Shoreline Page 13

“Well, they have a mission, right?” the councilwoman said.

  “What have you figured out?” Nora asked.

  “Nothing new,” she replied. “Just that the woods are full of angry ‘patriots’ who somehow believe that their patriotism gives them license to overthrow the government and take as many non-whites with them as possible.”

  “No, it’s new, I’m sorry. They are killing mercilessly, indiscriminately. Kids, women. It’s mind-boggling. Unprecedented,” Nora insisted.

  “Sorry, how is that different from shooting up black churches?” Lewis demanded. “Because it happened on the same day?”

  “Well, yes…” Pete began.

  Nora added, “And it’s all so brazen. They don’t care if you see their faces.”

  “Yes,” April Lewis replied quietly. “They don’t care if you identify them and they aren’t afraid to die. Once it gets quiet in here at night you’ll be able to hear some of their propaganda; it’s coming out of the TVs they have around. It’s very deliberate and very scary. I’m starting to worry about the black threat and I’ve only been here a day.”

  Pete looked around. “Do you have any idea about their numbers?”

  She shook her head. “No. I think they really can’t do too many training drills; that kind of noise carries. I’m pretty sure they’ve got us out in vineyard country—it’s the only way they could keep this many people around in broad daylight. No neighbors, right? But still.”

  Nora and Pete considered this.

  April Lewis went on, “This barn seems to be like a bunk house, you know? A lot of people walking back and forth.” As though for emphasis, the ceiling overhead creaked loudly with footsteps. “I didn’t see anyone but the guards at the door. There was a rotation of three of them.”

  “No clues about who’s behind all this?” Pete asked.

  She shook her head. “You think there’s just one person?”

  Pete shrugged. “There’s a man named Gabriel Baker. He’s been sending out webcasts. I think it’s his voice on the videos here.…”

  Nora held up a hand, listening.

  Today we are fighting for our lives, for our rights, for the rights of white children everywhere to grow up away from the onslaught of cultural assault. Fight against white genocide, fight with all that you possess! Together, we can make America great again.

  “Definitely Baker,” she said.

  “Our analysts think they have some clues about the person responsible. A certain profile, you know? But not typical racist redneck.”

  “No, it couldn’t be, could it?” April Lewis mused.

  “Seems to be trying to appeal to all possible constituencies in order to launch these massive efforts,” Pete offered.

  “As a politician, I get that,” Lewis said. “Still, it doesn’t really bode well for us, does it?”

  Nora was looking around their stall. “Not even a little,” she confirmed. “We have to figure out how to get out of here.”

  April Lewis emitted a sigh. “I’ve been trying to think that through. It’s impossible.”

  “Why impossible?” Pete asked.

  “Well, there’s like fifty heavily armed, angry white folks outside. And we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere,” she retorted. “Just getting outside of this stall is impossible. It’s bolted from the outside and the giant man outside is holding a rifle.”

  “What about going to the bathroom?” asked Nora, who was desperate to pee at this point.

  The councilwoman gestured with her head toward the corner of the stall. “They leave a bucket. They don’t want to take any risks.”

  Pete looked her over. “At least your arms aren’t cinched behind you. You can unzip your pants.”

  She gave him a once-over. “I’ll unzip your pants for you, baby.” April Lewis grinned.

  Nora smiled, grateful for the tension-reliever. “They know we’re a threat, Pete. Trained law enforcement.”

  “Well. We are.” Pete rose with a soft groan and limped into the corner of the stall to look at the bucket. It was a large metal bucket, suitable for hauling ashes from a fireplace. Then he returned and bent over, peering closely at the flooring. The boards were about four inches wide. “What’s under here?”

  April Lewis looked at him blankly. “What’s under the floor?”

  “Have you seen light coming up from here, or heard any noises? Is it a basement or a crawlspace?”

  She shook her head. “I haven’t heard any noise. Crickets maybe. Frog or two. No light.”

  He squinted hard at the floor and then returned to the bucket. “Please come help me, Ms. Lewis.”

