Chapter 19
“Shut up! Get in there!”
Derek was shoved into a room as dark and moldy as a dungeon. He stood still, listening as the door was pulled shut behind him and the lock turned. It sounded like a simple button lock but then he cringed as he heard the heavy wooden bolt being pulled down in front of it.
“Who’s there?” came a hoarse weak voice from a corner of the darkness.
“Mara? Is that you?”
Her response was a dry cough with a wheezing sound, “Derek?” she said finally, her voice was raw and very uncomfortable to listen to.
“There’s a light switch somewhere about, if you’re up to it,” she said in between hoarse gasps.
Derek turned and felt along the wall from the door frame to the far end and back again down the other side until his hands brushed it.
“Here it is,” he said excitedly and flicked it on.
A dull light enveloped the darkness, it wasn’t much but it was quite brilliant in comparison to the pitch blackness. Once Derek’s eyes adjusted – it didn’t take long to – he found Mara hunched in a corner, her head was wrapped in her lime green blouse, which no longer showed the rich material that she no doubt spent a fortune on, instead it was dirty and grungy looking, but apparently it made a very effective turban. Her white undershirt was ripped right down the middle revealing her brassiere and the pale skin of her chest.
Derek rushed toward her; she looked like a homeless sheik, minus the beard of course, “oh my God, what did they do to you? And what’s with the head piece?” he asked as he lowered himself unto the cot beside her.
She shook her head, her face pale and drawn, and lifted shaky hands to her head to settle the Arab-like head piece.
“I’m fine, I uh had my hair coloured just before they took me… I’m only preserving it” she rolled her eyes and leaned back against the wall with a throaty groan, “am just so hungry…” she said through parched lips, “and tired and…” she lifted an empty bottle and stared at it longingly, “and so thirsty.”
Derek shot to his feet, snatching the bottle from her hand. He marched to the door and started pounding on it with all his might.
“Hey, open this door!” he yelled, his angry pounding echoed throughout the room.
“Waddya want?” came an annoyed voice.
“I need some water and some food in here!”
After a moment – long enough to worry Derek that he might actually be ignored – the door was opened and a plate with a bottle of water was tossed in with a clang.
“Wait,” said Derek and he shoved the other bottle out, “there’s two of us in here, and we’re paying for our release.”
The man took the empty bottle from him and chuckled, “Her husband is paying for her release, I ain’t been told nothing ‘bout you.”
Derek turned back to Mara and tried to smile, “it’ll be alright.”
He went over to her and handed her the bottle. He watched as she drank it down thirstily, her frail hands shaking under the weight of it.
“You can stop pretending to care Derek, I know you hate me as equally as Brad… and I don’t blame you either.”
Derek frowned at her, “stop that. We don’t hate you Mara, we just misunderstood… a lot. You’re my best friend’s wife I’m supposed to be harsh on you,” he said with a smile.
He removed his coat and draped it over her shoulders, it was probably stained with his blood and perspiration but it was definitely better than what she wore. Then he drew his arm around her, trying to rub his warmth into her chilled bones.
“We’ll get outta here, Brad and Anna will see to that.”
Mara stiffened and he looked down at her with a frown.
“Don’t say that name in here,” she said, “I have enough to deal with without thinking of her and my husband together.”
Derek pursed his lips, despite what he was about to say he felt just as wary himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Anna he just didn’t trust that part of her that she was ignorant of, the part that he knew still loved Brad
“It’s alright Mara, Anna’s a great person. You’ll get to meet her and you’ll see. Yeah so she has a past with Brad, it bugs me sometimes too but…”
She looked up at him with a frown, “Oh my! You and…no way. How did..? Is she your…”
Derek chuckled, “We’re kind of… uh we tried dating. I’m madly in love with the woman but she’s not giving me much to go on. I’m not sure how she feels.”
