Rescuing Liberty: Perseverance Book 1 (20 page)

After we brought the bikes in and locked all
the doors Ashley collapsed on the sofa and asked the question I’d
been dreading.

“
They were eating other people,
weren't they?” Her little nose scrunched up in disgust. “Those
people. They were … that was a person, right?”

Since cannibalism was well outside my list
of comfortable conversation topics, my first reaction was to find
humor in the situation. I chewed on my lip to prevent myself from
being completely inappropriate and shouting, “Soylent Green is
people!” The girl didn’t need sarcasm. She needed real answers, and
since I didn’t have any, I shrugged and sat beside her.

Luckily Connor saved me from responding when
he sat on the other side of Ashley and squeezed her shoulders. “I’m
not going lie to you,” he said. “There are bad people out there,
Ash. But we’re different. We’re stronger and smarter.” He kissed
the top of her head and brushed away stray hairs. “And we’re a
team.”

My jaw dropped. Yet again I was amazed and
impressed by the many faces of Connor Dunstan.

“
Uncle Connor, Libby …” Ashley’s big,
dark eyes glanced back and forth between us as she took each of our
hands. “Thank you … for taking care of me.”

My heart swelled, and just like that I knew
we were going to be okay. We were going to survive. We could
persevere and beat the craziness, the loneliness and the
starvation. We had become a family, and as such, we would weather
the storms together.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

~Lakeview, Oregon, fourteen years
ago

2:58 PM: THE DASHBOARD clock glowed
mockingly.

‘
Two minutes! I am so
dead!’ I grumbled into the steering wheel of my mom’s Toyota Camry,
pleading with her—my sisters and I were convinced that the car was
female—to somehow make the ten minute drive in two minutes. The
Camry had never shown signs of teleportation abilities before, but
I was desperate.

“
Come on, Bessie, you can
do it.” I hoped the use of the car’s pet name would spark her
superpowers. We called her Bessie because she ran like an old milk
cow, but now probably wouldn’t be the best time to bring that
up.

2:59.

My mom was working and had given me specific
instructions to be home by three o’clock. Our house had a water
leak, and a man from the city was scheduled to fix it. If no one
was there to let him in we’d be put back on a waiting list for
another month and face another outrageous water bill that we
couldn’t afford. And Mom would kill me. But even worse than death,
she’d ground me for a month.

Michelle and I had been enjoying the
gorgeous summer day. Hanging out at the public swimming pool.
Dipping our feet in the cool water and checking out the hot life
guards passed the time entirely too quickly. One minute the clock
hanging about the shower doors showed I had an hour left to enjoy.
Then when I checked again—I swear it was only five minutes
later—that hour had more than passed. Now I was scrambling to get
home with almost no hope of getting there in time.

3:00.

I could cut through the parking lot of
Stratton’s Grocery Store and shave two precious minutes from the
drive. It wasn’t exactly legal, but everybody did it. I barely
brushed the brake as I turned the steering wheel and veered into
the lot.

‘
NO!’ the
call
ordered, but for the first time
I ignored the voice in my heart.

There wasn’t time to get back on the road,
and I was already committed to the shortcut. Determined to catch
the man from the city, I gripped the steering wheel and stepped on
the gas.

An indecipherable shape dashed in front of
my car. I slammed on the breaks. There was a heart-stopping thump;
evidence of impact. My world went blurry. The next thing I knew, I
was standing in front of Bessie, staring down at the bicyclist I’d
just hit. I held my breath as one bike tire continued to spin.

“
Oh my God, You killed
him!” the manager of the store screamed from the door.

“
Someone, call the
paramedics,” another voice yelled. “A boy’s been hit!”

My hand flew to my mouth and time stopped. A
crowd gathered around the small figure, whispering, shaking heads,
and waiting for the child to move …

* * *

I awoke with a jolt. With the memory
came tears. Always.
I remember. I
promise.

