Web of Deceit (21 page)

“Good idea.”
Elliot agrees with Beth as they near the house. “It appears they only have one
backup generator for the house.”

They creep along
the side of the house.

“Yes, I’m glad.
The darkness has been helpful.”

Elliot’s phone
rings. He answers it.

Half guessing,
Symphony remembers the correct button and presses
Send
. She waits long
enough for the call to connect. “So where exactly are you taking me?”

“It is a
surprise,” Mrs. Freedman says.

“Yeah, I should
have told you, I don’t like surprises. So go ahead and spoil it for me,”
Symphony says.

Beth reaches over
and closes Elliot’s phone. “Elliot, they are going to take her to the dungeon.”

“It’s OK, I’ll go
back to the basement,” Elliot says. “You go into the house. Find Kelly and
Sarah.”

“OK, but be
careful,” Beth says walking away.

“Uh, Beth,” Elliot
says. “In case this ends bad, I want you to know that I love you. I have since
the first time we met.” Elliot grabs Beth in his arms and kisses her.

Caught off guard
and surprised by his reaction, Beth swings her arm to slap him across the face.

Elliot ducks his
head just in time. “That’s not exactly the response I was looking for!”

“You wait until we
are about to die to share that with me? What is wrong with you? Never mind,
don’t answer that question. You go save Symphony, and I’ll go save Sarah and
Kelly. We will meet back at the garage, steal a car, and get out of here.”

“Sounds like a
plan.” Elliot smiles and disappears back into the dark garage.
She loves me
too.

Beth puts her
hands on the brick windowsill and pulls herself up, enabling her to peer
through.
This must be the kitchen
.
The room is empty. Now is my
chance.
Beth lets go of the sill, allowing herself to drop to the ground.
She takes a deep breath, places her hand on the kitchen’s door handle, and
forces herself to open it. It gives.
So far, so good.

Bump. Bump.
Bump … Slam! Crash!

Huh? What was
that? Oh no, that door in the corner is opening. What should I do? Hey, the
porcelain cookie jar on the table.
Beth picks the jar up with both hands
and raises it above her head.

“Don’t drop it,” a
voice behind the door says in a loud whisper.

“Sarah?” Beth
asks.

“Yes,” Sarah
whispers as she backs out of the pantry, followed by Kelly. They close the door
together and lock it. They look at each other with a sigh of relief and lean up
against the door.

“Was that the
charge nurse from the hospital?” Beth asks.

“Yeah. She was
unconscious in the stairwell, and she woke up very angry, but praise be to God,
she is out again.” Sarah moves away from the pantry. “Her real name is Louise,
and she is involved with Mrs. Freedman.”

“Wow. I’m here to
rescue you, but you’re doing all right without me,” Beth says.

“It’s not us,”
Sarah says.

“It’s God,” Kelly
says, finishing Sarah’s sentence.

“You know.” Beth
carries a chair over to the pantry door. “I’m beginning to wonder if you’re
right.” She props the top of the chair under the knob reinforcing the door.
“Elliot said he put his trust in God today.”

“Praise God!”
Sarah says with glee.

“Even before he
said anything, I could tell he was different,” Beth says. “I want that peace
you guys have. And when I die, I don’t want to be alone in hell forever. And,
the truth is, it could be today. I mean Mrs. Freedman has no problem killing
people.”

Tears stream down
Sarah’s face.

“And,” Beth says,
“I believe; I want God in my life like he’s in yours.”

“Praise God. Thank
you, Jesus,” Sarah says. “You have no idea how long my parents and I have
prayed for this moment.” Sarah wraps her arms around Beth with a tight embrace.

“I know. Thank you
for not giving up on me.” Tears stream down her cheeks as well. “So what do I
do?”

“Just tell God
what you told me. Romans 10:9 tells us that “if thou shalt confess with thy
mouth the Lord Jesus and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him
from the dead, thou shalt be saved.” And Romans 10:13 says, “For whosoever
shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.”

Beth falls to her
knees and pours her heart out. “I believe, Jesus, I believe. Please forgive me
for my sins and save me. I don’t want to go to hell and be alone. I want to be
with my family when I die.” Beth’s sobs become heavy as a burdens of sorrow,
loneliness, and fear that have weighed Beth down for so many years are lifted
from within and taken away.

