I start to turn around with my hands in the air. I only make a quarter turn, when my left leg is kicked out from under me and I need to grab a tree to keep from falling.
“Nobody said to turn around,” the man corrects, then backs off a few steps.
Now I can hear three other people approaching through the trees at varying distances.
“The real Gethsemane is a much friendlier place, wouldn’t you agrees Martha?” I say.
“Definitely,” she replies. “Try that with me, Cameron, and I’ll whip your butt like I always have … only now I’ll do it Roman style.”
“Martha?” says the voice. “Cephas Paulson? We saw that the cult hunters took out Bethany House and thought you were dead.”
I turn around, and can see at least five dark figures among the trees.
“Thought we were dead? Everyone from Bethany House survived. You’ve had no contact with any of the others who were there? They should have contacted the other houses a long time ago,” I say.
“It’s not the other houses who’ve been cut off. It’s us. Come on. Let’s get underground where we can talk,” Cameron says.
It turns out that we were standing just twenty meters from a hidden entrance and the cameras had been watching us since we passed around the west side of the building. All they had to do was take up positions and wait for us.
When we get inside, I finally get a look at the team that captured us. Cameron is a muscular man, nearly two meters tall, with dirty blonde hair and intense blue eyes. There’s a scar on his right temple that could easily be removed; so I assume that he’s deliberately chosen not to do so. The rest of his team are equally fit. Apparently this house prides itself on physical training as much as Bethany used to pride itself on technical expertise.
The building has a massive basement that was not part of the original building. It’s been carved out by Four over the last decade, just as was done at Bethany. I see a large number of computers, a machine shop, and even a small chemistry area. Cindi sees it too, and I wonder if she’s wishing she still had the vaccine sample.
We climb up a ladder and pass into the warehouse itself through a hidden trapdoor. Coming from Bethany, we’re accustomed to leaving the surface building in a natural state; so it looks abandoned. It feels strange to be in such an open area, but since the building has few windows, the staff here no longer worries about prying eyes.
About a quarter of the warehouse is devoted to a real shipping business that specializes in providing couriers for fragile or extremely valuable goods. Cameron explains that the business allows members of Four to travel all over the world without raising suspicions. They even have a spur on the tube line and unrestricted access to cargo cars.
One corner of the building holds an indoor gym and training area, which explains why everyone here looks so fit. At the far end of the building I can see massive water storage tanks, but when I turn to ask Cameron about them, my thoughts are lost when I see that his only interest at the moment appears to be my wife. I want to get angry, but talk myself out of it. I imagine him as a ten-year-old boy, growing up off the grid. He probably only knew a few other kids and he chose Martha as the one he wanted to be with - regardless of her feelings on the subject. I bet things only got more uncomfortable when they became teenagers.
“How do you know Martha?” I ask.
“I was raised off grid outside of Ogallala, on Lake McConaughy. My parents would take me into town to play with other kids who were off grid,” he says. “How do you know Martha and Cindi?”
Here’s another leader who asks questions, to which he already knows the answer.
“You already know that they were both on the team sent to kill me,” I reply.
“Stop,” Martha says, and playfully swats me on the arm.
Cameron’s eyes widen slightly, and he looks angry. He knows Martha well enough to see the affection she put into the swat - like he’s seen it before.
“But Martha decided to capture me instead.”
She reaches down and takes my hand, ending the conversation and prompting me to go back to my previous train of thought.
“I can’t help but assume that you got our last messages from Bethany. That’s a lot of water you have stockpiled,” I say.
“We’re approaching one hundred thousand liters.”
“What will you do with it if Sheridan ends up like McIntosh?”
“Hole up and make it last as long as possible.”
“Will you share it with those who need it?” I ask.
“Anyone anticipating a need for clean water should be storing their own.”
I drop the subject, as we enter a room with chairs and a large table where we can all sit.
I try to give Martha a look asking her to take the lead. I want to observe the people of Gethsemane House as they interact with us, particularly Cameron. I need to know if we can trust them. If she got my non-verbal message, she either ignored it or knows these folks well enough to have a better plan. The lull allows Cameron to be the first to launch into the questions on his mind.
Martha knew he’d show his cards. Very good.
“What happened at Bethany House?” he asks. “Judging by the crater, it looks like they hit the place with a missile.”
“I ordered it blown up so it couldn’t be captured.”
My answer sets him back for a moment; so I start to ask the questions. If he wants to see me as a challenger for the role of alpha male, so be it.
