“Reese called every children’s home in Lincoln today, but she couldn’t find a Vince Smith.”
“Not that surprising.”
“No, but disappointing anyway. It would feel good to have something to go on.”
“Do you feel like the boys are in danger?” Richard asked.
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“Not . . . exactly. Something isn’t right. But the urgency of the other night has lifted. Chris has been chewing nails to get after the hive. I suspect they went hunting.”
“A little strange that they haven’t contacted us.”
“They’ve been independent for years. Maybe it’s not that strange.”
“Tyler isn’t independent. Not anymore.”
“And Chris doesn’t like it. Tyler may just be keeping the peace.”
“I wish he would join,” Mary said quietly. “I worry about him. He’s joined this battle and he isn’t armed for it. They could take him down so easily.”
“But they haven’t. Maybe he’s not so easy to take down as you think.” Richard’s eyes twinkled. “Maybe the sides aren’t quite that black and white.”
“They could be a big puddle of grey for all I care. All I know is that if they encounter the demonic, Tyler is green and Chris can’t fight.”
“But then again, Chris is better in a fistfight any day. And at least some of what they may encounter should be vulnerable to fists. Don’t borrow trouble, Mary.”
The sun disappeared, but its last rays still lit the sky and the water. Richard held out an arm. “May I escort you home?”
When they turned together, they could see the lights of their home high up the hill. So obvious, so clear. And yet the village had never really seen them, or known them for what they were: guardians, peacemakers, servants of God.
Lights flickered high overhead, and Richard saw them and smiled.
Most people would have said they were stars coming out, or passing airplanes.
He knew them to be angels.
And the watchword of the Oneness came to mind:
Never alone.
* * *
When Richard and Mary walked in the front door, half an hour after leaving the bay and meandering up the road in the twilight, Reese greeted them with the words, “I found him.”
“Who?” Mary asked, caught off guard.
“Dr. Vincent Smith. Who is either using his real name or consistently giving out the same fake.”
“I thought you’d already called around?” Mary asked.
“I did,” Reese answered, handing them both a cup of tea. She’d had a pot ready, clearly intending to ambush them before they could just go to bed. “In Lincoln. But it occurred to me to call some of the outlying communities too. He’s from Brass, an oily little town fifteen miles north of the city. The Lincoln cell used to do double-time keeping watch out there, but it’s been quiet lately.”
“So what have you learned?” Richard asked, accepting his cup of tea and moving into the common room. He and Mary arrayed themselves on the big leather couch; Reese positioned herself across from them. The rest of the house was quiet.
“Well, he does run a children’s home,” Reese said. “Just a small one—ten kids. And he and his wife have two of their own, which the woman I talked to thought was a selling point. Seems the home was an outgrowth of fostering.”
“Nothing scary so far,” Richard said.
“Not on the surface, no,” Reese admitted. “The woman gushed about his credentials and his wonderful way with the kids.”
“That doesn’t sound much like what April encountered.”
“Yes,” Reese said, her eyes glimmering, “but you know appearances.” She leaned back and sipped her tea. “I thought I would pay them a visit tomorrow. Better not to take April, since she’s already encountered him—and the demons he’s carrying. If nothing else, I should be able to get a feel for what’s happening there.”
“What do you suspect you might find?” Richard asked carefully. Mary’s eyes were downcast, as though she didn’t really want to fully engage in the conversation. Hives were horrible enough. Involving children made it that much worse.
“It could be an expression of the hive,” Reese said. She took in Mary’s expression and cast her own eyes low, staring into the steaming cup. “I hope not. I hope we just find one man under demonic influence and we can do something to free him or mess up their operation. But it fits the profile. A home, where everyone is contained, under the leadership of a charismatic individual. Kids can be really vulnerable, especially if they come from broken backgrounds.”
“You sound like you’ve had experience with hives,” Mary said.
“Not really. We only fought the core. The human side was always just beyond our finding it. But once we realized there was one stemming out from Lincoln, I learned all I could about them.”
Her voice quieted. “I’ve been looking for this thing for three years. Since I was nineteen. It nearly cost me everything. I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t tell you I’m scared of what I might find tomorrow.”
Mary rested a hand on Reese’s knee and said nothing.
Reese let out one more sigh. “And the children . . .”
“You’ll do right,” Mary said firmly. “You’ll know what to do, and you’ll do it. You’re Oneness, Reese. One of our best.”
Reese blinked away tears and squeezed Mary’s hand.
Richard stood slowly. “I am going to pray,” he announced. “Do you want anyone with you tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Reese said firmly. She set her cup down. “That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about.” She squared her shoulders. “I want to take Diane.”
Chapter 6
Tyler didn’t know how long he’d been asleep, or how long the man down the hall had been groaning before the groans awakened him. But he snuck out of his room and down the hall and into the dark bedroom, wary of meeting any of the community. No one seemed to be around. Either they were ignoring the man’s wordless sounds, or they had already checked on him, or they didn’t care.
