Flawed (20 page)

“Rein, there is no time. They’ll catch you,” Dyllon said, moving toward them. “You’ll never make it.”

Rein flipped around. “What would you have us do?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“So, no help from you.”

“That’s not fair,” interjected Trista. “He at least gave us warning.”

“There is no time for this crap,” Tim charged. “Dyllon, do you know which way they will be coming from?”

“Everywhere. The alert went across the channels.”

Tim’s gaze flicked to Sarah, an unknown message exchanged between them. She nodded.

“Okay, everyone down to the basement.”

“That pops out right on the side of the house. Anyone coming down the road will see us,” Woody said.

“Son, trust me. I never put all my eggs in one basket. Plus, there are weapons you need to take. If they find them during the search…” Shuddering, he glanced at his wife, then faced Woody. “I will protect her at all costs.”

“Let’s go.”

Tim opened the door and disappeared down the stairs, the headset cord flapping behind him. Woody took the radio from Rein and followed. Trista shook free of Dyllon’s grip and ran to Sarah, throwing her arms around her.

“Thank you,” Trista said. “I would have never found them without you.”

Tears sparkling in her eyes, Sarah patted her back. “Get going now.”

Trista pulled away, her hands enfolding Sarah’s. A small smile flitting across her unlined face, she let go and went down the stairs without looking back. Dyllon trailed behind.

“Sarah, thank you.” Rein said, giving their hostess a quick hug. “Stay safe.”

“You, too.”

Rein draped his arm around Ellyssa and started to lead her toward the mouth of the basement. “One second,” she said, breaking away and going over to Sarah. “I want to thank you. For all you and Tim have done. For sharing your home.”

“My pleasure.” Then, like the first time when she’d met the old woman, Sarah yanked her in for a big hug with hidden strength. “I know you,” she whispered. “Keep them safe.”

Blinking back tears, Ellyssa nodded.

“I know you will, dear.” She dropped her arms. “Go.”

Ellyssa went.

Yellow light arced across the floor from a hanging lamp, reflecting off the concrete walls. Like before, the basement was well-maintained, free of debris and dust, but a slight wet, mildew scent fragranced the enclosed space. The radio sat off to the side.

“Come here,” Tim said to Rein.

Tim and Woody were under the stairs where shadows reigned away from the light. A metal shelf full of tools and boxes piled upon boxes occupied the area with them. They were moving the boxes and handing them to Dyllon, who stacked them against a wall. Trista was tossing cartons of ammunition into a large duffle bag. Barrels stuck out from between the folds.

“Get that.” Tim pointed to a metal trunk.

Repositioning his pack, Rein ducked under the stairwell and pulled the trunk out by its handle.

“Shove it under the workbench.”

The metal scraped across the concrete floor, leaving behind marks.

“Ellyssa, grab those rifles on the bench. Let’s go, folks. Woody, grab on that side, and on the count of three, lift.”

As Tim started the count, Ellyssa swung two AK-47s over her free shoulder. Trista zipped the duffle back and dragged it by the stairs. Dyllon bent down and grabbed the handle.

“Argh,” grunted Tim, followed by a popping noise and more scraping.

Mostly hidden in the shadows, a door swung outward, creating a gap large enough for them to slip inside. Darkness waited.

“What?” Rein said, completely surprised. “Where does it lead?”

Hunched over, Tim came out from under the steps. Stretching back, with his hands on his lower hips, he groaned.

Sarah came down, a broom in hand. “This house is over two hundred years old, passed down through my family,” she said. “The tunnel was part of the Underground Railroad.”

Ellyssa had read long ago about the Underground Railroad, network for slaves to escape their owners with help of the abolitionists. Technically, the routes were not underground or railroads, but it seemed that was not always the case.

With nothing learned, history was doomed to repeat itself.

“You never said anything about that,” Woody said, astonishment coloring his words.

