“Yes, much happier,” he replied. “But I seem to be out of sake.”
CHAPTER 82
Montana
Carrie jerked awake. Confused, it took her a moment to get her bearings. She was in the dark, but she felt safe. She was in a bed of fresh cotton sheets. To her right, a thin strip of light from the hallway slipped beneath the bottom edge of the door. Beyond, other sounds filtered into the room: muffled voices, the squeak of rubber-soled shoes on linoleum, and a persistent, steady beeping from down the hall.
The hospital, she thought as fragments of the night before began to come back to her. She remembered being attacked at the motel, and she seemed to remember riding in a car, but it was all such a blur it seemed less real than the dream that had just awakened her.
It must be near morning. Her bleary eyes slowly adjusted to the wan glow bathing the room in a palette of muted blues and grays. She looked to the window and was startled to see someone slouching in the chair next to her bed, asleep. Her heart leapt and thumped against her chest. She grabbed for the call button, but before she could press it, she recognized who it was.
It was Kyle. He was too tall for the chair. He had slumped down in it until he was in danger of falling to the floor. His head leaned against his left shoulder in what appeared to be the most uncomfortable position imaginable. His clothes were rumpled and filthy, his hair stuck out in every direction. The sight of him caused a relieved smile to cross her face. It was both touching and comforting to have him there beside her. It was something she hadn’t felt in a long time.
He mumbled something, his head lolling about as he spoke in his dreams. This continued for several moments, and he gradually became more and more animated, his head tossing back and forth and his voice rising until he suddenly woke with a start.
“Bad dream?” Carrie asked softly.
Kyle shook his head to clear the cobwebs and blinked several times before his eyes appeared to focus on her. “No,” he muttered. “God, how I wish that were true.” He leaned back, looked up at the ceiling, and sighed deeply.
“What’s wrong?” Carrie asked, although she was suddenly afraid of the answer.
Without answering, Kyle asked, “How are you?”
“Fine, I think, aside from a splitting headache.”
“Hangover from the chloroform, I guess,” he said. He took a deep breath and leaned forward, looking at her through the bed rails. “How much of last night do you remember?”
“Not much,” she admitted. “I remember someone grabbing me in my room and then … you in the car. That’s about it.”
Kyle nodded. “I got to your room just as you were being attacked. The guy hit me and took off. As he ran, he shot Lewis.”
Carrie struggled to piece together the events of last night, but there was nothing there. “I don’t remember any of it,” she said. “Is Lewis all right?”
Kyle shook his head and looked at the floor. “Lewis is dead.”
Oh, God, no.
“I am so sorry,” she said, her voice trembling. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision of him, but he didn’t respond. He just sat there, staring at the floor.
She slipped her left hand, the hospital’s plastic ID band on her wrist, between the bed rails. After a brief moment, Kyle took her hand. She squeezed it gently and held on as he squeezed back. Neither one spoke.
Carrie’s heart broke for him. It was obvious he had been hit hard by the loss. She wished there was something more she could do for him, but all she could think to do was to keep holding on to him.
“After I brought you and Lewis to the hospital, I called the sheriff and told him what had happened. When the men got to your room, your computer was gone.”
Carrie felt horrible. It was as if he was confessing his failures to her. “It’s all right,” she said. “It had already been wiped out. Kyle, if you hadn’t come to my room, I wouldn’t be here now. You saved my life.” But then she remembered that if it hadn’t been for her, Lewis wouldn’t be dead. “Oh, God, Kyle, I didn’t mean—”
“It gets worse,” Kyle interrupted. “Agents found your friend Charlie dead on his sofa. A syringe was found next to him. They say it looks like a drug overdose.”
No, no, no. Not Charlie. Her heart caught in her chest. “Charlie never did drugs. They killed him just like they tried to kill me. Those bastards,” she cried. “He was just a kid. A sweet, innocent kid.” Racked with guilt and full of anger, her grip on Kyle’s hand tightened until the muscles in her arm trembled from the effort. Kyle held on, his grip strong and firm without ever hurting.
