Between Faith and Fear

by J. A. Dennam

  Derek’s jaw clenched. “We took care of that, remember?”

  “What about the cell phones your so-called contact gave you?”

  “Ty’s clean. I trust him.”

  “Well, maybe I don’t!”

  As the two went back-and-forth, Melanie listened attentively while she searched the back seat-pockets for hidden toys... anything to distract her toddler from the untethered angst of the moment.

  “If I were to guess, I’d say you’re the one being tracked,” Derek suggested darkly, his palm heavy on the twelve o’clock position.

  Rena froze. “It couldn’t possibly still be active. And wouldn’t it have been detected at the prison and removed then?”

  “It’s organic. Undetectable, but there’s only one way to be sure it’s no longer active.”

  “But...”

  “Just do it, Rena!”

  Jackpot! Melanie’s fingers drew out a colorful, cardboard picture book that had been missing for several weeks.

  “Want me to stop?” Derek asked.

  A sound of suppressed pain. “No, I’m getting it!”

  Unable to hold back, Melanie stole her attention from Mortimer Moose’s Adventure Alphabet to find Rena with her pants down, digging at her inner thigh with the tip of a switchblade.

  “Oh... jeez,” Melanie groaned, “what is she doing?”

  DJ howled at having C is for Cartwheel shoved way too close for a proper scanning.

  “Holy...” The gag reflex beckoned. “She really is crazy.”

  On DJ’s right, Chewie lifted his nose to the smell of blood then settled again with a whimper.

  Melanie caught a reluctant glimpse of a small, bloody, rice-shaped object before it went out the window. Nausea assailed her senses, but she closed her eyes and swallowed it.

  Pale and sweating, Rena packed her small wound with a discarded sock, pulled up her pants and slumped against the door. Though she hadn’t made a sound, whitened teeth marks flooded red when she released her lower lip.

  “If the ghosts still find us,” she panted, “Ty is going down.”

  How could anyone do that to themselves? The conversation suggested the woman had removed some sort of tracking device from her body, but only unmitigated fear could prompt such a gruesome act of self-mutilation. Even worse was that a small cardboard book was the only thing keeping DJ from being subject to it all!

  Reality delivered another shocking blow and she struggled to keep it together as she turned the page. D is for Diving board. “Are you talking about the Ty you used to go rock climbing with?” she asked softly.

  Derek’s eyes met hers again in the mirror.

  “How many others know you’re alive?” she asked.

  His gaze returned to the road ahead. “Just Ty. I was able to make contact with him when I bought some extra time outside IGP by pretending to fail in my mission oh... six times or so. He became my only outside source.”

  “I only remember four times,” Rena wheezed, fumbling with the air conditioner.

  “That’s because you were a catatonic slush pile, sweetheart. At least until the injections kicked in.”

  “Injections?” Melanie reached forward and cranked the fan, requiring a healthy dose of air herself. The remaining blood on Rena’s hand stood out in her peripheral vision and she choked back another urge to gag.

  “He was supposed to deliver me to IGP in a catatonic state,” Rena informed, adjusting vents. “Their chances of drawing out my secrets were better if they controlled my recovery, but Derek figured out their intentions and planned to make them work in his favor.”

  Derek raised an eyebrow and locked eyes with hers. “Our favor.”

  “His attempts to reach me in the psych ward were successful every time. It’s just that I was more valuable to him lucid, so he gave me a series of injections that reversed my condition. When I began to see clearly again, I realized, not only was the ghost in my dreams real, he was trying to help me.”

  Derek took it from there. “In the meantime, Ty found the church, outfitted it for us, provided cell phones, etcetera. It wouldn’t have been possible without him.” He shot a pointed look at Rena.

  H is for... “How did you know Rena was salvageable?” Melanie asked, pointing out the blue helicopter on the next page. “Or what to use on her, for that matter?”

  “I eavesdropped. A lot.”

  Rena rolled her eyes toward Melanie. “Hello. Ghost.”

  “The opportunity didn’t present itself often,” Derek said, “but I took advantage when it did. All I wanted to know was what they were doping me with. Instead, I discovered what their inside guy was doping Rena with and that her secrets could provide a possible means to an end.”

