As we reached the car, he drew his pistol and pressed it into my back. “Get in and do not make a sound.”
With unnecessary force, he shoved me into the front seat from the driver’s side, sliding in next to me before releasing my arm.
As the door slammed shut, I finally found my voice.
I screamed loud enough to pop a blood vessel in my throat. But no one came to my rescue.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I struggled to shake off drowsiness. Where am I?
Heaviness in my brain seemed localized to my eyes. Maybe I’m dreaming. Rolling to the left, I hit a wall. Discomfort intensified with each movement. My shoulder and arm throbbed with pain. With the other hand I explored the barrier, fighting to focus on my surroundings. Rough splintery wood, not well finished. A box? The bottom seemed to be lined with fabric. I clutched at it. It wasn’t attached.
The weighty darkness pressed in, or maybe my eyes weren’t opened yet.
This can’t be happening, I must be dreaming. I stabbed a finger into one eye. “Ouch!” So my eyes were open. I stared at where my hand should have been, but couldn’t see a hand there. Several times I blinked, but the thick darkness persisted.
When I attempted to sit, I bumped my head.
Dizzy, I lay down mumbling to myself. “Think, Christine. What’s the last thing you remember?”
The dull ache in my head made memory difficult. However, when I concentrated, disjointed scenes from my abduction in the sheriff’s office flashed into mind: Colter
dragging me to his patrol car, a gun pointing at me, tires spinning out of the parking lot, trying to talk, begging Colter to let me out. I yelled, but he never even looked at me. Head facing forward, he raced toward Highway 20.
Just before he got there, he removed his cell phone from his pocket and punched in one of his programmed numbers. “I have the Sterling woman. All hell is about to break loose.” I watched the road whizzing by while he listened to the person on the other end. I could hear a loud voice. The words sounded angry although I couldn’t understand them. Someone was reprimanding Colter. Good.
“It could not be helped. She found the photo.”
More yelling from the other person.
Colter bit into his lip. “Look. We can hash this over when I get there. I will take her to the chamber.” He snapped the phone off.
That must be where I was, the chamber. Whatever that meant. After the fuzziness in my brain cleared, I recalled Colter sliding the boulder door open and guards dragging me into the darkness. Hushed voices echoed in the tunnel. Flashlights beamed light. After a time, we arrived at a place lit by lanterns. Then, this place. They must be keeping me inside the old Star Mine.
Why couldn’t I remember more? They drugged me. I’d never experienced drugs before except during my colonoscopy. What a strange sensation! One minute I remember lying on the gurney talking to the doctor while the anesthesiologist inserted an IV into my arm. I closed my eyes for what seemed like a second. When I opened them again, someone was wheeling me out. I asked, “Aren’t you going to do the test?”
The person said, “We already finished.”
Maybe I just died and they laid me out in a coffin. I pushed on the roof. Hinged along one long side, the lid raised
about an inch on the opposite side, letting in a slit of dim light. Ha! I braced my feet against the wood and pushed with all my might. Now’s the time longer legs would come in handy.
The lighting, though not bright, allowed limited visibility. With the lid balanced on my feet, wood braces on the rock wall and ceiling became visible in the dim light. I listened, but couldn’t hear voices or any other sound except intermittent barking.
Molly! That must be Molly barking. Hope filled my heart. Molly must be confined somewhere nearby. Another bark. This time it didn’t sound like Molly. Too deep. There must be more than one dog. Mary said Frankie kept a couple cages of dogs. I strained to hear my dear Molly bark again.
Was it really Molly or my muddled thinking? Molly didn’t usually bark.
Okay, Christine. How are you going to get out of here without making a lot of noise when you flop this lid open? I raised my body to look out, but my elbows couldn’t sustain that position for long.
I let the lid down slowly and stretched out flat on my back, puffing from the exertion. All of a sudden, I understood the benefits of regular exercise. Don’t you wish you did sit-ups every day, old woman?
When I shut out the light source, the darkness closed in again. What am I going to do?
If my legs could open the lid, then surely my back could too. With many grunts, groans, and a series of contortions, I managed to turn my body over until I rested on my stomach. Then I pushed myself into a doggy position. According to some law of physics I dimly remembered, the extra surface on my back made lifting the lid easier. I slid my arm out to grab hold of the opened lid.
In the dim light, a circular chamber came into view. The box I peered out of sat along one side. Five shafts radiated off the chamber like spokes on a wheel, indicating access from many directions. Which one leads out?
Thick candles on carved wooden stands circled the outer perimeter of the crypt. Besides my box, the only other furnishing in the space appeared to be a heavy table in the very center. An ornate chalice, along with several other items I couldn’t distinguish, cluttered the table. The strong odor of sage wafted through the stale mine air. What would they use sage for?
The weight of the solid lid soon became too much for my hands and knees, the exertion causing my muscles to shake. I gripped the heavy top with both hands, lowering it to the other side without making a sound. I popped my head up for a real look around. Once liberated from the coffin, my thinking cleared and I felt much more like myself.
Then, I remembered the guards. Where were they? And Colter? I peered into the chamber. No sign of anyone.
