Pitfall

by Cameron Bane

  “Why?”

  We were moving into dangerous territory. “Let’s just do it.”

  “Okay.” She gave me a curious look. “If you think we should.”

  “Yeah. I think we should.”

  Pulling both vehicles behind some late-season leafy oleander bushes that effectively shielded us, we got out. “Is this far enough?” she asked.

  “I think so.” Hoped so. “You were saying …?”

  Looking around, Thornhill tucked more loose golden strands of her shoulder-length hair behind her delicate ears. “It’s like this. I’ve been working at GeneSys for the last two years. The first year and a half I was a regular guard, assigned upstairs on Level One. But for the last six months I’ve been stationed below on Level Six, guarding the dorm.”

  “Miss Thornhill—”

  “Shelly. Please.”

  “Shelly.” My voice was patient. “Cut to the chase. Just tell me what’s going on.”

  She drew a deep breath. “Okay. Eli Cross heads up GeneSys, and his son Charles runs Security. But you know that much.”

  I nodded, and she went on, talking fast. “Charles Cross does all the hiring and firing. Two years ago he brought me in to be a guard on the main floor. What we call Level One. My assignment was third quadrant, greenhouse.” She wiped her face with a trembling hand. “Oh, this heat. Just yesterday I was telling my little boy Ronnie—”

  “I’d like to hear what you told Ronnie,” I interrupted. “Some other time though. Right now I need to know what prompted you to get me out here.”

  The woman stared like I’d been elected idiot of the week. “Because you’re with the government. You can end this. You know people.” She frowned. “Don’t you?”

  “I know lots of people. Who do you mean, specifically?”

  “I was hoping you might know somebody in the FBI. Maybe you could tell them.”

  “Tell them what?”

  She ran the tip of her tongue over her full lips. They looked very moist. And very inviting. Rein it in, Brenner. “About what Eli Cross is really up to.” The expression on her tired face was that of someone who’d just stepped off a very high cliff in the middle of the night, hoping there was a strong net somewhere below.

  And with that I melted and did something I rarely do this quickly. I decided to give this woman my trust. For me that’s never easy, regardless of a person’s gender, but time was running out. Taking the gamble, I hoped I was right.

  “Before you continue, Shelly, you need to know something.” The words hung. If I was wrong … well, I couldn’t afford to be wrong. “My name isn’t John Fields.”

  “What?” Confusion clouded her features, suddenly slipping away, to be replaced by stark terror. She backed away, babbling. “Oh God, did Eli bring you in? I should have known it. Listen, I told you, I’ve got a little boy. He’s only four. Since my husband left us, I’m all he has. Please don’t hurt him, he’s got nothing to do with this—”

  Taking a step toward her, I held up a calming hand. “Wait, stop. It’s not what you’re thinking. I’m not on Cross’s payroll. My name’s John Brenner. I’m here to help.”

  “What?” She quit talking, her panic-stricken eyes wide. “Say that again.”

  “I’ve been asked to find a missing girl and bring her home.”

  “A missing girl?”

  “That’s right.” I could tell she wanted to believe me, but fear stopped her. Reaching in my back pocket, I pulled out my wallet and flipped it open. “See? There’s my driver’s license with my real, full name. Friends just call me John.” I searched her eyes. “Okay?”

  I could almost sense the tension leaving her. “Okay. I guess.”

  “Here’s the thing, Shelly. I think someone at GeneSys has her. Maybe you’ve seen her. She’s twenty-one, pretty, with long black hair. Her name is Sarah Cahill.”

  “We don’t have anybody named Sarah Cahill.”

  “She may be going by the name of Raven.”

  “Raven?” Shelly’s mouth fell open. “I know her, she’s one of the ones in the women’s dorm, where I’m stationed, on Level Six. She’s been there just a few days.”

  “One of the ones? How many are there now?”

  “Three children, and maybe twenty-five men and women. Including this Sarah you’re looking for.”

