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  Sitting there in the darkness, he rocked back and forth, trying to remember so many things that he liked that made him happy. Reese’s Peanut butter eggs, noise cancelling headphones, the smell of suntan lotion, Mexican food, real guacamole… not that processed sludge.

  Tabby.

  Her emails, her smiles, her laughter… it was all just more than he could bear wondering how she was doing. He hoped she found someone to dance with her, someone to make her smile if he couldn’t be there.

  Why was she hammering something? Why was she shouting?

  Brandon shook his head and covered his ears.

  No. She wasn’t shouting – he was.

  Where was the banging coming from?

  “Tobin? TOBIN? MAN, ARE YOU HERE?”

  He couldn’t even function, only uttered a sob as he tried to get to his feet and stumbled. His body was so tight from the small quarters of the room and covered with grime.

  Was he imagining things again?

  What if Parker was captured and this was just another way for the rebels to mess with him again?

  “Parker?” Brandon called out weakly, desperation bubbling up and outweighing the fear in him. “PARKER!” he screamed, banging lightly on the metal doorway before hesitating.

  The last time he’d banged on it, they’d barged in and beat him horribly. Was this about to happen again? He didn’t care anymore. He was so tired, so weak, and just needed to go home.

  “PARKERPARKERPARKERIMHERE!” Brandon screamed over and over again, repeatedly, with every ounce of his strength. He began throwing himself bodily against the door to make a thudding sound, wishing it would give. He didn’t care if he bruised anymore. He just had to get out of his awful cell. He wanted to breathe fresh air, take a darn shower, and feel the sun on his skin again.

  “Tobin! Oh my God, Tobin, buddy!”

  Brandon felt the door budge and hands grabbing him. He began fighting as fiercely as his weak body would allow. He leaned down and bit the offending hands, because they were never going to lock him in here again so long as he lived! He flailed wildly in an effort to get away.

  “C’mon man, I’ve got ya. Tobin! Tobin, quit fighting me - we are friends. Shhh! We’ve got you, brother.”

  Parker’s words pierced his consciousness as he collapsed against him, sobbing. Several other hands came out of the darkness as they guided him blindly through the night. Brandon started coughing as the gas burned his lungs until someone shoved a mask over his face.

  The hood! NO!

  Brandon began fighting them again, slapping away the hands and the mask. He was so weak, so tired, so ready to give up, but there was some bit of strength left in him, deep down inside. That spark of recognition that someone was about to yank him out of his cell and put a mask on his face again drove sheer panic through his body.

  Was he dreaming?

  Was this the end this time?

  He pictured that he would go gracefully to meet his Maker, to be the strong steadfast Christian soldier that he hoped he could be. Instead, he was ashamed. Brandon felt fear rush through him as he began sobbing desperately. This was the end and he wasn’t ready!

  He couldn’t just quit when he wanted to see Tabby’s smile again. He began to fight like a crazed man, his muscles straining with effort as he fought his saviors/attackers. He was lost in a nightmare and afraid that it was becoming all too real.

  He just couldn’t do it!

  “Dear God, I am so sorry, my brother.”

  A fist hit him hard under the chin, stunning him, and he collapsed against someone. They picked him up like he was nothing and Brandon gave in. He was so tired of fighting to stay sane anymore. Maybe it was just time to let it all go?

  He knew deep down that he would never be the same.

  “What have they done to you, Tobin?” he heard Parker’s devastated voice just seconds before he succumbed to the blackness swamping at him.

  “How are you feeling, soldier?” Houghton, the nurse on base asked, shining a flashlight in his eyes. Only Tabby called him soldier. She had a playful way of doing it with a heavy southern accent, and hearing someone else say it just hurt his soul.

  “Call me, Tobin – please.”

  “Sorry, just checking to see how you were doing and it was just a bit of friendly banter. I’m glad you are safe, Tobin.”

  “Me too.”

