Rebirth (19 page)

The melee was in full swing when the second hummer cruised into the base to aid in its defense. Four men jumped out of the vehicle and split up in pairs, keeping low to the ground. I couldn’t say exactly how many terrorists there were to begin with, but I knew for certain that four of them were very, very dead.

In a flash of terror I saw a man approaching Jeffrey from behind and to the right, narrowly hidden by his parked Hummer. I anxiously tapped out instructions to the gunner in the tower with me, pointing to the target. The gunner nodded, aimed, and fired. The would-be attacker was thrown up against the wall, his left arm torn from his body. Jeffery, oblivious to the near-disaster, shot controlled rounds into another of the invaders making his way into one of the out-buildings. The man slumped quietly to the ground, hand still tightly clenching a door handle.

“Perimeter check!” shouted Jeffrey when all went quiet. The five soldiers stood slowly and crept around the compound for several minutes. Jeffery ordered one of them to secure the covered truck and the rest to drag the dead to a central point on the parade grounds. Our dead were tenderly lifted onto stretchers and raced inside. When we got the “all clear” I descended the ladder on shaky legs. Crossing the compound to enter the hospital, I noticed Jeffrey moving the prisoner out of the Hummer.

“Oh my God…” I whispered to myself. I did recognize him. A quarter of his face burned away, years since I’d laid eyes on him, I could hear his voice in my ear. Earl.

Chapter Forty

The military trial was set for Friday. We buried our dead and burned the invaders’ bodies, salvaging what could be useful to the base.

I still reeled from the idea that Earl was in such close proximity. Four days after the attack, I wondered whether I ought to visit him, if for no other reason than to gloat. I imagined what I would say to him, the things I would accuse him of at his trial. He hadn’t seen me, of that I was sure, or he would have asked for me by now. I had so many questions for him. How did he escape the fire? Was he responsible for Sidney and Caroline’s deaths? Did he get that nasty burn because of me? I hoped so.

Sitting in the daycare with Leif and five other children, my mind wandered. I went back to the day we lit the house on fire. Sidney and Caroline were at my side, Leif was just a brand new baby swaddled and hugging my stomach. I could smell the fuel and feel the cold metal cans in my hand as I poured the flammable liquid along the perimeter of the house.

“Mom.” Leif was calling me.

“Yes, honey?”

“What’s wrong with Sherri?” Sherri was a six year old girl whom he would play with occasionally. Today she was sitting alone in a corner with a doll in her arms.

“Sherri’s dad died in the accident,” I explained in a whisper. He had been killed when the terrorists burst through the gate. We hadn’t been able to save any of the medical personnel that were run down.

“You mean when we were attacked?” Kids seemed to get to the truth no matter how hard you tried to sugarcoat it. Too many ‘accidents’ claiming too many lives.

“Yes, honey. Sherri needs your help. She needs you to be extra nice to her and to help her through this hard time, okay?”

“Okay, but Blank Man is actually helping her right now.”

Jesus, Blank Man. The name always upset me. I believed it was because of the letter Joel had left – his suicide letter which mentioned a Blank Man more than once in almost every stanza of his poem.

“Blank Man is here?”

“Yup. He’s helping explain to her what happened.”

“What’s he saying to her, Leif?” I leaned into him and looked at the corner where Sherri sat moving the arms of her doll up and down, nodding her head.

“He’s just explaining where her dad is now.” Leif sat abruptly on the carpeted floor and picked up a toy.

“And where is that, Leif. Heaven?” A surge of excitement overcame me. I felt I was on the verge of learning the mysteries of life after death. Where do we go when we die?

“That’s not what I meant, Mom. I meant he’s telling her where he is in life.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’s in a baby now.”

Reincarnation. Okay, I’d bite.

“His spirit is in a new body?” I asked.

“I guess so. I guess that’s what that means.” He knew more than he was telling me.

A question arose in my head like thunder and I asked it without the benefit of forethought. “Did the Blank Man tell you if you were someone else before you were you?”

“I was. So were you, so were all of us!’ Leif became very animated, almost angry.

“Okay, honey. If that’s what you believe...”

“That’s the truth, Mom! We come and we go and we come and we go, it’s kind of stupid when you think about it. Why keep coming back for? It’s like going to school all your life!”

That was pretty profound for an eight year-old. If this was true, then the Hindus and the Buddhists had it right. We keep coming back to learn more and more and when we achieve enlightenment we stop coming back. I’d read an interesting book on the subject while at the bunker, with my witches. This begged the question I had been struggling with a very long time.

“Did he tell you who you were before you were you?” I asked again.

“Uh-huh.” He moved a toy wagon up his left leg and down his right.

I asked because I’d been harboring a theory of my own that the witches hadn’t even touched on. Though it was confirmed his was an old soul, whose soul was the real question. Leif’s right forearm bore a distinctive mark, a birthmark that ran full around the circumference of it. It was a faint line that had actually gotten quite a bit darker in the past eight years. It was just below the elbow.

“He said I was Joel.”

Chapter Forty One

He was Joel, his father. Those words would haunt my every waking hour for many days to come. The idea that Joel had lived on in his own son floored me. Yes, I had been playing with the idea, having read in some occult book that occasionally a past life will represent itself in the body of a new life through markings. Old scars, old wounds that carried their energy across the - whatever it had to carry it across- dimensions? Joel’s arm had been removed at exactly the point Leif’s markings were appearing. The coincidence was too uncanny to even absorb.