He rebuked himself for the last thought. These people might be strange, but from everything he had seen of them, he knew they cared.
This late at night, newly awakened from sleep, Tyler found all his emotions about the community were at the surface, sublimating his conscious thoughts. Jacob and his people attracted him, fascinated him, and repelled him all at once. He felt at once inspired by their example and condemned by it. He didn’t know what to do with the mix.
It was too dark to see when he stepped into the room at first, but a moment later a cloud slipped off the moon, and moonlight streamed in through the window. Tyler could make out the shape of the man in the bed and his leg suspended in the air.
Apparently the man saw him too, because he startled so badly Tyler thought the traction apparatus was going to come down.
“Who’s there?” he choked out, frantic.
“It’s okay, it’s just a friend,” Tyler said, moving himself into the moonlight. “My name’s Tyler. I heard you . . . just wanted to make sure you’re all right.”
Maybe it was partly due to the shadows, but to Tyler it seemed fear was etched across the man’s face. He calmed down slightly as Tyler came closer, but the fear remained, lurking, palpable.
“Where are we?” he asked.
“With a community in the country . . . somewhere.” It bothered Tyler a little that he still didn’t know the answer to that question exactly.
He wondered what else the man didn’t know, so he kept talking to find out.
“You were in an accident. You were driving a truck and you nearly hit us head-on . . . you were in our lane. Do you remember any of that? But we’re okay. We avoided you and hit the median, but we’re fine. Just a little bruised up.”
The man shook his head. “I don’t know what happened. I picked up a hitchhiker. We were talking—just small talk. That’s the last thing I remember.”
“These
people—here in this community—found us all and took us in. They’ve been taking care of us. They’ve got you bandaged up good.”
“I seen some of them,” the man acknowledged. “I thought I was in a hospital. My head’s been so fogged up. Just woke now and . . . why aren’t we in a hospital?”
Tyler shrugged. “These folks don’t so much like the outside world, and they figure they’re good enough at caretaking. Seems like they’re right.”
He didn’t bother mentioning the supposed police report. Chris had thought that was a fabrication, and he was probably right. Oneness cells did not typically like to involve police, he thought, remembering April’s disappearance and the fact that Richard and Mary had never called in the authorities.
Of course, an inward voice corrected him, in that case they hadn’t called in the police because they figured the event was demonic, and they didn’t want to get non-Oneness humans wrapped up in it. The car wreck was not demonic.
Was it?
His interest in the events of that night suddenly rekindled, Tyler asked, “Do you remember anything about that hitchhiker?”
“Sure,” the man said. “He was freaky. Had the craziest eyes I’ve ever seen. College kid, I think.”
Tyler sat up straighter. “Do you remember what he said?”
“Naw,” the truck driver answered. “Nothing much. Just the usual chitchat . . . where you from, where you going, that kind of thing. I tell you one thing, we sure as anything weren’t driving on the wrong side of the highway. But that’s all I remember.” He shook his head and stretched his neck in frustration. “It’s like I had a seizure or something. Maybe I did.”
“Hey, I’m not trying to stress you out,” Tyler said. “I can let you go back down to sleep. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You were groaning.”
“I hurt,” the man said. “Feel a little better now. Thanks.”
Tyler stuck out his hand. “You have a name?”
“Rick Brodie.”
“Good to meet you, Rick. Tyler.” He’d already given his name once, but this was more formal. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t give a last name. Oneness generally didn’t. He hadn’t made a conscious decision to take up that practice, but somehow it just felt right to use his first name only.
“Sorry I woke you,” Rick said. “Listen, can you find me some more pain meds or something?”
“I’ll try,” Tyler told him.
He headed down the dark hallway wondering where on earth he would find anyone to give Rick more medication. This wing of the house didn’t seem to be home to anyone other than the guests.
In the dark, he almost bumped into a small, quiet form. She gasped loudly, and his heart raced.
“Hey, Miranda, sorry.”
“That’s okay,” she whispered, breathlessly.
“I was just up checking on Rick—the driver. He wants something for pain. Can you . . .”
“I’ll tell Lorrie,” she said. For some reason she sounded scared. “Has he been awake long?”
“I don’t think so, not too long,” Tyler answered. “Why . . .”
“I was supposed to be up here listening for any needs,” Miranda said, “but I got hungry and . . . don’t tell, will you?”
“What, that you were gone for a few minutes?”
“Yes. Just don’t tell.”
“Okay,” Tyler answered, confused. There was a pause during which Miranda might have given him a smile or a look of gratitude—it was too dark to see, but he felt like she was grateful—and then she turned and vanished back down the hall. He felt his way to Chris’s room.
“Chris, wake up,” he stage-whispered when he got inside.
Chris didn’t move.
“Hey, Chris,” Tyler said a bit louder, ambling to the side of the bed and poking his friend.
Nothing.
Alarmed, Tyler bent down to make sure Chris was still breathing. He was—regularly, deeply. Since when did Chris sleep so well?
Normally he slept with a proverbial eye open, ready at any moment to stand down the attack of the world.