  “We’ve cleaned you up a bit, I’ve got a T.P.N bag and piggyback I.V. drip on you to replenish some nutrients in you. Malnourished, gaunt, a nasty infection on your foot, and a whopping case of lice… you should be good as new in a few days. You are a lucky man.”

  “Can I go home?”

  “Yep. Your brothers will be glad to have you back in the barracks.”

  “No,” Brandon said flatly in a belligerent tone. “I can’t do this.”

  “Soldier, you’ve got to…”

  “NO! Do not call me ‘soldier’. Only Tabby does. My name is Tobin to you and everyone else. No one gets to call me ‘soldier’ but my girl.”

  “Okay. Tobin. Want to tell me what is going on?”

  “No. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Do you want to talk about your time in captivity?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want to go to bed and get some rest? We can talk tomorrow when you are feeling better. Once you’ve had a few good meals in you and we get rid of the creepy-crawlies on you… you’ll be right as rain.”

  “Yes. I want to sleep.”

  “I’ll be back in the morning then.”

  Brandon lay back on the bedding and shivered, pulling up the blankets that felt so strange. He hadn’t used a pillow in who knew how long, yet the one under his head felt almost too soft. He shut his eyes and heard a click. His eyes flew open as he realized the light switch had been shut off.

  A barely recognizable groan surrounded him in the darkness and he saw the light was quickly turned back on.

  “Tobin? Are you okay?” Houghton said quickly, walking towards him.

  He couldn’t think – the memories were too raw.

  The dark.

  The cell. He was trapped in the dark again.

  “Shhh. Tobin. No one is going to turn off the lights again, okay? Shhh.” Brandon heard the words faintly through the screams echoing in his mind as he pressed his hands to his head. He needed air.

  He needed to be left alone.

  “I wanna go home,” Tobin breathed, rocking and hugging himself distraughtly. “I can’t go back. I can’t. The darkness. The noises. I just can’t.”

  “Shhh, Tobin,” Houghton quickly corrected. “We’ll figure this out in the morning. I will leave the light on for you and turn off all the noises from the machines, okay?”

  “Noooo. I can’t.”

  “I know. Shhh. I’ll help you get to sleep, Tobin, and we’ll talk once you’ve rested. Now, you are gonna feel a little dizzy when this kicks in.”

  He saw the nurse pushing a syringe in the IV bag as a wave of nausea overwhelmed him. His eyes closed of their own accord before quickly opening. He couldn’t be sedated! What if they came back for him? What if this was all a trick and he was still trapped?

  “No. I’ve gotta be able to fight. If they come back…”

  “There’s no one to fight here. You are safe.”

  “Tabby? She’s safe?”

  “Who’s Tabby?” Houghton asked.

  “My girl. Gotta go home to my wife, Tabby.”

  Chapter 5

  Tyler, Texas

  “Class, please take up your ukuleles and place your fingers like so,” Tabitha instructed tightly. This might be a special kind of torture she was about to endure… but it was new torture.

  If she listened to another shriek of a high-pitched plastic recorder one more time, they were going to have to replace a window, computer, or something, because she would literally snap.

  “Now, place your fingers on the second string – Mark, move your finger up. Gretchen – move yours down,” s
he instructed, looking at each child’s hand. “Now, very gently, strum your thumb down the strings.”

  A musical hum that didn’t sound too painfully off-key echoed in the room. She smiled happily and clapped her hands. Twenty proud faces beamed at each other and then at her. They were learning and it wasn’t half bad!

  “Look at that! You did beautifully! Now, let’s try it again with a beat, okay? Follow me,” Tabitha said, tapping her foot. “One, two, three, four, and a one, two, three…”

  The door to her classroom suddenly opened and she saw the attendance lady, Mary, as she leaned in the doorway. There was a strange expression on her face as she glanced between the children and Tabitha.

  What was wrong?

  Was she being fired or something?

  “Miss Mason? You’re needed in the office…” Mary said firmly.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Can you come now and I’ll stay with the class?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Get your purse,” the attendance lady instructed, hesitating.

