Torn Asunder
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Torn Asunder (Whispers of Refuge, #3)
PART 1
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
PART 2
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
PART 3
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
PART 4
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
PART 5
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
Torn
Asunder
a novel by Alana Terry
The characters in this book are fictional. Any resemblance to real persons is coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form (electronic, audio, print, film, etc.) without the author’s written consent.
Torn Asunder
Copyright © 2014 Alana Terry
Cover design by Damonza.
Scriptures quoted from THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
The hymns My Jesus, I Love Thee and It Is Well are in the public domain.
All other song lyrics copyright Cherie Norquay.
Used by permission.
www.cherienorquay.com
www.alanaterry.com
PART 1
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you.” Isaiah 43:2a
CHAPTER 1
“Do you think it’s all right to lie?” Hannah kicked the empty hammock and watched it swing lazily back and forth.
Simon bent down to pluck a stray weed near the base of a blood-red rose bush. “I guess it depends on why you’re asking.”
Hannah ran the tip of her tongue across her dry lip. “I was thinking about the Sterns’ instructions. When we get back home, we’re supposed to make up answers if anyone questions us. Is that really what God would want us to do?”
Simon’s shoulder was almost close enough to touch hers, and she could sense the rise and fall of his chest without having to look. “Wrong or right, times may come when we have to stretch the truth. You know that, don’t you?”
She stared at her hands. “But it’s wrong.”
He made a sound that was a blend between a chuckle and a sigh. “With everything ahead of us, you’re worried about your conscience?” She couldn’t tell if he meant to compliment her or not. After a pause, he turned until his face was so close she could smell the garlic and vinegar on his breath and the faint scent of American soap lingering on his skin. “If we want to survive, we need to be wise like serpents, just like Jesus said. As soon as we cross that river tomorrow, everything will change. We have to be prepared. If not ... well, then the Sterns might have wasted their time training us.”
Hannah’s arm brushed against his shirt. “But you wouldn’t lie about your faith, would you?”
“Lie about being a Christian? I hope not.”
“You hope not? What about that missionary Mrs. Stern mentioned who recanted to avoid the prison camps?”
Simon’s features softened. “Mr. Stern told me something last week. He told me, ‘Never judge someone who fails a test you yourself have yet to pass.’”
As Hannah thought of the hundreds of kilometers and sleepless nights ahead of her, she wondered what tests they would have to endure once they left the Secret Seminary.
Simon exhaled as he stretched his arms. “I wish we didn’t have to say good-bye.” His voice was distant. They had already discussed it before. There was nothing more to say. The Sterns insisted it was far too dangerous for the graduates to return to North Korea together.
Hannah stared at the moon. She would never sit here beside him again in this garden. “There are no good-byes in the kingdom of heaven,” she whispered, hoping her words carried the conviction her soul lacked.
***
Juliette Stern stared out the window. She had been up in the den cleaning all afternoon. Everything needed to look perfect for the graduation ceremony tomorrow. The students had worked so hard. They had already sacrificed so much. They deserved a proper sending-off celebration. Heaven knew when they would have opportunity to rejoice together with other believers once they left Yanji.
She wiped the window with a paper towel, and her heart squeezed inside her chest just a little bit when she saw Hannah and Simon below in the garden. He leaned toward her so expectantly, so hopefully. A serene smile spread across her face. Did either of them know what was about to happen — what freedoms they would give up when they crossed the Tumen River and returned to the land of persecution and starvation? Juliette admired them, admired the courage it took to accept the call to sneak back to North Korea, but she wondered if sending them out really was the right thing. Especially with Hannah. She was so young. Juliette and her husband tried to talk to her about staying behind. Out of all the North Korean refugees who went through their Secret Seminary, Hannah was the most passionate about returning home. Nothing the Sterns could say would change her mind.
Juliette looked around to inventory all the work still left to be done for the graduation. She knew this den might be the last glimpse of refuge, the last taste of home, some of the students would ever experience.
CHAPTER 2
“I’m looking for Jesus in glory to come, from glory land over the sea.”
The sound of lapping water interrupted Hannah’s quiet song. She strained her ears. Was someone nearby? If they came after her, she had to be ready. She adjusted her bag. It was lighter after she gave away her food to the street children back at the bus stop.
The breeze was picking up. Hannah needed to move, but she couldn’t stop wondering about Simon. Was he already across the border? Would he make it all right? Would she? She had always relied on his wisdom. What would she do now they were apart? She could still hear his voice in her mind.”Never judge someone who fails a test you yourself have yet to pass.” Did either of them really know what tests lay ahead of them?
