Conquer

By Lora Hoglund

The past year has been unsettling for Robin. First, the divorce of her parents after almost forty years of marriage, and then her husband’s job, which has consumed every second of his life, not leaving much room for their relationship. With her husband’s job transferring them to Corpus Christi, Robin must make a decision: should she move again and start a new life or divorce her husband and start all over again. She plans a trip to Corpus to look at houses with a short detour along the way—a community called Conquer where her mother now resides in hopes that her mother can offer guidance in the future of her life. After making, what she suspects, a wrong turn and a little car trouble, she arrives at Conquer. No cell phone service, strange people, and unable to locate her mom, she stops for lunch to figure out her next move. Little did she know it would be the last thing she would remember until later, much later. She wakes that evening to find she’s been held captive, against her will, and must abide by their rules in order to survive. As time goes by, she makes new friends. Some close, some distant. The one that gives her new hope is Charles, the man who reminds her of her husband—the man she married, not the man she was married to. Through time, feelings would grow between them, feelings they couldn’t leave behind. As months go by, people disappear, a suicide happens, a dead body is found. All Robin knows is she must get out, but whom can she trust? It would seem like forever before an escape plan is in order. When the big day comes, the person she trusted the most will be the one who lets her down. The experiences she endures will help her conquer her fears and animosities in the life she once lived before Conquer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781635681857

Book preview

1

I stood there at the sink, staring at my blood washing down the drain, off in thought again. If I hadn’t been in deep thought a few minutes ago, I wouldn’t have cut myself. I was washing my car, getting it ready for the trip. I don’t know why I decided to do this. It would only be covered with dirt and grime from spending hours on the road. By the time I got there, it would look just like it did before I started. Stupid me! I decided to use my hand to rub the missed spot of dirt from the bumper. We all know what happens when you lean over putting pressure on a wet surface with a wet, soapy hand. My hand slid across the bumper, slicing my finger wide open.

I pulled the cut apart, and it was deep. I didn’t think I needed stitches, but any deeper and I would be driving my freshly cleaned car to the emergency room. Somehow I got the feeling that something was telling me to stay, not to make this trip. After all, things haven’t been going too well on the home front.

I found a bottle of liquid Band-Aid in the first aid kit; after dousing in peroxide and blotting dry, I applied it to the cut. Man, it burned! I placed a Band-Aid over the newly sealed cut and decided to put the stuff I needed to doctor my wound in the suitcase now, before I forgot.

My husband and I hadn’t been getting along very well lately. Eight months ago, he started working on a new project at work, which required him to be gone all the time. He was coming in late every evening, usually missing dinner. If he didn’t eat before he got home, he would sit in front of the TV, shoveling the plate I had fixed for him earlier, totally oblivious to anything and everything in the room including me. It wasn’t so bad at first when it was just the evening. I worked during the day, so I was usually tired when I got home, but he would continue to work at home until the wee hours of the morning. Eventually, he started working the weekends too. This was a little harder to handle. We began arguing a lot, and then the silence—for days. Then he started traveling. He would be gone a week to two weeks at a time.

Three months ago, he came home telling me they promoted him to head of operations, which meant he would have to stay in Corpus Christi. We live on the north side of Houston, so that wasn’t so bad. A five- to six-hour trip could be made if he could only find the time to do so. At first, our time apart gave me time to think about this situation. The extra money was good. He promised that it wouldn’t stay this way; the startup was the most time-consuming in every new job. Once it was up and running, he would be back to normal hours. He was doing this for us, to give us a better life. He wanted me to be able to stay home with our children, once we had them. This was another sore subject. I wanted kids. We had been married for three years, had moved twice because of his work, but the thought of having kids was something he wouldn’t even talk about. Having a child right now would occupy my time while he was away. I guess that wouldn’t be the right reason for having one.

I began putting the clothes I had folded on the bed in my suitcase. Was it even worth my moving down there? The two of us couldn’t even carry a conversation longer than a few minutes when we were together. Our phone conversations became shorter and shorter. Now he basically called to tell me good night. He just wasn’t the same person anymore. I guess I wasn’t either. Was I willing to give up my job and what few friends I had only to move there and start all over again? Family wasn’t a problem. I was an only child of two people, married over thirty years, who decided to get a divorce last year. I guess I hadn’t seen this coming. I was busy at school then started dating my husband, and before I knew it, he had a job, and we were married and moving away. My father traveled all the time, and I guess, with me gone too, my mom was lonely. I knew now how she felt. Their divorce was final ten months ago, and six months ago, I received a letter from her telling me that she was moving to a place called Conquer. She loved it! She had been traveling with a singles group after the divorce, and one of her new friends from the group had told her about the place. I had to be excited for her and her newfound happiness. It was between here and Corpus, so I planned on staying with her for a couple of days before meeting up with my husband. As far as my father, I hadn’t heard from him in a while.