  She was being fired!

  …And for what?

  Tabitha knew her face paled as she quickly grabbed it and practically ran from the classroom. She didn’t want the tears of embarrassment to be seen by the kiddos. If she was getting canned from her dream job, she would certainly go gracefully in the hopes that she could find another position. Her shoes tapped noisily on the tile floors and she slid to a stop as she saw she was not alone in the hallway.

  Leia and Lily had been summoned.

  The three women looked at each other in dawning horror.

  Tabitha collapsed on the floor in the empty hallway, stricken.

  She wasn’t being fired…

  It was something ten time worse than that.

  “Brandon?” she breathed, feeling everything pour out of her at once, leaving her utterly deflated. Lily’s hand flew up to cover her mouth as suddenly she saw John step forward towards his wife in his police uniform. Whatever it was, this had brought him off patrol to the school where they taught.

  Brandon was dead.

  She was going to be sick.

  “Tabitha, you are needed downtown.” John said, wiping his eyes.

  “What? Why?” she whispered, feeling tears roll down her cheeks. “If it’s Brandon - please don’t ask me to identify him. I can’t do it. I can’t identify his body. I’m going to throw up. We were friends, but not so close as that.”

  “Tabitha, he’s here, and we need you.”

  “He’s here?” she repeatedly woodenly, as Leia ran to her side, helping Tabitha off the floor where she’d collapsed. Lily hugged John and kissed him. He was alive?

  “Yes – and he’s asking for his wife,” John said carefully, watching her.

  “Brandon is married?” Tabitha gaped in stunned disbelief and incredulity. The handsome man she’d had a crush on was actually married to someone already? That just figured! Tonight would be vomit-central if she didn’t get out of here, she thought painfully, staring at her shoes.

  Wait! If he was married – then why did they need her?

  “Tabitha – Tobin is saying it’s you. He is claiming that he’s married to you. They are waiting on you to pick him up and sign his medical release forms.”

  “We aren’t married,” she breathed in shock, reeling. She stared at him in disbelief and stuck her finger in her ear, wiggling it. Surely she didn’t just hear him say that?

  “John, we aren’t married. Why would he say that? Medical forms? Is he okay? Is he hurt?”

  “No offense, but we can figure all of that out later. Right now, he’s waiting on a ride and they won’t release him to me, Wilkes, Minter, or anyone else. Apparently he needs to be in someone’s care for the next twenty-four hours. So, we are going to go get Tobin, bring him home with us, and have a long talk about what is going on.”

  “You want me to lie to them?” Tabitha said in disbelief, her voice escalating in intensity as she stared at three sets of eyes watching her. Her heart was hammering in her chest and she felt like she really might actually be ill.

  Was he crazy?

  Was she?

  What kind of person felt a pang of joy at the idea that Tobin was asking for her, of all people? She was elated that he was alive… and stunned he claimed she was his wife. What if something was seriously wrong?

  “God help me, yes I do…” John said forcefully, rubbing a hand over his face and into his hair.

  “He’s in your hands and I can’t leave him again. I left my team in Afghanistan and I feel like if I was there, I could have protected him. He was the youngest of us and we all looked at him like a kid brother. He’s a good guy and needs help right now. Please, Tabitha, for all our sakes and especially Tobin’s.”

  “They are gonna ask for proof,” she sputtered, concerned.

  “Then it burned or got lost,” he countered immediately. She could tell the older man was strained as his words were clipped. Lily was trying to calm him down as he stood there talking to her in the hallway of the school. “They are not going to ask for proof.”

  “What about my license…it has my name on it.”

  “You didn’t get it changed yet,” Lily chimed in quickly.

  “Tabitha, you need to just be there to help us pick him up and then you can go, if you want to. No one is expecting you to actually be his wife or anything else. Just help us bring him home.”

  “Please,” John begged painfully and Tabby saw the pain in his eyes.

