by Diane Kelly
Seth chuckled and ruffled the dog’s ears. “It’s okay, buddy. I’ve got it under control.”
When he was finished, we signaled Brigit and Blast to follow us over to the grass. We didn’t have to ask Brigit twice. She flopped down on her back and wriggled, letting the grass scratch her back.
I went to the cruiser and returned with a coil of thick rope. Brigit and Blast romped and tussled on the lawn, flirting in doggie fashion, while Seth and I spread the long rope across the grass.
Seth and I met in the center of the rope and turned our backs to each other. We moved slowly away from each other, tying knots every foot or so to create footholds. Curious, Brigit and Blast trotted over.
Brigit picked up my end of the rope in her mouth, wagged her tail, and looked up at me with an expression that said, Let’s play tug-of-war!
Hey, I was game. I grabbed the rope and tried to pull it out of her mouth. “Gimme-gimme!”
Brigit wasn’t about to give me the rope. She clamped down harder and lowered her chest for better balance. I yanked the rope side to side, but all I managed to do was make Brigit’s head turn to and fro.
Seth whistled to Blast, who ran to his pack leader. The two of them picked up the other end of the rope, Seth with his hands, Blast with his teeth.
“Battle of the sexes!” Seth hollered.
I turned around. “You’re on! Prepare to be humiliated.”
While Seth and Blast pulled their end of the rope, Brigit and I pulled ours, leaning backward and using our legs as leverage. Brigit outweighed Blast, but Seth had at least forty pounds on me. Inch by inch, they pulled Brigit and me toward them.
The firefighters who’d been working the bay came out to cheer us on, choosing respective teams to root for. Some chose by department, fire versus police. Others chose by sex, males versus females.
Frankie was among them. Her allegiance was to her roommates. She stood on the sidelines, pumping a fist in the air and shouting, “Me-gan! Bri-git! Me-gan! Bri-git!”
Brigit dug her claws even deeper into the grass and dirt and bent lower. Following her lead, I bent my knees further, lowering my center of gravity. When the guys pulled us two more inches in their direction, Frankie ran over and joined our all-female team. She grabbed a hold of the rope in front of me and pulled back with all her might. In short order, we’d made up all the ground we’d lost and then some.
“How do you like us now?” I hollered.
Not to be outdone, one of the male firefighters ran over to join Seth and Blast’s team. Soon, everyone had picked one side or the other and was pulling as hard as they could.
EEERT-EERT-EERT!
On hearing the alarm, the firefighters immediately dropped the rope and ran into the station. The game ended in a draw as suddenly I fell backward onto my butt.
FORTY-EIGHT
TRAILBLAZERS
Brigit
Brigit bounced around in her enclosure in the back of the cruiser. She wasn’t sure why Megan had left the lights off on their car, or why she was driving across the bumpy field to get to the park when they could have just taken the road. But she could smell adrenaline on Megan. She knew that smell meant they might be in for some more fun. She could smell something else, too. Fried fish. Seth had fed her some once and she’d liked it. Then again, other than that icky cookie Megan had offered her a while back, there wasn’t much food she didn’t like.
The ride smoothed out when the cruiser rolled onto the asphalt. Megan parked the cruiser and let Brigit out of the back, giving her the order to remain silent. She motioned for Brigit to follow her down one of the park’s trails, the same one they’d gone down before.
Brigit scented the surroundings as they quietly made their way down the trail in the dark. Raccoon. Possum. Skunk. She smelled a snake, too, but the scent grew fainter as it slithered away.
Soon they were walking next to the tall wall. Brigit heard clucking noises, smelled the chickens and their eggs and their poop. But she smelled something else, too. She smelled a woman, the same one she’d smelled on the blankets and in the garden.
She raised her snout and flexed her nostrils. She’s on the other side of this wall.
FORTY-NINE
HELLFIRE
The Father
The loaves-and-fishes event was a hit. People were eating and laughing together, chatting and playing games. Sometimes this place really did feel like paradise.