“How many times has your perimeter been tested?” I ask.
His face goes wide first with surprise and then settles into a look of deep suspicion. He wears his emotion on his sleeve, so I’m determined not to do the same for him. Seated behind Cameron is a younger man, named Andrew, who is observing me carefully. It’s apparent that they’re brothers, even though Andrew has a lighter complexion and white-blonde hair. Apparently we’re also playing a game of ‘good cop, bad cop.’
“How do you know about that?” Cameron asks.
“Until you confirmed it just now, I only suspected.”
Andrew nods slightly and the corner of his mouth turns outward into a smile of respect.
“As to why I suspected: I saw the computer monitors when we walked through downstairs. Two of them were newer than the rest, which implies you’ve recently added more cameras. Before that, it was your willingness to kick me even after I suggested we approach with four fingers raised. That implies you don’t know who to trust anymore.”
Cameron may not be good at keeping his emotions in check, but he has the icy stare perfected.
I glance at Martha and her look implies pride in her husband - but also a warning to not push Cameron too far.
“The day after Bethany was destroyed, two men did exactly what you did,” Cameron says. “They approached with four fingers up and we let them walk right in through the front door. They said Garai wanted to talk to us about working together, which is pretty strange, because Garai’s never wanted anything to do with us. So we let one of them work in our system to call Garai, but he tripped some security protections. It turned out he was trying to get the locations of all the other houses of Four - not knowing we don’t write that stuff down. We kicked them out, but two times since then we’ve seen people lurking at the edge of our perimeter.”
“How did Garai know the location of this house?” I ask. “We found it in part because I grew up here.”
My statement causes Andrew’s eyebrows to rise.
“I’m told that Garai visited here about ten years ago, when his uncle was running the show and he was second-in-command of his organization,” Cameron replies.
Ten years ago. The year my parents were killed. How interesting.
“And that’s about the time your communications were cut off?” I ask.
“Yes. The problem isn’t in our systems; so we’re thinking that it’s some sort of external jammer.”
Cindi and Martha nod agreement.
I remain quiet as I think, so Cameron continues.
“Nobody’s heard from Austin for a month, and Zip’s trapped at McIntosh. Since you’re alive, I guess that makes you our leader now. So, what’s your plan, leader?” he asks.
I stare at him for a while.
Cameron’s a natural leader, but doesn’t want the job. Why?
“You’re the guy Zip planned to send to command Bethany House, aren’t you?” I ask. “Why weren’t you with her at McIntosh? For that matter, why aren’t you there right now, leading an attack to break her out?”
My questions touch a nerve.
“I wasn’t there because I was leading the other half of her brigade at Maggie Valley. The half that was blown to bits at Garai’s deathtrap.”
“Garai’s?”
“Yeah. He’s the one who provided the location of the vaccine facility. I guess his spies forgot to mention that the place was rigged with bombs, and that armed drones could be there in two minutes, if called. We never knew what hit us.”
“How’d you escape?”
“We set up a command post on a high spot a couple of klicks away to direct the teams. I got to watch them all die. So, you’ll excuse me if I don’t feel like watching my friends at McIntosh die when the next wave of missiles is called down.”
His eyes drop to the table, and don’t come back up.
He’s obviously torn up over what happened to his people at Maggie Valley, and there’s nothing I can think of to say that will comfort him. Sometimes you just don’t know if a guy needs a bear hug or a hard slap across the face to help him through his misery.
“Where’s your backup location?” I ask, and realize that it makes me sound cold.
“It’s a shack across the river,” Andrew says. “I can take you there.”
“Good. I need to make a few calls, but my plan - when I get back - includes a little diversionary operation in town that I think would be right up your alley.”
*****
Andrew leads Cindi, Martha, and me through a tunnel that takes us all the way to the river. Once we’re in the woods, I let Cindi and Andrew move ahead of us so I can speak with Martha.
“So that’s the guy who swore he’d someday father your children,” I say. “He doesn’t seem like your type.”
“We grew up together. When you’re off grid, you get close to the people who’re also in your situation,” she replies.
There’s more on her mind that she isn’t saying.
“He seems like a capable leader,” I say.
“He’s prone to bold moves, and can be reckless.”
“He’s dedicated to his people.”
“He can be selfish and arrogant.”
“He loved you once, and still wants to.”
I say it as if it carries no more meaning to me than my other observations.
