Grunting, his father started working his way towards the ledge, dragging his bad leg. In a soft voice, he asked, “Is she here, son? Is Sarah in here?”
Richard said, “Stay back! The ledge is dangerous. And she’s not in here, there’s nothing in here, I told you.” His voice was harsh. “If you want to take a trip down the ledge to see what’s down there, be my guest. Be sure to send me a postcard from hell.”
His dad sighed. “Fine, fine.” He groaned, softly. “Can you shine that thing on my leg again? You bound it too tight. It hurts bad, son.”
Richard shone the light back to his father’s injured ankle. It was swelling, and the gauze was saturated with blood.
“I didn’t wrap it too tight. You’re still bleeding!”
He wondered if the gash had gone clear to the bone. Even distrustful as he was of his father, Richard felt a pang of sympathy—and worry. “We need to rewrap it,” he said.
“You got more of that stuff?”
“No. But I got an extra t-shirt.”
Richard pulled the shirt from the pack. He had to hand it to Tex and Angel. They certainly knew how to fill a backpack. They’d thought of everything. He made cuts in the shirt with his army knife, and then tore it into strips. After unwinding the bloodied gauze, he quickly dabbed the blood and doused the wound again with the spray—making his father curse at the pain. Then, still moving fast, he wound strips of the shirt around the ankle, and taped it up with surgical tape. The area felt swollen and hot to the touch, but there was nothing he could do about that.
Another sound came from the tunnel, this time closer than before. “Can I borrow that light?” His dad asked. “I want to look over the ledge.”
“Why? You can’t see anything. You think we haven’t tried to look down there?” He was afraid his father would spot the ladder, though it was so close up against the wall of dirt that it was unlikely; still, he didn’t want to risk it.
“You know how it is, son,” he said, nonchalantly. “Sometimes we just need to see things for ourselves.”
“I’m not giving up my only light.”
“What?” He feigned surprise. “You mean you don’t have something better in that mighty pack of yours? Seems like you got a whole lot of provisions in there—you sure there isn’t a real flashlight or battery lantern?” The tone was almost jeering, reminding Richard that he was right to distrust the man. His memories said this was his dad; his gut said it was a cold-blooded killer.
“No.”
His father sighed but once again began to maneuver himself forward, moving with his hands, still dragging his bad leg.
“If you fall off that ledge,” Richard warned, “Don’t expect me to save you. I’m not risking my life to save your sorry neck.”
His father stopped. Richard heard him heave himself back, still on his haunches. He worked his way back until he was again near Richard. He seemed to be breathing hard. “Look, Richard—if you don’t want to take me to Sarah, okay, okay, I can understand that. But bring her to me. You can do that, can’t you?”
He studied his father in the narrow beam of light. His eyes, almost slits, revealed nothing.
“I don’t know. I’d have to find her, first.”
“You said you knew she was safe! You can only know that if you know where she is!”
Here was the real man coming through, his anger so near the surface he couldn’t keep it down. After a minute—when Richard didn’t answer—his father added, softly, “They’re close, aren’t they?” He leaned his head back against the wall, but quickly yanked it away. “The wall’s hot!”
Richard felt helpless and angry. The hallway paneling must have burned away by now. Would the secret door be revealed?
In a lower voice, as if he understood Richard’s feelings, his father said, “I’m sorry, son.”
Richard didn’t believe for a moment he was sorry. He kept his light towards the man, somehow feeling he needed to keep an eye on him. His father scooted forward enough to lay flat on the ground; he closed his eyes. Richard suspected he wasn’t feeling well. The gash might lead to an infection...but that probably wouldn’t develop for hours, yet. In any case, the injury was taking its toll.
“I get the feeling they’re close….realllllll close.” He cocked open one eye and studied his son. “They’re probably down here somewhere, huh? You say there’s water down there—I don’t hear any water. I say there’s a tunnel or something.” He nodded his head towards the drop. “If I could walk, I’d go exploring.”
