Chapter 2 The Capture
He also forced everyone to receive a mark on his right hand..so that no one could buy or sell unless he had the mark..it is man's number…
7:28 p.m. PST Darrington Road Trailhead to GPW
Stumbling down the last few meters of the trail, Daniel stared in relief as the lot came into view. Duke barked eagerly and shot ahead, dashing toward the truck without waiting for him. There were two other vehicles parked at the trailhead, giving him a strange feeling as he watched Duke reach the side of the truck where he whirled around and barked, eager for him to catch up. Once he reached his side, Daniel patted his head fondly.
"Good boy," he croaked, carefully easing the heavy pack off. Heaving it into the back of the truck, he paused at the sound of engines off in the distance. Reaching into his pocket for the keys, he unlocked the door and waited for Duke to climb in and settle onto the passenger seat. With a tired groan Duke stared back in thankful relief.
"Me too," he breathed, distracted by the need to analyze his data to see what was going on beneath the mountain. With a glance toward the other vehicles he wondered why he'd seen no one else this whole trip. If anyone was still out there they should have already headed back, as it was already getting dark—unless of course they'd hiked further in and camped out. Just the thought made him uncomfortable, but there was nothing he could do about it.
Duke whined a bit so he reached into his pocket and tossed him a few treats. "I know, boy—I'm coming."
He thought of Amy and Samuel, praying for their safety as the sound of engines grew louder. Pursing his lips, he climbed into the truck just before two motorcycles roared into the view, swirling into a circle at the end of the lot and effectively blocking the exit. He counted three riders, two doubled up. Duke growled low as the engines were cut, pulling himself to full attention. Daniel fastened his seat belt and turned the key. The engine hesitated a bit before turning over, but the sound of a door sliding open drew his attention. To his astonishment he saw a huge man climb out of the van, then another suddenly appearing from the other side of the parked van. Meanwhile the three bikers were coming toward his truck. His mouth went dry even as he gunned the engine. He watched in alarm as they eyed him and closed the distance between them.
That's five of them, two of us... he counted, the hair on the back of his neck rising with Duke's growl. Making a decision, he shifted quickly into reverse.
"Easy boy," he soothed Duke, braking hard when one of the men jumped in front of him. Slamming back against his seat, he realized that they now had the upper hand, unless of course he ran them over.
Maybe I'm just paranoid, he reasoned, cold dream sinking into the pit of his stomach as they came up to the side of his truck. Then again, they obviously weren't here for hiking...
"Evenin'," the biggest one growled, casually laying a hand on the roof of the truck. "Where you headed so fast—we just wanna find out where the Trail's End Lodge might be!"
Duke growled in warning as Daniel held the man's gaze, noting how the others stared at them like wolves studying their prey.
"Up the road about twelve kilometers," he answered, gazing forward as he shifted back into first, "can't miss it."
Please, God, help us get out of this—
"Ever stayed there?" he man demanded, leaning closer while he was forced to hold the brake.
"Take a left out of the lot, you can't miss it," he repeated, daring to meet the man's gaze. "We'll be moving on now," he stated with a curt nod.
The man grinned evilly. "You don't say? We must've drove right by it, huh boys?"
One of them stepped closer. "How 'bout you show us?" he challenged, eyes glinting like coal.
Feeling for his knife, Daniel narrowed his gaze. "Look, Glacier Peak here is showing signs of a big problem so you'd better get out of here fast," he stated, nodding toward his beeping satellite phone. "The alarm's already sounding."
"Really?" the man stated before suddenly yanking open his door. "What are you—some kind of prophet?"
Stunned, Daniel nevertheless held his gaze. "I'm a geologist, and the phone's connected to the Cascades Volcano Observatory alarm system," he replied, yanking the door back and releasing the clutch. "Don't say I didn't warn you—"
"You're not going anywhere, pal!" the man shouted, swinging up onto the step as he reached in.
