The Whole Truth (33 page)

Bethany set the flashlight on the ground, reached into one of the bags. “Can you rip your pant leg?” she said.

“I'll give it a shot.”

“Here.” Her hand reached to him. In it was a knife. With a six-inch blade.

“My my,” Steve said.

“Go on.”

Steve didn't give it a second thought. She was his rescuer, his nurse. And she had a knife. He'd do what she said.

He cut the pant leg open. Cold air hit the wound. He couldn't see it clearly but felt that some blood still flowed.

Bethany reached into one of the paper bags and came out with something, looked like a wadded shirt. She opened one of the jugs of water and doused the material. She began washing the leg.

It was scraping work, but Steve took it gratefully. If nothing else this would buy him some time. Now the only little task was getting to a real doctor.

And after that, getting stitched up and figuring out how to bring the LaSalles into flaming death.

“Does it hurt?” Bethany asked as she swiped the leg some more.

“It's numbing up,” Steve said.

“We just need to make it through the night.”

“Sounds like a country song.”

“Huh?”

“Country song. You like country songs?”

“We don't have those.”

“Ah. Eldon doesn't like 'em, I suppose.”

Bethany said nothing.

“They have the best titles,” Steve said. “Like, ‘You Stole My Wife, You Dirty Horse Thief.' ”

In the dimness Bethany smiled.

“And, ‘If Your Phone Ain't Ringin', It's Me.' ”

Bethany laughed.

“That's the ticket,” Steve said.

She grew silent. Then began to cry, softly at first.

Steve made himself sit up. She was kneeling at his side. He put his arms around her and pulled her to him, held her against his chest.

“I'm scared,” she said.

“I know.”

SIXTY-FIVE

She was calm a few minutes later and said, “Jericho told me about this place. He was one of us, but he had a rebellious spirit. He liked me. He was forbidden to talk to me but he found ways. He was out of Soledad prison.”

“Big surprise,” Steve said.

“He made this place and told me about it. He said if I ever wanted to run away with him we could hide here. Once he took me here in secret. I liked him.”

“Is that where you got the knife?”

“Everything in here was what he brought. But he got arrested again. And was killed in jail.”

“That seems very convenient.”

“Huh?”

“LaSalle has a way of dealing with people he doesn't like. Now maybe you can explain to me how you happened to be shooting at a car with me in it?”

“I heard them talking about you. The men all speak freely around the women. No one has ever resisted them or betrayed them. But ever since I have been here I have played this little game in my mind. It helps me to get through bad days. We all have to learn how to use rifles. The Master — I keep calling him that — has told us that they may come someday to try to take us, and we must all be ready to fight. Everyone does what he says. His word is law. He has told everyone he is the prophet of God, just like Muhammad for the Muslims.”

“And people actually believe that?”

“I did. I didn't think my father would give me to anyone but the prophet of God.”

“Did you ever try to get away before?”

“To what? That life is all I know. He was good to me.”

“Yeah, I saw how good.”

“Before that. The last few years have been hard on him.”

“I'm all broken up about that.”

“You never knew him the way I did.”

“Then why are you running out on him?”

“I don't know exactly. I just knew I couldn't let you die.

” Steve reached out and took her hand. “Bethany, thank you.

” She nodded slowly.

“I need to ask you some questions,” Steve said.

“You need to rest.”

“Questions first. Do you know about me?”

“I know that you are Johnny's brother.”

“How much do you know about Johnny?”

“Much.”

“Do you know a woman named Sienna?”

Bethany nodded. “Johnny's woman.”

“That's what I want to hear about.” Steve shifted on the bedroll. Wood creaked underneath him. Or maybe it was his own bones. “Tell me everything you know about her.”

“I know that she helped on Johnny's parole petition when he was in prison. Over a year ago. She is a law student and was volunteering.”

“She met Johnny while he was in prison?”

“Yes. Johnny brought her to Beth-El.”

