by E A Chance
The Librarian gave her a peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you tonight, babe,” he said before shooing the others out with her.
Yeager waited for the door to close behind them, then said, “Where are the suspects?”
“In a holding cell at the police station, but I couldn’t get anything out of them.”
Yeager gestured at the guards. “Not even those two?”
“Those are my bodyguards. Some people I do business with are less than trustworthy, but I’m a pacifist.”
Not surprising, Yeager thought as he turned on his heels and started for the door. “Take me to the suspects.”
“What about my bodyguards?”
Yeager ignored the question and kept walking. The corners of his lips curled up a fraction when he heard the Librarian scurrying to catch up with him. He’d removed the punk pacifist from power in sixty seconds.
After the Librarian gave Yeager’s driver directions to the police station, Yeager said, “You never gave me your name.”
He got a smug look, and said, “People address me as the Librarian.”
Without shifting his gaze from the windshield, Yeager said, “That’s a ridiculous title. Commands no respect. I refuse to call you that. What is your name?”
“Dr. Craig Himes.”
“You’re a doctor? That’s a title that commands respect. Why wouldn’t you use it after all the work to earn it?”
Yeager could tell Craig was doing his best not to pout. “I grew up in this town and my father is a doctor, too. I wanted to distinguish myself from him.”
“You must be intelligent. Librarian is the best you could come up with?” Craig nodded, then turned toward the window. “Are you a medical doctor?”
“No. My doctorate is in literature, hence the Librarian. My father’s a physicist.”
Yeager detected a hint of daddy issues. If this man were his target, he’d find a way to exploit that. He hesitated a moment before saying, “I’d like to address you as Dr. Himes. Is that acceptable to you?”
Craig looked him in the eyes. “If you won’t call me Librarian, just call me Craig. That puts us on friendlier terms.”
“If you prefer, Craig it is.” The driver stopped in front of the police station and got out to open Yeager’s door. As he climbed out, he said, “You see, Craig, that’s respect.”
He took the steps two at a time with Craig trudging behind. His disappointment at just missing Daybreak hadn’t diminished, but toying with Craig had at least distracted him from it for a moment.
The lone police officer on duty led them to the holding cell. The suspects were sitting on opposite benches facing each other. They got to their feet when the officer unlocked the door for Yeager and Craig.
“Knock this off, Craig,” the older one said. “You’ve held us long enough. Let us out.”
Craig leaned against the bars and crossed his arms in a pathetic attempt to regain control of the situation. “That’s Dr. Himes to you, and not until you give this man the information he wants. This is Colonel Yeager. He works for directly President Kearns.”
Yeager read the concern in the man’s eyes. He may not have respected Craig, but he understood genuine power.
Yeager sat on the end of one bench and crossed his legs. “What’s your name, son?”
He only hesitated a fraction of a second before saying, “Jace. He’s my nephew, Kip.”
“Thank you, Jace. Please, you can both sit.” They lowered themselves back onto the benches without taking their eyes off him. “I’m tracking four dangerous people that you helped escape last night. I’m not angry with you. You seem like nice guys, and I’m sure they fooled you into believing they’re innocent. All I need is for you to tell me where they went.”
Kip opened his mouth, but Jace put up his hand to stop him. “We seriously have no idea where they were going. All we can tell you is where we told them to wait for us to bring them supplies. Craig’s idiots captured us before we got that far. We don’t know what happened to those people after eight last night. That’s the truth.”
He didn’t show any signs of lying. Yeager turned his eyes on Kip. He just nodded enthusiastically.
“They can’t have gotten far, Colonel,” Craig said. “The redhead is pregnant and one of the men is seriously ill. Plus, they don’t have any supplies, just the horse.”
“Will you show me where they were supposed to meet you?” Yeager asked Jace.
When Jace hesitated, Kip said, “I will. I’ve never gotten in trouble in my life. I want to go home.”
Jace was clearly disappointed with his nephew but stayed quiet. He rested his elbows on his knees and lowered his head.
