Last Escape

by Pauline Creeden

  I swiped my cheek on the shoulder of my tank top. I hadn't realized that I'd even been crying until I felt the droplets of tears clinging to my chin. "I know. We'll do our best."

  The momentary deluge lifted, and the rain slowed once more. Seven stood on the dock and shook, throwing droplets of water in every direction.

  Dean's hand slipped from my shoulder and then grasped mine He stepped out into the light rain and tugged on my hand. "Let's go."

  Suddenly I wondered how I could possibly have done this without him. He had as much to lose, if not more, than I did, and yet he jumped into my crazy idea with both feet. How many men would do that? Our feet hit the dock, and mine slid just a bit out from under me. I faltered, but Dean caught me.

  His blue-gray eyes met mine, and my heart skipped a beat. I swallowed as he helped set me right on my feet and released me. Seven pounced on me immediately, her wet paws soaking into my jeans. "Thanks so much, girl. Just what I needed."

  And actually, it was. How could I possibly be thinking about what Dean smelled like or the sparkle in his eyes at a time like this? I marched forward back to the cab. We had work to do, and I couldn't waste time thinking about anything else.

  Chapter 6

  We raced off to Mabel's townhouse and pulled in front of the building. The rain was lightening up, and even the clouds had thinned in the sky. Part of my heart soared, because it meant that rescuing my charges would be easier going. The other part sank, because it also meant that the gang enforcing the purge wouldn't be hindered by the weather conditions any more than I was.

  I jogged up the steps to Mabel's house, Seven by my side. I wasn't going to make the same mistake I'd made when we'd gone to Albert's house. I knocked on the door and the tried the handle, but found it locked. "Mabel? It's Scarlet! Are you in there?"

  I waited several beats and then knocked again. "Mabel?"

  After another half a minute, I prepared to knock a third time only to have the door pulled open. Mabel's tear streaked face came out of the shadows within the home. "Scarlet! Come in quickly. Quickly!"

  She stepped back, allowing me and Seven just enough room to slip inside before she bolted the door closed once more. She stood in front of me in the foyer, hunched, and wringing her hands.

  "What's the matter, Mabel? Is everything all right?"

  She shook her head, her eyes shifting toward the television in her living room. There on the flat screen television stood the governor of Crystal City at a podium with a smile on his face and every lock of his peppered hair waxed into place. "Ladies and gentleman, our purge has been a tremendous success so far. We've calculated that the resources we'll be saving and the purge will not only rescue our budget issues but take care of our overpopulation crises as well. The ejection of the elderly has been enacted swiftly and quietly with the full cooperation of our great citizens. Each of these people are being relocated to a better place."

  Mabel huffed. "A better place?"

  Cold water slipped down my spine once more, and it wasn't just from my hair. When someone died, didn't people always say they went to a better place? Is that what the governor was referring to with his monstrous smile and sweet words? It sickened me and turned my stomach. I shook my head and focused on the elderly woman in front of me. Mabel was much more bent than my other patients. Scoliosis had twisted her spine, and osteoporosis had broken her hip. Mabel was slow and walked with a limp. But in some ways, she was my easiest patient to care for. She was smart as a whip and as quick as one too. Nothing much got by her. Additionally, she was a family friend of my Granny. That made us family, no matter how distant that connection might be.

  "You know what's going on, don't you?" I asked.

  She nodded. "They are calling it a purge, but they are killing everyone." Then her eyes focused on me and went wide. "Winona is gone, isn't she? They took her."

  A sob escaped me, and I couldn't hold it back at all. I shook my head, suddenly unable to speak.

  She patted my arm. Sympathy twisting her usually smooth features. "I'm so sorry to hear that, sweetie. But she loved you and lived a good long life. Don't forget it."

  Mabel had always been astute to the point of being special. She seemed to know things she shouldn't know. I didn't know if I believed in psychic abilities, but my Granny had told me that God sometimes gifted people in different ways. Many of our gypsy relatives had the gift of foresight or even farsight, but neither Granny nor I did. I often wondered about Mabel.

