Authors: L. J. Sellers
Jenna drifted off, her brain visiting the dark place to rest.
She woke to the rumble of a truck engine. Someone was coming! She would be saved! Jenna struggled to clear her mind again. She had to be coherent when the truck came by. The way she looked, they might think she was a mental patient or a lunatic. She had to sound rational if she expected someone to give her a ride.
Slowly she stood and brushed herself off. The truck sounded close now, but the trees were so thick and the road so curvy, she couldn’t see it. The sound was coming from the right. Sarah had said to turn right at the dirt road and follow it to… Jenna couldn’t remember the name of the second road. The vehicle was going the wrong way to give her a ride.
A black truck rounded the curve and stopped in front of her.
Or had Sarah said turn left? Jenna was confused and frightened.
The man at the wheel rolled down his window.
Jenna thought he looked familiar. It didn’t matter, she realized too late. He was headed in the direction of the prison.
He called her name.
Jenna bolted. But she was exhausted, and the man overcame her in seconds. He grabbed her by the hair, jerking her to a painful stop. A gun pressed into her ribcage. For a second, Jenna wished he would shoot her and this horrible nightmare would end. It would be better to die than return to the gray room and mind fog of the prison. She was breathing too hard to taunt him. She twisted to face him. The man lifted the gun as if to strike her. The air filled with dust and the rumble of an engine. They both turned to see a white van thunder to a stop two feet away.
“Zeke! No!” The preacher/doctor shouted just as Jenna’s head exploded in pain.
* * *
When Zeke saw the woman sitting by the road, he decided to drag her into the woods, put a bullet in her head, and be done with it. No one would ever find her out here. But fucking Carmichael had to show up. Now the Reverend was kneeling next to Jenna, trying to stop her bleeding.
“How the hell did she get loose?” Zeke demanded. He had no intention of taking any shit from the Reverend.
“Sarah untied her and led her out of the church.”
“I thought Sarah was still in town.”
“I don’t understand either. Right now it hardly matters. Help me get her in the van.” Carmichael was gently pressing his hands against the unconscious woman’s head where Zeke had struck her with the gun.
Zeke’s brain raced, trying to form a new plan. He was tempted to shoot both Carmichael and Jenna, then get in the truck and hightail it for the border. That would leave Elizabeth to blame him for the kidnapping. He wondered if Liz was at the compound.
“Did you do the transfer thing already?” Zeke bent down and grabbed Jenna by the legs.
“Yes.” Carmichael lifted Jenna’s torso.
“Is Liz at the compound?”
“Yes, why?”
“Just curious.” They started toward the van, Jenna between them. Zeke felt a stab of pain on the upper left side of his chest. He must have strained a pectoral picking her up, he thought with disgust. He needed to start working out again.
“Were you planning to take her out of here today?” It took him a while to say it, he was breathing so hard. Maybe he ought to quit smoking too.
“I have to. I was hoping you’d show up to help me.” Carmichael gave him a look, questioning where Zeke had been. Zeke ignored it. Carmichael opened the side doors and they laid Jenna on the floor. The Reverend pulled the syringe from his pocket and gave her an injection.
“We have to go back to the compound first,” Carmichael announced, pulling the needle out. “To get some restraints and a blanket to cover her. This is going to be a long trip.”
A quick stop at the compound was fine with Zeke. All he needed was five minutes to grab the Reverend’s financial files from the church office. And maybe the cash Carmichael kept stashed.
“Where are you taking her?”
“North. To a little town just across the Washington border.”
Beautiful. Zeke would convince Carmichael to bring Liz along, then he would shoot all three of them when they reached their destination. Or somewhere along the way. It hardly mattered as long as there were no witnesses and the bodies were left in a different jurisdiction with no IDs. The confusion would buy him time.
“I’ll ride with you and keep an eye on her.”
Zeke was proud of himself for thinking it through. He never planned for any of it to turn out this way and didn’t like to think of himself as a killer. Carmichael and his girlfriend had started this shit, and he didn’t feel sorry for them. He felt bad about Jenna though. She seemed much worse for the wear, and who knew what Carmichael had done to her mind with all those drugs. She’d be better off dead.
