Whirlwind (Rachel Hatch Book 8)

by L T Ryan

  Hatch felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Savage. "We've got to get down," he hollered over the howl of the wind.

  She rounded the front of the cabin to see that The Shepherd was still alive. His arm was draped around Thorpe, who helped carry him inside. Savage and Hatch raced to the door.

  They made their way down into the cellar lair where Kyla Green had been held captive. Hatch pulled the hidden door closed, casting them in darkness as the destructive force of nature ripped through the cabin above.

  Twenty-Nine

  The howl of wind subsided. The thunderous calamity gave birth to a numbing silence. Ben held his daughter close and offered a guiding hand as she ascended from the basement ahead of him. The tornado had torn down the cabin, leaving nothing but its foundation. Its boards lay strewn among the littered trees and debris, coating the clearing where the cabin had long stood.

  Hatch reached a hand in and helped pull The Shepherd out of the hole. He’d bandaged his wound with a makeshift field dressing created from the sheet that had covered Kyla's bed of hay. Fortunately, the curved end of Mathias's blade had met The Shepherd's ribcage, forcing the blade outward rather than inward.

  Hatch walked over to a pile of broken boards where Mathias had fallen. She cleared away the splintered pieces, exposing the area underneath. Her heart skipped a beat when she didn't see him on the ground where he'd fallen. Frantic, Hatch visually swept the area. Her eyes came to rest on a mass of white hovering fifteen feet off the ground and shrouded by the surrounding foliage.

  Mathias's white tunic was caught up in the branches of a distant tree, the wood end of the staff still protruding from the center of his chest.

  Hatch approached, with the rest following in a staggered procession behind her. They formed a semicircle at the tree's base and stared at the body suspended above. Mathias was twisted, his arms intertwined with the branches that he hung from.

  Savage took a step closer, inspecting the sandal-less foot. He turned to Thorpe, who was already using his cell phone to photograph the scene.

  "Looks like you’ve found your Twister Man," Savage said while pointing to the exposed flesh above the right ankle where several white scarred pock marks peppered the back of his calf. "Looks like Blackmore's father's birdshot had indeed found its mark."

  Thorpe was speechless, but Hatch saw in his expression that a great weight had been lifted from the man's thin shoulders. The Shepherd came up alongside Hatch and leaned close.

  Hatch looked at the jagged end of the broken staff protruding through Mathias's chest, then turned her attention to the holy man standing beside her. "I guess I had you pegged wrong."

  "Judgement is always best left to the Lord." His voice was softer, less preachy. "I, too, may have been quick to judge." He offered a smile.

  "Sorry about back there—earlier—in the woods," Hatch said.

  "Under the circumstances, I'd say you put the staff to better use than I ever could." She shot a glance at what was left.

  "What were you doing out there last night?" Hatch asked.

  "The same thing I did every night since Moon Dancer disappeared. Walking the stream and calling out to her." The Shepherd looked over at the little girl, attached to the hip of the father she had just been reunited with.

  "Shepherd." Kyla's voice was that of a songbird, lyrical and light. "I heard your call. I knew you were there in the dark."

  The Shepherd bent low to receive the girl as she left her father to embrace the leader in a hug. He favored his wound as he wrapped one arm around her. Kyla peeked up from under his damp tunic and looked at him. "Shepherd, I have something to confess."

  "What's that, my dear?"

  "When I thought all hope was lost, I prayed to the stars. I prayed that the hunter Orion would come down and be my savior."

  "There is no shame in praying to the stars. For He has made all things, near and far. To include the stars that line the heavens." The Shepherd leaned closer. "Then I have something to confess to you too."

  Kyla's face drew up in surprise.

  "When my prayers to bring you home seemed to have fallen on deaf ears, I cried out to the heavens and prayed to the archangel, Michael. I called upon the battle angel to descend from his perch and destroy any who may have brought harm to you." The Shepherd straightened, releasing the child back to her father as he looked to Hatch. "I called on God's most trusted soldier to bring her back. And it seems He chose you."