After I finished packing, I took a shower and got dressed to meet with a few friends for dinner and drinks. I really didn’t have any close friends; they were more like acquaintances. I figured a couple of drinks might help me sleep tonight. I needed to sleep. With my mind constantly wandering, I had found it difficult to get any sleep lately.

I arrived home close to one in the morning feeling a little more relaxed than when I left. It was nice not thinking, for a few short hours, about all the things going on in my life. I did a quick scan of the things I had packed to make sure I wasn’t missing anything and crawled into bed, my hand throbbing from the cut I had endured earlier. This would be the beginning of a nightmare!

2

Buzzzzzzzz! The alarm was blaring—5:30 a.m. I jumped out of bed. This was the day I leave for my new home, my new life. My thoughts went directly to the phone call I received from my husband last night. He had found a couple of houses for us to look at when I got there.

After dressing, doing my makeup, and packing a few last-minute items, I finished loading the car. Even with the turmoil in my life, I was still excited about this trip, excited to see my mom. I hadn’t seen my mom in such a long time. I wanted to talk to her and explain what was going on, how I was feeling. Maybe she would help ease my mind about everything going on in my life. It’s been almost three months since we last talked, but the last time we spoke, she sounded as though she was getting her life back together again. She’d met some new friends and had been traveling a lot. The last letter she sent was brief, which, for her, meant she had better things to do. She wrote that she would be moving to Conquer the following week, and I should stop by if I ever made a trip to Corpus Christi. I’d been calling, but her phone would go straight to voice mail, not that this surprised me. She never checked her voice mail, claiming she didn’t know how to work her phone, yet she didn’t turn her phone on unless she planned on making a call. She did assure me that she wouldn’t be traveling for a while and would be getting things ready for my visit. I’ll try calling her once I get closer to where she lives.

I couldn’t believe four hours had passed since I left the house at 6:00 a.m. My thinking about my mom and husband really made time fly. I was listening to old songs playing on the radio when I saw this Farm Road exit off the main road. I wonder if this is the cutoff Mom mentioned in her letter. I continued to drive awhile longer when I approached a sign informing me that Highway 77 was a few miles ahead. That was my exit to Corpus. That must have been the turn off back there. I turned around and headed back knowing that I had lost almost an hour of time. I had to exit and get gas since my tank was on empty (something my husband would be lecturing me about right now, if he were here). You should have filled the car up with gas before you left. Oh well, there’s a gas station here, and everything is going to work out just fine. I never realized how lonely it gets when traveling by oneself, although it had given me more time to think. Everyone needs time alone.

I let the attendant pump the gas while I looked over the map. Strange, but there was no Conquer on the map. I asked the attendant if he knew where it was, and he said he had never heard of it. When I asked him about the Farm Road I had passed earlier and where it went, he said there was no Farm Road that he knew of. The only road he remembered was a road leading to a resort some builder started five years ago and never finished. Nobody ever used it. Maybe that’s the name of the resort, Conquer. He had a point, but I just received a letter from my mom just weeks ago inviting me to visit on my way to Corpus.

I went inside and bought a new map thinking any new development would be found there. But it wasn’t. No Conquer. Maybe it wasn’t a town, but some sort of community, privately owned. That would explain why it wasn’t on the map. I tried calling her again. No answer. I guess I’ll check it out. If I found nothing, then I’d drive to Corpus to meet my husband. I could call her when I got there and get better directions and stop to visit on my way back home.

Another hour in the opposite direction, I came upon the Farm Road that I had passed before. No sign this time. I wondered if this was the same road. I didn’t remember seeing another road along the way. It had to be. I decided to turn there anyway. It was a dirt road, so all that was behind me was a trail of dust. I was going faster than on the highway, trying to make up for lost time; there wasn’t anyone out here to stop me.

I drove for almost an hour. I was beginning to believe the guy at the service station was right—there’s nothing out here—when all of a sudden, my tire blew. Losing control of the car, it began to spin. God, I hoped it didn’t slide off the shoulder; it was just enough of a drop to roll the car. I couldn’t see a thing in all the dust. Finally, the car stopped. Oh this is great, just great. I’m in the middle of nowhere and have a flat. I grabbed my cell phone, but no signal. I decided to get out of the car and see if I could get better reception, but nothing. I reached in the car and pushed the button to open the trunk. My trunk, being full of suitcases, made me even angrier. I should have just kept on driving to Highway 77. I should have never turned around, should have never came back. I didn’t even know where I was or if anyone else was around. I hope I have a spare and a jack.

