Embers (The Wings of War Book 1) (5 page)

Ember ~ Four

“H
e’s not going to kill my dog.”

I glanced at Timmy from the couch that was strategically placed by the back window.  It gave me a clear view of the barn and pasture. Angus was beside me, his head resting on my lap.  The dog was oblivious to the conversation about his life expectancy. 

Timmy rubbed his hand over his newly buzz-cut hair in agitation.

“No one’s going to kill Angus,” he said firmly.

When Chloe spoke, her voice had a whining quality that grated on my last nerve.

“But, Tim, you know how Marshall is.  He won’t let this matter rest.  I can just imagine him getting smashed some night and shooting the dog himself.”

“That’s enough.  Don’t talk like that in front of Ember,” Timmy scolded.

Chloe nodded nervously.  Her face was pale, probably from wiping up Marshall’s blood.  I had cleaned my own mess, but I told Timmy that I’d jump in front of a train before I took care of Marshall’s. 

“I’m surprised the cops aren’t here already,” I mumbled, stroking Angus’ head.   

Silence and thick tension filled the room. I turned away from Timmy and stared out the window into the backyard.  Our resident squirrel was climbing into the bird feeder, a miniature replica of our barn, for an easy afternoon meal.  Dad had always hated that squirrel for raiding the bird feeder every day.  The memory brought the whisper of a smile to my mouth thinking how he had tried to deter it with all kinds of gadgets that had never even remotely worked. 

I looked past the feeder to the field beyond.  Cricket was grazing near the fence, and in that instant, she looked up at the house and whinnied.  The sight of her triggered a ripple of confidence to grow inside of me.   

“There’s a way to save Angus,” Timmy said.  He walked across the room swiftly and knelt before me. “That’s why I came over actually. I had something important to tell you. Now it seems like it was all meant to be.”

Every inch of me tingled in anticipation as I rubbed Angus’ fur harder, waiting for Timmy to speak again. 

Chloe interrupted.  “This is crazy.  What are you thinking, sending her down there to live with a stranger?” Chloe shrieked. 

While I stared at her, the last thing she had said boomed in my head. 

Live with a stranger?

“It’s what Mom and Dad wanted.  Now let me talk to Ember about it,” Timmy said, ignoring the exaggerated roll of Chloe’s eyes. 

He turned to me. “Do you remember that time when you were about six or seven and we went down to the Smoky Mountains to visit Aunt Ila?”

Of course I did.  Mom had told us that Aunt Ila wasn’t really related to us at all, just an old family friend.  But I never did forget how the woman had stared at me with emerald eyes, holding my hands tightly between her own.  Even as a child, I had sensed that there was something strange about her.  Not really creepy or threatening, just very different. 

I dropped my head back and inwardly groaned.
Like what the priest was talking about different. 

The only other things I remembered from that visit was Mom crying as we drove away and the log cabin in the woods that had been surrounded by brilliant blooming flowers.  In the years after the visit, I had dreamed about the picturesque cabin, and of Aunt Ila’s kind face, too many times to count, but we never went there again.

“Yes, I remember. Why?”  I asked suspiciously.

“This might be a bit of a shock to you, but…” Here, my brother hesitated and then blurted out, “The lawyer called me a few days ago.  It seems that when he was cleaning out his file cabinet he came across a more current Will signed by Mom and Dad.  They had added a special clause stating that if anything happened to both of them, you were to go live with her.”                                    

Chloe interrupted, “Ember’s almost eighteen.  The law isn’t going to send her off to live with some woman she doesn’t even know.” 

“Don’t you see though?  This is the perfect way to save Angus,” Timmy told Chloe, but he faced me and said, “I called Aunt Ila yesterday.  She was excited about you coming to stay with her.  When I told her that you have a horse and dog, she said you are welcome to bring them with you. Besides,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “I had the feeling that you might want to get out of here…away from
them
for a while.”

My mind reeled.  Why would my parents want me to live in the wild mountains of Tennessee with an old woman I’d only met once?

Chloe was right, it was crazy. 

But it was also my chance of escape, an opportunity to get away from Marshall’s nasty paws and Aunt Connie’s cigarette smoke.  And, although I wouldn’t admit it to Timmy and Chloe, I had secretly been wishing to leave this place since I was ten.  Now I wouldn’t have to go through basic training to achieve my goal.

“Taking Angus out of the state is a way to protect him from a death sentence.  Even though Marshall deserved it, the animal control officer is only going to be concerned with the fact that the dog nearly bit someone’s hand off.”

Timmy’s eyes glistened with moisture.  I stared at the brown and green flecks swirling in those worried eyes as he grasped my knees.  “You need to hook up the horse trailer and be on your way,” he instructed.

I began to protest and he shushed me. “We’ll stay here and deal with the authorities.  I’ll tell them we’ve had this move arranged for a while, or that the dog ran off.  I’ll come up with something that makes sense.”

Timmy motioned to Chloe, “Throw a bunch of her clothes into a bag.”

“This is nuts,” Chloe exclaimed, but she rose from the chair and quickly left the room anyway. 

“You can call us every night.  It will only be for a few months.  Once you turn eighteen, you can come back and live here in the house without Aunt Connie.  She’ll have no legal excuse to remain—she’ll have to leave.  Hopefully by then the police will have forgotten all about Angus.”

“Marshall will never forget,” I whispered.

“Don’t worry.  I’ll handle him in my own way.”

My throat constricted at his words.

Timmy swallowed and choked out, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around more.  I

              should have been here for you, then I would’ve known what was going on.”

