched motionless and without expression.

  Maybe it’ll be better this way.

  He stayed still, as the last drop gasoline fell from the can’s spout. Then he heard his son’s parting words:

  “Say hello to the others when you get to hell, you…”

  His ears shut out the obscenities, as his eyes saw the cigarette lighter being clicked. He began to cry as the flames licked at his chair.

  “Tonio, why don’t you introduce us to your friend?”

  Nancy watched the young girl sitting uncomfortably on the sofa in the living room. She could see that he was ill at ease, too. This was the first time he had mentioned having a girlfriend, much less invited one to the house.

  “Tia Nancy, Tio Edison, Tio Galen, this is my friend, Betty Orth.”

  Galen looked at the young woman.

  “Your father is Jesse, right?”

  Betty nodded.

  “Yes, I help out over at St. Ignatius Home on the weekends. I remember seeing you there when you came to get Miriam.”

  Nancy looked at the girl again, harboring a private joke she couldn’t share with the others—at least not now.

  Oh, Betty, I know exactly how you feel. Someday, we’ll talk … just you and me.

  “Would you like to stay for dinner, Betty?” Edison asked. “You haven’t eaten until you’ve had one of Nancy’s gourmet meals.”

  Tonio exchanged glances with Betty.

  “That would be great, Tio. First, Betty and I would like to visit Tio Ben and Miri. We’ll walk down to their place and be back in time for dinner. Okay?”

  Lachlan had tried several times to reach Ben by phone. Nothing.

  Maybe he’s sleeping.

  Then he dialed another number.

  “Hello, Safehaven, who’s calling?”

  He watched the flames rising, the heated air curling the remaining hair on his arms. He didn’t try to escape—he didn’t want to. As the smoke spiraled up, it conjured a memory.

  Come on, Pa, we gotta go huntin’. Can’t just sit there, can ya?

  He rose from the chair to follow his boy and stumbled outside.

  Get your hunting rifle, Pa. We need to bag some varmints.

  Yes, son, we do need to nail some varmints.

  The alcohol haze began to lift, as he reached his old pickup truck and removed the rifle from its gun rack. He checked the load then got in and drove off.

  Firefly sparks, rising up from what was left of his home, lit up the darkness.

  “It’s right down this path, Betty. It’s a neat place, just right for Ben and Miri. Tio Edison and Tia Nancy even helped build it. I didn’t know they could do things like that, but Tio Galen told me they did a lot of work for Habitat for Humanity and actually worked side by side with a former president way back when they were younger. Look, there it is.”

  The little cottage sat in a sheltered clearing, a true-to-life, Hansel and Gretel, gingerbread-style house.

  “I hope the big bad wolf isn’t in there,” Betty joked.

  “Funny you should say that,” Tonio replied.

  Ben had finished cleaning up and felt like lying down himself. He hadn’t really done any heavy work today. Maybe it was the cool air and the wind rustling through the mountain forest that relaxed him. He sat down in the stuffed recliner that had been a gift from Nancy and tilted it back to take a quick nap.

  He looked over and saw Miri still asleep. Her dog—he couldn’t get used to the fact that it was part wolf—lay beside her.

  Then he heard the click-whoosh, as the front door opened, and he saw three grim men entering the room.

  “Well, look, guys, it wasn’t Goldilocks in here after all. Lee, Quint, meet my favorite copper, Sergeant Ben Castle, a genuine Pennsylvania State Trooper.

  “Sergeant, meet my pen buddies.”

  He recognized the one talking, and his mind shifted to an earlier time. The face was younger then but just as mean.

  Tommy—Tommy the Torch! How many people has this one killed, including his own family?

  “Whatsa matter, fuzz, cat got yer tongue?”

  That was Quint: barrel chest, broken nose, unfocused eyes, stupid with animal cunning. Ben had met that type before.

  “Lee, go out and check the perimeter. We wouldn’t want to be interrupted, would we, Ben?”

  The third man, short, wiry, gray eyes fixing on everything and nothing, nodded silently and walked out.

  The she-wolf had opened her eyes and was watching the strangers. She emitted a low, gutteral growl, and the girl awoke at the sound. She let out what sounded like half-groaning, half-grunting noises and rose to her feet.

  “This your kid, Ben? Looks real pretty, don’t she, Quint?”

  Both men laughed.

  Ben sat up in the chair and faced the trio’s leader.

  “She’s my daughter, Tommy. She’s not right in the head. Leave her be. This is between you and me.”

  “Sure, Ben, sure. We’re old friends, after all. You got me free food and housing for the last ten years. Who could have a better friend than that, right Quint?”

  Miri started to move around the room, holding out her arms and touching the clothes of the two strange men. She moved her head from side to side, her mouth emitting “unnh, unnh.”

  “She really is a retard, isn’t she Ben? What a kick in the teeth that must have been for you. Better get her away from Quint. He doesn’t like being touched.”

