Lunatic Revenge (10 page)

“No!” Tara screamed, and began running from one pile of debris to another, tearing through limbs, pulling aside pieces of corrugated iron and insulation from houses, but there was no child, alive or dead.

All of a sudden a chill ran through her body. She stopped, took a deep cleansing breath and made herself focus, and just like that the answer came.

Look up.

And she did, straight up into the branches of an old spreading Oak tree recently denuded of leaves, to the fork high above her head and the tattered blanket waving in the wind that had caught among the limbs.

The branches were thick and forked in such a way that from where Tara stood, the blanket almost looked like a hammock.

Suddenly the hair on the back of her neck began to crawl. She could hear whimpering. And when she saw a tiny hand appear over the edge of the blanket, she gasped.

She spun to look behind her. Nate was a good block away, maybe farther, and the family even farther away than that. She didn’t dare yell at Nate for fear the sound of her voice would make the baby move and fall. She heard the whimper again and knew there were no seconds to spare.

There was a moment when she wished she was wearing tennis shoes instead of boots, but that was her only hesitation. She shed her raincoat, reached for the lowest limb and pulled herself up. Then little by little she began climbing, using the spreading limbs as her pathway to Gracie.

It felt like forever, but she finally reached the fork in the branches where the blanket was caught. She pulled herself up, then peered over, straight into the face of Gracie Littlehorse.

The toddler was covered in mud. Her rain-soaked clothes were bloodstained and beginning to dry, but when she saw Tara, she lifted her arms as if begging to be picked up.

Tara hesitated for fear she’d make matters worse in case the baby had broken bones, but Gracie was moving her arms, trying to kick the blanket off her legs and she was moving her head from side to side, as if trying to see where she was at. It was all the proof Tara needed that her neck and back were not broken.

Tara lifted her up into her arms. Gracie wrapped her arms around Tara’s neck so hard Tara could feel her trembling from shock.

“I’ve got you, Gracie. Don’t be scared. You’re okay now,” Tara said, patting the toddler’s frail, muddy back.

From this high up, Tara had a bird’s-eye view of the storm’s path. She couldn’t believe Gracie had been carried this far by the storm and be alive, and yet here she was.

She looked off in the distance and waved. Nate saw her and waved back, but he was running—his aches forgotten—his exhaustion a thing of the past. She leaned back against the limbs and began patting Gracie’s back.

“You must be a very special girl, Gracie Littlehorse. You flew with the storm last night and lit in this tree just like a bird to roost.”

Gracie whimpered.

Tara kept patting her back. “I know, honey, I know. Uncle Nate is coming. Your mama is coming and your daddy, too. It’s going to be okay, little girl. You’ll see.”

Minutes later, Gracie Littlehorse’s family surrounded the tree, all of them talking and crying at once. It was Nate who silenced them.

“Hush,” he said. “The louder you are, the more Gracie will struggle. She’s alive by the grace of God. Let’s keep her that way.”

Gracie still had a death grip on Tara’s neck. There was no way she could hold onto the child and climb down at the same time.

“I don’t think I can get down with her,” Tara said.

Nate looked up. “Don’t move. We’ll come up to you.”

The family was so focused on getting Gracie down they didn’t notice the rescue was being filmed by a news crew from an Oklahoma City television station that had come down to cover the damage.

Nate went up the tree first. John Littlehorse started up the tree behind Nate, with Nate’s father, Martin, going up behind John. They kept climbing until they were spaced up in the branches like members of a bucket brigade.

When Nate reached Tara he was so elated his heart felt like it was pounding out of his chest. He kept touching Gracie’s muddy little body, just to reassure himself this wasn’t a dream, then looked at Tara, in awe of what she’d done.

Tara sighed. “I told her she flew with the storm last night and came to roost like a little bird. She won’t let go.” Tears began to roll down Tara’s face. “Oh Nate
 . . .
she’s so scared. I can feel her little heart beating all the way to my bones.”

He swallowed past the lump in his throat and looked down. John was just a couple of branches below him, and his father, Martin, was standing on the lowest branch, about six feet above the ground, ready to hand the baby off to Delia, who waited below.

He looked off in the distance. His Mother and his nephew, Mico, were still over two blocks away, but it was time to get this done.

He put his hand on Gracie’s back. “Gracie
 . . .
it’s Uncle Nate. Wanna go see Mama?”

Gracie was still holding onto Tara, but the familiar voice and the word Mama got her attention. “Mama?”

“Yes, baby girl. Come to me.”

In the end, he had to tear her arms from around Tara’s neck, and when he did, she began to scream. There was no soothing her—no talking to calm her. She cried all the way down, from Tara to Nate—from Nate to John—from John to Martin—and finally from Martin to Delia. The moment she was on the ground and in Delia’s arms, a cheer went up from the news crew.

That’s when the family realized the rescue had been filmed. The news crew had already alerted an ambulance that a baby had just been found alive up in a tree and it was enroute to the scene to transport her

Tara was the last to climb down, and when her feet touched ground, she was shaking.

