Outside Eden (28 page)

Harper swung her arm out and sent the IV pole clattering to the floor.

Lynne looked up, startled.

Hagit reached up and grabbed Lynne’s wrist, twisting it until she dropped the scalpel, enduring punches from Lynne’s other fist while Harper raced around the bed, dove at Lynne’s knees and pulled her to the floor. Pinned her there. Saw the scalpel lying loose beside the bed.

‘Hagit,’ Harper breathed. ‘Is Chloe all right?’

Hagit lowered the sheet. Chloe was lying on her belly, sucking her fingers, fast asleep.

But Lynne wasn’t finished. The doctor declared Peter dead about the same time Harper yelled for the guards. Harper stayed on top of Lynne, holding her down until they came in. When the guards were in the room, she shifted her weight and got off, expecting Lynne to lie still and surrender, outnumbered.

But as soon as Harper moved, Lynne’s arm darted out, grabbing the scalpel, raising it to Harper’s thigh, right at her femoral artery. Climbing to her feet, she wrapped an arm around Harper’s neck and held the blade to her throat. The guards aimed their weapons, ready to fire. Lynne slouched behind Harper, using her as a shield.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ one guard said. ‘We will shoot you.’

‘Be quiet,’ Lynne snapped. ‘Not a word. I swear I’ll cut her.’

‘If you cut her, you will die, too.’

Harper tried to pull away; Lynne tightened her arm, choking her. Harper’s mind raced, considering her options. She could reach up, grab Lynne’s head and twist. Or jab her eyes. Or use a foot to trip her. Or twist around and simply punch her out. But each of those alternatives would only work if Lynne didn’t react by slashing her throat. Meantime, Lynne was edging around the room, the wall to her back, Harper blocking her from the guards and their weapons. Hagit sat alert, cradling little Chloe. Harper looked at Chloe and rage coursed through her veins. She had no choice, had to obey her instincts. On the count of three, she would throw her head back, slam Lynne in the face and duck, giving the guards a clear shot.

One. Harper counted, taking a step with Lynne, feeling sharp thin steel against her neck. Wondering if she’d survive or die right here while Chloe slept, never again to hear her little girl laugh or see her run. Well, at least they were in a medical facility; maybe the staff would save her before she bled out. Two. Lynne pulled her toward the door. They moved in sync, matching steps like partners in a grim waltz. Just as Harper got to three, Lynne backed through the doorway and, with a low grunt, thrust Harper forward.

Harper fell forward, heard the door slam.

The guards shouted Hebrew commands, jumping over Harper as she got to her feet. They pulled the door open and ran into the hall, stumbling over a man with his hands bound behind his back. Lowell asked for help as they shoved him aside, one going in each direction, rifles raised, checking the rooms.

‘Untie me,’ Lowell called to Harper, but she ignored him, followed the guards. Saw a nurse in the hall, hurrying to see what the commotion was. An orderly pushing a gurney. No sign of Lynne. Harper ran to the waiting room, Lowell trailing after her. She looked out the front door. One of the guards was ahead of her, checking the street. No Lynne. Harper stopped and wheeled around: if she and the guards were out looking for Lynne, Hagit had to be, once again, unattended.

Oh God. Maybe that had been Lynne’s plan – to distract them so they’d leave Hagit long enough for Lynne to kill her. Harper cursed herself for being so gullible. Her leg throbbed and her lungs burned as she dashed back into the center, through the waiting room, down the hall to Hagit’s room, dreading what she might find. Flinging the door open.

Almost crashing into Hagit. She was carrying Chloe and Harper’s bag, apparently leaving.

‘What are you doing?’ Harper panted.

‘It’s too crazy here,’ Hagit declared. ‘We’ll be at the bungalow.’

‘No.’ Harper still had not caught her breath. ‘Hagit. You’re not going anywhere. You’re hurt.’

‘I’m not going to get better here.’

Harper looked into the hall. Saw a guard on his phone, holding Lowell by his collar, the nurse standing there with her hands on her hips. ‘Don’t leave yet. Wait here for me.’ She started to leave. Stopped in the hall to look back.

Hagit was heading into the hallway, following her.

‘Hagit. I mean it. We’ll go but not yet.’ Harper watched until Hagit turned back and the door closed. She had no time to argue. Lynne was still there, still determined to finish the sacrifice. But where? Harper went down the hall, looked in on Jimmy and Frank. Jimmy’s eyes widened and his good hand clung to his sheets when she walked in. Frank was asleep. She hurried on. Checked the rooms, one by one. Saw Wendell with his jaw wired. Peter’s body, lying under a sheet.

