by Reid, Terri
“You bitch!” Gigi screamed. “I’m going to kill you.”
“I won’t shoot you,” Mary called, “if you just give up and come back this way. It’s not safe in here. The tunnel could collapse.”
Gigi fired another shot and Mary heard it thump into the dirt wall only a few feet away. Then she heard the rumble.
“Mary, get out!” Bill screamed. “It’s coming down!”
She turned and started to run. The ground beneath her feet started to shake, and she was tossed against the wall. Trying to get her bearings in the darkness, she called out. “Which way?”
“Mary, this way!” Bradley called from behind her.
Following his voice, she stumbled forward as clumps of dirt began to drop from the ceiling. Another shot rang out somewhere behind her, and she felt the tunnel reverberate in response. Finally, she reached the curve where she could see the opening. She placed her foot forward to run, but suddenly the walls on either side of her collapsed. “Bradley,” she started to cry out as she reached for him, but her words were cut off by a layer of soft soil.
A tiny pocket of air had formed beneath her face when she protected her face with her arm. Her other arm had been extended and was trapped in the dirt. She breathed shallowly, trying not to panic. Bradley saw where she was. He was only a few yards away. The tunnel couldn’t be that deep. She took a short shuddering breath and prayed. “Oh, God, please don’t let me die. Please save my baby.”
She felt pressure on her extended hand. Someone was clasping it. Suddenly, she felt herself being pulled up out of the dirt. She gasped deeply when the air hit her face, and a moment later, she was pulled into Bradley’s embrace.
“Damn it,” he whispered hoarsely. “You scared me to death.”
She took in another deep, shuddering breath. “I scared me to death, too,” she gasped. “Thanks for pulling me out.”
“It wasn’t that hard,” he said. “This part of the tunnel was only a half foot from the ground, so when I came running out here, I could see your fingers in the sand.”
“How about Gigi?” she asked.
“She’s down there, somewhere, about four feet under,” he said. “We’ve got guys digging, but I don’t know if she’s going to be so lucky.”
Bradley led her back into the barn, and they hurried back to Chief Chase, watching the EMTs work on her. Mike was kneeling over her, offering encouraging words. “Chelsea, hang in there,” he urged.
Chelsea’s eyes fluttered open for a moment. “Mike? Mike is that you?” she asked, her voice weak and disoriented. “Are you going to walk me home?”
He shook his head. “I hope not, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I hope not.”
Mary could see the bullet entrance wound had caused a hole below her shoulder that oozed blood, and she knew that exit wound was going to be even worse.
“Let’s pray the bullet missed her heart,” she murmured.
The EMTs carefully lifted her and placed her on the gurney. With her IV waving as they pushed her away, they rushed her out of the barn and to the waiting ambulance.
“Mary, she could see me,” Mike said, appearing next to her. “She wanted me to walk her home.”
“No,” Mary said stubbornly. “She is not going home. She’s staying here.”
Chapter Forty-nine
The ambulance pulled out of the driveway and flew down the road towards Galena, its siren screaming. A moment later, a handcuffed Joey was guided out of the house to a waiting squad car. Chris walked over to join Mary and Bradley on the lawn in front of the house.
“He was hiding behind the couch in the living room with a semi-automatic rifle, waiting for us,” Chris said. “When we burst in, he let loose a volley of shots. But what he didn’t plan on was the kickback of the gun. The first shots went wild, and the next ones ended up in the ceiling. By the time he scrambled off his back, we were across the room, guns drawn, and he gave up without a fight.”
Another ambulance pulled into the driveway and drove past them and the long narrow ditch that was filled with men and shovels.
“What happened there?” Chris asked.
“There was a tunnel from the house to the barn,” Mary said, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “A female gunman jumped out with her gun drawn and shot the first person she saw, Police Chief Chase.”
“How’s Chase doing?” he asked.
Bradley put his arm around Mary and squeezed her lightly to comfort her. “The EMTs worked on her for a while,” he said. “They were able to stabilize her before they put her in the ambulance, so that’s a good sign. But it was a bad looking wound.”
“So what happened to you?” he asked Mary.
“The gunman ran back into the tunnel,” Bradley answered. “So of course, my wife had to follow.”
“I didn’t want her jumping out on the other end, surprising you,” she said.
“Well, thank you,” he said. “She would have had the jump on us, because once we searched the premises for anyone else, we read Joey his Miranda rights and started asking questions.”
He brushed some of the dirt from Mary’s shoulder. “So, then what happened?”
“The tunnel collapsed,” Mary said. “I was nearly at the opening.”
“Not nearly enough,” Bradley inserted. “Luckily, closer to the barn, the tunnel was only inches below the dirt, so I could pull her out. We’re still searching for the gunman’s body. We don’t know where she was in the tunnel, and nearer to the house the tunnel is closer to eight feet underground.”
Chris nodded and looked at Mary. “Do you want to follow Chief Chase to the hospital?” he asked.
Mary shook her head. “No, we sent one of her guys with her,” she said, reassured knowing Mike had gone along with them too.
“I didn’t mean to watch over her,” Chris said with a smile. “I meant would you like to go to the hospital to be checked over?”
