wasn’t fair to any of them for her to be among them, drawing the attention of the enemy. She needed to leave. She thought of trying to explain this to Chris, or even to say good-bye to him, and grew an unexpected ache in her throat. She would just go, then. Once they hit the streets, she’d say good-bye to Tyler and head out of town. He might try to follow her, but she knew how to keep herself hidden. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.
Thoughts of other days, other trips, other missions crept in around the edges of the walls she’d built to keep memories at bay. Other days when she’d found herself part of a tapestry unfolding, what most of the Oneness just called a plan. She wasn’t sure how plans worked when you weren’t part of the Oneness anymore, although others certainly had roles in them; but she was quite sure she didn’t want her part, whatever it was, to unfold here. Better to get as far away as possible and hope to draw the whole tapestry after herself.
Tyler had already started trudging along the beach, and he called over his shoulder for her to follow. She did, planning ahead as she went. They were going to have to climb up into the base of the cliffs to avoid the incoming tide; the hike didn’t look easy. It might be dusk by the time they were nearing the town, so it wouldn’t be hard to slip away—perhaps even before they hit the streets. It was from a cliff height not far from here that she had jumped only two nights ago, but she barely remembered the paths she had taken then. She shivered a little as she pictured what might happen once she got away from Tyler and struck her own way into the cliffs—she would be vulnerable out there and not hard for the enemy to kill. An image of herself lying wounded or dead in the evening darkness made her shudder. For some reason death did not feel so welcome now.
* * *
April winced as she pulled her wrists against an outcrop of rock for the thirtieth time, pulling and sawing at the tape that had been wrapped in multiple layers around them. Her head had calmed to a raging but regular ache, and the pull against her hands and arms helped distract her from it. Besides, she was almost through.
The last bits of tape snapped through, and she wearily unwound the long strips and dropped them on the rocky floor. Having her hands free would do her no good as far as escape, but it went a long way toward making her more comfortable. Just in case, she wandered to the barred door, grabbed the grid, and shook it. The racket of iron against stone rattled painfully around her head and nearly turned her stomach, but it was secure. Miserably she returned to the spot on the floor where she could lean against a fairly smooth part of the rock wall, and she wondered how long she’d been here. And before that—how long had she been out? It seemed to her it was getting darker in the cave, indicating that it was getting late in the day. Whether it was the same day she’d been kidnapped or another one altogether she had no idea.
Suddenly realizing she’d been wearing a watch when she went out, she glanced down—it was gone. With a heavy sigh she leaned her head forward, resting it on her knees once again. She felt horribly weak, and for the first time she considered that she was hungry. She still had no idea why she was here, and she wondered if she would ever know. It would not be beyond the enemy to let her starve here … wherever “here” was. The thought almost made her smile. The enemy were cowards. More than one of the great saints, the Oneness who were most powerful and effective in the service of the Spirit, had been killed in these offhanded ways so that no one of the enemy would be found with blood on his hands. Maybe this prison had been used for the purpose before. April had no illusions about being a great saint, of course. She lived in a three-person cell in a tiny village overlooking the sea, and her work for the Spirit so far had consisted of
Thoughts of other days, other trips, other missions crept in around the edges of the walls she’d built to keep memories at bay. Other days when she’d found herself part of a tapestry unfolding, what most of the Oneness just called a plan. She wasn’t sure how plans worked when you weren’t part of the Oneness anymore, although others certainly had roles in them; but she was quite sure she didn’t want her part, whatever it was, to unfold here. Better to get as far away as possible and hope to draw the whole tapestry after herself.
Tyler had already started trudging along the beach, and he called over his shoulder for her to follow. She did, planning ahead as she went. They were going to have to climb up into the base of the cliffs to avoid the incoming tide; the hike didn’t look easy. It might be dusk by the time they were nearing the town, so it wouldn’t be hard to slip away—perhaps even before they hit the streets. It was from a cliff height not far from here that she had jumped only two nights ago, but she barely remembered the paths she had taken then. She shivered a little as she pictured what might happen once she got away from Tyler and struck her own way into the cliffs—she would be vulnerable out there and not hard for the enemy to kill. An image of herself lying wounded or dead in the evening darkness made her shudder. For some reason death did not feel so welcome now.
* * *
April winced as she pulled her wrists against an outcrop of rock for the thirtieth time, pulling and sawing at the tape that had been wrapped in multiple layers around them. Her head had calmed to a raging but regular ache, and the pull against her hands and arms helped distract her from it. Besides, she was almost through.
The last bits of tape snapped through, and she wearily unwound the long strips and dropped them on the rocky floor. Having her hands free would do her no good as far as escape, but it went a long way toward making her more comfortable. Just in case, she wandered to the barred door, grabbed the grid, and shook it. The racket of iron against stone rattled painfully around her head and nearly turned her stomach, but it was secure. Miserably she returned to the spot on the floor where she could lean against a fairly smooth part of the rock wall, and she wondered how long she’d been here. And before that—how long had she been out? It seemed to her it was getting darker in the cave, indicating that it was getting late in the day. Whether it was the same day she’d been kidnapped or another one altogether she had no idea.
Suddenly realizing she’d been wearing a watch when she went out, she glanced down—it was gone. With a heavy sigh she leaned her head forward, resting it on her knees once again. She felt horribly weak, and for the first time she considered that she was hungry. She still had no idea why she was here, and she wondered if she would ever know. It would not be beyond the enemy to let her starve here … wherever “here” was. The thought almost made her smile. The enemy were cowards. More than one of the great saints, the Oneness who were most powerful and effective in the service of the Spirit, had been killed in these offhanded ways so that no one of the enemy would be found with blood on his hands. Maybe this prison had been used for the purpose before. April had no illusions about being a great saint, of course. She lived in a three-person cell in a tiny village overlooking the sea, and her work for the Spirit so far had consisted of
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