She reached out with her right hand. Kyle stood and leaned against the rail. As she reached around him, he put his arm around her and held her while she cried into his shoulder.
It felt good to be held like that. She never wanted to let go. She wished time would stop so she could stay there forever, sheltered from all the pain and loss and loneliness of the outside world. But she knew it couldn’t last. It never did.
After she cried herself out—and even though she didn’t want to—she forced herself to let go. Leaning back, she asked, “What now?”
Kyle looked at her without speaking. He just looked into her eyes. She began to feel warm inside. Maybe she was wrong. Even if it wasn’t forever, maybe having someone to hold on to just for now was good enough. Someone to help shut out the rest of the world for even a short time. She was about to reach out for him again when he pulled several tissues from the box next to the bed and handed them to her.
“I don’t know,” he said.
CHAPTER 83
Myles Bennett woke with a start, the remnants of a scream echoing in his head. Somehow, he must have dozed off. He looked around the cabin. Things appeared unchanged. Ramirez was still propped up in the corner. The FTU’s alarm system remained silent.
He got up to check on Ramirez. The sound of the chair scraping against the wooden floor woke the young man. Wide-eyed, he looked at Myles and then settled back down when he recognized him.
“How’s your head?” Myles asked.
“Hurts. Bad,” Ramirez whispered. His eyes closed sleepily.
He checked Ramirez’s pulse and pressure again and frowned at the readings. Not good. They were elevated from the last time, which could indicate a subdural hematoma. He needed medical attention immediately. But how?
Myles returned to the FTU and called up the operating system. For almost half an hour, he tried to find a way to bypass the code, but it was no use. He was locked out.
Outside, it was nearing dawn, the cracks around the boarded windows slowly fading from black to purple. It should be safe now. If any of the creatures still remained, they would have returned to their roost by now. But it was a long way to the Spotted Bear Ranger Station. There was no way he could make it with Ramirez.
Quickly, before he could change his mind, Myles began gathering the items he would need for the trip, hastily shoving them into his pack—medical supplies, water bladders, and a couple of MREs. He would have to travel light. It was a long way, and if he didn’t make it out of the wilderness by dark—
He zipped up the pack and was reaching for his helmet when he heard a sharp cha-click behind him.
“Where you think you’re goin’?” Ramirez asked, his voice slurred.
Myles turned around to find a Glock 9mm pointed at him, which nearly caused his bowels to let go right then. “I, uh … I was just going to try to get help,” he stammered. “I’ve tried everything. There’s no way to override the com system.”
“Not without me,” Ramirez said.
“It’s a long hike. I … I don’t think you can make it in your condition,” Myles said, his eyes never leaving the gun. In Ramirez’s state, he feared it might go off at any moment.
“You’re going to help me.”
“But it would be much faster if I went alone,” Myles said. “I swear I’ll come back with help.”
“Not without me,” Ramirez repeated.
“Okay,
okay,” Myles conceded, trying to remain calm. He didn’t dare risk antagonizing him further. “Just let me get some more supplies, and we’ll be on our way.”
Myles gathered up a few more water bladders and MREs and added them to his pack. When he tried to lift it, he winced. It was so heavy. He had never been the athletic type, and now, not only was he going to have to try to lug it for miles in the snow, but he was going to have to help Ramirez as well. He would never make it. In an effort to reduce the weight, he took out most of the water bladders. As he did, he saw the case with the tranquilizer syringes. He snuck a glance over at Ramirez, who was carefully watching him.
“It’s too heavy,” Myles explained nervously as he zipped up the pack. “If we have to, we’ll eat snow.”
Ramirez nodded. He sat up slowly and then weakly dropped his legs over the side and sat there, clutching the edge of the bed.