Nate threw his arms around her and hugged her fiercely. His body was trembling as much as his voice. “I will never be able to repay you,” he said, as he reluctantly turned her loose.

Tara combed her fingers through her hair, her voice shaking from emotion. “Payback isn’t how this works.”

“I know, but you know what I mean. Come on. I’ll take you home.”

“I can’t go home.”

Nate frowned. “But—”

Tara picked up her raincoat and put it back on, shivering as the coat sheltered her from the chill wind.

“Someone else is lost. I made a promise to help the searchers find him.”

Tara started walking and Nate followed.

“I don’t understand. When did you—”

“There’s a body trapped beneath a roof. The man’s spirit is still there, waiting to be found. He won’t cross over. He knows I saw him. I told him I’d be back.”

Nate was speechless. “I never thought—” Then he began looking around. “Are their others? I mean—”

Once Tara was no longer focusing on Gracie there were voices coming at her from every direction.

“All I can handle is one at a time.”

“I won’t leave you,” Nate said, and then couldn’t bring himself to look at her. The devastation in her voice was enough for him to know what this was doing to her, and he was right.

Tara was shutting down her emotions. She already knew it was the only way she’d be able to get through this. Millicent was absent, and Tara hadn’t seen Henry at all. The energy of what had happened here still lingered to the point that it was beginning to feel like she was walking in mud. Her legs felt heavier with every step. It was good she wouldn’t be doing this alone.

She started walking, following the pull of earth-bound spirits and walked until she saw the roof lying upside down and the spirit beside it.

When he saw her, the relief on his face was evident.

You came back.

Tara nodded. “I told you I would. I’ll tell them where you are.”

My name is Tom Lewis.

“Tom Lewis. I’ll tell them,” Tara said.

The light. It’s for me, isn’t it?

Tara nodded. “You can go now. I won’t leave until they find you.”

And just like that, the spirit was gone, absorbed within the flash of light that she’d glimpsed.

Tara pulled out her cell phone and turned to Nate.

“Do you know the name of this street?”

He looked around for a street sign, but they were either bent to the ground or completely missing. Finally, he noticed a daycare sign on the opposite corner.

“No, but we’re on the same street and just a little west of where the Little Toddler Day Care used to be.”

Tara called the police but kept getting a busy signal. That left her with no other option than to call her uncle again. He answered quickly.

“Hi honey. Did you find the girl?”

“Yes, but now I need your help for something else. Is there a rescue crew anywhere close to the north side of Stillwater where the Little Toddler Day Care used to be?”

“Hang on, honey. I’ll find out.”

Tara looked back at Nate. “He went to ask.”

Nate kept staring at the roof and the debris. “I don’t see the body anywhere.”

“He’s under the roof,” Tara said, and pulled her raincoat a little closer up under her chin.

He shuddered and looked away.

“Tara, are you still there?” Pat asked.

“I’m here, Uncle Pat.”

“There’s a crew heading your way right now. It’ll be a few minutes, no longer, okay?”

“Yes, thank you. I have to go.”

She dropped the phone back in her pocket and turned her back to the wind. “Help is on the way,” she said, then turned and looked across the street.

“What is it?” Nate asked.

“Another voice. Watch for the crew, will you? I’ll be right back.”

Before he could stop her, Tara was running across the street. Someone was trapped, but she wasn’t sure where. Then the moment she touched the debris, in her mind she saw a face—and felt a heartbeat. This one was alive.

“Nate!”

He heard her and came running. “What’s wrong?”

“A woman is trapped in here and she’s alive. Help me look.”

He stopped her. “No, you’re gonna get yourself hurt. Look. There comes the search crew. We’ll tell them, okay?”

A truck pulled up on the street. The driver, a man named Joe, hit the brakes as the crew in the back jumped out.

Tara ran to meet them and pointed to the upturned roof. “There’s a body underneath that roof. The man’s name was Tom Lewis. But there’s a woman trapped across the street who is still alive. We need to hurry. She’s in shock.”

“Where is she?” Joe asked, as they moved toward the wreckage.

“I’m not sure. I just know she’s here.”

Joe stopped. “Look, kid, this is serious business. We don’t have time for jokes.”

Tara felt sick. “I’m not joking, please. You have to believe me.”

Then one of the men from the crew stepped forward. “Hey, I know you. You’re Tara Luna, aren’t you?”

Tara nodded.

“I helped dig up that body in your back yard. I get where you’re coming from, kid. Just point the way. We’ll do the rest.”

“What are you talking about?” Joe asked.

“Trust me. She’s the real deal,” the man said. “So we need to start looking. If she says someone is alive in this mess, then it’s true.”

They began moving through the debris, looking under collapsed walls, behind an overturned vehicle, everywhere there was a place to look, and then all of a sudden someone shouted.

“I’ve got her! She’s in a bathtub underneath this wall and mattress.”