Tim chuckled, a dry sound without humor. “As I said, I never put all my eggs in one basket. In our business, we have to keep some things a secret. Now go.” He went and grabbed the radio, handing it to Rein. “Set this on the other side of the door.”

Einstein had said time was relative. It was true. Like back when Ellyssa had slunk through the vents in The Center, time crept by in her anxious fear of it running out. Here, in less than ten minutes, they had gone from horror in the radio room, to clearing under the stairwell, to revealing a door. Now their time had come to an end, and something new awaited them.

Taking the bag from Dyllon’s hand, Woody slipped through the opening. Darkness swallowed him whole.

Trista turned toward Dyllon, tears glistening in her eyes. “I guess this is goodbye.” She swallowed hard, as if to take away the sorrow lodged there.

Dyllon reached out and touched her cheek. “I can’t stay here. I’m coming with you. If they haven’t found the car yet, they will. I parked it in a grove after the call came through.”

“Like hell,” Rein said, his tone rumbling in anger.

Sea-green eyes slicing toward Rein, Dyllon countered, “If I’m caught here, they will kill us all. I have to go with you.”

Ellyssa nudged Rein. “He’s right. And we don’t have time. Let’s go.”

Muttering something indecipherable, Rein slipped through the gap. Enveloped in a cocoon of hope, Trista led Dyllon into the tunnel. Ellyssa sidled through and turned around. Tim thrust a flashlight into her hands.

“Good luck,” he said.

The last things she saw were Tim’s face and Sarah behind him moving the broom back and forth. The older woman stopped for a moment, and with a shaky hand, she wiped her cheek. A knock banged from above. Fear widening his eyes, their host pushed the door closed, cutting off the source of light. An earthy smell and darkness closed around them.

For a second, only the sounds of breathing could be heard, in and out, in and out. No one moved, no one said anything. Another knock, louder this time, put Sarah and Tim in motion. Thumping and scraping came from the other side of the door. A
thud
echoed against the door that Ellyssa guessed was the shelf getting moved back into place.

“Coming.” Sarah’s muffled voice drifted into the enclosed space. Soft thuds clumped above them.

Tim started to hammer something.

“We have to go,” Woody said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Okay,” Rein answered. “Be careful of the radio.” He relieved Ellyssa of one of the rifles and grabbed her wrist. “Let’s go.”

Ellyssa switched the flashlight on and pointed the beam down the enclosed hole. Black scampered and took up residence further away. Wooden beams and posts, rotten with age, buckled precariously. The radio rested in a groove next to the door where Rein had placed it. More clopping of leather soles sounded from above. Sarah yelled down to Tim. The hammering stopped, and his heavy footsteps moved up the steps.

In a straight line, as silent as possible, all of them stepped with care, following the light into the unknown.

Mathew sat across from Commandant Baer. The officer leaned back in his chair, regarding him with quiet disbelief. Mathew suspected the Commandant had expected he might show, though; none of the soldiers had stopped him when he made a trail through the snow from the barracks to the Commandant’s front door. Even the corporal had just gazed up when Mathew had entered before waving him on through.

A couple of minutes of silence later, Commandant Baer leaned forward. “I’m assuming the reason you barged into my office has something to do with the information I requested.”

Mathew stared at him. The commander wore his pristine uniform with the shiny adornments, his hair parted meticulously to the right. The huge desk sat between them like a river of betrayal.

What was he doing here? Did he really think he could sway Commandant Baer?

Mathew ignored the officer’s question and asked his own. “What happened to Eric?” He already knew the answer but needed finality to ice the top of his cake of guilt.

Commandant Baer frowned. “Eric?” He actually had the audacity to sound innocent.

“The man you murdered the other day.”

A smirk played across the Commandant’s lips. “I didn’t murder anyone. Insubordination requires punishment. Punishments are dealt in the appropriate manner according to the crime.” He placed his elbows on the desk and leaned closer, his teeth showing gloatingly. “You were all informed of the rules. In essence, when one breaks the rules, they are punishing themselves.”