  Marigold came and stood beside Hatch. The Shepherd patted her blonde head. "It seems that our little Marigold could see in you all along what I could not. Blind faith is a much easier leap for the mind of a child. "

  The girl smiled at The Shepherd and then turned her bright eyes to Hatch. "I knew you were special that first day when I saw you."

  Hatch bent low, bringing her face close to the girl's, and taking her hands in hers. "I knew you were special, too. And brave. Both of you." Hatch looked at Kyla. "So incredibly brave."

  "What will you do now?" Hatch asked The Shepherd as she stood facing the tornado’s aftermath on the cabin handed down from Glenn Miller to his one true follower, Mathias.

  "This is one house we will not rebuild." Bending low, he reached down to the ground, picked up a long stick and set off towards the commune. "I must tend to my flock."

  Hatch and the group followed him over the small hill. As they approached, Hatch saw that all ten wooden houses remained untouched. The destructive path stopped just outside the boundary of the closest shelter.

  Hatch saw The Shepherd's followers slowly emerging from their homes, having weathered the storm. Dorothy Green stepped from a house and stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of her daughter walking hand in hand with Ben. She freed the Scottie nestled in the fold of her arm and the dog tore off toward Kyla. Green broke into a run as she followed close behind.

  "Toto!" Kyla squealed. She bent low, catching the small black dog in her arms.

  Green swooped her daughter into her arms and wept openly as she pulled her close. She looked over the little girl's shoulder at Ben and reached out an arm, pulling him into the circle.

  The clouds disintegrated as light crept in from the east and the sunrise shone on a new day.

  Thirty

  Hatch sat across from Savage in the same booth they'd shared the previous day, her clothes still damp from the night's storm. Hatch warmed herself with Clem’s hot coffee, although another storm was brewing, and she could see it coming in Savage's eyes.

  "It looks like you solved your case. Well, cases." Hatch said.

  Savage took a sip from his mug and nodded. "Thorpe found some things in Mathias's hidden lair that proved promising. There was an old Bible, handwritten, though the additions were dark. Best we can make of it so far is Miller and Mathias sought Eternal Light by stealing the souls of those young girls at their point of transcendence."

  "Sick." Hatch thought of the Rise ceremony. With the shroud of mystery lifted from the Eternal Light, she saw it for what it was, a celebration of a girl's journey into womanhood. The thought of the twisted minds capable of perverting it into something horrific would've been unfathomable had Hatch not witnessed it firsthand.

  "There was a hand-drawn map in the back of the book. The dots along the map stretched from north-central Tennessee, forming a misshapen figure eight, like the infinity symbol of The Shepherd. Only one dot remained to close out the pattern."

  "The cabin?" Hatch asked.

  Savage nodded. “The Wilson County Sheriff's Office is going to have their hands full with dig sites. I'm going to stick around for a couple days and help Thorpe wrap some things up. You could stick around, too, if you wanted.”

  "I can't. I've got a funeral to go to."

  Savage looked away from Hatch and down at the table between them. Picking up a butter knife, he divided the last piece of cornbread, offering half to Hatch. "You know, Clem might've been right about me."

  "How's that?"

  "He called me a tin man. Maybe
I am."

  Hatch chuckled as she took up her half of the cornbread. "Oh, really?"

  Savage didn't smile. His face was serious again as he looked across at Hatch. "I've realized something in seeing you again. I need a heart. To make me whole, I need you, Hatch." Before she could form the words to respond, Savage continued. "I already know what you're going to say. But I just wanted you to know."

  "Tin man." Hatch repeated the words and smiled. "If that's true, and we already have a Dorothy, then I guess that makes me the Wicked Bitch of the West."

  Savage nearly spit his cornbread as he choked out a laugh. "I think it would take a lot more than a bucket of water to stop you."

