The long way back, p.28
The Long Way Back, page 28
“Where does Eva fit in?” Charlie can hardly get the words out.
“We’re not sure yet, but obviously Zechariah is his son.” Jude locates another picture and passes it to Eva. Pointing to a young man at the edge of the photograph, he says, “Fifth of eleven children. The four older brothers are all married and seem to have taken on roles in their father’s empire. Social media, podcasting, public speaking and the like. Zechariah kind of slipped below the radar. We didn’t really know what became of him.”
“And, frankly, didn’t much care,” Dan says. “Keeping tabs on the rest of the Brennans keeps us busy enough.”
“Does any of this mean anything to you?” Jude studies Charlie carefully. “Have you ever met the Brennans or had any interactions with them online? We’re looking for anything—any connection, no matter how small, matters.”
Charlie’s head is spinning, and though she hasn’t eaten anything for hours, her stomach churns as if she might throw up. “I don’t think so,” she says slowly.
Even on the road, she and Eva weren’t isolated from the headlines. They knew about the mass shootings, the protests and counterprotests, the racially motivated violence, and political posturing. On a literal mountaintop it was easy to believe that this country they loved was as sublime as the view before them. But coming back down always meant a return to the real world. Crime and overdoses and screaming pundits, yes, but also quiet inequalities and generational wounds and living paycheck to paycheck. There was so much hurt. But the Brennan family doesn’t sound familiar to her at all.
“The Brennans flirt with violence,” Jude continues, his voice softer now, as if he realizes how hard this is to hear. “They’re big supporters of extreme gun rights and use a lot of charged language in their propaganda, encouraging their followers to commit acts of violence, but then asserting that they didn’t actually mean what they said or wrote.”
“They mean it. Every time.” Dan’s jaw is a rigid, angry line. “They don’t even bother with the subtlety of dog whistles.”
“Eva wouldn’t willingly be a part of anything like this. Did he kidnap her?”
Jude sighs, closing the file with a snap. “We don’t know. But we recognized Zechariah in the door cam footage from yesterday, and the message you received this morning confirms it. It certainly looks like Zechariah—Zach—is Eva’s boyfriend. And that changes everything.”
“Why?” Charlie slides to the edge of her chair, imploring Jude and Dan to see things the way she suddenly does. “If you know who he is, you know where he lives. Let’s go get her. She must be with him. We can just go to his house and—”
“It’s not that simple.” Jude looks pained. “The Brennans have several properties and shell companies that hide the money they take in from contributions.”
“Contributions? From whom? To what?”
“To their cause. People are more than happy to support them. We can only guess at both their net worth and where they’ve set up home base.”
“They’re training for civil war,” Dan says, and Jude shoots him a look that could kill.
“War?”
“Something is going on,” Jude admits. “There’s been chatter for weeks, and our intel points to… something.”
He’s sparing her, trying not to scare her too much with what he knows, but somehow that’s even worse. Charlie pictures every worst-case scenario. “Like what? A bomb? A mass shooting?” she asks.
“A major domestic terrorist event,” Dan confirms. “Thing is, we’re not just facing one threat. Our surveillance suggests—”
“We need to find Eva,” Jude interrupts, cutting a sharp look Dan’s way.
Horror rakes across Charlie’s heart, leaving deep wounds in its wake. “Eva would never,” she whispers, trying to make them understand.
But Jude is already shaking his head. “We don’t think Eva is an accomplice, Charlie. We think she’s a victim. But if she’s associated with Zechariah Brennan in any way, she’s in trouble.”
“We have to find her.”
“That’s exactly what we’re trying to do.” Jude scoops up the file and taps the edge against the table authoritatively. “We’re thankful for your help and for sharing the message. Dan will be able to glean a lot of useful information from it, I’m sure.”
At this, Dan snorts a short laugh and salutes.
“I’d like to put a temporary tap on your phone so we can listen in if Zechariah calls back.” Jude stands, and Charlie gets the impression that he’s getting ready to dismiss her. A quick phone tap and she’ll be gone.