“I’ll make sure you’re released if you cooperate,” Yeager said. “Tell me where you where you’re supposed to meet.”
“I need a city map that shows the park.”
Yeager signaled for the police officer to get him what he needed. While they waited, he said, “Can you describe the area?”
Kip described a wooded area beyond a park on the edge of town. Yeager’s disappointment lessened, and his hope was rekindled. It had gone much easier than expected. His quarry had a horse, but some in his party were on foot. One was pregnant, another ill, and they had no supplies. He’d have them in custody by the end of the day.
The officer returned with the map, and Kip drew an X on the meeting spot. It looked easy enough to find.
Yeager stood and left the cell with Craig following. When the police officer locked the cell, Kip jumped to his feet. “You said I could go if I helped you.”
Yeager turned and gave him a kind smile. “That’s up to Dr. Himes, but I’ll put in a kind word. Thank you for your cooperation.”
Jace joined Kip at the bars as they walked to the door “You suck, Craig,” he shouted. “And stay away from my sister.”
“Adrian, we need to stop,” Riley called out as she grabbed ahold of Coop’s shirt before he toppled out of the saddle. “Coop’s had it.”
Adrian and Dashay rushed over to help lower Coop to the ground. Riley slid off behind him with a groan, then grabbed his blanket to spread it under a tree. They’d traveled for three days since their escape, sleeping on bare ground in the woods, and avoiding towns, just like she and Coop had done after leaving the ranch, but without a tent or provisions. They’d been fresh and healthy then, but their current condition was far from that. Instead of recovering, Coop was growing weaker by the day, and she was getting more pregnant. It was critical they find a place with resources to stop and recuperate.
Riley got Coop settled, then shuffled to the stream running nearby. She lowered herself onto a boulder and ran her tongue over her cracked lips. They’d passed countless bodies of water in the past three days but had to boil whatever they collected. They’d run out of matches and had no success starting a fire the old-fashioned way. It had been twelve hours since their last drink, and temperatures had soared in the afternoon. As Riley watched the crystal stream trickle by, she was tempted to break her rule and risk a sip. She would have traded anything for those earlier days of endless rain.
“How much farther to that town, Adrian?” she asked, in a hoarse voice.
He wiped his sunburned forehead with a neckerchief. “I’d guess only two or three hours.”
She raised her eyes to him, wishing she’d heard wrong, not knowing if she could make it another ten minutes, let alone two hours. “Maybe we should stop here tonight.”
“I vote for that,” Coop said. “I’m exhausted and still not comfortable going into this town you’re taking us to, Adrian, no matter how small and out of the way it is.”
Dashay dropped onto the boulder next to Riley. “We won’t survive much longer without water, and our food rations are almost gone. We have to go, even if it means risking capture. Our other option is a permanent nap. I’m not liking that choice.”
Adrian walked to the edge of the stream. “Are you sure we can’t drink this water? If our choice is this or death, what do we h
ave to lose?”
Riley hefted herself off the rock and moved next to him. The glimmering water was so enticing that her resolve wavered, but she stood her ground. “Coop and Dashay nearly died from contaminated water. This stream may look clear and fresh, but we have no way of knowing what could be living in it. The only water sources we can trust are wells, springs, or water we’ve boiled. Dashay’s right. We have to move on today, but we’ll take a rest in the shade first.”
“No argument from me,” Adrian said. “I don’t have the strength to get Coop into that saddle.”
They gathered around Coop under the enormous oak tree to take advantage of its glorious shade. Riley estimated that the temperature was close to the nineties. She rested her head against the trunk and watched Biscuit hungrily chomp the grass and take long draughts from the stream. All her problems would have been solved if she had the immune system of a horse, but even Biscuit was showing serious signs of wear.
Riley’s eyelids began to droop, so she let them close, wishing she could nap, but the baby decided it was playtime. She placed her hands on her belly, hoping to quiet him, but he kicked and tumbled even more. She gently ran her hands over the bump but stopped when she felt a tap against her palm. It was the first time she’d felt a kick from the outside. She reached for Coop’s hand and placed it on the spot.