The guards were talking at the end of the hall. Apparently, they hadn’t found her either.

Damn. Harper wanted to shake the guards. If they had protected Hagit, none of this would have happened. But yelling at them would accomplish nothing. Police reinforcements were arriving. The building would be searched, and Lynne would be found. Meantime, while the guards were busy talking with the police, she took off with Hagit and Chloe, walking out right through the front door of the medical center.

‘Hey,’ one of the guards shouted. ‘Wait.’

Hagit turned to yell at them, argued in Hebrew.

The group approached them, scolding Hagit. Waving their arms.

Hagit put her hands on her hips and said something that quieted them.

A policeman replied angrily and walked off. The guards muttered to each other.

Hagit held onto Harper’s arm for support; Chloe clung to her neck, half asleep. With the guards trailing after them, the three headed back to the bungalow to collect their things. They would not spend another night at the kibbutz, would take off and hit the road, even if she had to steal another car.

Lynne held her breath, not daring to move. Waiting for the consternation to stop. What had gone wrong? She’d almost done it – almost killed the lamb. She would have, too, if not for Harper Jennings.

That woman. So clean looking. Such an open, fresh face. Who’d have suspected the evil that lay beneath? Harper had pretended to be her friend – even to be interested in the church. And Lynne had welcomed her, had divulged confidential information, hoping to help Harper join them, earn God’s grace, attain eternal life. But Lynne had been fooled. Conned. Harper had hidden her true intention. All along, she’d been planning to prevent the final sacrifice. Clearly, she was an agent of Satan. How else would she have known to show up at that very moment, just as Lynne had been about to slaughter the lamb, preventing her from meeting God’s coded requirements?

Harper Jennings. Lynne repeated the name to herself like a chant, pumping herself for revenge. But first, she had to get out of this stinking bed and away from the medical center. She lay still as death, staring into the fabric covering her face. Waiting.

Nearby, men shouted in Hebrew. Shoes pounded against the tile floor. Stopped. Were they at the door? In the room? Would they find her?

Lynne didn’t breathe. In a moment, the footsteps began again, moving away. She let out a breath. Inhaled. Felt ill. The bed still smelled of him, his sickly sweat. His weakness. She prayed to God that they’d stop looking for her soon so she could sneak out of the building and try once more to do His work. And that, in the meantime, nobody who looked in Peter’s room would know that his body had already been taken away.

The sun was setting; the path to the bungalow was shadowy and quiet. According to the Hebrew calendar, the ninth of Av was about to begin. As she walked, Chloe secured in the sling, Harper scanned the valley, the hills. Saw no signs of a conflagration. Heard no thunderous explosions that would end the world. The green fields and gently sloping hills sat serene and still as if prepared for a holy day.

But the calm didn’t relax her. She was in combat mode, her senses alert. Hagit leaned on her for support, still weak and unbalanced, moving slowly. When they got to the bungalow, Harper made Hagit lie down and put Chloe in her crib so she could finish packing.

‘Tell me where your things are.’ She grabbed Hagit’s suitcase but, exhausted from the walk, Hagit had already fallen asleep. Harper dashed around, emptying Hagit’s closet and tossing clothes and toiletries into the bag. She gathered the rest of her own clothes and shoved them into her duffle. Glanced around to see if she’d forgotten anything. Decided that, if she had, it didn’t matter. Clothes were replaceable. She was ready to go, but Hagit and Chloe were asleep. She stood at the door, figuring out what to do next.

And remembered she hadn’t talked to Hank. Needed to let him know they were coming back tonight. She grabbed Hagit’s phone, called. Got his voice mail. Her stomach cramped. Why hadn’t she been able to reach him in over a day? Why hadn’t he called?

She needed to let it go. He was busy. Nothing was wrong. But her clenched stomach insisted otherwise. She left a message, asking him to call Hagit’s phone. Adding that it was urgent. Then she sat down, trying to convince herself that there was simply a problem with Hank’s phone. The battery had run out. Or he’d forgotten to turn it on. Or dropped it in the Dead Sea. She stared at Hagit’s phone, telling her stomach to quiet down, but the clench tightened, became a wrenching twist. Her hands were unsteady as she tried Trent’s number. And when the call didn’t go through and an electronic voice began speaking Hebrew, she froze, not even breathing.

