With eyes not quite adjusted to the darkness, it felt as though we were running into an abyss. Our feet crunched over the rocky pathway, leaving no mystery to our whereabouts. The trail was slightly illuminated from the moonlight’s reflection off white gravel, but barely.
I could hear Cody growling. “Can’t outrun them with these.”
“I know. Turn.”
“The bullets,” Cody huffed.
“They didn’t sound right.”
“But why would they use . . . ?”
We veered off the gravel into a clearing in the middle of the evergreens, which students often used for Frisbee golf. On the other side of the clearing, we could connect with the main road. No dorms, residential houses, nothing—out of harm’s way. In fact, the road had deep ditches on the far side. Ditches in which we could barricade ourselves and rain fire on Mitchell and whoever else he’d brought with him.
We hopped in the ditch on the far side of the road.
I unzipped my duffle and pulled out an MP5. “Ammo,” I said.
My phone started pinging, but I ignored it—I knew who it was and what he was probably texting.
Cody was already unzipping an ammunitions bag and loading up the guns. “I swear, if they’re shooting rubbers at us—biggest mistake of their lives.”
A car sped our way from a distance of one hundred yards, its four-way flashers blinking. What did that mean?
“Only if you see a weapon, got it?” I said. “Keep your finger off the trigger. If they’re firing rubbers, then the conductor wants me alive. Let’s keep it that way.”
The car, which had now halved the distance to us, slowed.
Cody cocked his shotgun and pressed into the side of the ditch. I did the same.
“Car isn’t crawling slow for a late-night drive,” Cody said. “It’s looking for us. Who else would know we’re here but him?”
“Not until there’s a weapon,” I repeated.
The car pulled close enough for us to tell its make and model. It was a clunky Corolla with a single person inside. Didn’t fit the bill of someone the conductor would use to chase us down.
The driver hit the brakes. “Get the other guy and get in, Haas,” a voice called.
Who in the world was out at this hour and knew me by name? I glanced back at Cody, then jogged to the driver’s side door, MP5 level in front of me, half expecting to find Alec, the only male student I could think of. But it wasn’t Alec.
“David?” I said. It was the student I’d written up for drinking in public at the orientation fair.
“Yes,” he said. “Would you please lower that?”
I fixed my aim between his eyes, flung open the door, and pulled him out, slamming him against the side. “What are you doing here? How’d you find us?”
He cried out in pain. “What are you—”
“Shut up,” I said as I frisked him.
“Back at the dorms—I was with my girlfriend. I know about the string. Just trying to do something right.”
“There!” a voice cried from the open field we’d crossed. “The car. Hit the tires!”
The thipping and thwacking returned, peppering trees and tearing apart bark behind us. I hit the cement and pulled David down with me, then returned fire, spraying left and right to lay down cover for Cody.
The shots they’d just fired were not rubber baton rounds.
“Get back in!” I yelled at David.
He shot up and dove into the Corolla. I followed, slamming the door behind me.
Cody rammed against the other side of the car for protection, returned a burst of fire, opened the back door, and crammed himself and the duffle bags inside. “Scums tried to kill us!”
I punched the gas as bullets smacked the side of the car.
After picking up steam and turning a corner, taking us out of our pursuers’ line of sight, I shifted to David. “You’re a part of it, now start talking.”
But all I saw in the student’s eyes was pain. David reached across his body, holding his side.
I leaned forward for a look. A baseball-sized crimson stain had blemished his shirt. “Cody, give me your belt.”
14
SUNDAY, 5:57 A.M.
Tires screeched against asphalt as I whipped into the emergency room portico of Saint Mary’s Hospital, where I hoped Janet and Alec were still holed up in the cafeteria.
I swung my head around to Cody. “Go find Janet and Alec.”
He exited the car, leaving the door open. I helped David out and held him up as a nurse came running out of the double doors.
“I’ll get the stretcher,” she said, turning around and shouting for more help.
I pulled out my phone and read texts the conductor must have sent after we broke protocol with the guns.
First Janet and Alec, now Cody and Golden Boy Haas. What am I to do?
That’s the beauty of the string, Markus. I am to do nothing. The string is about to do everything.
Even the strongest break. The better question may be: How much can you take?
My mind raced through what had happened on Stephanie’s property. Members of the string had been tasked with distracting me, then Serge had given his life crashing a van into Alec’s car. What had it taken for him to do that?
The conductor had already recruited Mitchell and probably other officers. Who was he about to unleash on us now—and with what as leverage?
I shook my head. Hated thinking about it.
A minute later, Cody, Janet, and Alec came bursting through the ER doors.
“Is he okay?” Janet said, running up to the car just as two paramedics took David and hoisted him onto a stretcher.
“In the car, Haas,” Cody said, holding up a piece of paper with an address. “She found him.” He shook it violently. “She found him and we’re going to kill him.”
“What?” I hustled back to the driver’s side and plopped behind the wheel. Cody got in the passenger seat.
Janet followed me and leaned down to look at me. The duffle bags drew her gaze. “You got them. What happened?”
