Running:
I usually run in the morning when I'm fresh and eager--except during the winter when I have to convince myself to get out in the cold. I don't mind running in the snow, but I love clear roads. My best winter runs have occurred on sunny days under a brilliant blue sky with highs in the low 30's and absolutely no wind. It's happened maybe once, but I keep dreaming...
Writing:
Talking about dreaming--it's early afternoon and I want a nap. Can someone please unchain me from this computer? I'll share my chocolate... I promise I'll post another chapter later...
Writing tip: There are times to write and times to sleep. And do other things...
Secrets at Midnight
Leona Palmer Haag
Chapter 34
Blind.
After reading the single word four times and
looking around the cabin to see if she was missing something important and
obvious, it dawned on Jenn that Matt had left her a note concerning his
whereabouts—the hunter’s blind he’d mentioned. As she pulled out eggs to
scramble for breakfast she took a quick inventory inside the cooler. They were
running low on meat but still had hotdogs and beef patties. Would he bring back
venison? She wondered how she’d cook deer meat. She’d figure it out if forced,
but she’d keep Katie away from the butchering process. Her eyes lifted to the
back window filled with sunshine where a wren twittered from the railing.
Watchtower. That was how he considered the blind.
Matt was holed up in a watchtower—a place to play
cops and robbers without harming anyone, even Bambi. That was a relief!
Katie tired of the cabin’s toys long before Jenn
hoped that morning so she took a flashlight into the dark pit below to find
more. A tangled web of disarray met her—ropes, gear, junk, trash—a yard sale
without buyers. She shook dust off an old boom box. Matt would never turn on
the generator so she couldn’t sing along. She stashed it in a heap she vowed
she wouldn’t disturb.
A grimy backpack caught her attention—it had an
open top and two holes in the bottom. Useless, except to carry stuff up the
ladder. She tossed in a few handy odds and ends. Upstairs, she cleaned up the
pack and set it on the deck to dry, then headed for the front yard—meadow—swing
with Katie.
“Everything is quiet,” Matt said when he entered
the clearing.
“Because Montana has been evacuated. We should go
too.”
He chuckled. “Nice try. What’s for lunch?”
“Surprise me.”
Matt paused to tickle Katie on his way to the
cabin. A short time later he announced lunch was ready. After eating he leaned
back in his chair. “I caught a link a while ago.”
Silence filled the cabin. Finally Jenn said what
she knew he wanted to hear, “And what does that mean to us?”
“I don’t know.”
She stopped wiping off the countertop and faced
him. “Then why mention it?”
He shrugged. “Another agent is down. They found his
body. It’s Natalie's partner, Pete Williams. It looks like someone with inside
information is responsible. The office speculates there might will be
simultaneous terrorist attacks on the east and west coasts. Maybe over gun
running, with weapons flowing in through Mexico. The main hit will probably be
D.C., New York, the president, or economic centers. A big city or two in California
will be targeted to attempt splitting the country apart.”
Jenn sat across from him and laughed. “I heard that
theory after September Eleven. Dream up a new scheme so you don’t sound so
stupid.”
“New scheme, old scheme—makes no difference if it
works. I’ve seen better and worse. Most don’t happen.”
“Because you’re the hero?”
“Partly.”
She sighed and got up. “All this excitement about
the world ending is exhausting. I need a nap. Hurry and tell me how I figure
into world peace and the stability of civilization.”
Matt smiled, pulling out of a somber mood that had
overtaken him. “I’m not sure why a little girl who manages a day care center is
involved. Are you a secret agent?”
She snorted. “Yes. Undercover, I enroll students
and teach music and art. Very dangerous. Kazoos and finger paints are deadly.”
Grinning, Matt said, “You don’t run an underground
drug line on the side?”
“No, but I compute payroll, and believe me, the
whole country is concerned about that.”
“Do you cheat on taxes?”
“No. And do you know how stupid everything you’re
saying sounds? How would I possibly fit into your elaborate terrorist scenario?
Give me a story good enough to believe—but also won’t keep me awake at night.”
A beach ball bounced against Matt’s knee with
Katie in hot pursuit. He kicked it away and she chased it, squealing. He turned
back to Jenn. “Kid, you got into this solely because you married brains—or
maybe stupidity. If Nick wasn’t…”
Jenn jumped up and jabbed a finger into his chest.
“Nick is not stupid! He's a thousand times smarter than everyone I know, and
that includes you, Mr. J!”
Almost tumbling from his chair, Matt held up his
hands. “Whoa! Jenn! Everyone in this business is stupid. Picture it this way:
It's like we're always standing in a fireworks factory flicking a cigarette
lighter. It’s not safe, but we’re not backing off. We do what we do because we
choose to.”
A finger jabbed again. “Nick is not stupid!”
