Читать книгу Desperate Rescue - Barbara Phinney - Страница 8

Tears diluted the scene before her. She didn’t want to go inside her prison of two years.

But being out here, on what some might have been called the front lawn, wasn’t desirable, either. Her mouth dried, then her throat. She swallowed hard in order to break the crackling feeling. Around her stood remnants of farm life; a rusting hoe and one of those rakes that tractors drag behind them. Propped against an old skeleton of a pickup was an equally ancient tractor wheel.

Her gaze wandered upstairs. From the room upstairs she’d looked down for hours on end, asking herself time and again if she’d break her neck should she try to escape through the window. She’d always stayed put, afraid that should she misbehave, she’d end up in that dungeon of a basement where Noah spent so much time.

A blue jay called out a shrill, indignant cry behind her and flew off to her left. To her right, the cause of the disturbance rustled the bushes.

It sounded big.

And it wasn’t that far from the break in the fence. From this distance, she could see the break and the crushed, waist-high grass and weeds where Eli had twisted the chain link. Whatever was following them would see it, too.

The rustling moved toward the break.

Her heart leaped and pounded in her throat and one of her mother’s favorite sayings burst into her mind.

Better the enemy you know.

She broke into a run toward the house. Eli had left the door open and she leaped up past the squeaky plank, right to the stain where a welcome mat once lay and in the next step, over the threshold.

“There’s no one in the kitchen.”

She spun, so quickly she nearly lost her balance.

Eli didn’t seem to notice her agitation. He’d already turned and headed into the living room. To her left stood the stairs. Up to her prison.

Get a grip, she scolded herself. They’re gone. No one’s here. That rustling was just an animal.

Eli appeared at the end of the hall ahead that lined the stairs, having walked the circle from the living room to the back hall. “Let’s try upstairs,” he said, his voice tight with anxiety.

“You fully expect to find someone here, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer. She barreled on anyway. “There’s no one here, Eli. I can feel it.”

“How so?”

“In the middle of the night when everyone was sleeping, or when they were gone for supplies and there were only a handful of us here, you could tell. There was life here. Now there’s nothing.” Her voice wobbled.

“You don’t sound completely convinced. What’s wrong?”

“I heard an animal outside, that’s all. It spooked me.”

With a frown, he studied her. “Noah wouldn’t be noisy, if that’s what you’re thinking. You just said we’re alone.”

She bit her lip at his comment. She wanted to leave and to have Eli leave with her. But she knew what she’d said would only cement Eli’s resolve to find out for himself. Not to prove her wrong, but to prove to himself that there was no one here, dead or alive.

He brushed off her comments. “We need to look for any clue to where they may have gone. Let’s try upstairs, then work our way down.”

She nodded, telling herself again that she was here for Eli. She’d agreed to get him into The Farm, to help him find Phoebe.

Eli swept past her and up the stairs. They all could be upstairs, but she doubted it. Even dead, she wagered that Noah and his cult would command a certain presence.

And there was nothing here. With a deep breath, she forced herself to remember that. And that Eli was here. She was safe. There was nothing in this house to hurt her.

The urge to run still burned in her. Swallowing it down, she climbed that first step with shaking legs. Then another step, each worn tread giving way to her. Without staring at Eli’s legs as they walked upstairs, she knew he was there, guiding her in a way he didn’t realize. “So who slept in what room?” he asked casually when he reached the top.

A moment of righteous anger surged through her. Didn’t he realize that this was one of the most difficult moments of her life, here and now? Couldn’t he show some compassion?

At the top, Eli turned, fully expecting an answer. She stepped on the upstairs hall floor before giving him one. “Um, Phoebe and Trisha and I had this one.” She pointed to her right. Each door of the five small bedrooms was closed. “The older women had the two end rooms and the kids slept there.” She pointed to middle room.

He flicked his eyes from door to door. “There are five rooms up here.” He looked at the one she hadn’t mentioned. “Who had this one?”

“The married couple.” She didn’t want to think of them. They’d been the hopeful pair to lead the way for all of them to start a new generation. Except their plans hadn’t turned out the way they wanted them to.

Eli shoved open the door of the room she’d shared. It was empty. Only then, did she realize she’d pulled in a breath and held it. Letting it out felt like a relief. She focused on her old room, noticing that all the furniture was still there.

It only added to the eerie atmosphere.

She found herself stepping into the bedroom. The bed was made, the threadbare bedclothes not quite as neatly made as she remembered. The cheap, thin pillows, three in a row on the double bed ahead of her, barely made a lump under the faded chenille bedspread. The whole room had a hasty-looking feel to it, not at all like Phoebe’s usual meticulous standards.

