Unsteady

by Elizabeth York

  “It’s a CSX – I think its one of the retirees,” I answered as I looked up at the black front end of the train when we went into a curve in the line. “The SD70M.”

  “That’s four thousand horse power inside a sixteen-cylinder engine. If you are moving at medium speed I would put you somewhere outside of Vegas on the ghost line,” Avery told us both.

  “How do you know that?” Logan asked in the background.

  “I know everything,” Avery responded.

  “London, what do you see outside?” Logan asked and I sniffled.

  “Sand and dirt and what looks like a cross made out of stones in the distance,” I whispered as the men took more trash bags and towels to the back car.

  “I know where she is,” Logan exclaimed. “Hang on baby, I am coming to get you,” he excitedly told me. I nearly cried in relief that someone out there knew where I was because my time here was running out.

  “How do you know?” Brooklyn asked.

  “I’m a pilot. I know my navigation in the air and on the ground. She has to be near the railroad tracks that go near Ardeoma’s Chapel. The church burned a few years ago and the people built a cross out of stones all over the country in honor of those who died. The cross stands out in the middle of nothing, so its something I look for it on every trip to Phoenix because it reminds me of home.”

  “London,” Michael stepped back inside the car and took my arm that still had a light marking from his original bruise he left on me when he drug me off the plane. He forced me out of my seat, and pulled me into the other car that had handcuffs attached to the rails.

  There was blood they were washing off the old iron floors. I saw four cages and inside each was a person who looked like they were barely hanging on. One woman sat curled up against the bars as she quietly begged to die. My job was to save people like her. I had to. I couldn’t let him kill me and leave these people defenseless.

  “Michael, let me pray,” I asked and he nodded.

  “Silly girls and their beliefs,” he scoffed as he walked across the car and three men waited for me to finish. I dropped to my knees and put my hands together.

  “Avery, turn this off. None of you will hear what is going to happen,” I whispered.

  “Wait,” Logan broke through my sobs. “London, you hold on because I am coming for you. You hold on for me.”

  “I love you,” I whispered.

  “You’re not alone in this. You have never been alone because you always have a piece of me with you. Go to a happy place in your mind and I will see you soon, okay?” Logan asked, but before I could answer the line went dead.

  “You’re done,” Michael seemed annoyed. “Cuff her,” he ordered, and a man pulled me up by my hair and forced my arms up. “She has a good high kick you will need to lock her legs down as well,” Michael ordered.

  “Boss she has a scar,” the man pointed out the scar in the shape of a flower on my back.

  “Who did that?” Michael asked, but I didn’t answer. “I heard a rumor about a missing daughter who was taken by the flower queen. You wouldn’t happen to speak Russian because your daddy does, would you?” I didn’t answer, and his face turned red in fury. I braced for impact as his fist balled up and then impacted the side of my head as everything went dark.

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  London - A voice from the past

  I stared at the pregnancy test that shined a pink plus sign in the little window. I technically was an adult even if I didn’t feel like one, but telling Logan would put in him in a position to once again be in harms way.

  “Aunt Hillary,” I called her into the bedroom she had brought me home to. She came into the room with her raven hair brushing her shoulders and blue eyes that resembled lapas lazuli. She looked similar to my mother, but she proved over and over again that out of all the people in my family my mother was one of the better ones.

  I handed her the pregnancy test and looked to her for some words of comfort, but instead I got hit across the face.

  “You were told to stay away from that boy, but you seemed to have brought a piece of him with you,” she sneered as I held my cheek. “Although this could increase the money that I’m getting to keep you away from him.”

  She smirked and took the stick, walked out the door, and once more I was left locked in a room inside a family home I didn’t belong in. I curled up on the bed and cried harder than I ever had. With questions I couldn’t answer.

  What would happen to my baby?

  Would I ever be able to walk away?

  How would I raise it in this house?

  Would Brooklyn take us in if I called her?

  “London,” Hillary flung my door open the next day with that gleam in her eye that said she wasn’t done taking out her aggression on me. “Get dressed I’m going to take you to get an ultrasound in a few hours. We’ll need proof to get the pay out.”

  Then the door slammed shut.

  I forced myself to get up and put on my clothes as everything seemed to change with the hand of the clocks movement. Each move made me realize it was no longer about me. It was about my child, and the lengths I would go to in order to protect it from people like Aunt Hillary.

  I packed everything I thought I would need into my purse. Then we went to an office where Hillary paid an envelope full of money to a man who put me on a table and did an ultrasound. I was approximately two to three months along according to the man taking the pictures. This was my baby. An angel formed from two broken hearts the night we said goodbye.

  As he took a ton of pictures and printed them out I watched him click the buttons on the keyboard. When he left the room I pushed the same and a duplicate picture printed out. I stared at my son or daughter and then I looked out the window and the drop below. I had looked down this same distance before, but without Logan waiting for me below to catch me I would never make it.

