Private Rogue

Chapter 7

“I’m so tired, Mom,” Danny said as they trudged along the single-lane road.

The sun was falling and night’s chill nipped at Beth’s cheeks.

“We’re nearly there,” she replied. “You OK?” she asked Maria, who was a few yards behind them.

The girl had withdrawn into her own world. It took a moment for her to register her mom had spoken, but finally she nodded.

After they’d fled the cabin, they’d made their way through the forest toward the edge of Oscawana Lake. It had been night by the time they were within sight of the placid water. By then the temperature had dropped rapidly, so they’d needed to find shelter quickly. Beth had surveyed the properties that edged the lake, and found a huge mansion being built on the east shore. She’d helped the children over the wire fence, and found some shards of metal, which she’d used to pick the padlock on the foreman’s office. It had been years since she’d been taught how to roll a tumbler, but it came back to her soon enough. Inside, they’d found a couple of couches, some snacks, water and a coffee machine. More importantly there was a heater, which had kept them warm as they’d slept.

In the morning, Beth had risen before the children and spent a few calm moments considering her options. Local motels were out; their pursuers would be looking for any recent arrivals. They could go to the few friends she had in Garrison, but she wasn’t sufficiently close to any of them and her presence might put them in harm’s way. So she’d settled on the only man she felt she could trust who lived within reasonable walking distance. Once the kids had woken and feasted on a terrible breakfast of Cheetos and Hersheys, they’d set out for Pleasant Valley, which was about a ten-hour walk cross-country.

The kids hadn’t complained much in the morning, but after a lunch made up of the remains of the snacks Beth had taken from the site office, hunger had frayed tempers, and there had been a couple of difficult hours marching along quiet rural roads, bickering in the freezing cold. Beth had thought about hitching a ride, but every contact was a potential lead for their would-be abductors, and the level of sophistication they’d demonstrated in tracking her to the cabin suggested she was dealing with professionals. Finally, late in the afternoon, the kids had stopped arguing and lapsed into exhausted silence.

As they finally approached the outskirts of Pleasant Valley, a car roared by at speed and the driver sounded his horn. Was it a warning? Or a loud question: What the hell are you doing walking out here? The car disappeared around a bend, and Beth and the children followed at a slow, steady, and fairly miserable pace. A few minutes later, she caught sight of what she was looking for: a narrow driveway that ran north off Freedom Road.

“That’s it,” she told her children, and saw a glimmer of hope light up both faces.

They turned right and followed the trail through rough scrubland that had been seasoned with a scattering of icy snow. The trail bent right before straightening up, and there at the end, Beth saw the single-story home of an old friend.

He emerged from the house as they approached. Beth glanced around to see if she could spot the motion sensors that were likely to have announced their arrival. She wasn’t surprised not to see anything; he’d be too conscientious to leave such things anywhere they could be seen. Apart from grayer hair, wrinkles, and the fact he wasn’t in uniform, her former instructor, Ted Eisner, looked the same. He still had that ramrod posture that made him seem even taller than his six feet two inches. He was broad with a barrel chest, and wore a US Army branded T-shirt and green cargo pants.

“I’ll be damned,” he said, stepping off the porch in front of the house. “Elizabeth Singer. And these must be your kids.”

“Sergeant Eisner,” Beth responded.

“It’s just Ted now,” he said, stopping near the children. “And you are?”

“Danny and Maria,” Beth replied.

“Pleased to meet you, Danny and Maria. I used to work with your mom, until she decided she had better things to do with her life.”

The remark was delivered with a smile, but it was clearly intended to hurt. He was obviously still smarting.

“Not better,” Beth replied. “Just different.”

“I guess you could say that,” Ted said, looking her up and down. “So what brings you here, on foot and all bedraggled?”

Beth took a moment to think about how best to answer.

“Never mind,” he said, before she could. “It’s too cold to wait out here for you to figure out a lie. You’d better come inside and do it.”

He started back toward the house, and Maria and Danny looked at their mother uncertainly.

“You know Mom doesn’t lie,” Beth said. “He’s just being grumpy because we had an argument a while back.”

Ted glanced over his shoulder. “Come on, Singer. I might not feel the light of forgiveness much longer.”

Beth nodded at her children and the three of them followed the old man inside.