He rolled the back of his head on the trunk until he was facing her. “What are you doing?”
“Just wait,” she whispered.
Two seconds later, the baby gave a firm kick. Coop’s eyes flew open, and he sat up, leaving his hand on Riley. “Was that our baby?” Riley nodded with tears in her eyes. “Make him do it again.”
Riley chuckled and put her hand over his. “I can’t make him, but you’ll be able to feel his movements more and more often as he grows.”
“I’m going to laugh and laugh when he comes out as she,” Dashay said.
Coop beamed at her. “He or she or three, I don’t care. As long as it’s healthy.”
“It’s unlike anything you can imagine when they’re born,” Adrian said. He opened his mouth to go on, then paused and spun around. He pointed across the meadow. “Did you hear that?”
Dashay climbed to her feet and squinted toward where he’d pointed. “Hear what?”
Before Adrian could answer, Biscuit lifted his head and cocked his ears. The silly horse whinnied and trotted in the direction Adrian was looking. A moment later, a man came over a small rise, riding on a horse-drawn farm wagon. The others frantically glanced at each other, but there was no point in bothering to hide. The man had seen them.
He guided the horse to within ten feet of them, with Biscuit merrily trotting along beside them.
“Daft horse,” Riley mumbled as the man climbed off the cart and walked toward them.
It only took seconds to guess his community association. He wore a straw hat and had a long beard, but no mustache. His simple, homespun trousers were held up by suspenders strapped over his white button-down shirt. He looked to be about forty-five-years-old and appeared strong and fit. His face was impassive, but his blue eyes projected confidence and directness.
“I didn’t know there were Amish communities in Kentucky,” Riley whispered to Coop.
“Afternoon, folks,” the man said in a heavy German or Scandinavian accent when he reached them. “Do you realize you are on my private property?”
All but Coop got to their feet. Riley held out her hand for him to shake, but he ignored it. His gaze flicked over her, then moved to the others.
“I’m sorry we trespassed,” she said. “We didn’t see a sign or fence.”
He removed his hat and wiped his forehead with a white handkerchief. “Those haven’t been necessary this far out. No one ever comes this way. What are you doing here, especially in your condition?”
“We’re just passing through and got off course,” Adrian said. “Can you tell how far we are from Marion?”
“By the looks of you, farther than you’re going today.” He turned to Biscuit, who had come up behind him and was sniffing his hair. “He looks like a friendly fellow.”
“That’s Biscuit. He’s the best horse living,” Adrian said, and grinned at his friend.
The man reached into his pocket and took out a dried apple slice, which he fed to Biscuit. You have a new friend for life, Riley thought.
“My name is Aaron Riehl. You look in need of help. What can I do for you?”
Dashay stepped between Riley and Mr. Riehl. “I’m Dashay Robinson. We’re out of water and food. What you see is all we have. That man under the tree is recovering from an infection that almost killed him just over a week ago, and as you can see, my friend is almost five months pregnant. Anything you can offer would be welcome.”
Mr. Riehl gave a curt nod, then combed his fingers through his beard. “I’m aware of what has happened to the world outside my community. Since we lead separate, plain lives, we have gone on as before, mostly. Many outsiders have come begging for help. Occasionally, we’ve obliged those requests, as is our Christian duty. It has not always ended up well for us, but I judge you to be sincere in your need, and I see you are unarmed.”
As Dashay and Adrian went to get Coop on his feet, Riley stepped closer to Mr. Riehl. “My name is Dr. Riley Poole,” she said, using her full title, which was something she rarely did when meeting strangers, but something told her it was safe to honest with this man. “I don’t want to appear ungrateful, but can you tell me where you’re taking us? We’ve also had offers of help not go well for us.”
“I am not offended, Dr. Poole. My grandmother left this world some months ago but had lived with us for the last ten years since my grandfather died. Her cottage is on a secluded piece of my property and has been empty for years, though I maintain it and keep it clean. No one from my community will know your presence there.”