Occasionally, I heard dogs barking. An opening in the wall directly across from my box must be a mine shaft. The barking emanated from that tunnel. With great care, I kneeled in the box and peeked over the side trying to figure out how I was going to climb out. No small feat for a woman with short legs and limited strength.
The box sat on a small platform with no handholds. I not only had to climb out, but then I had to lower myself down the side of the platform without falling on the rocky floor. The whole process took much grunting and more strength than I knew I possessed. I can’t say my exit would appear ladylike to an observer, but thankfully, no one observed.
Once I descended the platform, I wanted to sit and rest a minute, but I knew I didn’t have that luxury. On tiptoes, I raced across the chamber. Curiosity forced me to pause in the center to examine the objects on the table. Made from a heavy metal, the chalice had shiny glass pieces on the outside. It was empty. An old leather-bound book rested next to the chalice with bundles of green leaves sitting on top. I sniffed the bundles. Sage, just as I thought.
I stopped again to peer down the tunnel for specs of light. Inky darkness stared back. Undeterred, I set off toward the barking. Good thing my hearing is still good. The darkness pressed against me when I entered the mine shaft. I groped the rock wall on the side to feel my way along. After my eyes became accustomed to the lack of light, a slight glow appeared ahead. The glow intensified and the barking became louder. Around a crook in the tunnel, I heard male voices. I ducked behind a large wooden crate to listen.
“Hey, you dogs. Stop that racket, will you?”
“They want out, that’s what they want. How’d you like being cooped up in a cave all day?”
“We are cooped up in a cave all day, dork. Here dogs, take this!”
A staccato clanging like metal dragging across bars echoed through the mine shaft. The dogs howled in reply, setting off raucous laughter from the men. I peeked around the side of the crate. Wearing army fatigues, two guards sprawled on the floor next to two large metal dog runs. Even in the lantern light, I saw their faces; they looked much too young to
be to soldiers. They’re just boys! Crouching inside the cages, writhing clumps of fur vied for attention.
Dim light from two over-sized military lanterns filtered through the musty air. The lanterns sat atop one of many wooden crates stacked along the wall. They must be using this part of the mine for storage. Beyond the cages the shaft narrowed and turned again, impeding visibility. I strained,
hoping to see Molly, but shadows in the cages made it impossible to distinguish one mass of fur from another. In the dimness, I couldn’t even tell the colors of the dogs.
At any minute, my escape from the box might be discovered. With no time to delay, I must hurry closer without being seen by the guards. An opening of a few inches separated the wooden crate I hid behind from the one next to it. Similar crates formed a line along the side with spaces between. The guards could see me if I crawled between the boxes. I sat back on my feet to think. Nothing popped into my mind. I’d have to give it a try.
Scooting like a crab along the back of the crate, I closed my eyes and eased into the opening. The perimeters of the shaft were hidden in shadow. If the guards weren’t looking, perhaps I could inch across the gap without being seen. I held my breath until I arrived safely behind the next crate. Made it!
I stopped to listen. The guards continued their conversation. “What time is it?”
“It’s five minutes after you asked me last time.”
He yawned. “I need a nap.”
“Come on, be a man, moron. You know what Colonel Bodhi says about giving in to desire for comfort. This is war.”
“Who you calling a moron?”
From the grunting and slapping, I guessed they engaged in a bit of wrestling to pass the time. The perfect Laurel and Hardy routine. Thank you for the perfect opportunity to scoot behind another crate. I accomplished the next leg of my precarious journey in short order, sliding behind the third, fourth, and fifth crates without any difficulty while the guards played slap and tackle. When I stopped to rest, the pounding in my chest sounded even louder in my ears than the wrestling of the guards.
Speaking of desire for comfort, I would have given twenty years of my life and my firstborn child just then to be curled up in my comfy bed at home. If I ever made it back, I might never leave again.
But as the guard aptly put it, this was war.
Only two more boxes between the cages and me.
Peeking behind the next one, I realized with a sinking feeling that the opening between the crate and the wall wasn’t big enough to squeeze a leg through, let alone my entire body. I plopped to a sit. How would I get to the cages without being seen?
The grunting and slapping ceased abruptly.
“What time is it?”
Sigh. “It’s five minutes after you asked last time.”
“Yeah, but what time does that make it?”
The young soldier squealed as he sucked in air. “Holy socks! It’s nearly 1900!”
From the sounds, the guards then scrambled to their feet. Maybe they wanted to appear as if they’d been guarding in the prescribed fashion rather than goofing off. While I counted on my fingers to convert military time to civilian time, I heard marching steps coming from the far end of the tunnel.
Seven o’clock. I’d been gone from the station for over three hours.
Must be time for new guards. I eased back in my hiding place, pulling arms and legs tight to my body to keep them hidden.
A deeper voice commanded, “Report, sir.”
“Area secured, sir.” From the tapping and shuffling, I imagined a traditional changing of the guard. They did not engage in small talk, only grunts, but before long two new guards replaced the old ones and marching feet retreated. Thick silence filled the tunnel.
In slow motion, I peeked out from my hiding place.
