Countdown (8 page)

“James?” In the darkness, her voice sounded so soft, so soothing and so vulnerable.

“Yes?”

“When you tied up those men... Did you think to check them for any identification?”

He nodded. “They were clean. No wallet. No NSA badges or driver's licenses. I imagine they kept it in their car. I probably should've checked the sedan, as well, but I didn't think of it.”

“How'd they find us?”

The question served as bolt of lightning, jump-starting his brain. He'd been operating on pure emotion and instinct. Rare for him, but so was having his children hunted by gunmen. How
did
they find them? The black sedans he'd seen on the freeway... He'd lost them. Or had they let him think that so they could take him by surprise?

He replayed driving through the subdivision and into the church parking lot. No, they hadn't been following him. He'd been alert and watching. They wouldn't have let them wait that long before going after them, either, if they were that close. Would they?

His dashboard glowed with LCD numbers. The display switched between the temperature and the compass, telling him they were heading due north. He'd told himself those men couldn't possibly be real NSA agents. They were crooks with a leak, able to hear NSA whisperings but not really with the resources the agency could provide. But what if they didn't need NSA resources at all? His breath turned hot.

He didn't want the next exit, but if he had any chance of keeping his children or Rachel safe, they needed to get off as soon as possible. The straight line of the freeway made them easy bait. He flipped on his turn signal and slipped over into the right lane. “Rachel, this is my fault.”

“Don't start,” she said. “You didn't make those men come after us.”

“No, but I sure made it easier.”

“What do you mean?”

He glanced sideways at her, wondering if she could handle the truth. He needed her to stay strong and calm. “This is a company car.” Saying the words made him furious with himself for not seeing the truth sooner.

He pulled off the freeway but could feel her stare.

“What are you trying to say?”

“It can only mean one thing. We're being tracked.”

EIGHT

R
achel pressed her spine into the back of her seat. James didn't decrease his speed as he took the spaghetti-bowl exit. She dug her fingernails into either side of the seat. “I don't see how almost getting us killed will help.”

He pressed the brake. “I want to get us somewhere as fast as possible where we can dump the car.”

They passed several fast-food joints on the right, but the part of town didn't look familiar. “Do you know where we are?”

“A couple of miles from Derrick's house.” He sighed. “I think we need to go by foot.” He pointed to a car wash a block up ahead. “I took the boys on a long bike ride on the trails a few weeks back and got turned around up here. Had to look at the map to find my way back. The trail ends at Derrick's subdivision, a few blocks away from his house.”

James looked at the rearview mirror. The traffic had dissipated with the later hour, especially in this part of town. In an uncharacteristic move, he took the turn without signaling. They slipped into a dimly lit stall of the self-serve car wash.

She squinted, trying to see past the rows of bushes beyond the stall. “Are you sure there's a trail back there?”

“Yes. And, hopefully, unless they know this area well, they won't think to pursue us on foot.” He cringed and clicked his phone on. “I need to make yet another big ask. I think we need to leave our phones here.”

Oh, no. Ask her anything but that. “You think they can track my phone?”

He shrugged. “I don't know, Rachel. I'm trying to eliminate the options.” He flipped open his contacts. “I think I've committed to memory all the numbers I'll need.”

“My salon,” she said. “I have clients coming tomorrow. Saturday is a big day for me.”

He nodded. “Can you make a call from here and get some backup before ditching the phone?”

Could she? She considered the salon her baby. She'd built the business from the ground up. Only in the last two years had she bit the bullet and expanded into a new location complete with other stylists. She'd never asked anyone else to step in for her.

Her receptionist, Carly, had just started working for her three months prior and though she peppered Rachel daily with requests for more projects, Rachel had never taken her up on it. It seemed wiser to handle everything but scheduling appointments.

She swallowed and found James staring at her. His knee bounced up and down. “We have to hurry. They could be here any minute.”

“But they took a decent amount of time to find us in the church.”

He tapped the steering wheel. “I took a convoluted route to get there and we hid the car in a shed that would've diminished the signal. They had a lot to check before breaking into the church. I know I wouldn't have broken in if I weren't sure. So try to make it quick.”

“How long do you think it'll be until I can go back to normal?” she asked.

He leaned forward until the top of his forehead rested against the steering wheel. “Two hours ago I'd have said within the day. Now, I don't know. I'm sorry I can't give you any definitive answers.”