Peace showers upon
her and flows throughout her entire body, giving her the joy she has always
longed for but could not purchase with money or earn through good deeds. “Oh
God, Thank you,” she says, weeping.

Beth stands to her
feet and wraps her arms around Sarah. She starts laughing with joy. “I’ve been
running around all day trying to protect you and …”

Sarah interrupts.
“There’s no safer place than in the arms of God.”

“Yeah, no more
worries.” Beth wipes the tears from her eyes. “We better go. Elliot is going to
meet us in the garage with Symphony, and we’re all leaving this place
together.”

“Thank you, God.
You are awesome.” Sarah closes the kitchen door and follows behind Beth and
Kelly as they all run to the garage.

*   *   *

After scaling down
the steep steps, Elliot races through the dark shadows of Mrs. Freedman’s
playground of despair. Elliot hides in a dark corner next to the secret
entrance only seconds before Mrs. Freedman pushes the door open.

“What is this
place?” Symphony asks, still keeping her cool.

“This is a
special, attitude-adjustment place for extraordinary people like you,” Mrs.
Freedman replies.

“Yeah, I always
figured my life would end like this.”

“It didn’t have to
end like this, my dear. You could have been more compliant. I usually change
people from their ill ways by tweaking their minds. But special stubborn cases
like yours, never seem to work.”

“So you choose
monologuing us to death instead?”

Mrs. Freedman
turns a light on, revealing the medieval torture chamber. “I have come up with
a way that you too can be beneficial to society.”

“By stretching me
and putting me in a circus?” Symphony buys time.
Come on, Elliot. Hurry up.

“No, I have even
better plans for you.”

“Lady, you’re
twisted.”

“No, girl. It is
the world, not me.” Mrs. Freedman turns another light on, this time showing the
cells. “I strive at living a perfect life, and I work hard to help others do
the same. If people would read the Bible like they used too, and follow the
rules, the world would not be so corrupt. And my job would be easier.”

“Huh, you actually
read the Bible? That’s funny, I always thought that ‘Thou shalt not kill’ was a
big one, and yet, I’ve heard about your handiwork all day.” Symphony stares
directly into Mrs. Freedman’s cold, dark eyes. “Or, don’t you believe it counts
if you’re not the one that gets your hands dirty? Well, I got news for ya, it
does. And if your plans are to kill me, it won’t work. I died a long time ago,”
Symphony says in a monotone, matter-of-fact voice.

“What a
coincidence,” Mrs. Freedman says. “You say you are the walking dead, and it
just so happens, I need a corpse. You see,” Mrs. Freedman begins as she pushes
Symphony to the last cell, “helping the world doesn’t pay very well. People
take, take, take only to drain my account and not replenish it.” Mrs. Freedman
motions her complaints with her hands. “Because my late husband and
father-in-law were very good scientists, I was able to embark on the human-body
journey. Have you heard of body museums, dear?”

“Yes,” Symphony
says.

“Good, then you
know your death will be for a good cause.” Mrs. Freedman points into the cell
window. “This will be your husband. I was going to be gracious and let his wife
stand by his side forever, but she is missing, and my client needs a happy,
healthy, couple by Tuesday. So—a little bleach here and a facial tweak there
and you will be the perfect couple for my client overseas.”

“Overseas?”

“Yes, I met a man
in need of a Romeo and Juliet. He was willing to pay handsomely for them. But
that is neither here nor there. After I hook you up to my machines, this matter
will no longer concern you.”

“You won’t be
torturing me first?”

“Isn’t that odd?
My late husband asked that same question. No, if there are signs of anything
happening outside of a common misfortune, it will scare off my clients.”

“In other words,
they don’t wanna get there hands dirty either.”

*   *   *

Elliot watches on
from the corner.
It looks like she’s taking Symphony to the operating room.
I gotta act quick.
While Mrs. Freedman and her men walk toward the
operating room, Elliot hurries to the secret door. Once there, he opens it,
allowing him to enter the room.
Oh Lord. What should I do for a distraction?

A picture of a red
button enters his mind.

Yes, Beth found
an alarm underneath the desk.
Elliot rushes to the desk, and after finding
the button, he presses it quickly.