She shook her head. “I hate hospitals,” she said. “Besides, we want to find the evidence to shut this place down.”
“Okay,” Chris said, moving past them towards the barn. “Let’s go.”
Bill was waiting inside when Mary walked back into the barn. “I won’t be sorry if Gigi’s dead,” he said. “Does that make me a bad person?”
Mary shook her head. “No, that makes you human,” she replied quietly. “Now, let’s find those panels so we can get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”
In a matter of minutes, Mary had called some of Chris’s technicians over to the control room to collect several files filled with information and the hard drive.
“This is great,” Chris said. “How did you find these panels so quickly?”
“Mary has a sixth sense about these things,” Bradley said.
Chris smiled. “I don’t know if I mentioned it,” he said. “But I worked with your brother Sean a couple months ago and he told me this amazing story about his kid sister.”
Mary sighed softly. She really didn’t feel like being judged again. “Yeah, I know what you’re thinking,” she said, her voice tired.
“Really?” he asked. “Because I was raised in an old house that was definitely haunted. I’ve seen a number of ghosts in my day. I have no problem believing what Sean told me.”
“Thank you,” she said. “It gets a little exhausting either having to hide what you can do or justifying it to people who don’t believe no matter how well you perform.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I can imagine,” he said. “Now, I know it’s been a really a long morning, but I was wondering if you and Bradley wanted to take a walk in the woods with me so I could make a list of some of the names of the buried.”
Bradley nodded. “It makes it a lot easier to identify bodies if you know who you’re looking for,” he said.
“That’s my thinking,” Chris replied.
“Sure, I can do that,” Mary said. “The first two people you need to put on your list are Liza Parker, a five-year-old who had been adopted by the La
rson family in Dubuque, Iowa. We can send you the contact information.”
Mary looked over to Bill Patterson, who had been standing next to them the whole time they’d been speaking. “And the next is Bill Patterson, a contractor from Dubuque,” she said. “He was the source who told us about the barn and what happened here. He told me about the secret tunnel and probably saved my life. He’s a true hero, and it would be nice if his family knew about his heroism.”
Chris jotted down the name. “I’ll make sure I personally handle this one,” he said.
“Thank you,” Mary replied.
“Thank you, Mary,” Bill said. “Thanks for letting me make amends.”
He looked over his shoulder and then back at Mary. “The guys are here,” he said. “They’re calling me, so I guess I can go now.”
Nodding, Mary smiled at him. “Bill’s a great guy,” she said softly. “And his family should be proud of him.”
“Thanks, Mary,” he said. “Thanks a lot.”
Chapter Fifty
Light filtered down through the leaves on the trees, dappling the grass and leaf covered earth with golden light. Mary, Bradley and Chris slowly walked through the woods trying to find signs of makeshift graves. Birds sang in the trees, and a soft wind whistled through the tree limbs. The sky was bright blue with a few puffy, scattered clouds lingering lazily on the horizon.
“This doesn’t feel like a graveyard,” Bradley said.
They followed a set of large tire tracks that scarred the pristine ground and disappeared over a hill about forty yards ahead.
“I think they probably buried them over that hill,” Chris said. “Close enough to be handy but far enough away from the house that no one would notice the constant excavation.”
“I wonder how many people are buried here,” Mary said. “They’ve been doing this for a number of years.”
They reached the rise a few minutes later, and Mary gasped, leaning against a tree. Bradley came to her side and held her hand, wanting to see what she had seen. The small valley looked like a construction site. Upturned raw earth was everywhere. The trees had been plowed down to make room for pile after pile of small, rectangular hills with small tufts of grass and weeds growing between them. However, Mary was blind to the landscape. All she saw were the children. There were at least thirty little girls walking together, hand in hand, slowly climbing up from the desolate burial ground towards Mary. Facing the sunrise, the girls were bathed in sunlight, their features indiscernible.
Seeing a thick tree log about ten feet in front of them, Mary moved forward and sat there, hoping to present a less threatening posture to the children. “Hello,” she said softly. “My name is Mary, and I want to help you go home.”
From the middle of the group, one of the girls separated herself and came forward even as the others seemed to be wary and kept their distance.
A cloud drifted over the morning sun, and Mary was able to see the little girl’s face more clearly. “Liza,” she called. “I’m so happy to see you.”
Liza walked the few more feet to Mary’s side and stared at her for a moment. “Something’s different,” she said simply.
Mary nodded. “Yes, we were able to catch the bad man and his wife,” she explained. “They won’t be able to hurt little girls anymore.”
“Did God send them?” she asked.
“No,” Mary said vehemently, tears burning her throat. “God did not send them. God doesn’t work like that. He works with love and compassion and patience. The bad people lied to you. They had nothing to do with God.”
Liza leaned forward towards Mary’s ear and whispered. “No one loves us. No one wants us.”
Her heart breaking because she couldn’t hold Liza in her arms and comfort her, Mary shook her head and met the little girl’s eyes. “I promise you that God wants you and loves you,” she said. “He wants you to come home so He can hold you in His arms and take away all of your pain.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“I am,” Mary said confidently. “Yes, I am.”