  That many? Holy shit. “Is she all right?”

  “The last time I looked she was.”

  “Which was when?”

  “Maybe four hours ago. Right before I clocked out.”

  Relief flooded me. Four hours. Maybe I still had time.

  Shelly was still staring as I once again leaned on my car. I patted the area next to me. “Might as well make yourself comfortable. We’ve got some stories to swap.”

  *

  Swap we did. I gave her the Reader’s Digest version of why I was here, hitting the high points of the last few days. Then she told me her side.

  And what a tale it was.

  According to her, GeneSys had been constructed a little over two years ago, and it wasn’t too much of a stretch to say its timely arrival had pulled Harrisville from the brink of bankruptcy. The story was as sad as it was familiar: a struggling farm village, miles from the nearest interstate, slowly drying up and dying as its youth fled its confines for a living wage, and a better life.

  And then Eli Cross and his traveling nightmare circus had arrived.

  Eli had dazzled the mayor and town council with his charm, his money, and his sure promise of Harrisville’s rebirth as the world headquarters of his new agricultural technology. How better to say it? Like starved men, they flat ate it up.

  Construction on the dome had begun almost immediately, although not without controversy. A few of the more bold townspeople wondered aloud why it was going up where it was, better than a mile out of town at the old McAllister place. It was well known the land out there was terrible, the soil acidic and rocky. They said a man could work it all season and about the best he could expect for his efforts would be a crop of blisters.

  Eli had merely smiled and proceeded to write old man McAllister the biggest check anyone had ever seen. That stopped the questioning as surely as turning off a tap.

  But not for long. It resumed when Eli brought in his own construction crew for the job, a firm no one around Harrisville had heard of. With calm assurance he smoothed things over, promising the people that once the dome was up and operational, there would be jobs at fair wages for anyone who wanted them. Again the naysayers grew quiet.

  Eli’s builders began working around the clock, no matter the weather, the steady flow of taciturn men and large dirty vehicles unbroken. One year to the day after the ground had been turned, GeneSys was finished. A few days later an outside personnel company arrived, setting up temporary offices at the courthouse downtown. As promised, they hired for every position, including security.

  And that’s where Shelly Thornhill came into the picture. She’d been divorced for two years, and money at her house was almost criminally tight. Which made what Eli Cross was offering so inviting.

  Nearly fifty young men—and one woman, her—had shown up that day, for only twenty guard positions. Shelly was given the fish eye by the interviewer; it was obvious they only wanted males. Grudgingly she was told one of the requirements for the job was having proficiency with a firearm.

  “If they could just get past my gender, I knew I was in,” she said. “I grew up on a working ranch with three older brothers, so I was good with guns. What did I have to lose?”

  After cooling her heels in the anteroom for nearly an hour, Shelly’s name was finally called, and she went into the jury room for her talk with the interviewer.

  “It didn’t take long. When it was over, I hadn’t made the cut. I guess they were serious about wanting only men. It was just another bad turn in a road filled with them.”

  She was turning to leave when she heard someone call her name. It was a scarred, thin man sitting at the far end of the revie
w table, and he was staring intently at her.

  After asking her to take a seat, the man told her his name was Charles Cross, and he was head of security. Eli Cross was his father.

  “At that point I could have cared less who he was.” Shelly’s tone was flat. “I hadn’t been given the job I needed so badly for me and my son. That GeneSys money would have literally saved us.”

  But then a ray of light broke through. Cross told her he made final call on who was hired for his force, certainly not that fellow. He’d motioned back down the table, where the interviewer sat.

  Cross went on to say that during the next week he was bringing in his own men for a different type of security work. They’d be performing tasks that need not concern her. Yet. He had a proposition for Shelly … if she was up for it.

  Shelly shifted position. “I couldn’t imagine where he was going with this. And then he surprised me.”

