Linda Warren - Forgotten Son

Caroline fell again and Eli again helped her to her feet, then they trudged on toward the fence.

Caroline stumbled once more, but this time she didn’t get up. Darkness surrounded them and Eli couldn’t be sure that she was aware she was out of the room. Or if she was functioning rationally. She seemed lifeless and spent, but he would not give up on her. He’d get her out of here.

He picked her up and carried her, while she whimpered in protest. He kept walking through the bushes.

Freedom wasn’t far away.

Eli kept his mind and sight on that one thing—freedom. His arms ached, as did the muscles in his back, but he didn’t stop. He hadn’t saved Ginny, but he was determined to save Caroline Whitten.

The farther they went into the woods, the thicker the darkness became, impeding their progress. Eli moved through the brushy areas on pure instinct. Branches scraped their skin and tugged at their hair, but he didn’t pause. He stepped into a hole and almost went down, but managed to stay upright with Caroline in his arms.

Just when the journey seemed endless, Eli saw the silver fence glistening in the moonlight. He stopped beside a fallen log and sank down, loosening his hold on Caroline, who eased to his side.

“You okay?” he asked, taking a deep breath.

“Yes.”

“The fence is about fifty feet in front of us. It’s eight feet high and made of barbed wire and mesh. You have to climb over it. Do you think you can?”

“I’ll try.”

Eli shook his head. “No. You have to do better than that. Ahead is freedom and behind is Amos Buford. If you don’t make it across, he’ll kill both of us.”

She trembled. “I’m so weak and my head’s fuzzy.”

“I know, and I’ll help you all I can, but you have to help yourself. You have to make it over the fence. When you reach the other side, run as fast as you can. Don’t look back and don’t wait for me.”

She wrapped her arms around herself.

“Do you understand?”

She nodded, but Eli wasn’t so sure she did. It didn’t matter. He’d literally carry her across if he had to.

“Rest for a bit, then we have to go,” he said.

“What did you say your name was?”

He was taken aback for a moment, but pleased. She was asking questions. That meant her mind was functioning.

“Elijah Coltrane, but everyone calls me Eli.”

“Thank you, Eli, for getting me out of that room.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, loving the way she said his name, soft and low with a husky undertone.

“I lost part of myself back there—my pride, my dignity and my self-esteem.”

“It’s called brainwashing. Buford and his cult are very good at it.”

She shivered and tightened her arms.

“It’s almost over. We just have to get over the fence.” He paused. “Are you ready?”

She took a ragged breath. “Yes.”

He stood and cocked his head, hearing a sound in the distance. The Dobermans were coming. Damn. Buford knew they were gone, and the dogs were on their trail.

Their time had just ran out.

“What is it?” she asked in a worried voice.

“They’re coming. I can hear the dogs.”

“Oh no!”

“Remember what I told you. Get over and run, and don’t look back.”

He grabbed her hand and they sprinted for the fence. Eli heard the yelps of the dogs, getting closer and closer.

AT THE FENCE, Eli caught her around the waist and lifted her in the air. “Reach for the wire and start to climb. Even if the barbs cut you, keep going.”

Her bare feet brushed against him. “Dammit. Where are your shoes?”

“Back there,” she replied, grasping a wire.

There was nothing he could do about that now. He climbed behind her, acting like a shield as he boosted her up. He’d forcefully shoved her to the top when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement as the dogs charged toward the fence.

Caroline was over. “Run, run, run!” Eli shouted.

He made to swing over the top, but one of the dogs leaped into the air and clamped its teeth on his right arm, banging him against the fence. Suspended in air, the canine fiercely held on to his prey. Eli struggled to dislodge it, but the dog’s jaws were strong.

Caroline turned and saw Eli struggling with one of the dogs. She ran back. The Dobermans saw her and switched their attention to her, lunging against the fence. This broke the other dog’s concentration and it fell to the ground, freeing Eli, who also tumbled to the ground—but on the right side of the fence. He quickly jumped to his feet and grabbed her hand. They hurried into the woods as the first clan member reached the fence, yelling unchristian words at them.

Eli kept running, pulling Caroline behind him. On and on they raced through the thicket. Eli’s arm burned, but he didn’t pay any attention. He had one goal—to get them to the country road and safety before the clan caught up with them.

They passed through thicket after thicket, then into a valley lined with tall grasses, and into dense woods again. Eli kept a firm grip on Caroline. She was holding up well and he admired her spirit. His own legs grew tired and his chest was tight with exhaustion, but he never wavered or stopped. He wasn’t sure if Buford and his men would follow, so he wanted to get them far, far away.

Finally, Eli tripped, and they tumbled in a heap on the spring grasses. Neither moved—they were too exhausted. Caroline lay on top of him for a moment, then moved to his side to lie on her back.

He sucked air into his starving lungs. “You okay?” he gasped.

“Yes,” she breathed, panting, then pointed to the sky.

“Look, Eli, look.”

He glanced up and saw the sun peeking above the treetops, heralding a new day. He took joy in that. He’d found her and they were out. Buford would not control or ruin her life. Eli took joy in that, too.

“That’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen,” she said, her eyes shining as the morning sun chased away the night, the darkness.

He looked at her and saw her clearly for the first time. Her blond hair was dirty, as was her skin and clothes, but her green eyes were bright with wonder.

“Isn’t it, Eli?”

He lost the gist of the conversation, but quickly recovered. “Yes,” he answered, his eyes never leaving her face.

She brushed back her hair and he caught sight of her hands.

He sat up and reached for them. “Oh, my God.” Both palms were scratched and bleeding, the blood caking with the dirt on her skin.

“They’re okay,” she said, pulling her hands away and sitting up.

His eyes traveled to her bare feet, then he lifted a foot to stare at the bottom. He closed his eyes briefly. The sole was one bloody mess, and he knew she had to be in a lot of pain. Dammit. He should have carried her when he realized she didn’t have any shoes on. But after the encounter with the dogs, he’d just wanted to get her to safety. He unlaced his sneakers.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“You need something on your feet.”

“Your shoes are too big for me.”

“I know,” he said. Pulling off his socks, he gently slipped them on her feet. “That’s not much, but it should help.”

“Thank you.” She touched his arm. “You’re hurt, too.”

His right sleeve was torn and bloody. “It’s just a scratch.” He put his sneakers back on and got to his feet.

“We’d better make it to the road.”

He bent to pick her up, but she pushed his arms away. “No, you’re not carrying me.”

“You can’t walk on those feet.”

She stood. “Watch me.”

He grunted. “God, you don’t take orders very well.”

“No. Now let’s go.” Her eyes held his. This woman was a fighter, a survivor. Buford and his clan would never have been able to brainwash her. She would have died in that dark hole of a grave. Eli wondered about the “others” that Ruth and Amos had mentioned. How many women had died in that makeshift tomb?