“But you never broke, Chris. You’re following your path and still finding your way. Take it from an old man: sometimes, you get a second chance.”
Not with Alex. What he said next surprised him. “What do I do about Simon? If he’s alive . . . we’re enemies. Did he even know about me?”
Yeager shook his head. “What you do depends on what you find.”
“He eats people.” He’s my brother; we’re identical twins. He’s me and I’m him.
“If that is all he is, then you have your answer, don’t you?”
“How can he be more than that?”
“I love him, Chris.” Too dark to see his grandfather’s expression, Chris heard the catch in his voice. “That makes him more.”
That Yeager could not say the same about him hurt more than Chris would’ve imagined. Well, what did he expect? He’d shown up in town a virtual stranger, only a copy, a faded Xerox.
“Try not to be bitter for too long,” Yeager said. “Life is hard enough.”
“Whose fault is that? I was a kid. I saw you, what, five times before the world blew up? It was Peter who really cared, who went out of his way—” He swallowed back the rest. “How else am I supposed to feel?”
“You’re entitled to your anger.”
“I don’t need your permission.”
“But you’re not stupid, Chris. Of all people, you should know what anger does to the soul. You have only to remember your father.”
Chris stared. “You’re going to lecture me about anger and my dad? You knew what he was like. It’s why you agreed to take Simon in the first place. You were rich. You could have fixed things, done something to get me out of there. But you left me alone with him. So don’t give me any bullshit about what anger does. I don’t forgive you. That’s what you’re really asking for, so you can die and believe everything’s all right. What you did and let happen—to me, to Peter, Alex—those are your mistakes, your sins to bear. Know what? Take it up with God, if you see him.”
“It is the time of the Lord’s vengeance, and he will pay her what she deserves. Jeremiah was referring to Babylon, not Rule, but I take your point. You asked about Simon. There really is only one choice you’ll need to make: life or death.”
Someone will die. Chris looked back at Jess. Someone must.
“I need to go,” he said. “Kids are moving out soon.”
“All right.” Yeager peered up at him. “Why did you come? You’ve made it abundantly clear it wasn’t to see me.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about Jess, I guess.” Now it was his turn to pause. “Why did you think it was okay? She was married. So were you. You’re a reverend.”
“Oh . . .” His grandfather brushed an errant strand of hair from Jess’s forehead. “The heart wants what it wants, and only I was married. I was selfish, and she was vulnerable: beautiful, a widow. . . . At least, we thought so. Her husband had been declared legally dead.”
“A mistake, or did he really disappear?”
“Perhaps a bit of both? Even before Vietnam, he was involved in some very . . . questionable projects.” Yeager’s hand lingered on Jess’s cheek. “When did you figure it out?”
Technically, he’d known ever since Peter mentioned the name in a dream. But that wasn’t something you could say, even to a guy who believed in the two halves of the soul.
“When Tom showed us the picture. Isaac said he was a business partner and then I remembered that it’s the only mine shaft that was never finished,” Chris said. “That’s when I knew that Jess had been Finn’s wife.”
“Nooo.” Clutching her Savage in one tight fist, Ellie stamped a foot, then pushed Mina’s snout away when the dog turned a worried look. “Please don’t make me. I want to stay with you. Why can’t I?”
“Ellie, honey.” While very bright, the moon kept ducking in and out of scudding high clouds, and he was having a hard time seeing her face. Crouching, Tom ducked his head, trying to catch her eyes. Go easy; she’s grown up a lot, but she’s still only eight. “Look at me. You have to listen. It won’t be safe here.”
“But I don’t want to go with them.” She waved an arm in the general direction of the wagons parked in the hospice’s lot. From here, the wagons would head north on an old logging road that could be easily blocked once they were gone. The air was filled with the clatter of hooves on icy asphalt, the anxious whimpers and yips of the remaining dogs, and the piping exclamations and questions from the children. Most were under twelve and being hustled to one of two waiting wagons. To Tom’s left, a bald kid with more piercings than a pincushion was boosting an egg-headed boy onto a flatbed where Sarah, a slender girl with a touch of a limp, waited.
“You know Jayden,” he said.
“That’s not what I mean. I should stay. I can help,” Ellie said. “So can Mina.” At the sound of her name, the dog’s tail whisked. “We shouldn’t split up, Tom. We only just . . .”