  An awkward silence followed the laughter as the two finished the last of the food. "Thorpe's a hell of a guy. I put the bug in his ear about coming out to Hawk's Landing when this thing is all done. Told him I've got a spot for him if he wants. There are two spots actually." He cocked his lips into a half-smile. "Any time you're ready."

  Hatch felt her face warm and brought her mug up to mask it. "Things are complicated now."

  "Is there someone else?"

  "It's more than that."

  Even indirectly answering the question, she saw the pain in Savage's face, and it crushed her.

  "Aren't you ready to hang it up yet and come home? The fight is over. Every good soldier should have a homecoming. When's yours?"

  "I've got to close some things from my past before I can ever truly come home."

  "Then I'll wait for you. Forever if I need to."

  "Forever is a long time."

  "An eternity of wishing you in my life is better than one without hope."

  Clem approached the table. The milk white of his mustache curved into a smile. "This is going to be it for you, Hatch?"

  "Afraid so."

  "Did you get your story?"

  "I got to the truth."

  His mustache straightened as he smiled. "I guess you can't ask for much more than that. Where's the next big story taking you?"

  "That depends which way the wind blows."

  Hatch said her goodbyes to Clem. He refused to accept any money from her, so she slipped it underneath her empty mug. She and Savage walked outside where Thorpe waited in his Chevy Suburban with its damaged front end.

  Savage and Hatch faced each other on the curb outside of Clem's diner. His salt and pepper hair blew in the breeze and carried his familiar scent. His eyes bore deep into her soul, and she felt her heart flutter in the silent exchange between them. Without warning, Savage pulled Hatch close and kissed her.

  His lips met hers. Behind the tenderness was a passion. One Hatch felt powerless to resist. The image of Cruise skirted her mind, but feeling Savage pressed against her, she relented to the power of the moment. The kiss lasted only seconds, but the sensation of it lingered.

  Savage separated himself, squeezing his hands gently against her arms. "You know where to find me when you're ready."

  With that, Savage turned away, looking back once before getting into Thorpe’s SUV. The Suburban rattled as Thorpe drove away. Hatch's eyes followed Savage until he was out of sight.

  Down the long stretch of highway, she saw a slow procession of white heading into town led by The Shepherd, walking with the help of his new staff. As they came to Main Street, white tunics broke off to the various homes and businesses lining the way and began offering help in repairing the damage caused during the night.

  Hatch saw Ben Tracy among them, wearing a white tunic and sandals. He waved and smiled. Hatch greeted him. Kyla was close by with her small black Terrier on a leash beside her.

  "I said I'd do anything for my daughter, and if that means joining the Eternal Light, then I will. I can't thank you enough for what you've done. Tell my brother the same and tell him I'm okay." He looked back at his daughter and Dot. "Actually, tell him I'm not the brainless wonder he remembers. For the first time in a long time, my mind is clear, and my heart is full."

  "I will." Hatch eyed the tunic. "So, you're really giving this thing a go?"

  " I see a future that I didn't before. As long as I'm with them, I know I can't go astray. What are you going to do now?"

  "Maybe I'll try to find some of that peace for myself."

  "God knows you've earned it."

  Hatch said goodbye to Kyla as she and her father headed across the street. She watched the family, reunited again as the winds of change showed Hatch that anything was possible.

  As she was getting into her Jeep, Marigold ran up to her. She had a fresh bouquet of flowers and handed it to Hatch.

  "You are such a bright light,” The girl told Hatch.

  Marigold wrapped her arms around Hatch's waist and hugged her tightly. Hatch rubbed a gentle hand across the top of the girl's head, absorbing the child's embrace.

  "I wish you could stay." Marigold looked up at her with wet eyes. "But I know there are others who need you. They don't know it yet, but when they cry out in the darkness, you will light the way."

  The girl wiped her face. Hatch placed a gentle kiss on her head. Marigold then scurried off and took up by The Shepherd. The leader of the Eternal Light smiled at Hatch and set off for a damaged building across the way.

  Hatch drove out of Jericho Falls, leaving the wake of destruction behind her.

