Wilderness Target

by Sharon Dunn

  The thug’s footsteps faded. After another ten or so minutes had passed, she couldn’t hear voices or footsteps. She lifted her head, not catching any sign that the men were close by. She rose to her knees and peered through the plants in all directions. Confident that they had moved on, she whispered, “Ezra.”

  The plants made a rustling sound and then he was beside her. “They went off that way.”

  “Toward the farmhouses.” She couldn’t hide her disappointment.

  “Yeah, my guess is they will be knocking on every door, acting like policemen and saying we’re fugitives. They might even be searching the places. No farmer will help us.”

  She glanced through the barbed wire fence. Three sets of lights glowed in the distance. “Even if we could get to one of those farmhouses before they did, we’d endanger the lives of the people there.”

  “I think we’d be better off heading toward the road and trying to catch a ride into town,” he said.

  A wave of sadness and fatigue hit her. “How far are we from New Irish?”

  “Twenty minutes if we don’t catch a ride. It’s another hour to get back to Discovery by car.”

  “If we can catch a ride before they catch us.” She hung her head, fighting hard not to give in to the encroaching despair.

  He covered her hand with his. “I know that seems implausible right now, but don’t give up.” He pressed his palm against her cheek and drew her close. “We’re almost home. Three hours ago, we couldn’t even see the lights of civilization. Look how far we’ve come.”

  “I’m so tired. This is hard,” she said.

  “I know. I am, too.” His fingers brushed over her cheek. “But we need to keep moving. We’ve got to take advantage of the darkness while we have it.” He gathered her into his arms and held her close, his strength and warmth replenishing her spent energy and renewing her hope.

  He rose to his feet and held out a hand for her, pulling her up. She’d never known someone like Ezra, strong and yet capable of such a gentle response to her discouragement. She supposed that was what made him a good leader—his ability to talk people off their emotional ledges. And he probably would have made the maximum effort to save her life no matter who she was. But she’d like to believe that there was something more driving his responses to her than a sense of duty. She certainly felt the stirrings of affection in her heart. For the first time in ten years, she entertained the possibility that love could come into her life.

  They walked on until they entered a field where the hay had been harvested and rolled into huge cylindrical bales. Ezra stopped. “Let’s take a break and eat the canned goods Henry gave us.”

  Clarissa slumped down to the ground beside a bale. Ezra handed her a can with a pull-off top. He rooted through the pack. “Do you suppose your spoon survived all this backpack has been through?”

  She leaned close to him. “I don’t know.” The bag had new holes and tears from all the rough treatment. She took it and felt around. The water filter was still there as well as a cup. Her fingers grazed over the money she had stuffed in an inner pocket.

  Just over a week ago, she’d been wearing nice suits, eating at expensive restaurants and sailing down the freeways of Los Angeles. Now she was searching a dirty, torn backpack, hoping to find a utensil so she didn’t have to eat with her fingers.

  She recovered a spoon and a fork. “I have peaches. What do you have to eat?”

  Ezra squinted in the dim light. “Looks like pork and beans.”

  “We’ll share.” She stabbed a peach with her fork and moved it toward his mouth.

  “Mmm...sweet.” He offered her a spoonful of beans.

  After they finished eating, she rested her head against his shoulder. “Can we just stay here a moment longer?”

  Ezra tilted his face toward the sky, probably calculating how long they had until dawn. “It wouldn’t hurt to catch our breath.”

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  “About my life in L.A. How it’s all gone...everything but my faith.”

  “You miss it.”

  “No, I guess not,” she said. “If we get to town, and we’re able to prove that Max is behind all this, he’ll go to jail, which is where he clearly belongs. I wouldn’t want to undo it all and go back to working for him. I just don’t know what happens next in my life.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My whole life since I was fifteen, all my energy and focus, went into working, to get ahead and not ever be hungry again.”

  He leaned back against the hay bale. “So you go back to work. Sounds like you have lots of skills and experience.”

  She stared up at the stars. “I’m starting to think there must be something more for me than focusing on work.” For the first time in ten years, she was beginning to wonder if she could dare hope for a husband and a family. “Do you ever think about that?”

  “I used to. With the kind of job I have, what kind of woman would put up with me?” The tone of his voice changed, hinting at some deep anger. “Work is enough for me.”

  Clarissa crumbled inside. Ezra couldn’t have been more clear. She’d taken a risk, put her heart out there, and his response had proved that he wasn’t interested. She wouldn’t do that again. She purged her voice of all emotion. “I suppose we should get going.”

  They walked for several hours. Clarissa nursed the deep hurt that was like a knife through her. As the sun rose up over the mountains, the country road came into view.

  SIXTEEN

  To Ezra the road was a welcome sight. Traffic would be light this time of day, but hopefully, someone would go by who’d be willing to give them a lift. Max’s men had assumed they’d headed toward the farmhouses, which bought them some time. But sooner or later the thugs would figure out where they had gone.

