by Sharon Sala
As they were walking out the door, the medic came running into the building with the first aid bag, with Rubin right behind him.
Aaron paused at the doorway. “Tend to her and report her condition back to me. Archangel Rubin, lock up when you leave, and bring Jud with you.”
Then he walked out, knowing they would all obey.
* * *
It was the cold, wet cloth on her face that brought Jordan back to consciousness, and then she heard Jud’s voice, begging her for forgiveness, promising her this wouldn’t happen again. She kept wondering what he was talking about until the pain surfaced, and then she remembered.
She’d suffered the consequences of her rebellion, and they were painful. She opened her eyes and saw that Jud’s were filled with tears. Noticing the bloody washcloth in his hands, she pushed him away.
Another man was coming toward her that she’d never seen. She didn’t know what he was about to do to her, but she wasn’t going to be lying down and helpless when she found out. She struggled to sit up and swung her legs off the bed.
“Wait, Jordan,” Jud said. “He’s a medic. Let him look at you. He won’t hurt you, I promise.”
“I don’t trust your promises,” Jordan said, but when she tried to stand up, the room started spinning around her.
Jud caught her before she fell, and eased her back down on the bed as the medic suddenly loomed above her. Jordan’s heart skipped a beat. She was trapped.
“My name is Archangel David. They told me you fell backward and hit the floor. All I want to do right now is check you out and listen to your heartbeat. Okay?”
She nodded as he helped her sit up again. She held her breath when he reached toward her. She felt his fingers in her hair, and when they came away bloody, she assumed that was why it hurt. He checked her pulse, listened to her heartbeat and then asked her to track his finger as he moved it back and forth across her line of vision.
All the time this was happening, her lips were continuing to swell. She could feel them growing tighter and tighter, until they were so swollen it was hard to talk.
Finally, David straightened up. “I need to feel your nose and your jaw to see if anything is broken. I’m sorry that it will hurt, but I’ll be as gentle as I can, okay?”
Tears had welled in her eyes, but she had yet to cry. She groaned when he began feeling along the edge of her jaw, but when his fingers touched her nose, she gasped. Quick tears from the shock of the pain spilled like water over a dam, rolling down her cheeks in fluid succession.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “One last thing...open your mouth as far as you can so I can check to see where your lips are cut.”
Jud reached for her hand, but she snatched it away.
“Don’t,” she mumbled and then parted her lips.
She was unprepared for the wave of nausea that rolled through her when David gently raised her upper lip, but as he was feeling along the lower one, the room began to spin and then everything went dark.
“Oh my God! What happened?” Jud cried as he caught her from lurching forward, and eased her back down onto the pillow.
“She passed out from the pain,” David said. “Her nose isn’t broken, that I can tell. Her jaw isn’t dislocated, and her lips will heal without stitches. Without medical equipment, I can’t say she didn’t suffer some kind of concussion, but I can say that her pupils are normal and focusing properly. Let’s get her comfortable here,” he added, and together, they stretched her back out on the bed and covered her up. “I have some pain pills I can leave for her to take when she wakes up again. That’s all I can do,” he added.
“And I’m not leaving her unconscious and alone,” Jud said. “So I’m here until they bring the other girls back.”
Archangel Rubin frowned. “The Master said to bring you back with us.”
“You’ll have to fight me to do it,” Jud said and saw the resignation in their eyes as they turned and walked away.
As soon as they were gone, Jud went to get another wet washcloth. He wrung it out, folded it and laid it across her forehead.
Within a few moments, Jordan began to come around again. She opened her eyes to find Jud watching her; he was crying.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “None of this was supposed to happen.”
Jordan wanted him out of her sight and motioned for him to leave.
“I can’t. I’m locked in here with you until they bring the girls back from supper.”
“Hate you,” she mumbled and then winced from the pain of talking.
He took the washcloth from her forehead, poured some water on it from the bottle on her supper tray and handed it to her.
“Put it on your lips. Maybe it will help the pain.”
She knocked it out of his hand, then staggered to her feet and disappeared into the bathroom.
Jud shuddered as he wiped the tears off his face.
“God forgive me,” he muttered, then got up and walked to one of the windows.
Looking through the steel screens over the windows, he realized it was the first time he was seeing the compound from their viewpoint. It reminded him of a picture he’d seen once of a concentration camp. Whatever blinders he’d been wearing about Fourth Dimension and their grand plans were gone. He’d been so wrapped up in finding a tribe of people with the same skills he’d been born with that he’d lost touch with reality, and the damage he’d done was irreparable. The scary part was not knowing how to save her without getting them both killed.
Jordan came back carrying a bottle of water she’d gotten from the refrigerator. She sat down on the side of her bed without looking at him, but when she tried to take a drink the water dribbled from both sides of her mouth and down onto her shirt. She looked down at all the blood, but it wasn’t nearly as scary as the blood she’d found between her legs.
“Go pick out your baby bride, Jud. I started my period.”
