Blind Faith (41 page)

Korsakov's laughter echoed through the pounding in Sam's brain. "Go ahead," he taunted. "Shoot me. If you have the guts."

Sam leveraged himself up to a sitting position. "No problem," he said, raising the gun.

Korsakov's smile only widened. "Well, actually there's two very big problems."

Sam ignored the Russian's words, curling his finger around the trigger. A large shadow fell over him and the cold hard muzzle of a gun pressed against the side of his head.

"What's it going to be, Stan? Both of us dead or both of us alive?"

Caitlyn lurched against the railing, almost slipping through it. Hal's grasp pulled her back. Blood streamed from one of his ears yet he was grinning, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight like the yellow maw of a jack-o-lantern.

"I took care of them, Lily," he cried out into the night, head thrown back as he shouted at the moon. "All the naysayers and doubters. The ones who poisoned and denied, kept us in captivity. They're all dead. I can come home to you now, at last."

He had his back to the railing, arms spread wide in celebration. Caitlyn lunged, tackling her shoulder against his chest, spinning him off balance so that she could reach his gun. He reared forward, slapping her with the back of his hand. The movement gave her the opening she needed to grab his gun.

He didn't seem to care when she raised the forty caliber Glock and aimed it dead center. "You can't deny me!"

Caitlyn raised the gun and fired point blank. Hal stepped forward, his arm raised, ready to push her over the railing. She fired again, twice more, hitting center mass each time. He swayed, mere inches away from her and the edge of the platform. A puzzled expression crossed his face as he looked down at the blood coloring his khaki shirt.

He held his arms out to her, beseeching her. "Lily. I did it all for Lily..."

The night shredded his words as he toppled backwards over the railing.

Sarah had just found the last bomb when Hal's body hurtled to the ground beside her. Her heart lurched as he hit the ground with a heavy thunk. She craned her neck back. No sign of Caitlyn following. Thank God. She yanked the detonator out and ran to the foot of the tower. "Are you all right?" she called up to Caitlyn.

"I'm fine," came the breathless reply.

"Sam is in town, I need to go to him, get help."

Caitlyn appeared on the top landing, swaying and holding her one arm. Sarah watched as she sank onto the steps. "You go. I'll just slow you down."

Sarah hesitated. "You sure?"

"Go. Get your husband. Wait. Here." A dull thud as Caitlyn tossed Hal's gun down, followed by the magazine of bullets. "Be careful."

Sarah scooped the gun up, rammed the magazine home, and ran to the Volvo. "I'll send help," she called over her shoulder. Caitlyn merely gave a weak wave.

The blast hadn't hurt the car, Sarah was pleased to see. The engine turned over smoothly. She gunned it and headed back up the dirt road into town. To her surprise, the streets were empty and relatively clear. A few mailboxes and trash cans were overturned amid broken glass, but even most of the street lights were still working. Some shingles had blown off the church across from the Rockslide. Other than missing its window, the café appeared intact.

She blew out a sigh of relief. Her headlights revealed a wall of smoke farther down the street where the government center stood. Or used to stand.

The sheriff had been quick to respond. A Tahoe with grille lights flashing red and blue stood in front of the café. She pulled up alongside it. Two men were helping a third inside the Rockslide while a fourth one staggered to his feet under his own power.

The man slumped between the burly deputies was Sam. She left the car and ran over the broken glass to the doorway. Then she saw the guns.

Neither of the men wore uniforms, rather they wore dark suits. One held a gun against the back of Sam’s neck while the other had one aimed at his body. Sam lost his footing, almost falling to the floor and the second man holstered his gun to use both hands to grab him and haul him onto his feet. His cry of pain wrenched at her but the last man in the café simply laughed.

Sarah had never shot at a person, never been in combat, but it was as if she heard all the Colonel's war stories rush through her head.
It's like you're in a trance,
he'd told her the one time they'd seriously discussed it when she was a girl.
You don't even realize you're shooting at men, you're just trying hard to stay alive and protect your own.