Daniel hit the brake, swinging his knife up to graze the man's arm. Taking advantage, the others swarmed the truck, pulled open the door and dragged him from the truck, swinging at Duke with a billy club. They shoved him back against the fender, kicking the door shut to keep Duke inside, but he clawed and barked ferociously in his defense.
Bending and twisting away, Daniel punched the closest one in the ribs and kicked the leader, who bellowed in rage and held his bleeding arm. They surrounded him and though he fought as best he could he was outnumbered. Finally pinning him face down against the hood, they wrenched his arms behind his back while the leader kicked his knife from reach.
"I've only got 10 Euros," he panted, grimacing at the pain slicing through his shoulders and arms. One of them dared to open the door, beating Duke away while managing to snatch up the phone. Another man climbed up into the back of the truck and searched his backpack, tossing the contents all over the ground.
"We don't want your money," the leader snarled, one of his cohorts binding his wound with a neckerchief. "Check his wrists!" he ordered.
They turned him around and held his arms, slashing at his sleeves while he realized what they really wanted. Stunned, Daniel realized that after all these years he'd finally been caught. And it was clear these were no ordinary thugs.
Bounty hunters!
"I've got a federal security clearance," he gasped, wincing as they probed his forearms with a rusty looking knife. The eerie sensation of blood trickling down his skin seemed unreal. They were searching for his nonexistent microchip. "If they don't hear from me within the next few minutes the authorities will be alerted—"
"You really think I believe that?" the leader snarled, folding his arms as he watched the procedure. "You're that important are you?"
"In the event of a volcanic event yes, I am," he ground out, bowing his head at the deep cuts they were making. Finally they gave up, punched him in the middle a few times and grunted in satisfaction when he fell to his knees.
"Nothin, boss!" one of them shouted in triumph while they finally released him.
He curled his injured arms inward, forcing himself to keep silent. A swift kick beneath his chin knocked him over, where he lay gasping for breath, seeing stars. Fighting against passing out, he heard them hoot for joy.
"Whoo-eey—looks like we hit the jackpot boys!"
"We got a real live off-liner here, just like you thought!" one of the others cheered.
"The phone will earn us a nice dividend too," the leader droned. "Authorities, huh? Pick him up!"
Daniel was pulled to his feet, stumbling backward before his upper arms were gripped hard as they led him toward the van.
"Oughta get a good price for him on the auction block," the one at his left called triumphantly.
"Let's get moving!" the leader ordered from behind them.
"Told you he was one of em!" another chimed in.
Daniel heard the sound of Duke's barking grow more distant. Once they reached the van he was shoved face first against its side, held in place while they cuffed his wrists. Clenching his teeth to keep from crying out from the pain, he panted lightly and prayed he wouldn't pass out.
The leader leaned close. "How you ever managed to avoid capture before now's beyond me," he chuckled.
"You're mistaken," Daniel lied, wincing as he was turned to face him. "I'm not who you think I am—"
"Since I've been tracking you so long, I kinda disagree," he smiled evilly.
"Hey how do we get this thing to stop?" the other one complained, searching the phone for the mute button. "Ah—there we go."
The ensuing silence magnified the stillness surrounding them. Even Duke had stopped barking, but they shoved him into the van where he landed face down. Arms pulled behind him he grunted when someone sat on top of him, stealing his breath. Groaning in pain, he was aware of the others climbing in.
"What about the dog?"
"Leave him—he's of no value to us."
Daniel's hands were numb, his ankles bound with a chain and hooked to the back corner of the van. Finally the man climbed off him, enabling him to take a few deep breaths. The doors slammed shut as the motorcycles roared to life.
"Give him a shot, Doc," the leader ordered from somewhere up front.
"'K boss—be happy to but I think you need a few stitches for that cut—"
"I'm fine," he shot back as the motorcycles roared past them.
Daniel felt something jab his arm and pursed his lips. The man leaned closer, his breath reeking of liquor.