It was a relief to know he wouldn’t leave any loose ends or people to point a finger at him. He could start his new life without looking over his shoulder wondering when the law would catch up with him. Zeke leaned back against the seat and massaged the pain in his left shoulder.
Chapter 46
3:07 p.m.
Eric woke with his face in a puddle of drool. He had no idea where he was or how he got there. After a moment of confusion, he recognized the interior of his car. He tried to sit up, but his chest hurt. Eric pushed with his elbows and gritted his teeth against the pain. Blood rushed from his head and he felt dizzy. He remembered driving and feeling his head spin. When the grogginess cleared, Eric looked around. All he saw were tall pine trees and a narrow gravel road.
It came back to him slowly. Being stabbed, seeing his attacker in the hospital, searching for Carmichael’s church. Eric opened his blue denim shirt to check his wound. The bandage was soaked with blood but still intact. He left it in place. He must have pulled some stitches out. No wonder he’d been dizzy. The blood on the bandage was dark and congealed, no longer flowing freely. He felt weak but decided he’d be all right. He’d come too far to turn back now.
Pressure in his bladder forced him out of the car, as the jumbo coffee demanded release. Eric discovered the Firebird was parked in the middle of the road. He walked to an opening in the trees, then shuffled another twenty feet into the woods before relieving himself. He didn’t expect company; it was a privacy thing.
With that distraction out of the way, he took in his surroundings and realized he was standing in the middle of an old dirt, logging road with ruts so deep it was barely discernible as a path for vehicles. The road didn’t look as if it was used often, but it did look as if it had been used recently.
Earlier, someone had splashed through the deep chuckhole where the two roads met, leaving a trail of wet tire marks that gradually disappeared into the forest. The black truck. Eric could picture it bouncing through an hour before. He hurried back to the Firebird and turned it around.
Adrenaline rushed through his system, giving Eric new strength. He bounced along the rough road wishing he had four-wheel drive—with a shotgun mounted in the cab. Approaching the hideout alone and unarmed was dangerous. Eric was scared, but he couldn’t stop or turn back. He remembered that he had softball stuff in the trunk, including a bat. The knot in his stomach relaxed a little. A bat could be useful.
The road twisted and dipped and climbed. Eric kept his foot off the gas, not willing to risk tearing out his suspension. He felt himself getting weak again, so he ate the other Snickers. After driving for an hour, he noticed the trees began to thin and the mountain seemed to rise straight up around him. In a moment, Eric got his first sight of the structure that had been the home of gun-loving survivalists and now was the Church of the Reborn. It was huge and gray and had a cluster of smaller buildings connected by covered walkways. It reminded Eric of the prison he’d visited two days before.
Why would a religious commune be out here in the middle of nowhere? What were they hiding?
A cold prickly sensation ran up his back. Eric eased off the road and shut the engine down. He could see a gray van, a dark blue Lexus, and an old white truck parked under a long carport on the left side of the main building. Where was the black truck? Was Grafton not here? Eric wished he knew what he was up against. The thought of running into either Carmichael or the ex-con chilled the sweat on his chest. If he could maintain the element of surprise, Eric thought he might have a chance of finding Jenna—and coming out alive.
Chapter 47
3:35 p.m.
Elizabeth heard double footsteps thumping down David’s private stairs from his office above. She lifted her head and glanced through the windows in the lab doors in time to see the men set Jenna down on the surgery table. Her face and head were covered with blood. No! Oh, please, no. She couldn’t be dead. Elizabeth’s insides went cold. Ralph’s voice came back.
Killer liar whore killer
. No! How could this have happened?
Zeke! Of course. The bastard. Why hadn’t David stopped him? Elizabeth heard David and Zeke’s muted voices, then the sound of Zeke clomping into the hallway and up the main stairs. What was going on now? Why didn’t David come in and talk to her? He knew she couldn’t get up. She started to call out to him, then stopped when she heard David’s voice. Was he talking to Jenna?
Was her sister still alive or had David lost his mind? His voice was so gentle and loving. Elizabeth slid off the gurney bed and hurried to the connecting door.