“I know, honey.” He leaned forward a little to make himself heard over the axes biting trees and handsaws buzzing through trunks. Once the children were away, the trees would be felled to prevent Finn’s men from using the road. A large force would have to bushwhack miles out of its way to follow. If Finn was up to chasing anyone. Tom was betting against it. “But I have to stay. If you’re still here, I’ll worry about you, and then I won’t be able to do my job.”
“But why does it have to be you? Why can’t somebody else stay?”
“Chris is staying.” He wasn’t wild about that, but Chris wouldn’t back down: Your plan, my town, and you’ll need help. Best not to fight it, though. The first chance he got, he’d send Chris packing. “I’m the only one who can do this, Ellie. This is the way I can keep you safe.” At the growing thunder in her expression, he cupped her face in his hands. “You and Alex were the best things to ever happen to me. I thought I’d lost you, and then there you were, like this miracle. I was so happy I thought I was going to burst. I would do anything for you. I know this is hard, but please do this for me.”
“Tom.” Ellie blinked furiously. “I don’t have anything to give you to keep you safe. Chris has my good-luck charm. I don’t have anything else.”
“Oh honey.” He kissed first her right palm and then her left before pressing her small hands to his chest. “You’re right here. That’s all I need.”
“But what about Alex?”
He worked around the tightness in his throat. “She’s there, too. She’ll always be.”
“But I want her for real, Tom. Promise we’ll look for her, together?” She raised her streaming face. “Please. Cross your heart and hope to die?”
For the second time in less than five minutes, he lied. “Cross my heart and—” He saw Chris, downslope, running their way. The boy’s body language was enough.
This is it. “You have to go, honey.” Scooping Ellie into his arms, he jogged to Sarah’s wagon and boosted her in. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Tom!” Ellie grabbed Mina, who’d hopped in after, by the neck. “Tom, wait!”
“I’ll be there,” he repeated, then ran to the lead wagon, crowded with kids and dogs. Jayden was slinging a backpack to Kincaid, who was settling a teary girl and admonishing a silky golden retriever that kept trying to wash the girl’s face. “You guys got to roll,” Tom said.
“I hear that.” Kincaid leaned down and grasped Tom’s hand. “Luck. Stay safe, son.”
“Right back atcha.” Tom offered a hand to Jayden. “Be careful. Watch out for Ellie.”
“Watch her yourself.” Jayden surprised him by pulling Tom into an embrace. “I never thanked you,” the boy said, roughly. “For, you know . . .”
“It’s okay.” Tom gave the boy a squeeze. “Good luck.”
“Don’t be long?” Jayden clung to Tom’s forearms. “Stick with Chris. He’s got a radio. I’ll keep mine on so you two know where to find us. Don’t get any dumb, stupid ideas, Tom.”
Had Jayden read something in his face? “Don’t worry. Now go.” Turning, he saw Chris, at Ellie’s wagon, reaching up to give the girl a hug. Chris’s big black shepherd leapt nimbly alongside Mina and a sleek Weimaraner Chris said had belonged to Alex. Seeing them all together like that, knowing Ellie would be cared for and loved, made Tom feel . . . a little easier.
Beyond, a large dray hitched to a third supply wagon was snorting, picking up on the sudden urgency and eager to be off. Three other boys—Aidan, Sam, and Greg—were already on their horses. Aidan and Sam, who smelled like bad news, moved to take point, while Greg waited to bring up the rear.
Please, God. As Ellie’s wagon rumbled past, he raised a hand. He thought Ellie shouted something, but her words were drowned by the clop of horses’ hooves and the creak of wagons and the few excited huffs of dogs. Please, keep her safe.
In another moment, the moon hid its face, thick shadows swallowed the wagon, and Ellie was gone from him, again, lost to the dark.
106
“How long are we going to stay here?” Cindi asked the guard. She curled against Luke the way he remembered his cat used to: warmthseeking behavior, his mom called it. Luke used to hate how much that cat shed, but now he really missed the dumb thing, not to mention his parents. Slipping an arm around Cindi’s shoulders, he pulled her a little closer. A half hour after Finn’s men and their Chuckies had streamed into camp, two more men had trotted up, leading a mare. When Luke spotted her and an ashen Chad astride the horse, he’d made an idiot of himself, twisting away from Mellie and capturing Cindi in a bear hug: I thought you were dead, I thought you were dead!
