Here I Am. Send Me.--Chapter Thirty-Nine

Evelyn and Chris find that they are not out of danger.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

         It was approaching dinnertime when they finally left the police station and Evelyn was on the lookout for a drive-through along the fast-food heaven that was Lebanon Road. Having already had burgers and pizza for the week, they switched to fried chicken. During the ride back to his church, Chris focused his efforts on avoiding putting greasy fingers on the upholstery of Evelyn’s car.

         The sun had fully set when Evelyn pulled her car into Lakeland Church. The parking lot was nearly empty except for the church buses and some straggler cars that always seemed to be there. The building was dark and empty.

         Chris’s injuries were healing but he admitted to himself that he hadn’t been up to another day like this one and his ribs ached. But that would get better with Tylenol and time.

         When Evelyn pulled the car into a space next to the church office door, he turned to her and spoke in mock seriousness. “Do you want to neck?”

         She laughed. “I totally do. But I’ve seen you wincing all day and you might end up back in the Emergency Room.”

         He tried to laugh in return, only to have it cut short by another spasm of pain below his right breast. “I might, at that.”

         She returned to being serious. “I hope you’re heading straight home to get some rest.”

         “I will in a few minutes. I’ve got to go in and check on a few things first. How about you?”

         “I’m heading back to the office. My weekly reports are late, and, assuming I still have a job at all, I need to try to get back into Amanda’s good graces. They won’t take long. I’ve already written most of it in the individual action reports. It’s just a matter of cut-and-paste.”

         “Amanda hasn’t mentioned anything to me about reports.”

         “You still work for free, so she’s got to play nice. As soon as she can find a way to squeeze some money out of her budget for you, the gloves come off.”

         “So, money is a trap.”

         “A little more philosophical than I intended, but that doesn’t make it untrue.”

         He winced again as he leaned over to kiss her. Then he pulled out his phone and pressed in a code which unlocked the door to the office. He opened the car door and was laboriously climbing out, when one of the straggler cars, to which they had previously paid no attention, came to life, bolted across the parking lot, and stopped behind Evelyn’s car, blocking her in.

         Moving slowly and deliberately, three men exited the car. They were backlit by the pole lights in the parking lot rendering them completely in silhouette.

         “Y’all had to keep pushing” A voice came from a member of the trio.

         Chris reacted first. “Get in the building!”

         Evelyn scrambled out of the car and dashed toward the glass door, pulling it open and running inside. She turned, expecting Chris to be right behind her, but saw that he had stayed behind to delay the attackers. The electronic lock reengaged with a loud click. This seemed to be what Chris was waiting for and, as soon as the lock clicked, he started limp/running toward the trees at the edge of the lot. She watched as he made it almost to the edge of the pavement.

         A booming gunshot filled the night and, just as she shut her eyes against the blinding flash, she saw Chris go down and tumble forward into the shadows.

         When she opened her eyes again, two of the three attackers had started to walk toward where Chris had fallen. By their casual gait, they appeared unworried that Chris was getting away. She shoved that thought from her mind when she noticed the third gunman walking directly toward the glass door through which she was completely exposed. When he brought his pistol up, she bolted away from the door just as another boom resounded, followed by shattering glass.

         One in four overhead lights in the corridor were on, which would be adequate for a normal pace, but did not provide enough lighting for the terrified sprint of a woman who was unfamiliar with the building and glancing over her shoulder every few seconds. She careened into a fake potted plant and fell forward. Rolling over her shoulder, she came back to a sitting position and tried to regain her bearings. A momentary pause gave her a look at her pursuer smashing out the tempered glass in the door with the butt of his weapon.

         She leapt to her feet and continued down the hall to a tee intersection while fumbling her phone from her pocket. To her left was a short dead-end leading to a small lobby and an exit door. She needed to hide and not be out in the open. She turned right.

         The hallway she ran through had doors on both sides. He would have to check them all, so she needed to get as many doors as possible behind her before he turned the corner. She pushed herself faster. It was impossible to keep up the pace and dial 9-1-1 and she prioritized speed. The phone remained in her hand.

         Another corner was just ahead. Her lungs and legs were burning as she hurled herself past it and let herself stop. She tried to keep her breaths slow, steady, and quiet but her aching lungs wanted to gasp in deep drafts of air. After taking two long breaths, she peeked around the corner. The attacker had turned the corner and started after her. She waited to see if he would break into a run or try the first door. He stopped and tried the door. Turning and looking in the direction ahead, she saw that it was another lobby-type sitting area with a double door on one side, an exterior double door on the other, and a continuation of the corridor on the other. She carefully opened the interior double door. The room beyond had no windows and was completely dark.

         Tapping the flashlight on her phone, she scanned the room. There were six rows of chairs facing a slightly elevated platform at the front. On the wall behind the platform was a large cross and a projector screen. The projector was hanging from the ceiling. To her left was what was obviously a sound booth and to her right were two large sofas, a foosball table, and an air hockey table.

         She turned right and moved one of the sofas far enough from the wall to squeeze behind and crawled into the space. Her phone had one bar, which she hoped was enough. She dialed 911. It was answered after three rings.

         “911, what’s your emergency?”

         Evelyn’s voice came out as a gravelly whisper. “I’m being pursued by a man with a gun. Two other men shot at my boyfriend outside.”

         “What’s your location?”

         “I’m at Lakeland Church just off Trinity Lane. Do you know where that is?”

         The 911 operator tapped some keys. “400 Youngs Lane. Does that sound right?”

         “Yes. That’s it.” Evelyn’s breath was slowing enough that she could now hear the pounding of her heart.

         “I’ve dispatched police units to your location. They should be there within five minutes. Are you in a safe place?”

         “No. I don’t think so. I’m hiding behind a sofa in what I think is a combination chapel and teen room. My boyfriend is outside and they…” Her voice broke. “…they shot him. Or shot at him. I don’t know.”

         “Do you want me to stay on the line?”

         “No! No. The room is dark, and I can’t have the phone on. He would see me.”

         “Okay. Help is on the way.”

         “Thank you.” Evelyn hung up and was very alone.

         She opened the settings on her phone and turned everything to ‘silent’ and ‘no vibrate’. She then stuck it back in her pocket, making sure that the screen was toward her leg. She had to be perfectly quiet. She shut her mouth and breathed through her nose, listening in the darkness.

         A sudden noise in the room made her jump. It was the heating system kicking on and she listened to the air flowing through the registers. There was a slight hum coming from the equipment in the sound booth, and she could see a multicolored glow from the control panel. The room wasn’t completely dark, and her eyes adjusted to the dim light from the booth. There was a tiny reflection from something in the front of the room. She stared until her mind filled in the parts that her eyes could not see. It was the cross.

         She didn’t speak, but let the thoughts and feelings form in her mind. Jesus, please let Chris be okay. The second prayer of her life was one sentence.