Broken is the Grave

by Candle Sutton

  The keys shook in her hand as she inserted the first one into the lock. It didn’t fit.

  She moved to the second, then the third, then the fourth.

  Come on! She didn’t have this kind of time.

  She shot a glance over her shoulder.

  The rising and falling of Tobias’ chest told her that he clearly wasn’t dead. How had she missed that before?

  She tried another key. Finally, the sixth key turned.

  She didn’t think, didn’t question, just turned the knob and shoved the door open.

  A hallway stretched on either side of her.

  No doubt going to the right would dump her back in the room with the inmates.

  A low moan sounded behind her.

  No! She needed more time.

  She stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her, then used the key to relock it.

  It wouldn’t stop him, not even close, but it’d slow him down. Maybe buy her enough time to get away.

  Or at least hide. That might be her best option.

  She ran. The lingering effects of whatever drug he’d used earlier made her muscles lethargic, but thank God for adrenaline.

  Still, she was slower than usual, slower than she should be.

  Pounding sounded behind her.

  She glanced over her shoulder.

  The hallway was empty. For now. Once his head cleared, he’d probably get keys from the other guard and be on top of her.

  Shouting voices sounded from somewhere nearby.

  Maybe he was going to sic those inmates on her. Offer some twisted incentive to the one who caught her first.

  Drawing from reserves she didn’t realize she had, she picked up speed.

  The hallway made a sharp left.

  She slowed for the corner, then poured on the speed again.

  Each breath puffed from lungs that felt ready to explode. But stopping was suicide.

  The hallway spilled into a darkened room that felt cavernous. She fumbled alongside the door until her fingers found a switch, which she flicked up. A large, open room stretched around her. A massive rolling door occupied the far wall.

  Surely that led to the outside!

  How could she open it? She checked along the wall but saw no sign of anything that might open it.

  Her gaze flicked over wheeled cloth bins, a few garbage cans and a dumpster.

  An unmarked truck the size of a small moving van was parked in the middle of the room and a mound of boxes littered the far wall.

  Her eyes rested on the truck. Were the keys inside? Could that truck smash through the door, and maybe the gates surrounding the prison yard?

  It was her best bet.

  From somewhere behind her, footsteps pounded.

  He was after her!

  There was no time to open the loading door and get out. She had to hide.

  Unless she could make it to the truck. Then maybe she could get out before he reached her.

  She sprinted toward the vehicle and tried the handle.

  It opened.

  Evidently he’d felt no need to lock the truck inside the loading dock.

  She hauled herself inside.

  The keys weren’t in the ignition.

  She patted down the seats, checked the glovebox and center console, pulled down the visor.

  Nothing.

  Maybe it was on the ring!

  She flipped through the keys, looking for any that looked like a car key.

  No luck. They were all the same kind of key, keys that clearly operated various doors inside the prison.

  He had to be just about down the hallway by now.

  And the truck was the first place he’d look for her.

  She jumped out, closed the door, and rolled underneath the truck.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  Please, God. Don’t let him find me.

  But really, how could he not?

  She’d done nothing but delay the inevitable. Now he could kill her, hide her body in the truck, and drive her somewhere where he could dump her without anyone noticing.

  In many ways, she’d made his job that much easier.

  Footsteps echoed in the mostly empty space.

  She choked back a sob.

  This was it. She’d never see her kids…

  “Bethany? Are you in here?” A man’s voice bounced off the concrete floor.

  She held her breath.

  That wasn’t Tobias.

  “Bethany? Bethany!”

  That sounded like Zander!

  But that was impossible, wasn’t it?

  “Think we’re too late, kid?” Another man’s voice. Sounded older. Also slightly familiar.

  “We can’t be.” A ragged breath echoed. “Maybe she’s… somewhere. I don’t know.”

  It was Zander! She was sure of it.

  But she wasn’t ready to give away her position yet. Maybe this was some kind of trick, although she wasn’t sure how it could be.

  She crawled forward until she could peek out from under the truck.

  In the doorway, Zander turned to head back down the hallway.

  “Wait! Zander.” Her voice came out winded and weak, but Zander immediately turned toward her.

  “Bethany!”

  He jogged across the room as she wiggled out from under the truck.

  As he helped her to her feet, she no longer tried to hold back the tears. Sobs shook her as Zander put an arm around her shoulders.

  “Di-did yo-yo-you get hi-him?”

  It was a miracle that he even understood her fractured words, but she saw his blurry form nod. “We got him. It’s over.”

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Rafe rested his head in his hands and waited for the chills to pass. Detoxing was a bear. Doing it behind bars, even worse.

  For now, he waited in jail, but he knew prison was coming. Zander had told him as much.

  How could Zander sell him out? After all they’d been through? After all he’d done for Zander?

  The knowledge that Zander hadn’t really done anything wrong, that the blame rested solely upon himself, flashed through his head but he pushed it back.

  Zander should’ve done something to help him.