  A disgusted frown contorted April Lewis’s features. “I’m pretty sure I explained what that bucket was for,” she said as a disclaimer.

  “Yes, I heard you.” Pete’s face was impassive. “I want you to try to unhook this handle.”

  She looked at him, then began attempting to do so. When she struggled, he gave his back to the bucket and clutched the sides with his hands, attempting to hold it tightly despite the cable tie cinching his wrists.

  April Lewis pushed and wrangled, finally squeezing the arc of the handle until she could jimmy one end out of the bucket’s eye. Success on one side made the other side easier.

  “Okay,” Pete said. “If you can, try to shove it down between these two floorboards and then we can work together to wedge one of them up.”

  She looked at him skeptically.

  He asked, “You got some other idea?”

  She shrugged.

  Pete crawled on his knees across the limited available space until he found the two boards separated by the widest gap. He indicated the gap with a nod of his head. “Here.”

  April Lewis came to kneel next to him. Then she started attempting to shove the bucket handle down between the floorboards. The gap wasn’t big, but she could just slide the metal between the two boards.

  “If we’re lucky,” Pete said, “the hooked end of the handle will catch on a nail and we can pull it up.”

  April Lewis frowned, working intently.

  After a few minutes, Pete began to grow nervous. Nora knew that neither of them could do this task with their wrists cinched behind them. Quietly she asked, “When was the last time someone came in?”

  “Before you were shoved in here?” The councilwoman was grimacing as she concentrated. “I don’t know, twenty minutes maybe.”

  “Did they feed you today?” she asked.

  April Lewis nodded. “Yes, earlier.”

  “Do they bring utensils? A knife maybe?” Pete asked.

  She shook her head. “No need. Finger food. Nothing hard, metal, or jagged necessary.”

  “Okay, then,” Pete said with resolve. “Then this is actually our only shot. So take all the time you need.”

  She grew increasingly frustrated, and Nora, subjected to the drone of the television in the hall, became increasingly unnerved. After some fifteen minutes, in which even in the dimness Nora could see sweat streaming from April’s face with the effort, the hooked end of the handle caught on a nail from the underside of the floorboard.

  “Okay, hold it for me and put it in my hands,” Pete said.

  The councilwoman placed the wire in his hands and he closed them as tightly as he could and began to tug. The task was unwieldy. Pete refused, however, to accept defeat. He pulled, repositioning himself several times until the small gap began to widen.

  It continued to widen, until April Lewis said, “Enough. Let me try.”

  She inserted her fingers and pulled. The wood groaned slightly as it moved.

  “Cough,” Pete instructed Nora, who obediently began to cough as April pulled harder on the board. After a few fits of pulling and coughing, the board popped free.

  “Yesss,” April Lewis said. “Now what, FBI guy?”

  “Now we use those nails to puncture these cable ties,” he said, indicating the underside of the board and the nails poking out of it.

  “Who’s we?” Lewis deman
ded.

  “You just have to keep us from impaling ourselves.”

  Nora asked, “Then what, Pete?”

  “You should go first, anyway. If we can pull up a couple more of those boards you can squeeze down there and crawl out.”

  Nora eyed the five inches of inky blackness they had exposed. “And do what?”

  “Umm, get help, obviously.”

  “You did hear the councilwoman? Angry white folks. Weapons.”

  “It’s dark. They won’t expect anyone to bust out so fast. Get to the beach and run west until you get to a phone. Get help.”

  “Run west,” Nora repeated. “Peter, we rode in a boat for over an hour.”

  “I didn’t say it would be easy,” Pete said. “But as previously noted, you are wearing your super shoes.”

  Nora shook her head at him.

  “Couldn’t she just steal the boat?” April Lewis asked.

  Pete scoffed. “That boat will have to be under constant surveillance. Soon as it’s rough enough they will have to fold up that dock or lose it. They’ll have to send the boat back where it came, probably, no matter how rough it is. Their entrance off the main road will be too tightly guarded to get by, I guarantee it.” He looked long and hard at Nora. “Run along the beach til you’re well beyond all this. It’s the only choice.”