There’s no way we’re going to make it, Myles thought. If Ramirez’s injuries were as bad as he feared, Myles wondered just how far they would get before he faltered. And if he did, he would have to leave him behind. He just hoped Ramirez retained enough of his senses to let him go. If not, then he would be forced to try using the syringes—an option he did not relish.
As Myles helped Ramirez to his feet, he tried not to think about what lay ahead. It was going to be a long, painful day. Progress would be slow at best, and the chances of making it to the ranger station by dark were slim, with dire consequences awaiting them if they failed.
But Ramirez had left him with no other choice.
CHAPTER 84
There was a light rap on the door. It opened, and Sheriff Greyhawk stepped into the room.
Good thing he didn’t arrive about two minutes ago, Kyle thought.
The sheriff greeted them with a nod and then looked to Carrie. “How are you?” he asked.
“Okay, I guess,” she replied.
Not one for small talk, the sheriff just nodded and turned to Kyle. “Hank Gullickson with the Forest Service called me this morning,” he said quietly. “He told me an unidentified helicopter was flying down Hungry Horse Reservoir just after dark last night.”
“Do you think there’s any significance to it?” Kyle asked.
“It’s suspicious. It was blacked-out and flying fast at low altitude. Hank tried to radio them but got no response. He said it was big, probably military. He thought it might be a Blackhawk.”
“Has anyone tried to verify this?” Kyle asked.
“I informed Agent Marasco, but he didn’t seem concerned about it,” the sheriff replied. The tone of his voice made it clear he didn’t agree with Marasco.
“I’ll call SAC Geddes and let her know,” Kyle said. “We’ll see what she wants to do.”
Carrie kicked the sheets off her legs and got out of the bed. Holding the back of her hospital gown closed, she stepped over to the small closet by the bathroom.
“What are you doing?” Kyle asked.
“I’m getting dressed. Don’t you see? This is our chance to get the proof we need. We’ve forced their hand. They know we’re on to them. That’s why they killed Charlie and came after me. And now they’re trying to retrieve their monster and get rid of it before anyone can prove it exists. Why else would the military be in the area?”
“There could be a lot of reasons,” Kyle replied.
“Yeah, like what?”
“I don’t know,” Kyle said, exasperated. “That’s why I’m calling Seattle.”
“But by then, it will be too late.”
“And just what would you suggest be done differently?” Kyle asked.
“I say we go up there and catch them red-handed.”
“What? Just how do you think you would do that?”
“By getting photos, evidence, eyewitness accounts. I don’t know—something.” She pulled out her suitcase, which had been brought to the hospital by Deputy Johnson, and started digging through it.
“Carrie, you’re not thinking this through,” Kyle said, trying to reason with her. “You can’t just go marching up there, hoping to take a few pictures and solve everything. This thing, if it really exists, has already killed a lot of people. What makes you think the same thing won’t happen to you?” He didn’t want to seem callous, but she was making no sense at all. He looked to the sheriff for support, but the sheriff remained stone-faced.
“Because we know what we’re dealing with,” she replied, pulling out a pair of jeans. “And even if we don’t manage to get pictures of it, at least we can document the military’s involvement in the area. Anything we find will be better than what we’ve got now. I’m not just going to sit here and let them get away with this.”
“Even if you did manage to find out what they’re doing up there, do you really think they would just let you walk out with the proof?” He couldn’t believe he was even arguing with her.
“That’s why we have to be careful,” she replied.
She had said it several times already, but this time, it caused Kyle to stop. “We?” he asked, his brows knitting with suspicion. “What do you mean … we?”
Carrie looked at him, a hurt expression on her face. “I just assumed you would go with me. Don’t you care about what they did to Lewis?”
“That’s unfair,” Kyle said. He knew what she was trying to do, and he was determined not to let her guilt him into a foolish decision. “You know I care, but running off into the forest isn’t going to solve anything. Besides, there are agents coming in from Seattle. I can’t just run off like that.”
