“No, I’m not. And you know I’m not.”
Did Jed know it? Had he known it all along?
“Jedidiah,” Karen said, “I’m real, baby. I love you. I only want what’s best for you and Lilly. Take the shot and we can get our lives back again. Live like normal people.”
But they would never live like normal people. They weren’t normal people. Suddenly the incision above Jed’s ear began to throb and ache. Please, God, show me the truth.
“Jedidiah.”
Jedidiah. Karen never called him Jedidiah. She always called him just Jed. But this Karen had called him nothing but Jedidiah. Jed ran the scope over the crowd and found Lilly again with Abernathy. The man in sunglasses and Hawaiian shirt was still there, looming, watching them. Jed could tell by the way his shirt lay that he had a weapon in his waistband. Show me what to do, Lord.
• • •
Lilly held Mr. Abernathy’s hand tightly. As tightly as she held her dad’s when they walked through the deep forest. She was nervous and uneasy. Mr. Murphy never told her why she’d been brought to North Carolina nor why she and Mr. Abernathy had come to hear the vice president’s speech. But she knew in her heart that something bad was going to happen.
She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer that God would protect her mom and dad.
Then, as if the voice was audible only to her in the sea of this crowd, he spoke: LITTLE ONE, TRUST ME. NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS.
She did trust him. Of course she did.
• • •
“Jedidiah.” It was Karen again. “Listen to me. You need to take the shot when you have it. Don’t blow this. Lilly’s life depends on it.”
“Jedidiah,” Jed said. He continued to watch the Hawaiian shirt through the scope. “You keep calling me Jedidiah, but my wife never calls me that. It’s always just Jed.”
“You see it, don’t you?” Tiffany said.
“Yes.”
And there was more that Jed discovered than just that truth. Despite reminding Lilly about relying on God, letting him carry the load, Jed had never truly taken that step. He thought he had, but he’d been relying on himself, on Karen, on anything he could see and feel and touch. But no more. Maybe he would need to shoot. But he couldn’t make it on his own. It was too difficult. It was an impossible shot. Too far. And without the earpiece he had no idea what the winds were like. He needed help. He needed to stop just wishing he had a faith like Lilly’s and step forward, trusting God’s truth to catch him. Show me a sign, Lord. Please.
Settling into an even breathing rhythm, Jed aimed the rifle.
• • •
“Jed,” Tiffany said.
“I got this.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“I got this.”
• • •
Jed put the crosshairs where they needed to be. His own words, prompted by the memory of his sweet daughter, were in his ears, his mind, his heart: Faith isn’t about feeling; it’s about doing, putting one foot in front of the other and going.
He closed his eyes for only a second, then opened them. Aimed. Focused on the rise and fall of his diaphragm, the beating of his heart. He saw the moment he’d been waiting for.
He whispered aloud: “God, help my unbelief.”
Then he squeezed the trigger.
THIRTY-NINE
• • •
Not ten feet from Lilly, the man in the bright flowered shirt suddenly spun around, grunted, and dropped to the ground. She noticed he was closer than before, and there was a pistol in his hands that hadn’t been there a few moments ago.
The crowd around her began screaming.
Someone yelled, “He’s been shot!”
Panic followed.
Mr. Abernathy huddled over Lilly to protect her. All around them, people scurried and hurried. Some cried. Some hollered. Some moved without saying a word.
The man was there within seconds. Lilly’s friend. Agent Carson. He put an arm around Mr. Abernathy’s back and a hand on Lilly’s shoulder. He met both their eyes. “Follow me. Quickly now.”
• • •
Andrew Murphy flinched when he saw his man drop. Blood immediately rushed to his face and ears, and his pulse pounded in his temples. Patrick had abandoned the mission. He’d gone rogue. Andrew turned and punched the flimsy wall of the construction trailer where he’d set up his makeshift control center.
With one shot Patrick could have ended Connelly. He could have shut the man down so suddenly and violently that the country would be ready for Murphy’s plan. Legislators would have had no choice but to agree.
