Capture (23 page)

T
he other driver was still in his borrowed guard uniform. He shucked off the camo, revealing a blue t-shirt and jeans underneath, and stuffed both his and Steve’s uniforms under the trucks’ front seats. Then we lined up the stolen vehicles, braced the branches in place, and the drivers jumped out. I had worried that the weight of the trucks would cause them to get stuck in the dirt along the shoreline. But here the winter season proved a benefit for once...the cold and the lack of rain had dried out the bank, turning what would have been a sloppy mud pit into a rock hard path of doom. Their engines roaring, our group’s twin monsters of transportation slid right down the short bank and into the water, quickly sinking beneath the black surface. By the time anyone found them, if they ever did, we would be long gone.

We all exchanged a few high fives and fist bumps then jumped into my truck and headed back into town one more time.

While
Mike and the drivers joined the others on the bus, I took my time checking the rest of the route to South Dakota on the GPS, making the simple process take longer than it should have. I was stalling, waiting for Tarah. Except I’d never asked her if she wanted to keep riding with me or with the others.

Was she settled into a bus seat, comfortable and ready for the rest of the trip to get underway?
I could imagine her all too happy to ride with a whole bunch of outcasts, pelting them with a million questions about spellwork for hours on end. Should I just get going without her?

I waited half a minute, then a full minute, the silence of my truck’s now empty cab expanding and pressing down on me so the drumming of my fingers on the steering wheel seemed as loud as a rock band gearing up for a concert.
I turned on the radio, tried to find a station I liked, then turned it off again.

She wasn’t coming.
I’d be finishing the trip alone.

I reached for the gear shift.

Tarah came flying out of the bus and around to my window.

“
Hey,” she said after I rolled down the window. “Sorry, I was helping Kristina learn how to use the bus’s restroom.” She looked down at my hand on the gear shift. “Were you going to leave without me?”

I shrugged.
“I thought maybe you’d prefer to ride with the others. Learn all their secret Clann ways, or whatever.”

“
Um, yeah, eventually I’d like to. But I figure there’s plenty of time for that in South Dakota. Once we get there, though, we might not get another chance for just you and me to hang out together.” She hesitated. “I mean, if you
want
to hang out, that is. If you’d rather be alone, I totally understand.”

I jerked my head towards the passenger door, the combination of my relief and her cute awkwardness making it impossible not to smile.
“Get in.”

She flashed a grin
at me then ran around the front of my truck. While she hopped in on the passenger side and buckled her seatbelt, I let Bud know we were ready on the walkie talkie. Then we took off, back on the road to South Dakota with only a few more hours to go till we reached the safety of Sioux Falls. And for the first time, I felt really hopeful that maybe, just maybe, this crazy, unplanned journey might not end in disaster.

The next hour was the best I’d known in too long.

Tarah
had a way of making me forget the world racing by outside the few feet of space inside my truck. I’d always loved this truck. But Tarah made me love it even more with the way she stretched her legs out across the seat or propped her ankles up on the dash. She made me laugh at the way she liked to play with the CD changer, making her nosy and opinionated way through my eclectic music collection. She made me smile at how she insisted on reading more spells to me from my new magic book, but only in the right order, using a penlight she found in the backseat.

It had been so long since I’d really laughed or even wanted to.
But Tarah made it feel easy and natural again.

And then, with one push of a button, that too short moment of peace was shattered.

C
HAPTER 13

Tarah

“
H
ayden, we’ve got to pull over,” Bud barked through the walkie talkie, making me flinch. “That little girl you were talking to earlier...something’s wrong with her. I’m trying to call 911, but my phone’s got no signal.”

Kristina.

“Pulling over now,” Hayden replied in the walkie talkie as he slowed down and pulled to the side of the road. Thankfully the traffic wasn’t too bad here.

Hayden and I both dove out of the truck the moment it was parked and ran to the bus.
Bud immediately opened the door.

Hayden vaulted up the steps and down the aisle, joining the crowd that had gathered towards the back.
Being tall had its advantages, letting him peer over heads and shoulders, while I had to crane my head and peer through an opening between shoulders to see several hands trying to hold down Kristina’s body as she thrashed like a wild animal. Her fluttering eyelids revealed eyes that rolled in every direction.

Then the energy in the air ramped up as the healers closed their eyes and focused.

Under the dim overhead lighting, the bus was dead silent.

“
What’s wrong with her?” I whispered to Mike at my left.

“
I don’t know. Nothing happened that I could see,” he whispered back, his eyes wide and staring at the little girl. “Everyone was sleeping. Next thing we know, she just started flopping around like that.”

“
I think she’s having a seizure,” Pamela muttered without opening her eyes or letting go of Kristina’s head. “Give us a minute.”

“
Hey, anybody got a phone with a signal?” Bud called out as he slowly made his way down the aisle to join us.