“We slipped his guys—Trenton badges—but more are coming, Janet, be sure of that. Don’t trust anyone. He’s leveraging the string against the string, threatening people with . . . only God knows what. Cody and I are going after him now. If you hear from him, just—don’t let him win.” I tossed my head toward the hospital. “The kid was there at the orientation fair. Find out how he’s involved and assume the conductor has manipulated him, got it?”
She nodded.
I gripped the steering wheel and exhaled slowly. “The kid may have also just saved our lives. He’ll need someone by his side if that’s true.”
“The address is for the World War II armory owned by campus,” Janet said.
I knew the place she spoke of. It was a castle-like structure the university had inherited and now used for storage, chairs mostly. University police took turns checking the building every time spring graduation rolled around when extra seating was needed. If someone knew how to get inside, it would be a perfect place to hide out, film videos . . . take prisoners.
“I don’t know if it’s right,” Janet said.
“It’s right.”
Alec jogged up next to Janet and opened the back door. “I did a feature on that building—I’m coming with.”
I glanced at Janet, then back at Alec. It was better that he stay with her than risk getting in my and Cody’s way. “You’re more needed here.”
“You don’t get it.” Alec’s feverish eyes darted between Cody and me. “Story took me two weeks to write. I know every inch of that place. Imagine World War II indoor target practice, thousands of women volunteers doing aerial surveillance on a chalkboard, a roller rink, school dances, basketball games, and musical theater all mashed together in one blob of a structure—then wrap it all in cobwebs, graffiti, and odd cosmetic demolitions. It’s a maze and a house of horrors all in one. If he’s there, you’ll need me if you want to find him. I
even know how to get in the back without a key. I’m coming.”
I wasn’t going to waste any more time arguing.
I watched in the rearview mirror as Janet walked back into the hospital while we drove away. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the string ran through every floor of that hospital, just waiting for its opportunity to strike.
The conductor, shrouded in darkness, appeared to Janet in a memory from the computer lab, leaning over her, ripping at her clothes.
She tried shaking the thoughts away as she strode to David’s room, unsure of what to do or expect until Markus, Cody, or Alec contacted her. Could they contact her? She supposed she could track Markus’s phone, should she need to find them. But if it reached the point of her searching for them, then wouldn’t the conductor and his string have already won?
She’d never had problems standing up to anyone. She’d encountered plenty of twisted cybercriminals throughout her career, but this burrowed into horrific depths she’d never thought possible. True evil. And it was squeezing the lifeblood out of her.
What if the conductor had gotten bored of Markus? Hired someone to walk up behind him—and Cody and Alec, for that matter—and stick a knife in his back? Where would she go if she were the last of the string trying to break it? When would the conductor come for her or her sister—or would he just let the string perform his violence for him?
She wished she could go to Lucy’s side this moment, but she was committed to Markus and their plan to stop the conductor. If finding out what David knew and also protecting him was a part of that plan, then she would stay.
Janet tapped on the door to David’s room and pushed inside. The hospital room looked like most: fake wooden floors, an enormously clunky bed that looked like it belonged on a spacecraft, a sink, two chairs, and a fake plant.
David stirred and opened his eyes. A tremor seemed to course through his body at the sight of her.
Janet needed to calm him and take the lead. “David, I’m a friend of the men you rescued. Sort of.” She checked the time on her phone. “We all met yesterday.”
“I need my phone,” David said groggily. His breath smelled like one might expect from a disheveled student.
“Why?”
“I need to know if he knows.”
Janet stepped to the windowsill where his belongings lay: cell, wallet, clothing. “He—the conductor.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, give me my phone.” David was in no mood for chatting.
Janet handed him his phone and he unlocked it. His mouth trembled and his eyes widened. He flexed his fingers around his phone, pressing it to his chest.
Even though his circumstances warranted it, he was a bit of a drama queen. “What’s it say?”
He turned his phone toward her. The conductor’s text read:
You were such a good boy at first.
Why stop so suddenly, try to break my string?
You know what this means.
“I got this over an hour ago.” David’s bated breath seemed to pump shivers down his arms and legs. He tossed his sheets to the side and tried to swing his legs over the bed. “I have to get out of here; he’ll find me.”
“Stop, just stop. We have to outsmart him, not outrun him.” Janet’s mind shifted to her sister, who was just a level up from them in the hospital. The conductor hadn’t done anything to her, either by choice or because his string couldn’t penetrate through hospital security. Either way, it seemed rushing out of here was ill-advised. “We’re in a hospital, not the easiest place to off someone.” She spoke with some bite. “Tell me how you got looped into this. Markus and Cody are going after the conductor right now. You’re not his biggest problem.”
He pushed himself up against his pillows. “Guy gives me a video out of nowhere, shows me photos of my parents at work, at home . . .” He choked back tears. “Then a live video—him walking up to my mom as she was getting home from work, shaking her hand as if he were new to the neighborhood, and my mom just smiled and went inside.” He took a deep breath. “The guy walked to a parked car,” he said flatly, gaze directed straight ahead, “opened the trunk, and let the camera linger there.”