“I don’t want to get in the way,” Charlie says, quickly rising so she can look him in the eye. “But you can’t just send me home. Not after this. Not when I know what I know. Is something happening now? Is that why you—”
The trill of her phone—which is set to ring just like an old rotary—stops Charlie cold. It’s buzzing in her pocket, against her hip, and her trembling hands can’t dig it out fast enough.
“Quiet!” Jude shouts, raising his hands and waving frantically at Charlie’s phone. The sound in the room stops as cleanly as if a cord has been cut, and in the ensuing hush the ringtone is shrill and insistent. To Charlie, Jude says, “Answer it and put it on speakerphone. Lay it faceup on the table in front of Dan.”
She nods, sinking shakily into the chair that he pulls out for her. Then Jude presses a finger to his lips for the rest of the room before giving Charlie a look that says now.
It’s the same number. She knows the second she looks at the caller ID. Hope coils around her, fragile as a plume of smoke, as Charlie taps accept and says, “Hello?”
“Is this Eva’s mom?”
It’s not the voice they were expecting. It’s not a man.
“Yes,” Charlie manages, disappointed. “Who’s this?”
“It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t be calling you, but Eva’s in danger. I can’t just let her die. I mean, she didn’t do anything. Not really.”
The girl is sniffling softly—crying, Charlie thinks—but that doesn’t matter at all. Charlie is hung up on one word: die.
It’s like a siren is building in her body, a scream that will erupt and echo across the lake, but Jude grabs her by the shoulders and gives her a shake. She meets his gaze, the warm, brown intensity of his eyes, and reads what’s written there. She clings to him like an anchor in a gale. Be calm, he seems to communicate. And it’s okay and you can do this. You have to do this. So Charlie swallows the unholy shriek and wrestles her terror into submission.
“Where is she?” Charlie croaks. Perhaps she should say “thank you” or try to get the girl to stay on the line and keep talking, but everything boils down to this one essential question: Where is Eva? Charlie can’t think of anything beyond simply this.
A long silence stretches thin across the phone line. The girl is still there, she hasn’t disconnected the call, but Charlie is petrified that she will. After several taut moments, she opens her mouth to beg the disembodied voice, to argue and bellow and fight, but there’s a sudden, feverish gasp of air on the other end.
And then, in one rushed breath: “Bayfront Festival Park. In Duluth. But you’d better hurry.”
WELCOME TO THE DIVERSITY EMPLOYMENT FAIR!
Duluth is excited to host the region’s first-ever diversity employment fair designed to provide employers and recruiters with qualified professionals from a variety of experiences and backgrounds. Our mission is to connect businesses with skilled workers who will reflect the communities they serve and provide immeasurable benefits to the organizations they represent. This is a prime opportunity for prospective employees and potential interns to meet with nearly fifty area businesses in a variety of industries including science, consulting, financial services, technology, nonprofit, manufacturing, healthcare, transportation, and more. Recent high school and college graduates welcome, as well as seniors, women, minorities, persons with disabilities, and members of our LGBTQ and immigrant communities. Join us for this premier opportunity as we seek to enrich our job sector and our region.
*A variety of food truck and local vendors will ring the park, with businesses and organizations set up in the center.
CHAPTER 22
EVA
TUESDAY
Eva is sandwiched between Abner and a paunchy, middle-aged man he calls Buzz in the cab of a nondescript white van. Abner is in the driver’s seat, Buzz up against the passenger door, and Eva is pressed hip to hip with two men who give her full body chills. The air is close and sickly sweet with the scent of sweat and fear, and the radio is tuned to a fuzzy AM station that alternates between classic country music and a predawn talk show. The host likes the sound of his own voice and laughs uproariously at his own jokes. Not that Eva can make out a single word he’s saying over the rumble of her heart. It’s drumming so hard and so fast the beats seem to overlap one another.
When Rachel screamed for Abner outside the shed several hours ago, he materialized almost instantly. It was as if he had been waiting in the shadows for just such an event. Was Eva that obvious? Were her intentions so easy to read?