  “Let’s go,” Tabitha agreed quietly.

  “Thank you,” he nodded and wiping his eyes.

  Ten minutes later, she was walking up the steps to the government building, her stomach in her throat. She was beside herself with not knowing what to expect from Tobin. They all looked petrified of what they might find.

  A news crew was on the street, watching everyone and filming. It was strange, surreal, and overwhelming. Stepping inside the building, she smelled the oddly cold and clinical scent of dust, paper, and ink. This was an office through and through. There was no warmth, no welcoming, and it felt detached. Somewhere in these walls was her friend she’d prayed for repeatedly… and she was going to be face-to-face with him before she knew it.

  They walked through metal detectors. Tabitha was wanded by the guard and she had her purse searched, before being allowed to walk inside the building. She glanced at John, unsure where to go or what to do, as she’d never even been inside the building before.

  “This way.”

  Her shoes tapped on the floor in a tick, tick, tick sound as they moved quickly. Part of her was afraid this was all a bad dream, that they would walk in, and it wouldn’t be Brandon waiting… but another part of her was afraid it was and he would be changed from the ordeal he’d been through.

  What if she was arrested for this? Was it even perjuring yourself if you lied to the government outside of sworn oath? She hadn’t laid her hand on a Bible yet and it didn’t sit well with her knowing she was going to tell a whopper of a lie. John held open a doorway and she swallowed hard, stepping inside.

  “Mrs. Tobin?”

  “Yes,” she squeaked nervously, and cleared her throat. “Sorry, allergies.”

  “Oh, I get it too,” the attendance smiled in sympathy. “Ragweed is high today and my postnasal drip is killing me.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Come this way. Your husband asked to be alone.”

  “Is he alright?” she whispered painfully.

  “Oh hon, he’s healthy. They will talk to you more about it when you see him. It will be okay.”

  Tabitha followed closely, barely able to see the woman as her eyes blurred. She realized that John and the others were waiting, unable to come back with her.

  A wooden door opened into a room full of sunlight. She saw he was facing the window with his eyes closed, staring sightlessly as the light shone directly in his face. His skin was so pale, almost sallow in color, and he had deep rings under his e
yes. He’d lost so much weight that his skin seemed to hang off his slight frame. He turned and opened his eyes, looking at her silently for what seemed like forever.

  “Tabby?”

  “Hey soldier,” she whispered.

  “I’ll give you two a few minutes,” the attendant said, stepping out and closing the door behind her. Tabitha stood there, her eyes taking him in and feeling strangely awkward. They were alone and he’d claimed she was his wife.

  Brandon didn’t say a word; instead he stepped forward and hugged her tightly. She wrapped her arms around him and held him as he broke down crying against her shoulder. Her heart ached for him and what he must have gone through.

  “Shhh. I’ve got you. You are safe,” she breathed, caressing his hair and rubbing his back, feeling his ribs and spine through the material of his shirt. He let out a shuddering sigh that shook his frame.

  “Tabby, help me,” he whispered against her shoulder. “I know I lied but please. I want to get away from all of this. I can’t go back.”

  “And you won’t,” she promised. “We are leaving here together.”

  “I want to go home.”

  “To your home, your parents, or maybe John and Lily’s house?”

  “Take me anywhere we can talk and be alone.”

  “John and the others really want to see you. We are all so glad you are alive and well.”

  “I’m not okay. I’m not the same guy.”

  “Shhh, Brandon. You’ve been through a lot and…”

  “Tabby, I can’t do this yet. I want to be with someone that I feel safe with… someone that knows how to make me smile. I don’t want to see anyone yet.”

  “How about we go home to my place and talk?”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Tobin? Can we come in?”

  “Yes,” Tabitha said, turning and instinctively standing protectively in front of Brandon. He was hurt enough and looked so uncomfortable, so lost in his eyes.

  “We need to talk about your husband’s need for counseling.”

  “I’m sure this can be discussed at his next visit.”