Hope

by A. American

  – Samuel Smiles

  Descanso, CA

  The green glow from Neal’s Casio G-Shock always comforted him. It reminded him of a different time; maybe it was because he’d had the watch for almost twenty years or that out of so much around him it was one of the few reliable things he had left. Whatever the reason, the watch told him it was just a few minutes past three in the morning, and he had made it to the first stop, Charlotte’s house.

  She hadn’t asked him to go there, nor had she told him where it was, but her diary was a treasure trove of information, one being her address.

  To his surprise, she was still alive but wouldn’t be for long, he feared. He carried her inside. The house was two stories, so he imagined her bedroom was on the second floor. He raced up and into the first bedroom he found. He gently laid her down on the thick pink duvet cover and smiled when he saw her name in big block letters above the bed. What luck, he thought.

  He removed his headlamp and pointed it towards the ceiling. The white light lit the entire room and provided a warm ambience. Tenderly he lifted her shirt and frowned when he saw her wound.

  The stitches had popped out, and thick blood mixed with pus was oozing out heavily.

  She was going to bleed out.

  He couldn’t believe she had made it this long. Was she holding on for Hope?

  “Charlotte, I’m going to go get Hope now. I’m not sure when I’m going to return, but I’ll come for you as soon as I can,” he said, holding her hand.

  She didn’t move or acknowledge him, but she was alive, barely.

  Seeing her reminded him of Beth. He kissed her hand and said, “I’ll be back. You hang in there.” He rushed out of the room and down the stairs and out the door. His adrenaline was pumping; he knew the next act in the Saving Hope play was going to be tough. Wanting to lighten the load, he emptied everything out of the trailer onto the ground. He quickly inspected his vest, ensuring his magazines were all there, before jumping back on the bike.

  As he rode down the driveway towards uncertainty, he chuckled that Hope’s savior wasn’t coming on a white stallion but a Kona Dawg Deluxe mountain bike. He laughed even harder as he thought, hi ho, Kona Dawg, away!

  Guatay, CA

  Using the cover of night, Neal navigated up the hillside, the same one that Bob had gone down when he fled the compound.

  The concealment the night provided also put him at a disadvantage because he couldn’t see where any guards were.

  His plan was to move slowly from one covered spot to another, each time taking a moment to listen.

  When he stopped each time, he took notice of how eerily quiet it was.

  A glow of lights came from the far end of the compound. That had to be where the main house was according to the map Charlotte had drawn and he had committed to memory.

  Neal remembered reading Charlotte’s diary about the compound having generators, hence the lights.

  He moved again and took up cover behind a jutting rock. He was thirty or so feet from the fence now. Again he listened for any movement or voices.

  Nothing.

  It was odd. He had been slowly advancing up the hill for an hour, and he hadn’t heard one thing or seen a guard.

  Between him and the fence, there didn’t appear to be any cover. This was where he’d have to make a beeline, cut his way through, and enter the compound. From the fence his plan was to head straight up the hill and take cover behind the row of metal buildings. The center building was where Charlotte claimed to have been held and most likely was where Hope would be found if she was still there.

  His preparation for the raid was thorough. He had six fully loaded thirty-round magazines for his rifle, four fully loaded magazines for his Sig, two knives and, more importantly, the will to see it until its end even if that meant his demise.

  Neal readied himself, counted to three, and raced to the fence. When he got there, he pulled out his Leatherman tool, opened the wire cutters, and began clipping the individual links that held the chain-link fence to the pole. Four cuts later he was inside and running to the rear of the metal outbuildings.

  He reached the first building, squatted down and again listened.

  Nothing but quiet.

  “What the hell? Where is everyone?” he said under his breath.

  With no one around or in earshot, he stood and ran down the alley to the back door of the center building. He gulped, nervous that at any moment he’d encounter someone, and checked the knob by turning it slowly. Finding it was unlocked, he opened the door and peeked into the dark hall.

  No one was there or at least not that he could see.

  A light emanated from a single room on the left-hand side.

  He stepped inside and with special care diligently took each step. He paused to listen, but still the place had an eerie silence to it. He lifted his right foot and extended it but felt something beneath it. He squatted down and felt with his available hand.

  It was a body.

  He stood and waited before again stepping forward and over the body. He reached the point in the hall where it teed off to a short hall that accessed the front entrance. The door at the end was open, and he could see a couple floodlights shining down on the main yard.

  Several unidentifiable large lumps or piles lay outside the main house. He had a hunch what they were but needed his binoculars to properly identify them.

  He retrieved them from a pocket on his tactical vest, looked through and focused. When the lenses cleared, he discovered the large lumps were bodies. Interesting, he said to himself.

  Seeing more dead people began to fill him with confidence that he’d not find any opposition, but it also filled him with fear that Hope might be dead and his long journey there was for naught.

  He pocketed the binoculars and proceeded to the door described by Charlotte. It was also the room where a faint light could be seen from under the door.

  He reached out, touched the knob, and turned it to find it unlocked.

  This was it, opening this door would signal the end to the short adventure. He slowly turned the knob until he heard the latch release. Unsure what he’d find on the other side, he raised his pistol and readied for a fight. In one swift movement he swung the door open and stood there.