Liza looked uncertain. She turned back to the girls on the hill and then looked at Mary. “What do we need to do?” she asked.
Mary took a deep, unsteady breath and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Well, what I’d like you to do is have everyone come up here and talk to me for just a few minutes so I can get everyone’s name and any information about who their families used to be,” she said. “And then we’ll be ready to let you go home.”
“Will it be nice? Home?”
“Nicer than anything you ever experienced here on earth,” she promised, knowing that statement probably held little comfort to the child who had never had much happiness during her short, five year stay. “And you will never have to be sad or frightened again.”
Liza just stared at her again and sighed in a sad, resigned manner as if she really didn’t believe things would get better but no longer had the strength to fight. “Okay, I’ll tell the others.”
Soon the rest of the girls joined Liza at the top of the hill and told Mary their information. Several of the girls didn’t speak English, but between Mary, Bradley, and Chris’s various bits and pieces of foreign language experience they were able to get the basic information gathered.
When the last child had answered her questions, they all stood around the log and looked at Mary. “What do we do now?” Liza asked.
Surprised they hadn’t started to pass over, Mary was starting to worry when Mike appeared next to her. “Sorry I’m late,” he whispered.
“Late? I don’t understand,” she said.
“You will,” he said sending her a quick wink as he moved into the midst of the children. “Hi, I’m Mike, and I’m an angel. I work for God, and he sent me here to help you get home.”
The girls didn’t seem convinced, and some even nervously stepped away from him.
“The thing is,” he continued, not upset by their actions. “God realizes that bad things happened to you and that you’re frightened. And he doesn’t want you to be frightened anymore, so he is sending an escort for each one of you to guide you back home. Look.”
Mike pointed up to the sky, and suddenly there seemed to be a flock of white doves circling the woods. They circled several times and then, one by one, drifted down to earth. But before they touched down, they changed from a dove to a beautiful angel dressed in white robes with large, white wings. The angels not only spoke in the languages of the girls but they also looked like they were the same nationality as the child. They greeted the children with smiles and words of comfort. Eyes wide with awe, the children eagerly went to the angels and then, enfolded in giant wings, they were securely taken home.
“That was beautiful,” Mary said, her voice thick with emotion. “It was perfect.”
“I’m not done yet,” Mike replied.
And he was right. Mary realized there was one child left. Liza.
“I asked God if I could bring you home,” he said, squatting down next to her. “You were the hero. You helped us discover all of the other girls who were lost, too. But if you’re uncomfortable, I can send for another angel to come and get you.”
She studied him for a moment and then stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. Mike held her in his arms and stood, turning to Mary. “I’ll be back,” he said, tears running down his cheeks, “as soon as I see Liza safely home.”
Chapter Fifty-one
Mary stood outside the hospital room, very unsure of her welcome. “I don’t want to be here,” she whispered to Bradley, who was standing next to her. “I hate hospitals.”
“She asked to see you,” he whispered back. “That’s got to be a good sign.”
“Is she still armed?” Mary asked.
Before Bradley could answer, the door opened, and a nurse walked out. “Are you Mary?” she asked.
“Yes,” Mary replied.
“Thank you for coming,” the nurse said. “She’s been pretty frantic about seeing you
. You can go in now.”
Mary grabbed Bradley’s hand in a death-defying grip. “I need him to come in with me,” she said, “for moral support.”
The nurse nodded and held open the door for both of them.
Mary entered with the same reverence she would have felt if she had been walking into a chapel. She understood, more than most, that hospital rooms were often portals between this life and the next. Chief Chase, no, Mary corrected herself, Chelsea lay on a white sheet and pillowcase with a myriad of tubes and lines attached to her body. The monitor on the left side of the bed blinked reassuringly as her heart beat was registered in electronic cadence. An IV stand was on the right side of her bed with several plastic bags hanging from it, all filled with various hues of liquids flowing from the stand into her body.
She approached the bed, not knowing what to expect. “Chelsea,” she whispered quietly. “It’s Mary.”
Eyelids fluttered open, and Chelsea took a moment to focus on Mary’s face. “Mary,” she croaked. “Thank you for coming.”
“Sure, no problem,” Mary replied. “What do you need?”
“I’m sorry,” Chelsea breathed. “So sorry. I saw…I saw…”
Mary nodded. “I know you saw Mike,” she said. “He told me.”
“I saw…my…my mom,” she said. “She died…when I was small.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Mary replied, thinking about her own mother and how she would feel if she didn’t have her in her life. “That must have been hard.”
“I was angry,” she continued. “If…if ghosts were real…why hadn’t…why hadn’t she come to me?”
“It doesn’t always work that way,” Mary replied. “I’m sure she would have come if she could.”
Chelsea nodded slowly and smiled. “She told me…told me I needed to stay. Told me she would be watching over me. Told me she had always been there.”
Mary nodded. “Yeah, that’s what moms do,” she agreed.
Chelsea moved her hand, trying to reach Mary. Mary took Chelsea’s hand in her own. “Please forgive me,” Chelsea said.