Robynn Carr

by The Hero

  Ahead were the flashing lights of a patrol car.

  “Do not turn around,” Rawley said sharply. “Pull up to the copper. Ask him why the road is closed. Tell him you’re just taking a shortcut to Canyonville where your folks have a farm. Let the copper turn you around. You turn yourself around they’ll be after you that fast.”

  And Cooper did just that, pulled right up to the officer and put down his window. “What’s happening? Accident?”

  “Where you headed, sir?”

  “My folks have a spread near Canyonville. I been taking this shortcut for years. Can I get through?”

  “Road’s closed, I’m afraid.” He peered into the car. “I better have a look at your driver’s license and registration.”

  “You bet,” Cooper said, fishing for those things in the glove box and his back pocket.

  The patrolman shone a flashlight on those items while he asked, “What takes you to your folks just now?”

  “Hunting, what else? We get there tonight, start up first light.”

  He looked into the backseat. “You hunt, little lady?”

  Devon laughed. “Please. I cook!”

  “I like that,” he said. Another patrol car pulled up behind them. “Get outta here,” he said. “Road’s closed.”

  Then Cooper took his turn and headed back in the opposite direction.

  “Now what?” Devon asked.

  “Now we go upstream and head down the river. I hope you swim.”

  “Like a beaver,” she said. “If they find out what we’re doing, will we be in trouble?” she asked Rawley.

  He laughed. “Trouble? I reckon we’ll prolly go straight to jail.”

  Eighteen

  Laine spent a couple of days at Jacob’s house, in and out of her bonds. Jacob gave her water and he brought her back a small plate of food from the house now and then. It was hard to stay in character as a meek and submissive female while he kept her tied, and when he did talk to her he ranted angrily about how he knew she had betrayed him, had betrayed them all.

  Of course he didn’t know the truth. She hadn’t confessed to a thing.

  Laine slept upright in the straight-back kitchen chair, testing her binding, trying to scoot to the counter to see if she could reach into a kitchen drawer to get something that would cut her ropes. When he came home from the big house after dinner to find she had moved, he gave her a black eye and split lip and then lectured her for an hour on his plan for his Fellowship and the conspirators who would strip them of their bounty, leave them homeless and poor. Everyone who wasn’t with them was against them.

  And then he came back after what she presumed was his dinner at the house, except he had Mercy with him. She gasped when she saw him and said, “Is Devon back?”

  “I’m finished with Devon, but this is my daughter and she stays with me. If I untie you and take you to the house with the other women, will you stay? Or will you just run?”

  Her mind raced. What had he done with Devon? Had he hurt her, perhaps killed her to kidnap this child? Because, as she knew, her former friend Devon would not have given up Mercy, not at the point of a knife. “Why would I run?” she asked him. “You’ll just catch me and bring me back. I’ll take Mercy to the house, see she’s fed and put to bed and I’ll—”

  He laughed at her. He grinned and said, “I wouldn’t put that kind of pressure on you.” He untied her and said, “Come with us, Sister Laine. We’ll take you to the house—you can help the women with the children. I’ll keep Mercy with me.”

  “I’ll take care of her, Jacob. I’m sure you have too much to do to take care of her. She needs to be with the children.”

  “I guess you really do think I’m an idiot. Stand up.”

  She stood from the chair and turned to face him.

  “Mercy, I want you to sit at the table here until I get back. Don’t move, don’t leave the table for any reason or I will be very angry with you. Do you understand?” The child looked up at him fearfully and nodded. Laine noted that the children were not ordinarily afraid of Jacob, but perhaps whatever act he had committed to gain the custody of this child had filled her with fear. And then he said to Laine, “Let’s go.”

  He held the door for her and she preceded him out of the house, walking toward the bridge. She was almost there when he said, “Sister Laine, you really don’t have anything I want anymore. Why don’t you just leave now?”

  She slowly turned toward him. “How am I to leave? The gate is locked.”