She pulled up her contact list and pressed Carly's number. As soon as Carly answered, Rachel kept it short and to the point. She asked Carly to reschedule all of next week's appointments and, aside from asking if everything was okay, Carly surprised her by saying it'd be no problem.

“Okay,” James said. “You need to take the battery and the SIM card out of the phone so they can't access any of your contacts. Then I'll snap the SIM cards and throw it all in the trash.”

She frowned but removed the backing of her phone “If there is a possibility they're tracking our phones, can't we put the phones on someone else's bumper?”

“It's good thinking, except I don't want these guys targeting innocent bystanders.” He turned his own phone over, flicked off the casing and pulled the battery out.

She didn't want anyone in danger, either. Still, it seemed like it'd be a better idea to lead them farther away from their true destination. “Does the river happen to get near the trail?”

His fingers hesitated over the SIM card. A slow grin crossed his features, the light reflecting off his white teeth. “Yes. And we need to go upriver.”

“So we float our phones downriver.” She unzipped her purse but hesitated to stick her hand inside since the gun still rested in there. If only they had something guaranteed to float. She snapped her fingers. “Snack container.”

James hit the latch to the console and it popped open. “Perfect.” He removed the rectangular box and dumped out the raisins into her hands. “It'll be tight if we want the lid on it. We'll have to slip them in diagonally on their side.”

She reassembled her phone and placed it inside. “Now let's get it to the river and pray it works.”

“Amen,” James answered.

His voice sounded so sincere. “Did we just pray?” she asked.

“I find it more efficient to pray than to talk about praying. Let's get moving.”

She moved almost on autopilot. The storage container didn't fit in her purse next to the gun, but she managed to get it halfway inside. Since she had a gun, she left the bat in the car and threw her backpack on.

The boys didn't blink when she opened the passenger door, even with the interior lights blazing. Caleb seemed twice the weight as she tried to maneuver him into her arms. She'd heard a mother tell her boy not to go “boneless” on her, and now Rachel understood why. She grunted as she pulled him out of the car and up into her arms.

James managed to carry Ethan, his backpack and Ethan's miniature pack at the same time.

She had to shift Caleb to her hip to do so, but she managed to grab his little bag, too. Caleb made a soft sigh and adjusted, moving his arms around her neck. Her chest expanded with tenderness for the little guy. She'd apparently earned his trust, and it meant the world to her. Or did he have the type of childhood that he trusted all adults? That question would need to be unpacked later.

They met in front of the car. James pointed out a small section between the bushes that they could step past. Moving from the lit city into a dark trail system made her heart jolt.

Safety and control had been her top priorities these last years. As she stepped past the curb into the foliage, it seemed she was leaving her life behind. The gentle breeze brought the scents of bricklebush, sage and primrose.

James took the lead then stopped and held out his left hand while he held Ethan in his right arm. “There's a steep incline here.”

Her left arm gripped Caleb tight as she accepted his hand. Their eyes connected, and Rachel's mouth went dry.

“You doing okay?” he asked, his voice gentle.

She blinked. “Yes.” He held her hand as he guided her down the damp grass hill. Given the lack of rain in California she assumed the sprinklers had been run recently. She felt the bumpy pavement underneath the thin soles of her canvas shoes. His fingers slipped from her palm, and an involuntary shiver ran up her spine.

The sound of rushing water complimented the jostling leaves and tree branches above. “We're close.”

He pointed. “There's a small slope to the water.”

“Can you hold Caleb for a moment?”

He nodded. “You sure you don't want me to do it?”

“I've got it.”

He took Caleb into his left arm with ease. Seeing him hold the boys in either arm reminded her of the moment he'd grabbed them from the white van. Had it really been a few hours ago? It seemed like days. The incline to the water wasn't steep, but her eyes strained to see beyond the shadows the trees and bushes created.

The hill bottomed out and her shoes stuck slightly in the dirt. The clouds moved and the moon illuminated the rippling water. Her skin tingled with heightened sensitivity. Every insect and bird call set her on edge. Even though James stood right above the slope, she couldn't see him.

Her fingers wrapped around the container. She bent down to steady the box. Her muscles refused to move faster, even though she should've been done by now. She shivered. Being alone, exposed in the night, her eyes wouldn't stop darting around the area, searching, looking for danger.

The cool water sloshed onto her fingertips.
Please help this go far and lead them away from us.
She lifted her fingers and watched the box rock back and forth before it got pulled into the current.

The mother of Moses set her baby in a basket down the river in hopes he'd float to safety. Did she watch the basket float down the river, praying? Rachel had only known Caleb and Ethan a short while, but she cared enough for them that she couldn't imagine doing the same thing, trusting God enough. Maybe that proved once again she didn't have what it took to be a mom.