“Going…on?” I stammered.

Timmy rose and began pacing the room as if he was a caged lion.  “I see it now.  The disgusting way Marshall looks at you...,” he stopped and faced me. “Did he ever…touch you…hurt you in any way before today?”

Seeing the desperation on my brother’s face, I was certain that he’d kill Marshall if I confirmed his suspicions.

A part of me (most of me actually) wanted to see Marshall’s lifeless body in a pool of blood.  And when the image flashed through my mind, it brightened my mood considerably.  I couldn’t deny it.  I’d be thrilled if the man were dead.  But I wasn’t delusional enough to think that it was normal for me to have such violent thoughts.  And then there was the priest’s voice blasting inside my head. 

You are good—there is light inside of you.  You have a choice.

I wasn’t sure if the reason I was about to lie was because of my own selfishness or the priest’s words, but I knew for certain that I didn’t want my brother thrown in jail for the rest of his life for murdering Marshall.  I couldn’t lose him too.  And Marshall wasn’t worth it. 

“No.  Today was the first time.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief, and then nodded with acceptance.  “Angus is a part of the family.  I don’t see any other way to get him—or you—out of this mess.”

The quiet urgency to Timmy’s words snapped me to attention.  

Then I remembered what else the priest had said. 
You must trust Fate.  She is on your side.

Whether or not the priest was insane was still up in the air, but I knew a few things for certain. Mom and Dad were dead, Marshall was a disgusting pig who wouldn’t give up until Angus was dead, and I had survived an explosion that should have cremated me.   

I needed answers.  And since Father Palano had disappeared into thin air after the funeral, I didn’t have many other options.  Besides, I had a feeling that Aunt Ila might actually know what was going on with me. 

Trust Fate. 

With hardly a conscious effort, I said, “Okay.”

Isaiah 6:2

Above it stood seraphim; each one had six wings: with two he covered his face, with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew.

Ember ~ Five

T
he wilderness beyond the driver’s side window was the perfect place to disappear.  I reached out and scratched Angus’ head.  He was safe now.  Marshall couldn’t find us here. A shard of optimism shot through me, but I didn’t exactly breathe out a sigh of relief just yet. 

The five hour drive south had gone by in a blur.  I couldn’t even remember crossing the state line from Kentucky into Tennessee.  And unfortunately, covering hundreds of miles alone gives a person a lot of time to think.  The conversation with the priest and the image of Marshall clutching what was left of his hand had kept replaying over and over in my mind.   

And the entire time, the fire was at the edge of my every thought.  As if it had a life of its own, it pushed in, filling my head with heat that should have made me sick.  Instead, the flames brought a quiet thrill that made me uneasy. 

I had to keep reminding myself that the fire had killed my parents. 

In an attempt to divert my attention, I tried to focus on the drastic change of scenery from the Ohio farmland I had just left, to the Tennessee wilderness that was going to be my home for the foreseeable future.     

The woods here were thick and imposing.  The branches draped over the gravel roadway, shading the truck from the bright afternoon sun.  The shiny leaves of Rhododendron were everywhere and provided a natural barrier into the forest.  It was as if the trees and plants themselves were hiding secrets. 

I was relieved when the road finally widened and the trees dropped away, leaving tall grass in their place. The breeze swirling in from the open windows afforded some relief from the humid, southern heat, and the forest smelled nice.   

I breathed in the tangy pine needles and sighed deeply. Even the orange colored dirt had a scorched odor that was very different than the fertile dark earth I was used to back home.  Besides the smells that tantalized my senses, everything about the place was jagged and rugged, inhospitable.  It was almost as if nature itself wanted to be left alone and was using all of its ability to keep people away. 

The screech of a hawk caused me look up, squinting into the sunlight.  The raptor was silhouetted against the blue sky as it circled low over a stand of cedar trees.  It was an enormous bird, and after a long look at it, I decided that it wasn’t a hawk at all, but an owl.  Craning my neck out the window, I wished the brownish-grey bird was close enough for me to see it better.   

At the same instant that I had the thought, it turned and flew straight at the truck.  If I had stretched out just a little further, I probably could have touched it as it swooped by. 

I thought owls only came out at night.

It took me a couple of seconds to shake off the weird encounter with the owl, and by that time, I began worrying that maybe I had somehow missed the turn. I picked up my phone and checked for bars, and then snorted, tossing it aside.  I wasn’t surprised that there was no reception, but it was still irritating.  I decided to pull over and park for a few minutes so Angus and I could stretch our legs. I’d take the opportunity to have a closer look at the map, and check on Cricket, too.

I wasn’t overly stressed by the lack of cell phone reception, but I was definitely relieved that I’d had the foresight to call Ila a few hours back while I’d still been on the highway.  When she’d answered the phone, she hadn’t been surprised about my sudden arrival at all.  Her voice had been polished, with a trace of an English accent—or maybe it was Irish.  We hadn’t talked long enough for me to figure it out.  It was just a quick conversation about the directions to her cabin. 

Shutting off the engine, I opened the door, and then slid out of the truck.  While I was stretching, Angus brushed by me in a rush to be free. 

Angus suddenly growled and I twisted to follow the direction of his stare.  My jaw dropped.

A hundred feet ahead on the right side of the road was a wooden fence.  Not the usual post and rail enclosure that you’d expect to see on a mountain property, but a huge structure that stood more than ten feet tall.  It was completely solid from top to bottom allowing no view of the other side.  The boards were weathered, but in good repair.  Incredibly, it stretched as far as I could see.

My mind raced.  Why would such a thing be way up here?