  I opened up everything in the room and found that if I sucked in my breath and folded myself just right I could fit where they put the gowns, so I did just that. I broke a tongue depressor and held it as if I was going to use it to stake a vampire in the heart.

  Panic and loud voices soon filled the office where I had left the window open. Hillary thought I was gone. As much as it hurt I didn’t budge from the cabinet until I was sure the moon was high in the sky and no one would be there.

  I escaped and went into the doctors office. Luckily, he had all his credit cards saved and I was able to book a ticket to London. I needed to go back for Logan. This was no longer about photos of kids having sex. This wasn’t about his dad being embarrassed or my dad being a criminal. This was the beginning of the life we never planned for, but one I wanted more than anything else.

  The next evening, I arrived at my school and was greeted with open arms by Sister Katherine.

  “I am so happy to see you,” she embraced me as tears filled my eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m pregnant,” I explained without hesitation. She held onto me a little tighter and we both just clung to each other as if we were afraid to let go. “I came to tell Logan.”

  “Child, he’s not here. He left after you did,” she rasped out as her hand went to my stomach.

  “Can you get him here?” I asked and she nodded. “I don’t care what the repercussions are I want to be the one to tell him. No matter what happens no one tells him but me,” I made her swear.

  “What are you afraid of?” Sister Katherine asked and I just shook my head. “You can stay here if you need to.”

  I nodded and spent the next three days with her as if no time had lapsed. She welcomed me and the baby into the school. The church took in donations and got me maternity clothes because I couldn’t hide it forever. I read books to the smaller kids in the afternoons, and pretended I was reading just for the baby inside me.

  “Logan is out in the garden with Father David,” Sister Katherine whispered as I turned the page for the kids listening to the story. Father Ryan had passe
d away just before I arrived so she used that as an excuse to go get Logan and bring him back. They made him a pall bearer.

  I finished the story about the little puppy who found his way home after getting lost. I walked through the school as my nerves set in about seeing him again. I decided not to go straight out the back door and instead I would go out the side and see him before he saw me. It would help me prepare what I wanted to say.

  I opened the door to be greeted with an angry face of Hillary.

  “I knew you were the reason that boy came back here,” her words dripped with disdain. She didn’t want to deal with me, but she refused to let me go. This was my purgatory. My heart, my life, my everything was just feet away and the knife in her hand against my stomach said if I called out to him it would be the end of me and my baby.

  “I’m going to teach you a lesson about running off,” she angrily jerked me out of the school and across the field. Sister Katherine dropped her basket of apples as she saw me fall. Hillary grabbed my hair and drug me to a waiting car. Sister Katherine started to run after me, but there was nothing anyone could do.

  Hillary had been hiding me from my dad and from Logan’s dad George. She kept me out of sight so no one could find me. Only problem was she blamed me for everything and got physical about it. I endured it and didn’t fight back because I knew the first person she would call would be my dad, and then George. Bringing in two demons to smite the angel and I wouldn’t stand a chance.

  Hillary kept me in one of Logan’s dad’s houses. He would come to visit me and explain that the baby would be put up for adoption if I even survived the pregnancy. Then I was tortured. Hillary wanted to make sure I wouldn’t ever forget not to run away again. So, she carved a forget me not flower into the small of my back. When it bled too much or I passed out from the agony she would put an iron on me to burn the flesh to close it up. Then the next day we would do it all over again.

  She told me it would ensure my obedience because not only would I stay with her, but I would never run to Logan again. After all, who would want a scarred up woman? Who would want me after she was done with me?

  George would bring in food and medical supplies a few times each month while he did his own abuse by crucifying me mentally and drilling it into my head that I was never going to be good enough for his son. That even if I tried to get him back the lies I told were perfect because they would lead him to believe the baby wasn’t his. George would laugh and tell me his son would never stay with a whore, and his grandchild would never survive if he or she turned out to be anything like my father.

  After a few consecutive days of excessive trauma from the two of them. I was too weak to fight. If I hadn’t of had my baby in my body depending on me I would have taken my own life. I would have given up, but as my stomach started to swell even more I was given hope. When I thought about my evening outings with Logan they played in my head as a romantic movie and I found reason to be strong.

  “London,” a familiar voice called out as I laid strapped to a table because they had carved me up once more this morning. “Oh my,” she was speechless as her iron cross fell into my view and I started to sob.

  “Sister Katherine,” I cried and she pulled a bobby pin from under her head piece and picked at the handcuffs that kept me to the table. “How did you find me?”

  “I followed George when I saw him at the pharmacy, but don’t worry child, God will always show me the way to you when you need me,” she finally got the handcuffs open as floors creaked above us.

  “We will have to go out the window I came in,” she told me as she got me up. Blood heavily flowed down my back and onto the floor. I tried to take a step and fell forward into Sister Katherine as everything went dark.

  “She will wear a scar. Maybe in time we can laser it down, or do a skin graft, but with the baby there was too much damage and infection has set in. There is nothing we can do now,” I heard someone say as I turned to see Sister Katherine holding my hand in front of hospital monitors.