  Clarissa had been quiet since they left the hayfield, and Ezra hadn’t really felt like talking, either. Her question about marriage and family had brought up the old pain connected with Emma. Thinking about her only made him angry.

  “I hear a truck.” Clarissa grabbed his arm and pointed at the dust cloud up the road.

  “Let’s hope he stops.” If the driver didn’t pick them up, they might be walking on this road for a while, which left them dangerously exposed. They couldn’t stay out in the open like this for long.

  Clarissa had shown admirable strength through this whole trauma, but he could tell that her emotions were wearing thin. He needed to get her back to Discovery.

  The truck loaded with rectangular hay bales came into view. It whizzed past them, but stopped about twenty yards up the road. Ezra ran ahead. A black-and-white border collie stuck his head out the passenger side window and barked.

  “You hush up now, Bart.” The man was clean-cut, with streaks of gray in his black, curly hair. The dog sat back on its haunches at the command but continued to eye Ezra with suspicion.

  “We could use a ride.” Not wanting to rile the dog up again, Ezra stood back from the window.

  “Where to?”

  “New Irish,” Ezra said.

  “I’m taking a load of hay into Discovery.”

  “Sir, that would be even better.” The end to their flight was getting closer by the minute.

  The man seemed to be sizing Ezra up when he noticed the military patch on his jacket. “Marine Corps, huh?”

  “Two tours in Iraq, sir.”

  “I go back a little further than that.” Any suspicion the man had seemed to melt. “Why don’t you and your friend get up in the cab? If Bart can stand you, I can stand you.”

  “Deal.” Ezra waved Clarissa over. “He’ll take us.”

  “What’s your name, son?”

  “Ezra Jefferson.”

  The man tipped his baseball hat. “Steven Gould.”

/>   Clarissa stood beside Ezra as he opened the door. Bart offered her a warm reception, licking her face and sitting on her lap when she crawled into the cab.

  “Bart tends to like women,” said Steven. “Men he’s not so sure about.”

  Ezra scooted in beside her. As the truck rumbled down the road, he searched the sky for signs of the helicopter, but saw nothing.

  Steven drove through the tiny town of New Irish and turned onto the highway. The conversation was mostly about both men’s military experience. Even though Ezra and Clarissa probably looked awful, Steven didn’t ask any questions about what had brought them to that stretch of road in the early-morning hours. The dotted yellow lines clipped by. The tension that had coiled around Ezra’s chest for days loosened up.

  The skyline of Discovery, the tall buildings of the university, came into view. “Where do you folks want to be dropped off?”

  “The police station?” Ezra looked to Clarissa for confirmation.

  Her eye twitched nervously, but she nodded. “Yes, I guess that would be best.”

  Steven pulled the truck over to the curb across from the station and wished them well before driving off.

  As she stared at the police station, Clarissa’s expression clouded and a furrow formed between her eyebrows.

  “Like I said before, this is a good bunch of police officers. Max couldn’t have polluted everyone’s mind with his lies and false accusations.”

  “I hope you’re right.” She looked at Ezra, her voice taking on an anxious tone. “We need to find out if the others made it down the mountain.”

  His thoughts had run in the same direction as they’d drawn closer to town. He would never forgive himself for choosing to split up if the other four didn’t make it out. “We’ll deal with the Max situation first, and then I’ll call my partner and find out if the others showed up.”

  They walked to the curb and waited to cross the street. Clarissa let out a gasp and took two steps back. Fear colored her every word. “It’s him. That’s Don’s car.” She pointed to a rental car parked in front of the police station.

  “Are you sure?” Ezra stared at the car, and at a man with his back to them standing on the lawn outside the police station. The man did look like the one who had chased them over the past few days. “They must have figured we’d show up here after they lost us outside of New Irish.”

  “We can’t go into that police station,” she said.

  He grabbed her wrist. “He’s not going to try anything in broad daylight.” Ezra glanced around. It was still two hours before the shops opened up. The streets were deserted.

  “Please, I can’t go in there.” He’d never seen her this frantic. “You don’t know what that man tried to do to me.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe we’ve come this far...only to have this happen. He’s turning around.” She darted up the street and Ezra followed, careful not to look over his shoulder and give them away.

  Clarissa slowed her pace to a fast walk to keep from calling attention to herself. Ezra pulled her into the first alley they came to.

  “Do you think he saw us?” She still hadn’t calmed down.

  “I don’t know, and I don’t want to wait around to find out. We’ve got to hide somewhere they won’t be expecting us to go.”

  “Do you have a friend we could go to?”

  “No one who lives within walking distance.” He tugged on her sleeve. “Let’s keep moving. We’ll stay off the main streets.”

  They hurried down another alley. “I don’t even see a coffee shop open.”

  “Just keep walking.” The back entrances of the commercial buildings were all dark. They walked past a men’s clothing shop, a diner and an art gallery.

  A man came out on the fire escape above them, and Clarissa jumped. Ezra put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right,” he soothed.