  "Did she give you the Angel Stone?" Mabel asked, taking my hand in two of hers. Her papery soft skin felt so much like Granny's, I wanted her to grip me harder.

  I blinked at her. "Angel Stone?"

  "It's the Roma family blessing. It can give you the powers of the angels when you're in danger."

  I blinked at her, suddenly remembering the fireball and the flaming sword. I shook my head. "But isn't fire of the devil?" I hated to think that way, but the idea that these things were gifts from heaven didn't quite jive with what I felt like I'd learned in church.

  Mabel shook her head, her frown deepening. "Fire is a blessing, child. It brings us warmth. We cook by it. It gives us the light we need to do things by at night. Without fire, we'd be cold, sick, and blind. It is one of the few blessings in life that we have that are, without question, God-ordained."

  I blinked. I'd never thought of it that way before. "My sword was on fire," I blurted out.

  She chuckled. "I bet it was. Did you know that the angel that guarded the Garden of Eden had a flaming sword?"

  I shook my head, blinking at the woman once more. "Really?"

  She nodded and gripped my hand tighter before letting go. "Really."

  "How did you know my granny was gone and that she'd given me the stone?"

  "I foresaw it." Her frown returned, etching lines even deeper into her forehead.

  I shivered. She was psychic after all. How had I missed it all this time? In reality, I knew I hadn't missed it at all, just excused it as her being perceptive and smart. But there had always been a wonder in the back of my mind about whether there was more. I swallowed. None of this was important right now. "Mabel, we need to get you out of here—to safety."

  She smiled sweetly and shook her head. "That's fine, child. But don't waste your time here on me right now. You've got others to save. And that stone to protect."

  I frowned. "What do you mean?"

  "That stone is one of the reasons your Granny was the first attacked by the Wolf gang. They wanted it and they thought she might have it. But they couldn't find it when they went there. The leader of the pack wants it, because he knows its value. He'll use any means to get it, human or otherwise."

  I shivered again. "Otherwise?"

  Mabel nodded. "I know that I'm safe here for now. I foresaw it. You should go and work toward saving the others. Get them all to safety, and then you can come back for me. I'll still be here. I promise."

  I blinked. I suddenly had so many questions, but Mabel was already pushing me toward the door. Seven followed us back to the foyer. "But wait. I'd prefer it if you came with me Mabel. I just don't feel comfortable leaving you here. It can't be safe when those men are out hunting."

  Mabel gave me a soft smile and patted me on the arm again. "Don't worry, child. I have more gifts than just the power to foresee. I have wards of protection surrounding this house. They will only hold up for a little while, but it will be long enough. Go and get the others to safety. If you waste time on me now, you'll only end up following after the Wolves and cleaning up the messes they leave behind. You need to get ahead of them, while you can."

  Her words felt like ice in my veins. I couldn't let the wolves get ahead of me. I needed to stay ahead of them. I nodded and rushed out the door, feeling confidence in the words that Mabel had given me.

  We pulled into the drive of a gated community and showed our IDs to the man who sat in the guardhouse. He waved us in and we started down the long drive into a suburban neighborhood that seemed ou
t of place on the outskirts of Crystal City.

  "Turn here—George lives in that one. Actually, don't pull in. Drive past a little ways, to the next house and we'll back track. If someone shows up, let's not put the spotlight on your cab if possible."

  "That's a smart idea." Dean pulled the cab past the house, parked on the street in front of the next property, and cut the engine. He looked back at the large home and furrowed his brow. "I thought you were paid by the state to help those less fortunate? One of your patients lives here?"

  I nodded. "George is actually a former doctor for the state, and has no children. He was also one of my professors at the community college, too. So I take care of him on the side and he gives me great bonuses for my birthday and Christmas. I'm not entirely sure that the state will target him, unless the other theory of mine is correct and they are seizing property of the elderly as well as taking their lives."

