Joshua (Book 2): Traveler (19 page)

Martinelli was laying out in the front yard and was much the same, the same kind of holes all over his body. It appeared his death was just as unpleasant as Cornwell’s but he also had the privilege of being the first.

They found D’Cruz around back, or at least they thought it was; he was stripped too and his head was gone. If it wasn’t for his wounded arm they couldn’t have been sure it was him at all. From the amount of blood, Rob was certain he was beheaded alive.

For only the second time since she had known him, James could hear panic in Rob’s voice. “Let’s get out of here, before they come back.”

The both of them came around the building and Alton stood there in the front yard of the church.

Rob instantly fired his rifle from the hip and hit Alton in the chest. At the same time Alton ran right at him, unloading his M4 as he closed the distance between them to nothing.

Alton hit him with all the strength he had left and both plunged to the ground.

They rolled around a few moments, a single mass toiling, covered with snow and blood. Suddenly Rob broke free and was back on his feet again. He stood up; his right arm was bloody, hanging there lifeless by his side. He tried to reach for his revolver using his weak hand.

Alton pulled the pistol from its holster and started shooting from the ground. But his hand was badly shaking and he was firing wildly; he didn’t even come close to hitting his former boss.

Rob ran around the back of the church and right for the woods as Alton continued to fire. He left a heavy trail of blood behind him.

This entire time James stood there stunned, unable to speak or move. When the gunfire ended, the trance was broken and she came to Alton’s side.

The girl quickly approached her friend, a smile on her face, “You’re alive. Rob told me you died.”

Alton lay there, bloodied and broken. It was obvious, at least to him, that his time had come. “Rob has been known to lie, at times. I was hoping you wouldn’t come back ... but at least you missed the party.” Alton managed a small laugh as he continued to gasp for air. “James, you’re going to have to go. Take the Beretta, there’s still a few rounds left. My pack is behind that truck just down the road. Take it, there’s some food in it and some other things you’re going to need to survive.” He stopped to catch his breath again. “You need to go, James, now, before Rob finds enough guts to come back.”

She tried to get Alton to sit up, “Please get up. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

By now the sun was down over the horizon and darkness was quickly falling. The snow began to fall heavily on the ground. It started collecting on Alton’s clothes.

She tried to get him up again, “John, please get up. Come on, you can do it, at least try.”

Alton was struggling with every breath now, “I’m all used up, I can’t go. I couldn’t walk ten steps. You have to go, James. You have to find a place where you can belong, not here with guys like us.”

Suddenly there was a loud blast behind the girl and she instinctively jumped. Alton’s face exploded, the bullet taking his lower jaw completely off. Instantly John was gone and she was covered in his gore. She turned to see Rob, bracing himself and his revolver on the back corner of the church, taking aim with his weak arm again. He fired once more and she could feel the bullet as it went right by her.

She got up and took off running for the truck. In a moment there was another shot, and another, but neither were close. She found Alton’s pack and started running again as she kept her head down low.

James ran into the black void, the heavy snow coming down all around her, with no idea where to go.

Chapter Twelve

James kept running most of the night, keeping down and trying to stay close to cover, only making short stops occasionally to catch her breath. She was exhausted, cold and hungry, and had no idea where she was going. There was no time for mourning, she had to concentrate on staying alive right now.

It had been hours since she was shot at and the snow kept piling up. She didn’t think Rob followed but couldn’t take that chance. The girl also knew she couldn’t survive much longer out in the cold.

As she made her way through the snow and half frozen mud, she looked for shelter but nothing was to be found. There had been a couple of vehicles by the road but all the windows were broken out.

Eventually James couldn’t stand it anymore. She looked around for the nearest tree, fuel for a fire to keep her alive. She had to get warm, even if Rob tracked her down.

She made it to the nearest old tree and started collecting fallen branches. As she kneeled on the ground, stacking them for a fire, the girl noticed something far off, there in the distance.

It was just a small speck of light hanging there in the blackness. Although it wasn’t much, it told her all she needed to know. The speck told her there was someone out there in the dark, someone with light and heat, maybe someone that could help her stay alive.