  Rena smiled faintly. “Lucky for me.”

  Derek returned the woman’s appreciative gaze with a dry look. “It wasn’t exactly a selfless act.”

  Melanie gritted her teeth. What the hell was going on between those two? Jeez, it was excruciating watching the signals pass between them. “So, Rena, now we’re supposed to believe you were never crazy?”

  Unfazed, Rena cocked her head. “I can be a bit... unbalanced when my meds are tampered with.” As she thought about it, her brow relaxed and her next words were spoken with genuine sympathy.

  “Unfortunately, Derek is now in the same boat.”

  Chapter 8

  Just the thought set Melanie’s blood to boiling. “Thanks to you!” she yelled, forgetting her cool.

  Open farmland stretched for miles now that they were north of Springfield. They approached a service station along the narrow highway that appeared to have been abandoned a while.

  “I really am sorry about that part.” Rena flattened a hand over Derek’s thigh. He glanced at her when he made a left into the uneven asphalt parking lot.

  Ugh! Melanie leaned forward and forcefully removed Rena’s hand. “Look,” she ground out, ignoring the amused glint in the other woman’s eyes, “I don’t care if you were or weren’t yourself when you caused Derek’s accident. But I do know that you are responsible for destroying lives. As far as I’m concerned, Derek should have let you rot in a straight jacket and hauled his ass to the nearest hospital.”

  Derek parked and cut the engine. They were now sandwiched between a vast soybean crop and the graffiti-riddled backside of the service station. “A tox analysis would only show there’s no known treatment for my kind of withdrawal. If IGP didn’t get me by then, I’d be dead within a few days anyway. The only way to buy more time is to get my hands on more of the drug.”

  “Well...” Rena shifted in her seat. “It shouldn’t take long once we get our hands on that bullet.”

  “There’s Ty. Just in time.”

  “What bullet?” Melanie’s eyes began to droop with fatigue, but a familiar growl woke her up again. It sounded from the street, revved once, then settled to a grumble as a black 1970 Challenger R/T coasted around the crusty building. “What’s going on? Derek, why does he have your car?”

  As the two front passengers exited the Honda with the dog close behind, Melanie fumbled with DJ’s harness. By the time she emerged with the toddler in her arms, Derek was engaged in a manly bro-grab with the blond god Danny had once vowed to marry. Chewie pranced anxiously around their feet.

  When they separated, Ty Ferguson bent and offered a proper greeting to a most enthusiastic canine. “Hey, boy, you been good for these two?”

  “I might have to keep him a while longer,” Derek said, squatting for a share of the affection. “We’d have been busted if not for this old guy. My added eyes and ears when I’m distracted with... other things.”

  His side look brought the heat back to Melanie’s face. “So...” she stammered, “This is Ty’s dog.”

  “Guilty.” Ty stood and threw Chewie a hand signal. The canine immediately cut the play and sat at attention.

  Impressive. Melanie couldn’t help but smile. “That means you’re the one who taught him to steal.”

  “Nah,
that’s his natural talent. It started with ladies undergarments.”

  “Hey, I remember that,” Derek said over his shoulder while on his way to the Challenger. “We used to call him Panty Raid.”

  Rena rolled her eyes. “Classy.”

  Derek took a moment, ran a hand over his mouth as he scoped out the profile of his beloved ride. Man and car, together at last. Melanie’s heart constricted once again as she watched him pay homage to a most important piece of his past. Little did he know, his son was conceived right there. On the hood.

  “You say you found her at Cahill’s?” he asked with a frown, opening the driver’s side door.

  Rena glared from her perch on the Honda’s bumper.

  “In the garage,” Ty answered, catching the glare and holding it as he circled around to the Challenger’s trunk. “I guess your sister’s been maintaining it. Wasn’t easy sneaking it out of that place.”

  “Did she see you?”

  “I don’t think so.” The trunk slammed and Ty emerged with two loaded duffel bags. “I’m not sure she’d recognize me if she did.”

