Rebecca Coleman - Heaven Should Fall

“He wouldn’t want you to do this. And it isn’t going to work. They’ll connect this to you in no time. You heard what Drew said. He knew who Dodge is.”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. And you know why it all is.” He pointed savagely at TJ drowsing in my arms. When he spoke again, his voice sank to an aggressive hiss. “Why my life’s fucked up. Why Fielder’s downstairs. Why you’re stuck in this shithole, and why Elias is dead.”

“TJ’s got nothing to do with Elias.”

“Bull shit he doesn’t. Elias killed himself because I had you and he didn’t and he couldn’t stand it. Let’s just put it out there, all right? Let’s lay it all on the table. He came home from the Sandbox and he was doing okay in spite of it all—”

“No, he wasn’t.”

“Don’t cut me off! He was doing okay until I brought you home. I thought about this shit the whole way back from D.C., and there’s no point now in pretending it doesn’t exist. The VA had no business putting him on all those goddamn drugs and making it impossible for him to get up off his ass and get his life together. The fact that he couldn’t handle life anymore falls square on their shoulders. But just for the sake of argument, let’s say what it was that pushed him over the edge. It was him seeing that baby and knowing he was never, ever going to get a chance with you.”

“No,” I protested. But I knew it was probably true.

“And I love that kid with everything in me,” he continued. “I’d give him the world and it’s a damn good thing, because that’s about what he’s costing me. My freedom, my brother, my future, my loyalty to you—”

“ That’s not TJ’s fault,” I snapped. “Back off the poor kid and take some responsibility.”

“That’s all I ever do anymore is take responsibility,” he shouted. “I’ve given all I goddamn can, and it’s time for the people who owe me to pay up.”

“Your son and I owe you nothing,” I yelled back raggedly. TJ, who had been almost asleep at my breast, awoke all at once and turned his head to look at his father, eyes baleful and mouth agape. “And we’re the ones who are going to be paying.”

Cade scowled at me. “‘Let justice be done though the heavens should fall.’”

Leave, the instinctive part of my mind commanded me. Leave now. It’s time. Whether or not I would be implicated with the rest of them, there would be no avoiding the consequence either way, and for TJ’s sake I needed to press forward without fear. With my son clutched against my chest with one arm, I snatched up the diaper bag from the bed and, before Cade could step into my path, hustled down the stairs. As I reached the landing Cade grabbed my shoulder, sending the bag sliding down my arm and disrupting my balance. I spun toward the wall to compensate, and then Dodge was in front of me, blocking off the bottom of the stairs.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Dodge said. “Don’t you even think about going anywhere.”

“I’m taking TJ to the hospital for his surgery. Whatever it is you’re doing here has nothing to do with me. I don’t know a thing about it.”

“Get back upstairs.”

I met Dodge’s eyes. Cade’s hand gripped my shoulder again, and I shrugged hard, but he didn’t let go. “It’s easier for you if we’re gone,” I told him. “Babies need too many things. Let me out the door now and I won’t say a word to anyone.”

“It’s too late for that,” said Dodge. “They’re all around the house. Agents. FBI probably. Scooter, he was on his way over here and saw them coming up the road. Called to warn us—”

Not us, I thought. Me. All the pieces snapped into place in my mind: that when Cade texted him, he realized he had been all wrong in his prediction that they would wait until after TJ’s surgery. He had turned them in, most likely in a panic, and only realized after the fact that TJ and I were about to be caught in the net with the rest of them. He had tried to do the right thing, but it was too late and too complicated.

“Fuck my life,” Cade said. He let go of my shoulder and pushed past me into the living room. “Fuck!” he shouted toward the front wall.

“And they arrested him, or so it sounded like. Now they got people outside every door. And we’re just waiting.”

Dodge stopped speaking and looked toward the living-room window, but its dusty drapes had been drawn tightly against the night. Cade leaned back against the wall and gazed toward the ceiling with an empty expression, as though looking to God for instructions. I asked, “Waiting for what?”

“For them to make contact.”

I looked impatiently at Cade. The door was right there; everything within me pulled me toward it, and irritation was rapidly replacing my fear and disbelief. “Well, why don’t you take out your damn phone and call them yourself? It’s all over anyway, right? And your son needs to get to the hospital.”

Cade didn’t respond. He looked stricken. In the silence, Dodge spoke up again. “I told you Scooter was a plant. Like hell he just happened to walk into that one. Arranged to disappear before he got trapped in the house with us is more like it.”

“Shut up, Dodge,” Cade said peevishly. “It could have been anybody. Someone who saw your truck, someone who works with Bylina—Uncle Randy, even—”

Dodge cocked his head in rueful agreement. “Randy, yeah, it could be. Thanks to Miss Busybody over here.”

I scowled at him. “Why don’t you quit listening to yourself talk for five minutes and get the police on the phone so we can get out of this? Where’s Candy?”

“Downstairs watching our guest. She set the boys up in Grandma’s workroom. Cade’ll take you upstairs, too. Got to have someone keep them kids away from the windows.”

“No chance. I’m not babysitting so you can bicker back and forth with the police. Cade, give me your phone.”

He gave me a long, guarded look, as if he was considering it. Dodge said, “Goddamn, Cade, your little woman needs to see the back of someone’s hand.”

But right then, it rang. I took a step back from him and shifted TJ to the other hip, and Dodge took advantage of Cade’s distraction and mine to take me firmly by the upper arm and pull me out into the hallway. “Up the stairs,” he ordered.

I shook him off. “Don’t you dare.”

“Fine. Walk.” When I balked, he met my eye with a gaze widened by impatience. “You want to be down here if they bust in, huh? You think that’s such a smart idea? Best you and your boy be up at the top of the house, away from the people they want. And don’t think they’re going to give us any warning.”

As much as I hated him, there was a logic to what he said. I stepped onto the first stair and he nudged me forward. On the second floor the shades were all drawn. I held TJ firmly against me as I navigated the narrow staircase to the attic. In Leela’s workroom, the three little boys sat hunched around Dodge’s laptop from which came the tinny dialogue of a children’s show about George Washington. Despite the early hour, John’s face was a mess of red lollipop residue; Matthew, seated in the middle, wore his birthday rifle slung on his back as always. The little square of electrical tape over the webcam curled outward at its top edge.

“Tell Cade to tell them I need to leave,” I told Dodge. “That ought to be his priority.”

Dodge grunted a reply and thumped back down the stairs.

I set TJ down on the floor and shut the door. “Matthew, give me your rifle.”

He shook his head slowly, not raising his gaze from the screen. “‘This is my rifle,’” he quoted. “‘There are many like it, but this one is mine.’”