Reluctant Runaway

by Jill Elizabeth Nelson

  Desi glared at the red-robed women. “How did you get the baby? What have you done with Max and her family?”

  “Who’s Max?” Hope moved between her and Karen. “We found the little lamb at home, just as Ham’s Inner Witness said.” She glanced toward the mother cuddling her child and then beamed at Desi. “So perfect.” The young woman stepped away and offered Karen the water jar.

  “Don’t drink any more of that.” Desi charged forward, but the linebacker tackled her, and they hit the dirt. Ms. Linebacker twisted one arm behind Desi’s back and rested a knee on her wrist. Hot spikes radiated up to Desi’s shoulder, and her hand began to go numb.

  “Be calm.” Linebacker’s voice was as dainty as her build was sturdy. She lifted Desi to her feet like she were no more than a puppet. “Drink!” She thrust a jar at her. Under her glare, Desi took the ceramic pot and sipped. The flavor on her tongue was wonderful, fruity.

  “Swallow!” Linebacker stepped toward her.

  Desi let the drops slide down her throat. Probably not enough to turn her gaga, but the moisture whetted her appetite for more. It had been a dry day.

  “You will bathe now.” Linebacker motioned toward the tubs.

  Nursing a stiff shoulder, Desi disrobed and eased into the water. Linebacker nodded approval. Karen slipped into the other tub with Adam. “Mommy’s glad to see you.” She leaned him back on the water, supporting his head, and tickled his bare belly Adam burbled and kicked, splashing water onto Karen’s chin. She laughed and lifted him and kissed his fat tummy.

  Desi’s heart filled with a strange ache. A wholesome envy, if such a thing were possible.

  Hope handed Desi a cake of pink soap. Desi put her palm over the bar and curled her fingers around the cult member’s hand. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”

  The young woman canted her head, eyes wide and innocent. No, not innocent. Vague. This one was on the joy juice, too. Desi glanced at Linebacker. Not that one.

  Hope pulled her hand away. “There’s nothing to fear. You’ll be blessed above all others in heaven because you gave your health and vigor to us who remain behind.”

  “Wash,” Linebacker said.

  Desi scowled, but drew the soap over the dirt and bruises that covered her skin. The warm water mellowed her weary bones and muscles. More hot water poured into the tub caressed her abrasions. Her body went slack, and her head began to go woozy. No way could she take another drink out of that water pot. The stuff was too potent.

  “Relax.” Hope’s voice tickled her ear from behind. The woman massaged Desi’s scalp with warm oil. Linebacker put the jar to Des’s lips. She took in a mouthful, then sank her chin into the bathwater and released the toxic moisture her dry throat ached to swallow.

  The bath ended too soon. Reprieve over. She got out and was given a soft towel. She dried herself in slow, dreamy movements. Was she convincing as a drugged person? Too bad only part of it was an act. She had to clear her head.

  Desi took in deep breaths, while Hope rubbed more oil into her hands, her feet, her face and neck, then gave her a white robe. Not as soft as the towels, but it covered her everywhere except where the oil glistened on her skin.

  Karen stood beside her, face slack, dressed the same as Desi. Hope placed a naked sleeping baby into Karen’s arms and gave her another drink. Linebacker came to Desi and lifted the pot to her lips. She let the cool moisture enter her mouth, but held it there. When the red-robed women went to the door, Desi wiped her lips with her sleeve and spit the water onto it.

  They were led out into the round room. A spicy odor came from incense burning on a small table that now sat in the center of the room under the ladder. Other items sat on the table—the knives missing from the museum and the ceremonial bowl used for drinking the blood of the slain sacrifice. Desi’s mouth lost what moisture remained.

  “Our lambs are lovely, aren’t they?” Hamilton Gordon drew Desi and Karen with the baby to the center of the room. Others in red robes swirled around them, touching, smiling, congratulating. Mostly women. Few young. Some with ravages of illness on their faces.

  Desi backed away, shaking her head. “Wait one minute. What do you get out of this?”

  The Red Robes stared at her, eyes unfocused.

  Gordon took her hands. “Haven’t you understood? We lead half-lives here on earth. A physical debility keeps us from wholeness. Even young Hope. She just found out her leukemia is back. But you—” he squeezed her hands “are the picture of vitality.” He leaned closer. “I had meant for you to handle my business affairs, but Reverend Romlin convinced me that this is the proper course for our relationship. You do see the beauty, the symmetry? I told you we would become one, and when we do, I shall receive health, and you will achieve glory unspeakable.”