  He found the light originated from a small lantern in the center of the room. To the right he saw a bunk with no one in it, and on the left was another bunk, and there he saw a little girl.

  Neal came in and asked, “Are you Hope?”

  His abrupt entrance had scared her. She sat cowering with her legs drawn up to her chest and her face buried.

  He stepped further inside the room and again asked, “Are you Hope?”

  “Yes,” she whimpered.

  “I’m Neal. Your sister, Charlotte, sent me to rescue you.”

  Hope looked up, her face filled with joy upon hearing Charlotte’s name and knowing she was being rescued.

  He walked over to her, knelt down and asked, “Are you okay? Are you hurt at all?”

  “No.”

  “Where is everyone?”

  “Dead, everyone is dead,” Hope answered.

  “How?”

  “Some poisoned, others killed each other, and a few left and brought back other bad men, who killed everyone else,” Hope said. The poisoning harkened back to Bob’s covert plan for revenge against Tony and his men.

  “You’re alone, no one else is here?” he asked.

  “I’m alone.”

  “And you’re unharmed?” he again asked, needing to make sure she didn’t need attention.

  “I’m fine. I hid from them. Things got really bad, so I went and hid.”

  “Thank God,” Neal said, breathing a sigh of relief.

  Hope looked past him and asked, “Where’s Charlotte?”

  “She’s not well,” Neal said, offering his hand.

  “Where is she?”

  Neal didn’t want to be honest with her just yet; he needed her to remain calm so
as to get her out of there with ease.

  “Is she coming?” Hope asked.

  “She’s at home, your home. We need to get out of here,” he said and offered his hand.

  She looked at it, hesitated, but felt he was a good man, so she took it.

  He picked her up.

  “No, Cuddles, grab Cuddles,” Hope squealed, fearing her teddy bear would be left behind.

  Neal looked on the bunk and saw the stuffed animal. He picked it up and handed it to her.

  Hope warmly embraced Cuddles.

  Not wasting any more time, he carried her out the back and towards the fence line.

  “You’re taking me home?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  They reached the fence line, and Neal put her down. “It’s a very long walk, so are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Why not drive?” she asked.

  “I wish. I don’t have a vehicle.”

  “I know where there’s a car,” Hope said.

  “You do?”

  “Yes, it’s back there,” she said and pointed back to the compound.

  He raised his eyebrows, curious. He then questioned why he didn’t think of looking for one.

  “Come on,” she said and took his hand and led him back to the top of the hill. She pointed to a large shed to the right of the main house. “It’s over there. I hid in there when everything went bad.”

  “Does it start?” he asked.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I just know there’s a car in there.”

  “Worth a try,” he said then picked her up without asking and jogged across the yard.

  The door to the shed was wide open. He turned on his headlamp and right there in front of him sat the Dodge. He put her down, got behind the wheel and first thing checked if the keys were in the ignition already. They weren’t, so he began to look. He popped the glove box and found nothing. He pulled down the visors, hoping they’d drop, but they weren’t there either.

  “If I were a key, where would I be?” he asked out loud.

  Hope leaned in and pointed. “They’re in there.”

  “Here?” he asked, pointing to the ashtray.

  “Yes.”

  He pulled it out to find a set of keys attached to a rabbit’s foot.

  “I guess this does mean good luck,” he said, taking the keys and inserting them in the ignition. Nervous, he looked at her and said, “Pray this starts.”

  She closed her eyes.

  He followed suit by pressing his eyes closed and saying a short prayer. When he finished, he turned the key. The car roared to life. “Get in,” he ordered.

  Hope climbed over him and sat in the passenger seat.

  Being a parent, he looked at her and said, “In the back, get in the back. I’d say buckle up, but these old cars don’t tend to have seat belts.”

  Hope did as he said.

  The last thing stopping him from leaving was the garage door. He got out, pushed it up, and got right back into the car. He looked over his shoulder at Hope, who sat calmly with her hands folded on her lap, and said, “Let’s take you home.”

  Descanso, CA

  Finally things were looking up and working out for Neal. He’d walked into the compound unopposed, found Hope alive, and the bonus was finding an operational car. However, his past experiences, mainly the most recent ones, told him that the string of good fortune would soon end.

  Hope remained quiet the entire drive to her house.

  He asked her questions, but by her one-word answers, he could tell she didn’t have a desire to talk. Who could blame her; she was six years old and had been through something traumatic.

  When Hope saw her house, she grew excited and antsy. She scooted close to the back door and waited patiently for them to pull up front.

  Neal slowed as he approached the pile of supplies he had left in the driveway.

  Hope opened the door and jumped out.

  “Whoa, be careful. We’re not stopped,” Neal said.

  Hope sprinted from the car and into the house. “Charlotte, Charlotte, I’m home, I’m home!” she shouted with joy. It was dark, but Hope knew every inch of her house.

  Neal suddenly realized Hope might find Charlotte dead, and that would be a horrible discovery. With urgency he followed after her. He cleared the steps on the porch but tripped going into the house. He hit the floor hard and lay there for a second.

