Next Exit, Dead Ahead

by CW Browning

  Viper's lips curved coldly in satisfaction. The window was ajar.

  She entered the room, crossing swiftly to the large window. An old, large metal shelving rack on wheels stood in front of the window and Viper examined it carefully, noting the small clumps of dirt on the top shelf. She eased it away from the wall slowly, cringing at the loud screech the old wheels made in protest as they moved slowly across the worn stone floor. Slipping behind the rack, Viper scaled the brick wall easily, holding on to the window sill above her head. She pulled herself up and glanced at the narrow, stone sill. It was covered with dirt and dried leaves from outside. Reaching out, she touched one of the iron bars and it slipped sideways against the window. It had been sawed at both ends.

  Viper dropped back down onto the floor and smiled.

  Now she knew how he got in and out.

  She just had to find where he was being hidden.

  Damon stretched and yawned, glancing at the security monitor that showed him the kitchen and living room above. Still ensconced in Viper's command center, a large bottle of water sat at his elbow and a breakfast plate lay empty beside it. Viper left him there, under strict instructions to stay put until Michael and Angela were not there to see him sneak out. He had watched on the security camera as she left over two hours ago, leaving Angela settled at her dining room table with her laptop and Michael outside, tinkering with his truck.

  Damon turned his attention back to the computer in front of him and looked at the hotel call logs streaming onto the screen. He raised an eyebrow as one from the penthouse suite caught his eye, and he checked the log time with a frown. Placed twenty minutes ago, the call had been outgoing to the Rittenhouse Hotel in Philadelphia. Hawk refreshed the call logs and pursed his lips when he saw another outgoing call from the same suite to a cell phone. He turned to his laptop and opened a special database, plugging in the cell number swiftly. He smiled slightly when he got a hit back on a name he recognized.

  Turning back to the computer, Hawk opened another browser, pulling up the Rittenhouse Hotel main number. He picked up his cell phone and dialed, sitting back in his chair while it rang. His gaze wandered back to the security camera and he watched as Angela stretched and then hunched over her laptop again.

  “Good Morning! Thank you for calling the Rittenhouse. How may I assist you?” a female answered the phone, her voice a perfect blend of efficiency and friendliness.

  “Heavens! Is it morning there? Yes, I suppose it is,” Hawk's voice slipped into an effeminate tone with a crisp British accent. “Sorry. I'm calling from London. It's the middle of the night here.”

  “And how can I help you, sir?”

  “I'm calling to confirm a reservation for Jin Seung Moon,” Hawk told her, throwing in a yawn for good measure. “I'm told it was called in a few moments ago.”

  “Hold just one moment, sir,” the woman said politely, “and I'll take a look.”

  She placed him on hold and Hawk's eyes strayed to the outside camera where Michael had his head under his truck hood. As he watched, Michael pulled his head out and wiped his hands on a rag laying nearby.

  “I have it here, sir.” The efficient woman was back on the phone, drawing Damon's attention from the security cameras. “One of our Parkview Suites for two nights, checking in tomorrow. Is there a problem?”

  “Problem? No, not at all. Mr. Moon simply likes to be assured that everything will be as he requested,” Hawk told her cheerfully. “We've learned to confirm and re-confirm everything before he arrives.”

  “I understand, sir,” the woman said, allowing a smile into her voice now that the threat of losing the reservation was laid to rest. “We'll be ready for his arrival at five-thirty.”

  “Wonderful! Then I can go back to sleep in peace for a few hours,” Hawk announced. “Thank you so much.”

  “Not at all.”

  Hawk disconnected the call and set the phone down, smiling slowly.

  “Gotcha,” he whispered.

  Viper straightened up from where she crouched in front of the window outside and glanced around her. All the bars had been sawed, then placed back in position as if nothing was out of the ordinary. The ground around the window was disturbed and Alina fingered the scrap of white tee-shirt she pulled off a jagged piece of stone in the corner of the window frame. Frowning thoughtfully, she tucked the fabric into one of her pockets and turned to move along the path of the haunted maze.