She raised and fired at one of the men holding Sam, hitting him square in the chest as he was pivoting to face her.

"Drop it!" she shouted to the second man, the one whose gun was still in its holster.

The fourth man aimed at her, had a clear shot. She whirled to face him. Sam lurched forward, throwing himself at the man. They fell to the ground. The man fired his gun. Sarah felt a rush of air as the bullet passed her.

Sam tried to roll his weight onto the man. The second “deputy” went for his gun. Sarah fired twice, both shots hitting him before he could clear it from his holster.

She spun back to where Sam and the other man struggled on the floor. Blood was smeared everywhere, both men sliding in it as they fought to gain the upper hand. The man with the gun was trying to aim it at Sam, blocking any shot Sarah might take.

"Sam, move!" she shouted. "I've got him."

Instead of rolling off the man, Sam grabbed the stranger's shirt collar and used it to bash the guy's head on the edge of the bench behind them. At first the man flailed, trying to break Sam's hold on him. Sam didn't let go, he kept banging and banging the other man's head against the bench until the gun clattered to the floor and the man's eyes rolled back into his head.

Sarah ran forward, kicking the gun clear. "It's all right, Sam. Stop."

Sam gasped, his breath rattling through him in a sick wheeze as he leveraged his weight back, still trying to knock the other man against the bench. Sarah knelt beside him, placed her arms around him. "Sshhh," she whispered into his ear. "It's okay. You can let go now."

He dropped the man, who fell to the floor, lifeless. Then Sam slumped into her arms. She held him tight, supporting him.

"I tried," he sobbed. "I tried so hard..."

His eyes closed and he collapsed.

December 24, 2007: Hopewell, NY

I still hear Alan's screams, sometimes I'm not even asleep. When I do, I go up to Josh's room and watch him as he lays sleeping. He hasn't had any nightmares in months, sleeps so deep and peacefully that even his snoring doesn't wake him.

Just like his father.

When I do dream, I often see Damian Wright's face, that ghastly smile he gave me right before he died. As if he pitied me, knew what was coming. He opens his mouth and it's Alan's scream that I hear. What scares me the most is that I don't feel guilty about killing Alan or the other two men—I took three lives that night, shouldn't I feel something more than relief? Than joy at the sight of Josh and Sam alive and whole?

I tell myself that I'm not the monster Damian was or anything like Alan. The Colonel and I have been taking long walks now that hunting season has begun. We've yet to shoot anything or even draw a bead on our prey, instead we've been content to merely track and watch them. Sometimes we'll talk—for the first time he's told me the truth about his war. Maybe someday I'll be ready to tell him about mine.

Sam says I'm spoiling Josh but—

Sarah dropped her pen and the journal as the phone rang again. She looked to her bedroom door. Sam and Josh were in the kitchen decorating sugar cookies. It rang a third time. She rolled her eyes and grabbed the receiver.

"Sarah? It's Caitlyn. Sorry to disturb you on the holiday."

Sarah tensed but Caitlyn's voice was lighthearted. She forced herself to take a deep breath and eased her grip on the phone. "Hi, Caitlyn. Merry Christmas. Have you gotten any snow down there?"

"No, but I heard you got dumped on. Listen, I just wanted to let you know. Korsakov is dead."

"What? How?"

"His own family took a hit out on him. Heard that he was going to make a deal now that he was facing the death penalty. They'd pretty much already disowned him after he lost all that money eight years ago, but I guess this was the last straw."

Sarah's gaze darted around the room. Nothing had changed. But everything had changed. "So, we don't have to worry—I mean, they're not going to—"

"No. Y'all are safe and in the clear."

Sarah slumped on the edge of the bed. Blew her breath out. "Wow. Thanks, Caitlyn. That's about the best Christmas present anyone could ever give us."

