Target

The Refuge, California. 1990

“T
ake the girls and go.”

“Now?” Nicholas asked. “Go where, Mom?”

“Wait here,” she told Muriel and Ena and beckoned for Nicholas to follow her to the back of the trailer where she and Colin slept. “I'll leave first. Then you take Muriel and Ena and get on the bus.”

Colin Fox was leader of the thirty-four-member north California commune where Nicholas had lived most of his life.

He thought of the old school bus Colin had brought back to the group a long time ago. Colin and the other men had taken out many of the seats and painted the vehicle green. Nicholas knew what it drove to “market” and it wasn't vegetables. Colin was his mother's partner, but not Nicholas's father.

“You'll get to the bus first?” Nicholas said. “Why can't we all go together?”

“I won't be there at all. I have to be somewhere else.”

Nicholas breathed through his mouth. “No,” he said. His hands tingled and he made fists. “Tell me what's going on. When will you catch up with us?”

“I've told you this is the only way I can keep you safe until we're past the dangerous time.”

“What
is
the dangerous—”

“Please, Nicholas.” She reached beneath the bed. “There isn't time for discussion.”

He crossed his arms tightly and waited until his mother got to her feet again.

She stood quietly before him, looking into his face, with a regular-size envelope and a larger, padded one in her hands. “When you're on the bus, read this.” She showed him the smaller envelope with his name written in her big, round hand. “You must keep these safe. Don't show them to anyone but Delia Board in Savannah.”

“Savannah, Georgia?” Nicholas said, struggling not to panic. He had only seen the place on a map and it was a long way from California. “You want me to drive the bus to Georgia, to a woman I've never even heard of before?”

Mary Chance stared, and then she blinked. “No. I'm sorry, I'm not explaining this well enough. Put this money in your pocket.” She gave him a roll of bills. “Take your bikes and make sure you're not seen. Get to town. You know the way well enough. Find the Greyhound bus station. Don't speak to anyone. Nick, give the girls the money, and each of you buy your tickets separately. Don't stand together. Get on the bus as if you don't know each other and sit separately. Do not travel as a threesome.”

“I'm sixteen, Mom,” Nicholas said. “You don't have to worry.”

“You don't know how it is in the world.” She glanced toward a window. “It's starting to get dark. We're running out of time. Just listen and do as I tell you. There's a map in your envelope. It's of Savannah and I've marked the way you're to get to Delia. Her address and telephone number are there. She will know what to do. You have nothing to fear, but watch over those girls carefully. They've already had enough bad luck. If I can, I'll write to you. There's food in your packs.”

He felt sick and confused. “Please tell me what's happening,” he said. “Why send us now?”

“I can't tell you anything.” His mother turned to the window again. “It's time. Muriel and Ena will have no one to turn to but you. Remember that.”

The thirteen- and fourteen-year-olds had been runaways when a member of Colin's group had brought them to the commune. Colin had insisted on keeping them in the trailer he shared with Mary and Nicholas “Until I decide if there's a way to reunite them with their own,” he'd said. Colin often sent a couple to San Francisco to look for a runaway child to befriend. He told the group this was their mission, to befriend the lost and help them go home, or at least find them a safe place to live.

Again, Nicholas had learned to doubt if Colin had the welfare of these kids in mind. Each time one of them left, Nicholas became desperate to learn their destinations.

He had never been able to find out a thing for certain.

His mother took one of his hands in both of hers. She trembled. Tears glossed her blue eyes. Left alone to curl around her face and shoulders, her black hair showed no strands of gray. He had been born when she was younger than he was now and she could still pass for being in her early twenties.

Fear gripped Nicholas.

“Listen to me,” she said. “And keep your voice down. I don't want Muriel and Ena frightened. I've been worried about them—we've got to get them out of here. Once you're away from the bus in Savannah I want you three to stay together. Delia will help you make your way.”

“What will Colin do to me when I come back? How will I explain what I've done?”

“You will never, ever come to this place again.”

 

Colin's followers left their trailer homes, taking with them anything that identified them. The group moved slowly, higher up the foothills. They knew the forested country well, that's where they worked over the crop each day, but were unfamiliar with other areas since Colin preferred that they not risk wandering away.

Darkness didn't help their progress.

With Mary at his side, Colin led the way. She completely lost her bearings but his long legs, his tall, strong body moved with the quick assurance of one who had been that way before—more than once.

He spoke to her in a whisper, “Are you certain those girls are waiting in the trailer?”

“Yes.” Her heart pounded while she prayed all three young ones were safely away by now. “Why do they have to wait?”

Colin took his time to answer. “You know I prefer that you not question me. I have made contact with Muriel and Ena's family. They want them home again. I'll go back and take them to safety before the police come. I wanted to make sure our people were tucked in first.”

“The police?” Mary said. “Why—”

Colin interrupted her, “Why do you think? Someone has spoken carelessly about our crops. That's why we must leave like this.”

Crops? He had been calling the marijuana they grew “crops,” as if he were talking about strawberries, or peaches, since the first plants went into the ground years earlier.