  Desi’s stomach churned.

  Gordon turned toward his motley congregation. “Did you know that this morning my dear cousin proved herself by the ancient ways and is doubly worthy of honor?” Heads shook. “The Reverend tells me she climbed the initiation ladder. He found her on the exalted perch.”

  “Initiation ladder? I was trying to get out of the canyon.”

  Gordon chuckled. “The ladder was never intended as a way out. When the Ancient Ones made the grooves in the rock face, the canyon was open. Where was the need? No, the ladder tested the courage of young warriors, but you were supposed to bring a rope to let yourself down. Good thing we had a helicopter.” He beamed.

  “I’m supposed to say thank you?” She gazed around, bile rising. “You think drinking the blood and eating the flesh of another mere mortal will get you anything but a murder conviction? You don’t need to partake of any body and blood except the Spirit of the Lord Je—”

  “I don’t believe our lamb is properly prepared.” Romlin stepped into the room from the other chamber. He wore a black robe with a white stole. Very ministerial. His silver gaze glittered. “If it does not stop using its mouth as I instructed it some time ago, it will regret the consequences to someone it cares about.”

  A goon followed Romlin, shoving Tony ahead of him. Tony’s hands were behind his back and one shoulder drooped. White edged his compressed lips. Then the pilot came out pulling another bound man, this one dressed in a white robe. Desi’s eyes widened. Brent!

  “Karen!” The young man struggled against his captor, and the pilot slugged him in the mouth. He reeled, but kept his feet. Blood trickled down his chin and stained his robe. Bruises already marred one side of Brent’s face.

  Gordon spluttered. “Reverend Romlin, I must protest this abuse of our ram.”

  Everyone ignored him.

  Brent stared at his wife. Karen stared back. She mouthed his name and then looked at her feet, face pale, clutching Adam to her chest.

  Desi narrowed her eyes at Romlin. “Why did you grab Brent? What have you done with Max and her family?”

  The Reverend lifted white brows. “I don’t know any Max.”

  “This fake preacher—” Brent jerked his chin at Romlin—”and his bully boys pounced on me and Adam this afternoon as soon as we got home from the airport. With my name cleared, I flew out last night to get the little guy and came back today.”

  Romlin smiled. “That sums the matter up well. We brought the baby’s father here to fulfill Ham’s need for a sacrificial ram. However, Mr. Webb has been uncooperative about taking his medicine, which makes this whole matter more unpleasant for him.”

  Brent’s eyes went bleak. “I thought Adam would be safe after we heard … well, you know.” He nodded at his drooping wife.

  Desi’s heart ached. Pete was reported dead, and Karen had no idea. But what did it matter if none of them got out of here alive? Karen would never be found. Brent and the baby would disappear—little Adam’s life cut off before he ever had a chance to live. Pete Cheama’s family would be destroyed, just like he dreamed. And Max and Jo would live in agony, never knowing what happened to any of them.

  Fury choked Desi. “In the name of Jes
us, no!”

  Everyone turned to stare at her. The color washed from Romlin’s face. Gordon staggered backward, mouth agape.

  Tony smiled. “You go, babe.”

  Romlin growled, spittle showing at the edges of his mouth. “Let’s get this done. Now!” He strode to the central table where the knives lay.

  “But Archer” Gordon’s whine grated Desi’s raw nerves “This is supposed to be a solemn celebration. Not rushed. We don’t want to diminish the efficacy of the sacrament.”

  “Sit. Down.”

  At the snarled command, Gordon sniffled, backed away, and sat on the bench.

  Romlin’s gaze traveled the room. “Sit. All of you.” The other Red Robes found places.

  The Reverend closed his eyes and took deep breaths. His face settled into a mask of calm. “That’s better.” He opened his eyes and shook himself, as if emerging from a bad dream. His stare bored in on Desi. Karen cowered against her, and the baby whimpered in his sleep.

  Romlin picked up a knife, then looked toward the room where he had changed clothes. “Mayburn, help Jack and George bind the sacrifices to the altars.”

  Gordon’s lanky assistant stepped out of the anteroom, and Tony jerked.