At first, Eva had been sure that she’d get away with a slap on the wrist. The spoon would be confiscated, and Rachel would be instructed to be more careful with her charge. Maybe a guard would be stationed outside the shed door. But Abner’s slow smile, the way his teeth glowed suddenly bright in the soft moonlight, wasn’t kind. It was mercenary.
“I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, Evangeline, but I’m afraid I don’t have the time or the patience to reform you. You are now a liability.” Abner dipped his chin in a show of paternal disappointment, the universal gesture of “this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you.”
Eva doubted that sincerely.
“What are you going to do with her?” Rachel asked, her voice hoarse and rimmed with urgency.
“Never mind, Rachel.” Abner dismissed his daughter without so much as a glance in her direction. “Eva, come with me.”
His hand fell heavily on her shoulder, his meaty thumb digging into the soft dip below her collarbone. It would leave a bruise, but Eva didn’t so much as squeak. She didn’t dare to. Something had changed in Abner. There was purpose to his every movement, a serious zeal that poisoned the air around him.
As they rounded the corner of the shed it became apparent why Abner had been so quick to appear. The column of vehicles was long gone, but there were three more parked where the driveway curved down to the barracks at the back of the compound: the black SUV that Abner had used to collect her and Zach from the cottage in Little Moose, a silver truck, and a white utility van. The van was old and faded and looked like the kind of vehicle used for deliveries. Besides the cab, there were no other windows, and the double-wide cargo doors at the very back were chained and padlocked shut. A small, seemingly select group of men surrounded the trio of vehicles.
“You’re taking her with you?” Rachel jogged to keep up with Abner’s swift pace. “B-but I thought she was supposed to stay here. Why—”
When Abner spun on Rachel, he dragged Eva painfully with him. She was left tilted and aching as he clenched her shoulder even tighter, his fingers curled like claws. “How dare you question me,” he said, his tone low and dangerous. “My own daughter.”
Rachel looked as if she’d been slapped, and Eva flinched, waiting for Abner to raise his hand and follow through. She’d seen him do it before. But from somewhere behind him one of the men cleared his throat.
“Abner, we’re late,” he said, his voice spectral in the darkness. It was impossible to know who spoke or how Abner would respond to the light rebuke.
Eva steeled herself for his rage, but instead Abner’s grip loosened a little. “Go to bed, Rachel,” he said, those four simple words infused with an absolute power that brooked no argument.
Rachel caught Eva’s gaze, her eyes desperate and her cheeks glistening in the moonlight. Was she crying?
If Eva had felt fear before, it was nothing compared to what overwhelmed her when Rachel spun on her heel and ran back to the house. Her legs gave out entirely. But Abner must have felt her falling, because he swept an arm around her waist and then picked her up as if she weighed nothing at all.
“She’s coming with us?” a man questioned from somewhere behind them. But Abner didn’t even bother to answer. He just wrenched open the driver’s-side door of the van and thrust Eva inside.
They drove for hours. There had been frequent pit stops along the route, winding roads that led to small clearings or old homesteads that looked abandoned. At every one, Abner and Buzz left Eva in the cab of the van, her hands lashed to the steering wheel with zip ties. One sojourn was nearly two hours, and Eva fell into an exhausted, fidgety sleep with her head lolling against the back of the seat. She woke when she lost all feeling in her hands and her neck was so stiff it burned.
Now, the sun is a lump of glowing coal that hovers just above the horizon line, and Eva can recognize the familiar backroads of the area surrounding Landing. Her proximity to home draws a soft moan from her lips, and Abner shoots her a warning look. He and Buzz have more or less ignored her throughout the entire trip, and Eva suspects it’s because they don’t want to be reminded of the fact that she’s a seventeen-year-old who doesn’t deserve whatever it is they have planned for her. Because it can’t be anything good, can it? Abner called her a liability. And what do you do with liabilities? You eliminate them.
“Where are you taking me?” Eva finally asks, her voice scratchy.
It seems Abner’s heard her, though, because he responds, “It doesn’t much matter, does it? Knowing won’t change anything.”