Bothered but tired and achy, Tyler went back to his own room. He sat in the dark and thought, I should pray.
He didn’t really know how.
It would have been nice to have spent more time mentoring with Richard before getting thrown out on his own like this.
Thrown out? his contrary inner voice contested. You walked into this one yourself.
He cleared his throat. What exactly were you supposed to do when you prayed? As a kid he’d always been taught to close his eyes and bow his head. But things were different as Oneness—really, really different. He didn’t think most other people had prayer right at all.
He cleared his throat again. He wasn’t sure why he was doing that, either. Was he planning to speak out loud?
Prayer is participation, Richard had told him once. You enter into the river as it passes by. The Spirit is always praying. Just jump in.
But I can’t hear what you’re saying, Tyler protested. I don’t even know how to listen.
Being quiet might be a good start, said his inner voice. At least trying to hear something else.
Fair enough. He cleared his throat again—annoying himself—and shifted position on the bed and tried his best to be quiet.
He wasn’t sure how long he continued with that before he fell asleep.
* * *
Reese left early in the morning. Richard donated his car for the purpose, opting to walk to work. April and Mary and Richard all got up to see her off. And Nick.
Nick looked particularly concerned as he watched her pack a lunch and pull on a light jacket. He stopped her on the way out the door, lurching forward and grabbing her sleeve.
“Be careful,” he told her. Fear was dancing in his eyes.
“No worries,” she told him, meeting his gaze as sincerely as she could. “I will.”
The drive to Diane’s house was short. Reese rapped on the door and tapped her foot nervously in the damp air. Fog on the water obscured the bay, opening to a grey sky far overhead; it looked to be a wet, drizzly day. Not that one could ever really tell in the morning what the rest of the day would look like.
A fine day for demon hunting, she thought. The war always seemed so incongruous on beautiful days.
She lifted her fist a second time and rapped again on the door. She had called Diane last night and asked her to go to Brass. More argued than asked, actually. And she knew the whole time she talked how horribly unfair she was being. Diane would have refused anybody else outright. But it was Reese asking. Diane was worried about Chris, and Chris and Reese clearly cared for each other, and well, how could a mother’s heart say no? Reese felt a tiny twinge of conscience for using Chris like that, but it was important to her that Diane learn to be Oneness.
It had, after all, been Diane’s face that pulled Reese out of the grief that was swallowing her and turning to anger and vengeance. It had been Diane’s face, at the last, that turned the tables and prompted Reese to spare David’s life. She still marvelled that they’d won that battle. Hopelessly outnumbered, and with half of them injured, they should have died there. Ultimately she knew it was her forgiveness, her letting David go, that had beaten the demonic core. Fighting demons was not just a matter of swordplay; it was a matter of love, of rightness, of making choices that they would never make—of creating wholeness and building bridges when their whole bent was to corrupt and rot and destroy. Other battles, with equally bad odds, had been fought and won by similar decisions. But it was impossible to manufacture a moment like that. And in the moment, she had not known what was right.
Not until she saw Diane’s face.
She knocked again, louder this time. It finally opened. Diane stood there, wearing dress pants and an oversized beige sweater. All ready to go.
“Sorry,” she said, but she did not offer an explanation for what had kept her.
She had probably been sitting in the kitchen on the other side of t
he door, telling herself not to go.
“I packed us a lunch,” Reese said, making conversation as they crunched the gravel on the way to Richard’s car. It was a nice car, a whole lot more luxurious than driving Chris’s truck.
But Reese paused just before she reached for the door handle and wished she was riding in Chris’s truck anyway.
On the drive to Lincoln, Reese noticed deep tracks crossing a grassy median like someone had fallen asleep at the wheel and crossed to the wrong side of the highway, and before that, black marks slashing a concrete divider like there had been a collision.
“Nasty accident there,” she commented, uneasy at the thought. From the tracks, it couldn’t have happened more than a day or two ago. Right about the time the boys went missing.
But Richard didn’t think they were in danger. She held on to that. Besides, if Tyler was dead or badly hurt, one of them should feel it.
She hoped.
He hadn’t been with them long enough. Had the ties formed deeply enough to really tell them anything?
Shaking her head to dislodge the thoughts, she kept driving.
Diane was a sullen passenger, staring out the window and hardly saying anything. Reese thought about turning on the radio to cover the awkwardness—Richard’s car probably had good sound—but didn’t. They drove in silence.
In Brass, the house wasn’t hard to find.
They stepped out of the car, and Reese felt the familiar stench in the air and the presence of petty forces scrabbling over dominance in a kingdom almost too small to care about. She had described the town as “oily” when she told Mary and Richard about it, but perhaps “burnt” would have been a better word. A plant on the edge of town poured smoke into the air all year-round, smogging up the air. A thriving little drug trade empowered most of the demonic activity in the town. The Lincoln cell had made plenty of raids here, looking for weaknesses, finding people who were ready to be helped out of the nets they’d become entangled in. But it seemed there was always someone to take the place of those who were rescued.
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