by Pawlik, Tom
“What, you don’t think they’ll believe you’re a doctor?” Pale Man led Devon down a quiet hall to a supply room and shut the door. “ICU is on the third floor. Let’s get you out of your gangsta costume and into something more appropriate.”
Several minutes later, Devon emerged in green scrubs, head down and pushing a supply cart. He made his way to the elevators, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. But his forehead was beaded with sweat. He felt more out of place here than at any time in his life. His gun was hidden inside the cart.
“Relax; you’re a natural.” Pale Man chuckled as he walked beside Devon. “Y’know, I think if this whole gangbanger gig doesn’t pan out for you, you should try your hand in the medical profession. I can always use you there.”
“Shut up.”
They rode the elevator to the third floor. The doors opened and Devon’s jaw dropped. Pale Man swore.
They were staring at a corridor full of police.
Pale Man pulled Devon back into the elevator and exploded in a stream of profanity as the doors closed. Devon’s heart was pounding at the close call. There were at least a half-dozen cops lounging around in the hallway. They hadn’t noticed him standing in the elevator. No one had recognized him—or so he hoped.
“Hey, man,” Devon said. “I thought you knew where all the cops around here were. What’s up with that? You nearly got me caught.”
Pale Man just raised a hand. His eyes shone bright yellow. “Don’t…” He took a deep breath and calmed himself. “Don’t get all up in my face right now, chief. I’m not in the mood.”
“Hey, I’m just saying, you’re not all-knowing after all.”
They returned to the first floor and went back to the supply room. Pale Man paced around the room, still fuming. “It’s your friend Hayden. This guy’s really starting to get on my nerves.”
“What’d he do now?”
“He’s messing with things he shouldn’t be. He must have found out somehow that you escaped. He must have figured out what I’m trying to do. Now shut up; I need to formulate a new plan.”
Devon leaned against the cart. He almost sighed with relief. “So that means I don’t have to kill the dude?”
“We’ll get back to Mitch.” Pale Man continued pacing. He looked at his watch. “But for right now, we need to make a slight alteration in our schedule.”
“Alteration? What are you talking about?”
Pale Man stopped pacing. “Hayden is like an obnoxious kid. He gets something stuck in his head and he just can’t let it go. Usually I can get people to ignore the things I want them to ignore. Rationalize them away and forget about them. But this guy’s like the spoiled brat who just doesn’t give up.”
“So why don’t you go bug him and leave me alone.”
Pale Man let out a long sigh and closed his eyes. “It doesn’t work like that. He’s out of my… jurisdiction. But not entirely out of my influence. If he wants to mess with me, let’s see if we can’t make it as painful as possible.”
“What are you talking about?”
But Pale Man was already grinning. “Let’s get back to the car, chief. We have another stop to make.”
Devon rolled his eyes and swore. “Now where?”
“Lake Forest. Hayden has a wife and daughter. And I think we should pay them a visit.” He chuckled. “More accurately, I think you need to pay them a visit.”
63
CONNER WATCHED THE CABIN from the cover of the trees for several minutes. The window was darkened and the sagging porch shrouded in shadows. It was exactly as he remembered it—except there was no light glowing inside.
With his gun held ready, Conner slipped across the small clearing and up onto the rickety floorboards of the porch. The glass window was almost completely encrusted with dirt from years of exposure to the elements, and the wood was soft and gray with rot. The little paint that was left was chipped and peeling. Like the few, flaky remnants left after a snake sheds its skin.
The cabin looked to have been built on a foundation of odd, misshapen bricks. Almost as if they’d been collected from various sources and used in random arrangement. It appeared to have been lived in at some point. Conner guessed maybe it had been used for a hunting shack or for field hands. The roof was bowed and stratified by at least three sets of shingles. As if the solution to any leak was to slap on another patch of tar and shingles to cover the hole. Just enough to get by.
Conner peeked inside the front window but saw only motionless black shapes. A table and some chairs. The fading daylight had cast the interior in a pall of shadows that seemed to suck all color from the furnishings within.
He tried the door and discovered it was unlocked. Not that it mattered; a lock wouldn’t have kept anyone out with the wooden doorjamb rotted as it was. It creaked open on rusted hinges and Conner slipped inside.
The flashlight beam swept across the front room and set shadows dancing along the walls. It was cluttered with old furniture, a chest, and an iron stove in the center.