  “Don’t count on it,” Melanie smirked, cocking her hip to offer a better seat for her load. “She used to have a thing for you if I remember correctly.”

  And it wasn’t hard to see why. Ty, with his tall solid build and golden aura, was every girl’s type at first sight. He set a bag down by the open driver’s-side door and acknowledged Melanie with the polite nod of a stranger. When he stuck a hand out in “put-er-there” fashion, DJ willingly obliged, showing off his few teeth while his fist was diligently wiggled.

  “You sure couldn’t tell it the way she barked at me during that blender rescue,” Ty grumbled as he moved on. “And you must be the infamous Rena Hellberg.” His look was guarded as he plunked the second bag beside the woman’s feet. “To what do I owe the pleasure of that murderous glare?”

  Sapphire eyes flashed against a ghostly pale complexion. “What’s the matter?” Rena lifted a brow. “Afraid you’re next?”

  “Oooh,” Ty purred, leaning in for a closer look. “Scary. Guess I’m lucky you’re about to fall over.”

  “Rena,” Derek yelled from somewhere deep in the black vehicle behind them. “A little help, here!”

  Ty was knelt down, removing supplies from the open duffle bag and he grabbed Rena’s wrist to keep her from going. “Sorry, brother, no can do,” he answered back. “At least not before I patch her up.”

  Their eyes clashed and her lip curled. “What makes you think I need patched up?”

  “Ash isn’t the most flattering color on you, darlin’. Sit before you fall.”

  “She has a self-inflicted knife wound on her inner thigh,” Melanie volunteered as she moved toward the Challenger. “My advice would be to ignore that civic duty of yours unless you have a desire to get stabbed in the back.”

  When Rena began to trim her nails with the blade in question, Ty tensed up, held out a hand. “I’ll take that. At least until I’m done.”

  She blew air through her lips. “Like hell you will.”

  “Just give him the knife, Rena,” Derek ordered from inside the car.

  And, as usual, she obeyed, albeit with great reluctance. “What are you, some kind of cop?” she grumbled as she handed it over.

  “He’s a fireman.” Melanie gave Chewie a scratch behind the ears when the canine nudged DJ’s dangling socked feet. “If you want proof, you may still be able to get your hands on the 2009 calendar.”

  “You’re kidding,” Rena sneered.

  Melanie met Ty’s warning look as he donned blue latex gloves. “You were Mr. February, right?” she asked cheekily, “handling a chop saw? Flame tattoo on your left shoulder? Really hot stuff.”

  Rena’s eyes narrowed on his trimmed, military-style haircut. “Sounds like an opportunist to me.”

  “It was for charity,” Ty drawled defensively.

  Derek emerged with DJ’s emergency diaper kit in hand. “What the hell is this?”

  Oh, crap. Melanie watched as he lifted out a handful of folded diapers and scowled darkly.

  “Don’t tell me Danny had a kid, too!” he said, completely appalled.

  “Uh... actually...”

  “Jesus Christ, am I the only one not reproducing, here?”

  Melanie snatched the bag and returned his scowl. “You sure assume a lot,” she snapped as he plunked the diapers back in the bag she held open. “This happens to be DJ’s, which I could really use since we left the other one back at the church.”

  “Why would you have this in my car?”

  Because every weekend we take your son for a ride so he can get a feel for what he’ll inherit when he’s sixteen. “Because Danny and I took him for a picnic in it the other day,” she said instead. “He likes the noise.”

  DJ pointed at the classic muscle car. “Raaarrr, raaaarrr!”

  Derek blinked, completely shell-shocked. “And how does Mac feel about that?”

  “About what?”

  “Taking his kid for rides in a back seat that you and I frequently defiled.”

  Melanie’s teeth snapped shut. What to say to that... Oh, yeah. “Derek Bennett, you can just kiss my--”

  “Shouldn’t you be looking for something rather than lamenting over the good ole’ days?” came a snarky comment by the Honda. Rena was glaring with clenched teeth, her pants once again around her ankles as Ty applied first-aid to her creamy inner thigh. “Thanks to this guy, we’re already behind schedule.”