  Her gut told her that Jenaro was hiding the boy close-by, and her bet was on the prison grounds. She was pretty sure the guide had been kidnapped to take care of the boy, and when Karl disappeared, Viper gathered the two were becoming a handful. She had already checked the inside of the prison, so that just left the exercise yard and the Warden's House. Too many people were coming and going from the Warden's House. The FBI were using it as a work center, causing Viper to bet heavily on the odds of the exercise yard.

  Somewhere out here, a small boy was being held captive.

  Rounding a bend in the path, she paused as she passed a flight of steps that led to a locked door in the prison. Alina glanced at it, recognizing it from when she walked through the haunted maze as a paying spectator. She pursed her lips and turned to continue walking, following the maze through a section of corrugated metal walls housing mock hospital rooms and cells. Halfway through the section, Viper stopped and swung around as an icy chill ran down her spine. Her eyes narrowed and she cast a searching glance up to the forbidding prison looming over the maze.

  Without knowing why, she began walking back toward the steps leading up to the locked door. The chill on her back remained, growing stronger as she drew closer to the steps. Viper ignored the cold, her eyes fixed on the small window high above her: the window she now knew belonged to the Dungeon.

  She reached the steps and put her foot on the bottom one, intending to go up to the door, but as soon as Alina set her hand on the railing, the icy chill disappeared. Frowning, she glanced up the sheer wall to the dark window. The feeling of awareness was gone.

  Viper turned around to step off the step and glanced up, looking straight-ahead. Her breath stilled. Up ahead, where the path veered into the hospital ward section of the walk, ten-foot tall pieces of plywood lined the left-hand side of the walkway. Alina had assumed the pieces of wood were leaning directly against the prison. However, looking straight from the steps, she could see a narrow opening between the wood and the wall creating another walkway behind the maze.

  Viper stared at the opening for a beat, then glanced back up at the Dungeon window. With a slight nod of her head, she turned and strode forward into the narrow walkway, following it behind the maze. It ran parallel with the prison, but when the maze turned inward, the outer walkway got wider, turning into a “backstage” section for the actors in the haunted maze.

  Alina stepped over an upside-down metal barrel and followed the path around the outer wall. About halfway around, she stopped and her lips curved into a smile. Straight-ahead in the corner, up against the wall of the prison yard, stood a large, 2-story shed. It looked as if it was a temporary garden shed, probably rented to help house all the extra paraphernalia the haunted walk required. A padlock hung on the door and black paper covered the inside of the windows on the ground level.

  Viper glanced around, listening to the silence around her before turning to her left and moving over to the wall. She quickly and silently scaled the wall, pulling herself onto the top a few moments later. She paused, taking a moment to catch her breath, and looked down on the other side. The wall over-looked a small parking lot and half a dozen cars were parked below her. Viper shook her head slightly, wondering why on earth she risked exposing herself like this for a small boy, before moving swiftly along the wall toward the shed. No sooner had the thought entered her head then she knew the answer.

  She did it because there was no one else.

  And men like Jenaro Gomez couldn't be allowed to win all the time.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

/>   Viper slipped through a small window and dropped silently into the shed. She found herself in the center of a large loft packed with plastic boxes and tubs, electric cabling, and spare outdoor light fixtures. A narrow aisle wound its way through the storage area to the edge of the loft, where the top of a fixed ladder peeked a few inches above the loft floor. She crouched, silent and still, her eyes narrowing at the muffled sobbing coming from below.

  She had found Marcus Nuñez.

  Viper crept forward silently until she reached a large wooden crate near the edge of the loft. Concealed behind its solidness, she peered over the edge. Murky shadows cloaked the ground floor of the shed, with the only light being that which filtered down from the two windows above. Marcus huddled in the corner to the left of the door, his head on his knees. His black running pants were covered with dust and dirt, and a grime-streaked white teeshirt hung from his bony shoulders. Next to him on the floor lay an empty McDonald's bag with some crumpled hamburger wrappers and an old pillow with a thread-bare blanket. It was clear that the boy attempted to muffle his sobs as he buried his face in his knees, his arms over his head.