She walked over to the window and looked down at the front yard. The same view as she’d seen so many times before.

Movement to her left caught her attention. That animal? Could it still be there, not scared off by her sudden flight into the house? She must not have made enough noise.

Like the silent house around her.

Silent? She cocked her head, listening. Hadn’t Eli just opened a door? What was he doing?

“Eli?”

Nothing. She peeked one more time at the far view outside, but saw no movement or rustling in the woods that had closed in on the compound.

“Eli?” she called again.

Still nothing. Swallowing, she moved from the window, avoiding any accidental glance around the room as she slipped into the hall.

All the bedroom doors were open. “Where are you? Did you find anything?”

There was nothing but a chilling silence. She dared to peek into the next bedroom, then the far one and soon all of them. No one. Not even Eli.

She hadn’t heard him walk down the stairs. They were old, and creaked—especially on cold, windy nights when falling temperatures and harsh eastern winds shifted the house.

Where was he? What was he doing? Trying to teach her not to be afraid of ghostly memories? To trust in God when there was nothing left to trust in?

Anger bubbled in her, followed swiftly by fear.

Maybe he’d left her in this house and that movement by the fence was him leaving.

His way to teach her a lesson on trust?

Just like Noah. The thought spat into her head and close on the heels of that accusation was another.

He was Noah. Eli Nash didn’t exist. That was why Phoebe never mentioned him. He didn’t exist. For all she knew, Eli was Noah’s middle name and he was both left-handed and right-handed and had sought her out to avenge her desertion and fulfil his threats.

And Noah, now that he knew how she had escaped, was going to make sure she didn’t escape again.

Tears burned her eyes. Her throat hurt from the choke of falling totally apart.

She had to get out of there.

Whirling, she flew down the stairs, missing the last two treads in a blind panicking stumble.

Two arms caught her. Firm, well-muscled, they wrapped around her torso and stopped her from falling on her face.

Pinned by them, she let out a cry and threw them off. “No! Let me go! What kind of sick lesson are you trying to teach me, anyway? You’re insane!”

“It’s me, Eli!”

Total panic flooded into her and her eyes widened in horror. “No, no! You’re Noah! There’s no such person as Eli! You’re trying to trap me in here! To kill me like you threatened to do. I saw you!” She thrashed away from him, twisting until she was free.

“Kaylee! It’s okay!”

She heard him, but couldn’t control the fear racing through her. She flung herself at the front door, finding it closed. Then, firing it open, she fell over the threshold.

Eli shouted her name again. This time it registered, but she didn’t dare listen. Gulping in the fresh fall air, she raced across the front yard, not headed to the cut in the fence, but straight at the gate.

She tripped over something and fell ungracefully on the dry, dormant grass.

“Kaylee, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself. I’m not Noah! It’s me, Eli!”

She saw him close in on her. Even now, with the panic settling in her, she couldn’t stop herself. She knew the craziness of her actions, but she was beyond any self-control. She stumbled to her feet and began a zigzag trek around the house.

Reaching the back gate, she thrust out her arms and shoved hard. The posts, weakened by too many high winter snows, had lost their grip on the ground. One good shove from her and they toppled loudly, dragging brittle brush with them.

But they weren’t so weak that they gave her full rein. She stumbled and crawled over them, only to have one post fight back. Her weight wasn’t great enough to keep it down and she found herself scraped and tangled in the mix of chain link and barbed wire.

“Kaylee! What’s going on? Are you crazy? Stop! You’ll cut yourself to shreds!”

She stared up at Eli. He stood over her, worry frowning on his face.

There was no mockery, no smirk on his face. He held out his left hand and she saw the puckering scar he’d shown her before.

Confusion swept through her. Did Noah have that scar?

No, he didn’t. She was sure now. “Where were you?”

“You mean, just now? I went into the basement.”

“Why?”

“Looking for—Looking for any clues to where they went.”

“Didn’t you hear me call?”

“Once, but by the time I got up into the kitchen, you were already racing down the stairs. I had to grab you when you stumbled. You could have killed yourself.”

Her panic drained away. “What did you find in the basement?”

He pulled in a deep breath and shook his head. “Not much. A table, a few chairs. It looked as if it was set up for one of those prayer sessions you described. A few candles. There was a lightbulb hanging from one of the beams.”

A light? The times she’d been down there, only candles were used and she’d kept her head down in hopes no one would notice her. A shudder danced through her. Old knobby candles that smoked and stank and shot long shadows through the basement.