  Just when Melanie was about to spring her own whopper of a reveal on the ignorant papa, she was reminded why not to. Nothing was coming out while the hellbitch plotted close by. With a huff, she ducked, climbed into the Challenger’s back seat and got to work while Derek resumed his search in the front.

  “We’re looking for a--”

  Rip.

  Silence fell.

  Rip.

  Derek’s head popped up over the seat. “What are you doing?”

  “He needs changed,” Melanie mumbled, pulling a wipe out of a cylindrical container.

  DJ chewed a finger and turned wide eyes on his captive audience while his bottom was thoroughly cleaned. “Da!” he yelled, pointing the slobbery finger.

  Focused on the impending catastrophe about to befall his interior, Derek moaned and grabbed a folded diaper. “Can’t you do that in your own car?”

  “This one has more room.” Melanie snatched the disposable shield from him with a sound of disgust and commenced to properly covering DJ’s privates. “Big-bad IGP ghost going pale over a dirty diaper. Austin changes him all the time.”

  “That’s Austin’s problem, not mine.”

  “Is it really so bad, Derek?” she snapped while closing the crotch of DJ’s jumper. “Aside from the obvious danger we’re in, is it really that painful having a baby around?”

  “Well...” he blustered searching the glove box, “last I knew, you felt the same way. That’s why we doubled up on the birth control, remember?”

  The man had a point. No wonder it was so far out of his realm of possibility that he could have sired her son. Still, the reminder was dished out in an accusatory manner.

  “We weren’t always so careful. Remember?”

  Instead of grasping the hint, Derek pulled up the floor mat and pushed out a laugh. “Careful enough, sweetheart. And considering I’m probably sterile from the drug use at this point, it’s a problem I’ll never have to deal with.”

  Hot tears scalded her eyes. Wow. He really didn’t want children, even when his chances of returning to a normal life were within his grasp. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re looking for, Derek,” she ground out, scrubbing her hands with a squirt of sanitizer.

  “It’s a nine millimeter bullet,” he answered, completely oblivious toward her meaning. “Yay big with a small engraved marking on the bottom. I kept it in my glove box sort of as a good luck charm.”

  “You kept a bullet as a good luck charm?”

  �
�It’s not just any bullet. Rena gave it to Austin when they were kids. She called it a magic bullet and, not wanting much to do with her at the time, Austin gave it to me because I thought it was cool. Years later when he found this car for me, I put it in the glove box for good luck and then when our friendship went sour, I figured I’d return it via Smith & Wesson some day.”

  Leaving DJ to prowl the back seat, Melanie wiped her eyes and joined in Derek’s diligent search. “You were going to shoot him with it?”

  “Probably not, but the thought appealed.”

  She sat up and stifled a yawn. The emotional trauma and lack of sleep were finally catching up with her. “Okay, so what makes this bullet so magical?”

  “I’m not exactly sure, but it’s important enough to IGP to threaten Rena into a breakdown.”

  The passenger door opened. “It started out as pure panic,” Rena piped in from outside. “The breakdown came after I thought I’d failed IGP the first time. So, if we can move it along before it happens again?”

  “What do you mean the first time?” Melanie asked with a frown, checking beneath the seats.

  “When I searched Derek out by the river, it was all about the bullet. Not sex like that bitch - uh, his sister implied.”

  “You made her think it,” Melanie accused in defense of her friend.

  “I couldn’t exactly tell them the truth,” Rena argued. “She provided a great cover. But, I wouldn’t mind giving the sex a go now.”

  Derek sent her a glare.

  “What?” Rena’s lips spread into an adoring smile and her classic beauty showed itself. “Sex is a great way to treat anxiety.”

  Melanie gaped. “Are you serious?”

  Rena transferred her gaze to Melanie. “What do you care if Derek and I play? You’re committed to the father of your children. Unless...” Her eyes flitted to DJ who continued to empty the diaper bag onto the seat beside him one item at a time.

  Melanie froze as her wheels began to turn. Could the woman possibly know?

  “Who’s playing with who?” Ty asked, leaning in beside Rena who instantly tensed.