  Ben rose very slowly from the chair keeping his hands in front of him, palms up. He move to Miri and guided her over to her drawing papers.

  “She’s autistic, Tommy. You know what that means?”

  “Don’t you remember, Ben? I was the smart one in the family.”

  Ben watched the younger man holding the tight-lipped, cold smile on his face.

  “She likes to draw, Tommy. Just leave her alone.”

  The three turned toward the door at the sound of Lee’s monotone voice.

  “Get in there, you two.”

  A frightened Tonio and Betty appeared in the doorway, followed by Lee holding a handgun at their backs.

  “What did you find, Lee?”

  “Couple o’ kids. Too bad for them,” he laughed.

  Ben stared. It was Tonio … and the girl in the picture!

  Nancy immediately recognized Lachlan’s voice. She listened to the young trooper and began to tremble. Edison and Galen spotted her reaction and immediately sprang from their chairs. Edison reached the phone first and took it from his wife’s hand.

  “This is Bob Edison. What’s going on?”

  “Bob, this is Lachlan Douglass. Listen…”

  Now Gale
n saw his friend blanche, and he put his ear to the receiver just as Lachlan added, “They’re after Ben. I’m on my way, but you’ve got to warn him. He’s not answering his phone.”

  A shaken Edison put down the phone and stood there holding Nancy.

  “Do you have any firearms here?” Galen asked.

  Edison thought for a moment.

  “There’s an old hunting rifle I got the first year we were here. I thought I would try shooting at tin cans, but Nancy doesn’t like guns. And when the kids came, I locked it up in one of my workboxes downstairs. It hasn’t been touched in decades.”

  “Get it. I just hope the ammunition is still good.”

  He had a good idea where he could find Tommy. He knew his second son was smart enough to have tracked down the state trooper’s address even before the prison break. He just had to get there in time.

  “Quint, go outside and keep an eye on the grounds. We don’t want anyone else paying a visit.”

  Tommy’s crooked grin never changed, as he eyed the two youngsters. The girl was a looker. After he took care of the copper and the boy, he’d have fun with her, and maybe even the daughter. He’d spent an awfully long time in stir.

  Miri seemed oblivious to the commotion. She sat on the floor, cross-legged, her hands holding charcoal drawing markers and moving like windshield wipers, tossing out drawing after drawing. The she-wolf sat strangely quiet beside her.

  The heavyset con moved slowly in a large half-circle around the house. It was past sunset, and the air was still. The summer insects had died off in the early frosts, and all he could hear was his own heavy breathing.

  He turned toward the side of the house and suddenly saw several pairs of luminescent green eyes outlined by the cloudless moonlit sky.

  Must be animals. Too low to the ground for people.

  Then he heard the growl, and just as he looked back, the alpha male leaped forward. Quint’s dying screams were confined to a bloody gurgle in his torn-out windpipe.

  “It’s time, Ben.”

  He turned to Tonio.

  “You, kid, go stand by the copper.”

  Tonio moved toward Ben, and Betty took a step to follow him.

  “No, not you, little lady, just your boyfriend. You and Ben’s daughter are going to be my special guests. We’re going to celebrate the holiday.”

  Tonio stood at Ben’s side. He couldn’t think of anything to do. Ben’s mind was racing, playing and replaying all the possible attack and escape scenarios he could imagine. At the moment there seemed no way out. It was fairly obvious what was going to happen to him and Tonio. And then the girl and his daughter would be…

  They heard someone approaching the open doorway.

  “You find someone else, Quint?”

  No reply.

  “Come on in, Quint. Join the party.”

  “There’s no party, son, just me.”

  Tommy saw the tall shadow of a man walk in, rifle at the ready. He quickly grabbed Betty and held a knife to her throat, while Lee pointed his gun at the intruder.

  Tommy was genuinely stunned.

  “I killed you! I saw the house burn! Why didn’t you die?”

  The she-wolf smelled the heavy scent of fear emanating from Tommy and Lee. She began a low growl again.

  Miriam’s hands flew faster and faster over the paper, pages falling like snowflakes to the floor, as she finished one and started another.

  Tommy screamed, “I’ll kill her! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all, just like I did before.”

  He held the point of the knife on the right side of Betty’s neck and a drop of blood welled up underneath the tip.

  Just then a set of heavy footsteps approached the doorway.

  “Quint,” Tommy screamed, “Where the hell…?”

  It was a bear-sized man carrying another rifle.

  Twin blasts rocked the air in the small room.

  The first blew Lee backward, his forehead shattered by the round from Galen’s rifle. The second shot caught Tommy square in the chest, knocking him against the wall. His eyes glazed over as he slid down to the floor.

  Lem Caddler ran to his dead son. He knelt down and held him in his arms, sobbing.

  As Galen lowered the smoking weapon, one word entered his mind: Absalom.

  CHAPTER 7

  Suffer the Little Children

  PART TWO

  Lachlan Douglass entered the front door of the cottage, followed by a phalanx of state troopers, all with guns drawn. When they surveyed the carnage, they holstered their weapons. Lachlan walked up to Ben and hugged him.