He had no idea why he was telling all this to Mara. This only made him think of how right Anna might’ve been about him. Maybe he was as fickle as she’d said, as he sat beside Mara warming her with his body and confessing all his deep dark fears and desires. A woman he’d once referred to as Jezebel; an evil manipulative queen in the book of kings who was tossed out of a window and eaten by dogs, now he considered it a very strong comparison to make.
He sighed, Anna was right then, despite the fact that he was a Christian he sure didn’t act like one at times, not with what he’d suggested to her on their first meeting, not with the way he’d backed up Brad’s hot headed decision to leave Mara even though it went against everything he believed in.
Maybe he really wasn’t over that hurt his mother exposed him to, maybe he hadn’t gotten over his distrust in women so much that it corrupted the elements of his faith that was essential to his ministry. Maybe that’s why he never could convince Brad that Jesus was the only way the truth and the life and all he could’ve given him was a bible that he’d never opened.
Maybe he was telling Mara all this because he knew she would understand. Mara smiled, it was a weak, half hearted smile, “I’m sorry I didn’t know she was your, you know… you must not like that I talk about her like that.”
Derek chuckled, “it’s alright,” he sighed and leaned back against the cold wall.
“Derek,” Mara whispered after a moment of eerie silence, “if you love her so much you’ve got to fight for her, women like that.”
He looked at her thoughtfully, “Is that what you wanted Brad to do? To fight for you?”
She nodded, smiling sadly, “always, but he always seemed to be to busy fighting against me. It just made sense to be mad at me than to face our problems.”
“hmm, faith and sacrifice is more a part of love than logic,” he said, remember Charlene’s parting words to him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mara asked, leaning her head on his shoulder wearily.
“I’m just figuring it out myself. But you’re right, I should fight for her, just like Brad should fight for you. They’ll get us out of here, I know it.”
Mara closed her eyes, “they better, I’m really beginning to get bored with this room.”
He chuckled, “you’re kidding!”
In that moment and particular place Derek and Mara shared something that no one would’ve imagined they would, considering their previous impressions of each other. It was an understanding, a mutual connection, not shared merely due to their coupled imprisonment but also in their taken for granted love.
It was pitch black. Two cars faced each other on the wet docks, as the rain drops carved out their shapes in the night, the only movement coming from their windshield wipers, audibly whipping the heavy droplets into the air.
Brad sat behind the wheel of a blue, Polo he’d rented, his keen gaze set on the car parked in front of him and the dark silhouette of two figures in the front seat. The tension was thick. He gripped the steering wheel with sweaty palms and took a deep breath, just as his cell phone lit up beside his leg. The incessant ring gnawed on his already raw nerves.
“Hello?”
“You’re punctual, that’s good,” came a low gravelly voice quite unlike the automated distortion on the video, it was cold and sinister now like an ice cold gust of wind, chilling to the bone.
“Do you have the money?”
“I do,” Brad replied.
There was a nerve wracking pause and for a moment Brad thought he’d been disconnected and his anxiety rose to its peak, breaking out in cold beads of sweat over his brows.
“Step out of the car with your hands where I can see ‘em, leave your headlights on so I can see the bag.”
Brad obeyed. He climbed out of the car, hands lifted before him, the bag of money dangling from one hand, his cell phone in the other and he stepped into the bright stream of light; squinting his eyes at the florescent brightness.
The door on the passenger’s side opened and a large man, with a diabolical smirk came out and opened a large black umbrella over his head. He stood next to the car for a moment, as though posing for the most terrifying figures spread in a fashion magazine, then he eased toward Brad.
“Toss over the bag,” he commanded.
Brad exhaled, blowing the running water from his lips as the rain pelted down on him, “not until I see my wife!” he countered.
There was a distracting moment when the large man didn’t respond, he just stood there looking like he’d just thought of something really funny, that only he would consider funny.
“Come with me,” he said.
Brad hesitated, “you have to show her to me, I need to know she’s okay.”
He chuckled, “either way you have to do as I say.”
Brad drew a shaky breath, he was soaked thoroughly now without even a sliver of warmth between his clothes. Whether he liked it or not his challenger was right, he couldn’t trust them but he couldn’t risk disobeying orders either, not when there were so many lives at stake.