“That’s very kind of you,” she said. “We accept your kind offer of help, and we will do what we can to be of help to you.”
His look told her he didn’t believe she had much to offer, but she wasn’t insulted. She’d gotten that same look from many other men in the past.
Once Coop was settled in the cart, Riley and Dashay climbed in beside him. Adrian mounted Biscuit and followed the cart. They rode for fifteen minutes through cultivated farmland and lovely, gentle hills interspersed with streams and groves of trees. They passed the occasional shed or other farm structure, but they never saw a single person. The uncultivated land was as Riley imagined it had looked when the first humans set foot on it.
As the wagon turned onto the long dirt road leading to the cottage, Riley leaned closer to Mr. Riehl so he could hear her. “Won’t aiding us cause problems for you? We don’t want to get you into trouble.”
Keeping his eyes focused on the road, he said, “That’s a misconception of many English.”
“English?” Dashay said.
“What they call the non-Amish,” Coop whispered.
Mr. Riehl nodded. “Your friend is correct, Miss Robinson. We’re a closed community. We do not marry outside of our congregation, but we don’t isolate ourselves, either. Many have friends outside our communities. Some of our people had non-Amish business partners or conducted business with the English before what they call the CME happened.”
“Thank you for explaining,” Riley said. “So, housing us on your property is acceptable?” Mr. Riehl turned and gave her an odd grin, but kept silent. “He made a point earlier to say no one would know we’re here,” she whispered to Coop and Dashay. “Since we’re trying to stay under the radar without starving to death, this is a godsend. I say we keep to ourselves and stay within sight of this cottage until we’re ready to get back on the road.”
Coop leaned his head against the back of the wooden wagon. “I won’t be going for hikes anytime soon,” he croaked.
Riley let her mind wander as the wagon rumbled along, trying to make sense of their bizarre experience in Madisonville and where they were
headed. Despite Craig and their forced escape, she was grateful for the hospital staff who helped save Coop. At thinking of the hospital, she suddenly sat forward and said, “Knee replacement.”
Dashay opened an eye and stared at her. “What are you babbling about, girl?”
“Mrs. Himes’ knee replacement. It was scheduled for today. I feel terrible for that poor woman. She was in serious pain and is just another one of Craig’s victims.”
“She’s his mother. Craig will take care of her,” Dashay said. “With refugees streaming into Madisonville, there’s bound to be another doctor who can perform the surgery.”
“That’s what I’m going to tell myself,” Riley said.
The road curved slightly toward the south, and the cottage came into view. It was a simple one-story structure that would meet their needs just fine. Anything would beat sleeping on bare ground out in the open.
Mr. Riehl pulled the wagon into the circle loop in front of the cottage and stopped at the three steps leading to the door. He jumped down and came around to drop the wagon tailgate.
“Dr. Poole, open the door, please. Miss Robinson and the man riding Biscuit can help me get your sick friend inside the cottage.”
Adrian dismounted and joined them at the back of the wagon. “My name is Dr. Adrian Landry. Please, call me Adrian,” he said, then pointed to Coop. “That’s Dr. Cooper. He’s Dr. Poole’s husband. He goes by Coop. They’re medical doctors. I’m a scientist.”
“I see,” Mr. Riehl said, and cracked the faintest smile. “Now we are acquainted, let’s get Coop out of this heat.”
Riley took a quick look around the yard before dragging herself up the stairs and was surprised but also relieved to see a bank of solar panels sitting next to an old diesel generator. She opened the door wide, then moved aside to give them space to bring Coop into the austere, two-room cottage. While they carried him to the bedroom, she waited in the main room, feeling like she’d been transported back to the nineteenth century. Even so, it was better than most of the places she’d stay in for the past five months.
Mr. Riehl came out and gestured for her to sit on a sagging sofa with faded, light blue upholstery. Dashay took the rocking chair, and Adrian dropped into a chair at the table. Mr. Riehl remained standing.