ELIJAH: A Suspense Novel

by Frank Redman

  Jenny said, “What? What is this network?” A touch of scorn in her voice. “Dad never said anything about it. I’ve never heard of it.”

  Neither had I.

  Ray’s voice took on a serious tone. “We’re a group of people with the common goal to help those who have been abused. Men, women, and children. And to make things right. We don’t always play by the book. The government, politicians, law enforcement agencies, they all have laws that regulate how they operate. Some of them pay no heed to these laws, of course. But if we were known to them, our activities would be severely impeded.”

  Ray paused as he concentrated on maneuvering the eighteen-wheeler within unexpected congestion on the highway.

  He continued, “Great timing for that little traffic jam.” He chuckled. “Perfect illustration for what our lives would be like in the Network if we had to deal with bureaucracy and its attempts to deadlock us, all in the name of protecting civil rights for the criminally sane.”

  I said, “What do you mean?”

  “The ACLU and other like-minded groups and activists fight hard to protect the rights of rapists and abusers. Now, by that I don’t mean they specifically target serial rapists and do what they can to keep them free, but they do make concerted efforts to thwart the labors of watchdog groups like the Network. And then, there are the crooked politicians, the crooked law agents, who care more about money than protecting the innocent. Some of these crooks have a lot of influence, and can make decisions or promote laws impacting large numbers of people, all under the guise of making America a better place for the common folk. The end result is rapists get to keep on raping, abusers keep on abusing. It keeps us from doing our work and bringing the criminals to justice. So, we bring justice to them.” Ray smiled at us.

  “I don’t want to say we’re above the law,” he continued. “We’re not. There’s a fine line there. But, I’ll say we bend the law, work around… okay, sometimes we do break the law. But we bring justice. I can own that.”

  He lapsed into a long period of silence, just watching the road as he drove.

  I glanced at Jenny; neither one of us said anything. We just watched the road ahead as well. I felt like this was some type of interview, like an interview for a job. I focused on what Ray just shared with us: the opportunity to bring rapists and abusers to justice.

  I have a passion to help kids… But there is not much I can do on my own. But this group, the Network, would be an outlet for that passion.

  Would I be willing to circumvent the law, even break it to help others?

  Hell yes.

  “I’m in.”

  Both Ray and Jenny looked at me.

  Jenny said, “In what?”

  “The Network. I’m in.”

  Ray chuckled. “Not so fast, Elijah. I appreciate your fervor, but this isn’t a recruiting effort.”

  “Bull crap. You wouldn’t be telling me—” I looked at Jenny “—us, if you didn’t want us to help.”

  Ray stayed silent for another long stretch. In fact, I worried he wouldn’t respond, that I was indeed wrong, and he was just providing a little information. And now wishing he hadn’t said anything to us.

  Finally, Ray said, “This is the part that’s going to blow your mind. Are you ready?” He looked at each of us. “You discovered the evidence Nick had found. He told you to grab that evidence before the enemy took it. You went to Bob’s house; the bad guys were already there. Both Nick and Bob were part of the Network. You escaped from three armed men. And during the escape, you two just happened to drive into the woods on C-Man’s property? Also a member of the Network. There is no such thing as a coincidence. That is divine intervention, my friends.” He looked at both of us again.

  Tyler said, He’s right.

  I glanced at Tyler. I hadn’t considered before whether animals had a belief, or were capable of belief, in God.

  Ray asked, “You follow?”

  I paused to make sure I didn’t miss some hidden message, then answered, “Yes. You’re saying that Jenny and I didn’t end up in Charles’s woods by accident, but that God had orchestrated those events.”

  Ray smiled. “Close. I’m not saying He directed all of the events that led to you driving through his woods. But I am saying it was no accident you ended up there. God has big plans for you two. Big plans.”

  “I don’t consider myself a puppet.” Jenny said. “I am me. I make decisions for myself.”