  Nora sighed. “You scare me when you don’t get enough sleep, man.”

  That was the assent he needed. He swiveled his head toward April. “Ms. Lewis. Can you help position that nail for Nora?”

  She knelt behind Nora and looked doubtfully from the tip of the nail to the thin hard plastic of the cable tie. “I see tetanus in your future, honey,” she murmured.

  “It’s okay,” Nora said. “I’m actually still wearing Kevlar under my blouse, so even if you ram me with it, I’ll be fine.”

  “So your back is covered, great, but your pretty little wrists here…”

  Pete said, and his anxiety was starting to color his tone, “Nora’s tough, don’t you worry. Time is short though.”

  Ms. Lewis harrumphed. “Alright, but come over in this tiny bit of light. I don’t have my reading glasses, you know. I need all the help I can get.”

  Nora complied, and the councilwoman had her lean backward over the board with its exposed nails. The work was slow going. Nora’s injured wrist blazed with pain as the cable tie was pulled more tightly while Ms. Lewis worked. The nail kept sliding across the slick plastic. The board was wide and difficult to work with. Getting punctured with a nail was less problematic than the splinters Nora was getting as the board slipped and slid over her wrists and arms. Ms. Lewis kept apologizing softly and Nora kept murmuring absolution. Pete said, “Scrape it up a little with the nail and it’ll be easier.”

  So the councilwoman scraped at the plastic and then returned to attempting to puncture the cable tie. Finally she said, “There’s only a tiny bit to go. Can you twist your wrists and pull it apart?”

  Nora did so and the cable tie broke at last. She rubbed at her wrists in relief, and then went ahead and hugged the woman. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you so much.”

  “Just put that freedom to good use, baby.”

  Nora nodded. “Let me get you, Pete,” she said.

  “No way,” he answered. “There’s not enough time. Work with Ms. Lewis to get two more boards up and then get the hell out of here.”

  The two complied. The sound was disconcertingly loud, but Nora realized that the propaganda spinning through the hallways was actually doing them tremendous favors. Her coughing didn’t hurt either.

  At last she was looking at a big enough hole to shimmy down into the crawlspace. She tentatively stretched her leg to see how far down it went, but she quickly found the ground and that the hole was only thigh high.

  “West, huh?”

  Pete looked at her, his eyes full of concern. “I swear I would do it, Nora. I’m so pissed about my foot right now.”

  “I believe you, Mr. Quarterback. Mr. Gallant Southern Quarterback guy.”

  “Umm, Mr. Gallant Southern Quarterback…” Ms. Lewis began.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  “What if there’s no vent down there she can exit out of?”

  Pete looked at Nora, and she could tell by the resolve in his gaze that he was refusing to accept that possibility. “Find the vent that lets in the outside air and you’ll be fine. If you can’t find it, come back. No harm, no foul.”

  “What if I’m too big to get out of it?”

  “You will think of something, Nora. Too much is riding on this.”

  She nodded. The pressure felt enormous, stifling.

  Pete continued, “You need to get Schacht to call in an airstrike on this place, do you hear me?” he said fiercely.

  “Hey, I heard you and I didn’t like what I heard,” April Lewis interjected.

  “You make sure Ms. Lewis is safe,” Nora replied, acknowledging and ignoring her in one swoop. “I’m going to do everything I can to get them back here by morning. Maybe we can head off the Second Day.”

  “You better be a hell of a runner,” the councilwoman said.

  Nora and Pete exchanged slow, tired smiles. “I’m alright,” Nora said.

  Pete was nodding. “She’s alright.”

  “Not so good with bugs, though,” Nora said, positioning herself over the crawlspace.

  “Aren’t there scorpions and scarabs and shit in Egypt? This is nothing, girl,” Pete said.

  “I’m from Philadelphia. I don’t do nature.”