About the time I finished unloading the suitcases and reached for the spare, a truck pulled up. No, it’s a wrecker. This tall guy in jeans and a button-up shirt stepped out and started toward me and my car. He had a strange look about him. He had long, stringy sandy-blond hair and looked as if he hadn’t bathed in a week. His skin was rough with a scar running down the right side of his face. Ordinarily, I would have run, but there was nowhere to go and, trying hard to keep my thoughts clear, he had the only vehicle still moving.

Hi. I’m Jack, he said. (Just when I needed one.) Looks like you could use a hand.

Actually, I could use a ‘jack,’ I said, trying to be funny. He didn’t laugh.

I’ll tow you up to the station and get you a new tire. Don’t think we’ll be able to fix this one, he said, never looking up.

You mean there is a station here? I was shocked. Why would there be a station here? It didn’t seem right, but I wasn’t going to argue. I just wanted to get my car back on the road again.

I put the suitcases back in the trunk, with his help, then ran to the wrecker and hopped in on the passenger side—sitting as close to the door as I possibly could without it being noticeable that I was doing so.

Is there a town up here? I asked, not expecting a detailed answer. I didn’t get an answer at all.

Fine! If you don’t want to talk, it’s okay with me. Just get my car fixed, and I will be on my way. Just get me someplace where there are more people, someone besides you. If only he could read my mind.

You don’t have to be scared. I’m not going to hurt you, he barked, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.

Up ahead, I saw a large building, a condo or something. There was a grocery store, a clothing store, and, what do you know, a service station. The whole area was surrounded by a tall iron fence with a beautifully decorated iron gate. On the gate in large bold letters said Conquer. This is it! I could see how my mom would call it a town. It was beautiful. Almost like a resort. Not like anything you would imagine in the middle of nowhere. We pulled into the service station and into the garage. I got out and looked around almost in disbelief.

Jack put the car on the lift and began removing the tire when it finally hit me. Why did he show up right after my tire blew? It was almost as if he was waiting for me. As though he knew I would be there. Something isn’t right here.

Looking around, everyone seemed to be dressed the same. Almost like uniforms of different colors, some solids and some prints. Everyone seemed to know each other. No strangers.

Hey, lady? Your car is ready! Jack yelled from across the lot.

I walked over to where he was. How much? I asked.

That’ll be ninety dollars. I won’t charge you for the wrecker service. I was on my way back anyhow. He spoke with the kindest voice I had heard from him yet.

Thank you very much. I didn’t carry much cash. I wasn’t expecting anything like this to happen. I was almost relieved.

You should always be prepared, then there is no unexpected. It was as if Jack was trying to prepare me for something.

I looked over at the small subdivision up the road and said, You don’t happen to know a Mary Williams? As I turned back around, Jack was gone, wrecker and all, and I never heard him leave.

I got in the car and drove around a bit hoping to see Mom or someone that I thought could help me find her.

It was 1:00 p.m. now, and I was starting to get hungry. The only place I saw that served food was at the big building, the one that looked like a large, very expensive hotel. I parked the car in the front parking lot and went inside.

It was beautiful, very extravagant. I started to walk back out thinking I didn’t have enough money for this place when a soft voice said, Can I help you?

Yes, I said. I was looking for a place to get a bite to eat.

Well, you come right on in, dear, and we can get you some lunch. My name is Ms. Rayburg, Charlotte Rayburg, she said. This woman could become someone’s grandmother in the blink of an eye with her short gray hair, lightly teased on top, and loose curls sprayed so thick with hairspray that a tornado couldn’t touch it. She had glasses sitting low on her nose with her eyes slightly peeking over the top.

I followed her into the dining room. A large burgundy and hunter-green rug covered the hardwood floor almost from wall to wall. The table and chairs were black trimmed in gold. The heavy drapes were burgundy trimmed in gold as well. Crystal chandeliers hung from the raised ceilings with dimly lit lights. After the kind of afternoon I’d had, I could stand to be pampered a little.

Ms. Rayburg seated me at a corner table, which suited me fine. A little peace and quiet was just what I needed. She took my order and headed for the kitchen. When she returned, she had a large glass of ice tea.

You wouldn’t happen to know a woman named Mary Williams, would you? I asked.

I’m not sure, she said with a strange look on her face. She hurried away as if what I had said frightened her. Maybe she did know her. Maybe she didn’t like her. No, Mom could make friends with the enemy on the battlefield. Maybe something had happened to her, and she knew about it. Things started to seem weird again.

A few minutes later, a young man appeared in a green shirt, black slacks, and a bow tie. He was carrying a tray of sandwiches.

Where’s Ms. Rayburg? Is she all right? I asked.

He just smiled and walked away.

I sat there puzzled, not knowing what to think. Maybe it was all the things that had happened today. I’ll just sit here and eat my lunch, rest, and then I’ll go find Mom. That was the last thing I remembered until later—much later.

3

When I opened my eyes, it was several hours later. Everything was a blur. The room was dimly lit by what little light shone through the sides of the heavy drapes that hung over the window.