“You’d take a nice fall,” Richard said. “I’d think you’d want to put that off.”
His father peered at him. “What d’you mean?”
“Taking that fall. It’ll lead ya to hell. You’re heading that way anyhow, but why take the express?” His voice held all the studied nonchalance that his father used.
“Well, I didn’t raise a fool, anyway.” His dad closed his eyes. “I’m glad to know you’re no fool, Richie.” His father was the only one to call Richard by the shortened name. Somehow, it made Richard angrier.
“Don’t call me Richie,” he ground out.
His father cocked an eye open. “I’ve always called you that—.”
“Yeah, when you were Dad. Stop calling me that.”
Now both eyes were opened. “Richard, I’m your father. And I’m telling you, I will not rest until I see my daughter. Take me to her.”
“Not an option.”
“I know they’re close!” he said, almost yelling, now.
“Keep it down! What if those guys are waiting in hearing distance? You want to lead the soldiers right to us?”
“They aren’t coming back. They’re long gone...” His dad looked away, but his face was hardened, his mouth set in a thin, tight line. “Listen. You will show me where my daughter is. I have the right to see her. I’m not asking you, Richard, I’m telling you. Show me where she is. You have to.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” Richard said. “I don’t even know you.”
His father stared at Richard. After a tense silence that lasted seconds but felt much longer to Richard, he blew out a breath and shook his head.
“Okay, I get it.” Loudly, he said, “You’re a man, now! Your own man. You don’t take orders, right?”
Richard said nothing. Grim-faced, he listened. He was sorry he’d shown himself to his father. This man, this conniving, manipulative man was a stranger to him. He wished he hadn’t discovered the change in him, that he could remember him the way he used to be. It was better not to know what had happened to him than to discover the reality.
It was his own fault. He’d gone against Tex and insisted on seeing his father. One thing was sure: he would never reveal Sarah, or the McAllisters. It might come to a battle between him and his father but he wouldn’t drag the others into it.
Another sound came from the tunnel, this one right below them. A timid voice, just loud enough for them both to hear: “Dad? Is that you?”
Richard’s heart sank.
It was Sarah.
chapter 45
RICHARD
“Sarah! Sarah, baby!” cried his father, coming sharply to attention. “Where are you, baby?”
“I’m coming, Dad!” she cried.
Richard scrambled to the ledge and crouched at the top, peering over. He saw a glimmer of light below, rising higher. “Don’t!” he cried. “Why did you come?”
The light wavered. “I want to see Dad, too!”
“It’s not Dad!”
“Don’t listen to Richard!” cried their dad, who was now on his hands and knees, dragging his bad leg. He reached the edge and peered over. Seeing the faint light, he called, encouragingly, “C’mon, baby! It’s Daddy!”
The light began rising again and Richard hissed, “It’s a trap, Sarah! We can’t trust him!” He hoped that would stop her from coming up, but as he watched, a sudden sharp blow to his arm almost sent him reeling over the ledge.
“Shut up! You’re scaring
her! I want to see my daughter!”
Grimacing, Richard yelled, “Did you hear that? He punched me! This man claiming to be our father! He’s a cutthroat—.” His father shoved him so hard that his upper body appeared over the edge.
Sarah screamed. “Richard!”
“Don’t make me do this, son, to my own flesh and blood—.”
“Run, Sarah!” Richard cried.
“Leave him alone!” she screamed. She’d switched off her light, but her voice, clear and distraught, was now close.
“Don’t worry about me!” Richard growled. “Just get out of here. Set the traps as you go. He’s injured but if he tries to follow, they’ll get him!”
“The traps?” Sarah asked, in a troubled tone. Richard sighed inwardly. Oh, Sarah! He’d made that up about there being traps to deter his father from following her if he somehow managed to get down the ladder.
“How is he injured?” she asked.
“I need you, baby! Richard hurt my leg! Almost cut off my foot!”
“It wasn’t me!” Richard cried. “His foot got stuck in the door!”