  “What the—? You’re behind bars.”

  Gordon leaped up. “What are you doing here? Haven’t you caused enough trouble?”

  Mayburn pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Bail, my friends. My true boss—” he nodded at Romlin—”is a wealthy man.”

  Gordon spluttered. “Reverend Romlin, what have you to do with this … this thief! He embezzled money from Gordon Corp. He—”

  “Obtained the sacred instruments.” Romlin lifted the knife in his hand. “Didn’t he deserve extra compensation?”

  Gordon’s jowls trembled. “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem.

  “All is well.” The Reverend held out the drinking pot, a saccharine smile twisting his features. “Regain your inner peace, and prepare yourself for the ceremony.”

  Gordon took the jar. “Yes, of course. You have your eye on the important thing, as usual.” He gulped from the container.

  Romlin guided the big man toward a spot on the bench.

  Tony glared at Mayburn. “You and Romlin don’t believe any of this, but you’re going along for kicks? You’re sicker than I thought.”

  Mayburn’s cold smile stretched his lips. “I’ve seen a lot, but never watched anyone eaten. Besides—” his voice dropped to a whisper Desi had to strain to hear—”Gordon’s going to sign a check for 2 million dollars to Inner Witness Ministries after the ceremony’s over. Then we bulldoze this place with everyone inside, and no one ever knows what happened to any of you.”

  Romlin hustled up and turned savage eyes on his hired help. “Be quiet, or you can stay down here, too.”

  Mayburn paled and faded into the shadows.

  Nostrils flaring, the Reverend turned toward the waiting Red Robes and lifted his arms. “Are you ready to receive the Feast of the Lamb, a sacrament of healing for your flesh and exaltation of the spirit?”

  The Red Robes answered as one. “We are!”

  “Hold it a second!” Everyone looked at Tony. “A last request. Romlin, whatever your beliefs, or lack of them, you’re licensed to perform marriages.” He turned his gaze on Desi. “Will you marry me, sweetheart?”

  Desi’s heart stuck in her throat, and heat zinged to her toes. Better than any drug. ‘You want to marry me? I wondered … I mean, I didn’t know … ” Joy sang in her veins. She could be dead meat—literally—in a few minutes, but right now she wanted to dance.

  Tony smiled. “I’ve always wanted to marry you. I was waiting to ask until I thought you’d say yes. Guess this is my last chance to find out.”

  “You drive me nuts sometimes, Lucano, but I can’t imagine a future without you. Yes, I’ll marry you. Only—” she looked at a gaping Romlin, and her joy dimmed—”he’s lower than a rat’s toenail. I don’t want him performing the ceremony.”

  Romlin moved forward, knife in hand. “Good, because I’m not going to.”

  Gordon cleared his throat and rose, blinking glazed eyes. “Reverend Romlin, you are a minister able to perform all manner of sacred rites.” He nodded toward Desi. “As she is prepared to give her all to us, the least we can do is grant her happiness in her last earthly moments. Any less would dishonor the Feast.”

  Romlin uttered a crude word under his breath. “As you wish, Ham.” He made a tiny bow toward the big contributor, then scowled at Desi and Tony. “But it’s going to be the quickest wedding in history.”

  Desi glared back. “I don’t want—”

  “It’s okay, hon,” Tony said. “We watched The African Queen together a couple weeks ago. Remember? Humphrey Bogart and Katherine Hepburn didn’t mind that a Nazi navy captain performed their ceremony.”

  “You paid attention? I thought you slept through half of it in my dad’s easy chair.”

  “I didn’t miss the ending.” He sent her a lopsided grin.

  Desi expelled a long breath. “Okay, you’ve got yourself a wife, Mr. Lucano.”

  Tony stepped up beside her, and no one stopped him. “I’m honored, Mrs. Lucano-to-be.”

  Desi motioned Karen to come forward. “You can be my bridesmaid.” The woman edged toward her, bewildered comprehension dawning on her face. Tony nodded toward Brent. He hurried to stand beside his wife, battered face fixed on her and the baby He said her name. She looked down, biting her lip, but her body swayed toward him.

  Archer Romlin glowered and ground out the words. “Dearly beloved—”

  “Could you put down the weapon while you marry us?” Desi pointed to his hand.