“
Shh,” Pamela hissed.

“
They wouldn’t get here in time,” Hayden told Bud, reaching for a plausible excuse as to why we couldn’t call an ambulance.

Grumbling, Bud tried punching buttons on his phone again anyways.

In those long, surreal minutes, I looked around me, remembering what Jeremy always said.
It’s the details, Tarah,
he said over and over.
They’re the only way to keep yourself grounded. When everything around you goes insane and you can’t get your bearings, open your eyes and ears and look for the details. They’ll help you know the moment is real, that what you are seeing, smelling, feeling, hearing, living is real. And then,
only
then, will you be able to catch your breath and think again and remember that it’s just a moment in time and someday you’ll write about it and that moment will become a story the entire world can share.

The bus smelled of peanuts and strawberry jelly, dirt and unwashed bodies, the subtler scent of the baby wipes the
outcasts had tried to clean up with, and the stronger, sharper assault of disinfecting wipes Bud must have used to wipe down the seats before our group boarded his bus. The bus seemed so quiet at first till the pounding of my own heartbeat faded from my ears and I could hear everything else again…Kristina’s whimpers and grunts and the rustling of her clothes and the thuds of her sneakers as she thrashed and occasionally made contact with a seat.

Hands reached out to try and hold Kristina’s limbs still.

“No, don’t hold her down,” Pamela said. “You’ll hurt her.”

It seemed way too warm in here, the air stifling to breathe.
Should we open some windows to help Kristina breathe easier?

I looked around for the nearest window to see if they could even be opened and found Hayden standing there, and I couldn’t look away from him.
He was staring at the little girl and the group of healers around her, his eyebrows drawn, fists clenched at his side, his entire body rigid. Watching so intently, like all the others. But not like the others.

Some of the men’s faces were resigned, waiting for more death and destruction to come into their world.
Only a few of them held any hope still. They had learned the hard way that keeping bad things from their loved ones was no longer within their control.

The women’s and children’s expressions were more openly afraid.

But none of them, including Hayden, feared for themselves.
Not this time.

They cared about Kristina.
And so did Hayden, but in a different way.

Unlike the others, he wasn’t just watching.
He was assessing the situation, his body weight balanced on the balls of his feet as if ready to spring into action and only waiting for his mind to make a decision on what to do. His hands were still clenched into unyielding fists, his jaw muscles knotting and relaxing, knotting and relaxing. He was upset, almost as if he wasn’t just wanting to fix this newest problem but
needed
to because…

Because…

Because he felt
responsible
for these people.

And then I understood.
I understood why he’d never wanted to do the prison break in the first place, and why he didn’t want to talk about what happened with Damon, why he’d seemed not just freaked out but guilty too after the police officer’s death at the gas station, and why he’d decided to rent this bus and buy all those things for these people.

It was because he was a Shepherd.
Because Shepherds always became leaders. It wasn’t just in their history. It was trained into them from birth. He’d known that once he helped free these people, they would become his responsibility, his to lead and take care of, regardless of what other plans he might have once had for himself.

The air caught and held in my lungs, and I raised a hand to my mouth as my eyes stung.

What had I done?

Suddenly, Kristina grew still, and I watched her as everyone else did, forgetting to breathe, waiting for some movement, some sound that would tell us she was still alive. Some sign that everything could still be okay.

Long seconds ticked by.
Then a minute.

“
Pamela?” I murmured, not wanting to distract her or the other healers who had laid their hands on Kristina’s limbs and temples.

Pamela didn’t move, her eyes still closed, a slight frown of concentration telling us nothing as she slowly slid her palms from the sides of Kristina’s head to the back of the little girl’s skull.
Kristina’s eyes rolled in their sockets, unseeing, each blink too slow in coming.

Finally Pamela opened her eyes.
“She’s going to be okay. She’s just epileptic.”

A collective sigh whispered through the bus.

“I know what you’re doing here,” Bud said.

Beside me, Hayden jerked once then froze, his gaze dropping down and to the side in Bud’s direction.
He winced, and I knew instinctively what he must be thinking. He was hoping Bud wouldn’t say anything else, that Bud wouldn’t become a problem. That Hayden wouldn’t have to do something about that problem. Because, like me, Hayden liked this old man. It was why he’d risked hiring him to be our driver in the first place. He wanted to trust that there were others like me in the world, normals who wouldn’t join the rest of the world in turning against him and his kind.

But these people on this bus had become his, for better or worse.
And if necessary, he would do what he must to protect them.

“
Why don’t we move closer to the door?” Hayden said, keeping his voice low as he led them both up the aisle towards the front of the bus as if to avoid disturbing the recovering child.

I half turned towards them so I could listen and watch them out of the corner of my eye.
And pray with every ounce of willpower within me that Bud would say and do the right thing.

Please.
Please don’t make Hayden do something he doesn’t want to do here.