Instead, with one shot, Murphy’s plan was blown to kingdom come. The FBI would be all over this, combing through every agency with a microscope. Connelly would see to it.
Murphy cursed and switched channels on his radio. “Get the girl out of there! I want her here with me.” He had the trump card and he knew it. And the girl would pay for Patrick’s brazenness. Patrick would pay. Murphy would make him squirm. He cursed again and kicked the chair. “Get her now!”
• • •
Jed watched the mayhem through the scope for only a few quick seconds. He watched long enough to see a man, possibly one of Murphy’s, lead Lilly and Abernathy through the throng of confused witnesses.
“Did you shoot Connelly?” Tiffany asked. Her eyes were wide; her hands partially covered her mouth.
Jed slid out from behind the table, grabbed his sidearm and rifle. “No.”
“Who’d you shoot?”
“One of Murphy’s men.”
Tiffany moved to the door. “We need to get out of here.”
Jed glanced across the RV. Karen was still there, standing against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, disappointment clouding her eyes. She said nothing. Jed knew she wasn’t real. She was real enough in his mind, in whatever kind of device they’d implanted there, but that woman was not his Karen; she was not his wife.
They exited the RV and stopped just outside it. Tiffany looked the truck over, then turned to Jed. “I have my own truck.”
“Where?”
She pointed behind them. “Just down the road.”
“Let’s go.”
But when they emerged from the group of three campers, Jed found the road blocked by a large white Toyota pickup. Through the windshield he could see two men sitting in the front seat. Both wore shades and neither moved. Suddenly another man rose from the bed of the truck and fired a shot from above the cab’s roof. The bullet whizzed by Jed’s head and struck the RV behind him.
Without taking time to plan a strategy for defense, Jed grabbed Tiffany and dove behind the nearest camper. He put his rifle on the ground, let out his breath, swung around from the camper, and squeezed off two rounds from his handgun. In that fraction of a second he noticed two things. One, the men were no longer in the cab of the truck or they’d ducked down, knowing Jed would respond with shots of his own. And two, he’d successfully hit both front tires with the two shots he’d taken.
With the truck out of commission, he now only had to take out the three men.
“I can shoot,” Tiffany said.
Jed stared at her for a moment.
“My dad was military. He taught me.”
“You sure?”
“I want to stay alive.”
The men wouldn’t be expecting someone else to participate in the firefight. Tiffany might be the advantage Jed needed. “Okay. Go around the front side of the camper and lay down some fire. Draw their attention to you and I’ll take ’em out.”
Tiffany scrambled away, holding her pistol with both hands.
• • •
The man pushed his way through the crowd, dodged scurrying people, wove around frightened spectators. It was pandemonium. Police hollered orders, trying to calm the crowd, trying to get control, but it was useless.
Another man approached them, wearing sunglasses and a black T-shirt. Agent Carson punched the man in the face once, twice, then
said, “C’mon, we need to run. My truck’s over here.”
They ran, Agent Carson holding Lilly’s hand and Lilly holding Mr. Abernathy’s. Near the truck, a policeman approached them. His jaw was tight, his back straight. Agent Carson held up a badge and the cop said, “Okay. Go. Quickly.”
At the truck, a big black SUV, Agent Carson said, “Get in the passenger side. Quickly.”
Mr. Abernathy helped Lilly into the truck, then slid in next to her.
Agent Carson drove. Fast.
• • •
Yes, her father had taught her to shoot. Yes, she’d fired hundreds of rounds at the range and had proven to be a good shot. A great shot, actually. Maybe even better than her dad. And yes, she’d fired at another human before. But she’d never wielded her weapon with premeditated intent to kill, and the idea made her stomach knot into a tight ball. Even back at the apartment, she didn’t want to kill the intruder, only injure him, which she’d succeeded in doing.
Reaching the end of the camper, Tiffany poked her head around the corner and saw that she had an angle on the truck that Jed didn’t. She could clearly see the man in the bed, crouched behind the cab. He had no idea she was there.