Janet kept herself perfectly still. “And?”
David’s gaze fell to his lap. “A saw, some shackles . . . and my dad—just stuffed in there like a box of groceries.”
Janet covered her mouth with one hand. She knew she had to ask him what the conductor had forced him to do, but she was relieved when he continued without prompting.
“At first he told me to act drunk at orientation to distract the cop. But the texts kept coming. I’m a med student, so . . .” Fresh tears welled in his eyes and his face stretched taut. “He made me—” David appeared about to hyperventilate.
“Calm down. Made you what?”
“Cut open the university police chief, drop a tiny canister in him . . . sew him back up.”
Janet grimaced.
Then recognition struck: those photos she’d seen had been of Jackson Renfroe.
“I couldn’t just leave him, so I sat outside the gym after the game was over, waited there for hours to make sure he was okay, until he finally must’ve woken from whatever coma the conductor had put him in.”
“What then?”
“The conductor had me leave a tablet with him, so I knew the chief had become part of the game. I tried to get up the courage to tell him what I’d done, and, I don’t know . . . help him. But I just went back to my dorm, grabbed my stash, and started making the pain go away. That’s when I saw Haas and some other law enforcement guy—Cody, I guess—running from masked men with guns. Bullets were fired, and I just drove until I found them.”
“Why would you do that?”
David’s head dipped. “Because I brought Haas into the string and I haven’t been any help to anyone since it started.” He shook his head and allowed a chuckle. “My stash always makes me feel invincible.”
Janet put a firm hand on his knee. “You did the right thing helping Cody and Markus.”
A nurse, no older than thirty, stepped into the room. David tensed but tried to play it cool.
“Hi there, sorry, didn’t know Mr. Kilpatrick had a visitor. You’re a lucky one—doc said the bullet only grazed you.”
Janet eyed the nurse as if he were a predator.
“I, uh . . . just have to check in on how he’s doing.”
Janet leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Good. We don’t want anything else happening to David. He’s a special young man, you know—going to get his medical license. May even work here one day, conducting this, conducting that.” She watched the nurse’s body language.
Had he stuttered just a bit?
She pointed at the nurse’s clipboard. Might as well go all in. “How long is that string of boxes you’re checking, by the way? We were in the middle of a private conversation.”
The nurse gave her an edgy smile. “I’ll be out of here soon. Just a couple more things to check.” He turned his back to her.
Janet didn’t like that she couldn’t see his hands. She took a couple of steps toward him, keeping an eye on David, who was gripping his bedsheets and pulling them over himself as if they were a shield.
The nurse reached for something in his pocket and Janet did the only thing that came to mind. She grabbed a dirty plate. Tucked it close to her like a Frisbee.
The nurse, flipping through pages in his notebook, turned to his side, pen in hand, and glanced at Janet. “Oh. Want me to take that?”
The steam she’d built up deflated, and she nodded and handed him the plate.
The nurse said all looked good for David—no complications from the wound. He stepped out of the room, door clicking shut behind him.
David turned to Janet and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.
“Hey, I’m not going anywhere until I hear from Markus or Cody.” She glanced at the room’s doorway and then the window. “And if I leave this building, you’re coming with me. G
ot it?” It seemed the best thing she could do now was keep David calm. “I spotted a vending machine a stone’s throw away. I’m going to freshen up, then get some 7UP. What suits you?”
“Mountain Dew, thanks, and anything with cheese.”
“Done and done.”
Janet moved to the room’s sink and splashed water on her face. It had been some time since she’d pulled an all-nighter. But fatigue hadn’t really set in. Her mind had been pumping adrenaline nonstop since the explosion. She turned back to David, who was staring at his phone. “Hey, best not use that. Trust me. I’m the one who helped set up his surveillance.”
David set the phone down.
“Any last snack requests?”
He shook his head.
Janet left the room and pulled the door closed. She glanced down each hallway and then at the nurses’ station across the hall. Empty. She walked quietly down the echoing hallway until she reached a small sitting room that branched off from the main corridor. She could see David’s room from here.
But in order to buy something from the vending machine, she’d lose visibility of his room. It was only a few seconds, though. She was being paranoid.
With a jump in her step, Janet ducked into the vending area and bought David’s Mountain Dew first. As the machine’s gears groaned, she peeked back around the corner. No movement. No one lingering or pretending to look busy. Up next were the cheese puffs.
Janet sidestepped back to the machine and swiped her card again. The groaning commenced once more, and this time she reached into the receptacle bin so she could catch the puffs and be on her way. Why did the gears and corkscrews turn so slowly? She wouldn’t spend another second waiting on the 7UP.
Loot now in hand, she quickly stepped back into the hallway, making eye contact with a nurse before looking away. Just normal people, Janet. Get a grip.
She twisted the door handle to David’s room and pushed.
A middle-aged doctor with white hair and leathery skin was saying, “You’ll just feel a—”
“Don’t!” Janet yelled, dropping the snacks.
The doctor turned around. “Excuse me?” The look on his face was that of a man who had pulled far too many doub-les.
The String Page 13