“Okay,” he replied, “I’ll come.”
All he could think about was the God that was supposed to have his back, immediately he started to pray, Anna was right he needed God, he needed a miracle.
He sat back against the lumpy back seat of the Chevy, it smelled of Fabreeze, dirty shoes and Chinese food, he clutched the bag of what was supposed to be his hard earned money, the fruits of his sweat and sacrifice, to his soggy chest.
The large man was sitting next to him and he handed him a cell phone as they pulled out of the docks.
“No, no, where are we going? You didn’t say anything about going anywhere,” he protested.
His back seat buddy only jabbed the phone at him, his face stone cold. Brad swallowed hard and took it.
“Hello Brad,” a bleach blond Trent looked taunting up at him from the screen, a playful grin on his long bland face.
“By now you’re probably shaking with excitement,” he continued, “I know I am. My guys are taking you for a little ride and then we’ll finally get to meet… face to face.”
Brad glared at him, he looked and sounded like a washed up surfer, he had loser and degenerate stamped all over his smirking wart infested face.
“Who are you? Why are you doing this?”
His response was a maniacal high pitched laugh, “oh simply ‘cause it’s fun seeing you suits squirm under my strong arm of demand…” he paused and his expression grew dark, “or maybe I just hate you Brad Mason, I hate you so much…”
“You’re a demented man,” Brad sneered.
Trent glared at him, “yeah and I guess your fancy house and cars and all your accomplishments gives you the right to pass judgment on my life,” he reached down and yanked an angry Mara into the frame, he lifted a gun and pressed it to her temple.
“Mara!”
“Shut up!” Trent bellowed, “I have rights just like you Bradley,” he shook Mara and turned the gun, “see you on the other side.”
Brad stared at the blank screen, angry, frustrated tears stung his eyes and he balled his fist around the handle of the bag tightly, until the man yanked it from him. They were now pulling onto an airstrip and he looked over at Brad with a wicked grin.
“Hope you like flying.”
“What…”
Instantly a black wool bag was drawn over his head and he felt the impact of a punch smashing into his face, he swooned under the pain and sputtered as he tasted blood but he felt the large arm reaching for his money. He rose up on his elbow and started stomping mercilessly in the direction of his assailant, feeling his shoes connect with what felt like a chin, he screamed in triumph refusing to let up.
The large man recovered fast though and without much effort grabbed Brad’s jerking leg and turned it until it cracked loudly and he cried out in anguish.
“Son of a….”
The lounge was empty. Over the steady hum of the air conditioning unit all that could be heard were shuffling feet on the scuffed linoleum floor and the momentary flip of a page. Pacing from one end of the room to the other, breathing unsteadily and flushed with anxiety was Anna, she was clutching her cell phone like a life line.
“Come on now little lady, he’ll call soon enough,” assured the weather beaten cowboy in his western nasal drawl and he bent back to his paper. At the last minute Anna’s mother’s family had come through for her, one of her cousins had an old uncle who had a small plane. He’d called in a favour for her and the old man was more than willing to help out family, even a distant one like Anna.
Anna paused shook her head and opened the phone, frowning she started to pace again, “no he should’ve called by now, it’s been over thirty minutes.”
The old man set aside his paper and folded his arms over his chest, “then I reckon it’s about time we high tail it outta here,” he said.
She hesitated, “do you think he’s okay?”
He shrugged and got to his feet, “I ain’t really up to date with this whole thang and I don’t wanna be, but the man did say if he ain’t come back by half an hour we should get moving.”
Anna turned around to look out the window at the dark night, the rain had held up now but all she could see was the flashing light house and the lit up air strip. If they had Brad that could only mean one thing, the ball was in her court now, everyone was counting on her, it was a good thing she knew exactly who to count on. She closed her eyes and muttered a short prayer, took a deep breath and turned to the waiting pilot.
“You’re right; it is time we get out of here.”