"Sure fooled us," Doc muttered, gripping his upper arm and administering the shot. "Not as helpless as you look, huh pal?"
Trying to focus on every detail he could, Daniel knew he only had moments to concentrate on their surroundings before he passed out. The van backed up, burnt rubber and careened across the lot. Turning left, they headed onto the access road and began to climb through the hairpin turns. His mind already fogging up, he felt nauseous but realized they were heading up the mountain, further inland. Feeling the drug pull him toward oblivion, he stared dazedly at blood pooling on the floor beneath his wrists. Then fleeting images of his life played across his memory…his father's angry face, his mother's tears, Amy's cries pulling at his heart…crouching shivering in the alley of downtown Seattle, hungry and terrified…then, he was sitting at his desk writing proposals...the core room at the university…the photo of his nephew…then darkness.
10:52 p.m. PST Old Logging Road, SE Border/"The Shire"
Amy held Samuel close, watching the light stream from the front door, illuminating the faces of their rescuers. The teenager stepped aside, glancing away as if feeling guilty. His father pursed his lips and replaced the fake rock Daniel had told her about, the one that hid the key to his house. She had to believe that this man was who he said he was, Daniel's friend. He met her gaze, nodding for her to step inside. She entered the strange opening in the side of the hill, holding her breath and feeling like an intruder herself. Leading the way inside, she was aware of them following as she stared around, astonished by what she saw. Halting in the middle of the great room, she heard their steps halt as the door closed them in. The dad came up to her left and she felt him studying her profile in silence.
"This is Daniel's home?" she half whispered, finding it larger and more finely furnished than she'd expected. Before her was a spacious parlor complete with fireplace and rocking chairs atop a finely woven rug. The floor beneath shone in the dim light from the recessed ceiling lamps. To their left stood a small galley kitchen, well polished cabinets reflecting the golden light. Two bar stools waited at the edge of the counter, perched atop a lightly waxed floor. On almost all the wall were built-in bookshelves filled with rows of books. She turned and looked up into the stranger's hesitant eyes.
"I can show you around, if you like," he said quietly, his gaze dropping to Samuel's sleeping face for a moment. She thought she caught a fleeting expression of yearning there before he glanced away.
"I'd like that," she heard herself reply, Samuel's weight growing heavy. "First I'd like to lay him down, if there's a bedroom?"
"Of course," he said hoarsely, gesturing toward her right. "In there…there's a loft, too," he said matter of factly as she started in that direction. Then, pausing, she glanced back.
"Could you both wait, please?" she whispered, eyeing the son as well. He nodded despite looking as if he might run out the door. "It'll just take a moment."
"'course," the father answered as she turned away.
Feeling their eyes upon her back, she entered the darkened room, realized how accurately this place had been labeled a hobbit home. Both father and son had admitted to calling Daniel's home The Shire, which had brought tears to her eyes when she remembered her brother reading that book to her when she was little. Grieved all over again for her own loss, she bent to lay her son on top of the bed, then slipped off his shoes and covered him with the blanket from the foot of the bed. It was a small room, warm and hinting at the scent of evergreen, not moldy as she'd imagined it.
Samuel sighed and turned into the pillow, settling quickly into his sleep. Turning away, she went back to the Andersons.
"I can't thank you both enough for bringing us here," she sighed, noting how tired they looked. "I never would have found it, not even in daylight. You've both been so kind to us…"
"No problem," Nate answered with a shrug. "I'll wait in the truck, ok Dad?"
He nodded, waiting until his son left before turning to her. His eyes locked with hers. "Try not to worry about your brother ok?" he said quietly. "If I know Daniel at all I'd say he's a survivor, and if he told you to meet him here he'll do whatever it takes to come back."
She nodded, swallowing hard at the sudden threat of tears. "Thank you, Mr. Anderson—"
"Please," he insisted, "call me Jim."