* * *
Wyrick began shedding clothes as she entered her apartment. She wanted every aspect of that prison vibe washed from her body, and went straight to the shower.
Afterward, she packed a bag with some clothes, then another with her computers, before digging around for something to eat. She put a frozen pizza in the oven, and while she was waiting for it to bake, she went back to a coat closet in the hall and rummaged through it until she found the box she was looking for.
She opened it to make sure everything was still in there, then lifted out what appeared to be a small model plane made of clear plastic. There was a box inside it where the little engine was housed, and the remote that controlled it was still in the box. She took out the solar cells she used to power it and tested them. They were still good to go.
Then she sat down to check on a search she’d been running on Fourth Dimension while she was gone. There were more than a dozen mentions of it from several psychic sites, so she poured some Pepsi into an ice-filled glass and began to read through them while she waited.
The scent of melting mozzarella and spicy pepperoni filled the small apartment, aggravating Wyrick’s hunger pangs. She was beginning to fidget when the timer finally went off. She wasted no time getting it out of the oven, cutting it up and sliding a couple of slices onto her plate. She topped off her Pepsi again, grabbed a handful of paper towels and went back to her laptop. She ate as she scrolled through more comments, wiping her fingers between bites so she wouldn’t get the grease all over the keys.
What she did learn was that Fourth Dimension had taken on a cult following, and there were legions of so-called psychics wanting to find a way into the group, but there was no info to aid in their case.
She finished off her second pizza slice and was looking through her stash of chocolate for a Hershey’s bar when her laptop signaled new information on her search engine with a robotic voice saying, “Ding-dong, Avon calling.”
&nb
sp; She shoved aside a package of M&Ms and a Snickers bar before she found the bar she wanted, and began unwrapping it as she headed back to the laptop. She popped a couple of squares in her mouth and then checked the search engine for the new hit.
Chocolate was melting on her tongue as she read, and she was going back for another piece of candy when it dawned on her what she was reading.
“Oh shit,” Wyrick said and hacked into a couple of websites that, on a normal day, would have landed her in a federal prison along with the likes of Peter Long.
By the time the candy bar was gone, she had all she needed to know. She put the leftover pizza in the fridge, loaded her dirty dishes in the dishwasher and started it, then ran to her bedroom and got dressed. After sending Charlie a text, she began repacking her little plane and the solar cells, and carried everything to the car. He responded just as she was getting in behind the wheel.
* * *
Charlie made two trips down to the basement of his apartment building to get his camping equipment from the storage locker, then checked it all out thoroughly to make sure nothing was missing, before getting it back up the elevator and into his Jeep. He made one last trip down for a box of MREs and loaded them up, as well, before setting the security alarm on his Jeep and going back to his apartment. He had clothes to pack and the first aid kit to replenish, but his belly was complaining about a lack of food.
He ordered a smoked brisket sandwich and some fries, and then went to pack. By the time the food came he was through packing and had the first aid kit ready to go.
He poured sweet tea from a jug into a glass full of ice and sat down with his food. He paused long enough as he was eating to send a text to Morning Light, letting them know he was going to be out of state on a case, but would be available by phone.
He was finishing off his tea when he got a text from Wyrick.
Are you packed?
He responded. Yes. Why?
I’m on my way over. We need to leave now. I’ll explain later.
Charlie frowned. He’d never doubted her before, and this was no time to begin.
You flew us home. I’ll drive the first shift.
He got a thumbs-up emoji, then disconnected, dumped his trash and went to change clothes, while Wyrick was pushing the speed limits to get to his apartment building.
She kept thinking of what she’d learned and how it might pertain to Jordan Bien. She kept thinking of David Koresh, the leader of the cult in Waco, Texas, and of Jim Jones and Jonestown in Guyana. Both men had been willing to sacrifice their followers rather than go to jail.
As an adult, getting involved in a cult was on them, but when children were involved, they were innocent pawns to the adults who controlled their lives. Aaron Walters and his Fourth Dimension followers were all adults, but it was the children they’d abducted who were unable to help themselves.
It was nearing 7:00 p.m. when Wyrick reached Charlie’s apartment building and turned into the entrance to the parking garage, then drove up to the fourteenth level. She parked beside his Jeep and sent him a text.
I’m here.
A couple of minutes later, he responded.
On my way.
Wyrick stayed inside her Mercedes until she saw him coming out of the building, then got out and began grabbing her things.
Charlie glanced at her choice of clothing as he unlocked the Jeep. The blue skinny-leg jeans accentuated her long legs, and the black T-shirt and blue jean jacket would have been commonplace on anyone else. But for her, it was flying under the radar. As soon as they stowed her things, they got in the Jeep and began buckling up.
“What the hell’s going on?” he asked, as he backed out of the parking spot.
“There’s an FBI presence near the compound,” she said.
Charlie flinched. “I’m not going to ask how you know this. What’s the panic? Are they planning a raid?”