He took in a deep breath of the cool fall air. As he did, his nose detected a hint of smoke. Had someone left a fire going in the forge? Lit the fireplace in the manna hall? It didn’t seem likely. The men were careful and everyone was outside tonight.
That’s when he saw it.
At the top of the hill outside the compound, orange flames flickered. The grass on the side of the road was on fire.
Damn!
The last thing he needed was the fire coming close to the compound and his people being forced to evacuate. Being off-site might provide Juliette and Luke a chance to run away. It might also mean that Officer Luz would return and spot Juliette and Luke among the throng, realize the two hadn’t been in the church the day she and the detective had questioned the members.
Zeke hurried over and pointed up the hill. “You see that? The brush caught fire.”
By then, several other members of the group had spotted the flames, too. They’d forgotten their meals and stood, watching the flames and murmuring.
Jeb rushed over, too. “Should we do something? Maybe get the hoses ready?”
Emmanuel stood, ready to rush to the church office and call 911 from the only phone in the refuge. But before he could move or respond to his men, he heard the wail of distant sirens. The fire department sure had responded quickly. Good. They should have the fire extinguished in minutes and the People of Peace could return to their meal.
“No need to worry!” he called, motioning for the group to retake their seats. “It’s just a small grass fire and, as you can hear, firefighters are on their way. We’re safe here. Let’s not let it spoil our good time.”
The murmurs ceased and everyone took their seats again like the dutiful flock they were. He wondered how many of them would have gone up the hill and run through the flames if he’d told them to do it, that it would purify their souls. Hell, he was half tempted to find out.
FIFTY
WHERE THERE’S SMOKE …
Megan
The wail of the sirens on the fire truck carried through the night. The smell of the smoke wafted over, too. I hoped that the fire would prove to be enough of a distraction to allow the baby’s mother to escape. The breeze carried another smell, too. What is that? Fried fish?
With my fellow officer Summer in place nearby, Brigit and I hurried down the park trail that ran alongside the compound’s wall, our footsteps pounding on the dirt. When I heard the sound of chickens clucking, I knew I was near the coop. I rushed to the wall. “Are you there?” I called as loud as I dared.
“I’m here!” came a faint female voice. “I’m coming!”
There was a bang that sounded like a door slamming, followed by louder clucking, the flap of multiple sets of wings, and a second female voice calling out, “Juliette! What are you doing?”
Juliette? That must be the name of the baby’s mother.
“I’m sorry, Naomi!” Juliette cried. “I’m getting out of here and I know you’ll run back and tell the others if I don’t tie you in the coop!”
The door banged again, but softer, as if it could only open an inch or two. “Juliette!” Naomi shrieked, her cry punctuated with a squawk. “You can’t trap me in here with these hens! They’ll peck me! Come back here!”
But Juliette didn’t go back. Instead, she ran to the wall and cried, “Whoever you are, I’m ready! What do I do?”
It hit me how horribly sad it was that this desperate young woman’s only hope was to put her trust not in her family or fellow church members, but in total strangers. She’d done it when she’d sewn the me
ssage in the quilt, and she’d done it again now. Or perhaps she’d put her trust in God.
I cupped my hands around my mouth to direct my voice. “I’m going to throw a rope over so you can climb out!” I whipped out the rope I’d brought, ready to toss an end over the top of the wall. I’d tie the other around a tree to give her some leverage.
“What about the razor wire?” she called back.
Razor wire? I looked up. Holy crap. At some point in the last couple of days, razor wire had been attached to the top of the wall. If the young woman tried to climb over it, she’d be sliced to pieces, like a ham in a deli.
The bang-bang-bang continued, and Naomi shrieked again, “Let me out! Now!”
Following her cry were more fluttering wings, more cluck-cluck-clucking, and several insistent squawks. Naomi wasn’t happy about being trapped with the birds, and they seemed equally unhappy to have her trapped in their home with them. As bad as I felt for Naomi, though, she would have to fend for herself. I’d come for the baby’s mother.