The door opened. As the light from the hall lit up the room, everything started to come into focus. There was a double dresser against the wall at the foot of the bed with an oval mirror above. There was a door to the left of the dresser. In the right corner of the room were two chairs with a round table between them and a floor lamp overlooking the tabletop. A nightstand sat on each side of the bed, harboring lamps. The wall to my right had the large window covered in heavy drapes. The wall to my left was the door that now stood open. Looking at the open door, I could see this shadow before me. I turned the lamp on beside the bed, and there stood Ms. Rayburg with what appeared to be my dinner. Where am I? What’s going on? I thought. All I knew was I wanted to get out of this place. I felt as though I were on another planet. Lots of people around yet no one saw me, heard me, or knew I existed except for the selected few.

What happened? I asked Ms. Rayburg.

You weren’t feeling well. You fainted, so we brought you up here to lie down. How do you feel now, dear? she asked.

My head is killing me. My vision is blurred. I really need to get out of here. I was supposed to meet my mother here today. I’m sure she’s worried by now. What time is it anyway? I asked.

It’s eight o’clock, and I don’t think you’re in any condition to be driving. Here, take this. It’ll help your headache. You can stay the night. Surely you’ll feel better by morning. Her soft voice could almost put you to sleep.

She started to walk away. Where’s my phone? I need to call my husband and let him know I made it. He’s expecting a call from me, I said.

Your things must still be in your car, she said. Look, Robin, why don’t you give me his number, and I’ll call him when I get home and let him know that you are fine. You can call him tomorrow.

Okay. I yawned. I’m feeling a little tired. I gave her his number on a piece of paper that she put in her pocket. Don’t forget to call him.

I won’t forget, she said, walking toward the door.

Ms. Rayburg? I called out to her. How did you know my name?

You did a lot of talking in your sleep. I know a lot more about you now than I did when you first got here. These were her final words as she left the room.

I was fading into a deep sleep when I thought I heard the door lock. I wanted to get up and go check. Why would she be locking me in? Oh, she’s probably locking everyone else out. I felt safe.

I woke up the next morning feeling a little groggy but rested. I went over to the door left of the dresser; it was a bathroom. All my cosmetics were in the cabinet, toothbrush and toothpaste in the cup by the sink. Maybe I was having a bad dream. Inside, there was another door leading to the closet. All my things were hanging there. My suitcases were stacked neatly in the corner on the floor. My shoes were lined up against the wall. I went to the dresser and began opening the drawers. My lingerie, T-shirts, and socks were folded neatly and put away. You would have thought Mom was here. It reminded me of my room at home when I was a teenager. I must have made it to Mom’s. This has to be her new house. Boy I must have been some kind of tired yesterday.

After getting dressed, I headed to the only door left; this had to be the way out. I reached for the doorknob, but it was locked. I tried to find a way to unlock the door, but it wasn’t going to happen from my side of the room. That’s when it hit me; Ms. Rayburg locked the door on her way out. It wasn’t a dream after all. That’s when the fear set in again. I ran around the room frantically looking for my purse. It wasn’t there. I needed my keys and my cell phone.

Another hour passed before I heard noises coming from the other side of the door. The door unlocked, and in walked a woman. Someone I had never seen before. She walked over to where I was sitting and sat down in the chair across from me.

Who are you? I asked, not really caring at this point but thought maybe this would be the one to get me out of here.

My name is LeeAnn. I’ll be your contact person during your stay, she said.

During my stay? During my stay! I was in shock by what I was hearing. First of all, I’m not staying here. I came to visit my mother, and if I can’t find her, I’m heading to Corpus Christi. I was going to meet my husband there on Saturday. I don’t know what’s going on around here or who you are, but I’m not staying here. I want to talk to someone who can tell me what’s going on.

Robin, you sound upset. I’m here to help you. Why don’t you have breakfast and then we’ll talk. I’m sure everything will be fine. Her voice was very reassuring as she headed for the door. As she opened it, a young man appeared. It was the same man from the dining room the night before. He was pushing a cart with a variety of breakfast foods.

I can go down to the dining room. I mean, I feel better this morning. I said this in hopes of getting out of this room and going someplace where there might be someone who could help me.

The dining room doesn’t serve breakfast, LeeAnn said as she turned and left the room.

The young man pushed the cart over to the table, unloaded my food, and looked at me with a smile. As he left, I heard the door lock behind him.

They must have me confused with someone else. After breakfast, I will explain to her what happened, and this will be over. I’ll head for Corpus, and I won’t look back. I’ve just got to get out of here.

I looked at the food on the tray. It looked and smelled so good. I began eating, wondering what would happen next. After breakfast, I went over to the window and drew back the drapes. There in the parking lot was my car, right where I left it. This was good news.

An hour passed when I heard