“Maybe not, but I am. I should be selling life
insurance instead of sitting on a mountaintop waiting for the world to end—as
you so adeptly put it. I’d rather be in the middle of the battle.” He jumped up
and strode across the room, plopping down on a sagging sofa. He rubbed his hand
over a shadow of beard, then looked up. “I wish I was home as much as you do.
You’d be baking muffins and I'd be in the office. You’d be breaking something
like your mixer and I'd be trying to fix a corner of the world.” His head
lowered into his hands.
Jenn marched across the room and faced him.
“Instead, you're stuck with me and my baby and calling my husband stupid. We
can leave now if you want! Give me exactly ten seconds to grab my baby and bags
and we’ll be out the door. Once we’re back in something called a town, you can be rid of us and save the
entire universe for all I care—all without our help or interference!”
Katie climbed into Matt’s lap and he tussled her
hair. “Being with you isn't bad, Jenn. It's being stuck in a hole—without
complete information—that’s frustrating.” He looked up. “We’re in the exact
same place as Nick—in a hole.”
When Matt buried his face in his hands again Katie
pulled them away giggling, “Madd—boo! Madd—boo!”
“I’m sick of boo,” Jenn whispered.
He faced her. “Me too, but if Katie wants it, she
gets it.” He grabbed the toddler and tickled her. She scrambled off, giggling
with each boo.
Sinking into a sofa, Jenn watched Matt chase her
daughter. She called across the cabin, “Are we leaving?”
He caught his victim and tossed her in the air.
“No.” He set Katie down. “I’ll be back for dinner.”
The cabin quieted after Matt left and Katie settled
down to nap. Jenn checked the locks and the views from the windows, then
checked Katie again before checking locks. All afternoon she could wander the
same circle of checking windows and locks like a crazy lady, she decided, if
she didn’t divert her attention. She closed the curtains, placed an end table
in front of the door and curled up beside Katie.
Fitful dreams submerged her, but she never surfaced
until a soft creaking sound intruded. Her eyelids jerked open, expecting to see
the door pushing open with the end table scratching across the floor, but she
found Katie sitting in a shaft of sunlight playing with floating dust motes. A
spring in the old sofa complained. That had been the sound—just Katie in play.
That was the way life should be.
Jenn swung her feet off the sofa and went to the
back door, pushed it open and stepped out. Below lay the bottomless ravine—not
an escape route from the cabin. Out front waited the Jeep, but Matt had the
keys. Nothing could pry them away physically, but maybe a well-rehearsed speech
would work.
That night she sat across from Matt on the cold
hearth and rubbed her chilled arms. “I’m sorry I’ve been hard on you, Matt. I
appreciate what you've done for me, but I'm not worth the effort and I don't
need a babysitter. I'll pack my last few things so we can leave in the
morning.”
“You’ve been a trooper,” he said.
“A whiner. You don’t need me around.”
He leveled his gaze on her. “You okay?”
Tears budded in her eyes and she shook her head,
losing the closed-book face she’d attempted. “No. You’re getting what you want
and I’m not. You threw me in your car, kidnapped me, and stole my freedom.”
Matt let out an exasperated sigh. “That’s not how
it is.”
“Liar! You wanted to come here, so here we are. You
want to stay here, so here we sit. You get what you want. I cook and clean and
do everything you say like some mindless puppet, and in return I get Montana in
the dark ages.”
He hung his head.
Jenn hardly believed he felt remorse. “Why are you
torturing us? Katie is just a baby and….”
“She’s not complaining.”
“She’s too little and innocent so I’m doing it for
her. We used to be friends. Is this how you treat a friend? What do you think
Shawn will do when he finds out you’re worse than Gary and Danny?”
Matt jumped up, stopping her flood. He tossed his
phone into her lap. “It’s been a long, grueling day, Jenn. Keeping you alive
isn’t exactly easy. I'm going to do a few calisthenics before I take a shower.
Try to get a satellite connection. Call Nick or the office or your brother or
anyone you want. Play a game if that's the only thing available, but we’re not
going anywhere until I know it’s safe.” He snatched the phone back before she
could respond, and pushed a few buttons. “There. It’s unlocked. Push one for
the office if you want to talk to Marshall. Two is Monica but she’s still not
answering, three is you, four might reach Nick, and if you want to talk to
Curtis, push five. Don’t worry about six through nine, but if you like talking
to strangers, give them a try. They’re agents—primed to be secretive—so don’t
expect answers, but who knows, maybe this is your lucky night.” He yanked off
his shirt and dropped to the floor and began doing hyper-speed push-ups.
Jenn turned her back on the distraction. She pushed
Nick’s number a dozen times. Nothing. Marshall didn’t connect. She hesitated
before she tried Monica, then caved in. The phone didn’t respond. She tried
Nick a hundred more times. No use. She began pushing random numbers. Nothing.