The girl started trudging through the snow as it only got deeper, towards that single small hope she might survive.

She continued her marching, frequently falling to the ground. The small spot of light began to grow, but slowly. But her strength was fading and nearly gone now; nonetheless, she kept going as long as she could. At long last she fell to the ground and this time didn’t have the strength to get up again.

James lay there numb from the cold, staring at the spot of light not too far off, and the girl knew it was her time to die.

Chapter Thirteen

She awoke to the sound of good people talking and laughing, a sound so wonderful to hear. Her hands felt the blanket that covered her. She was in a warm bed, the late morning sun shone down of her face. For a moment she thought it might be heaven. The sound of a woman’s voice nearby quickly drew her attention.

“She’s up.” A woman came into the room. She was in her early forties, a little thin but appeared healthy otherwise. Her long light chestnut hair had one thin line of white there at the temple and it was held in a loose ponytail. The woman came to her side and sat down next to the bed.

“How are you feeling?”

Several strangers, three men, three women, and a boy holding a tot came near the door. They all stopped to gape at their visitor from just outside the room. All of the adults seemed a little thin but both children looked well cared for.

The woman asked again, “How are you feeling, honey?”

At last the girl found her voice as she stared up at this stranger. She had no idea where she might be or who this woman was. “I’m okay.”

“Can you feel your fingers and toes?”

She felt her fingertips with her thumb, “Yes, they seem fine.”

“I didn’t think you had frostbite but I wanted to make sure. What’s your name?”

The question brought a moment of confusion, and then clarity came. “James ... I ... I mean, Hannah. My name is Hannah Leightman.” She smiled, it was almost a revelation, “My name is Hannah Leightman.”

“Well, Hannah Leightman, my name is Carol Avery. I’m glad to meet you. Where ...”

Hannah had something she wanted to confess right away, “I’m a girl. I want you to know that. I’m not a boy, I’m a girl, and my name is Hannah Leightman.”

“Okay ...”

“I’m a girl.”

“All right, Hannah, but you didn’t need to tell me. I could see that myself.” With her eyes Carol indicated there was something under the girl’s blanket she needed to see.

Hannah lifted the blanket, her rotten old clothes were gone and replaced by a clean and warm flannel sleeping gown.

“You were filthy when Frank found you. You were covered with blood ... and stuff. It was all over your face and your clothes. It was even in your hair.”

“Oh ... yes, I forgot.”

“I had to undress you, to get you cleaned up. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No ... thank you for saving me. I thought I was going to die.”

“You’re welcome, Hannah ...,” Carol paused for a moment then went on with a question that had to be asked. “That blood, it wasn’t yours, was it?”

The girl tried to speak, but instead starting crying. Carol moved over to the bed and reached out, taking the child in her arms. “No. It was John’s. He was my friend and Rob killed him. Then he tried to kill me ...” The girl struggled to continue, but Hannah began sobbing so loudly she couldn’t be understood anymore.

Carol held her tighter, “It’s okay, Hannah, you’re safe here.”

The girl wept uncontrollably and it took several minutes before she was coherent again. At last she regained some composure, “I’m sorry,” Hannah blotted her eyes with the cuff of her gown, “You must think I’m a little baby or something.”

Carol at last lessened her hold. “No, we don’t think that, Hannah. It’s clear you’ve been through a lot. Talk about it, if you want to.”

“No, not now, maybe sometime though.”

“All right, but promise me that when you do need to talk about it, you will. Don’t hold it inside. If you don’t want to talk to me, at least talk to someone.”

“Okay ...”

“You feel up to meeting the rest of us?”

The girl looked back to the door; the same group was still watching her from the outside. They were wearing a differing collection of friendly or awkward smiles.

She wiped her eyes again, “Okay ...”

Carol waved them in, “Come on in, guys,” and the group poured through the doorway a few at a time.

There was Frank, he was Carol’s husband and this old farmhouse belonged to the two of them. Like his wife, he was around forty, although his dark brown hair had the gray of a man ten years older. He was of normal height but appeared quite gangly.