  “My baby?” my voice croaked.

  “You lost a lot of blood, and we have to treat the lacerations for infection, but I think she’ll be okay. She has a very strong mom,” the doctor told me as he gave me a compassionate smile.

  “She?”

  “Didn’t you know?” He asked as I cried and Sister Katherine comforted me.

  “I want a guard at the door,” Sister Katherine demanded, and the doctor agreed. Then he stepped out of the room as the beeping of the monitor pulled me back to reality.

  “Logan?” I asked and she shook her head.

  “He went home right after the funeral, but I think he was looking for you,” she thought her words were giving me hope, but instead they were my demise.

  “I can’t ever see him again.”

  “Child why?” Sister Katherine asked.

  “Because he won’t love me anymore. My freshly scarred up body would turn his eyes away. The lies I have told would end us. He wouldn’t believe the baby was his. I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I’ve had some poor life choices, and when in purgatory I chose hell so he could stay in Heaven.”

  “London, he’s in hell without you,” she tried but I shook my head.

  “I want you to find a good family for my daughter. I want you to always know where she is. I need to know that after I leave her that you will be there for her like you were for me. I need your word that you will never tell Logan. I can’t put either of them in a position where George or Hillary will find them together. Promise me,” I begged.

  “I promise, child,” she offered sympathy, but I didn’t want it. I had chosen my path and I didn’t know how to get off the ride. When Sister Katherine left I looked out the window of my room and saw Hillary fighting with the staff. She was going to kill me.

  I grabbed the phone in my room with no options left and dialed the only person I feared more than her.

  “Would you accept the charges from London?” an automated voice asked. Then I heard him say yes and I prayed this was the right decision. I begged internally that he could save me.

  “Daddy…”

  Chapter Thirty

  Logan

  “Think about it man,” Mark warned me, but I didn’t care. “If he is hurting her, raping her, killing her, or anything it would be the last thing you remember when you think of her if you go with them.”

  “I don’t care. I want to be there with her. Whatever is happening she won’t be alone if I am there.”

  “I know, but right now you are her strength and her vulnerability. When it came to Brooklyn I tried to save her, but instead she wound up having to save me. Listen to what Avery tells us to do. This whole thing is beyond my pay grade, but put some faith in them. They will get her home.”

  “I only believe in London,” I retorted. I had always had problems believing in anything. Even when I fly, I believe the reason I can find peace in the air is because up there is where London believes there’s a Heaven. When I’m by myself at home, I believe I’m not alone because somewhere out there London was thinking of me too. I didn’t believe in anything except her.

  “We saved each other,” Brooklyn corrected Mark while she was breathing strangely enough that we all turned to look at her.

  “Braxton Hicks,” her voice shared her annoyance in the contractions that were part of mother nature’s cruelty as she put it.

  “Avery,” one of the agents called him and he stood up and looked over his desk of screens. He tore off his headset and walked out of his office. I watched the display between the two of them while a man in a suit stood off to the side in handcuffs.

  The two men seemed to get heated, but not at each other. Something was happening. Brooklyn groaned, but it didn’t take my focus from what was happening outside the glass wall I was behind.

  “Attention,” Avery announced as he walked up to a monitor and pushed some buttons on a tablet that sat on a table. The man who was in handcuffs’s photo blew up on a screen behind him. “
I want everyone in here now!”

  “Mark,” Brooklyn screamed as she gripped the chair and he ran to her. I watched in slow motion as her jeans turned from medium blue to a darker color showing us that her water had broken.

  “I’m taking you to the hospital,” he told her and she pushed him away.

  “I’m not leaving without my sister,” she was being impossible. I thought Mark was going to turn into a caveman and throw her over his shoulder and drag her away. I know that’s what I would have done.

  “Brook-,” he started to pick her up and she punched him in the face.

  “No means no,” she yelled as another contraction hit. “I’m not leaving or having this baby till she is home. He or she will just have to wait.” The labor pains she was showing were on top of each other.

  “You hit me,” Mark scoffed.

  “You put a baby in me, we’re not even close to even,” Brooklyn screamed. “You push a baby out of your penis while someone tries to carry you. No!”

  “I need a medic or someone in here! We’re going to have a baby inside Langley.” Mark sarcastically spoke as his voice deepened showing his fear that his wife was in over her head. Avery gave a nod and the personnel at the desks called someone in.

  “I want everyone not delivering a baby in my office to look at the photo on the screen and then the man in the suit,” Avery announced as a sea of heads turned to look. “Looks like the boss we all have to answer to right?”

  Everyone seemed to agree as Avery gave someone another nod and he brought up a file.

  “Three hours ago, our boss Daniel Pantel was found in the London River. He was investigating the man standing before you in cuffs, Kevin Lasater who used to look like this,” Avery continued as the photo changed to show that the only difference between the two men was hair color. He seemed to be the bosses doppleganger.