Eve of Redemption (13 page)

Martinez felt a hand on his shoulder. He flinched and almost shook it off, then sagged under the touch. “It probably doesn’t mean much to you,” Burke said, “but I know what it’s like to lose loved ones when no one else cares about it.”

Martinez nodded. “Guess you do.” He stood up straight again. “She isn’t dead yet. Should have been gone over a year ago, but she’s still here. Not getting any better, but not getting any worse either. Says God isn’t done with her yet.”

Just then, they heard Katrina’s voice from the bedroom. “Dave…Dave?”

Martinez jumped up and raced to the bedroom where his wife stood, leaning against the door frame. “What are you doing?” Martinez nearly yelled.

“They’re coming, hon. The bad ones. They’re coming. We got to get. We got to get now.”

B
urke followed Martinez back down the hall.
Now what?
He waited just outside the bedroom as Martinez gently guided his wife back inside and closed the door.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He heard Martinez’s voice through the door. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“Yes, we are. Fast. They’re coming, and we have to go. You can come in, John, I’m decent.” Burke hesitated a moment before opening the door, but he remained outside the room.

“Who’s coming?” Martinez asked.

Katrina turned to him. “Your friends, the police.”

Martinez raised an eyebrow. “Why would they be coming here?”

“Are you that dense?” Katrina asked. “Have you forgotten who you brought here with you, and why?”

“How would anyone know to come here?”

“Hon, I’m only told what I need to know, and right now I’m being told we need to get ourselves out of here.”

The big man squared his shoulders. “Trinny, we aren’t going anywhere. So what if the police come? I’m one of them. They’ll take John to the station for questioning. There’s no evidence he did anything.”

“She’s right, John Burke. You have to get out of here, now.” Burke spun at the voice and saw the red-haired girl. She looked exactly the same as she had the last time he had seen her. Her little face wore an anxious look, and her bare right foot tapped with impatience.

“What are you doing here?” he asked her.

She rolled her eyes. “Trying to save you. Now could we get moving?”

“Who are you, anyway? Why do you keep showing up?”

“Who’re you talking to?” Martinez said.

Burke half-turned, keeping the girl in his peripheral vision. “Red. She’s here.”

“Better listen to her, John,” Katrina said, “She knows what she’s talking about.”

Burke sighed with relief. “Then you see her, too?”

“I see her, in my own way. And I suggest we listen to her, since she’s giving you the same advice I’m getting.” Katrina wore jeans that hung loose on her skinny frame—only a tightly pulled belt kept them up—a cream-colored turtleneck sweater, and sneakers. Physically, she looked ready to drop, but strength and determination burned in her countenance.

“You’re both crazy,” Martinez muttered. “Completely loony. I’m the only sane one here.”

Katrina pushed past her husband, nearly running over the little girl in the process. Moving with a swiftness that belied her blindness, she grabbed her purse from the small table by the front door and turned back to the men. “I suggest we take the SUV in the garage. My wheelchair is already in it.” Her face was ashen, and Burke could see a look of loving pain on her husband’s face.

“Trinny, are you sure? You should be in bed.”

Katrina turned and walked to the kitchen, where she opened the door and disappeared into the garage. Burke watched as Red followed her. Martinez cursed and stomped off after them, grabbing the keys from a hook by the garage door as he went. “Come on, John,” he said. “You started this whole thing. Now we seem to be stuck with you.”

Burke wondered exactly how this was his fault, but he kept his mouth shut and followed the others to the garage. Martinez helped Katrina into the front passenger seat of the SUV while the little girl settled herself into the backseat. His wife radiated an urgency that was beginning to rub off on him, but he still felt confused and angry. He shot Burke a glare as he closed the door of the SUV. Burke really couldn’t blame him. Martinez was being forced to go against his instincts by a woman on death’s door who knew things she shouldn’t know, a possible mental case, and a little girl he couldn’t see.

Red looked up at Burke with her wide green eyes as he climbed in beside her. “We need to have a long conversation very soon,” he told her.

“If I can keep you alive that long.”

Martinez clambered into the driver’s seat and slammed the door. As soon as they began moving, he hit the brake. “Oh no,” he muttered.

Burke turned and saw a police car blocking the driveway. Through its passenger window, he saw a shadowy face that he could almost feel staring at him. “Well, what now?”

“Don’t stop,” Katrina said. “Keep going, hon.” The urgency in her voice was unmistakable.

“Let’s just go to the station, straighten this all out,” Martinez said.

“We’ll never make it to the station,” Katrina and the girl said at the same time.

Burke looked over at Red, but she just stared back at him. “Dave, the kid says the same thing. I don’t know what’s going on, but this is too weird to be coincidence. Someone’s after me. Maybe you should let them take me. I don’t want to drag you and your wife into this.”

Burke felt a hard slap on his arm. “Don’t you dare,” Red said to him. “I’ve worked too hard to get you this far. You’ve been a serious pain in the butt, and I’m not letting you blow it now.” Burke started to ask her what she was talking about, but Katrina interrupted him.

“John, I’m only going to say this once—shut up. This is bigger than you, bigger than all of us.” She swiveled her head, and her sightless eyes looked right at Red. “Even her.” She turned back to her husband and placed a withered hand on his. “Hon, you have to get us out of here. You have to protect us.”