  He gave her a patient smile. “Then I suppose you should find a way. You’ve found other ways. Maybe you left a hole in the fence somewhere. If you can get out, you can run down the road—the police have blocked the road. You can just run to them—they’ll take you in.”

  “Jacob, why don’t you just ask them what they want? It can’t be anything so terrible. You always took good care of your family, you always—”

  “They’ll take all of this if I let them in,” he said, gesturing around. “And I won’t leave a single thing for them to take! And when they take me down, they’ll be forced to show the world my work. Good work. Thousands of pages of brilliant work inspired by my beliefs.”

  And suddenly she feared the worst. If he didn’t escape, he would be on a suicide mission. She had known for months it was possible he was a thundering lunatic and might do something desperate, but she wasn’t sure what...or how. “Jacob, where are the men?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Yes, where are the men? Well,” he said, turning his head right and left as if looking for them. “Where are they?” he asked facetiously. “Not with me. And if they’re not with me, then they’re against me.” And with that he left her there and went back toward his house.

  So this would be it, she thought. It was going down. She ran for the house and burst into the kitchen where Charlotte and Pilly were cooking. Liam was in his high chair and four-year-old Abe was sitting at the long table. The room looked strangely forlorn, one small boy sitting at a table that could comfortably seat twenty to twenty-four. Jacob’s dynasty; Jacob’s legacy, down to two women, two small children and one undercover FBI agent. She was panting. Charlotte and Pilly looked at her in shock. It could have been their surprise at seeing her or maybe surprise at the condition of her face. “Jacob kidnapped Mercy. I don’t know what he might’ve done to Devon. He’s keeping Mercy at his house. He’s talking crazy. He says the police have blocked the road and he’s not giving up his home, this home. He’s talking about his legacy if they take him down. You have to get the kids out of here.”

  Charlotte put a hand over her mouth but Pilly looked enraged. “I won’t leave Jacob,” she said. “He needs me!”

  “Needs you?” Laine said. “Did he even tell you he had Mercy? Do you even know what he’s planning? Pilly, I’m afraid for you and Liam!”

  “I’ll leave if he tells me to go,” she said indignantly. “But he won’t!” And leaving the pan she was stirring on the fire, she stormed out of the kitchen through the back door, headed for Jacob’s house across the river.

  Laine looked at Charlotte. “Take the children, Charlotte. I’ll show you the way out—follow the road to the police. Jacob said they’re blocking the road.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to try to get Mercy out of his house. I don’t know how, but I’m going to try. If Pilly won’t take Liam, if she risks her life and her son’s to stand by Jacob in his craziest hour, we have to get the kids out of here.” She pulled Liam out of his high chair. “Charlotte, if you don’t do this, bad things are going to happen. Now come with me. Come!”

  Laine didn’t have wire cutters or tools or weapons, but even though she felt dangerously alone in here, she did have partners. She would walk along the fence with Charlotte from the front of the fence line to the river, kicking and shaking the fence as she went, and she would undoubtedly find a break in the fence for an emergency getaway.

  “How do you know this?” Charlotte asked her.


  And Laine gave the standard response. “Because I was going to go, but Jacob held me captive in his house and I couldn’t leave!”

  They left the house from the front door so neither Jacob nor Pilly would see them if they were coming. They were just beginning their trek along the fence, partially concealed by the trees and bushes, when there was a smell. A pungent and thick smell. Laine knew what it was. “Holy mother of God,” she said, holding Liam against her and running along the fence. “Hurry! He’s burning everything down!”

  They were almost to the river before Laine found a break in the fence. She held it open for Charlotte and handed Liam to her. “Go through the woods and pasture to the road. He’s burning the warehouses and he’ll probably burn everything and if you’re here, you’re in terrible danger. Take the baby, hang on to Abe. Just go!”

  “What will you do? Will you be safe?”

  “I’m going to try to get Mercy. Don’t worry about me right now, just go quickly. And when you get to the police, tell them who’s left here!”

  “Jacob will send the men after us!”

  “Charlotte,” she said gravely. “The men are gone.”

