Turn or Burn (29 page)

“You bastard.”

He grinned and slapped my cheek. “Now, let’s take you back to the barn. We’ve only begun working on you. One month from now, you will be a new man. The Lord will help us wash away this evil.”

The barn came into view in the moonlight. It was on the verge of collapse. Jameson slid the front door open and shined his light inside. It was the size of a basketball court. The floor was covered in hay. The men led me toward the back as the hay crunched under my bare feet.

The Canadian took me by the hair and shoved my head in between two pieces of wood. There was a cutout of a half circle on either one, making room for my neck. It was like some medieval guillotine of sorts, hopefully
sans
the blade. He slid the top piece of wood down and it pinched my skin as it locked my neck into place. I heard a metal lock close somewhere around my head. I was just high enough that I couldn’t rest my knees on the ground, and I was forced to stand there in a very awkward and uncomfortable position.

Jameson threw a fist into my side, and it knocked the wind out of me. As I gasped for air, he said, “We’ll break you soon enough, but we have more important things to attend to now. You’ll have some company though, if he’s still alive. See you soon.”

I didn’t say anything. There wasn’t a point.

They went out the way we came in and as the door slid closed, they took most of the light with them. As my eyes adjusted, I listened for a while. It was quiet, save some crickets chirping outside. Then I thought I heard a groan and breathing. “Hello,” I said. “Someone in here?”

Nothing.

“Hey! Someone in here?”

“Yeah,” a voice said behind me. It was barely audible.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“You first.”

“My name’s Harper Knox.”

He laughed some, but it was a weak laugh. “Harper,” he said. “I should have figured. It’s Coleman Jacobs.”

“Detective Jacobs…what are you doing here?”

“Hanging out.”

I grinned darkly. “Do they have you locked into one of these contraptions?”

“Yeah. They beat me pretty badly, too.”

“How long have you been here?”

“A couple days maybe. I’m not sure. You?”

“No idea. Maybe the same. You have any idea what’s going on here? I called you, you know. Left a message.”

“I didn’t get it. They took me from my house. I was sound asleep. They came in and knocked me out. I woke up here. Been locked up in this damn building ever since. I have no idea where we are.”

“It’s a barn. We’re in some kind of commune. Way out in the woods on a big farm.”

“What are we dealing with?”

“I don’t know exactly.” I told him about the sermon and the wedding I’d just seen. “I know they’re up to something tomorrow but I don’t know what. That preacher Wendy Harrill told me it’s going to be bad. She said lots of people are going to die.” Then I told him about Abner’s plans for Francesca and Luan.

“So he’s going to rape them?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d say we’ll be able to stop it,” Jacobs said, “but I’d be pumping you full of bullshit. I don’t think we’re getting out of here. No one has any clue where we are. I think I’m going to die in this barn.”

Maybe two hours. I’d gone through every leg position I could think of in order to relieve some of the stress. I was thirsty, too.

“We there yet?” I asked.

He didn’t respond.

“Jacobs!”

“Yeah,” he said after a few more seconds. “I’m fading. Need water.” He didn’t have to tell me. I could hear it in his voice.

Right then, the door of the barn cracked open.

Footsteps.

It was only one person this time and he was coming for me. The footsteps grew louder and the flashlight in his hand brighter. It was a man with an axe in his hand. I couldn’t see his face, just his torso and the steel of the axe and a shotgun slung around his back. He set the light down, pointed it toward me, and raised the axe.

“You need to think about this,” I said, trying not to close my eyes.

He wasn’t listening to me. The axe came down quickly.

Payback is a bitch. I’d been thinking about killing myself for years, but now someone was finally doing me the favor, and I didn’t want it. Not that I was scared. I just didn’t want to die anymore. Was that because of Francesca? Hell, I don’t know. But the fact was that I didn’t want that axe to end my life. I wanted to live. At least I had that going for me if all of a sudden I woke at the base of the pearly gates and needed to defend my existence.