“Abner,” Buzz says slowly, looking over Eva’s bowed head, “maybe we could let the kid go.”
“I thought I made myself clear.”
Although the cab is stuffy, the atmosphere suddenly crackles with ice. It’s obvious to Eva that this is the continuation of a conversation that’s been going on for some time. It appears as if Buzz has been advocating for her. Why? She sneaks a glance at his face in profile and wonders. Is he a father? A grandfather? Maybe he’s having second thoughts about harming an innocent teenager. Eva hopes so, but it’s clear Abner will hear none of it. The realization extinguishes whatever scrap of hope Eva’s been clinging to. Abner is cold and rigid beside her. He will not change his mind.
“I just want to know,” Eva presses. If they’ve already decided that they’re going to hurt her—to kill her?—things can’t get any worse, so Eva isn’t afraid of pushing. She feels hollow, scraped raw, but she says, “We’re headed south. Toward Duluth? Are we meeting someone there?”
He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, seemingly impressed by her moxie, by the fact that she dares to even speak to him. It isn’t lost on Eva that just hours ago Abner shut down his own daughter with a few forbidding words. But Rachel cares about his opinion of her. Eva has nothing to lose.
“I guess you could say we’re meeting a lot of people in Duluth,” Abner offers, humoring her. “And confronting some idolatrous systems that prop up wickedness in our world.”
“Abner,” Buzz warns, but the name on his lips is gentle, almost affectionate. “She won’t understand.”
“Maybe she doesn’t need to. Maybe it’s enough to know that she is a part of bringing about a new world order.” Abner puts his hand just above Eva’s knee and gives her thigh a little squeeze through her dirty dress. “You, my dear, won’t even be a footnote in the history books, but I will know that you were there when retributive justice rained down. There’s something poetic about that.”
Eva can’t help it, she jerks away from him so hard that the van lurches. But there’s nowhere for her to go. Buzz is a brick wall on her right side, and Abner is now fuming on her other. His fist snaps out and grabs a handful of her tangled hair, dragging her head close to his.
“Don’t fight me, little girl.” Abner’s breath is hot and putrid on her cheek. “I can make this very, very hard on you.” His fist tightens, ripping hair from her scalp until her eyes water, and then he thrusts her away. Buzz is quiet and still on Eva’s other side, but he doesn’t give her even a glimmer of compassion. He looks pointedly out the window while she wipes silent tears.
A half hour from Duluth, Abner makes one last stop. This time he leaves the van running, and when the silver truck and black SUV pull up beside him, he doesn’t even bother to close the van door while he talks with the other men. All the engines are running, and Eva can’t make out what they’re saying, but the occasional word lifts on the breeze and floats into the cab.
digital
delayed
ignition
The men look at their watches while someone stares at the screen of a cell phone and counts down from five. Then they all press a button at the same time, nod, and walk to the back of the van. There’s a long, metallic scrape, and the whole vehicle sways. They’ve unlocked the padlock and opened the cargo doors for the first time on their entire journey, and as someone riffles around in the hold, Eva realizes that she knows what’s back there.
Deep down, she’s known all along.
* * *
The clock on the dashboard says nine-twenty-nine when they pull off I-35 and turn onto West Railroad Street. Eva knows this area like the back of her hand: the bustle of South Lake Avenue and the inexorable draw of the Aerial Lift bridge, the beach on the far side of the canal where Charlie and Scout like to wade out far from shore on those rare, scorching summer days. She knows where to get the best ice cream, and she and Charlie once did an Eva Explores event at the outdoors store where over two hundred people showed up and crowded every aisle of the quaint space. This is home to Eva, and she feels a sinking, swamp-like dread when Abner drives past the convention center and the road to the aquarium.
The traffic is unexpectedly thick, and if Eva cranes her neck she can see that something is happening at the Bayfront Festival Park. There are hundreds (thousands?) of people out enjoying the beautiful morning, and the entire area is giving off a joyful, almost celebratory vibe. It’s a Tuesday in late May, far too early for a concert or festival, but as Abner continues to roll closer to the venue, a sign comes into view:
