Abandoned Memories (43 page)

She screamed. Wind whipped her skirts against her legs, stinging her skin. Rain slapped her face. And an overwhelming terror gripped her that she would never be beautiful again.

“The
L
ORD
seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the
L
ORD
looketh on the heart.”

Yes. Yes. She closed her eyes and hunkered down against the wind. That was true. She knew that. And with God’s help, her heart was getting better every day. Hadn’t she noticed improvements in her reflection? It might take a lifetime, but she would end up looking like a princess in the end. Bracing against the buffeting wind, she drew a breath and stood. The old woman gave her a malicious grin. But Magnolia waved a hand at her. “Be gone. I’m beautiful in God’s eyes.”

The vision faded, but Magnolia couldn’t help the tears flowing down her cheeks.

Hayden darted to his wife and absorbed her in his arms. Sobbing, she buried her face in his shoulder. When he nudged her back to ensure she wasn’t hurt, her sapphire eyes skittered over the jungle seeking something. Or someone. Wiping wet strands from her face, he kissed the droplets of rain from her eyes. “They aren’t real!” he shouted. “I love you.” Then dipping his head to brace against the wind, he led her forward. Water rose on the soggy ground, gripping their ankles and making it difficult to walk. A branch struck his shoulder. Pain throbbed across his back. Covering Magnolia with his arms, he continued.

A silver slipper appeared in his vision, enclosing a very delicate foot dangling from a tree limb. Hayden glanced up to see Miss Sybil Shilling, casually sitting atop a branch as if she were a little girl on a summer’s day. Her satin gown with velvet trim fell in lavish folds over her legs, completely dry. Her hair, a bounty of chestnut curls, remained untouched by wind or rain. He remembered her well. He’d swindled her out of a dowry that would have provided the homely, bird-witted girl the only means of a good match.

Before she even opened his mouth, Hayden said, “I’m sorry, Sybil.”

“You’re sorry!” She leapt from the tree as if she were a monkey and landed before him. “I never married, you know. Old spinster Sybil, the joke of the town.”

Magnolia stared at Hayden, but he knew she couldn’t see the woman. All the more reason for him to ignore her as well, ignore the guilt that tore his gut, ignore the look of anguish on her face.

“You told me I was beautiful. You told me you loved me.”

He had. He’d flattered her more than any of his other victims. Perhaps because he’d felt sorry for her. But in the end, he’d not only broken her heart, but her life as well. How could he have done such a thing? How could he have been such a monster?

“Forgive me.” Halting, Hayden’s legs gave out. He lowered his chin and fell to his knees in a puddle. A chill soaked into his trousers. And his heart.

Magnolia gripped his drenched shirt, forcing him up to face her. Water slid down her face, dripped from her lashes and chin, as her sodden curls lashed about her cheeks. “You aren’t that man anymore!” She shouted, tugging on his shirt. “Do you hear me? You aren’t him anymore!”

How did she know what he’d seen? But then again, she always knew when he was hurting. Drawing her close, he pressed her head against his chest and kissed her sopping hair. She was right. He
was
a new man in Christ. The old things had passed away. Strength returned to his legs. He stood. The vision of Sybil crumbled to dust and blew away in the wind.

Swoosh. Swoosh. Swoosh
. The beat of many wings filled the air. Dark blotches covered the canopy, swooping, diving, screeching, and stealing what remained of the light.

Angeline rarely screamed. She’d seen too much horror, suffered too much at the hands of unscrupulous men to shriek like a fribble-hearted female at every frightening thing. But when the bats started diving for her, she screamed louder than she ever had. The hideous creatures’ shrieks pierced through the rumble of the storm, sounding like tortured mice—murderous mice.

James grabbed a fallen branch and began swatting them away. A few fell into the puddles at her feet, twitching from their wounds. Bile rose in her throat, and she covered her head with her hands.

“They are trying to stop us!” Spinning to face their friends behind them, James cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted, “It’s the beasts! They don’t want us going to the temple! Keep moving. They can’t harm us!”

In defiance of his words, lightning flashed, thunder blasted, and the rain thrashed down harder than ever. Wind shot droplets through the air like pellets, stinging Angeline’s skin through her gown. Water gushed over the ground, picking up the dead bats and carrying them away as if they were leaves.

James pulled Angeline to her feet. Shielding her with his arms, he sloshed forward down the trail.

Above them, the bats disappeared into puffs of black smoke.

Which only made her heart beat faster. She knew they faced an unearthly evil. She’d just never witnessed it firsthand. Not like this.

James squeezed her. “It will be all right. Stay close.”

The confidence in his voice, in the way he held himself, emboldened Angeline to ignore the dozens of customers who now assailed her at every turn, their eyes hungrily licking her, their mouths voicing obscenities.

“Whore! Trollop!” one shouted.

“Filthy slut!” another spat.

Covering her ears, she slogged through the rising water. Above her ankles now.
Oh, God, not another flood
.

“You think you’re cleansed, eh? You think God forgave you?” Her uncle’s wicked chortle echoed through the storm, transforming into thunder.

Halting, Angeline closed her eyes. She couldn’t face the man she’d killed. She couldn’t face the man whose assault had led her down the path to darkness. Not now. Wind whipped her blouse, her hair, branding her skin. Rain hammered her like punishment from God.

Branches, twigs, and leaves flew at them from all directions.