Tiffany didn’t want to consider what she was about to do. Too much thought and she’d second-guess herself, her motives, her ability. She imagined the target at the range, her father’s careful, calm instructions to relax her shoulders and neck, steady her breathing, see the target, aim small.
Without further hesitation, she swung around the corner and squeezed the trigger once. The gun kicked in her hands and the man in the back of the truck dropped.
The passenger side cab door opened and both men scrambled out. Tiffany fired another shot that shattered the driver’s side window. She had no angle on the men but needed to occupy them so Jed could do what he did best.
She fired again, this time putting the bullet through the empty driver’s side window frame and into the back window.
She ducked behind the camper as a series of rounds struck the side and the ground around her feet. Her heart throbbed in her throat. Sweat stung her eyes.
When the shots settled, there was a moment of silence. Then . . . two pops followed by more silence.
“Tiffany!”
Tiffany poked her head around the camper. Jed stood near the truck, his pistol in one hand, rifle in the other.
“Let’s go.”
Both men lay on their sides in the dirt.
Tiffany led Jed to her truck and motioned him to the driver’s seat. “You drive. I’m sure you’re better at getaways than I am.”
The truck started on the first attempt, and Jed wasted no time churning up dust on their way out of the campground.
• • •
Though the truck was old and had seen its share of miles, its engine still carried some spunk. Jed blew past the campground office and reached the main road just as a black GMC Acadia arrived and stopped hard in the intersection, blocking their way.
Jed said to Tiffany, “Stay in here and get down.”
He threw open the door and slid out while simultaneously grabbing his handgun and finding the trigger.
Using the open door as a shield, he leveled the gun and was about to pull the trigger when the passenger door of the Acadia opened and Roger Abernathy exited, hands held high. “Jed, don’t. It’s us.”
Lilly emerged too. She rounded the front of the vehicle and ran for Jed. Tears wet her cheeks.
Jed tossed the gun onto the driver’s seat of the truck and took his daughter into his arms. He held her tight, burying his face in her hair and drawing in a deep breath. It was her. This was no hallucination, no product of an implant. She was real. His daughter. His baby girl. His Lilly.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She pulled her face from his shoulder and smiled at him. “I’m fine.”
Abernathy was there too. His hair was disheveled, his eyes tired. His face appeared more gaunt than last time Jed had seen him. He shook Jed’s hand and cracked his mouth into a weary smile.
Another man slipped out from behind the wheel of the Acadia and approached Jed. He handed Jed a key. “Take the GMC. It’s my personal vehicle, no tracking device. I’ll take the pickup.”
Jed didn’t waste time asking the man his name or why he’d decided to help Lilly and Abernathy. “Thanks.”
The man nodded. He reached for Lilly’s hand and took it in his own. “Good-bye, little sister. God be with you. I know he is.”
“Thank you,” Lilly said. “You too.”
Jed carried Lilly to the truck and sat her in the backseat with Tiffany. Abernathy took the front passenger seat.
Once they were moving, putting distance between them and the Outer Banks, Lilly said, “Daddy, where’s Mom?”
“We’re going to find her,” Jed said. Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. “Now would be a good time to pray.”
FORTY
• • •
Once they were on the open road headed north, Jed stole a glance at Abernathy beside him in the front seat and said, “Nice to see you again, Roger.”
Abernathy reached over and squeezed Jed’s shoulder. “You, too, Jed. I’m sorry it had to end up this way.”
“We thought you were gone.”
Abernathy nodded slowly. “So did I.”
“Why aren’t you?”
“I guess they thought I was still useful.”
“They were right.”
Abernathy shrugged, then turned to look at Lilly. “I suppose they were.”
“And Lawrence?”
“He didn’t make it off that mountain.”
“Why did you lead them to us?” Jed asked.
Abernathy looked at his hands, turned to the window, and studied the outside world. “I’m sorry about that, Jed. I am. You have to understand, though, that they would have found you eventually.”
“They?”
“Centralia. I didn’t know Murphy was part of them. He had me fooled too. They were hot on your trail and would have found you. Murphy convinced me that he had a way out, a way for you to be located without an ordeal.”
