Page 86 of Fallen

“I mainly just wanted to bring the doughnuts.” As nonchalantly as I can manage, I shove the baggie into my jacket pocket.

I meet Ben’s stare, force a smile. “If you like doughnuts, you’re in luck.”

“I like them just fine.”

He steps into the kitchen. He’s been working. Leather gloves in his left hand. A shovel in his right hand. Mud on his boots. Bits of hay stuck to his trousers.

“Now just look at all that mud you’ve tracked in,” Loretta says.

Ben says nothing. Continues to stare at me. The hairs prickle at my nape. I’m aware of my police radio clipped to my shirt. My .38 pressing against my hip. “I’ve got to get back to work,” I say.

The blow comes from behind. A clang! of steel above my ear. The force snaps my head sideways. A lightning strike of pain as my scalp splits open. Before I even realize I’m going to fall, my knees hit the floor.

I shake myself, glance right, see Loretta swing the cast-iron lid lifter. I block the blow with my forearm. The steel zings against bone. Another explosion of pain. The length of cast iron clatters to the floor between us.

I yank out the .38, bring it up. “Do not move! Get your hands up!”

I get one foot under me, lurch to my feet when another blow smashes against the back of my head. My vision narrows and dims. I swivel, catch a glimpse of Ben. Shovel at the ready. Lips peeled back. Teeth clenched.

I fire twice, the sound deafening in the confines of the kitchen. My timing is off, my balance skewed. I sway right. The shovel goes up again.

“Drop it!” I shout.

The steel spade crashes against my crown with the force of a freight train. Consciousness spirals down, water being sucked into a drain. The lights flicker. Then my cheek slams against the floor and the darkness welcomes me in.

CHAPTER 37

Spring 2009

For the first time in her life, Rachael Schwartz mourned the loss of her faith. Tonight, the darkest of nights, she needed the comfort of knowing she wasn’t going to die alone and in agony, and that she wasn’t the last person left on earth.

She should have been prepared. She’d known this moment would come. She and Loretta had discussed it. For months now, they’d planned everything down to the last detail. But Rachael had been in denial. She’d spent weeks ignoring the changes, hiding the weight gain and the swelling of her breasts. Not only from her parents, but from herself. She’d denied the cold, hard truth of what had happened.

Of course, Fate didn’t give a good damn if she was ready or not.

Pain screamed through her body. The power of it took her breath, frightened her. It shook her physically, emotionally. Rachael was no stranger to pain. She’d broken her arm when she was nine. Last year, she’d had her wisdom teeth pulled by the English dentist. This was like nothing she’d ever experienced.

Rachael hadn’t told anyone. Not even her mamm. No one in the Amish community knew she was ime familye weg. She’d known they would judge her harshly. And so she’d weathered this storm alone.

The pains had started after supper. At first, Rachael thought it was indigestion. By midnight she was pacing and upset and she knew it wasn’t going to go away. If she didn’t leave soon, everyone would know; her life would be over. And so after her parents went to bed, she’d sneaked from the house. She cut through the cornfield, fighting her way through mud, panting like an animal, bending and clutching her belly with every wave of pain. She called Loretta from the phone shack and asked her to meet her at the bridge, like they’d planned. By the time Rachael got there, she was hysterical and crying and certain this would be her last night on earth.

Relief swamped her at the sight of her friend’s buggy.

“Rachael!” Loretta rushed toward her. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s time,” she cried.

Loretta reached her, set her hand on her back. “You’re going to be all right. Come on. Let’s go.”

She choked out a sob as another cramp ripped through her middle. She staggered right, leaned against the beam. A warm flood gushed between her legs, soaking her underthings and shoes. Horrified, Rachael looked down, watched it run down her legs, and splash onto the ground at her feet.

She knew what it was; she’d read about all the things that would happen. But to see it was an out-of-body experience.

“I don’t want to do this!” she cried.

“It’s okay,” Loretta said. “It’s normal. But we don’t have much time.”

Loretta put her arm around her. Rachael closed her eyes and let her friend guide her to the buggy. For the first time in hours, she didn’t feel alone. Still, she sobbed while her friend climbed onto the driver’s bench. She lost herself to the pain as they drove, the horse’s shod hooves clanking against the asphalt.