I weigh about a hundred and twenty pounds, but I’m strong and can carry a lot of weight. Even so, in less than a minute, my knees and back were aching. I was moving as fast as I could, but I knew it wouldn’t be fast enough. Sooner or later the men searching for Eunice would figure we’d gone in the opposite direction from the gate and catch up with us. I stumbled through the trees, bent almost double. My lungs and thighs burned from the exertion. I stepped forward and felt the ground give way beneath my feet. I struggled to keep my balance. I had reached the edge of the ploughed field, my feet sinking slightly into the loamy dirt. Our journey had just become more difficult.
I recalled the figures I’d seen working in the field. From my vantage point in the trees, I’d seen tools and a wheelbarrow. If I could find that wheelbarrow now, we could move a lot faster. I strained to make out shapes in the darkness. It was the dark of the moon, the last few hours before the new moon. The eclipse would be exact. I had to somehow find the strength to get Eunice to safety. Her very life was at stake. There was no time to waste. I sank to my knees, helping her lean against a nearby tree trunk while I reached for my flashlight. It was small but gave off a concentrated light. Shielding it with my hand, I raked it slowly over the edge of the cultivated stretch of ground. The wheelbarrow was there, only ten feet away.
I ran to it and grasped the handles, dragging it back to the tree where Eunice stood. The wheel on it had been well cared for and well oiled. It was nearly silent. I took the blanket from Eunice’s shoulders and stretched it over the bed of the wheelbarrow. I tipped it forward and led her closer, gently easing her into its cradle. She was shivering. I covered as much of her as I could with the edges of the blanket, maneuvered the wheelbarrow around, and headed straight across the field. The soft ground protected us from noise. The path between the cultivated mounds offered slightly firmer footing. Eunice sat quietly, doing her best to curl up and present no impediment to our travel.
A dog howled in the distance, greeted by other dogs barking in response. I registered the sound but forced the full meaning of it out of my mind. We had to get across the field and through the trees to the road. I was sweating profusely in spite of the cold and afraid to move faster for fear of tipping over the awkward carriage. I was mumbling prayers under my breath.
The barrow hit a hard bump. We’d reached the opposite side of the cultivated field. The road could not be far away. The barking of the dogs carried through the cold night air. Was it my imagination or were they closer? Somewhere in the trees behind us? Were they leashed? Could the dogs follow our scent? If so, and if they were trailing Eunice, would that scent have disappeared when she climbed inside the wheelbarrow? I hoped that was the case.
I pushed my burden into the thicket. Branches tore at my face and arms as I continued on, hitting a rock here and there, but I managing to keep the cart upright. I stopped. I listened and tried to quiet my breathing. Voices carried across the field, but they weren’t heading in this direction. The edge of the property had to be very close. I needed to reach the fence.
I leaned close to Eunice’s ear. “Don’t move,” I whispered. “Stay very still until I come back for you.” I pulled off my heavy sweater and wool cap, and, reaching down, helped Eunice into a semi-sitting position.
“You need this to keep warm.”
“Thank you, dear,” she replied in a breathy whisper. I quickly pulled the sweater over her head, helping her slide her arms into the thick sleeves. Then I pulled the wool cap over her head.
“Give me a few minutes. I have to find a way to get us out to the road.”
I moved as quietly as possible through the dense bushes until I reached the metal links of the fence. I pulled the wire cutters out of my makeshift holster and tore the scarf from my neck. Methodically, I clipped through each of the links from the ground to my shoulder height, and then cut several of them across at a right angle. The tool quickly snapped each link. I dropped the wire cutters and grasped the flexible chain-link, pulling it toward me to create an opening.
I wasn’t sure what to do next. The wheelbarrow might not fit through the opening and I didn’t want to take the time to cut more links. I was afraid to leave Eunice bundled up in the wheelbarrow inside the fence for fear she’d be discovered. And I couldn’t leave her unprotected on the road while I ran around the property to reach my car. That’s when I heard a motor and saw a flash of headlights coming toward me on the road.
