Buck stopped at the top as they teetered some twelve feet above their pursuers. He shifted into Drive, and when the GC saw the vehicle start to move, they lowered their weapons and dove out of the way. The Hummer dropped almost vertically, ramming the hood of the little car and blowing both of its front tires. The engine gushed water and steam, and Buck could tell he had rendered the GC vehicle useless.
Rather than look for the guards, he merely backed up six feet, whipped the wheel right, and sped off into the night. Zeke had somehow gotten the door shut, but neither he nor Buck had time to buckle in. As the Hummer lurched across the plains at high speed, both men were thrown around like rag dolls, their heads hitting the ceiling, their shoulders banging the doors.
Buck skidded to a stop.
"What?" Zeke demanded.
"Buckle up!"
They both did and off he flew again. Fewer than five minutes later, as Buck found a route that would lead them back to Chicago, the sky behind them went from night to day in a massive orange ball of flame. A few seconds later the sound and the shock rocked the car anew. Buck, high from the adrenaline, knew how close they had come to dying.
Zeke, laughing like a child, kept turning in his seat and looking back at the flaming horizon. "Well," he said, cackling, "so much for that job!"
EIGHT
Mac and Abdullah sat sullenly in David's hospital room, whispering. "Thirty days?" Mac said over and over. "Hard to believe."
"No way of staying around here," Abdullah said. "Not that I'll miss it. Well, in some ways I will."
"I know I will," David said, coming to full attention whenever he heard footsteps in the corridor. "So much we can do from the inside that we'll never be able to pull off from the outside."
Mac let out a sigh that made him sound old and tired. "David, this may sound like I'm kissin' up to the boss, but you know I wouldn't kiss up to you if you were the potentate. But we both know you can do anything technologically. Get yerself healthy and do whatever you got to do to keep tabs on this place from anywhere in the world. Isn't that doable?"
"Theoretically," David said. "But it won't be easy."
"Somehow you've got this place bugged, sliced, and diced. Why can't you access computers here the way you did that buildin' in Chicago where we're all likely gonna wind up?"
David shrugged. "It's possible. I can't imagine psyching myself up to get it done. Not without Annie." David caught the glance between Mac and Abdullah. "What?" he said. "You know something you're not telling me?"
Mac shook his head. "We're just as worried as you. Makes no sense. No way she wouldn't let you know where she was, if she could." He paused and a twinkle played at his eyes. "Unless she locked herself in that utility room again."
David laughed in spite of himself. Annie was one of the most disciplined, buttoned-down employees he'd ever had, but one out-of-character stunt she pulled would hang over her head as long as she lived.
The way Hannah Palemoon knocked at the half-open door told David way more than he wanted to know. A sob rose in his throat. Mac stood and David nodded to him. "Come in," Mac said.
David tried to ignore the small, corrugated box in Hannah's hands and desperately searched her face for some trace of optimism. She approached slowly and set the box near David's feet. "I am so sorry," she said, and David collapsed inside.
His pain, his fatigue melted away, overwhelmed by grief and loss too great to bear. He groaned and drew his fists up under his chin, turning from his friends, rolling onto his side, drawing his knees up, and folding in on himself.
"Lightning?" The question forced its way past his constricted throat.
"Yes," Hannah whispered. "There would have been no pain or suffering."
Grateful for that, David thought. At least not for her, "David," Mac said huskily, "me and Smitty will be right outside-"
"I'd appreciate it if you could stay," David managed, and he heard them sit again.
"I have a few of her personal effects," Hannah said. David tried to sit up, feeling the cursed dizziness. "It's just her purse and phone, jewelry, and shoes."
David finally sat up and put the box between his knees. His breath caught at the charred smell. The phone had melted in spots. One shoe had scorched holes in the heel and toe.
"I have to see her," he said. "I wouldn't recommend it," Hannah said. "David, no," Mac urged.
"I have to! She's not really gone and never will be unless I know for sure. This is her stuff, but did you see her, Hannah?" The nurse nodded. "But you didn't know her. Had you ever seen her before?"
She shook her head. "Not that I know of. But, David, I don't know how to say this. If the woman in the morgue were my best friend, I wouldn't recognize her."
The sobs returned and David pushed the box toward the end of the bed, shaking his head, his fingers pressed lightly against his temples, tender and fiery to the touch. "You know she was my first love?"
No one responded.
"I had dated before, but-" he pressed a hand over his lips-"the love of my life."
Mac stood and asked Abdullah to shut the door. He pulled the hanging curtain around the bed so the four of them were cocooned in the dim white light. Mac lay a hand gently on David's shoulder. Abdullah reached for a knee. Hannah gripped David's sheet-covered foot.
"God," Mac whispered, "we're long past asking why things happen. We know we're on borrowed time and that we belong to you. We don't understand this. We don't like it. And it's hard for us to accept. We thank you that Annie didn't suffer," and here his voice broke and became barely audible. "We envy her because she's with you, but we miss her already, and a part of David that can never be replaced has been ripped away. We still trust you, still believe in you, and want to serve you for as long as you'll let us. We just ask that you'll come alongside David now, unlike you ever have before, and help him to heal, to carry on, to do your work."
Mac could not continue. Abdullah said, "We pray in the name of Jesus."
"Thank you," David said, and he turned away from them again. "Please don't go yet." As he lay there, his friends still by the bed inside the curtain, he realized that there would be no formal funeral for Annie and that even if there was-because she was an employee-he would have to conduct himself as a somber superior, not as a grieving lover. When he was forced to separate himself from this place, he didn't want it to reflect upon her and call into suspicion everyone she knew or spent time with.
He heard the drape being opened again. Hannah put the box under the head of the bed, and Mac and Abdullah returned to their chairs. "You need sleep," Hannah said. "You want me to get you something?"
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Hannah, but I really have to see her. Can you unhook me and help me down there?"
She looked as if about to refuse him, but he saw the light of an idea come to her eyes. "You're sure?" she said.
"Absolutely."
"It won't be easy."
"And this is?"
"I'll get a wheelchair and I'll pull the IV along with us."
Zeke was wearing his trademark getup when Buck presented him to the Tribulation Force at the new safe house and introduced him to Tsion. "When the boss gets back, we'll make you a full-fledged member," Buck said. "But meanwhile, find yourself some privacy and appropriate whatever you need to settle in, make yourself at home, and become part of the family."
"By all means," Tsion said, embracing the fleshy young man. In thick-soled, square-toed, black motorcycle boots, black jeans, black T-shirt under black leather vest, Zeke was a stark contrast to the sweatered, corduroyed rabbi, standing there in his Hush-Puppies. "Welcome and God bless you."