“Come on up here,” crooned their father. “Richard’s been on the road too long. He’s skewed in his thinking, sweetheart. I want to tell you, I am so happy that you’re alive!” Sarah said nothing, so he continued, “I’m sorry about your mother. About Jesse. I wish I could have done something— ”
“Why didn’t you?” she asked.
“Sarah, go back!” Richard repeated, through gritted teeth.
His father threw his weight across him, pinning him down. “I gotcha, Richie.”
When he felt ready, he’d fight his way off but not until the man was good and distracted. He didn’t want to find himself head first at the bottom of the pit. He’d wait for the right moment. But if Sarah came up—he tried not to contemplate it.
“Why didn’t you come back?” Sarah asked.
“Let me see you. Let me see your face, baby. I’ll explain everything.”
“Don’t call me baby,” she said, petulantly. “You never used to, so don’t do it, now.”
“All right, all right; I see you two have grown up on me. I’m proud of you—.”
“Don’t believe him!” Richard cried. His father raised a hand to strike him but thought better of it. Sarah switched her tiny flash light back on—and caught the movement. Just as her father turned and saw her alarmed face—in that same split-second—she turned off the light and began descending back the way she’d come.
“I’m sorry, baby! I mean—Sarah! I just want to see you so badly! Richard’s got some crazy ideas in his head—I don’t know why.”
“He shot his friend right in front of me!” Richard called, and this time Sarah heard the sound of an unmistakable blow and Richard’s helpless grunt as he took it.
“Leave him alone!” she screamed, stopping on the ladder.
“You come on up here,” returned her father, in a calm, cold voice. “And I’ll leave him alone. But I can’t let him keep me from seeing you. Can you understand that? I need you to see me, honey. I need you to know I’m still your father. I’m sorry for everything that’s happened! Wish I could take it back, do things over.”
“Like, starting with that punch to your son?” Sarah’s voice was strident.
“Honey—this boy is deranged or something. I am still your father —and his. He needs to understand that.”
“You never hit us before,” she said, sadly. “He’s right. You’ve changed.”
“Maybe I have! Changed. But I’m still your father—I love you! I love the both of you. I can’t understand why I have to argue this!”
Sarah sniffed. Richard called, “Go back, Sarah! Tell Tex to set the traps if you forgot how!” He hoped that would convince his father that the traps were real; it would not be unlike Sarah, especially the old Sarah, to not know how to do such a thing; or even remember how if she’d been told.
“Richard, you keep quiet, now. I’m warning you—.”
“Or what, Dad?” asked Sarah.
“Sarah—I’m waiting for you. I’m waiting.”
There was no response, but Richard knew his sister was still on the ladder. She’d been fool enough to come, so she wasn’t likely to turn back unless she got what she came for. But there wasn’t a chance of her getting that, because she’d come to see Dad and he no longer existed. He hoped Sarah would accept that. He said, in her direction, “Keep going! Tell Tex to set the traps! I’m not coming back, so it’s okay.”
“Don’t be foolish!” Their dad cried. “Don’t lock Richard out, whatever you do. I don’t have to go with you—I just want to see you!”
“You did see me.” Sarah’s voice was still close—too close for Richard’s liking. What was she waiting for? Why was she holding out?
“I want to really see you,” continued the man. “I want to hold my daughter in my arms.”
“Don’t listen to him, Sarah! He will not let you go back if you come up here. Unh!”
“Leave him alone!” she screamed.
“Don’t listen to him!” their father’s voice rang out. “I miss you. Please, come on. Come to me!”
When there was nothing but silence their father said, “I know you’re still there.” He inched towards the ledge. “If you don’t show yourself, I’m coming down!”
Richard braced himself to seize the right moment to get free. He thought he heard Sarah moving down the ladder, and sighed with relief.
“Richard, give me that penlight.”