  “And I agree,” Ray replied. “You’re not a puppet. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be influenced. Tell me this, what were you thinking when you swerved into the woods? Did you think about the possible ramifications, plan the potential outcomes? Or did you ‘just do it’?” Ray made quote signs around the phrase.

  “Well, with something like that, you don’t plan it out. It’s a reaction. We were getting chased. I suddenly thought of that as a possibility for getting away.”

  Ray smiled. “So you think it’s impossible for you to have been influenced to make that decision?”

  Jenny thought for a minute. I mean she actually thought for a full minute. “I didn’t feel anything influencing me. Certainly didn’t feel anything inside my head.”

  “Where did the idea come from? Where do any ideas come from?” Ray spread out his arms as if to imply all of the ideas in the world.

  Jenny said, “I don’t know. They can’t all be from God. Why would he be making decisions for me if he is?”

  Ray smiled. “Something to think about, isn’t it?”

  I said, “This hurts my head.”

  Ray said, “But! Tis so sweet—” Ray sang the words in his deep bass, “—to trust in Jesus; Just to take Him at His Word.”

  The man could sing. Wow.

  “Just to rest upon His Promise. And to know, thus saith the Lord.”

  I clapped.

  Jenny smiled a little. “My mother used to sing that to me when I was a child... Before cancer took her. I loved it when she sang to me. God didn’t make her any promises.”

  Ray’s smile vanished. “Oh, but you’re wrong, dear Jenny. You’re wrong.”

  Her face was expressionless.

  “But methinks now is not the time to talk about it. You and I will have a nice little visit sometime.”

  Wanting to break the awkwardness, I asked Ray, “Can you sing Swing Low, Sweet Chariot? I love the way that song sounds in the lower registers. I like to sing it, but I can’t hit the low notes.”

  “Do you know what that song means, Brother Elijah?”

  “It’s about slavery, right?”

  “Well, it was written during that time, but it’s actually referring to the prophet Elijah’s ascension, when a chariot from Heaven came down and gave him the ride of his life—or end of life.” Ray laughed heartily.

  Jenny and I laughed too. You couldn’t help it. If you heard Ray laugh, you were going to laugh. No choice.

  “Really?” I said. “It’s about Elijah?”

  “That’s right!”

  “Cool.”

  We rode down the highway, Ray singing Swing Low, Sweet Chariot, nailing the low notes, making the cabin rumble as if he were a diesel engine.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  We made it to Denver that night after stopping once for lunch and bathroom breaks. Ray pulled the rig and trailer into a warehouse. A lighted sign outside stated International Distribution and Holding Center.

  Ray powered the driver’s side window down and yelled, “Hi, Honey, I’m home!”

  Some people hurried to the truck and unhooked the trailer after cranking down the legs. We were in a huge, four-story warehouse with tan painted cinder block walls and a concrete roof. The building looked to be about four hundred yards long and another one hundred wide. The length was hard to determine because the entire warehouse was not lit at that time. Our section was very bright and made the grey-painted concrete floor shine. Catwalks ran the length of the building with intersecting pathways. The truck’s idling engine echoed loudly
in the cavernous space. A man gave Ray a thumbs up, then Ray pulled the truck forward and parked it in an open bay.

  Three-story office space overlooked the nearer end of the warehouse. These rooms were topped by a mezzanine with a bright yellow railing.

  Ray, Jenny, and I hopped out of the truck, Tyler jumped.

  Large heaters hung from the ceiling overhead, providing background noise as well as warmth. But it was still chilly. I didn’t know what the outside temperature was, but I imagined it had to be colder here than it was back home. I was wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt—black, of course—but the chill felt good to me.

  Jenny wrapped up in her jacket.

  A half-dozen men and women stood semicircle around us wearing sweatshirts or coats. Some were smiling at us.

  Ray stood next to us, beaming. “Everyone, meet my new friends: my brother Elijah Raven, Jenny Meredith, and Tyler.” He indicated each of us with a hand, and stooped to pat Tyler, who wagged his tail.