A loud horn
sounds—
Neet! Neet! Neet!
—and echoes throughout the complex over and over
again.

*   *   *

“Howard! Someone
has triggered the alarm. Go check it out!” Mrs. Freedman commands.

Howard runs off.

That must be
Elliot; I’ll have to stall her.
“You should try showing love to your
victims—I mean the people you want to help? That’s what my friend Sarah does.
She says that Jesus didn’t come to point out how wicked we are, but to show us
his love, that we might choose Him. She says that once you give yourself to
him, he will let you know what needs to be changed. Sarah never judges me, and
I know she doesn’t agree with all the stuff I do.”

“Your friend Sarah
doesn’t get the results I do.”

“But you aren’t
getting real results; you force people to change.”

“After I’m done
with Sarah, I’ll have access to all kinds of hard cases. And I’ll fix everyone
I can.”

“And the one’s you
can’t?”

“Eliminate them
from the gene pool, of course. Look at the bright side—you will end up having
lots of company at the museum you are going to.”

“Your
father-in-law really was involved with Hitler, wasn’t he?”

“My father-in-law
was brainwashed. It took me years to deprogram him. But once I convinced him
how barbaric a supreme race was, and how it went against the Bible, he decided
to help me change the world my way, from within.” Mrs. Freedman glances back at
the door and then down at her watch.

“Lady, you were
duped. He got you to do the same thing he was doing. He let you believe what
you wanted, but forcing people to change on the inside through hypnosis is only
turning them into obedient robots. You’re just as bad as Hitler, you just hide
behind the Bible.” Symphony raises her voice.

“How dare you
disrespect me in that tone and accuse me of those lies.” Mrs. Freedman presses
her hands on her outfit and slides them toward the bottom. She then glances at
her watch again. “Howard! We haven’t got all day. I must get the girl started.”

*   *   *

Elliot steps back
as he hears the door close.

“Who’s in here?” a
gruff voice questions as he shines a light on the desk to walk over and turn
off the alarm.

Elliot sneaks up
behind Howard, putting one hand over his mouth while simultaneously knocking him
out with a sleeper hold. Elliot reaches in his bag.
Where’s my duct tape?
Sweet. Now my handcuffs. There they are.
Elliot pushes Howard under the
desk and hides in the dark again.

*   *   *

“Howard!” Mrs.
Freedman says again. “Something is wrong.” She runs to the wooden cabinet next
to the cell that Jade’s deceased husband is in. Mrs. Freedman opens the door
and retrieves a handgun. “You may let go of the girl, Jerry.” Mrs. Freedman
points the gun at Symphony and closes in with confidence. “Go see what is
taking Howard so long.”

“Yes ma’am.” Jerry
runs off to help his friend.

*   *   *

Jerry holds his
gun out in front of him as he opens the door and then gives it a kick to close
it behind him. “Howard? Are ya in here? We gotta hurry; she’s gettin’ mad.”
Jerry shines his flashlight around the room.

Elliot moves away
from the corner he was hiding in to get closer to Jerry. The light shines off
to his right. Elliot moves, but not quickly enough.

“Hey, you’re not
supposed to be here. Where’s Howard?” Jerry points his gun at Elliot’s head.
“Don’t move, I’ll shoot.”

“Howard’s fine.
Give me the girl and I’ll let Howard go.”

“Ooh, Mrs.
Freedman ain’t gonna like that,” Jerry says. “No sir.”

Elliot steps
closer to Jerry. “You don’t want to shoot me. I can tell. Just hand over the
gun.” Elliot takes another step.

“I mean it. Not
another step,” Jerry says with a nervous stutter. Jerry cocks the hammer
preparing to shoot. The gun shakes as he trembles in fear, gazing up at the
six-foot man towering over his five-foot-five stature.

“I’m not gonna
hurt you.” Elliot takes one more step.

Jerry squeezes the
gun tighter, and while doing so he bumps the trigger causing it to fire.

Bang! Bang!

Elliot jumps out
of the way to escape the bullets and dives on top of Jerry, pushing him to the
cement floor. “What’s wrong with you!?” Elliot asks. “If you don’t know how to
use an automatic, you should at least make it so one bullet comes out at a
time! You could’ve killed us both.”