I stood on the shoulder of the road and waved frantically as a pickup truck neared. It didn’t slow but continued past. My heart sank. Except for my T-shirt, I was dressed in black. The driver must not have seen me. I turned and saw a flash of red taillights. He had seen me! The truck moved into reverse gear and backed up very slowly. I ran to meet it. The driver hit a button and the passenger window opened. In the interior light, I saw a man dressed in work clothing: well-worn overalls with a work shirt and a heavy denim jacket. He was in his mid-fifties. His hair was gray, and his calloused hands rested on the steering wheel. The smell of the exhaust hit my nostrils.
“Do you need some help, ma’am?”
“Yes. Please. I do. Can you give us a ride?”
“Us?” His glance became more cautious.
“Yes. I have an elderly woman with me. Please, wait for me. I have to help her.”
“Sure thing. I’ll give you a hand.” He reached down and turned on blinking hazard lights. He left the engine idling and climbed down from the driver’s side.
I rushed back to the opening in the fence and pushed through. A few strands of Eunice’s white hair were visible in the dark. I ran to her. “It’s all right now. I have help.”
She didn’t reply but let me lift her slowly out of the wheelbarrow to a standing position. With my arm around her waist and guiding her, I pushed branches away and led her to the opening in the fence. My good Samaritan was waiting at the side of the road. He still had not asked any questions. I led Eunice through the fence, and when the driver saw she could barely walk, he lifted her with ease, carrying her like a child. He nodded to me, indicating that I should open the passenger door. He slid Eunice across the seat.
“Hop in, ma’am.”
I didn’t need a second invitation. I clambered into the truck, putting an arm around Eunice to hold her upright. Her thin hand gripped my T-shirt as if she were clinging to life. The driver resumed his seat, hit the door locks, and put the truck into gear, picking up speed as he moved forward on the road.
“Can you take us to the Sheriff’s Station?”
He glanced at me, nodded, and turned his eyes back to the road. At the next bend, he turned right. We were still circling the Prophet’s property. At the end of this road he slowed the truck, and instead of turning left to head into town, he took a right.
My stomach knotted in fear. “Where are you going?”
The man glanced at me quickly but didn’t respond. We passed my car, barely visible on the dark road.
“Stop!” I shouted. “Stop right now.” I clutched Eunice protectively. Before I could say another word, he hit the brakes, slowed, and turned into the same dirt driveway I’d entered just a few short hours ago.
The sickening knowledge hit me. We’d walked into a trap. I hadn’t managed to rescue Eunice, and we were now, both of us, prisoners of the Prophet’s Paradise.
FORTY-THREE
THE DRIVER PULLED TO a stop, his headlights illuminating the locked metal gate. He gave the horn three short bursts.
I turned to him. His features were lit only by the dash lights. Those same features that had seemed benign a few moments before now took on an evil cast. I was sure the driver’s door lock controlled the passenger door, and even if I were able to jump out and run, I couldn’t leave Eunice alone. I had no options. I was trapped.
Anger welled up inside my chest. “How could you do this?” Anger was better than tears.
He shot a glance toward me. “I get paid, lady. The rest is none of my business.”
I was temp
ted to spit at him. “I will get out of here,” I hissed, “and when I do, I swear I’ll find you.” I was very close to tears.
There was movement on the other side of the chain-link fence. Two men were running from the camp toward us. Gudrun was right behind them. One man reached the gate and pulled a set of keys from his pocket. He unlocked the hasp and swung the gate open. The driver hit a button and unlocked the doors of the pickup. The second man passed a shotgun to Gudrun and yanked open the passenger door. He grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the truck. Eunice had been leaning into me and almost tipped over on the seat. The man who’d opened the gate reached in and slid her toward the door, lifting her in his arms. I heard her cry out.
I yanked my arm from the first man’s grasp. “Let go of me!” I was furious now. I was probably going to get hurt, but I didn’t care. I wanted to inflict some damage. I took a quick step closer and attempted to kick him in the groin. He jumped back. I’d missed the mark.