  Dean whistled as he pulled his seat belt free. "Well, this guy George sure has a lot of property to seize, I think."

  The sound of that made my jaw clench. I shook my head and marched toward the front door of George's house, Seven trotting ahead, and Dean following with me. I hit the intercom button when I got to the front door. After a few minutes, the panel above the intercom came on and George appeared on the small screen.

  "Scarlet, is that you?"

  "Hi, George. I'm here with Seven and my friend, Dean."

  "You trust your friend, Dean? I hate to ask, Scarlet, but some strange things have been going on today."

  I frowned. "Yes, I trust him. And that's also why we're here. There are some things we need to talk about."

  He nodded on the small screen and then hit the button. The door to the house beeped and I grabbed the handle to let the three of us inside. The pristine house seemed virtually empty. Normally, George met us at the door. Then the flat screen television kicked on, and George showed up on it as well.

  "Scarlet, come downstairs. I'm in my safe room." Then the screen cut off again.

  "Safe room? Is this guy for real?" Dean asked, his brow furrowing. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. His eyes shifted around the lavish home full of antiques, marble floors and crystal chandeliers. He seemed about as out of place in this extravagant environment as I likely was back when I first started taking care of George.

  "He's for real. George is a bit paranoid... or rather eccentric is what they call them when they're wealthy, right?" I started toward the hall closet and pulled the door open, which lead to a stairwell.

  "I suppose. Weird, paranoid, eccentric... any of those descriptives will work. So what's his story? Do county doctors and college professors really make this kind of money?"

  I flipped on the light and Seven ran ahead down the narrow staircase, her nails clicking on each wooden step. "I'm not sure how much they make, but I know that George also comes from older money. His parents were wealthy, and he was an only child. He's never been married and has no children of his own. He's diabetic, so I come and make sure his insulin levels are normal, and help him stay on a steady diet and exercise program. Much like my own Granny... he's a bit agoraphobic."

  "Hmm," Dean answered.

  We reached the bottom of the stairwell, and two doors stood in front of us. One was padlocked on our side, so I imagined it couldn't be the safe room. I stepped up to the other door. "George, I'm here."

  The door let out a sudden press of air like it had been sealed. The same sort of noise a sealed jar made when it was opened for the first time. The door was several inches thick and definitely made of steel. I smiled. If the Wolf gang had showed up, they weren't going to reach George easily.

  George stepped out from behind the door and ran a hand through his thinning hair. He pushed his glasses up his nose and studied Dean. "He doesn't look much like those other guys at least."

  "Other guys?" Dean asked.

  One nasty habit George had always had as long as I had known him was chewing his fingernails when he was nervous, and right now, his thumb made it to his lips as he spoke. "The guards at the gatehouse had asked if I authorized three hoodlums to come to my house for a visit. They claimed they were from the city, but they didn't have the proper identification or paperwork. They left in an angry fit, saying they would be back and I'd regret not letting them in."

  My frown deepened. "I don't like the sound of that. How long ago was that?"

  "About twenty minutes before you arrived. Since you're on my standing list of visitors, they didn't even contact me when you came. I nearly died of a heart attack when you buzzed my intercom. When I saw it was you and Seven... phew!"

  Over George's shoulder, I peered into his safe room. George was a bit of a computer genius, and had three screens on his computer within. On one wall, a bed and small dresser sat. A shelf with what looked like food and other supplies lined the other wall. I nodded toward the room. "Have you been in your safe room since?"

  He bit the cuticles on his thumb and chewed even more aggressively as his brown eyes peered over his glasses at me. "Honestly, Scarlet, I've taken to spending most of my time in there. I just feel safer. I come out when I know you're coming, or when I need something, but only after scanning all of the video cameras on the property to make sure no one is there."