  Upstairs, he heard Hope talking.

  “Hope, I’m coming up,” Neal said, getting to his feet and climbing the steps.

  The light from the headlamp he had left behind cast its glow into the hall.

  Neal approached the doorway but stopped short of walking in.

  Charlotte was alive. She was lying still except for her right hand, which was petting Hope’s hair.

  Hope lay next to Charlotte, her head buried in her shoulder and her arms tight against her sides.

  Neal could tell by Charlotte’s blood-soaked shirt and pants that the bleeding was getting worse. Feeling uncomfortable, he backed away from the door.

  “No,” Charlotte said, her voice just above a whisper.

  He looked in and asked, “Are you talking to me?”

  “Come,” she said.

  Feeling uneasy about encroaching on their intimate moment, he said, “It’s fine. I was just checking on you.”

  “Please,” Charlotte insisted.

  Reluctantly he entered the room and stood only a couple feet in.

  “Closer,” Charlotte beckoned.

  Hope watched Neal carefully while whispering to Charlotte.

  “You seem better,” Neal said as he took a few more steps into the room.

  “Thank you,” Charlotte said.

  “You’re welcome. Hey, what do you know, I did something right,” he said.

  “I love you, Hope,” Charlotte said, her voice struggling. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

  Hope only whimpered.

  “I need you to go with this man. He’ll keep you safe,” Charlotte said to Hope then looked at Neal. “You’ll do that, won’t you?”

  “Yes, of course,” Neal replied.

  “No, I’m staying here with you,” Hope said.

  “I’m dying,” Charlotte said.

  “No,” Hope whimpered.

  Neal’s heartstrings were pulling hard as he watched the two girls talk.

  “You can’t die,” Hope said.

  “Go with Neal. He’ll keep you safe.”

  Unsure exactly what he should say, he said, “I will, I promise. You and I are going to go far away, on a boat.”

  “I don’t want to leave,” Hope whined.

  “It’s not safe here anymore. It’s not safe anywhere,” Charlotte said then grunted in pain.

  “No, no, please don’t die,” Hope cried.

  “Can I get you anything?” Neal asked.

  “No,” Charlotte replied. She closed her eyes. Tears streamed from the sides of her closed eyelids.

  “Please don’t leave me,” Hope cried.

  “Mom, is that you?” Charlotte asked, her eyes still shut.

  Hope looked up at Charlotte.

  “I’ve missed you,” Charlotte said.

  Hope began to sob.

  Neal couldn’t fight his own tears and let them stream unhindered down his face. In the span of a week he was witnessing another person leave this mortal existence.

  “Dad, I hid like you told me,” Charlotte said, then unexpectedly opened her eyes.

  Hope cried out, “Charlotte?”

  Charlotte looked at Hope and said, “Mom says…”

  A long pause followed.

  “Be strong. Don’t be sad…”

  Another pause.

  “Remember…live…” Charlotte said then gasped.

  “Charlotte, no, please come back,” Hope cried.

  Neal too was overwhelmed with grief and began to sob. Watching Charlotte die brought back the memory of losing Beth and Karen.

  The tw
o cried and grieved. Both of them letting out the pain of loss so different but so similar.

  Neal looked at Hope. He now knew his finding her wasn’t random chance; something greater than him had enabled her to survive and given him the power to find her. This wasn’t luck, this was a destined encounter.

  Neal buried Charlotte alongside the grave where Drew had buried the girl’s father. This was unknown to Charlotte, as Drew wanted to take her there to show he cared. However, fate never allowed that to happen.

  Hope stood at the foot of the graves with a handful of wildflowers. Her tears were gone. She watched stoically as Neal placed the wooden crosses at the head of the graves. In her other arm, Cuddles with his ever-present stitched grin, was tucked facing out.

  Neal wiped his hands on his pants and took a place next to Hope. “Do you want to say anything?” he asked.

  “I’ll miss you, I love you,” Hope said and put the flowers down.

  “May they rest in peace,” Neal said.

  Hope turned around and walked towards the house.

  Neal caught up to her and asked, “Are you okay?”

  “I’m better now,” she said.

  “Good, I guess now is a good time to talk about where we’re going.”

  Hope took a seat on the back steps and looked towards the rolling hills to the east.

  He sat next to her and asked, “Ever been to Costa Rica?”

  She shook her head.

  “That’s where we’re going. It’s nice there, I’ve been twice. My wife and I honeymooned there the first time, then went two summers ago with Beth, my daughter.”

  “You had a daughter?” Hope asked.

  “Yes, she was pretty and sweet like you.”

  “Did she die?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  “Tell me about Costa Rica?”

  “Well, it’s warm there all the time, and the water, the ocean temperature is perfect. You can go swimming without freezing your butt off. It’s not cold like the ocean here. And the beaches, they’re divine, they stretch for miles. The sand is silky soft and white. Oh, and the food, it’s so good,” he described as he motioned with his hands.

  “Sounds nice.”

  “It is.”

  “Is it safe?”

  He wasn’t really sure if it was because he didn’t really know what was going on anywhere else in the world, but he assumed the problems they had been experiencing only occurred in the United States. “Yeah, it is.”