I turned to Gudrun. “What do you think you’re doing? I’ve already called the sheriff. He’s on his way.”
She was momentarily confused and looked questioningly at the driver. The driver had not moved from his position. He shook his head in response. “I doubt she had time.”
What an idiot! If I hadn’t been so panicked, I would have called the sheriff. It would have been worth the loss of time to try to reach him. Even if no one answered, I could have left a message and then someone would at least know where we were and bring help.
The man with the keys grabbed my arm and reached into the pocket of my jeans. He extricated my cell phone and hit buttons to check the call log. He laughed. “She’s bluffing.” He dropped the cell on the ground and crushed it with the heel of his boot.
Gudrun leveled the shotgun at me and nodded to the two men, indicating they should bring us inside. I struggled to break free but his grip was too strong. Half pulling and half dragging me, he forced me down the dirt road while the other man carried Eunice in his arms. She was crying quietly and called my name.
We reached a cabin just beyond the one in which I’d found Eunice. Gudrun removed a heavy padlock from the door handle, opened the door wide, and stood back. Eunice was carried in and placed on a cot. I was forced up the two short steps and shoved hard. I flew across the tiny room and fell against the opposite wall. The door slammed shut behind us. We were in total darkness.
As the lock clicked into place, I heard voices outside the door, then Gudrun’s response. “The Prophet … coming tonight … decide what to do.”
I took a deep breath and took stock. My elbow was badly scraped. My cell phone was gone. The one tool I had was the wire cutters, and those were on the other side of the compound by the chain-link fence. I felt in my other pocket and almost cried in gratitude—they hadn’t discovered my tiny flashlight. I reached in and dug it out, shining the narrow beam around our prison. This cabin was exactly like the others, except it had no window. I put my ear to the door and listened carefully. It was possible they’d posted a guard outside, but also possible they hadn’t. I hoped they were convinced we were safely imprisoned for the night.
Eunice had stopped crying. I felt my way to the cot and, kneeling down, stroked her head. “I know you’re afraid.” I felt her nod. “Try to stay calm. I swear, Eunice, I’ll figure something out.” She shook her head in a hopeless gesture. She seemed less confused than she had been an hour ago. I counted that as a good sign. Whatever drugs she’d been given were wearing off.
I pointed the light at the door and checked the frame. This door was heavy and fit solidly into the jamb. It wasn’t something that would give way to a few well-placed kicks. The ceiling was built out of heavy boards that seemed newer, as if they’d recently been replaced. I turned off my flashlight, anxious I might wear down the tiny battery. On hands and knees, I crawled back to Eunice’s cot. I wanted to keep her quiet and make as little noise as possible in case Gudrun or the men returned.
One of the boards under my knees creaked. I pressed on it several times, and it seemed to give slightly. I turned on my flashlight again to get a better look. The floorboards were very old and pitted, but some had been secured with newer nails, the shiny newer steel reflected the light.
Starting at the side of the cot, I crawled slowly around the perimeter of the room, inspecting each floorboard carefully. They were uniformly old and mostly eaten by dry rot and mold. If I could locate one that hadn’t been recently nailed down, then perhaps I could dislodge it. There was a crawl space under each cabin, maybe only two feet high but big enough for me.
Eunice was moaning. She called my name. I crawled back to the cot on my knees. “Shhh. Stay calm. I think I have an idea.”
“Julia?”
“Yes, I’m here,” I whispered.
“So foolish. To come here … it was for the bees, dear.”
“I know.”
“They promised me.”
“What did they promise?”
“To let me care for the bees.” Eunice’s one passion had been used to seduce her. There has to be a special hell, I thought.
“Listen to me. I don’t know how yet, but I promise you, we’ll get away and I’ll make sure Dorothy lets you keep bees.”
“You will?” she replied breathily.
“I promise.”
“I want them to feed on lavender. They’ll make such nice honey then.”
“Lavender it is.” I almost laughed. The thought of a fragrant lavender bush on a warm sunny day seemed light years away from our current predicament. “Just keep imagining lavender. I’m going to be crawling around on the floor looking for a way out, so be patient, okay?”