Brigid and Jason Henderson came in behind Frank. They looked to be in their mid-thirties but with their affable faces they might have been older, the girl just couldn’t tell. But no matter their age, they were honestly friendly; they were like those good-natured neighbors everyone used to know.

A tall, attractive couple was the next to step inside. They were in their early forties too and brought their only son. Bohdan and Vira Hubenko immigrated here from Ukraine in 1995; they were both twenty at the time. They originally settled in Boston but moved to Columbus nearly ten years ago. After it all came apart they ended up here. Vira was a natural blonde beauty with stunning blue eyes; she might have been a model in another life. Bohdan was good looking too, although his appearance was slightly marred from some light acne scaring there on his cheeks. Both spoke perfect English through their heavy east European accents. Their son was named Adam, he just turned nine and had his mother’s hair and eyes. He was born in Ohio and looked just like the all-American boy that he was.

Danielle Dawson was the last through the door and she brought with her a beautiful one-year-old boy. She was alone; her husband was killed before their child was even born. Danielle was twenty-three and kept her striking red hair cropped short, although it wasn’t quite as harsh as Hannah’s was. She introduced the joy of her life and told the girl his name was Nicholas as she at last managed to get him to smile.

Hannah tried not to but started crying again.

Carol took the girl in her arms once more, “All right, I think maybe she’s had enough. Let’s not overdo it on the first day. We all have things to do.”

The entire group said their good-byes and quickly left the two alone in the room.

The older woman tried to comfort the younger one, “Are you going to be okay? Am I going to be worrying about you all of the time from now on?”

Hannah stopped crying and wiped her eyes, “I’m sorry ... Danielle’s baby, he reminded me of another Nicholas I knew. He was killed too, I’m sorry.”

“Why, for having feelings? You’ve been through a lot, Hannah. You are not a robot; you’re a person and people sometimes hurt. Don’t try to hold it inside. Are you sure you don’t want to tell me about it?”

“No, I’m okay, now.”

“All right ...,” Carol stood up from the bed. “I have to get supper started. Why don’t you take a nap. When you feel up to it come on out.”

She left the girl alone there with her thoughts, Hannah spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon crying, trying not to think too much about all she had been through.

Carol peeked in around four to tell her supper was ready but the girl said she wasn’t very hungry right then.

Hannah could hear all of them through the door at the dinner table, laughing and talking like friends do.

At near five in the afternoon, she finally got out of bed, sitting down in front of an antique vanity there by the window. Clearly it had been cherished for a very long time. Hannah picked up a tube of lipstick from a collection of makeup in a tray on top and examined it.

Carol came back into the room and shut the door behind her, “You feeling better?” She pulled a chair from the other side and sat right next to the girl.

“Yes ... a little bit. You’re going to keep bothering me until I talk, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, that’s the kind of person I am. My husband says I’m only really happy when I’m trying to fix someone else’s problems.”

“I’m sorry if I offended you. I’m grateful for all you’ve done.”

“Don’t worry, it’s hard to offend me. My husband is right. If I see someone with a problem I just have to try and fix it. And Hannah, you seem like a girl with a problem.” She pointed out the lipstick in the girl’s hand. “You wear much makeup?”

“No.”

“Never had a chance?”

“I was thirteen when this happened. My parents, they just started to let me wear makeup, but only on special occasions. I got to wear some to dances a few times. They wouldn’t let me wear too much, though; Dad said ‘his little girl’ wasn’t going out looking like a ‘floozy.’”

A smile quickly formed on Carol’s face, “Yeah, my dad said the same thing. I think all dads do.” She took the lipstick from Hannah and popped the top off, then handed it back to the girl. “That’s my favorite shade of red, it’s my husband’s favorite too. I use to wear it when I wanted to really drive him wild. I used to love getting dressed up, going out. Frank would open the door for me. Every once in a while, usually on our anniversary, he would even take me dancing. He doesn’t look like much of a dancer, does he?”