"..ok Jim. Thank you, and thank Nate for rescuing us."
He nodded, rubbing his chin where a few days' growth of beard was sprinkled. "Glad to help."
Somehow she felt safe with him, even though he was virtually a stranger.
"Well, you can see that your brother's got everything you'll ever need in one compact home. There's a refrigerator, an oven and sink with a disposal, even a composter. He stores the scraps for the gardens out back," he nodded in the direction behind her right shoulder. "There's a full bath with shower and even laundry facilities. Everything's solar and wind powered, completely off grid."
She looked back up at him, feeling shaky and overwhelmed. "That's my brother…off-grid."
"Well he's a genius, far as I'm concerned," he sighed. "He helped us do the same for our house..."
She nodded, feeling exhausted. "Well…thank you again, for everything…I don't want to keep you."
He nodded and turned to the door. Outside the dim light of the truck's headlights glowed against a heavy fog. He stepped out turned to study her a moment. "Try to get some rest. I'll be by tomorrow afternoon to check on you and see if you need help running things."
"I'd appreciate that," she sighed, glancing around the perimeter of what yard she could see. "I really hope Daniel comes home tonight…"
"We'll keep an ear open, but if he's not back within 24 hours we'll head out to look for him. I'll pass the word," he offered, hesitating again. "You know...we're blessed to know your brother. I couldn't ask for a better friend or neighbor."
She wiped at the corner of her eye, avoiding his penetrating gaze. "If I'd only known…"
He leaned a bit closer. "Look…I mean what I say…city folks might not understand him, but out here things are different. Rest assured, he'd want you here and safe so that goes for us too."
She nodded, glancing toward the slouched silhouette in the truck. "Your son saved our lives tonight."
He nodded. "He's a good kid," he agreed, sobering considerably. "Given the recent events be on the lookout…there'll be looters and God only knows what else coming down the pike. Keep a close eye on your surroundings. And now I'll say goodnight."
She half lifted a hand in farewell. "Good night."
Watching until he climbed into his truck, she waited while they drove off down the incline toward the dirt road. Feeling more alone than ever, she gave in to the tears that had threatened all night, ducking back inside and locking the door as instructed. Leaning back against it, she concentrated on the orderly and comfortable hobbit hole that apparently was to become their home until Daniel came back and they could talk about her finding a place of their own. Somehow his presence gave her a sense of peace, and she prayed for his safe return.
"Oh Daniel," she choked, glancing in Samuel's direction. "Come home soon, wherever you are."
Friday August 13th 8:19 p.m. MSTVicinity of Post Falls, ID area, Quadrant 13
Dragging his eyes open, he squinted against blinding lights as pain shot through his head. With a groan he turned his head away, slowly regaining his senses. With some difficulty he tried to take note of his surroundings, shifting tentatively in the metal chair to find that shackles bound his hands behind his back and his ankles to the legs of the chair. His fingers pricked with numbness and his feet were cold and stiff. How long had he been sitting here….hours or only minutes?
His side ached with each breath as he concentrated on the distant sound of cheers and cries of blood lust. His mind swam with visions of being beaten and questioned but he switched his attention back to his surroundings, despite the lights. The floor was stained and rusted, its metal plates poorly fitted. The walls were of thinner material, corrugated aluminum, with only one iron door. Except for the one-way mirrored window, there was nothing else in the cell.
A bout of shivering gripped him, though he tensed against it. Flexing his numb fingers, he grimaced at the blaring music that sounded like a metal rock concert echoing off the walls and floor. He wanted to yell and protest despite the wimpy croak of his voice that barely issued past his bruised and parched throat. His tongue was dry, his hair matted down and his clothes were damp from the fever that crawled over his skin. He stunk from the pailful of stinking liquid they'd thrown over him to cool him off—that he did remember clearly. The place reeked of a urine, vomit and hard liquor, nauseatingly oppressive and cold.