Steve shook his head. “She's the best liar I've ever seen. She'll be a great trial lawyer. I just don't see how . . .”

“You know Johnny.”

“I thought I did.”

“He has power like his father.”

“Power to use people?”

“He has used me. He has a way. He can get people to do things.”

Steve touched her arm. “I can't even begin to imagine what you must have been through.”

“You're right, Mr. Conroy. You can't.”

“You can call me Steve if you like.”

“All right.”

“And now we need to figure out how we're going to get out of here.”

“God will show us the way.”

“How can you believe in God after what they did to you?”

She blinked at him, almost as if she didn't understand the question. “I have always believed in God, even before I believed in Eldon LaSalle. That will not change.”

“I guess I don't quite get it,” Steve said.

“I saw an angel when I was a girl.”

Steve said nothing.

“You don't believe me?” Bethany asked.

“Oh sure, I believe you think you did. I once thought I saw Santa's sleigh.”

Bethany giggled. It was at once girlish and charming.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “My brother, he was Robert then, was telling me how Santa comes at Christmas and lands on your roof and comes down the chimney and all that. It was Christmas Eve and I got so excited I couldn't get to sleep. Just before I dropped off I looked out my window over at my neighbor's house, and there it was, Santa's sleigh, the moonlight behind it. I can still see it.”

“What did you do?”

“I woke up my brother and tried to show him, but it was gone. Robert said Santa moves fast, and told me to go back to sleep.”

“But you didn't really see it, did you?”

“I thought I did.”

“I know I did.”

“Sure.”

“I was four years old and I had to have a heart operation. The valve in my heart had a hole in it. I remember them putting me to sleep. The doctor and the nurses were there. I was scared. But then I saw two angels. They were all in white and their faces were bright. And they had noses.”

“Noses?”

“That's something I remembered. I told my mommy about the noses. She believed me. She was the only one to believe me. She died a year later. But I saw them.”

“You were a little girl under anesthesia.”

“I saw them!”

“All right. Who am I to say any different? I saw an angel too.”

“You did?” She sounded four years old again.

“It was you,” Steve said.

SIXTY-SIX

Steve woke up in the gray of dawn. He didn't know where he was. His mind struggled for a few seconds, trying to figure it out. Recent memories were compressed, like big files on a hard drive. Then they started to open and he remembered.

His leg. He touched it where Bethany had applied a dressing. A big section of it was numb.

Bethany. She was not next to him. The sleeping bag was empty.

He tried to move. Every part of his body screamed.

Voices. He heard voices coming from the distance. A conversation.

Bethany was talking to someone. A man. Only snatches of words.

The man's voice first.

. . .
can make it back . . . sure to tell him . . . nice to me . . .

Bethany: . . .
I be nice to you?

The man laughed. . . .
cool . . . ol' Zeke . . . nobody'll know. . .

Bethany: . . .
not here . . . let's go back . . .

. . . not going back . . .

Then silence and the sound of steps coming his way.

A dog barked.

Zeke.
Ezekiel.

One of the LaSalleites had brought the dog out and found them. Somehow. And he was a few yards away from seeing Steve.

Steve looked around the dismal quarters and saw the knife he'd used to cut his pants.

Grabbed it and listened.

The footsteps stopped right outside the lean-to.

“We should not do this,” Bethany said. “Master will not like it.”

“Master isn't gonna know about it, is he?” Familiar voice.

Rennie.

“He will find out,” Bethany said. Pleading. Protecting him, Steve thought.

The dog kept barking.

“Shut up, Zeke!” Rennie said. Then softly, “I can make it right for you. You don't worry about a thing. You were a bad girl to run off like that. You're lucky I'm the one that found you. You be nice to ol' Rennie and I'll make it right.”

“Don't do this.”

The dog barked louder, crazy loud. He must have been tied up to a tree or something and was going nuts.

“Zeke!” Rennie shouted. “Shut it!”