I turned and started my maneuver once again. There were a few creaks and groans but nothing that looked promising under the light. I’d reached the opposite wall. I planned to move in tighter concentric circles until something looked viable. I reached the far back corner and almost missed it—one spot where the wide boards had not been reinforced.
My flashlight was dimming. The battery was losing power. I took one last look under the light, wedged my fingernail into the edge of a corner board, and flicked off the light. I could feel the board wiggle back and forth. Perhaps the nails had fallen out. I felt for the short edge of the floorboard, wedged two fingernails into the end, and pulled it toward me. I heard the rough creaking of rotten wood and the squeak of a rusty nail. I managed to lift one end half an inch when a fingernail broke and the board fell back into place. I didn’t care if my fingers turned into bloody stumps—I intended to find a way out.
I remembered I had one other tool. No one had spotted the cord around my neck. I reached inside my T-shirt and took the long car key out. Once again, I wedged an unbroken fingernail into the end of the board and managed to get the tip of the key into the crack. I had to be careful not to damage the key, though, in case I was able to reach my car. Using the key as a lever, I lifted the board enough to insert a finger into the gap. With my other hand, I tucked the cord back under my T-shirt. Maneuvering on my knees and gripping the edge of the board with both hands, I pulled it up another inch. Once again, a stubborn rusty nail squeaked. I was making progress but hoped no one was outside the door listening to my efforts. I took a deep breath, then grasped the end of the board and pulled with all my strength. The board came completely loose. It was only one wide plank, but it was a start. A trickle of something warm ran down my palm. I was bleeding.
Still kneeling, I changed positions and, using both hands, grasped the long edge of the next board. I pulled with all my strength and felt the resistance of the ancient nails. After three tries, the board came away, cracking in two. Half was in my hand, the other half a jagged tear.
A rush of air, damp earth, and dead leaves hit my nose. I put my foot through the opening and touched the earth below. Using my knee, I kicked upward until the next board loosened, easier now that I had leverage. I felt the edges of the opening. It was time to give it a try. I could squeeze through the hole. I wa
s only afraid someone might have heard my struggle.
I crawled back to the cot. “Eunice. I’m not going to leave you here alone. I’m going to crawl under the cabin to get out. I’ll get you free somehow. I won’t leave you here. Just trust me, okay?”
She gripped my hand in the dark. “I’ll try to be brave, dear.”
I turned back to my newly created escape hatch and pushed the thought of black widow spiders out of my head. California was rife with them and piles of construction material and logs were one of their favorite nesting places. Once bitten, emergency care would be necessary within minutes, or vomiting, blindness, even death could result, depending on body mass. I put both feet through the hole. If I could squeeze my hips through, I could make it the rest of the way. The jagged edge of the broken board pressed against my thigh. I turned and kicked it up, dislodging it. I now had just enough room.
Kneeling on the cold ground beneath the shack, I squeezed the rest of the way through, holding my breath. Now only the upper part of my body was above the floor. I had to make it the rest of the way. Painfully, I twisted my body until I could stretch my legs out on the ground. Lifting my arms above my head, I squiggled my bottom along the dirt until I was completely under the cabin, lying on my back. I prayed I had not disturbed a nest of any kind of creepy crawly things. If I had, I’d require hospitalization long before I could escape, with or without Eunice. Given the ethics of the Prophet’s Army, I was certain they’d do nothing to help me.
I turned slowly onto my stomach and, brushing cobwebs from my face, crawled the few feet to the rear of the cabin and the night air. I emerged and frantically brushed leaves, dirt, and cobwebs from my face and hands, hoping nothing had nestled in my hair.
I sat on the freezing ground for a moment, hugging my knees and catching my breath until panic subsided. I looked up and down at the backs of the cabins. There were lights on in two of them. As I watched, they were extinguished. I heard a door slam in the distance and voices carried on the cold night air. Adrenaline had made me unaware of the cold, but now I was shivering in my light T-shirt. I had to keep moving or the cold would slow me down.
The Madness of Mercury Page 22