The box slipped through the reflection of the moon and then disappeared from her view.

“Rachel.” His urgent whisper cut through the sounds of nature. Her shoulders jerked back, and she sprinted up the hill to James.

* * *

His biceps and back already felt the weight of the two children, but he pushed the discomfort from his mind.

Rachel crested the hill. “Is everything okay?” she whispered, looking over his shoulder.

“I heard a car door up there. We need to move.” He glanced at her hands. “Did it work?”

“The box is floating.”

Finally something went right. He set off on a fast-paced stride into the darkness. If the phone idea worked, they'd be free to approach Derrick's house safely once they rounded the bend and were out of sight.

Rachel shuffled to meet his pace. “Do you want me to take Caleb?” she whispered.

He shook his head. Any change in motion would slow them down, and he really didn't want to see who was behind the car-door noise. The crackling of branches up ahead from the breeze set his teeth on edge. He couldn't pinpoint the source of each noise.

Rachel pumped her arms like a power walker. In any other circumstances he'd find it cute. She looked over her shoulder. Her eyes widened. She grabbed a fistful of his sleeve and yanked him toward her with her other finger on her mouth.

James fought the need to look, but she'd seen something so he couldn't chance extra movements. He darted behind a Douglas fir. Shuffling and slapping feet grew closer.
Please let it be a late-night jogger.
Of course it'd be unwise for anyone to run alone at night on these trails, but it'd be better for them.

Rachel took a step farther into the trees. Either she wanted to feel more hidden, or she was trying to see who was making the noise on the trail. When she shifted, she brushed up against an evergreen branch. It jostled the other branches. One slid across Caleb's arm. He let out an aggravated soft cry.

James stiffened as Caleb shifted and fell back asleep. Rachel spun around, her hand placed over her mouth.

“You hear that?” A man's voice filtered through the trees.

James still had a gun in the back of his jeans. Like Rachel, he'd never used one. He'd participated in paintball wars and nail-gun shooting competitions with his brothers, though. Never before had a weapon been so close to his children. If he were going to reach for it, he'd need to give one of the boys to Rachel, but moving them could cause another outburst.

“Could've been one of those northern mockingbirds.”

“No, those things remind me of a cheap alarm clock.”

“Shh. They're on the move. Come on, before the signal gets weak again.”

So when James noticed his cell reception had dropped to one bar in the church, had their tracking signal suffered? Did that mean they weren't tracking the car, and he could go back to the vehicle? Of course, the car had been in an aluminum shed, which would've also decreased reception. He grunted. The risk wouldn't be worth it. For now, they needed to focus on their new destination.

He counted silently to one hundred, giving the men enough time to be out of earshot before moving back to the path. Rachel reached for him and shook her head. The moon filtered through the woods around them and shined on her royal blue eyes.

She tiptoed away from him, away from the path, and disappeared into the darkness. He pursed his lips. Even if he'd wanted to object, he couldn't. What was she doing? Following the men? He debated following her, but taking the boys deeper into the trees was asking for a branch to the face. He turned to find her in front of him. He inhaled a sharp breath and clenched his jaw to hold in an exclamation. His heart raced. She must have gone clear around the tree.

She put a hand on her mouth and cringed in silent apology before she beckoned him to follow her with the other hand. His biceps and lower back weren't going to stay silent much longer, though. The strain of carrying two sleeping boys was easier to handle while in motion.

Rachel reached for Ethan and this time, he allowed her to take him. Thankfully, Ethan switched over to her without so much as a sigh. Ethan even snuggled into the small of her neck. His heart twisted at the sight.

James pulled back his shoulders, readjusted Caleb to distribute the weight more evenly, and took a tentative step toward the trail. He peeked around the pointy dark ends of the tree. Not so much as a shadow appeared on the path.

To stay on the safe side, they stuck to the right edge of the trail in a single-file line. It meant less shadows and an easier path into hiding if necessary. After a block worth of speed-walking, the trail bent farther away from the river. He slowed his pace ever so slightly and stepped to the side to walk with Rachel instead of in front of her.

Neither of them said a word, but the sounds of birds and crickets were surprisingly loud. He never thought of the trails as loud before, but as his senses were on high alert it made it hard to hear if someone was coming behind them. His eyes constantly assessed the dark shadows on either side. Every ten steps or so, Rachel looked over her shoulder.