He stood perfectly still and let the silence cover him. There was no movement inside. Conner moved the light across the far wall and spotted two doors along the back of the main room. He checked to see if they were both unlocked as well. His boots made dull clops across the floorboards and he could feel himself sag a little. As if the cabin had settled on its makeshift foundation, making for an uneven surface.
The first door was unlocked and revealed a tiny bedroom. The bed was more of a cot, really. A stained and lumpy mattress situated on a rusted bed frame. Next to the bed was an antique dresser. Several knobs were missing. Dozens of spiderwebs dangled precariously in the corners of the room, having captured more dust over the years than insects.
Conner returned to the main room and swept the light slowly around the perimeter. The cabin itself seemed suitably empty, but Conner knew where there was a foundation, there may be a crawl space or a cellar. And where there was a cellar, there was a way down into the cellar.
He opened the second door and saw a narrow wooden stairway leading down into darkness. Conner caught a cool whiff of moist earth and swore under his breath. He’d been ready to call it quits and go home. He’d come so close. His stomach churned now and he knew that he wasn’t going home any time soon.
He descended halfway down the steps and looked around the cellar. Low brick walls and a rough concrete floor. Cans of paint were stacked against one of the walls and a pair of homemade two-by-four shelving units stood along the other. Other than that and a few centipedes, the place was empty.
Conner inspected the stack of paint cans, moving them to see what might lie behind. Nothing but the brick wall. He shone the flashlight along the entire perimeter until he came to one of the shelving units. It was mounted to the wall and the floor with masonry bolts. The shelves contained an assortment of bolts and screws and a few rusty chains.
He moved on to the second unit. This one seemed to be looser than the other. Conner inspected it more closely. The legs of this shelf were set into shallow holes, cut right into the concrete floor, not mounted with bolts like the other shelf. The top of the unit was bolted to the floor joists of the cabin. Conner frowned and jiggled the shelving unit again. The bolts weren’t fully tightened. Conner loosened the bolts by hand and lifted the entire shelf up, out of the holes in the concrete. Then he set it aside and inspected the wall behind.
Conner could see that the floor under the shelf was worn. Numerous scratches marred the concrete. He focused the light on the bricks and could see an outline along a section of the wall where the masonry work had crumbled away. He pushed against that section of the wall, but it wouldn’t budge.
Then he noticed two of the bricks had small holes cut into the surface, an inch or two in diameter. Conner knelt down and felt inside with his finger. He could feel something metallic inside. A metal bar, running vertically through the bricks.
Conner sat back for a moment and stared at the wall. The holes were about two feet o
ff the floor and roughly eighteen inches apart. It looked like some kind of door, he knew. But how to move it? How to open it?
Then it struck him: the chains on the other shelf. He grabbed them and discovered hooks at each end. Conner took a moment to catch his breath. He flipped open his cell phone. This was clearly enough evidence to get the police involved.
But his phone could not get a signal in his current location. He considered heading back to the car to call, but before he did, he needed to be sure. He inserted the hooks into the holes in the bricks. He twisted them and felt them catch the metal bar inside. Then Conner wrapped the chain around his wrists and pulled.
At first nothing happened. Conner braced himself and pulled again.
He felt the wall move slightly. He clenched his teeth and leaned back. Inch by inch, a three-by-four-foot section of the brick wall slid toward him. Conner grunted and pulled until he had created enough of an opening to look through.
He shone the flashlight into the hole and caught his breath. A powerful stench wafted toward him. He gagged and covered his nose with his sleeve. A small passageway, four feet high, was cut through the dirt and clay. At the far end, maybe ten yards away, it seemed to widen. And in the darkness, a dim orange light glowed.
Conner felt a wave of fear uncoiling inside him. Death lurked at the end of that tunnel. Death and decay. He could smell it. He could feel it. Just like in his dreams. Conner turned immediately and headed for the stairs. He had to get out of here. He had to get back to his car before Owen showed up. He had to…
Conner stopped at the stairs. A thought came to him. Like a still, small voice.
Why was there a light at the end of the tunnel?
64
MITCH COULD BARELY SEE HOWARD amid the sporadic flashes of lightning. It took a while for the words to sink in.
“Did he happen to mention who was driving the truck?”
What was that supposed to mean? Howard gazed back at him, a half grin on his face, as if he was enjoying watching Mitch grapple with this news. Mitch looked to Nathan, whose face was almost expressionless. Just a hint of regret in his eyes.
“No!” Mitch turned back to Howard. “You’re lying. Everything you’ve told me over the last five years has been a lie.”
Howard only chuckled, a cold and hollow laugh.