Martha stops in her tracks. Her head drops, and she sighs.
“Must you observe everything?”
“You never loved him back. That’s why he wasn’t significant enough for me to see in your memories when we time travelled; but you still feel guilty, probably because you hurt him.”
“Please stop.”
“I’m sorry, Martha. I need to know if I can trust him with our lives. Everyone in Four is well-trained in self-defense and stealth; but with him, it’s different. He’s sick of playing defense and wants to play on offense for a while. What happened at Maggie Valley has him on the ropes; but he’ll be back, and I have a feeling that the time is going to come when I’ll need him to play a very aggressive offense.”
“What you can’t observe is that Cameron is a man of great faith. Convince him that you’re on God’s path, and he’ll follow you to his dying breath,” Martha replies.
“What about Andrew?” I ask. “He isn’t the warrior that his brother is. He seems more like the people at Bethany, in that he looks for solutions other than combat.”
“Andrew is the tactician, Cameron is the battlefield commander,” Martha says. “You can trust them both.”
We’ve walked downriver to the point where the tube line crosses overhead. Andrew and Cindi are waiting for us, talking and catching up like old friends. We’re probably not supposed to overhear the end of their conversation, but I catch Andrew saying: “Married by Simon Peter himself?” and “There’s no way I’m going to tell him. Let Martha do it.”
They go silent when we approach.
“How do we cross the river?” Cindi asks.
Andrew points up to the bottom of the tube, which runs about twenty meters above the river. There’s a metal ladder, so we all start to climb. When we reach the top, I find that there’s a platform the three of them have squeezed onto, but there’s no room for me.
“These cables run all the way across. They were put here for maintenance drones to clip onto as they inspect the outside, but we use them as a zip line,” Andrew says.
“The lines have a low spot in the middle,” I say. “How do you propel yourself up the other side?”
“Grab the rungs.”
He points to the bottom of the tube. There are two sets of metal rungs that follow the cables like horizontal ladders.
“I only have three harnesses. I’ll trail a rope behind me so you can pull mine back when I’m over,” Andrew says.
The three of them set off, leaving me alone on the platform. Moments later, I hear someone ascending the ladder, and Cameron’s face pops into view. I make room for him on the platform.
“I’d hoped to find you here.”
“And I’d hoped to speak with you alone,” I reply.
“They’re only trailing one rope. Maybe instead of waiting here, we should cross the old-fashioned way.”
“I didn’t see a boat down there.”
I say it with a smile, which he doesn’t return.
“Hand-over-hand on the rungs,” he says.
“That seems a little reckless. A fall from this height - even into water - would likely kill you … if not from the fall, then from drowning - with two broken legs.”
I try to stare into his eyes in the darkness.
“Reckless? Reckless is sending people into a building that’s been rigged to explode,” he replies.
Whatever is happening inside his head, he needs this.
“Oops,” I say innocently, and drop the trailing rope.
Cameron smiles, as I grab the first rung and start out across the darkness.
“We both wanted to talk. Do you mind if I go first?” I ask.
“Go ahead.”
He’s not straining at all at the effort, while I wonder if two hundred meters of monkey bars is more than I should have agreed to attempt.
“With the possible exception of Zip, you’re the most aggressive leader I’ve encountered in Four,” I say. “I think the fact we’re hanging here, risking our lives, is proof of that. We call this the True Holy War, and I think you’re looking for a leader who’ll take you into the sort of battle you want to fight. I think you want to go one-on-one. Good versus evil, to the death.”
“I don’t see a way around it,” he replies. “After what happened at Maggie Valley, I don’t see that I’ve got anything left to lose. The cult hunters are willing to slaughter people; so we should be willing to slaughter them. The toxin’s going to get us all anyway … so why not go out fighting in the name of the Lord.”
“I’m not here to lead you into that battle,” I say.
“Then you’re not the leader I need.”
“If that were true, you’d be in McIntosh right now, instead of talking to me. I believe you’ve been called to do more than just slaughter people, Cameron.”
He says nothing, so I continue.
“I’m told you’re a man of great faith,” I continue.
“That’s right,” he replies. “More faith than you I think. I have faith that, with the Lord’s help, we can win the battle.”
“I assume you’ve read the Bible; so I’m sure you’ll understand what I mean when I say that things today aren’t so different from when Jesus walked among us,” I say. “Israel had Rome to contend with, and we have Henry and The Corps. Some people believe that Jesus got so many followers so quickly because they thought He was going to take up a sword and slaughter the Romans. Some also think that they turned on Him quickly, and crucified Him, because they were disappointed when they realized He wasn’t going to do that. Taking up the sword was their plan, not His.”