  Cross said Shelly’s questionnaire revealed she’d had firearms training, and allowed that, due to normal attrition, later on he might need to add to his special security force. He said he’d be willing to hire her for a probationary period in the regular force. If she did well there, the next opening on his personal squad would be hers, with a nice raise.

  “I was amazed at my luck,” Shelly said. “So I agreed.”

  *

  It was getting harder to see her. The sun was nearly completely down, the evening’s shadows spreading like pools of ink across the dry brown grass, but I didn’t want to drag my flashlight out of the car’s glove box unless it was absolutely necessary, for fear of drawing attention to ourselves. The crimson glory of the sunset on the ridge was doing dazzling things to her golden hair.

  Reaching down and plucking a blade of grass, I rolled it between my fingers as I leaned back on one elbow. “So far I haven’t heard anything to really raise my hackles.”

  “I’m getting there. I’m just trying to give you a feel for how things were around here then. And how they are now. Because Eli Cross brought the town hope, that’s true. But he also brought something else.” She stopped. I waited, but she seemed stymied.

  “Yes?” I prodded.

  “It was …” She fumbled for the words. “The only way to describe it is evil.” She paused again. “Sounds silly, doesn’t it?”

  “Not really.” That was exactly the feeling I’d gotten the first time I’d seen that ominous dome. “Go on.”

  From somewhere she’d produced a handkerchief, and was unconsciously folding and unfolding it as she spoke. “I guess a better word than evil might be ‘twisted.’ Because whatever it was Eli Cross brought with him to Harrisville, the town began to change.”

  Although the night was sweltering, an icy chill crawled up the back of my neck, slowly spreading throughout my entire body. “Change?”

  “I’m not sure if I can describe it.” Shelly’s voice had gone as thick as oatmeal. “It was like something heavy had settled on us. Especially when Cross’s people arrived. And I don’t mean just his security force, either. People like Alicia Bancroft. You met her, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Of course you did.” She sounded flustered. “I saw you coming out of her office.”

  “Where you’d decided to slip me your note.”

  “There are more like her there. A lot more. And even worse.”

  How could they be worse? I didn’t know, but I also didn’t interrupt.

  “And then there are those old doctors,” she continued.

  “Yeah. I noticed some of them.”

  “The few times that they come into town they hang together like crows on a fence, not friendly at all. The town joke is they’re escaped war criminals. But that may not be a joke.” She paused again, speaking just above a whisper. “Not after what I’ve seen.”

  Now we were getting to it. My question was soft. “And what have you seen, Shelly?”

  “What I’ve seen …”

  On the other side of the sky, a hunters’ moon was rising. The first pale edge had crested the hill, its ghastly light bathing her silhouette.

  When she turned face-on to me, it was all in darkness. “Mr. Brenner, I’ve seen the back door to hell.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  There wasn’t much to say to that. Shelly Thornhill and I had come to the same conclusion about GeneSys. Neither of us spoke for several minutes, both lost in our own thoughts, watching the flashing of the lightning bugs. The only sounds were the faint rustling of the leaves and the chirping of the crickets.

  Then I said, “You still haven’t said what triggered your coming to me for help.”

  “This is so hard …” She hung, and then got it out in an awkward rush. “I know what some of the guards are doing to the prisoners at night.” From her tone I had a good idea what it was. “I hear them talking, bragging, comparing notes like high school boys … And I just can’t be part of that anymore, or the rest of what’s going on there, despite the money.”

  Withholding comment, I let her get it out.

  “But maybe you can stop them. To do it you’ll need access to the elevators. That’s how you get down to the dorms. On Level Six.” Another beat passed. “Using this key card.” She pulled it out of her pocket, making it flash a quick red-white in the torch’s glare. “Only Boneless’s guards get them. This will open any door in the place. Except Eli Cross’s.”

  “Let me see it.”