  Ray looked at us and spread an arm towards the semicircle, “These are members of the Network.”

  A white man wearing a blue Air Force sweatshirt and cap said, “Are you sure it’s safe to talk about the Network in front of them?” He didn’t seem to be upset, just cautious.

  Ray nodded. “Absolutely. In fact, they are new recruits. At least Brother Elijah is.”

  Jenny stepped forward spontaneously and said, “Oh, I’m in!” Then she stepped back self-consciously, embarrassed. I’d never seen her embarrassed before.

  Ray chuckled. “There you have it. Meet two new recruits.” He smiled at us with genuine pride. He said, “This is Diana Roca, Jason Christian, Chris Fraher, Cheryl Smith, Toby Hinshaw, and Merle Gornick.” They each stepped forward and shook our hands when named.

  Jason was the one wearing the Air Force sweatshirt. He said, “Welcome to the team.”

  I nodded and said, “Thanks.”

  Diana said, “Nice dog.”

  Tyler said, I like her already. You can tell she’s smarter than all the rest. Maybe combined.

  I smiled and tried not to laugh.

  Diana knelt to the floor and cooed Tyler. The big dog immediately went to her, rolled onto his back, and solicited a tummy rub. Diana complied.

  Cheryl was a small black woman and wore a large dark green coat, which looked to be two sizes too big for her. She hugged herself in the big coat and said, “It’s cold out here. How about some hot cocoa?”

  Toby, wearing a black zip-up hoodie, said, “It’s always time for hot cocoa.” Gesturing for us to follow him, he said, “C’mon guys, let’s get inside the office.”

  Ray said, “Toby, why don’t you show Brother Elijah and Jenny the operations.”

  Toby said, “Sure thing.”

  Tyler, still getting a tummy rub from Diana, said, I’ll stay here, thanks.

  I said, “Come on, Tyler, let’s get inside.”

  Tyler sat up partially and said, Really?

  I fought the urge to reply with a yes, instead saying to Diana, “Looks like you have a new friend.”

  She said, “I’ll take him.” But stopped petting him so he would get up.

  “Come on,” I repeated to Tyler.

  Tyler stood and looked at Diana. He said, Thanks. But he knew she couldn’t understand his projected thought.

  But, she nodded as if to say you’re welcome, and as if she did understand him.

  I’ve never known anyone else with my gift. Coincidence? I didn’t know, but I’d have to follow up later. Right now, in front of all of these other people, would not be good. I certainly did not want to reveal my secret to everyone, even if they were in Ray’s Network.

  We followed Toby through a door into the offices.

  We were in a reception area. The space was bright, clean, and modern. Paintings of various forms of transportation hung on the walls. Security cameras watched from two separate corners. We walked through this space to one of two doors. Toby held a card to a badge reader and the door popped open. We followed him down a hallway and were stopped by Ray at an intersection.

  Ray said, “Toby, when you take them to the Slush Pit, ask Jason to show them how—never mind, I’ll ask Jason myself.”

  Jason approached from yet another hallway, his face red and jaw clenched.

  Ray said, “What’s wrong?”

  Jason closed the gap between us before saying anything else, then came to an abrupt stop. He swallowed. “C-Man is dead.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jenny gasped.

  I whispered, “No…”

  Ray said, “Oh Lord,” then leaned against a wall. “Oh Lord…” He buried his head in one massive hand. After a few moments, he looked up and said, “Wilkerson?”

  Jason said, “Correct. Charles missed his last check-in, so Wilks went to investigate. Found him outside the house. They…” Jason took in a deep breath. “They removed his eyes and tied him to a tree, then tied his arms to branches like a mock scarecrow.”

  Ray’s nostrils flared. He balled his hands into gigantic fists. I felt sorry for anyone that ever felt those knuckles. Even if he deserved it. That was the first time I’d seen Ray angry. I was scared.