"You're quite welcome."

There was a pause as Sarah gathered her thoughts. "Caitlyn, do you ever dream? About that night? About Hal?"

Caitlyn's breath rasped across the phone line.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked—"

"Yeah, I do," came Caitlyn's quiet reply. "They're getting better. It's not exactly something you forget about overnight."

Sarah paced the length of the room and closed her door. "That's what I thought. But Sam, he doesn't dream, not since he got home from the hospital."

"You and Sam are sleeping together now?" Caitlyn's tone held a note of surprise.

"No, he's still sleeping in the office. But some nights I just need to know he's there, so I go in and I watch him." She leaned against her dresser scrutinizing her face in the mirror. "Am I crazy?"

"You're not crazy, Sarah. For you the nightmare began last summer. For Sam and Josh it was finally over. They're home again, safe and sound. Well, except for the pins in Sam's ankle that is. Plus, I think it's different for guys. They don't worry as much about the could-haves or should-haves as we do."

"I was such a fool, trusting Alan."

"No. You were human. So," her voice took on a note of jocularity, "when you gonna cut Sam a break, forgive him? After all the guy risked his life and almost died for you and Josh how many times?"

"You don't have kids, you can't understand. To do what he did..." Sarah trailed off. It was the same argument she'd been using for six months now and the words no longer had the impact they once did. She changed the subject. "I still can't believe I didn't see what was going on with Hal. How could I have missed that?"

"Don't beat yourself up. Over a third of meth addicts are professionals holding down steady jobs. Including teachers, lawyers, doctors, and law enforcement officers."

"Speaking of doctors, what’s up with you and the neuro-surgeon?"

"Neurologist," Caitlyn corrected. "Things are good."

Sarah could hear the smile in her voice and guessed the doctor who had saved Caitlyn’s life by clipping the leaking blood vessel that had caused her severe migraines must be close by.

"How's Sam like teaching music?" Caitlyn asked.

"He's a natural." Sarah brightened. "You should see him with those kids. And he's loving playing Santa Claus, dividing up the finder's fee the government gave him among Katrina victims, the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children and more. He's like a kid again. And guess what? He finally sold a song!"

"No kidding. Which one?"

"The one he was working on when he left. Sold it to a daytime soap opera of all places."

"I don't want to hold you up. Give him and Josh a kiss and hug for me, all right?"

"Thanks, Caitlyn. Merry Christmas."

Sarah hung up and glanced into the mirror again. A broad smile creased her face. She stared at her reflection, realizing it wasn't the news of Korsakov's death that had brought that gleam of joy to her eyes. It had happened while she was telling Caitlyn about Sam—it was the same light, floaty feeling she'd felt seven years ago when she'd first fallen in love with him.

Nonsense. She grabbed her hairbrush, pulled her hair back, and set it back down on the dresser. And realized something was missing. Puzzled, she left the bedroom and joined Sam and Josh in the kitchen. As usual, they'd managed to get more of the icing and candy sprinkles on the floor and themselves than on the cookies. Josh's mouth was ringed with pink as he licked frosting from his finger.

"Josh, were you in my room?" she asked. "Did you take the ring box from my dresser?"

He giggled and shook his head back and forth.

"I did," Sam said. Josh's laughter grew as Sam turned to him and placed a finger over his lips. Obviously they shared a secret. "I didn't think you'd notice so quickly. Here." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small black velvet box.

Sarah looked from one of them to the other, both grinning like idiots. They were so much alike with their dark hair and dark eyes crinkled with delight.

"What's going on?" she asked as she took the box. Then she opened it. Nestled inside was a gleaming diamond engagement ring. Sarah felt her mouth drop open in surprise.

"I promised you I'd get you a real one as soon as I sold a song," Sam said, startling her further by dropping to one knee and reaching for her hand. "The only question is, will you wear it? Sarah Godwin, will you be my bride? Again?"