At the steps, Hayden stopped and turned to face Bud, his neck and shoulders stiff.

“That was a prayer circle, wasn’t it?” Bud blurted out, and I nearly dropped to my knees with relief.

Hayden’s eyebrows shot up as his eyes darted from side to side, studying Bud for understanding.

“I’ve seen them before,” Bud continued. “Some call it laying hands on a person, healing hands, healing circles. Things like that.”

“
Yeah, I guess that’s what you’d call it,” Hayden said, his tone neutral. “Is that a problem?”

“
Oh, don’t you worry,” Bud said with a firm nod. “I understand completely. Churches don’t do them too often nowadays, what with all this anti-Clann craziness going on. Gives some people the wrong idea.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the side of the driver’s seat. “I can keep my mouth shut about it.”

“
I appreciate that, Bud.” Relief added the tiniest hint of a sigh to Hayden’s voice. “These are good people here. They were just trying to save a little girl’s life.”

I heard Pamela murmur to the others and risked joining Bud and Hayden.
“Um, Hayden?”

“
It’s all right.” Hayden’s smile was sincere, warming his eyes though it couldn’t erase the tiredness from around them. “Bud knows all about prayer circles. And he’s promised not to mention anything about it to anyone. You know, so no one gets the wrong idea about us.”

I turned to smile at Bud.
“Thank you. Pamela says Kristina’s going to be okay. She just needs some rest and quiet.”

“
Why don’t Pamela and Kristina ride with us?” Hayden suggested. “That way Kristina could stretch out in the backseat. We could keep things a lot quieter for her there. And Pamela could be there in case she has another seizure.”

“
That’s a good idea. I’ll ask Pamela.” I turned and made my way down the aisle, having to wait a few times for the others to get back in their seats and clear the path. Behind me, I sensed Hayden following.

Kristina now lay half draped across Pamela’s lap and the neighboring seat, which was too short, forcing Kristina’s legs to hang over the edge.
Her little body was twisted awkwardly.

Pamela immediately agreed to the idea.
But her husband wasn’t happy about it.

“
What about our little girl?” Steve hissed. “Cassie needs her mother too.”

Pamela’s eyes widened then narrowed.
“She’ll be with her father, of course. And it’s only for a few hours.”

Hayden surprised me, ignoring the little marital tiff completely as he eased past me and bent down to carefully gather Kristina in
to his arms. Pamela gave her daughter a quick kiss on the top of her sleepy head, then followed us out of the bus and into the truck. We got Kristina settled in the backseat and were still trying to decide where Pamela should sit when Hayden took off without a word back towards the bus.

Pamela looked at me with eyebrows raised.
I shrugged. I might know Hayden well enough to read his body behavior and facial expressions in general. But I wasn’t a mind reader.

“
Maybe I should sit with Kristina,” Pamela muttered, rubbing her upper arms through the sleeves of her sweatshirt as she studied the sleeping child. “She’s going to be out of it for hours. She might need someone to keep her from rolling off the seat.”

“
I could move some stuff out of the way for your feet.” We’d already pushed the pile of books and hoodies, CDs and laptop and duffle bag onto the floor. But I thought I might be able to condense it all into a pile at one end of the floorboard with a few good shoves.

I was just finishing exactly that
while marveling at how messy some guys could be, when Pamela tapped my shoulder. “Um, Tarah? Hayden’s coming.”

I straightened
up, turned my head to look, and my jaw dropped. Hayden was helping Kristina’s mother off the bus.

Again, I felt my eyes burn and fill with tears as the two slowly made their way over to the truck, Hayden guiding her by her elbow but letting her move as slowly as she needed
to despite the group’s need to get to South Dakota. Again and again, he continued to amaze me. How had he known Kristina should have her mother with her? Most guys would never even think of this, much less go to such effort to see the right thing done.

Pamela and I stood there in teary silence until they reached us.
Then we jumped into action again, Pamela helping the mother into the backseat while I leaned over the seat and held up Kristina’s head for her mother to get settled in beneath. Once Kristina’s head rested in her mother’s lap, Hayden unfolded one of three blankets he’d also brought from the bus and covered Kristina with it. The second blanket he draped over the mother, repositioning Kristina’s head on top of it. The third blanket he rolled up and used as extra padding between the mother’s head and neck and the unyielding head rest.

“
I think I’d better ride in front with you guys,” Pamela murmured as we watched Hayden ease the back door shut beside the mother. “If they need me, I’ll just lean over the seat to help them.”

I nodded
, and we both walked quickly around the truck. Pamela waited for me to get in first, and it was only as I climbed in that I realized I would be sitting right beside Hayden now. I tried not to react but could feel my cheeks growing warm as I put on my seatbelt. Then Hayden got in, his thigh brushing my hand on the seat. I jumped, mumbled an apology and clasped my hands out of the way in my lap, looking everywhere but at him.