  He said, “Send a containment team. Try to sanitize the house and property as much as possible. Even if they tortured C-Man, he wouldn’t tell them anything. But they might find something at the property if given enough time.”

  Jason said, “Already done.”

  Ray replied, “Good. Now take Elijah and Jenny to the Slush Pit. Give them the assignment.”

  Jason shook his head as if trying to break an illusion. “What? They haven’t even been trained—”

  Ray interrupted, “I said give them the assignment. Now.” His deep voice echoed in the hallway though he wasn’t yelling.

  Jason looked at him, not in defiance, but in concern. He looked at me, then Jenny.

  Ray said, “I will escort them and watch them. But C-Man sacrificed his life for these two.”

  Tyler said, And me.

  Ray looked at us, then focused back on Jason. “They are in it now whether they like it or not. This is in honor of C-Man.” He looked at me.

  I nodded, though I didn’t really know what I was nodding about. It just felt like the right thing to do.

  Jason said, “Understood. I apologize for doubt—”

  Ray said, “No, you are right to doubt.”

  Jason exhaled slowly, then said to Jenny and me, “Follow me.”

  Toby said, “I will inform the others,” and walked off in another direction.

  Jenny, Tyler, and I followed Jason down the hallway and to some stairs leading down.

  The stairs emptied into another hallway. We were on the basement level. Double doors, open, were to the left. The floor in the room was a couple of steps lower than the hallway. Can spotlights illuminated small sections, while the rest of the space was in relative darkness.

  A large curved desk faced the left corner of the room. A bank of eight monitors, four on top of four, rose from the left side of the desk. There were two chairs at the desk. The right side had several reference manuals and multiple high-tech phones. A large flat panel monitor was positioned about four feet up on the wall to the left. Another large flat panel hung from the ceiling in the right corner. Two spotlights lit up huge floor-to-ceiling maps of the Americas and of Eurasia/Africa/Australia. A small table with chairs was centered in the room. Security cameras were high in the corners by the door.

  Jason said, “This is the Slush Pit, the command center of the Network. It’s similar to a police dispatch.”

  Jenny said, “Why’s it called the Slush Pit?”

  Jason said, “Good question. Seems strange, doesn’t it? Well, there’s no real nice way to explain. A lot of terrible images, scenes, news items come up on these monitors. There are hundreds of news feeds that connect into the Pit as well as Network members connecting who are out on assignment. Considering what we do, who we’re trying to protect, you can imagine it’s almos
t always bad news. Disturbing news. After you’ve taken a shift in the Pit, you feel like you’re emerging from slush, trying to break through the surface. The shifts are always short and there are always at least two people in the room when we’re monitoring. It can get really depressing.”

  Jason paused, and seemed to be trying to think of what to say next. “Well, anyway, we can talk about that later.” He clapped his hands together and rubbed vigorously, as if trying to start a fire. Then he said, “All right! Let’s get started!”

  Jason sat in front of one of the workstations and logged in. He looked back at us over his shoulder and said, “You’re going to like this…” He opened a directory the Network had on Aaron Lynch, dug deeper into the folder and opened multiple windows. He looked at us and gestured with his chin to look at the large screen to the left on the wall, a slight smile on his face. He grouped the separate windows on the smaller screen in front of him, and flicked them with the mouse to the large screen. The separate windows were automatically resized and positioned so that they could all be seen on the large screen.

  “Cool,” I said. “I want one of those.”

  Jenny said, “Yeah… that would be a hot item at the EC.”

  Jason smiled. “This is a custom set up. It costs maybe…” he pursed his lips and tilted his head left and right, “around twenty grand.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Never mind.”

  Jenny said, “Yikes.”

  Jason stood and stepped in front of the large monitor. One of the windows had a picture of Lynch and a short bio and business profile. There were eight satellite images, eight street maps, weather conditions for the different locations, company profiles and business news, personal financial information…

  Jason touched one of the satellite images with his right hand, then used his left hand to drag the corners of the image in opposite directions, expanding the size of the window.