Metal on metal again. Sparks flew. Either he had the worst aim in the world or he was helping me. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“Shut up and keep your head turned away. This is making enough noise as it is.” I turned away and he swung the axe several more times until I heard something pop. He pulled a chain through a hole and slid the top piece of wood up, and I stood, rubbing the flesh around my neck and enjoying the feeling of straightening out my legs for the first time in hours.

I finally got a look at him. I loved seeing that little baby face. Once the ringing in my ears ceased, I said, “Thank you, Elvin. Can you help me with these cuffs?”

“Yeah. Turn around and put your hands on the wood.”

I did and he raised his axe.  I grimaced, ready to lose an arm. “Be careful.”

He swung three more times and the noise was absurdly loud. Someone had to hear it.  The cuffs finally separated. I reached for the axe. “Can I get that from you?” I took it from my new friend and limped over to Jacobs near the opposite wall. Elvin followed me with the light.  Jacobs was in the same contraption I was. His eye was nearly swollen shut and his face was covered in sweat. He looked like he’d lost some weight. Some of that balloon gut had deflated and his face had thinned up. Using the axe and making way too much noise, I set him free and he fell to the ground. 

I pulled him up by his arm. “Can you walk? They’ll be coming after us.”

“We’ll find out.” He rubbed his neck, finding his balance. They’d dressed him in similar attire, and like me, he had no shoes on.

I looked at the shotgun Elvin had brought with him.  It was a Mossberg with an extended magazine tube.  “I don’t suppose you want to lend this to me, do you?” I asked him.

“You can probably work it better than I can.”

I took the gun and some shells that I stuffed in the pocket of my linen pants. I handed Jacobs the axe and looked back at Elvin.

“Where’s Abner? Where are the women?”

“In the main house. Up in the tower bedroom. Everyone from the camp is there, surrounding them.”

“How many are armed?”

“Almost everyone. All the men at least.”

“Okay. We need to get out of here.”

We made our way out of the barn and snuck into the woods. It was black outside.

As she’d told me and proved, Francesca could take care of herself. As hard as that pill was to swallow, I had to accept it. Saving her from being raped had to come second to figuring out what else Abner was planning.

Oh, keep telling yourself that, Harper
. Truth was, all that mattered to me was Francesca not getting hurt. But I forced myself to choose. If I could prevent both, I would, but first and foremost, I had to save people’s lives.

Once we were behind the tree line, as Jacobs tried to get himself together, I whispered to Elvin, “What is Abner planning? I mean, other than making a baby?”

“Car bombs. Lots of them. I don’t know where. He wants to draw attention to what we’re up against. We’ve been training these people for months. Reprogramming them like we started with you.”

“You mean the prostitutes?”

“Not all of them are prostitutes.”

“Where are they?”

“They’re already gone.”

“Where?”

“I…I don’t know. The locations were kept secret. I don’t even know who knows other than Abner. He might be the only one.”

“Do you have a phone?” I asked.

“No,” he said.

“Can you find one?”

“There’s only a few in camp. Only a couple people have them. Abner. Taylor. I don’t know who else. They don’t trust us with them.”

“Where is Jameson?”

“Protecting the house.”

“Where are we? I mean, location-wise?”

“We’re in Ashford. Just outside of Mt. Rainier National Park.”

“How far is the closest town?” I asked. “Closest place we might find a phone.”

“Maybe five miles. Unless you catch someone on the road driving. There are not many houses out here.”

Jacobs spoke up. “We need to call it in. I’m with you.”

I looked back at Elvin. “Can you run?”

He nodded. “Sure.”

“I want you to find a phone. Call 911. Tell them that Detective Coleman Jacobs is here. Tell them everything you know. Make sure you tell them about the car bombs. And tell them Jacobs and I are going to find out more and will try to call.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “You can save a lot of people today. Can I count on you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know where we can find more guns?”