If the Lord had not been on our side, surely our enemies would have triumphed over us…
Choking back a sob of grief at that verse added to the sad state of his condition, he forced back a wave of bitterness, choosing instead to draw from the only strength he had left. The Voice was silent at the moment, but he pleaded anyway in a careful whisper.
"Ah—you're awake!" a voice thundered over the loudspeaker, cutting the music to a more tolerable level.
Startled, Daniel lifted his head just as the door opened. Two guards entered, taking their stand by the entrance with hard and vacant expressions. They were dressed in rags, thin and malnourished looking despite the leather and chains they wore. It appeared they were awaiting further instructions, which for some odd reason made him feel like laughing.
"Stand him up," the voice ordered. He bit back a laugh as they approached, one bending to unlock his ankles, the other opening the locks on his hands. His arms fell limply to his sides before the dragged him to his feet. The sudden change in position and its accompanying pain made him feel faint and he swayed, steadied by their grip on his upper arms as they awaited whatever fate was declared for him.
"All I'm asking is 150 Euros," a familiar voice blared through the speaker. "Take it or leave it."
"I don't know," a half-feminine, half-masculine voice sighed. "He's not very big—he won't last a day in the mines."
"He said he's a geologist—doesn't that count in your kind of operation?"
"Yes I suppose it does…know what? Throw in the satellite phone and we've got a deal."
"What? That phone's worth more than he is! Besides it's not for sale—"
"I want the phone—you want me to take him off your hands or not? I'll give you 175!"
"For both? No way—I've got to cover expenses!"
"What expenses? It's obvious he's a Grab and Go—"
"Yeah right—I've tracked him for weeks so he's worth a whole lot more. This one's special I tell you, having lived off-grid as long as he has."
"And how long was that?"
"I'd say at least four years—"
"But you're not sure."
"No, but—"
"Look all you've got going for you is the fact that he's not chipped—so what? The boss isn't all that interested in bounty without any papers and I haven't got all night—"
"But he's valuable—educated and all! He warned us about the tsunami before it even happened."
"Sure he did—I'll give you 175 for him with the phone—"
"Make it 200 or I'm finding another buyer—"
"Alright, alright! Gracious you're tough! 200 it is."
"I still say he's worth more."
"Yeah well three hours of questioning produced nothing i.e. there is nothing!"
"That's cause he's trained not to give anything up—"
"Ok so spare me the fairy tale. Here's your requisition form—guards, take him to out-processing. I'll pick him up there."
Daniel swallowed a groan as they half-dragged him toward the door. Then he heard the voice add: "And watch the merchandise, understand? No more beatings—he's already damaged enough to be good for much of anything."
He was hurried out into a dark hallway lit by torches, blessed relief from the blinding lights. The floor was dirt beneath his bare feet, the corridors like a maze beneath the massive structure encasing them. Passing by other cells, they passed behind some kind of arena where the crowd roared and jeered. He shivered again, silently praying in thanksgiving that he was not the object of their attention. After a few more turns they came to an iron gate, pausing for the guard to open it. A waft of fresh air iced his skin as they moved on, eventually stopping in an open area by what seemed to be a loading dock. Here they tethered him to the wall by a chain while his guards once again took up their stance. Exhausted, he slid down the wall to his haunches, shivering in the draft.
To his amazement a hand appeared, extending a water bottle to him. Without looking up he seized it and drank greedily from the contents.
"Won't be long now," the guard who'd handed him the bottle breathed. "'been a long night."
Daniel lowered his head, forcing himself to accept the obvious fact that he'd been sold on the black market. From the bartering conversation it appeared he was headed to a mining facility, location unknown. Closing his eyes, he fought his growing despair.
Please, Father… get me out of here…
They waited for an unknown length of time, Daniel finally lowering himself to the floor. Raising his knees he rested his head on them and pictured Joseph, sold into slavery by his brothers. The writings clearly stated that despite his experiences the Lord was with him. Daniel unfortunately could not help but feel completely forsaken.