  Alina scanned the rest of the floor slowly. The storage boxes had been pushed to the other side of the shed, leaving no room for anyone to move on the right side of the shed. There was no sign of anyone else in the front of the lower level, but Viper knew they were there. They would never leave the boy alone, even locked in. They had to be toward the back of the shed, below her.

  Even as she thought it, Alina heard movement directly below her. The top of Karl's head came into view as he moved out from under the loft, cursing.

  “Shut up!” he yelled as he moved towards Marcus. “I'm tired of listening to you!”

  Marcus didn't raise his head, but Alina heard him take a gasping breath as he tried to control his sobs.

  “Stop it, I said!”

  Karl kicked Marcus's feet, causing his legs to fly out in front of him.

  “Leave him alone!” a female voice cried from underneath Alina. “He can't help it.”

  “He can, and he will,” Karl snarled. “What a useless piece of shit. All he does is cry and eat.”

  “He's a little boy, not a piece of shit,” the woman retorted, coming into view from the back of the shed. “He misses his family and he's scared. What do you expect from him?”

  Her brown hair was pulled into a ponytail and she still wore the white nurse's scrubs smeared with fake blood that she had been wearing in the haunted walk the night she disappeared. She hurried across the floor as Marcus scooted as far back into the corner as possible, pulling his legs back up to his chest. He looked up and Viper saw huge, frightened eyes in a thin face before the woman hid him from view. She turned to face Karl defiantly and Viper's lips tightened grimly as she got a good look at the missing guide and Jessica's friend, Rachel. One black eye was completely swollen shut, while the other side of her face displayed a variety of multi-colored bruises and welts, making her skin tone indeterminable. Her bottom lip was split open in three different places and blood caked the side of her mouth. It looked like she had tried to clean it the best she could, but whether or not it had been split open again or had never stopped bleeding was up for debate.

  Viper cut her gaze to Karl, the flirtatious night guard Stephanie thought so charming, and her eyes dropped straight to his hands. Red, angry wounds stretched across his right knuckles.

  Anger burned inside Viper, hot and intense, and she watched through narrowed eyes while Rachel stood between Karl and the boy. She couldn't see out of one eye, but her chin pointed upwards and Viper had to admire her obvious commitment to preventing him from laying a hand on the boy.

  “I expect him to shut up when I tell him to,” Karl retorted. “Get out of the way. Or do you want me to close your other eye?”

  “Will that make you feel more like a man?” Rachel shot back, scorn dripping from her lips.

  Viper kept her eyes on the trio in the corner as she swung her legs over the edge of the loft. Reaching down, she undid the holster holding her military knife strapped to her ankle. Marcus caught sight of her then, his eyes getting even wider in his face as he stared at her. Viper raised a finger to her lips before dropping out of the loft and landing softly on the floor below. Neither Karl nor Rachel heard, so intent as they were on each other, and she moved across the floor silently.

  “You can't protect the kid for much longer,” Karl hissed. “Jenaro is taking him with him tomorrow. Then you'll have no purpose here and nothing to bargain with, bitch.”

  Karl raised his fist and Rachel braced herself for the hit.

  It never came.

  Viper clamped two fingers on Karl's shoulder near the base of his neck and swung him around effortlessly, using his own pressure point to propel him around.

  “Why don't you try that with me?” Viper purred, her cold eyes meeting his.

  “What the...who the hell do you think you are?!” Karl demanded.

  “Your worst nightmare.”

  Stephanie pulled into the parking lot behind the Warden's House and slammed on her brakes. Jumping out of the car, she hurried around to the open door of the house and climbed the steps. A policewoman stationed just inside saw her and came forward, holding out her hand.

  “Agent Walker?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “They're right through here,” she told Stephanie with a smile. “They're going to be fine, but the guide is pretty beat up. She wouldn't go to the hospital until you got here.”