“They’re locked up in the main house, where Abner is.”

“Shit. Well, run your ass off. We’re going to need some help.”

He mumbled something and was gone. We could only hope he would follow through.

As he disappeared into the forest, I looked at Jacobs. “You in this with me? We need to get Abner. No matter what.”

“We can at least try.”

The white Victorian farmhouse came into view, with its steep roof and wraparound porch. The tower on the left side reached another story past the rest of the house. The lights were on. Abner had the women up there.

Torches lit up the grounds surrounding the house. That’s where the singing was coming from. The entire front lawn was covered with people, like it was some kind of pilgrimage. A few men were standing guard closer to us, so it wasn’t going to be easy to get inside. Especially with an axe and a shotgun. But we had no choice.  “Let’s try the other side,” I whispered.

Staying far away, we moved low through some high grass toward the back of the house, but we discovered quickly that the house was completely surrounded by worshippers and guards. They had no intentions of letting anyone disturb this moment.

I squatted next to Jacobs. “I’ve only got six shots. We have to get more weapons.”

“But they’re all in there.”

“Then let’s walk right in like we’re part of them. See how far we can get.”

“I don’t think we have any other choice. I’ll go first. Watch my back.”

“Yep.”

Concealing the axe against his chest, he started toward the crowd, his short legs holding up his belly and the rest of his bulk surprisingly well. Though I would rather have had Ted by my side, Jacobs had the concentration and confidence of a seasoned veteran. I stayed back a minute and then began moving. A few other people were walking the grounds so we didn’t look
that
out of place.

I got there ten seconds after him, hiding the shotgun as best I could against my body. I worked my way under the torch light past the people who were sitting on blankets and in chairs on the grass looking up toward the tower. Some were holding up crosses and bibles, saying prayers. The young children were sleeping. Many of the people were singing, “Jesus Loves Me,” and truthfully, it freaked me out. Stephen King would have had a field day.

No one noticed us at first. They were all so focused on what was going on inside that house.

Jacobs did something that surprised me. As he got close to the porch, he took a seat on the grass. Like he was one of them. I kept going.

Once I got near him, I made the only call I could. Two men were sitting on the porch with guns on their laps. In some weird way, I felt like I was the evil one, like I was killing people during a church service. But these people were different. There was nothing right or good about what was going on.

Raising the shotgun, I ran up the steps and started firing. I put a hole in the chest of the first guy before he had even gotten up. I killed the other one just as he got off the chair. The screaming began behind me.

As the drugs wore off, a surprising thing was happening. I felt shockingly on top of my game. I hadn’t felt so focused and relaxed amidst chaos in more than three years. Looking back on it later, I realized that the love I felt for Francesca Daly had crushed my fear. Nothing, including my monkey mind, was going to get in the way of protecting her. If only for a night, love had conquered my PTSD.

I heard footsteps running up behind me and turned. Almost pulled the trigger. But I heard, “It’s me, it’s me!”

Jacobs was working his way up the steps.

I looked past him at the people.

Some were coming after us; others were running the other way. I fired a couple warning shots, hoping I didn’t have to shoot anyone else. The ones coming our way slowed, but a round flew right by my face, implanting itself in the front door.

“We gotta keep moving,” I yelled, turning. Jacobs picked up a handgun off one of the dead men and followed me as we forced our way into the house.

Someone in a room off to the left was firing at us as we got into the foyer. But we didn’t have the option of moving slow. They were coming after us from the yard, too, like zombies after our flesh. I slid onto the floor, simultaneously turning onto my back. I held the shotgun steady with both hands and searched for targets. I had two shots left.

A man was coming from around a corner. I pulled the trigger, and the pellets from the shotgun ripped into his neck. He fell. Jacobs was right behind me and moved toward the dead man, prying away his gun and disappearing behind a wall. Shots were coming from the top of the stairs, so I took cover.