Martinez sighed. “Get your seat belts on.” He slammed the shift lever into reverse. Burke thought they were going to ram the police car, but the SUV screeched to a halt as Martinez cut the wheel hard to the left and took off across his pot-smoking neighbor’s front yard. The back of the car skidded on the hard-packed dirt before grabbing traction and launching the vehicle onto the pavement. Committed now, Martinez didn’t even slow for the stop sign at the corner.

Burke looked back as they sped through the residential neighborhood. The police car was close. He knew the heavy electric SUV couldn’t ever outrun the gas police car. He could only hope Martinez’s driving skills would somehow prevail.

“They’re right behind us,” Burke yelled. He slammed against the door as the car slid into a left turn, then his body lurched the other way as they straightened out. His eyes fell momentarily on the girl beside him. She looked so tiny, sitting there with her short legs sticking straight out, dirty little feet barely reaching the end of the seat, and hands resting on her lap.

Screeching tires and sudden deceleration tore Burke out of his musings and sent him lunging forward. Only the seat belt kept him from slamming into the back of Katrina’s seat. Just as abruptly, he found himself hitting his own seat as Martinez floored the accelerator once again. He chanced another look out the back window and saw they had put some distance between themselves and the police car, but their pursuer was rapidly catching up on the straight stretches.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Burke yelled.

“Nope,” Martinez replied. “Open to ideas though.”

Another skidding turn sent Burke into the door. His head smacked against the window. He winced in pain. Putting a hand to his head, he looked at the girl beside him. “Any ideas?” he asked.

The girl shrugged. “It’s your city,” she said in a calm voice.

“Thanks, you’re a big help.”

“You’re welcome.”

“The ghost isn’t being very helpful at the moment,” Burke said. Through the front window, he saw storefronts in run-down strip malls fly by. The early morning traffic was just beginning to pick up as the car swerved between the slower vehicles.

Martinez glanced at his wife. “We have to end this, and fast. Trinny can’t take this beating.”

Burke heard Katrina say something in reply, but he couldn’t make out her words. Another police car, lights flashing, came into view in front of them, hurtling their way. Burke grabbed the seat in front of his as Martinez cut the wheel hard to the right, guiding the SUV into a narrow alley. Walls flew by on either side of them. In a moment, they emerged from the alley, into traffic on another road.

The whole vehicle lurched wildly as a car slammed into the right rear quarter panel. The SUV spun to the right, against traffic. Martinez didn’t hesitate, pushing the injured vehicle into the oncoming rush. Burke looked back at the car that had hit them just as a police car flew out of the alley and broadsided it. Another car piled into the side of the police car before the scene disappeared when Martinez cut into another alley. For several minutes, Martinez made random turns, working his way out of the area while Burke kept an eye out for police cars.

“Now what?” Martinez asked.

“The river,” Katrina said, “go to the river.”

“Where?”

“The camp, where we took the clothes and stuff. The homeless camp. They’ll take us in.’’

Burke wasn’t so sure of that, but he kept silent. He didn’t know of any homeless camp that would welcome more people, not unless they had money, food, or something else to barter with. He looked to his left to see how the girl had fared through the ride, but the seat beside him was empty. With a sigh, he laid his aching head back and closed his eyes. Part of him wondered when this nightmare would end, but the other part realized he felt more alive at this moment than he had since Laura and Sara had disappeared. Battered, bruised, and seriously confused—but alive just the same.

T
o Burke’s amazement, the homeless camp turned out to be just as welcoming as Katrina had predicted. The people were well acquainted with Martinez and his wife and seemed genuinely happy to see them. Though Katrina was nearly spent by the excitement, she insisted on taking the time to greet their hosts and give them a short version of what had brought the three of them there. After a few minutes, however, her exhaustion became obvious, and some of the women took her to a quiet place to rest. Martinez followed along behind, not letting his wife out of his sight.

While the women got Katrina settled, Burke found a spot away from the homeless clan and settled down against a tree. The homeless were known to be suspicious of strangers and none too fond of the police, but this group seemed different. They had welcomed the group with open arms, even knowing Martinez was a cop. Katrina said this camp consisted mostly of Christians. He wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything. As far as Burke was concerned, Christians were no different than anyone else, and, if anything, worse than most.

Burke glanced around the clean, well-kept camp. People talked quietly or helped one another prepare the morning meal, while a group of children played in a clearing nearby. To him, it seemed a proverbial refuge from the storm. A place to momentarily let down his guard and relax. If only he could.

After some time, Burke closed his eyes and let himself soak in the peacefulness of the moment. The smell of cooking fires and food wafted through the air. Burke’s stomach grumbled. He had no idea when he had last eaten. Right now, he felt ravenous. He inhaled a deep breath of the enticing scents, wrinkling his nose at the faint smell of urine. The breeze must be blowing from the direction of the latrines, he thought. These folks knew enough to keep their camp as sanitary as possible. They were not homeless due to their own carnal squalor as was the case with many of their kind. These people camped here out of necessity, driven to this level of survival by a society that claimed to tolerate everyone. Driven here, even, by Burke himself. Burke hadn’t known many Christians, but, as a lawyer, he had been relentless in fighting against Christians’ bigotry and hate, helping to force those who refused to change into the shadows of society.