  * * *

  Rawley told Cooper where to park in a small stand of trees near the river. He lit out at a pretty fast clip along the riverbank. He had his knife strapped to his waist and anchored to his thigh and he carried a rifle.

  “Rawley, how far?” Devon asked.

  “I’m not sure, chickadee. Just stay on my tail and don’t slip. If I have to fish you out, it costs time.”

  “The odometer said it was six miles,” she pointed out.

  “By road. The river is a straight shot.” Then he stopped, listened, sniffed the air. Everyone came to a standstill behind him—first Devon, then Spencer, then Cooper.

  “What is it?” Devon asked.

  “Might be burning green cannabis,” he said. Then he put his head down and said, “Step it up. This just keeps getting worse.” And he began to jog along the riverbank.

  * * *

  Laine could see that a fire had been started inside one of the warehouses; smoke was pouring out through cracks in the roof and doors. Any minute the thing would combust and the outer shell would go up in flames. The whole forest could be at risk, but certainly Jacob’s house, the bunkhouse and the other warehouse.

  Laine ran past the burning warehouse to the bunkhouse and tried the door, only to find it locked. She assumed weapons must be stored inside, but she couldn’t get in. She reared back and gave the door a furious kick, but it didn’t budge. There was only an old blue pickup near the bunkhouse and now she could see one lone black SUV parked behind Jacob’s house. The rear hatch was open and it looked as if Jacob might be loading up his belongings.

  And between them, an ax sitting beside a stack of firewood.

  She picked up the ax and ran toward the house. She softly opened the front door to the house and heard voices within, slightly muffled but she thought she could make out at least some of the words—“No, take that box while I fill this suitcase.”

  “What about that?”

  “I’ll take care of that. Hurry—there won’t be much time now.”

  “Where will we go?”

  “Doesn’t matter, just that we leave before they get here.”

  It was Pilly and Jacob, with no sound from Mercy. Ax in hand, she followed the sounds and peeked into a room to find the two of them in the back of the house, a room she’d never seen before. It appeared to be Jacob’s office. She dared to peek in the door and what she saw was surreal—Jacob and Pilly were loading boxes full of stacks of papers—it looked suspiciously like manuscripts. His brilliant opus; his manifesto. And from an open safe he was stacking what had to be tens of thousands of dollars in bills into suitcases.

  But of course. If he’d been selling his “medicinal herbs” he was operating a completely cash business. He wouldn’t have had the luxury of making deposits into a bank—his illegal operation would be exposed. Law enforcement always followed the money in search for clues and suspects.

  She crept through the house, beginning with the kitchen where she had last seen Mercy sitting at the table, but she wasn’t there. She looked in the living room, in the bedroom, searched in vain for a cellar door, but the child was not there. Laine felt a rising panic. She had some theories about Jacob but in reality she wasn’t sure how sick or crazy he was. Would he keep Mercy as some kind of hostage? Would he just kill her out of spite? And what of Pilly? Was she that bonded with Jacob that she’d leave her baby behind in a compound in flames just to be with him?

  When all else had failed, she went to the doorway of the office where the frantic packing up was happening and stood there, ax hefted in two hands.

  “Where is she?” Laine asked in her most threatening voice.

  Pilly gasped, but Jacob turned toward her with a controlled expression on his face. He was composed. And then it happened so quickly, Laine never saw it coming. He picked up a gun from the top of his desk, a handgun that looked like a Smith & Wesson .40 caliber, turned it on her and fired. He hit her in the upper right chest with a force so powerful it blew her out of the doorway and knocked the ax out of her grip. Laine whirled around and backed up against the hallway wall, leaving a large smear of blood on the wall.

  Willing herself not to fall, Laine hurried down the hall toward escape, leaving a trail of blood behind her.

  “Jacob, go get her!” Pilly yelled.

  “She’s too late,” he said. “She can’t get out. She’ll just die out there. Get this in the suitcase. Hurry. We have only minutes.”

