Ancient Echoes

CHAPTER 40



THAT NIGHT, RACHEL Gooding hurried back to the community house from the outhouse, her head filled with both hope and despair after hearing Charlotte’s tale of the search party trying to rescue them. Sam Black suddenly appeared on pathway.

“I need a woman to warm my bed tonight.” He slurred his words as he looked her up and down. “You’ll do.”

She backed away. He smiled. “You can’t outrun me, missy.”

“Get out of here, Sam!” Will Durham stood in the doorway of his hut, his gun pointed at his fellow villager. “You’re drunk.”

“I’ve had my fill of liquor,” Sam said. “It’s something else I’m craving now.”

“You heard the Captain.” Will stepped between the two. “The women are to be left alone.”

Sam spat on the ground. “Until he wants one himself.” He tried to sidestep Will, but Will pushed him back.

“You'll have to go through me, Sam.”

“These whores aren't worth fighting amongst ourselves!” Sam shouted as he backed away. “Hell, there’s others. And them that’s not so scrawny.”

Will took hold of Rachel's wrist and whispered to her, “Come inside with me until he’s gone.”

In her relief to escape Sam, she did as he said. Not until he shut the door behind her did she realize she might have gone from the proverbial frying pan into the fire.

“I won't hurt you,” Will said. “But go out there now and someone might. If not Sam, then Arnie or Gus. Maybe Kohler himself. It's been a long time since any of us have been around women. Some of the men, clearly, have forgotten how to behave.”

“But not you?” she said, a mocking jeer to her voice.

“I don't force women.”

“Oh? You're irresistible, are you?”

“To one, I was. The woman I love. You're safe with me.”

That stopped her, and she nodded. The room had a small cot-like bed, one chair and a desk-size table.

“Take the bed. I have work to do.” Will picked up a chip of obsidian, sat on the chair, and began to sharpen it.

She sat on the bed’s edge, unsure of him or any of this. She watched him work.

The accuracy the villagers could achieve with bows and arrows amazed her. She saw the hateful Sam Black take down a Canadian goose in flight the day before. “Why do you do that?” she asked as he finished one and picked up a second. “You have guns, why bother with bows and arrows?”

“When the bullets are spent,” he said, “the guns are worthless. The arrows can be fashioned by us, and this way we can always eat.”

“I see,” she said. He continued to sharpen the stone and said nothing more.

“Have you really been here thirteen years?” she asked.

So many seconds passed before he answered she thought he wasn’t going to. Then their gazes met, and she saw a sadness in his that struck her. He seemed every bit as unhappy to be here as she was. Perhaps just as trapped in his own way. Whatever it was, she felt she may have found a kindred spirit.

His hands stilled. “That must seem an infinite amount of time to one so young as you.”

She studied his face. Up close she saw that despite the beard, his skin was youthful. “You aren't exactly old, you know.”

His gaze flickered toward her then away. “I've always been plagued with a youthful demeanor.” He gave a shy, almost embarrassed smile.

She wondered if he and the others were part of a military or special operations mission that had gone bad. It would make sense if all this was classified, and would explain the secrecy surrounding this place. Fear for her situation and a hope that Will just might tell her the truth, emboldened her to ask, “Are we in danger here? Should we be afraid of you? All of you?”

His response wasn't what she'd hoped for. “There is evil here. It isn't our fault, but it has happened. If you can get away, it will be better for you.”

“What do you mean?”

He put down the obsidian, his face harsh yet desperate. “I'll protect you, Rachel. I'll do whatever is in my power to protect you. But I may not be enough.”

“My God, Will!” she cried, frightened by the change in him.

He clasped his hands together and stared at the floor, as if realizing he had said too much. “I'm sorry that you and the others are caught up in this.”

“What is it?” She was near tears. “What's going on here?”

“It's more than I know, and what little I know, I can't explain,” he said. “But I can tell you this. I wasn't always this way. I was a good man once, loved by a kind and gracious woman. I gave all that up and came here, and nothing has ever been the same.”

“Why did you come?”

“Why did you?” he countered. “I suspect for the same reasons—adventure, something new, interesting, and with thoughts of what it might mean to my future to have had this experience, something few people could even imagine.”

“To beef up the résumé,” she said.

He chuckled. “You have an interesting way with words,” he said.

She looked surprised. “Not me—you're the one with the odd accent. Where are you from?”

“I can't say.”

“Can't or won't.”

“Won't,” he replied firmly. “Don’t worry, Rachel. I won’t let anything happen to you.” To her surprise, he reached out and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. He kept his touch light, and he withdrew it after only a moment. The brief encounter forced her to realize how cold the Professor and Melisse were, how completely self-centered Brandi was, and how very afraid and alone she felt. She responded to Will's touch with a mixture of gratitude for a simple kindness, and something more.

“You're trapped here, aren't you?” she asked with sudden insight. “Just as we are.”

“It’s not worth pondering,” he said.

“I'm so sorry,” she said, “for us both.”

His voice dropped as he swayed ever so slightly toward her. “If the chance arises for you to escape, do it, Rachel.”

“Come with us,” she said. “Let's leave, all of us together.”

“I wish I could.”

“You can,” she pleaded. “You know this area so much better than the rest of us. You must have some idea of what to do, which way to go. Help us, please.” She placed her hand on his arm, and he covered it with his own. His fingers and palms were callused from hard work. As she looked from their hands to his face, she felt his fingers tighten ever so slightly before he pulled his hand away and picked up the arrowhead.

“Let me think about it,” he whispered.

She nodded.

“It’s quiet now, outside,” he said. “I suspect the others will soon be asleep. It’s my turn to keep watch all night. First, I’ll walk you back to the community house. Don't worry. I'll make sure you’re safe.”

He held her hand as he led her back.

She went straight up to her pallet without a word to the others. She didn’t want to answer their questions about where she had gone for so long or why Will Durham had been with her.

She lay down, exhausted. With Will’s assurances of her safety echoing in her mind, for the first time since this madness began, she slept peacefully and deeply.