My arms and hands are killing me, and I’m audibly straining at each rung, even though we’re not yet in the middle.
“What happened at Maggie Valley was not part of His plan, and I don’t believe He can use you in His plan if you continue to follow that path,” I say. “I can show you a better path, if you’ll trust me.”
“Right now, I’m not seeing it, Cephas. All I’m seeing is another reckless leader like Zip - one who has a lot of faith, but no plan. You’re about ten rungs from falling into the river. Did you just set off into the dark with faith that God will give you the strength you need to make it across?”
“Actually, I’ve learned one must not test the Lord,” I reply. “I knew right away that I’d never make it, but I had faith that the Lord would give me a place to rest when I needed it.”
As I say it, I spy two small platforms on the central support pillars that stand in the center of the river.
Cameron laughs. We each take a platform, facing each other.
“You wanted to talk to me and we’re going to be here for quite a while, as I rest. What’s on your mind?” I ask.
He contemplates for a while, not knowing if he really wants to have the conversation or not.
“It’s about Martha. I noticed her flirt with you, and hold your hand. I’ve known her for a long time and I care about her a great deal. I need to know if you really care about her, or not. You’re kind of a worldwide star, and I’m wondering if she’s blinded by your fame. I just don’t want to see her get hurt, you know?”
“You want to know if I really love her, or if she’s just some current curiosity that I’ll get bored with and toss aside,” I say.
“Yes.”
“Have you ever been in love with someone?” I ask.
“Yes. But she didn’t feel the same way.”
“Did it hurt?” I ask.
“Like a knife wound. I thought I’d gotten past it, but it turns out I haven’t.”
“Does that knife wound make you wish you’ve never loved her? Do you wish you could go back and erase her from your memory?”
He contemplates my question, but doesn’t answer.
“Getting hurt is a risk we take every time we fall in love with another person,” I say. “Sometimes I wonder if that’s why this world seems to have so little love left. It was the one hurt we couldn’t numb with a pill. Somewhere along the line, we forgot that being in love is worth the risk.”
“Are you trying to tell me something?” Cameron asks. “Because it sounds an awful lot like you’re admitting that I’m right.”
“You are right. Loving me is going to hurt Martha someday. I know it, and I think she knows it; but the potential for pain doesn’t diminish the value of being in love. God wants us to have His love - and each other’s - despite being hurt sometimes.”
“If that’s true, then let her go, Cephas. Don’t put her through it. Think of her, instead of yourself!”
I think of nothing but her. I’ve even been willing to disobey God for her.
We stare at each other in the dark.
“You said that loving you is going to hurt her - but you never said how you feel about her,” Cameron says, after a minute.
How could words ever describe it?
“I’ll tell you, because I think you’ll understand,” I say. “I love Martha in the way that aches whenever we’re apart, and my heart skips a beat when I see her again. I love her so much that I sometimes question whether she could possibly love me back as much - not because I doubt that she loves me, but because it feels like nobody else on earth could possibly have the same capacity to feel as much as I do for her. I love her like the Lord put her on earth solely for the purpose of showing me how to fully love another person - if only to give me the smallest glimpse into the love He felt for us when He died for us on the cross.”
We sit in silence for a while longer.
“Keep resting,” he says. “I’d like to be alone for a minute, and I’d like to go talk to Martha - alone,” he says, then grabs a rung and starts swinging away.
“Cameron, stop. You need to come back.”
“No, thanks,” he says as he moves across two more bars.
“Martha and I were married by Simon Peter in the Sea of Galilee, and she’s carrying our baby,” I say rapidly.
Cameron loses one hand on the rung, but quickly regains it and swings back and sits on the platform opposite to me.
“You saw fit to mention that when I’m hanging twenty meters above a river?” he asks.
“I needed you back here as quickly as possible, and I was pretty sure that would get your attention.”
The words are barely out of my mouth, when Andrew and Cindi zip through at high speed, as they reach the low point in the cables. If Cameron had still been hanging on the rungs, Andrew would have collided with him and knocked him off. We hear both Andrew and Cindi say: “What the …?” as they pass.
“You crush me, and save my life, inside of thirty seconds,” Cameron says. “Maybe you’re the kind of leader I’ve been seeking after all.”