52
Rachel
I waited until Mama had been gone awhile. I hoped she was okay, but I knew that, no matter what, I was going. I heard Wyatt’s voice in my head, urging me to be safe. I knew I wouldn’t. I wished I could hear Mama, know what was happening, but I could not. I worried about her. Everyone was trying to protect me, at great risk to themselves. It wasn’t fair. I would rather risk my own life than be left here, worrying.
When Mama had been gone several minutes, I checked to make sure no one was outside, nor on the road. Then, I opened the car door. After making sure to pull all my hair from the car, I stepped onto the still-snowy ground.
“Rachel, please don’t go,” Wyatt’s voice said.
“I’m coming,” I said, “so it would be more helpful if you could tell me where to go, what to do.”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m underground and can’t see anything.”
“It’s okay,” I said.
“I love you.”
“I love you too. I’ll find you.”
He seemed to know that was the end of the conversation. At least, he stopped talking. I walked, dragging my hair behind me, next to the bushes and peered around at the building. I could see Mama in the doorway, talking to someone, even arguing. What if he came out, looking for me? With my long hair, I was vulnerable. It was like a cat’s tail, always hanging out, giving the cat away.
There was an opening in the bushes, a spot with several trees. I pushed through them and, gathering my hair into several loops, tried to walk closer, pushing against a tree ahead of me.
Suddenly, I heard a crack. Then, the tree I had touched disappeared from under my hand. It broke in two, the top half collapsing against the other trees.
Had I done that? Was I so strong that I had broken a tree, albeit a small one, without even thinking? Had my hair given me the strength of Samson after all?
More carefully this time, I walked through the remaining trees. I tried to avoid pushing against them, but when one proved too tight a squeeze, I shoved it. It gave way, and I stepped around it.
Finally, I was in a place where I could see the door, see Mama through the trees.
Only where was Mama?
She was gone! Had they taken her? Hurt her? I felt as if a hand was squeezing my stomach. Yet, I had to move on. I had to find her and Wyatt now.
I followed the line of trees, this time to the back of the building. There was a light inside, but it was very dim. I had to push a few trees out of the way, and I enjoyed it, like a child with a new toy. Would I have strength to fight whatever came too? I hoped so. I also hoped I would know what to do. Mama had said it was a prophecy that I would end this all. But how?
I reached the back of the building. I wished I had a candle, so I could see. Still, I emerged from the trees and ran to it, pulling my hair behind me. Then, I started walking, trailing my left hand behind me, feeling for a doorway, a window, any way to get inside.
Suddenly, my feet hit a new surface. While, previously, I had felt only snow over soft dirt, like I had felt by my tower, now, I felt something hard, like a floor. The next moment, my hand touched a railing.
It was a staircase, and it went under the ground.
“I’m underground,” Wyatt had said. I stepped forward. Perhaps there was a doorway down there, a way to find him.
As I did, I felt a tug on my hair. I reached up to pull it back, but I couldn’t.
Then, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Gotcha,” a voice said.