James covered her with his arms and led her onward, ducking and diving beneath the onslaught. The din of the storm grew louder. The force of the wind and rain more violent. Doubts rose within Angeline that she knew if she entertained, would surely send her running back to the beach. Sweet saints, how could they ever fight such power?

Yet James believed they could. She could feel his faith in the steel of his arms, the rock-determination of his body next to hers, in every confident breath he expelled. And it gave her strength to go on. On and on, head lowered, ramming into the wind, dodging wooden missiles and slogging through a river of water, until finally the crumbling walls of the temple appeared.

And a darkness invaded Angeline’s soul. No. More than darkness. A heaviness weighted with despair and hopelessness.

She hated this temple.

James stopped to wait for the others and pressed her against the wall, shielding her with his body. There, battered by the elements and about to do battle with unimaginable evil, terror squeezed all hope from Angeline. Were they all about to die? What if these were her last moments with James? She couldn’t bear the thought. There, barricaded by his strength and warmth, she knew there could be only one answer to his question. The answer God had reassured her was the right one during their trek there.

She lifted her gaze to his, but inches apart. “Yes.”

“Yes?” His breath wafted on her cheek. His hair whipped his forehead. He searched her eyes before understanding widened his own. “Are you agreeing to marry me?”

She nodded, smiling.

He drew her to his chest. A rumble of joy burst from inside him, caressing her ear. Thunder cracked the sky. The ground shook. Water tugged at her gown. But Angeline didn’t care.

Nudging her back, James cupped her face in his hands. “You have made me so very happy.” He kissed her forehead, her nose, and proceeded down to her lips—would have kissed her as she so desperately wanted if someone hadn’t coughed.

Hayden’s hair flailed in the wind like sodden pieces of rope, but his grin and subsequent wink sent heat flooding Angeline’s cheeks. She stepped back from James as the others approached. No time to celebrate.

Covered in scratches, their clothes torn, and with water dripping from their hair, the six of them looked as if they’d fought the kraken and lost. James turned and barreled through the wind and rain, leading them around the wall. The water hugged their ankles as, one by one, they slipped inside the broken gate.

No sooner had they entered the courtyard than the wind stopped, the rain ceased, and the water receded. The sky, however, remained black and ominous, still emitting its menacing growl. Dripping and panting, they stared at each other in numbed shock.

Blake’s features tightened as he donned his warrior’s mask. “Let’s do this.”

Trying to settle her beating heart, Angeline slipped her hand in James’s as he ushered her onward, slogging in the mud past the gruesome obelisks and into the temple. Steam rose from the stagnant pond, and a glimmer drew her gaze to the gold moon and stars hanging above the altar. James led her into the tunnels, followed by Blake and Eliza, and finally Hayden and Magnolia. Angeline lifted up a silent prayer for God’s protection and help. She knew her faith was weak, and she suspected Hayden and Eliza also struggled. Would God still honor their mission? Could He use such weak people to accomplish His will? If not, at least she would die trying to do the right thing. For the first time in her life. For the first time she would battle evil and fight for good. For the first time she believed in something larger than herself, believed in destiny and purpose, and that life had meaning. She only hoped that life would not end today.

A roar much like an approaching train blared through the narrow passageway. The ground shook. Torches fell from hooks on the walls and sputtered on the wet dirt. Darkness swamped them. Rocks pelted Angeline. Ducking, she covered her head with her hands. They were going to be buried alive.

HAPTER
37

J
ames covered Angeline with his body. The ground leapt like a wild pony. Sharp pebbles stabbed his back and arms. Pain lanced through him. Something large struck his head. Momentarily dazed, he shook it off and gathered his wits.
God, help us!

“No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper.”

The silent words swept through him, sparking to life places shriveled in fear. God was with them, and He was more powerful than any beast. “Keep going!” James shouted over his shoulder. “They can’t harm us.”

Though the pain burning in his head spoke to the contrary. Though he couldn’t see a thing but thick, inky blackness. Drawing Angeline close, he stumbled forward over the heaving ground, their bodies shoved into sharp stone on one side then slammed against barbed rock on the other. Bruises formed. Angeline moaned, and he wished more than anything he could shield her from all harm. Rocks tumbled over them. Sizzling heat belched up from below like dragon’s breath. Gripping the wall for support, James shuffled forward on the pitching dirt. Knife-sharp rock sliced his hand with each jolt. If only he could see.

“My Word is a light.”

Yes
. James drew a deep breath. “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet,” he repeated the scripture from Psalms. “And a light unto my path.” Though the roar of the earthquake muffled his words, a glow appeared from above. A soft glow like the glimmer of predawn, dousing the tunnel in a golden hue just bright enough for him to make out their surroundings.

Thank You, Lord
. Heart swelling with awe, James sped ahead. He’d been down these tunnels enough times to know his way, and the quicker he went, the sooner this mad quaking would stop. Or so he hoped. Still, no matter how tightly he held Angeline or how fast he went, their bodies flopped back and forth against razor walls like corn through a prickly sieve. The shaking forced them to their knees one minute then tossed them in the air the next. Dust filled James’s lungs until he could barely breathe. Angeline moaned. Magnolia shrieked, only heightening James’s fear for all the ladies, especially Eliza so far along with child.
Oh, God, are You sure we are the six?
It wasn’t so much a prayer, but a doubt he realized he shouldn’t have entertained. A doubt that whipped his fears as out of control as the ground was doing to his body.