  She handed it over without hesitation. It was white, graced with a large red stylized diamond in the center. The reverse was also white, but blank, with a black data strip running along its longer edge.

  As I examined it she said, “You don’t know how glad I am you’re here, Mr. Brenner. The stuff at GeneSys that never bothered me before is driving me crazy now.”

  “Like what?” I attempted to hand the card back, but she held up her hand, shaking her head, and wouldn’t take it.

  “Like everything. And you keep it. I won’t need it anymore.”

  Slipping it in my shirt pocket, I asked, “Why’s that?”

  “They don’t know it yet, but I’m not going back.” She swallowed. “Ronnie and I are leaving tonight.”

  “Really.” Not that blamed her, but I said, “You’ve been flirting with it, but you need to tell me what has you so scared.”

  There was a lengthy pause. When she finally spoke, she sounded like someone who’d just been told they had a terminal illness. “Six months ago my promotion came through. That day my card was fully activated, but I didn’t need to use it until last night.” Again Shelly swallowed. “And that’s when I got to see first hand what GeneSys has been hiding.”

  *

  For the next half hour she haltingly related the story as I listened intently. Level One, the immense domed greenhouse, was just what it appeared to be: a living, breathing laboratory for testing new strains of recombinant DNA on plant life. It made good P.R., and a great cover.

  Levels Two through Six could only be accessed using the coded elevators. The black-clad guards carried key cards to operate them, as did the doctors and the other workers on those levels. Shelly said those levels held labs and conference rooms. Level Six also contained the dorms. The children’s unit held three, the men’s, six, but was built for ten, and the women’s, twelve. In that one presently an even dozen resided. Including Sarah Cahill.

  Her eyes sparked with anger. “Some of them are in wheelchairs, or are mentally challenged.” As I silently processed this, she went on. “Whenever Eli says they’re allowed to exercise, it’s always with an escort from one of us. And I can’t be sure, but from the way the prisoners act they’re kept under some kind of mild sedation.”

  Shit. If Sarah was drugged, that would slow things down in getting her free.

  Then Shelly said slowly, “There’s one other area in Level Six, sealed off from the rest.” She paused. “It’s what I was allowed access to last night.”

  “And it is …?” I prodded.

  Nervously she rubbed her hands.
“Do you really need to hear this?”

  “Yeah, Shelly,” I said. “I really do.”

  “Well …” she started. “I guess you might call it some kind of … operating room.”

  The torrid air around me seemed to congeal and grow closer. Above us, the moon was fully up, its wan light as pale as skim milk. “Operating room?”

  “There was a girl there. Terrified. Screaming …” Shelly drew a shuddering breath. “They put her on a metal table, and placed her hands and ankles in restraints. Then she … started crying for her mother, and they … they …” She slapped her hands over her face.

  “They what?”

  Pulling her hands away her muffled voice cracked, almost as if she were retching, but the raw horror came through. “Boneless took a scalpel and started s-skinning her then, and carving her, and cutting her … breasts … He didn’t say a word, but his eyes … gleamed …” She hung up, unable to go on.

  It looked like GeneSys was everything I’d feared, and then some. And I was, of my own volition, going back inside, without backup. Marsh was right. I must have been insane.

  I waited as Shelly fought to regain her composure. After another moment passed she choked out, “So can you help? You have to.”

  Vainly I tried to get my whirling thoughts under control. Fear faced is fear mastered. My sense of foreboding deepened, but I managed to keep my reply steady. “I’ll try, Shelly. Tonight. It’ll never be any easier to get inside than it is now.”

  “Alone?” She gaped at me. “Aren’t you going to call for help?”

  “I already did. But I can’t wait any longer. It may already be too late.”

  Again she drew a shaky breath. “Okay, if you’re insisting on going in by yourself, there’s one more area you need to know about. Level Seven is the way it’s listed on the internal documents at GeneSys, but we’ve got our own name for it.” Once more revulsion clotted her voice. “The Pit.”