  Pete smiled reassuringly. “You’ll be fine. But Nora…” His expression became dead serious. “Every single person you encounter will be heavily armed. There’ll be surveillance cameras everywhere. Don’t use the beach stairs, they’ll be monitored—go over the bank on foot, even if you have to take an hour to make it down to the water.”

  Nora listened intently, nodding as he spoke. She looked up at him, feeling desperately scared.

  He held her eyes. “Go.”

  April Lewis leaned over and kissed Nora’s cheek. “Be safe, baby,” she said.

  Nora took a long breath, nodded again, and sank down through the floor and onto her knees.

  “Nora,” Pete called softly as she started to move.

  “Yes, Pete?”

  “Tell the Starbucks wench I love her.”

  “No you don’t, Peter. The crisis scenario is messing with your brain.”

  He seemed to be considering this.

  Then he said, “Well tell her I want her really bad, then.”

  “Badly,” April Lewis corrected.

  “I’m going to introduce you to my violinist neighbor Rachel,” Nora whispered.

  “Is she hot?” Pete asked.

  Nora sighed and looked at April Lewis.

  “Get outta here,” Ms. Lewis said with a wink. “I’ll deal with this one.”

  * * *

  There were indeed bugs. Even before Pete and Ms. Lewis began tapping the floorboards back into place, Nora realized that she could see absolutely nothing and had to feel around with her hands in the dark to find the outer limits of the crawlspace. Each time she felt about with her hand, it seemed to her that she touched something crawling. The entirety of her self-discipline had to be summoned to prevent herself from screaming.

  They hadn’t been too far from the north wall of the barn and so she headed that way and soon found the gritty cement wall.

  Was there even a ventilation grill? She wished she’d brought one of the nails, anything sharp, anything reassuring. She hated feeling so powerless. Phoneless, gunless. Hungry as hell. And she had to pee so bad. Badly, she whispered to herself.

  The floor overhead creaked as people walked over it. Nora felt like she could barely breathe in the hot, enclosed space and the pitch blackness. Her hands were patting along the side of the wall until she realized that a small pool of light was leaking in, just a few hundred feet down. The outside lighting at the barn’s entrance was making i
t into the crawlspace through what had to be the ventilation grill.

  She reached it quickly and began feeling around its edges. It was just about as broad as her shoulders. Pete wouldn’t have made it through, even had his foot been in any shape to carry him. She crouched for perhaps far more moments than she had, peering out to see if anyone was passing by. She watched as the light from the big house’s windows fell across a small cluster of women. But they walked past it, continuing out of Nora’s line of vision.

  She sighed and began trying to coax the grill out of the wall. The screws required more time than she felt she had, however, and she ended up with bleeding fingertips. When she had finally pulled the grill away, she attempted at first to scramble up and out. She immediately realized that the Kevlar was making her bulkier than normal.

  She dropped back onto the ground and unbuttoned her blouse with trembling fingers, then shed the vest and dressed again. She looked at the vest for a moment.

  I’m going to get shot at. I’m about to seriously get shot at.

  She heard her father’s voice in her head, swearing in Arabic. “Zift.”

  She sighed and shoved the vest through the opening and then followed it out. She lay on the ground for a moment, then slid the vest back on over her blouse. She watched as the vest rose and fell with her rapid breathing. Calm down, sister. Just take it easy. We have a long, long way to go yet. She thought about abandoning her navy blazer, but realized that her white shirtsleeves would be a liability if she were trying to fade into the darkness.

  Just to the left, the barn door suddenly slid open, spilling a huge swath of light across the grass just beyond where she lay. Nora tensed and huddled into as small a ball as possible.

  “… Baker said we have to do things in order, that’s all I’m saying.”

  “People are starting to get restless, though,” came the response.

  “Well, all I know is we don’t do anything not on the list.”

  “Well, it should be on the list,” the other voice insisted grumpily.

  Nora’s heart thumped in a way that struck her as perilously loud. Some sort of spider ambled over her hand and she had to resist shrieking. Just as quickly as the two men had emerged, though, the barn door slid back into place, the noise covering the remainder of their exchange.