But what now?
Without a pair of wire cutters, the young mother couldn’t go over the wall. I didn’t have a sledgehammer or battering ram to break through the wall. If she couldn’t go over it and she couldn’t go through it, that left just one option. She’ll have to go under it.
“Dig!” I called. “It’s the only way!” Though she couldn’t use the rope to escape, I nonetheless tossed an end over so she’d know exactly where I was and could dig from the other side. “Look for the rope! It’ll show you where I am. Dig there!”
“I see it!” she cried.
There was a cacophony of cackles and clucks and squawks and Naomi cried out again. “These birds are attacking me!”
“I’m sorry!” Juliette called. “Get in the corner and turn your back to them! You’ll be all right!”
I fell to my knees and clawed at the earth. The top layer was packed hard and my fingernails tore as I raked at the ground with all my might.
This isn’t working!
I have to dig faster!
I whipped out my flashlight, shined it around, and spotted a stick that was around an inch in diameter. I snatched up the stick and jabbed the end at the solid soil in an attempt to loosen it. Jab-jab-jab. My elbow protested in pain, but the earth began to loosen so I didn’t stop. I could ice my arm later.
Once I was through the top layer, the moister lower layer was easier to get through. Still, my fingers were hardly an efficient tool. My kingdom for a shovel!
I shone the light around again and found a bagel-sized rock with a sharp edge. I grabbed it and used it like a scraper, plunging it into the soil and pulling it toward me to tear up inch after inch of soil, layer after layer, dirt clod after dirt clod.
Brigit watched me with interest. When she realized I was digging a hole, she joined in next to me, clawing at the dirt with her paws. Her longer, tougher nails gave her a huge advantage. In just a minute or two of digging, she reached the bottom of the wall. It would’ve taken me five times as long to accomplish the task.
“Keep going, girl!” I encouraged as I struggled alongside her. “Good girl!”
Brigit dug and dug and dug, kicking up dirt, some of it ending up in my hair and eyes and ears. But she could bury me in dirt as long as she got the baby’s mother out.
“Good girl! Good, good—!” I gagged as a clod of dirt lodged in my throat. Ick! I coughed it up, spit it out—PUH!—and decided to hold further praise for later.
My partner and I continued our mission, digging side by side, Brigit making far quicker progress than I.
A squeal of glee came from the other side of the wall. “I see paws!” the young woman cried.
“That’s my partner!” I called back. “She’s a trained K-9.”
While Naomi continued to bang on the door of the coop and the chickens clucked and fluttered, Juliette, Brigit, and I continued to dig, our efforts frantic. Soon, the hole was big enough that I could see fingers working on the other side, too.
“I see your hands!” I called.
Eager to see who was on the other side of the wall, Brigit put her head down and peered through the hole.
Juliette cried, “Thank you, dog! Keeping digging! Please!”
My partner and I dug, and dug, and dug, and dug. When the hole was nearly a foot deep, a face appeared on the other side, illuminated by the beam of my flashlight, which lay on the ground at my side. The face belonged to the young woman with the dark hair, just as I’d expected.
She blinked against the glare. “Bless you!” she cried, tears streaming down her face. “Bless you for helping me!”
“Can you get through yet?”
She shoved her head into the hole. From my side, all I could see was the top of her scalp, as if she were being reborn into the free world.
She pulled back. “Not yet! It’s not big enough yet!”
The three of us continued to dig. The hole was wide enough now, but still lacked a few inches. Brigit continued to send pawfuls of dirt into the air, and I could hear it showering down on the ground behind us.
I looked at the hole again. It might be deep enough now.
“Try again!” I called to the young woman.
Again she stuck her head in the hole. Again it didn’t quite fit through.
“Turn your head sideways!” I said.
She turned her head and next thing I knew it was on my side of the wall. Brigit licked the side of Juliette’s face, washing away the tears. “I’m stuck!” she cried.
“Hold on!”
I dug around her. Brigit did, too. Juliette wiggled and wriggled and wrestled and wrangled. Eventually, her entire top half was through the hole. The bottom half, however, seemed intent on remaining in the compound. Her butt was stuck.
Brigit and I continued to dig, trying to get under her to remove the dirt impeding her progress. Face contorted in agony and determination, the young woman pushed herself up on her hands, arching her back and pressing her pelvis into the dirt as hard as she could to make room for her rear. Inch by precious inch she pulled herself forward, her skirt sliding down to her hips, until finally her rump broke free of the wall. I stood, grabbed her wrists, and pulled her the rest of the way through.
She rolled onto her back, her face covered in muddy tears Brigit was doing her best to clean away. “I’m free!” Juliette cried, raising her voice and hands to the heavens. “Thank God! I’m free!”
FIFTY-ONE
HOT DIGGEDY DOG
Brigit
Yay! Digging is so much fun!
Usually, Brigit only got to dig in the backyard. She’d dig up grubs for a crunchy, gooey snack. She’d dig a hole to hide her bones in. Sometimes she’d dig because the cool, moist earth underneath the hard, warm top layer felt good on her paws and was nice to lie on. But tonight, she’d gotten to dig an extra big hole. And there were chickens on the other side! Did this mean Megan was going to let her wriggle through and grab a chicken to take home? She sure hoped so!
FIFTY-TWO
FLOWN THE COOP
Father Emmanuel
When he realized the fire seemed a little too coincidental, a little too contained, and that it was taking the fire department a little too long to put out what was only a small blaze, Father Emmanuel realized what was going on. The fire had been intentionally set as a distraction. And the only thing anyone might try to distract him from was the young man and woman he’d been holding in the compound against their will.
He found Luke right away. Zeke and Jeb flanked the young man, ensuring he couldn’t sneak away. But Juliette was another story. Where is she?
He charged toward Sister Margaret. “Where is she?” he cried. “Where’s sister Juliette?”
Sister Margaret seemed taken aback by his forceful tone. “She’s gone to the henhouse, Father. With Sister Naomi. It was their turn to collect the eggs tonight.”
He stormed past the woman and aimed for the chicken coop, running as fast as he could in his boots an
d robe, which seemed determined to trip him up.
As he drew near, he could tell something wasn’t right. Juliette’s lantern hung from a hook outside the coop, but its flame had been extinguished. Fingers curled through the wire, and Naomi’s face was pressed up against the door. A hair ribbon had been tied around the frame and knotted tightly on the outside, trapping the young woman inside with the boisterous birds. Squawk-squawk! Cluck-cluck-cluck!
“Father!” Naomi cried. “I’m so glad you’re here! Juliette locked me in here and—”
“Where is she?” he barked.
“I don’t know,” Naomi said, her young face bewildered, her voice softer.
Emmanuel’s eyes darted around, looking for signs that might tell him in which direction she’d gone. Where the hell is she?
Only God could help her if Emmanuel caught her. There was no way in hell he’d let that little whore bring him down.
A scuffling noise behind the chicken coop caught his attention. He circled the coop just in time to see Juliette’s feet disappear through a hole that had been dug under the wall. He could see two furry legs on the other side.
It’s that bitch cop and her bitch dog.
He should’ve known they’d be back. Only God could help them if he got a hold of them, too.
As much as he’d like to settle the score with that cop and her dog, revenge would have to wait. With Juliette now on the outside, it was only a matter of time before law enforcement would be swarming all over the refuge. His only hope was to get out now, before the officers realized he was gone.
He ran to his house as fast as he could with his robe still doing its best to wrap around his legs. He pulled the ladder and wire cutters out from behind the bushes hiding them. In mere seconds, he’d leaned the ladder against the wall and scaled it to the top, where he used the wire cutters to strip through the rigid strands of razor wire. He didn’t bother trying to pull the ladder up and over to climb down on the other side. Instead, he straddled the wall, leaning forward across it, and swung his inside leg over to slide down the other side.