  Thirty-One

  The sermon ended. It had been about God's need for good soldiers and when their deeds were done, He would call them home. The delivery reminded Hatch much of what she had seen and heard from The Shepherd.

  A hushed silence fell upon the small group around the casket raised above the open earth. The mourners consisted of Talon teammates and former operators who had served with Taylor in the military Special Operations community.

  Hatch's eyes rested on the widow seated in a folding chair a few feet away from her husband’s casket. Her body was rigid, and she held back a tidal wave of tears, holding strong for the two young girls at each side, whose sobs penetrated Hatch's heart like an arrow.

  Cruise stepped forward. His athletic build showed through his suit, his normal cocky swagger reduced by somberness. Approaching the casket, he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a shiny gold trident, the SEAL emblem pinned to operators upon completion of SEAL training, a badge of honor worn signifying their entrance into the frogman brotherhood.

  It was a sacred totem honoring those underwater demolition men who gave birth to the SEAL, the gold eagle, and its trident, representing a unique symbol of eternity. Cruise raised it high in his hand, the gold plating catching the late afternoon California sun as it set. He slammed it down on the lacquered wood of the casket. A loud thud echoed, releasing the tears Taylor's widow had fought desperately to restrain. Cruise lifted his hand. The trident remained, pinned to the wood, carrying forward the brotherhood into the afterlife.

  Cruise paused for a moment. A silent exchange took place between the living and the dead as Cruise rested his palm against the wood. Standing erect, he turned toward a serviceman wearing Class A and white gloves standing beside the priest. Cruise walked over and received the flag that had been draped over the casket during the service and was now folded into a tight triangle. He placed one hand on the top and one on the bottom as he took the flag.

  Cruise walked to Taylor's wife and children. Each step harder than the preceding one. He stopped in front of the grieving family. He took a kneeling position in front of the widow. "On behalf of a grateful nation," Cruise's voice broke. His cobalt blue eyes grew brighter as tears formed. He extended the folded flag. The widow released her grip on her children, accepting the flag and embracing Cruise in her arms. Hatch watched as the two held each other tightly.

  She thought of Graham Benson and how she had never fully repaid that debt, never looked his children in the eye, never faced his widow, never told her what really happened that day. That Hatch's hesitation had taken her husband away from her and their children.

  The scar of that day that twisted its lines along her right ar
m from her wrist to her shoulder was nothing to the scar she carried inside, one she needed to close if she was ever to move forward.

  As the service ended, Jordan Tracy approached Hatch. " I can't thank you enough for what you did for my family."

  "I'm sure you'd do it for mine."

  "That's how it works."

  "Not that it's my place to say, but your brother is a good man. He may have had some dark times, but he's really trying to put them behind him."

  "I know. My wife, Emily, and I were never able to have children of our own. She's excited about the prospect of doting on her newly discovered niece." He smiled in the direction of his wife. "We're planning a visit in the near future."

  "I'm sure he'd appreciate it."

  "Speaking of future…it looks like we'll be up and running soon. The incident in Alaska has been cleared by the powers that be. And that means we're back in rotation once the team has healed up. With Banyan, we'll be at full strength."

  "Banyan joined up?"

  "He did. He said something about wanting to work with the woman who almost bested his O-course time."

  Hatch saw Banyan lingering in the crowd. Tracy moved on toward Taylor's widow. She approached Banyan, who was lingering under the shade of a tree.

  "Hey, I wanted to thank you." Hatch said.

  "For what?" Banyan asked.

  "That tip you gave me on the O-course. It came in handy."

  "How so?"

  "Long story, better over a couple beers."

  "The best ones always are."

  "So you came on board?" Hatch asked.

  "I guess I'm ready for life's next adventure. You sticking around?"

  "Looks that way. For now, at least."

  Hatch made her way to Cruise. The tears had been wiped from his face, but his damp lashes outlined the blue of his eyes. As he offered a half smile, she thought of Savage and the kiss he stole.