  He curled onto his side with a small groan.

  What he wouldn’t give for a hit. Even a small one.

  As if he knew he was on Rafe’s mind, Zander appeared on the other side of the bars. “How’re you doin’, bro?”

  Rafe didn’t look up. “Like you care.”

  The pause lasted for a heartbeat. “You know I do. If I could do anything… this was too big for me to fix. You know that.”

  Yeah, he knew it. Didn’t make it any better. “Just get outta here. Go live your perfect life with your new girlfriend.”

  He rolled over to face the wall, his stomach roiling within him.

  A scuff told him Zander was still there but he didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge.

  Finally, a sigh. “I’ll be back, bro. I’m praying for you.”

  “Save it. God doesn’t care about me. If He’s even there.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. He does care. And if you give Him half a chance, He’ll prove it.”

  Zander’s footsteps echoed down the silent hallway.

  Part of him wanted to beg Zander to come back, but he forced his tongue to stay silent.

  Who was Zander to come here and preach at him?

  If God was there, and if He really did care, then He’d have to find a way to prove it. Because right now, Rafe wanted nothing to do with Him.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Bethany opened her eyes to the steady beep of the heart monitor beside her bed. Zander had insisted she be taken to the hospital, which had admitted her due to a mild concussion.

  Sunlight streamed through her window, illuminating Zeke’s sleeping form in a blue plastic chair against the wall.

  Had he been here all night?

  Somehow, she didn’t doubt it. He seemed like the type to ca
mp out in hospital rooms.

  He blinked, focusing immediately on her. With a stretch, he rose and approached the bed. “How’re you feeling?”

  “All things considered?”

  In truth, she hurt everywhere. Her face throbbed, her muscles ached, and sharp pains bounced around inside her head.

  Yet the man who did this to her had been caught. The threat was finally over.

  Wasn’t it? She hadn’t simply dreamed that part, had she? “They got him, right?”

  Zeke nodded. “Yes. And with the evidence of the counterfeiting ring right there, he won’t be going anywhere.”

  Counterfeiting. So that’s what had been going on.

  “He’s talking, too.” Zander’s voice came from the doorway.

  She turned to face him. “Really? What’s he said?”

  “Details that I can’t share. But you should know that they recruited James while he was incarcerated because of his accounting background. They figured he’d be an asset, but once he was released, he gathered some evidence against them and disappeared. That’s why they killed him.”

  She wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or not. “And that’s why they needed me. They didn’t get the password from him before he died and it wasn’t anywhere in his personal effects.”

  Zander nodded. “We will need your statement, but you won’t need to testify. He’s already accepted a plea deal. It’s happening really fast, but the concern of his co-conspirators skipping the country was high. Turned in the warden and two other guards who were in on it, as well as the inmates they’d recruited to help run the operation.”

  “I can’t believe they were doing that inside the prison.”

  “It was pretty clever really.” Zander studied her for a second. “I hear they’re releasing you shortly. If you’re up to it, I’ll take you to the station, get your statement, then drop you at the boat.”

  “That’d be good. I’d like to see my kids.” Although she’d prefer that they not see her in this condition, there wasn’t much choice. She’d have to come up with a tame version of the truth so they didn’t have nightmares.

  Zander’s gaze shifted between her and Zeke. “I’m going to see if I can’t catch the doc and get this moving.”

  He was trying to give her and Zeke a little privacy. Heat touched her cheeks.

  Pausing at the door, Zander turned back to her. “Oh, you should know that the Secret Service have been after these guys for a while. There’s a reward on the table. Not sure how much, but it should be enough to help you get back on your feet.”

  A reward? Maybe that’d help her replace what Tobias had destroyed when he broke into her place.

  As Zander left the room, she turned back to Zeke. “I guess we can get out of your space now.”

  He took her hand and gently massaged it. “We’ll miss you and the kids. I’ll miss having you around.”

  How had it only been ten days since she’d met him? It felt like she’d known him forever. “Me, too. I’ll be sad to leave the boat.”

  “Can I… can I see you still? I’d really like…” He cupped her hand in both of his. “If it’s okay, I’d really like to see you personally. See if we have something.”

  She smiled. While not terribly articulate, she got the drift. Given his past – or lack thereof – it wasn’t so surprising that he didn’t know how to put these new feelings into words. “I’d like that. I think God brought you into my life for a reason.”

  A white grin brightened Zeke’s face. “I know He did. Why don’t we bring Him into this now?”

  Zeke’s speech turned from hesitant to eloquent as he prayed, thanking God for her, for her kids, and for protecting them all. He closed by asking God to lead them as they looked to the future, whatever that might bring.

  Had any man ever prayed as Zeke did? No man she’d ever known, that was for certain.

  When she opened her eyes, she found Zeke staring at her, a soft smile on his face.

  She drew in a deep breath. “I’m going to call my parents. Will you be there when I do?”