“Your phone is junk.”
Matt grunted.
Starting at number one, Jenn’s finger raced up and
down the keypad, without luck. After number seven or eight, there was a brief
connection. For the first time she felt hopeful about going home. “What should
I say if I reach someone?”
“Anything you want. Vent if it helps.”
“Is there a special code?”
“Yeah, but don't worry about it. They’ll figure out
they’re talking to you.”
Fingers shaking, Jenn pushed buttons, primarily
number four, but skipping through the others now and then. Minutes ticked away.
“Any luck, kid?” Matt asked.
“Nothing. Either I'm doing things wrong or there's
no link.”
Matt crossed the room and looked over her shoulder.
“You're doing it right. Keep trying. I'll take a quick shower and take over. There’s
no guarantee we’ll get a link tonight.”
“Will the battery die first?”
“I doubt it, but if it does, take it out to the
Jeep to charge.” The keys landed in her lap—a good omen.
Matt headed for the bathroom and Jenn pushed number
four a hundred times in succession. Nothing. She randomly pressed numbers as if
trying to poke life into a dead phone. Nothing—until a faint green line darted
across the bottom of the screen. “Matt!” she squealed. The shower water kept
running so she wrote: Nick?”
A line appeared: H?
Jenn stared at the letter and question mark. They
made no sense. She tried to remember what number she had pushed, but wasn’t
sure. She wrote: Who did I reach?
The screen turned black. Dead.
Jenn hit Nick's number again, pounding in frantic
rhythm. No response. She hit one number after another until the green line
returned. She wrote: Anyone there?
A response came back: Who is asking?
Ice prickled up Jenn’s arms. Caller ID would reveal
she had Matt’s phone. She slowly wrote: M. Jensen.
Where R U Mrs. W? popped onto the screen.
Relief flooded through her—someone knew she
existed! She wrote the state abbreviation: MT.
U OK?
Yes. Please help me!
The screen went dark. The link was gone.
Frantically, she tried again. The link popped up, but was lost before she could
contact anyone. Once more it popped up and failed. The next connection held and
she wrote: Help!
The screen blinked, but the connection held. A
reply came back: Husband home. Searching for you. Are you in Montana?
Jenn wrote: Yes.
Eternity seemed to pass before a reply arrived: Be
careful. Jensen is lethal. Wants ransom for you and child. Will kill if
provoked. You have gun. Use it. Defend yourself. Kill Jensen. Don’t wound! Kill.
Kill. Do it NOW!
Jenn swore under her breath as she rammed the Jeep
keys deep inside her pocket. She wrote: It’s night. Where should I go?
Another delay preceded the reply: Will send
instructions. Follow carefully to receive them press green phone symbol 3
times. Press 4th time and hold 5 seconds. Instructions will appear
on screen. Memorize them. Follow precisely. Don’t reply. Do NOW!
Jenn read the instructions again, making sure she
knew them. Once, twice, three times she pressed the green phone button with her
heart pounding. She pushed again and held the button down and slowly counted to
five, then released it. The screen flashed red three times like hot flames.
Startled, she dropped it into her lap, but snatched it back. Random letters and
symbols flashed across the screen in ascorbic colors. The screen turned black.
Totally black.
She waited, heart pounding, sweat beading on her
forehead. The shower water continued. “Hurry, hurry,” she chanted under her
breath.
Nothing. No instructions. Just blackness.
She thumped the phone with the palm of her hand.
Nothing. She mentally counted to fifty. Nothing but darkness. No instructions jumped
out with the thumps. A soft sound whispered through her brain. She paused and
held her breath to hear better. There was no
sound. That’s when she realized there had been no soft sound, only the absence
of sound. The steady flow of water had ended.
Heart jumping from her chest, Jenn frantically
pounded the numbers on the phone. Nothing! The bathroom door creaked open and
candlelight poured out. “Still at it, Jenn?” Matt called.
She gulped, dislodging terror from her voice.
“Yeah, but—but this phone is a piece of junk. I bet it’s never worked.”
Matt chuckled somewhere behind her.
Slamming the phone onto a cushion she rose. “Your
turn. I’m going to bed.”
Matt stood tall, dark and shadowy at the base of
the stairs. He reached out and she cowered back. “Keys?” He held his hand out.
Hugging herself, she rubbed her arms for warmth. “I
want to keep them.”
“I know.” He snapped his fingers. “I get what I
want, remember? Hand them over.”
She dug them from her pocket and thunked them into
his palm. She raced up the stairs with his parting words drifting upward:
“Sweet dreams.”
End Chapter 34
Good night, ya'll.
No comments:
Post a Comment