The two new guards checked the cages before pulling one of the lanterns off the crate to light their way while they marched toward the circular chamber.
My heart stopped beating for a moment when I realized that once they got to the chamber they would look in the box and discover my escape. I must move quickly. Like a racer on the starting block, I hunched and sprinted from behind the crate to the first cage. Several dogs barked when they saw me.
The wire door was easy to find. I whispered, “Molly! Are you in there?”
But I couldn’t hear myself whispering over the din of the barking. I repeated her name a little louder, “Molly!”
She didn’t come.
Around the cage I hurled, searching the interior of the next one while I scrambled.
“Molly! Can you hear me, girl?”
Dogs in the second cage paced at the sound of my voice, opening a space in the middle. At the back, a heap of black and white fur peeked between the legs of a large Doberman.
“Molly?”
The Doberman laid back his ears and barked, teeth barred. Molly stood to her feet and whimpered.
“Where’s the stupid door?” Of course, it couldn’t be right where I stood. I raced around the cage grasping each side and pulling until I located the door. The Doberman moved with me, shielding Molly. The Doberman looked as if he’d rather eat me than look at me. If I opened the door and let all the dogs out, how would I keep him from killing me?
I was running out of time. Think, Christine! Dear God, please help me.
Releasing the dogs would provide a diversion. They would know the way to the exit. But the noise would also alert the guards.
How could that work to my advantage? Only if I could somehow get out of this tunnel with Molly while the guards rounded up the other dogs. They would find out about my escape soon. Besides, as soon as they looked into the box, they’d know I was the one who let the dogs out. Maybe they’d already gotten to the box.
There seemed no other way.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I returned to the first cage, pulled the wire door open, and hid behind it. Dogs longing for freedom bounded out with glee, scattering toward the outside at top speed. As soon as the last one vaulted away, I returned to Molly’s cage and repeated the procedure, using the door for a shield. Again, the caged animals raced out and headed outside.
All but the Doberman and Molly. As if he’d been ordered to protect her, the Doberman stood his ground. “Please doggie! Please come out and let me have my Molly.”
The Doberman barked and lunged toward me. His teeth looked very sharp.
Molly whined.
“Nice doggie. Nice doggie. Come out.” I pointed out the cage. Why didn’t I have a nice juicy steak to tempt him? “Come!”
Saliva dripped off the Doberman’s fangs when he growled again.
The pounding of my heart in my throat made my head spin, and a queasy feeling swirled in my stomach. I forced myself to focus. I’d heard that dogs sense fear. He surely must be sensing mine. I’d have to bluff. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out from behind the shield of the wire door and summoned my most authoritative voice. “Go!”
The Doberman hesitated a moment, looking confused, and then took off out the door following the pack. Molly hurried to my arms.
“No time for this now, old girl,” I said while she licked my face. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
But when I turned toward the dark tunnel where the guards had disappeared, I saw the light of their lantern bobbing toward us. The guards were running.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Well ahead of the guards, Molly and I raced around a bend in the tunnel. The mine shaft narrowed and the floor slanted upward. Where were we? Better yet, where were we going to end up? An occasional brush of fur against my leg and a quiet whimper sent darts of joy to my heart. If I thought about it too much, I’d need tissues.
We came to an entrance or exit, I didn’t know which; the shaft changed significantly anyhow. Wooden braces and bare rock on the walls gave way to a smooth surface like plaster, a doorway. Would we soon be running in the woods?
I peeked out. The doorway opened into one of the old sawmill
buildings.
The parking garage opened before me. Three charred walls still stood, blackened reminders of what had once been. A thick scorched smell hung in the air. Parts of the roof covered burned vehicles. I looked up at where the roof should have been. The setting sun sent pink and orange rays across the sky, the colors creating a stunning contrast between the blackened barn and its contents.
Face upward, I sent another prayer heavenward. Please God, we need help.
With Molly trotting at my heels, I picked my way over burned rafters and ashes, hurrying through rows of toasted cars and trucks.
Then I skidded to a stop.
The pack of escaped dogs crowded in the compound courtyard, barking wildly. Beyond them, dozens of soldiers waved their arms and yelled, trying to corral the dogs.
Molly stared up at me, waiting for instructions. I turned my head, searching for another way out.
I ran back to one of the vans we’d just passed. A line of soot blackened one side, but it had sustained minimal damage from the fire. The driver’s side door gaped open, presenting the most available hiding place.
With no time to spare, I jumped in and pulled Molly after me. Water filled the interior, most likely spray from firefighters’ hoses. Molly whined when I pushed her toward the back of the van, into the darkness. Sloshing in puddles, I crouched to listen.
My fingers tightened on her collar. I pulled her close. She licked the tears on my face. I didn’t need tissues with her around.
Cross voices scolded the dogs, many voices. I imagined trying to round up a pack of caged animals that had just tasted a bit of freedom. That wouldn’t be an easy task. It should keep the soldiers busy for a little while. But before long, I heard running from the other direction when the two guards returned from the chamber, probably to report my disappearance. Now what?
When I rearranged my legs in the darkness, I kicked something solid. My fingers explored the floor of the van, finding the item at last. In the dim light filtering through the
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