The dog kept it up.

“I'm gonna have to slap that dog,” Rennie said. “Now you don't want to end up like that lawyer, do you? They're never gonna find his body. You, you got a chance. Zeke!”

More barking.

“Now you get yourself inside there,” Rennie said to Bethany. “Now. I'll be right back.”

Pause.

“Now,” he said.

Steve saw Bethany get to her knees and back slowly inside. She was blocking the view if Rennie should have a look. But he didn't. “Zeke, now you just relax, boy . . .” His voice drifted as he moved away from the lean-to.

Steve put his hand on Bethany's arm, indicating that she not move. Paused. Then he whispered, “Stay on your knees facing out. When he sticks his head in, can you pull his head down?”

“I don't know,” she whispered back.

“Try. You have to. You have one shot. I'm going to get him with this.” He held up the knife.

Bethany stared at it.

“Got it?” Steve said.

“Yes.”

“You'll do fine. Get a good grip. I only need a second.”

“Have you done this before?”

“No, but I don't intend to miss. Wait. Quiet.”

Steps were approaching again, crunching dirt and twigs.

“How you doin', darlin'?” Rennie said.

Bethany was silent.

“I said how you doin'?”

“I'm all right,” Bethany said.

Another step outside.

Steve held the knife with the blade up. He was going to go for the neck. His body felt coiled and ready, the adrenaline taking away the pain.

Another outside step.

Then . . . nothing.

For a long moment all movement in the world seemed to stop.

A growl.

Not a dog, Steve thought immediately. A man.

A man who grabbed Steve's ankles and pulled.

Steve's face ate dirt.

Rennie had come up on him from the other opening.

In breaking his fall, Steve opened his right hand. And dropped the knife.

He felt the surging strength of Rennie and the fresh fire in his leg. The iron-trap hands that had his ankles let go so Steve was spread out on his face like a bearskin rug.

A foot to his side kicked all the air out of his lungs. White sparklers lit up behind his eyes. The sound of his gasping melted into the renewed barking of the massive Zeke.

“Now look at that,” Rennie said. “You never know what you're gonna find out here. Where's Neal?”

Steve rolled slowly onto his back, unable to speak.

Rennie gave another kick, this one just enough to get his attention. “I asked you where Neal was.”

“I shot him.” Bethany's voice.

Steve saw Rennie turn toward the lean-to.

“You did?” Rennie said, almost admiringly. “Now how did you do that, little thing? You got a weapon in there?”

With one swift move Rennie shot a powerful kick to the lean-to. It cracked. He used his hands to pull at the plywood and cast it away, exposing the sleeping bags.

The knife. He'll see the knife.

Steve couldn't move.

“What'd you use there, Rahab?” Rennie kicked at the exposed bags and the dirt. “Where's the weapon?”

“I don't have it anymore.”

“Uh-huh. Like I'm supposed to buy that?”

The dog was so crazed now Steve was sure it would uproot whatever it was tethered to. Surer still that Rennie was about to kill him. And Bethany.

He tried to roll onto his stomach so he could prop himself up.

Rennie wasn't paying any attention to him. He approached Bethany, who stood with her hands at her sides.

She's got it. She's got the knife and she's going to use it.

“Sweetheart, you are in a very big world of hurt right now,” Rennie said. “You're gonna need me. You're gonna be nice to me. Now you tell me what you used to shoot poor Neal. Rifle?”

“Yes,” Bethany said.

“Sweet. How far away were you, honey? Was he moving?”

“Yes.”

“And where is he now?”

“He went over.”

“Over? He — ” Rennie looked Steve's way. “How'd he get out?”

Bethany didn't answer.

“Where's the rifle, honey?”

“I buried it.”

“You buried a rifle? Now why would you go and do a stupid thing like that? Don't you know a gopher might find it and shoot his eye out?”

He laughed. Ezekiel barked like there was no breakfast and no tomorrow.