“So what do you expect me to do? Just sit here while they sweep it all under the rug?” she shouted. “I’m not going to do that. First my grandparents, then Charlie, and now Lewis are all dead because of these people, and I’m not going to let them get away with it!” Her bottom lip trembled as she struggled to keep from breaking down again. Tears filled her eyes as she grabbed her clothes and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Kyle sighed, running his hand through his hair in frustration. He knew Carrie was reacting emotionally, but he didn’t know how to stop her. She wasn’t a suspect, so there was no reason to detain her. He couldn’t just ask the sheriff to cuff her to the bed. Nor could he let her go alone. If she persisted in going without him and something were to happen to her, he would never forgive himself.
“What do you think?” Kyle asked the sheriff.
“I think she is a very determined young woman,” the sheriff replied stoically.
“No kidding,” Kyle agreed. “But what do you think about her plan?”
“It’s risky, and I don’t think the chance for success is very high. But I agree with her. Something must be done. That’s why I will go with you.”
“You?” Kyle said, shocked by his response. “Why?”
“Because I have seen what this thing has done to the people of the Flathead, and I, too, have reasons for not trusting the government. I think it is better to learn the truth oneself than to have it told to me. Besides, it is obvious that she is going, and you are going to go with her. The two of you would not survive alone. I’m familiar with the area and the dangers involved. If you are to have any chance of success, I must go with you.”
Kyle sat there for a moment, stunned. Am I that transparent? he wondered. Or is the sheriff really that perceptive? Either way, it didn’t really matter. The sheriff was right. Kyle just hoped he wasn’t that transparent to Carrie.
The bathroom door opened, and Carrie stepped out. “Well?” she asked.
Kyle looked at the sheriff, who nodded his approval. “All right, but the sheriff is coming with us.”
“Oh, thank you,” Carrie said as she hurried across the room and gave him a big hug.
CHAPTER 85
It was nearing dawn, the skies lightening just enough to reveal the mottled, steel-gray clouds hanging low over the valley. The weather forecast called for three to six inches of snow in the valley with accumulations of one to two feet in the mountains. It was
n’t a major concern for Nathan, but it was something to stay aware of. If it snowed enough to shut down the airport, he might be forced to stay a few days longer than he planned—a complication he’d just as soon avoid. He didn’t like staying in town any longer than absolutely necessary. It gave the authorities more time to organize a search, increasing his chances of being caught.
Nathan watched as several more people emerged from the hospital. It was hard to make a positive ID from this distance. He took what looked like an oversized, soft-grip Bic pen from his pocket. He then pulled off the cap, unscrewed the tip, and held it up to his eye. Inside, it was a night-vision monocular with six times magnification. With it, he was able to identify the men as a couple of local cops and an unknown deputy. Following close behind were two other men: Deputy Johnson and FBI Agent Marasco.
“Bingo,” Nathan whispered when he saw the mole.
He watched patiently. They might just be stepping out for a smoke or heading home to catch a few hours of sleep and a shower. Hopefully, they weren’t both on their way to the justice center. The mole would be easier to handle if he were alone. If necessary, he would do them both.
They paused under the porte cochere, talking among themselves and looking out at the overcast skies. Nathan wished he had a shotgun microphone with him, but he had been forced to travel light.
The two cops left while Johnson and Marasco continued to speak with the other deputy. Marasco pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit up. A short while later, the unknown deputy went back in the hospital. Johnson and Marasco began making their way toward the parking lot.
Damn. It appeared as though they were leaving together.
But when they reached the first row of the parking lot, which had a half-dozen spaces reserved for law enforcement, they split up, Johnson getting into a Flathead County Yukon, Marasco into a black Expedition.
Nathan drove slowly, watching as the two vehicles wove through the lot to the exit onto Highway 93. The vehicles pulled up to the stop sign, the Expedition in front and the Yukon behind. Both vehicles signaled left, toward downtown.
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