  Romlin flushed, but laid the knife on the table. He jerked his chin at Desi. “Not another word from you except I do.” He turned a glare on Tony. “It’s tempting to let you both live so you have to live with her.” He started the ceremony again.

  The words were devoid of warmth or originality, but Tony gazed into her face like the hosts of heaven were their guests, and the Lord Himself performed their union. Desi’s heart did more amazing acrobatics than when she clung for dear life to the Tate Gallery wall. Her smile hurt wonderfully.

  Tony’s “I do” held more conviction than an umpire making a call at a Sox game. Oh, boy, she was even starting to think like him.

  Her turn now, but her throat closed up. “I do.” The words squeaked out.

  “You may kiss the bride,” Romlin snarled.

  Tony stared down at her, hands trapped behind his back, eyes sad and strong. She went up on her bare toes. He leaned toward her. Their lips touched, held, sealed.

  People began to cough. Odd reaction. Weeping would be good. More coughing. An acrid stench permeated the room and grew stronger.

  Desi pulled away from Tony Water poured from her eyes. She coughed. His chest heaved, and he wheezed a moan.

  “The … cavalry.” He choked. “Knife. Untie.”

  She stared around, but could see little from the haze filling the room and the tears clouding her vision. Hacking, she headed for a dark blob she thought was the table. Her toe found the leg. She gritted her teeth and groped around the top. Yes, here. Her hands closed on the knife. Ouch! Wrong end. She found Tony and did her best to slice his bonds without slicing him.

  A stampede toward the ladder began.

  “Brent! Where are you?”

  “Here.” The voice came from nearby.

  She grabbed him and cut his ropes. “Take … Karen and Adam.”

  “I’ve got them … and I’m … not letting go.” The little huddle of coughing bodies disappeared into the murk.

  A deep rumble began outside the kiva. The ground shook. Dirt fell.

  “Mrs. Lucano?” Tony’s voice carried over the bedlam.

  She couldn’t find him in the murk. Bodies bumped her and thrust her into the wall. The roar grew louder. Daylight poured down as the roof hatch opened and people poured out. Visibility improved, but the roar became
an earsplitting din.

  Desi edged around the kiva wall. Her foot hit something soft. She knelt and found a body, breathing but unconscious. Someone trampled in the stampede to get out.

  Dark-suited figures in face masks clambered into the kiva. A pair of them grabbed a staggering figure, who gave another hoarse call. “Mrs. Lucano!”

  “Help! Over here.” Desi went into a coughing fit.

  Several of the masks headed her direction. The air continued to clear, but the burning in Desi’s lungs went on. Her eyes streamed tears.

  Dark figures reached her. One tapped her on the shoulder and pointed toward the ladder. The other two hefted the unconscious person. Desi darted for fresh air. She reached the bottom of the ladder as one of the rescuers pushed Tony out the opening. Desi followed. That husband of hers wasn’t going to get far without her by his side.

  Her head popped out into glaring sunlight and pristine desert air. She lunged out the hole, then tumbled and rolled down the side of the kiva onto the hot sand. Spitting grit, she sat up.

  Mirage! She had to be seeing things. Desi wiped her eyes. Holy cow!

  FBI SWAT swarmed the grounds in their labeled flak jackets, and the Air Force circled in helicopters. Law enforcement ATVs surrounded the kiva. A man she recognized as Officer Swamp Eyes of the APD snapped cuffs on the hand-bandaged goon. And there was Sergeant Seciwa of the tribal police in hot pursuit of a fleeing Archer Romlin.

  Oooh! Great tackle!

  What about her husband and her friends? There!

  Karen and Brent clung together, kissing each other’s faces and clutching a wailing Adam between them. Poor little guy, that tear gas had to be hard on him. Desi’s heart expanded, and tears came that had nothing to do with toxic fumes. A family with a chance for a new start.

  But where was her new start?

  Desi stood, brushed off her robe, and scanned the area. A handcuffed Hamilton Gordon was led away, blubbering, along with other red-robed figures and a pasty-faced Chris Mayburn. Men in masks emerged from the kiva, carrying a limp Hope between them. Still no Tony.

  A helicopter touched down nearby, and Agent Ortiz hopped out. She waved at Desi and approached. A second figure leaped from the aircraft, red hair flying as she raced toward her daughter and family They pulled Jo into the group hug.