Connor was gone, but Ashley was still asleep
beside me. I climbed out of bed, slipped into the bathroom and
quietly closed the door behind me. Gripping the counter, I leaned
into the mirror to stare into eyes as haunted as my spirit. I
squeezed them shut and my mind returned to the spinning bike tire.
The fear I’d felt that day terrorized me once again and I slunk to
the floor, tucking my knees under my chin and wrapping my arms
around my legs.

My heart and mind wandered back to the
emergency room where I had paced and prayed while paramedics worked
on little Mike Fredrickson. His mother was the first to arrive,
showing up in work slacks and silk shirt with her graying hair
neatly pulled into a bun. She watched me for a long minute, and
then burst into tears. News travels fast in a small town, and she’d
no doubt heard several versions of the incident already.

“
Mrs. Fredrickson—” I stepped forward,
but she turned her back to me and walked toward the admittance
desk. I sat in the furthest corner I could find with my knees drawn
to my chest. I closed my eyes and hid behind my legs as tears
streamed down my face. I’d disobeyed the call and now little Mikey
was paying the price.
Are You still
there
?
I prayed.
I’m sorry. I should have listened. I really
screwed up. Please, just let Mikey be alright. I promise I’ll never
ignore You again. I’ll listen. I’ll do whatever You want. Please.
He’s just a kid. Please don’t let him die. Don’t let him be
paralyzed. Please let him be okay.

Other adults came and went, casting sideways
glances in my direction.

“
Isn’t that Rose Collins’ daughter?” I
heard someone whisper.

“
Rose Collins?” asked another voice.
“That woman works too much. Never has any time for her
children.”

“
Can’t find a man?” asked a third
woman.

“
Who’s gonna want to take on three
troublesome girls?”

Their voices blended together, making
my head spin.
Now I’ve done it for sure.
We’ll have to move. Everyone hates us.
There was a tap
on my arm and suddenly Michelle was there. Relief relaxed my guard,
allowing me to embrace my fear and sorrow, and truly cry for what I
had done.

“
I swear it was an accident,” I told
her between sobs. “I didn’t see him. I wouldn’t …”

“
I know.” She sat and draped her arm
over my shoulders. “Shh. It will be alright.”

The doctor came out and the family gathered
around him. When he left, I stood and approached Mikey’s mom with
Michelle close behind.

“
Excuse me, Mrs. Fredrickson. How is
he?” I fiddled with the hem of my shirt, trying to be strong while
my entire body was shaking.

All eyes focused on me, but no one said a
word.

“
Please.” I crossed my arms. “I’m
sorry. I just want to know if he’s okay.”

A plump, dark-haired woman stepped in front
of Mrs. Fredrickson and stuck her finger in my face. “Of course
he’s not okay. You tried to kill him.”

My jaw dropped. “No. I … It was an
accident.” They glowered at me with such hatred I wanted to crawl
into a hole and die. “I … I didn’t mean—”

I felt a hand on my shoulder and everyone’s
attention shifted behind me. I looked back and saw my mother. Her
jaw was set and lightning flashed in eyes the color of steel.
Unending strength squared her shoulders, no doubt coming from years
of working in a sawmill. The smells of wood, sweat and ferocious,
protective love reassured me that everything would be okay.

“
Momma, I’m sorry.” I stared at her,
but she wasn’t looking at me. She was glaring over my
head.

“
My daughter asked how Michael is
doing,” my momma said.

Mrs. Fredrickson cleared her throat. “He’s
going to be okay.” Her gaze dropped to the floor and oxygen finally
found its way to my lungs.

Mikey ended up with a broken arm,
three cracked ribs and a sprained ankle. They said it would have
been much worse had he not been wearing his helmet. I
could
have killed him. That was the
moment I swore to never again ignore the
call
.
No matter what
bizarre command God gave me, I vowed to follow and obey.