  “If you want me to be there, I’ll be there.” He traced a finger down her cheek. “I’ll always be there for you.”

  James had once said the same thing, then he’d abandoned her.

  Something told her she’d never have to worry about that with Zeke. She suspected there were a lot of things she’d never have to worry about with Zeke.

  God had blessed her with this unexpected friendship that held the potential to be so much more. Only God could take the brokenness of her life and turn it into something beautiful.

  Dedication and Acknowledgments

  Dedicated to Jesus Christ, who formed the world, stepped into His creation in order to redeem it, and will one day come again. Thank you for giving me words and assigning meaning to them.

  If it takes a village to raise a child, it takes a neighborhood to write a book. A huge thank-you to my “neighborhood”, who lovingly point out errors and inconsistencies, suggest improvements, and encourage me to persevere when I feel discouraged. I couldn’t do this without you. Linda, Del, and Janet – you are instruments of the Lord! I am blessed to have each of you in my life.

  To my friend and fellow author: Jamie Lee Grey. Thank you for being such an amazing editor and friend. You inspire me to be better, both in life and in writing. Readers, if you haven’t discovered the treasure of Jamie’s writing, you’re missing out! Find her on Amazon today!

  To each of you who read this book: thank you seems grossly inadequate. I appreciate the time you spent reading this story when you could have been doing something else. I’m humbled by those of you who have reached out to share your lives with me. May you experience the full blessings of the Lord as you live out the story He has written for YOUR life!

  Finally, to my God and my Lord. Thank you for giving me yet another story to share. Without You, I’d have nothing more than empty, worthless words. You are the ultimate author and all the novels in this world are but shadowy imitations of the stories You have written.

  A note from the author

  Thank you for joining me on this journey! Zeke intrigued me from the moment he stepped onto the page in Silent is the Grave, but what surprised me was how Bethany’s character took over this story. I know it sounds crazy, but when I first started this book, I didn’t anticipate Bethany becoming the star.

  What I’m really excited about, though, is sharing Josiah’s story with you. He’s an interesting guy and I know he has a crazy journey ahead of him in Empty is the Grave. Keep reading for a sneak peek at that novel, available late 2019.

  Do you want to be notified when I release a new book? Sign up for my newsletter at candlesutton.com to receive updates, as well as reading suggestions.

  If you enjoyed this novel, would you do me a favor and leave a review on Amazon? Reviews are a huge blessing to me and can help other readers decide if this book might be worth their time to check out. Thank you!

  If you subscribe to my newsletters, you may remember me mentioning that the subject of identity has really impacted me during the writing of this novel. This world slaps us with labels, seemingly at every turn, disguising our true identity behind how others see us.

  Take Bethany for example. Her labels could include poor, single mother, abandoned, or unwanted. Maybe you can even relate to those labels. You know the labels defining you better than anyone. Often those labels are derogatory, used by the enemy to bring us down. Loser. Failure. Worthless.

  Sometimes those labels go the other way. Maybe they include some of the following: successful, beautiful, talented, worthy, self-sufficient. We might even be identified by our education – or lack thereof – or our occupation. None of those things are bad, but if we stake our identity in them, we’re bound to be disappointed, for they don’t last.

  The only worthwhile labels are those that God gives us. We’re worthy because Jesus traded our sin for His righteousness. Success and talents are gifts from the Lord. Physical be
auty fades, but inner beauty comes from God and grows more beautiful with time.

  God also clearly tells us who we are in Him. Child of God, co-heir with Christ, valuable, priests, chosen, God’s special possession – the list goes on. We must choose to believe how God defines our identity and reject all other labels.

  We also have to be careful to not apply labels to those around us. How often do you see a homeless person and identify them by their status in life, rather than choosing to see them as a precious child of the King, made in the image of God? Or maybe it’s that annoying co-worker, or that family member who really grates on your last nerve, or that neighbor who is always poking into your business instead of minding their own. If you’re like me, you apply those labels without even thinking about it.

  How might our lives change if we shifted our perspective and chose to see ourselves – and the people around us – through God’s eyes? I believe we could change the world!

  Excerpt from Empty is the Grave

  Prologue

  The night belonged to the dead.

  Or so the legend went. On a night like this, he could believe it.

  Clouds shrouded the moon. A low moan echoed through the cracks in the building in front of him.

  A shiver danced down his neck.

  Might’ve been from the cold.

  Might’ve been something else entirely.

  He stopped abruptly, the hairs on his neck tingling. He shouldn’t be here. No living thing should be.

  Whispers surrounded him.

  His brain told him it was just the wind moving through the trees, but his heart said it was the voices of the souls who had never left this forsaken island.

  Seriously. What was he doing out here anyway?

  But he knew, didn’t he? He was out here because she had ordered it.

  And no one, absolutely no one, told her no.

  The curses streaming through his head never left his lips.

  No sense calling attention. From the living or the dead. Although, in spite of what he’d been told, he was beginning to doubt any of the former existed here.