  Seven rubbed up against his leg. Absentmindedly, George pulled his thumb away and started petting the dog on the head. Blood had spotted around the cuticle he'd been chewing. A couple of band aids hid other injuries to other fingers on both of his hands.

  Upstairs, a loud bang made all of us jump. Seven's hackles raised and she began growling in the direction of the door at the top of the narrow staircase. Thankfully it was closed. How long would it take the gang members to find it... find us?

  George started backing up toward his safe room. I grabbed him by the arm. "Stop. You can't stay in there. It's not safe. Haven't you heard about the city enacting the purge?"

  Through my fingertips on his arm, I could feel George trembling as fear overtook him. "I... I think so. I think I heard about it... on the news."

  I nodded. "Right. This is what the gang members were here for. They were hired by the city to take care of the elderly and purge them. It's just a nice way of saying get rid of them."

  George frowned and shook his head. "But the mayor said that it was just the ones that were a burden to the city. I'm not on the government assistance programs. I'm retired."

  Dean stepped forward. "Do you have a pension?"

  George blinked at him and nodded. "Of course."

  I shivered at the thought. Dean was right. "They might consider the pension as part of the issue in choosing you for the purge. The face of it is to save the city's budget and solve the overpopulation problem. They are saying that the elderly are leaving the city, but they are killing them." I choked down a sob. "They killed my Granny."

  Dean gripped my shoulder then gestured toward the safe room. "They have the power of the government behind them. That safe room won't stop them. And you've got enough supplies in there for what? A week or two? If they don't blast their way in, they'll wait you out. The only safe option is to leave. But if they are already here, I'm not sure how we're going to get past them."

  With a frown, George pointed the small remote control in his hand at the three computer screens over his desk and they kick on, showing six images per screen—camera footage from both inside and outside of the house. None of them showed gang members. In fact, they were suspiciously empty. Then we saw the blur of something animal-like rush in and out of one of the screens. George sucked in a breath. "What on Earth was that?"

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as the brown blur rushed through another of the screens. "We need to get out of here. Like, now."

  George pushed the door to his safe room closed and gave me a nod.

  Dean backed up a step, out of the doorway of the safe room and started toward the stairs.

  George stopped him. "Wait. Not that way. There's another way."

&nb
sp; He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and stepped over toward the other door that was in the wall of the basement. He pushed the key in and unlocked the door.

  Seven darted toward the stairs again, her teeth bared, and a vicious growl shaking her whole body. A snuffling sound made its way down from the door at the top of the stairs.

  My heart pounded in my chest. Whatever that thing was on the video footage had found the stairwell door. The doorknob rattled.

  "This way." George said, and opened the other door, which led into a darkened tunnel. He flipped on a light switch and bars of light turned on, lighting the way through what looked like a mine shaft.

  "Are you for real?" Dean blinked at George.

  I shook my head and pushed on his back. "Don't question it. Just go." My gaze darted over toward my dog. "Seven, come on."

  Seven peered back at me, her tongue lolling as if she didn't just have her teeth bared toward the doorway a moment before. Then she hopped my direction and loped over toward me. Once she reached me, I slipped into the tunnel and pulled the door shut behind me. On the other side, I searched for something to lock it, but found this side of the door bare.

  "Come on, Scarlet. We need to hurry." George called.

  I peered down the tunnel after him and found him jogging ahead of us. Dean stood with Seven a couple of yards away. With a nod, I jogged toward them. Once I caught up with him, Dean jogged beside me.

  "What do you think that thing was?" Dean asked, chewing on his lip again.

  I shook my head. "I have no clue."

  "It didn't look human... but at the same time, it did. Almost like Sasquatch or something."

  A lump formed in my throat. My heart fluttered. Dean was right. That's how I would describe it too. Somehow that thing had made its way into George's house, not caring that it had triggered the silent alarm system. It seemed almost human, but not.

  "It doesn't matter. We just need to get out of here," I said, picking up my pace.