  They stopped for a moment when they heard voices on the main street. Ezra peered around the building. Don stood talking on his phone. Ezra heard only bits and pieces of the conversation, but gathered that Don had seen them and was calling for help in the search. Ezra gazed around, trying to think of what would be open at this hour or where they could hide. If Max’s goons were watching the police station, they were probably also watching his office.

  “It’s only a matter of time before the other three start swarming in,” she said.

  “I say we keep moving,” Ezra said.

  She slipped her hand in his. “Okay, you probably know this town better than I do.”

  “Oh, yeah, how long did you live here?” He thought if he could keep her talking she’d calm down.

  “A little over a year, I guess. I came here with my foster family.”

  “That didn’t work out?”

  “They were nice enough people, but...it’s a long story.”

  “We’ve got time for stories.”

  “It’s not a story I want to tell.” Her tone had become defensive. They hurried past another art gallery.

  “There.” He pointed across the street to a twenty-four hour self-serve laundry. They waited at the light and then crossed. The glass storefront wouldn’t exactly hide them, but at least they wouldn’t be out in the open. As they stepped inside, Ezra glanced up the street. He thought he saw one of the thugs about two blocks away.

  Inside, the air was humid. Two dryers tossed clothes around. A single washing machine chugged away. Whoever had loaded the clothes must have stepped out for a cup of coffee or something.

  Ezra walked over to a bin of clothes that had been left behind. He stared down at his muddy shirt. “We kind of stand out dressed like this.” He grabbed a baseball hat and a blouse from the bin and tossed them to her. Then he rooted around until he found a men’s button-down shirt and cotton jacket that looked as if they might fit him.

  Both of them changed in their respective bathrooms. Clarissa pulled the hat down over her face.

  She sized up Ezra when he came out into the main area. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, obviously not used to having to wear such stiff fabric. “It’s kind of itchy, but what do you think?” he asked earnestly.

  A slight smile graced her face. “I think you feel a little more at home in a worn flannel shirt and jeans.”

  They stepped out the front door. The streets were still mostly deserted. “We need to get somewhere where we can make some calls. I’ve gone fishing with one of the police officers. If I can talk to him directly maybe he can bring us in safely.”

  Clarissa scanned the streets. She took in a breath as though working up the courage to speak. “I think I know where we can go to be safe and make some calls. There’s a place about six blocks from here. It’s called Naomi’s Place. I know the woman who runs it. If it’s still open, she’ll let us in and help us.”

  “I’ve heard of it. It hasn’t closed down,” he said. It was a shelter for pregnant teens. He could only guess at why Clarissa knew about it.

  He surveyed the street again. His eyes grew suddenly wide. He grabbed Clarissa and pulled her around to the side of the building.

  “Did you see one of them?” The stress in her voice revved up a notch.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I did. The four of them and maybe even Max are crawling all over the neighborhood looking for us. I have a plan. Our clothes are different. They’re not going to recognize us from a distance. Two of us together, though, will be a red flag.”

  * * *

  “So you’re saying we split up and meet at Naomi’s Place.” Her heart beat a little faster.

  He nodded. “Are you up to doing that?”

  Fear encroached on every fiber of her being, but she managed to nod. “It shouldn’t take us more than ten minutes to walk there.”

  He kissed her forehead and squeezed her hand. “I’ll see you in ten minutes
then.”

  They walked around to the front of the laundry and took off in different directions. Clarissa peered out from beneath the brim of her hat, surveying the area around her. Zeke stalked up the street across from her, moving in the opposite direction, his red hair easy to spot. She kept her pace even while her heart pounded wildly and sweat snaked down her neck. She pretended to be interested in something she saw in a shop window before moving on toward the light.

  Zeke continued to work his way up the street, peering down alleys and in open shops. When the light turned, she crossed the street. The redheaded thug was two blocks up on the same sidewalk as her. She hurried down a side street. When she was finally out of view, she stopped, pressed her back against a wall and took in a frantic breath.

  She walked briskly the rest of the way, turning down a residential street and breathing a sigh of relief when the converted schoolhouse that was now Naomi’s Place came into view. A whirlwind of memories rushed toward her, some of them good and some painful. Coming here would open the door for Ezra to know about her past. She had chosen Naomi’s Place for a reason. Not only would they be safe there, but it would give her a chance to tell Ezra about all that she had been through. After all he’d done for her, he deserved to know the truth about her past.

  She opened the chain-link gate. There was no sign of Ezra on either side of the street. Her rib cage tightened with fear. She only hoped he had made it without getting caught.

  SEVENTEEN

  Ezra was glad to see Clarissa waiting outside Naomi’s Place as he came around the corner.

  She made her way up the steps, and he joined her.

  “So this is Naomi’s Place. I’ve seen the ads around town,” he said.

  She raised her hand to knock but stopped and looked at him, allowing her arm to drop to her side. “I stayed here when I was a teenager. My foster family kicked me out when they learned I was pregnant, and Naomi took me in. I miscarried. That was probably the saddest day of my life.”