* * *

After Ashley woke up, we ate dry ramen from
our packs for breakfast. Then we climbed on the bikes and cycled
for about nine miles, through the city of Auburn. Auburn was a
typical small college city, hiding in Seattle’s shadow. The
downtown area consisted mainly of older buildings. Several of which
were mom and pop shops that had been hit hard by the down economy.
Large “OUT OF BUSINESS” signs distinguished the stores that fell
even before the riots hit. Some buildings had been torched, but the
level of destruction here didn’t even compare to what I’d
encountered in Olympia. The whisper of life was evident in the
occasional flicker of a curtain or creak of a loose floor board,
but we kept to ourselves and no one bothered us.

We stopped to stretch just north of Auburn’s
college. My sore legs were happy to take a break from riding, and
if Ashley’s bow-legged waddle was any indication, she felt the
same. Connor continued to annoy me by showing no visible side
effects from the ride.

The park we stopped at served as a gathering
spot for all sorts of birds, squirrels, and ducks. Their
conversations filled the air, creating a Disney-type reality. At
any moment, the seven dwarves could come whistling by, heading for
the mines. But I feared that with our luck, we would most likely
get evil stepmothers and wicked witches instead.

Long, thick grass had me contemplating
the idea of stripping my socks and shoes off to give my sore,
sweaty feet some air. The idea sounded so good that I bent over and
tugged on my laces. As I did so, a naive covey of quail wandered
over to investigate the foreign humans. Never one to pass up an
opportunity, I calmly reached for the stick lying at my feet.
Weapon in hand, I froze and waited for one gullible quail to waddle
up to me. Thankfully I didn’t have to wait long.
She swings, she hits!

Down went the quail.
Its
companions scattered, but not before Connor clobbered a second one
with the stick he’d picked up to follow my lead. One more quail
died; the result of a combined effort as Connor chased it my
direction and I made contact.

“
Thank you softball practice,” I said,
dropping my weapon and collecting the lifeless quail.

“
Gross! What are you doing with
those?” Ashley seemed torn between laughter and horror.

“
Seriously? You’ve never had quail?
You, my dear, are in for a treat.”

Connor coughed to cover his chuckle as
Ashley eyed us suspiciously.

I wrapped the birds in a towel and stuffed
them in my bag. Then we biked along Highway 18 about twelve more
miles until we were deep in the woods, greeted by a comforting
compilation of bright, healthy shades of green and fresh, clean
scents of earth and life. I inhaled the serenity of the forest and
let it clean and invigorate my mind and body. Then we found a safe
spot, hidden by enormous evergreens, to build a fire and cook the
quail. I headed toward the sounds of a nearby stream as Connor and
Ashley scavenged for firewood.

The brook bubbled happily and an amazing
sense of calm settled over me, mending the wounds of my recent
trials. I closed my eyes and basked in the sounds and fragrances of
life around me. To my left, two squirrels engaged in a heated
discussion. One took off up a tree and his antagonist followed. I
imagined Chip raising his fist and screaming at Dale. A smile
tugged at my lips; one part reminiscent, two parts disheartened.
Michelle and I used to translate wildlife conversations for her
father. I closed my eyes and remembered my friend’s contagious
laughter.

I’d purchased my passport so I could visit
Michelle, but never made it to Canada. Too busy working all the
time. I glanced at my hands, and my mother’s ring reminded me that
I’d neglected her as well. Momma had begged me to come home this
past Christmas, but the layoffs had already begun, and I couldn’t
get away.

What I wouldn’t do for one more shot at
Christmas …

Those thoughts led to madness. I pushed them
away and focused on plucking and washing the quail. By the time I
got back to Ashley and Connor, the fire was going strong. Ashley
and Connor had their heads together, deep in conversation. They saw
me and immediately quieted.

“
What’s going on?” I asked.

“
Nothing,” Ashley said. “But I’m
starving.” She stood and walked toward me, looking a little too
guilty for my liking.

Hmm. Wonder what those two
are up to now?
“Good,” I said, confident that I’d get
the details out of her later. But now we had cooking to attend to.
“Now warsh up. I’ma teach yah ta cook so as y’ll make some lad a
good wife, I recon.” My southern accent was so pathetic it caused
Ashley to giggle and call me weird.