  She’s too late, Laine thought. And she ran from the house, around to the back where the SUV sat with its tailgate open. It was her intention to disable it—maybe she’d pull out a bunch of wires and close it down. She pulled open the driver’s door to pop the hood and glancing into the backseat, there was Mercy, lying there on the seat, sleeping.

  Laine had but one usable arm. She opened the rear door and pulled Mercy toward her with one hand, terrified that the worst might’ve befallen the little girl. “Come on, sunshine, come on,” she cooed, jostling the little girl. And thank God, Mercy opened her eyes and sat up. “Come, angel, we have to hurry. Come with me now.” Laine’s shoulder was injured and bleeding profusely; she held that arm tight against her body and with the other, she scooped Mercy out of the SUV and lowered her to her feet. “You have to help me, angel. You have to run with me.”

  “Mama?” she asked, her voice laced with tears.

  “I’m taking you to her right now. Come with me.”

  Jacob might not bother too much with Laine, feeling he’d done enough damage to slow her down, but he was going to be enraged when he saw that Mercy was gone. Knowing this, Laine pulled Mercy by the hand in the opposite direction from whence she came, around the front of the house and toward the bridge, but after she crossed it, she huddled in the darkness beneath it at the river’s edge. The rushing water would muffle any sounds they made should Mercy start to cry.

  “Not a sound,” she cautioned Mercy. “We have to hide here now, long enough for him to leave and then I can take you to your mama....” If she lasted that long. She was growing weak and a little dizzy. She shivered; the wet and night air were only making things worse. She tried to keep Mercy above the water, dry as possible, but poor Mercy shook with the cold. But little Mercy was so brave, burying her face in Laine’s neck. It seemed a long time before she heard him roar in outrage, screaming Mercy’s name. Then the SUV came to life, the headlights shining.

  Laine heard a couple of gunshots, and with Jacob in the truck she wondered if they were under attack. She consoled herself that if he tried to escape out of the front of the compound, law enforcement would surely stop him before he got far. She waited tensely for the sound of that big SUV to rattle across the bridge, but it didn’t come. She heard the engine, then heard it traveling away and she took a peek and saw something unreal. He was driving right down the river.... She s
hook her head in confusion, standing up to peek over the bridge and yes, he was driving down the river. There must be some back road out of here, totally concealed and blocked by the forest. The right jacked-up SUV could travel down the rocky river in the shallow parts, then exit the river to a road that Laine had never been aware of and she’d poked around as much as possible.

  He was going to get away.

  Shaking almost too much to stand up, Laine pushed them to the shore beyond the bridge, pulling Mercy with her. “Come, little angel, we have to hurry away...” But she could barely move. She was on her knees, trying to stand. Mercy was on her feet and Laine tried to push up with her one good arm, but fell to her knees. Her only rational thought was, Shit, I’m going to die from a damn bullet to the shoulder. Mercy was crying and Laine was literally crawling. Even if she had to crawl to the break in the fence, she was going to get Mercy out of this compound and as close as possible to the police barricade.

  And then she was aware of footfalls, heavy thuds, running toward her. She glanced up to see a man in a dark ball cap and dark shirt with dirt on his face running toward her. He was carrying a gun and she did what came naturally—she pulled Mercy down to the ground and covered her with her body. And there were more sounds of running coming at her.

  As she was being lifted off Mercy, Laine struggled and fought, but it only caused her shoulder to scream in pain, matching the screaming that came from her throat. “No! No! Let the child be, leave her alone! No!”

  “Easy there, young lady, easy—you’re hurt,” the man said.

  And then a woman’s voice cried, “Mercy!”

  “Mama!”

  Laine looked up through blurry vision and saw Devon standing over her. And then she passed out.

  * * *

  “We better move out of here fast,” Rawley said. “I don’t know what threat we got in here, so best slink around the back side of that house up there. One thing is for sure—we’re gonna have us one big goddamn fire here pretty soon. We have to go out the fence and through the woods and to the road, see if we can meet up with that nice copper again.” He pulled a large handheld bolt cutter off his belt and handed it to Cooper. “Stay to the shadows, Coop. Get us the hell out of here. This here girl is hurt.”