No answer.
“They know what, Rodney?”
The phone went dead.
And the brother shall deliver up the brother to death, and the father the child: and the children shall rise up against their parents, and cause them to be put to death.
And ye shall be hated of all men for my name's sake: but he that endureth to the end shall be saved.
Matthew 10:21-22
Chapter 9
We have to go,” Tori said, leaping from the couch. “Now!”
Thomas couldn’t move. Could barely breathe. Thoughts fired through his mind like laser beams in a light show, frying his reason and logic, along with anything else he could cling to for hope.
“We don’t know what Rodney was talking about,” he finally muttered, staring at the drink in his hand. He lifted it to his mouth, but Tori gripped him and removed the glass before he could take the sip he longed for—the sip that might ease the confusion and terror rampaging through him like a freight train.
She stared up at him, unblinking, more serious than he’d ever seen her. “Wedoknow. And if we don’t get out of here right now, we are both done for. Do you hear me? Now, come on!” Grabbing his hand, she headed for the door.
He tugged her to a halt. “What about my things? My phone, my clothes?”
“Don’t need them.” She pulled him harder, struggling to get him to move.
“I can’t leave.” Thomas shook his head, trying to dislodge the reality of what was happening. “I’m Vice Regent of the New World Faith North American Region. They can’t…they won’t…”
Tori released her grip. “They will.” She studied him, sadness in her eyes, along with an unrelenting appeal. But how could he walk away from everything he’d accomplished? Everything he’d worked for?
“Stay, then, but I have to go.” Turning, Tori rushed through the foyer and out the door.
And at that moment as he watched her dash away, his shock, his denial turned into fear. Rodney would never mislead him, and they would not be on their way to arrest him unless they had undeniable proof of how he’d helped Tori escape.
His life was over. Finished.
He rushed to catch up to Tori as she ran across his driveway, almost to the front gate. “Tori, we’ll take my car. Get in.” He moved his hand over the door, and it clicked open.
“Are you kidding me?” Tori shouted over her shoulder. “They’ll use it to track you. Hurry. We need to run.”
Thomas started toward her, then turned to look at his magnificent house, his Mercedes, symbols of his success and power, everything he’d worked to achieve these past three years. This couldn’t be happening. Why was this happening?
Deep down, though, he knew why. He’d gone against the NWU, and at his level, that was treason and an automatic execution.
He gulped.
In the distance, sirens blared. For him? Or would they come stealthily to drag him from his home?
“Thomas!”
Spinning about, he did the only thing he could do. He ran. The gate opened automatically at his presence, and grabbing Tori’s hand, they raced across the street and into a grove of bushy, shrubs just as five black NWU SUVs, sirens screaming and lights blaring, descended upon his house like vultures on a fresh kill.
“Check out back! I want every tree, bush, and rock searched! You two, follow me inside.” The voice belonged to Sergeant Cruz.
Thomas didn’t stay to hear the rest. Tori and he made a mad dash down the peninsula, making sure to stick to the foliage along the side of the road. They halted at the Matanzas River, breath heaving. Crossing on the two-lane bridge left them completely exposed, but what choice did they have? It was the quickest way to the mainland. Bolting after Tori, Thomas hoped they looked like two joggers out for a late afternoon run…a hard sell due to his designer pants and Italian leather loafers.
But no one stopped them. No sirens blared after them.
After that, everything became a blur of city streets covered in trash, boarded-up shops, people in rags pushing shopping carts filled with junk, and the most putrid odor Thomas had ever smelled. The sun sank behind the taller buildings, dragging with it only a pinch of the heat and humidity. Sweat beaded on his forehead and streamed down his back, soaking his shirt. His feet hurt. His legs ached. His heart raced. But most of all, his soul sank into a deep despair.