The last time she was at the Tumen River, she was a refugee, starving and terrified, fleeing the hunger and famine of her childhood. She tiptoed to the water’s edge. The river flowed lazily. It was never very deep this time of year. A few steps, and she would be to the other side. Had the same water lapped Simon’s feet when he crossed?
She sucked in her breath when her bare foot met the icy cold. She thought of the woman she had given her boots to a few hours ago back in Yanji. She didn’t regret helping the young mother out, but now Hannah’s thighs throbbed. The thin muscle on the front of her shins felt as tight as a piece of elastic about to snap, but she had to keep going. A little farther into the riverbed, she still hadn’t shaken the feeling of being watched. Was that a twig breaking behind her? She spun around. An animal, she assured herself. Just a little, harmless animal.
“A cloud of bright angels to carry me home ...”
A few more unsteady ste
ps brought her to the other side. One year ago, Hannah had risked border police and prison camps for a small taste of freedom in China, but she had never forgotten her homeland. She filled her lungs with the cool North Korean air and was surprised at how familiar it felt. She was home.
“Yes, this will be heaven to me.”
The song always reminded her of Simon. Even now, she could almost hear him singing with such conviction and power, never once suspecting he was hopelessly out of tune. But that was Simon. Bold. Courageous. Wherever he was right now, he certainly wasn’t jumping and startling at every sound in the night. He’d hurry to complete the first phase of his mission without wondering about his own safety. Not like Hannah. She didn’t know how much time she had already wasted staring into the darkness, hoping for strength just to move into the woods after crossing the river.
She had memorized over a dozen verses about fear at the Secret Seminary. Mrs. Stern told her to recite the passages to herself whenever she felt anxious. But even when she set her mind on Scripture, all she could think about was him, the way he talked, the way he smelled when he sat next to her for breakfast around the Sterns’ big table. She remembered their conversation yesterday, the last night they spent in Yanji. She hadn’t been able to sleep and wandered into Mrs. Stern’s garden. Simon was reclining on the hammock, a Bible propped open against his chest, and she realized there was only one reason she had come out of her room at all.
It had nothing to do with fresh air or flowers.
“I thought you might still be awake.” His smile had a disarming way of drawing all of her blood to her cheeks.
She sat across from him on the bench and eyed his Bible. “What are you studying?”
“Isaiah. Listen to this.” He shone his little flashlight on the page and read, “It is too small a thing for you to be my servant to restore the tribes of Jacob and bring back those of Israel I have kept. I will also make you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring my salvation to the ends of the earth.”
Simon’s voice soared with a wave of conviction that caused both yearning and aching to swell up in her spirit. He went on for several more verses. “Don’t you see?” He sat up. Hannah focused on his exact inflection. Once they left the Secret Seminary tomorrow, would she ever hear his voice again? “Isn’t it marvelous?” he asked.
She had missed everything he mentioned about the passage but nodded in agreement.
He closed the Bible and frowned. “Is something wrong?”
She pursed her lips together and looked at the stars. Would the sky look the same once she returned home? She was such a different person now. She realized that Simon was waiting for her and fumbled for a reply. “Just having a hard time sleeping, I suppose.”
He stretched his back, arching it to one side and then the other, nearly toppling out of the hammock. He cleared his throat twice, but the second time sounded more like a squeak. “Actually, since we’re both awake, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”
She focused on her slippers and didn’t dare raise her eyes to his. One of Simon’s vertebrae popped as he twisted his spine once again. She sucked in her bottom lip and glanced up at him. “Yes?”
He froze mid-stretch. His mouth hung half open, and deep red flushed its way up to his ears. “It’s just that, well, I’m not exactly sure how to say this.” He stood up awkwardly. It wasn’t until then she realized how sweaty her palms had grown. With a heavy sigh, he sank to the bench beside her and crossed his arms. “I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re very brave. Being the only girl to graduate the program, I mean.”
Hannah stared into her lap and let out the breath she had been holding. “Thank you.”
An owl screeched once, interrupting Hannah’s memories. When would she stop acting so silly? She had work to do. There wasn’t time to stand around all night reminiscing about someone she would never see again. She couldn’t let the Sterns down. As she walked, she recited the directions she had memorized earlier.
She bit her lip. Were those leaves crunching? She braced herself for an attack that never came. After a few moments of perfect stillness, she looked up at the night sky and unclenched her jaw. At the rate she was going, she would never make it to her first stop before morning. Her bare feet were dripping wet, and the icy chill traveled through her veins up her aching legs.