“I don’t know. But there are agents from Dallas who will be boarding a plane tomorrow morning and heading to Kentucky, as well.”
“I don’t like the sound of that. Did you get any intel about why?”
“Not yet, but something’s happening. From what I could determine, Fourth Dimension has been on their radar for a while as a possible site for human trafficking. There are a lot of children there, but they have no concrete proof beyond a few satellite images of some little girls being moved en masse from one building to another, and some images of what they view as older girls holding babies. Just no adult women.”
Charlie frowned. “Well, we know what’s happening there, but does the FBI? According to what the warden said at the prison, Long didn’t talk to anyone about the cult, ever. I wonder what set them off?”
Wyrick shrugged. “Maybe someone tipped them off. Maybe Tara Bien’s story got out within the justice system. It’s not like she was hiding her daughter’s disappearance. She’d notified Jordan’s school, and if everyone in the law office where she works knows about it, too, then people talk.”
“Call her,” Charlie said. “Find out who else she’s talked to about this.” He then accelerated out of the parking garage and headed for the freeway. “Just don’t let on that she might have triggered something that could get her daughter killed.”
Eleven
Wyrick pulled up Tara’s phone number and called, then put it on speaker phone so Charlie could hear. She waited impatiently as it rang over and over, and just when she thought it was going to voice mail, Tara answered. She sounded panicked and breathless.
“Hello?”
“Tara, this is Wyrick from Dodge Security and Investigations. I have a couple of questions to ask.”
“Sorry it took so long for me to get to the phone. I was in the shower.”
“We need to know how many people in your circle are aware of what happened to your daughter, and who they are.”
“Oh my God. Is there bad news?”
Wyrick asked again. “No, but who all have you told?”
“Jordan’s school, of course. I told you that in the interview. I also spoke directly to my boss and one of my coworkers about it, but I’d guess everyone at the law office would know now, because they’ve all stepped up to fill in for me in court.”
“Are they talking about it to other people, or did you tell them in confidence?” Wyrick asked.
Tara gasped. “I didn’t ask them not to tell. I didn’t think. Was that wrong?”
“No, no, nothing like that. We’re just following up on some information we have on the FBI, and were curious if you’d contacted them for help, as well.”
“Oh! I didn’t do that directly, but my coworker Eric Prince has a brother-in-law who’s in the FBI at the Dallas office. He said he was going to talk to him about it and see if he could offer me any other advice. I haven’t heard back from him.”
“Okay, no problem. By any chance, did you mention Fourth Dimension when you were talking to them?” Wyrick asked.
“Yes, and it was embarrassing. I never told anyone at work that Jud claimed to be a psychic. They both looked at me weird.”
“I know all about weird looks,” Wyrick said. “I don’t have the file in front of me right now, so tell me again the name of the law firm for which you work.”
“Richter and Sons,” Tara said. “Should I ask Eric about his brother-in-law?”
“No, that’s fine, and thank you,” Wyrick said.
Tara groaned. “Can you tell me anything? Do you have leads? Do you have any idea where she’s being held?”
Wyrick glanced at Charlie, who promptly shook his head.
“Not really. It’s all still supposition, but we’re following up a lead as we speak. We’ll be in touch,” Wyrick said.
“Yes, okay,” Tara said, and then her voice broke. “I’m so scared for her. Please, please find her for me.”
“We’re doing e
verything we can,” Wyrick said and disconnected, then glanced at Charlie.
“I’m guessing the Feds have always had an eye on Fourth Dimension,” Charlie said. “Cults don’t fly under the radar for long with them, and Tara’s request for help might have triggered something they needed to know.”
Wyrick frowned. “My first thought was the FBI raid at Waco, and David Koresh’s willingness to kill everyone, including himself.”
“How many hours to where we’re headed?” Charlie asked.
“With no delays, a little over fourteen hours, give or take. We’ll switch drivers around midnight,” Wyrick said.
“I can drive it straight through,” Charlie said.
“And then be too tired to function when we get there? I don’t think so,” Wyrick said. “If I can fly thousands of feet up in the sky at night and still find cities on the ground below, I can follow road signs right in front of me.”
“Point made,” Charlie said and headed for the nearest exit to eastbound Interstate 40.
* * *
Tara Bien was in a bathrobe and on the phone, waiting for Eric Prince to answer her call. Just when she thought the call was going to go to voice mail, he finally answered.
“Hello, Eric speaking.”
“Eric, this is Tara Bien. Sorry to call you at home, but I need to ask you something.”
“Oh, hi, Tara. Sure, no problem. Do you have any news?”
“Not yet, but I wanted to check back in with you about your brother-in-law. Did he have any specific advice to share?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I should have called you back after our dinner that evening. I told Hank everything you told us, from the shared parental custody, to that cult...Fourth Dimension. His name is Hank Raines, by the way, and when I mentioned that cult, he got very interested. I assumed that place was already on their radar, but all he said was, if they knew anything specific, he’d let me know, and I never heard back.”