“Without violence.”
“Yes. It was either be found by him or be taken by force. I knew you wouldn’t want to put Karen and Lilly in that kind of situation, so I gave them your location. I’m sorry.”
“I know. So am I.”
Abernathy put his hand on Jed’s shoulder again. “Jed, I need you to know I never would have agreed to it if I for one minute believed it would have come to all this. I never wanted to put any of you in danger.”
He patted Abernathy’s hand. “No hard feelings.”
The drive to Harrisburg took them nearly seven hours. Lilly slept most of the way, her head resting on Tiffany’s lap. Tiffany remained mostly silent in the backseat. In the front seat, Abernathy proved to be a very talkative man. He spent a good portion of the trip recounting his childhood years to Jed, his military exploits, and his time served in the CIA.
When they got off the highway and onto Front Street, which ran parallel to the Susquehanna River, Abernathy looked at Jed and said, “I’ve been doing most of the talking, haven’t I?”
Jed nodded. “Yes. But I didn’t mind. I’m not much in a talking mood.” In fact, Jed would have preferred to have spent the last seven hours alone in his thoughts. He had a lot to sort through. And indeed, while Abernathy spoke, Jed thought often of Karen, wondering if they would find her at Joe Kennedy’s house. Had she made it there safely? Did Kennedy remember her? Had he agreed to help her? Jed had never really liked the plan from the beginning, but it was all they had. She had nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to.
He also thought of the thumb drive and what they would do with it. How would they ever get it into the hands of someone they could trust? And whom could they trust?
“Do you know why I told you all that?” Abernathy said, pulling Jed from his thoughts again.
“You thought I looked bored?”
&n
bsp; Abernathy laughed. “No. Something tells me there’s never a dull moment with you.”
“I wish I could just have a dull life now. Boring sounds really good.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Abernathy rubbed his face with both hands.
They stopped at a traffic light, and Jed said, “So why did you just spend the last seven hours bending my ear in every direction?”
The light turned green and Jed drove through the intersection.
Abernathy sighed. “Jed, life doesn’t always turn out the way we thought it would. In fact, it rarely does. But I wanted you to see how God works even when we don’t know him, when we’re at odds with him, when we’re his enemy. He’s still working. He’s in the background, hooking things up, moving things around, arranging things just so.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“All that I told you—”
“All seven hours of your life story.”
“Yes. All seven hours of it. All that I told you, everything I’ve experienced, all I’ve been through, has led to one moment. Right now.”
“Right now. Here. In this truck.”
“Yes, and back there, at the monument with Lilly, and on that mountaintop with Lawrence Habit, all of it was right now at that moment.”
Jed turned left onto Vaughn Street. Kennedy lived on Fourth, another several blocks away.
Abernathy shifted in his seat so he could face Jed. “Jed, we live life moment by moment and everything in our past, our history, has been preparing us for the moment we’re in. God works in the moments of our life, and everything leading up to every moment is orchestrated by him, part of his plan for our life.”
“Okay. So what does that have to do with me?” He turned right onto Fourth Street. Kennedy’s house was three blocks away. Jed scanned the street, the homes, the yards, looking for anything odd, anything out of place.
“Everything you’ve been through up until now—everything—was leading you to this moment. You. Lilly. Karen. Right now.”
Jed slowed the Acadia and stopped at a stop sign. He looked across the center console at Abernathy. He’d never thought of his life that way. He’d never viewed it as a series of carefully orchestrated happenings where one event built on another and every event led to the next and every event in the past served to prepare him for the event he was currently experiencing. Everything had order, purpose. The good, the bad, the painful, the wonderful . . . it all played its role, it all fit so neatly into the convoluted, complicated cog workings of his life. Jed saw God, not only as creator of the world, but as the sustainer as well, and not just of the world at large, but of each individual life. He saw how every part of his life, even the smallest, fit perfectly together, and how his life fit with those around him, and larger and larger the machine got until you had the whole of human history.
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