It didn’t take her long to reach the right house. Finding the courage to approach it was another matter. Why had the Sterns thought she could do this? She was only a child, really, not even twenty. And here she was, staring at a cabin she lacked the courage to approach, snapping her head around at every strange noise.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
The passage promised peace and protection, but Hannah felt neither. Staring at the house, she wondered what sort of comfort she’d experience if National Security agents arrested her the moment she knocked on the door.
She stared a little longer and prayed for God’s help. Morning wouldn’t wait. Besides, Simon and the others had probably each received much more dangerous missions than hers. How hard could it be to drop off some supplies with a known believer? If she ever saw Simon again, she didn’t want to be ashamed of failing. As it was, she probably could have made her first two deliveries by dawn if she hadn’t wavered for so long. Now she would have to wait a whole day before meeting her next contact.
Crouching in the woods, she drank the last drops of her water and saved the empty bottle for later. Making as little noise as possible, she felt for the hidden zipper in her backpack and took out several of the books and devices. After tucking them into the vest beneath her sweater, she slid the backpack under a bush and covered it with leaves and twigs. It was time. If she wanted to back out, she should have thought of that before she left Yanji and crossed the border in the first place. Holding her breath, she rushed ahead as though she might die if she didn’t run fast enough.
A candle flickered inside the house, and the front door slipped open before she even reached the porch. She sucked in her breath, half prepared to see a National Security agent inside aiming a gun at her forehead.
“Come in, friend.” Mr. Tong was a full head shorter than Hannah, with deep furrows etched into his ancient face. His back curved over his cane, and his whole body swayed in slow, almost melodic gyrations. He groped in front of him until he found Hannah’s hand. “Forgive me, but I do my best seeing with these.” His grip hinted at a strength long since departed as he ran his thumbs across Hannah’s skin. “I have not had a visitor this young in many years.” He moved aside and gestured toward a chair near the back of the room. “And where is your partner?”
Hannah frowned. “I came alone.”
He tilted his head to the side. “A young man was with you, no?” He squinted his eyes and leaned out the door.
Hannah licked her lower lip. “No, I’m here by myself.” Simon might be in a completely different province by this time tomorrow. Would she ever stop wondering what became of him?
Mr. Tong tapped the side of his head. “You bring bread for me, no?” His shirt hung loose like a second set of skin, and his collarbone protruded through the cloth like a mountain ridge.
She thought about the little flower-swallows she had given all her food packs to before she crossed the Tumen River into North Korea. The street children had been so enthusiastic, rushing up to her, hanging onto her limbs. As soon as she emptied the front of her backpack, they were gone. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any food with me.”
He smiled. “Not food, child. Bread. Living Word. You have brought me the Word of God, no?”
Embarrassed, she took one of the audio devices and placed it in his outstretched palms. He felt the small machine and nodded, fingering the complex parts. “I can show you how it works,” she offered.
Mr. Tong shook his head. “There is no need. But I thank you for this treasure, child. It was just
last week that I gave away my last player. That was one of the reasons I knew you would be coming, understand.”
Hannah didn’t understand, but she set the other units on the table in front of him. “I have four here all together. I wish it were more.”
Mr. Tong’s swaying grew even more pronounced. “A treasure, child.”
“I also brought you these.” Hannah slid the books out from her vest and placed them in his outstretched hands.
His milky eyes widened, and a smile cracked through the maze of wrinkles and creases on his face. He opened one of the Bibles and sniffed the pages loudly. “Manna from God Almighty.” He brought the book to his cheek and caressed its cover.
“I hope it’s enough.” She stood up.
He held the Bibles so tightly the veins in his forearms popped up like blue riverbeds. “There will never be enough. We pass out one Bible; ten people get saved. So then we need ten more Bibles, no? But why are you standing? Sit down. You have had a long journey, and I have expected you.”
Mr. Tong reached out, found Hannah’s hand, and pulled her back down onto the chair. With nimbleness despite his age, he made his way to the stove and grabbed two teacups. “You see, as soon as I ran out of the audio players, I knew you would be coming. I thought to myself, My visitors will be cold and thirsty. So I prepared you a treat.” She already recognized the smell of ginseng tea. Her stomach growled. He placed a small cup in front of her, along with a plate of pickled vegetables. “For you.” He smiled when she took her first bite, and she wondered with embarrassment if he could tell how hungry she was just by listening to her eat.
He brought his own mug over. “It is good, no?” He grunted as he sat down. “The ginseng is not easy to find, but today is a day to celebrate. It has been several months since I have shared food and fellowship with another believer. You sing?”
“Sing?” She took a scalding sip and thought of the many afternoons she spent sharing honey-sweetened tea with Mrs. Stern back in Yanji.
Mr. Tong rested his cup on the table and turned his head toward the window. “Sometimes I hear it, you know.”