  “And the boy?” Stephanie asked, following the policewoman through the front room of the Warden's House.

  “He's frightened and wants his mother, but he's fine,” she said, motioning Stephanie into a small make-shift office.

  Stephanie stepped into the small room and her eyes went straight to the two figures huddled under police blankets, sitting close together on the window seat. The guide had her arm around the boy and their heads were close together. When she entered, Rachel looked up and Stephanie gasped. The pretty young woman whom she had interviewed four days before had disappeared completely. The damage to her face was extensive, leaving her unrecognizable, and if it weren't for her unique, aqua-colored eyes, Stephanie would have questioned if it was even the same woman.

  “Oh my God,” she breathed involuntarily.

  “They won't give me a mirror,” Rachel said ruefully, speaking slowly around her swollen lips. “I guess I don't need one now. Your face says it all.”

  “Who did this?” Stephanie asked, fury making her voice shake as she crossed the small space.

  “Karl,” Rachel answered, squeezing Marcus's shoulders as Stephanie approached. “It's ok, mi cielo, she's a good woman. She is here to help.”

  Stephanie crouched down before Marcus and glanced at Rachel. At her nod, she reached out and took his small, thin hands into hers.

  “Hi Marcus,” she said softly. “We've had a lot of people looking for you. I'm glad you're safe. I'll make sure we get hold of your mom, ok?”

  Marcus raised huge, brown eyes to hers.

  “You'll call my mom?” he asked hopefully.

  “Absolutely,” Stephanie promised. Just as soon as I can get hold of the woman holding her, she added silently.

  “See? I told you she could help,” Rachel told him. She looked at Stephanie through her one good eye. “He's been worried they would hurt her.”

  Stephanie paused, then sighed.

  “They tried,” she admitted softly. Marcus looked at her in alarm and Rachel squeezed his shoulders again. “A very strong woman saved her,” Stephanie told him, squeezing his hands gently. “She put her somewhere safe.”

  “Was it the lady in black?” Marcus asked, his eyes brightening. Stephanie glanced at Rachel uncertainly, but before she could speak, Marcus continued, “She said she knew my mama. She said my mom was brave, almost as brave as me. And she said she would make sure I saw my mama soon.”

  “Lady in black?” Stephanie repeated, looki
ng to Rachel for clarification.

  “She never gave her name,” Rachel told her. “She appeared out of nowhere, in the shed where he kept us. She...well, she stopped Karl from hurting us.”

  “Sounds like the same woman,” Stephanie said dryly, her lips curving. “Scary, intimidating, and not someone you would mess with?”

  “Yes.”

  Gathering from this exchange that Stephanie did, indeed, know the lady in black, Marcus leaned forward, his little body wriggling with excitement.

  “She made Karl stop hurting Aunt Rachel,” he announced confidentially, “and then she went like this,” he chopped his hands in the air dramatically, narrowly missing Stephanie's head, “and he went like this!”

  Marcus jumped up and pushed past Stephanie to stand with his fist raised as he remembered seeing Karl raise his, then he dropped straight back to land flat on his back and lay completely still. Stephanie gasped and moved toward him, but a surprisingly firm hand came down on her shoulder to stop her.

  “He's acting,” Rachel whispered. “He's very good, actually.”

  Stephanie nodded and stopped, watching as Marcus opened one eye to peek at her. When he found her still watching, he grinned a big grin, showing off a wide gap where he was missing a baby tooth, and jumped up.

  “She was awesome!” he cried, his dark eyes shining. “When Karl went down, she turned to Aunt Rachel and made her sit down! Then she came over to me and picked me up and took me outside. The door was locked, but she went right through it. It was magic!”

  “It was?!” Stephanie exclaimed. “How do you think she did it?”

  “I asked her, but she said it was a secret,” he informed her solemnly. “She said it was an ancient secret and if she told anyone, she could die.”

  “I bet it was,” Stephanie murmured, smiling despite herself. “What happened then?”