  “Did you find the other one, Lach?”

  The younger man swallowed.

  “The wolves did.”

  Galen stood over Tonio, who was sitting on the floor, shaking uncontrollably, and holding Betty in his arms. He knelt down and put his hand on the young man’s shoulder and used a word he had only dreamed of.

  “Son, are you all right?”

  “Something’s wrong with Betty, Tio Galen. She’s still bleeding!”

  “I’m okay, Tony. It’s just a scratch.”

  The old doctor saw the paleness in her skin and the dilation of her pupils. He felt her neck then turned to Lachlan.

  “Call the Medevac. We need to get her to the hospital.”

  When the meat wagon arrived to pick up the three dead convicts, Ben gently pulled Lem away from his son’s body, so the attendants could bag it and carry it out to the waiting coroner’s vehicle. Lachlan had called in the medical-evacuation helicopter and stood by as it picked up Betty, accompanied by Galen and Tonio.

  After the copter took off, he returned to the blood-stained studio. Lem had collapsed into Ben’s chair. Ben was standing over Miri, who had lain down on her mat again, she-wolf by her side. The tall trooper walked over to his friend and former partner, bent over, and began picking up the pile of sketches, hoping to save Ben the trouble. As he did so, he examined them. The subject matter startled the young man, even though he had seen death many times in the Middle East: Multiple views of the three prisoners graphically displayed the moments of their deaths—even the moonlit destruction of Quint.

  There was one more. It depicted a young, Amerasian girl lying in a hospital bed.

  Lachlan stared at Miri

  “What are you, girl?”

  Empty eyes stared out into space.

  They had followed the stretcher carrying Betty into the ER, Galen consulting with the attending physician about her condition. He convinced Tonio to sit in the waiting area, where Nancy and Edison soon arrived to join him.

  The young man sat, head in hands, torn between the desire to run to the cubicle where Betty was being examined, and the understanding that he would probably be in the way. Edison and Nancy sat beside him in silence.

  All three looked up, as Jesse Orth walked out with Galen. The big man’s face was ashen.

  “Mr. Orth, can I see Betty?”

  Jesse shook his head.

  “Betty’s mother is with her now, and the doctors aren’t quite finished yet. Tony, tell me what happened.”

  Galen stood outside the cubicle with Frank Farber, the ER doctor on call.

  “You called it, Galen. She’s got ALL. Her white-cell count is over a hundred thousand, and the smear is loaded with blasts. Who do you want to call in for consult?”

  Both men knew what lay ahead for the young girl with acute lymphoblastic leukemia, the most common blood cancer striking children. It demanded a regimen of drugs, radiation, and even bone-marrow stem-cell transplantation. The toll on the patient’s well-being would be magnified by the emotional turmoil normally occurring in the teen years, as the young person attempted to stake out his or her identity and independence.

  Whatever happened, it was bound to be a rough ride.

  “I’ll call in Jay Greenberg. He and his team are the best pediatric and adolescent specialists I know.”

  Galen walked out to the waiting area and approached his friends.

&nb
sp; “Betty needs to be admitted for her bleeding,” he told them.

  He pulled up a chair and straddled it. He looked first at Jesse then at Tonio, Nancy, and Edison.

  “Betty has a problem with her blood. It’s making too many white cells of a type called lymphocytes. Because of this, her body—her bone marrow—isn’t able to make other blood cells like platelets, which help control bleeding when she gets cut.”

  He looked again at his ward.

  “You were very observant, Tonio. Most likely you saved Betty’s life. The problem she has often goes unnoticed until something very serious happens.”

  Jesse had been a nursing-home administrator too long not to realize what Galen was saying. His words were both question and statement.

  “Betty has leukemia?”

  He braced himself for Galen’s reply.

  “Yes.”

  Just then Lachlan walked in leading a very shaky Lem Caddler.

  “Lem wanted to know how the girl was doing. I think maybe he needs to be admitted, Doc.”

  Galen saw the combined effects of grief and incipient DTs—delirium tremens, the withdrawal effects of heavy alcohol use. He got up and found Farber, who was writing his final notes on Betty’s chart.

  “I think we have another admission here, Frank. Lem Caddler just lost his son, and the alcohol is wearing off.”

  “All right, we’ll get him admitted to CATS unit.”

  Galen returned to Lachlan and Lem.

  “Lem, what you did tonight took more courage than any battlefield you fought on. You saved multiple lives. Do you have the strength to find yourself again?”

  The man was shaking even more now. He looked past the trooper and the doctor. In the shadows near the entryway, he visualized his oldest son, Lemuel Jr., and his wife, Tara. Was it the DTs again, or did he actually hear his boy say, Go for it, Pa, and did he hear his wife say, I love you, Lem?

  Lem nodded, and the attendant escorted him to the beginning of his new life.

  “Tio Galen, can I see Betty now?”