“I think you killed him because of my refusal.”

The commander waved the accusation away. “As I said, you were informed of the rules.”

Anger licked through Mathew, like a raging fire. Fearing the words that dangled on his tongue, he looked away, composing himself. Nothing would be accomplished if he goaded the Commandant until his composure snapped and he sent Mathew to the chamber.

Would the commander harm him?

How much influence did Ellyssa’s sister wield?

After a moment, Mathew’s gaze met the Commandant’s. “We will discuss my reason for coming here. But first, I want answers.”

Commandant Baer seemed to consider his request for a moment before he finally settled back into his seat. “Go on.”

“How many women are left?”

“I’m assuming you mean from your group?”

“Yes, but I also want the total number.”

Pivoting his chair to the side, the commander looked out the window. Mathew followed his gaze. In the background stood the metal gate; two armed men stood at their posts. Closer toward the compound, glimpses of disembodied, skeletal heads popped in and out of view as the prisoners slaved away in the cold. Feeling guilty that he sat in warmth, Mathew averted his eyes.

While the Commandant stared out the window, seconds dragged into minutes. Mathew started to think he wasn’t going to answer. Finally, he swiveled back around.

“I want make perfectly clear to you that any attempt to try to escape or help anyone else will only prove to be fatal for you…and the rest of your group. Like your
friend
, their deaths will be on your hands.” Mathew cringed, and the guilt that he already harbored tore a chunk out of his heart. “My first priority is the security of my establishment. Do you understand?”

Mathew held no doubt of the truth in the Commandant’s words. He nodded.

“Out of the twenty females who came in with you, only nine remain. There are a total of seventeen women.”

Shocked, Mathew fell back in his chair. “Only nine?” he muttered.

“Women tend to be more troublesome.”

Mathew didn’t reply. Tears building in his eyes, he turned away.

Nine? In less than a month, eleven had perished in this hellhole. Alone. With no one by their sides
.

Anguish shattered in Mathew’s chest, heavy and unyielding. A knot formed in his throat, one he didn’t think he would be able to choke back down. He couldn’t bear to even look at the commander, much less talk. If he tried too soon, he’d crumple in despair. Surprisingly, the Commandant sat in silence while Mathew tried to put himself back together.

After a long while, hatred overshadowed sorrow, and within it he found bits and pieces of strength to pull himself together. But like weak glue, the binding threatened to dissolve.

With dry eyes, he faced the officer. “You killed them all.”

The commander’s face didn’t show a hint of regret. Nothing at all. Just as stone-faced as before. How could a being kill innocents without feeling something? Then, he remembered the look of glee as the Commadant’s crop had come across his Mathew’s face and flesh, and he understood. Any members below society’s standards were nothing more than animals. When the Commandant punished, it was no different to him than stepping on a bug was to Mathew.

“I’ve already explained the process of punishment.”

“Can you give me their names?”

He shook his head. “None of you have names.”

That was something Mathew could understand. Easier to kill when your victims were dehumanized. No identity. Just the face of the enemy.

“I see.” The glue started to liquefy. He had to get away before his composure turned to jelly. Mathew stood.

For a moment, the stony countenance shattered as Commandant Baer rose to his feet. “I believe there are more things to discuss.”

Mathew’s gaze held his. “I will provide the information you seek, but I can’t right now.”

Once again, Commandant Baer seemed to consider, and once again, he surprised Mathew. “Do not come back until I summon you.”

Knowing he had to grab on to as much of the upper hand that he could, Mathew straightened his back and lifted his chin. “Summon me tomorrow.”

A vein pulsed on the Commandant’s forehead, but he didn’t comment. He gave a curt nod, dismissing Mathew.

Mathew opened the door and wasn’t surprised to see the same two soldiers who had brought him for his first visit with the Commandant standing in the front office. He stepped between them.