She watched through the Plexiglas as David meticulously cleaned her sister’s wounds, making soothing noises as he worked. Jenna was alive! Relief washed over Elizabeth. She would have never been able to live with herself if Jenna had died. What kind of mother could she be with her sister’s death on her conscience? How would she ever look her daughter in the eye?
The embryos!
Elizabeth clutched her abdomen. What was she doing standing here?
She hurried back to the hospital bed. Was it too late? The survival rate for IVF embryos was less than fifty percent. Had she blown the whole cycle with one thoughtless moment? Ralph’s voice gently mocked her.
Barren barren barren barren
.
David pushed through the doors as she eased into a reclining position. “Zeke wants us all to drive to Washington with Jenna.”
“Why?” Elizabeth sat up. She wasn’t going anywhere yet. “What happened to Jenna? Is she all right?”
“She’s fine. Zeke thinks the police could raid the church at any moment and that we should get her out of here right now.” David moved toward the bed. New wrinkles had worked their way into the skin around his mouth. “I think he’s right.”
“Because of the reporter?” Sharp spikes of tension streaked up Elizabeth’s neck. She wondered if it was too soon to take another Valium. “Because of those pictures in the paper?”
“There’s more, but we don’t have time to talk right now. I need to pack both of us a small bag and get Jenna ready to travel.”
“I want to keep one of her ovaries.”
“What?” David was stunned.
“We should harvest one ovary and sustain it with fetal tissue and hormones. It’s been done.” Elizabeth spoke rapidly, remembering the article she’d read recently. “A team of researchers in Australia–”
“But why?” David cut her off.
“In case these embryos don’t survive.” Elizabeth felt the hot pressure of tears build behind her eyes. She clenched her fists. Why was she getting emotional now? “I’ve been under a lot of stress these last few days.” She stopped and swallowed hard. “Then these last few hours of waiting and not knowing what was going on has been pure hell. What baby would implant itself in this negative environment?”
“Your embryos will be fine. Stop worrying.” David stroked her hair and made soothing noises.
Despite his many weaknesses, he was a kind man, Elizabeth thought. “Will you do the surgery? Keep an ovary for me?” She felt better already, her emotions fading as quickly as they came.
“There isn’t time, Liz.” David looked weary, older than she’d ever seen him.
“It would only take an hour. Or less. You shouldn’t take her out of here until after dark anyway.” Elizabeth grabbed his pale, delicate hands. “Please, David. Think of the research possibilities. You could make medical history.”
“But no one would ever know,” David mumbled, but his eyes danced with intrigue.
“What have you got to lose?”
“Everything, if the police get here while I’m operating.”
Elizabeth was silent. She didn’t believe the police were on their way. Nobody even knew where the damn church was. It was just Zeke’s way of trying to control the situation.
“There isn’t time, Liz. We all need to get out of here.”
“I’m not going unless we do the harvest.”
David shrugged. “We’ll go without you. If you stay and the police come, you’ll be arrested and questioned.”
“I’ll tell them everything. You and Zeke will be picked up before you drop her off.” It was a bluff, but Elizabeth was determined to have one more chance. She had a bad feeling about today’s transfer. Jenna only needed one ovary for herself. If they could keep the other one alive and harvest more oocytes, she could have that chance.
“Elizabeth.” David collapsed in a chair, unable to finish his plea.
“Less than an hour, David.” Elizabeth felt animated, suddenly realizing the full possibilities of what she had planned. “Just think. We can create and freeze as many embryos as we can produce for as long as we keep the ovary alive.”
“Which Australian doctors and where did you read this article?” David pretended to be skeptical, but Elizabeth could tell he was intrigued by the challenge.
“Jochian and Weber, last month’s
Journal of Embryonic Medicine
.”
“You said fetal tissue?”
“Monkeys and pigs, they claim, but you know researchers are using aborted fetuses for various types of gene therapy.”
David nodded. “Pig fetal tissue has proven to be a great culture medium.”
“Then you’ll do it?”
“You’ll have to assist.”
She should have expected it. David always struck a bargain if he could. He was testing her to see how badly she wanted the ovary. “Do you think it’s safe for me to get up?”