The guard who'd handed him the water cleared his voice. "You got a bad deal, man—worse thay n what we'd bet."
Trying to ignore him, Daniel kept silent.
"You know where you're headed?" the man continued, bending toward him. "That was the warden's lackey from Orofino."
"Hey—get up," the other man hissed. "No fraternizing with the prisoners!"
"It's gonna be a while, you know that," he hissed back, directing his attention back to Daniel. "Hey where'd you get that satellite phone? You some sort of spy?"
They chuckled as he lifted his head, eyeing them before resting it back against the wall.
"Yeah…James Bond at your service," he croaked.
"Hey, that's a good one," the friendlier one chortled. "Be sure to tell the warden that one."
He eyed him directly. "Warden of what?"
The other one poked Daniel with the nose of his gun. "You never heard of Orofino?" he marveled, shaking his head.
"We been there on special assignment," the other stated. "It's the Northwest Federated Penitentiary."
Daniel studied them a moment, amused at the irony of the situation. "You guys are prison guards?" he half chortled, half choked.
"'Course not—we work here," the one at his side marveled. "We're not crazy! To work there you gotta be hard, man. Real hard."
"Yeah," the other agreed. "You won't think it's so funny when the real ones come for you."
"Here they come," hissed his buddy, pulling Daniel to his feet.
The loading bay door strained upward on rusted pulleys and a party of three entered. Daniel stared at them, nearing hysteria. He swallowed a laugh despite knowing better. Towering over the heavily muscled guards was a transvestite in an outrageously provocative dress, feathers flying from hat and purple boa as he/she studied him a moment, frowning in disapproval.
"What you laughing at?" his buyer demanded, squinting down at him with obvious disdain.
"Nothing, Sir!" both Daniel's guards answered in unison, eyeing the prison guards with trepidation.
"Not you boneheads, you!"
Daniel stared at the ground, trying to calm his hysteria.
"He's probably just passed his limit, Sir," his kinder guard stated forcefully.
Suddenly a fist rammed into his gut, bringing Daniel to his knees as he gasped for breath.
"You think I'm funny? Wait til you meet Warden Holscomb! My guys—get him to the van pronto. We gotta be back before midnight to get him processed!"
"Come on," one of the prison guards ordered, yanking him up by one arm.
The other guard lifted his chain over his shoulder, fastened an iron collar around his neck and yanked the chain, cutting off his breath as he leaned close. "Don't mess with us, dude."
"Hey I want him alive—remember that!" the buyer called back over one shoulder, already heading out the door. "The warden will want some answers, so beware or you'll face the consequences."
Daniel was shoved forward, gasping for breath as he cradled the length of the chain against his chest. He shuffled in the wake of his buyer toward the van, where he has half lifted up and chained inside. Panting with fever, he hung his head and prayed not to throw up.
"I'm riding up front with Spike so keep a good eye on him—he looks kinda green around the gills."
"Yessir," they mumbled, sitting on opposite sides of each other. The driver locked the doors and they started off, thankfully without incident.
Daniel felt their gaze on him but only half lifted his head. Outside the small back windows he could see the streetlights flying by as he shivered and gagged, but there was nothing in his stomach. He tried to remember the last time he'd eaten, deciding it must have been the granola bar he'd munched coming down the trail God knew how many days ago.
They left the compound and drove out into the dark night as he shivered and fought the urge to lie on the floor of the van and sleep. No one said a word, and he took the opportunity to continue pleading with his Maker for divine intervention.
11:19 p.m. PST "The Shire"
Amy lifted her head, suddenly wide awake as she listened intently. Samuel slept peacefully at her side, curled into the heavy blanket and nestled against the wall. Slowly disengaging his hand from hers, she sat up and concentrated on the sound, a faint scratching that was coming from down the hall. She hadn't explored beyond the steel door at its end, having been told that through there were the storerooms and gardens beyond. Maybe it was an animal scrounging for food, she hoped, praying that it wasn't a person. Still, having limited knowledge and no experience with animals she wondered how she might scare it off. For once she was glad that she'd always been a light sleeper otherwise she wouldn't have heard it.