Harper stood, ran a hand through her hair. What the hell? Why were neither of them answering? She set the phone on the counter, chewed her lip, told herself to keep moving, not to take the time to worry. Harper picked up the bags, moved them to the porch. Realized that she couldn’t carry everything, would need a cart. Or no, she could leave the bags until she got a vehicle, then pick them up along with Chloe and Hagit. In fact, the bags didn’t matter – she could leave them behind. What mattered was getting Hagit and Chloe away, safe from Lynne and Travis and the rest of their crazy flock. She was wasting time, needed to find a ride or a car, but how? She couldn’t leave Hagit and Chloe alone, felt off balance . . .

Oh God. She was standing in the middle of the bungalow, turning in circles. Panicking.

Panicking? Harper Jennings never panicked. She reacted to threats and danger reflexively, without self-doubt or intellectualization. She’d been trained to respond quickly, efficiently and effectively in emergencies of all kinds. So why was she running around her room, rotating like a spitted chicken?

Her head pounded. She shivered.

Harper stood beside Chloe, settling herself by matching the baby’s steady breath. She made herself hold still, massaged her temples. Tried to understand her reaction. She’d been surrounded by dangerous, misguided people before, had managed to stay grounded in literally hundreds of life-threatening situations. So it wasn’t, couldn’t be Travis or Lynne or the church group that was unsettling her. What then was it? Why were her senses malfunctioning, sending her in random unfocused directions?

Harper sat again, took a long deep breath. Relaxed her shoulders, her neck. Untensed her back. Closed her eyes.

And saw Hank, falling from the roof. Hank lying unconscious, his head smashed on one side.

Oh God.

Harper couldn’t breathe. She knew. Without any proof, without being told. She wasn’t sure what it was or why no one had told her, but she was certain. Something had happened to Hank.

Finally, the place was quiet. Lynne counted to five hundred, heard nothing. No voices. No footsteps. Soon, someone would come to clean the room; she couldn’t hang around. Slowly, she lowered the sheet, peeked out. The room was darkness and silence.

She counted some more, listening. Hearing no one. She took a breath, sat up, got out of the bed. Crept to the hall, ready to finish her work. Who cared if they caught her? The conflagration would begin after the sacrifice, and she’d be blessed with eternal life. No earthly chains would hold her.

The hall was empty. Lynne dashed across into Hagit’s room. Opened the door and entered in one swift move. Blinked in disbelief, her hands tightening into fists.

Harper Jennings, she sneered. Harper Jennings. Harper Jennings had taken the lamb.

‘Hagit,’ Harper repeated, gently shaking Hagit’s shoulder.

When Hagit’s eyes opened, they appeared glazed and unfocused. Then she bolted upright, glaring at Harper with accusing eyes. Finally, she relaxed.

‘I have to leave you and Chloe here while I find us a ride.’

Hagit seemed puzzled. ‘A ride?’

‘To Jerusalem.’

Hagit started to sit up. ‘You’re not serious.’

‘I think you’ll be okay for a few minutes. Those two guards should still be outside. I called Adi to ask her to stay with you, but no one answered—’

‘It’s the holiday. They’re all in shul. At services. But Harper, we can’t go to Jerusalem. Not just all of a sudden.’

‘Why not?’

Hagit opened her mouth, closed it. Said nothing.

Harper wanted to insist that Hagit explain. Why couldn’t they go to Jerusalem? What did Hagit mean? Did she know something about Hank and Trent? Harper stopped herself, not wanting to take the time. Not sure she could bear to hear the answer. She bit her lip.

‘Keep the curtains closed and the door locked.’

‘I know what to do. But listen to me. We should stay here—’

‘So someone can finally kill you?’

‘The guards are out there. No one will bother me.’

‘Should I take Chloe? Are you well enough to watch her?’

Hagit’s eyes narrowed. ‘I was Mossad.’

Harper went to the crib, touched Chloe’s curls, leaned over to kiss her, inhaled her scent. Then she ran to the door.

On the way out, closing the door, she saw the guards standing on the path. And beyond them, a man carrying something bulky near Travis’s bungalow, cloaked by the dusk.

Without a sound, Lynne crept down the hall, wondering how she’d get past the police. She moved swiftly, soundlessly. Cracking the door to the waiting room, she expected to see guards and braced herself for a confrontation. But the waiting room was empty.