They scrambled over rocks for some distance before Colin stopped again and turned to wait for the others. When they drew close he said, “Hold up while I explain what's happening,” in his quiet, authoritative voice. “There's going to be a police raid tonight.”

After a short, heavy silence, muttering started. “How did they find out what we've been doing?” one man asked. “We have always been so careful.”

“I'm not sure,” Colin said. “We're lucky it hasn't happened before. But I promised you I'd take care of you if trouble ever came our way. We're going to a place where they won't find us—just until it's okay to come out again.”

“How long will we have to stay away?” a woman asked.

“Until I'm sure it's safe,” Colin responded. “Leave it to me. But we'll have to move on afterward and find somewhere else to live.”

Sounds of sadness went up.

“Hush,” Colin said. “You know I will always do what's best for you. I already have a place in mind and it's a good place where the land is fine and irrigation will be no problem.”

Higher they climbed. Colin didn't use a flashlight, only the faint light of a weak moon. They all bunched closer to stay together.

Eventually Mary lost track of how long they had traveled but she thought it was perhaps two hours. Her nails were broken from grasping rocks and she'd stumbled once and skinned her knees.

Colin moved confidently. “We're almost there,” he said at last. “There is food and water. The place is an old gold mine and absolutely solid.”

No happy chatter followed.

“Blankets, sleeping bags, I tried to think of everything. No one will ever find us.”

Nausea squeezed Mary's stomach. As she'd suspected since Colin told her to get ready for tonight, something was very wrong. If this raid was a fact, there would have been a meeting and decisions would have been made. That was the way things always went with the group. Colin had the final say and they all accepted that, but they talked first. “How can you be so sure the police are coming?” she asked.

“I'm sure they're coming,” Colin said. “I have an inside contact who warned me. I trust him.” He raised his voice.

“We've arrived. Each of you brought a flashlight?”

A murmur of assent went up.

“Don't switch them on until you have all climbed down the shaft. I'll go first and help you find your way.”

He cleared a place in an area strewn with boulders and felt around with his foot. “There's a rope ladder,” he said. “It's strong and well anchored at both ends. I made sure of it. But don't all crowd in at once.”

Colin gradually disappeared into the shaft and Mary followed him at once.

The shaft was fairly deep and she rested from time to time to ease her torn hands. She felt one of the others put a foot on the ladder. Little was said while they concentrated on finding each rung.

When Colin had told her to leave the girls behind and join him when it grew dark, Mary had feared for them. But perhaps she had been mistaken in sending them away with Nicholas.

There were no handholds to grab in the walls, nothing to stop the feeling that she swung in blackness with no beginning and no end.

She reached the bottom where Colin stood, his flashlight on and aimed at the ground. “This must have been a sort of chimney,” she said to him. “For air. They couldn't have come in and out of the mine this way, could they?”

“I don't know about that. If there was another way in at some time, it's gone now.”

One by one the others arrived and they clustered together. Mary's friend Belinda pressed close and whispered, “I don't like this. Closed-in spaces make me feel ill.”

“Me, too,” Mary said.

“This way,” Colin said and led them along a rough-sided passage where they had to bend almost double. The passage opened out into what seemed to be a place where men had worked, hacking away at the rock in search of their fortunes.

The supplies Colin had mentioned were stacked along one wall.

“How did you get that lot down then, Colin?” One of the men, Zack, asked. “Wouldn't like to go up and down that ladder more'n a time or two, I can tell you.”

Colin's smile, not often seen and always fleeting, came and went. “I lowered everything,” he said. “Make yourself comfortable. We'll hope they come tonight as planned. If they do, we'll get away tomorrow.”

He met Mary's eyes, then looked around, a heavy frown pulling down his pale brows. “Where are the girls?” he asked, loudly enough for all to hear.

Mary followed his example and pretended to search for them. “They knew we were leaving,” she said. Being dishonest with her friends upset her.

Colin's silver-blond hair shone in the gloom. His light green eyes roamed over everyone present and he appeared to hesitate.

He would ask where Nicholas was. He would see he was missing and be suspicious.

Then he moved. “I'll have to get them. William, watch over everyone until I get back.”

He hadn't noticed. “I'll come with you,” Mary said. She'd talk and make sure he didn't realize her boy hadn't been there.

“No. I'll be quicker on my own.” And Colin went into the passageway again.

Mary listened until she couldn't hear his movements anymore. No one spoke but eventually the women started spreading sleeping bags on the rocky ground. She thought of Nicholas's concern about what Colin might do if he discovered he had been crossed. How would he react when he found out she had lied to him?

 

He had to hurry, Colin thought. Getting up here and leading the group into the mine had taken longer than he'd expected. He burst into the fresh air and pulled himself from the shaft.

The knife he took from an ankle sheath glinted. He paused, looking at the handle in his hand.

The blade sliced through the heavy rope ladder where he had fastened it to strong stakes driven into the ground a short distance away. For a moment or two more, he thought, then he dropped the useless ladder down into the blackness and removed the stakes.

He had already handpicked a rounded boulder that stood a little uphill. He braced his back against it, his feet firmly wedged against a rocky outcropping, and strained until the stone first rocked, then rolled over the entrance to the shaft. He used smaller rocks and gravel to seal any gaps.