Reciting the shema, she decided to investigate and climbed gently off the high mattress. Bare feet touching the floor, she moved soundlessly across the room and made her way down the hall. At the door she stopped and listened, then heard a soft whine that made her heart swell with compassion. It sounded like a dog, lonely and hungry, out there alone in the dark. Remembering Samuel's continual pleas to get a dog, she cracked open the door and paused, hearing the soft whine again. It sounded so pathetic that she opened the door and squinted, seeing a silhouette by the dimness of what looked like plant lights beyond. The whites of its eyes stared at her a moment, then it came slowly toward her.
"Oh poor guy!" she whispered, bending toward it and hearing it sniff at her. Pulling Daniel's corduroy shirt closer in the draft, she watched the dog gaze up at her and wag its tail. Slipping past her as if on a mission, it trotted toward the kitchen as she eyed it closely and locked the door behind her. Finding the dog beneath the counter she stared while it lapped water from a bowl she hadn't noticed beneath. Bending down and gently petting its shoulder, she noted another bowl labeled Duke and sighed with relief.
"Hello Duke," she said gently, grimacing at the cold fur that was caked with mud. "Do you know where Daniel is?"
At that name he lifted his head, swallowed and stared at her a moment. His eyes were sad.
"Are you Daniel's friend?" she asked. "Show me where your food is?"
As if understanding her, he turned and gently nosed the cabinet beneath, which she opened to the sound of his licking his chops. Touching a bag, she pulled it out and smiled. Measuring out a cup of dry kibble into his empty bowel, she watched him gobble it down with zeal. Once he was finished, she patted his head and reached for the dishtowel to dry his fur as much as she could. He flattened himself onto the floor, lowering his head between his front paws with a tired sigh.
"Where is Daniel, boy? Where is my brother?" she asked softly, drying him with the towel. "I bet you know…" To her regret he whined softly.
"Is he still outside somewhere?"she worried, and to her surprise he gathered his strength, got up and trotted back toward the steel door. Following him, she unlocked it again and felt around for a switch as he reentered the room. Flicking the lights on, she gasped at the sight of the room which was lined with shelves of supplies on one side and a greenhouse on the other. At the far end stood a similar door, its lower half boasting a heavy rubber flap where Duke must have come in.
Passing by the rows of seedlings without more than a glance at the jars, canned goods and containers of grains she worried that her brother was still outside. Unbolting the door, she opened it and peered out, gripping his shirt tighter around her in the cold night air.
"Daniel?" she hissed, peering into the blackness as Duke pressed against her leg. Listening intently, she waited but heard nothing. Duke bumped the back of her leg and she looked down into his tortured expression. He whined softly, looked out, then slowly turned and went back across the room. It was then that she knew her brother wasn't coming back.
Stifling a cry of grief, she locked the door and followed Duke back down the hall. He ate the rest of his food, then loped toward the fireplace, where Jim had started a fire for them. Circling and lowering himself to the rug he glanced at her and then stared into the flames with a sigh. She went to him and bent to gently stroke his head.
"Poor boy…I miss him too," she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "When it's light maybe you can show me where you were?"
He sighed again, resting his head upon his paws. She glanced toward the bedroom where Samuel slept on, hearing his soft breathing. "I'm Amy, Daniel's sister…that's Samuel, my son. You're a good boy, Duke. We'll take care of you now, too."
Slowly rising, she went into the bedroom, Duke's eyes following her retreat. She stretched out onto the bed, not at all surprised when he rose up and wandered in, sniffing and then finally settling at the foot of the bed. She wept soundlessly for a while before finally falling back to sleep.
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