Forgotten Son. Linda Warren

water twice a day. The first and second times Caroline wouldn’t eat or drink. The third time she wasn’t so choosy.

      Darkness was total and she felt it creeping into her soul. She’d beaten on the walls until her hands were numb. She’d screamed until her throat was raw. But nothing penetrated the blackness. Nothing eased its grip.

      The air was close and dank and the room reeked. At times Caroline had trouble breathing. She had to hold on. The police must be looking for her by now, but how would they know where to find her? Colin. She’d told Colin about the cult and how she was afraid of them. He would remember. He would help her.

      Please, Colin, tell my father and the police what I told you.

      Colin wasn’t the type of man to go charging in after the woman he loved. Suddenly she needed that—a strong man who didn’t care about anyone or anything but her.

      She twisted the ring on her finger. Lately she’d been having second thoughts about her engagement, and she didn’t know why. She loved Colin. They had the same interests—he owned camera stores in Austin, Dallas, San Antonio and Houston. There wasn’t a thing he didn’t know about cameras and photography. He helped her to improve her shots and they spent hours talking about angles and light.

      But their intimate relationship wasn’t as satisfying, as it was comfortable. Caroline had given up on finding passion—red-hot passion. That didn’t last forever, anyway. But she loved Colin. And he was someone her father hadn’t picked for her. Was that his big attraction? God, no, this place was making her crazy.

      A daughter’s guilt.

      Earlier—how long ago?—that thought had made her nervous and angry. Now she saw it for what it was—meaningless pride. Her father wanted to bend her to his will, and she was determined to live her own life. In this black abyss, holding on to her pride seemed an insignificant, even petty, struggle.

      She’d gladly trade her pride for the sight of daylight, for fresh air and time with her father. Time to say she was sorry and to…

      She couldn’t breathe and she fought the suffocating feeling. Caroline was still in command of herself enough to know that the prophet was trying to brainwash her. Slowly, methodically, the darkness would eat away at her until—

      Suddenly the wall opened and he stood there, the faint light like a yellow flame behind him. Caroline closed her eyes against the frightening scene. When she opened them again, Ruth was there with a white robe in her hands.

      “I have brought your wedding robe,” the prophet said.

      Ruth held it out to her. Caroline got to her feet and took it, then threw it on the dirt and spat on it.

      “Blasphemy,” Ruth shouted, and grabbed the robe from the dirt.

      “You have spirit,” the prophet said with a sinister smile.

      “But that will be broken.”

      “You can’t keep me here forever. The police will find me and you’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars.”

      “The FBI has already been here and they found nothing.”

      “What?”

      “If they come back, they won’t find you. At least not the person you used to be. You will be one of us by then and ready to fulfill the prophecy.”

      “You’re evil,” Caroline declared between clenched teeth. “I’ll never be your wife. I’d rather die.”

      His face hardened. “For your dishonor, you will be deprived of bread and water for a day. Then you’ll learn your place.”

      “Never, never, never!” Caroline screamed as he disappeared through the wall and darkness engulfed her once again.

      She sank onto the mattress, trying to still her trembling. Fear such as she’d never known before filled her. He was diabolical, out to kill her heart and her soul. Her body would survive, though.

      To serve him.

      No. No. No.

      But the FBI had been here. They hadn’t found her. Oh God. Where was she that even the FBI couldn’t find her? In hell, she thought. And there was no way out of hell. She would die here in the darkness.

      Or at least all that mattered would.

      INFILTRATING THE CULT was easier than Eli had imagined. The police let him out of the cruiser with a few harsh words in front of Buford’s followers. They immediately came to his aid. He told them he was down on his luck and had nowhere to go. They said they’d let him work for food until he got his head straight, and he could listen to the word of the prophet, who would nourish his soul.

      Eli was looking forward to that.

      He climbed into the bed of an old pickup and they headed out of Austin to the hills. One man, Nathaniel, sat with him; two women were in the front with Samuel, the other man. No one spoke. They turned off a highway onto a dirt road. When they turned again, it was onto nothing more than a cow trail, and the ride was bumpy and dusty. This area was sparsely populated and there wasn’t a house in sight, just thick woods and brush.

      Soon they stopped at a locked gate and Nathaniel got out to open it. Eli noticed the eight-foot-high barbed wire fence and the four-foot-high wire mesh that extended from the bottom up and enclosed the property. It wouldn’t be easy getting out of here.

      They drove into an area that had been cleared and buildings stood in a circle, as Tom had said. Eli counted six shacks and a larger structure that had to be the kitchen and eating room. Women and children were working in vegetable fields beyond the compound. They all wore brown robes.

      Chickens scratched in the dirt and goats wandered freely. Behind one shack was a rickety barn of sorts. The compound had a strange feel to it—as if it was out of step with time. And there was something else about it he couldn’t quite define.

      As the truck pulled to a stop, the smell of smoke drifted to his nostrils. He wrinkled his nose in distaste. This wasn’t cigarette smoke, though. What was it? He didn’t have time to ponder the question as two women, both pregnant, and several toddlers came to meet them. The women stared at the ground and didn’t speak. The children looked at him warily.

      “Come this way,” Samuel said, and Eli followed him to the largest of the primitive houses. Samuel tapped on the door.

      “Come in, my child,” a male voice called.

      They walked in to find a man sitting at a table with a Bible opened in front of him. Two men stood behind him. Eli knew this was Amos Buford, and his heart hammered with anticipation, but he was careful that nothing showed on his face.

      “Master, I found a needy soul and brought him to you.”

      Buford raised his head, and Eli was unprepared for the emotions that gripped him as he stared into those evil gray eyes.

      Tuck was right. Eli wanted to kill him.

      He wanted to put his hands around his throat and choke the life out of him…as Buford had done to Ginny. But he wouldn’t. Caroline Whitten’s life depended on his honor as a ranger, and he wouldn’t forget that.

      “What is your name, my son?” Buford asked.

      “Eli Carter,” he replied, using the fake name the FBI had given him.

      “Are you in trouble with the law?”

      “I’m separated from my wife, and when I went to the house to see my kids, she called the cops and had me arrested. In the separation agreement I’m suppose to be providing child support, but I lost my job and was unable to pay her any money.” That was the story the FBI had also given him. Buford hated women who tried to dominate a man.

      “Women do not know their place in this world.”

      Neither do you, you bastard.

      “Tell me about it,” Eli murmured.

      “All