Never mind the fact that the spirit, or angel, or whatever you wanted to call it was still with us, with him, still guiding him in some fashion. I sincerely worried for my son’s life, for his future. Joel’s angel had not missed a beat. He’d let Joel die, and then he reconnected. I needed answers.

“Sara.” It was Sergeant Jones calling me from just beyond the entrance to the day care.

“Yes?” I answered blankly.

“Could I see you a moment?”

“Sure.”

In the hallway he took me by the arm softly and positioned himself between me and the door. “Jimmy told me what happened up in the tower. I just wanted to thank you.”

“Oh yeah, of course.” I struggled to snap out of my most recent revelation.

“No, really. I couldn’t bear the thought of my wife and kids without a father and a husband in all of this. Thank God for small miracles.”

“I – I couldn’t imagine this place without you.” I felt the familiar heat building up in my face and chest.

“Thanks, Sara, really. I was lucky to have had you up there.”

“I’m glad I could help.” My voice cracked. His face was only inches away from mine. I could feel his breath on my lips. My eyelids fluttered, independent of my will.

“My guardian angel.” He smiled widely.

I would have felt uncomfortable in the moment if I hadn’t liked him so much. I half expected him to kiss me. God, I wished he had. But I knew my place, and accepted his heartfelt thanks. Though this back and forth had gone on for years with Sergeant Jones, I still found it difficult to navigate. In life a man, or boy as it were, would profess his lust for me within the first ten minutes of meeting me. I knew I carried off a certain look that others found attractive. With the Sergeant, though, and his situation, he couldn’t, or wouldn’t tell me that in so many words. So, the game played on.

“Let’s hope that’s the last of the raids,” I added when I felt I had control over my voice again.

“I’m sure there are more to this terror cell then the ten we stumbled upon.” He turned and looked down the narrow hallway. “I’d like to get to them before they come looking for our prisoner.”

“You believe you’ve captured their leader?” I switched gears and began fishing for information on Earl.

“Yes, he’s admitted as much. About all he will admit though. He’s in the stockade now. We’ve been questioning him for days. He’s a tough one to crack.” He seemed frustrated.

“I could talk to him.” I didn’t think. I just spoke. “I mean, have you tried that approach, with a woman?”

“No.” He shook his head. “You would be willing to talk to that animal?” His brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. The mole above his left eyebrow hid within the deep creases of his forehead.

“What do you need to know?”

“Well, whether there are more for one - where they might be hiding out. Their numbers, things like that.”

“I could give it a shot.”

“If you’re sure, I’ll set it up.”

“I’m sure. Whatever I can do. This place saved my life and my son’s life. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to help.” It was true, but at the same time I found myself excited at the prospect of seeing Earl in captivity.

“You’re a good soldier, Sara.”

“Thanks.” I blushed. My knees wobbled slightly and I discreetly held onto the door frame to steady myself. I was often embarrassed by my inability to control my reaction to his presence.

“I’ll contact you in the morning and let you know. If you’d like I can be there, in the room while you interview him.”

“Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

He left me there with a smile and a nod. Back to his wife and kids. I was sure I’d given myself away this time. Shake it off, Sara I told myself, and walked back into the day care.

Chapter Forty Two

Sergeant Jones set it up. I was to come face-to-face with Earl. I would confront him alone. No need for the Sergeant to know I’d ever had anything to do with this asshole. Our interrogation was scheduled for the morning. After a restless night in my bunk where I ran through all of the things I’d say, I felt I was ready. The Sergeant picked me up at my room after I left Leif at the day care.

“You’re still good with this?” he asked as we walked the halls.

“I am.” How would he react to seeing me? Although eight years had passed, I hadn’t really changed.

We walked across the compound and entered the stockade where Earl was sitting on a cot in a cell. I took great pleasure in seeing him caged.

“Prisoner!” shouted Jeffrey. “It’s time!”

Earl did not acknowledge us. The Sergeant looked at me and whispered into my ear. His hot breath tickled the flesh of my neck. “Would you like me to remain here?”

“No. If he hasn’t told you anything yet, he won’t talk for me if you’re here.”

“Be careful. He’s very unstable.”

“I’ll be fine. He’s in a cage. He can’t hurt me.” I whispered back.

“Very well. There’s a pad and pen here if you feel the need to write anything down. Remember what we’re looking for: numbers, location, strengths, weaknesses.”

“I’ve got it, thanks.” With that he left me in the small room. It smelled of sweat and blood. The room itself was little more than a closet. I sat down on the wooden chair and picked up the pen and pad.

Earl shifted in his cell; he was visibly uncomfortable. He had put up quite a fight when they took him, and no doubt his swollen cheek and closed eye were the result. It was especially strange to see him, someone from my past, like this. He was a grown man, no longer the untamable teenager. With so many of my friends from the past gone, I often wondered what they would look like when I studied my reflection. Now here was Earl, eight years older. The others would remain forever young in my memory. Joel, Caroline, the whole group. I was thankful for having had the opportunity to grow as a person, to grow up at all.

“Hello, Earl,” I said. This got his attention. No one had been able to get a word out of him, let alone his name. He squinted at me.

“You know me? You know my name?”

“Look at me, and tell me you don’t know me.” I would enjoy this moment.

He looked up and then sideways, his face permanently etched with the reminder of the fire he’d survived. The fire I’d set. His left eye swollen shut from a more recent injury.

“You,” he growled.

“Surprised?” I asked, with every bit of pride I could muster, sitting up straight.

“Sara,” he said, his voice trailing. “How the fuck did you manage to get yourself to this place?”