Richard grabbed his father’s injured leg and squeezed. The man cried out, then cursed, then made a wild grab to hold onto Richard, but the boy was fast and strong and escaped his hold. He moved away on hands and knees into the blackness. He knew there wasn’t a lot of room but enough for him to outmaneuver an injured man.
Grunting, his father struggled to his feet. As he did, Richard quickly grabbed his pack and swung it on. His father was coming toward him, dragging his leg. “It’s alright, son. I know I’ve changed, but I’m not trying to hurt you, Richie.”
Using his father’s voice as a guide, Richard crouched on the balls of his feet, staying low but circling around his father. As the man continued in one direction, Richard crept around him. At the ledge, he felt for the ladder, found it and swung his legs over the side, landing his feet on the second rung.
He heard movement in the tunnel—Sarah was going back to the bunker. Good. He’d go with her, leaving their father—and then it struck him that he couldn’t just abandon the man, could he? Leaving him on a ledge in the dark? What if he fell off and broke his neck? He couldn’t be responsible for his father’s death—no matter how bad the man had become.
“Don’t play games with me, son! I’ll do whatever you say, okay? If Sarah doesn’t want to see her dad, fine. I’ll leave her alone. I’ll leave you alone. All I ask is that you get me out of here.”
Richard had climbed down four rungs but he hung on, listening. He needed time to think. He didn’t believe that their father would leave them alone. No, he’d get healed up and then find another gang—or meet up with the survivors of his old one—and he’d be back. He’d be back with one objective: To find their hiding place and use it for himself. Richard never should have brought the man this far. He knew too much. But what could he do? He had to think of something, come up with a plan.
“Rich. C’mon, Richie. You know I’d never hurt you.”
“I’ll be back for you,” he said. That was all he was going to say.
“Oh, son!” His voice was pained. “You’re not really gonna leave me here, are you? You’re gonna leave an injured man alone in the dark? On a dangerous ledge?” He heard his father scrambling towards the edge. “What if I run a fever and start hallucinating? I might—I might just—throw myself off.”
“Go to sleep until I come back,” Richard said. “You’re safe here. You’ll be fine.”
“Don’t do this to me, son. You’ll forget about me. Leave me to starve to death. I know
you’re angry about your mother. But you don’t want to do that, son. You don’t want that on your conscience.”
“I won’t forget about you. I’ll come back to let you out.”
“What if I come after you?”
“You wouldn’t make it down here in one piece,” he answered. “And I’m setting traps behind me. I wouldn’t advise you to follow.”
“Oh, son, you don’t want that on your conscience, either.” After a pause, during which Richard resumed his climb down, he added, “What kind of traps? What kind of traps, huh?”
“Animal traps. For animals—.” In a lower tone, he added, “like you.” When he reached the ground he lowered his pack, rummaged inside and took out some of the granola bars Angel had sent with him. For a moment he considered leaving his entire backpack to his father but it had tools in it, and he didn’t want to give the man anything he could use against them later. Besides, he’d promised to come back for him and so he would. He’d have to. He’d have to show him how to get out, for one thing.
He climbed swiftly high enough on the ladder to get within throwing distance of the top, and stopped to shine his penlight. His father reacted immediately. “Rich! Rich! You’re coming back to me? I knew you wouldn’t leave your old man here to die!”
“Just take these,” Richard called, and heaved the bars, one by one, over the top of the ledge. He heard movement and started back down.
“Wait a minute, son, wait a minute! Just give me a light. Don’t leave me in the dark, Richie.”
Richard hesitated. He needed the light to get back to the bunker himself unless he wanted to make the whole trip with his arms outstretched in the dark, tight tunnel. The thought of it made him uneasy. Without answering he hurried to descend the ladder. No sooner did he reach the bottom and was readjusting his backpack when he heard someone in the tunnel. A faint light revealed who it was. For some reason, she’d come back. Sarah!
Chapter 46
SARAH
I saw Richard at the bottom of the ladder and breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God my mini-flashlight still had power.
The Pulse Effex Series: Box Set Page 88