“He’s right, Mitch.” Nathan’s voice came softly behind him.
For a moment, Mitch found himself at a loss for words. He could only shake his head with his mouth hanging open. Finally he turned to Nathan. “Are you serious? You were driving that truck?”
Nathan nodded. “I was going to tell you when the time was right. I was afraid you wouldn’t have trusted me otherwise.”
“You did this to me?”
Howard interjected himself. “How do you think he knew so much about you? Why do you think he was so desperate to help you? To ease his conscience.”
“Mitch,” Nathan said, “you have to believe me. I was going to tell you.”
Mitch suddenly felt dizzy, like the ground was shifting beneath him. He’d come all this way for nothing. He had trusted Nathan and all the while the guy was hiding this secret. Keeping the truth from him.
“I trusted you. And you’re the whole reason I’m here!”
“It was an accident,” Nathan said. “It was late. I’d been working a double shift and I was on my way home. I was just so tired.”
“That’s no excuse!” Mitch’s anger exploded. He shoved Nathan back against the side of the cave. “You did this to me! You killed me!”
“I’m trying to help you.” Nathan didn’t raise his voice. “God knew you weren’t ready to die yet. He knew you were trapped in this place. He sent me to save you, to bring you back.”
“Save me?” Mitch shoved him against the rock again. “I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you!”
Anger now flared up in Nathan’s eyes. He shoved Mitch backward, breaking his hold. “I tried to swerve out of the way, but it was too late. After I hit you, I lost control, drove into the ditch, and smashed into a tree. You’re in a coma? I’m the one they’re pulling the plug on. I’ve got a wife and kids I’m leaving behind. You don’t think I’m paying a price?”
Mitch’s chest was pounding, but his anger quickly gave way to despair. He suddenly felt the loss of all the plans he’d been making. All of his hopes had been shattered in that one instant. On that one section of asphalt.
“I was going to propose to Linda,” he said. “I was going to buy a business.…”
If only he’d left a few minutes sooner. Or if he’d just taken a different route. But his father had called to talk. That had delayed him those few precious minutes. Three minutes that changed his entire life. Three minutes he’d never get back.
There were so many things that had happened that night. So many choices he might have made differently. If only he hadn’t answered the phone. He would’ve passed Nathan on another stretch of highway. And he…
Mitch shuddered.
He wouldn’t be here now, clinging to whatever life he had left.
Mitch grimaced at that thought. Maybe it was his father’s fault after all. In spite of the man’s best intentions, he had caused this tragedy. Even in his attempt to reconcile with Mitch, his father had ruined Mitch’s life. Dashed all of his plans to pieces.
Nathan regained his composure. “Mitch, everything happens for a reason. I know you don’t think God takes any interest in us, but He does have a plan. For each of us.”
Mitch grunted. “Not anymore.”
“No, Mitch. He still has a plan for you. You’ve strayed too far for too long, and now He’s trying to bring you back.”
Howard stood atop his column of sand, arms folded. Grinning. “Ah yes. The Almighty’s ever-elusive, top secret plan for the universe.” He shook his head and laughed. “It’s funny, though, how things never seem to go quite how He wants them to. Too bad He gave you each your own will. Your freedom to choose. But I guess when you’re God, even if something doesn’t go your way, you can still say it was all just part of the plan. And no one’s the wiser, eh?”
Mitch could hear whispers on the wind now. He looked over the edge. Amid the flashes of light, the entire canyon floor seemed to be moving. And Mitch could see why. Hundreds of the Reapers—thousands of them—were marching across the sand toward them. They reached the base of the cliff and began scaling it like a horde of insects.
Howard’s white eyes glowed in the darkness. “Plan or no plan, I’m afraid you’re not going anywhere, Mitch. Not for a long time.”
Nathan winced, clutching his chest. He grabbed Mitch’s arm. “Listen to me. I’m out of time. I wish I could’ve gotten you farther than this.” He doubled over.
The first wave of the Reapers had nearly reached the ledge.
Nathan caught his breath. “Go through the tunnel. You’ll know it when you reach the other side. Your time is nearly ready. Don’t be afraid of what happens. Don’t be afraid of the tunnel. Fear will lead to anger.…”
His breathing came in deep gasps now. He took Mitch’s hand and pressed something into it. “Remember… you’re not alone.”
Nathan’s lips tightened and he pushed Mitch away from the ledge, into the cave entrance. Then, turning to Howard, he said, “You know, I would’ve thought you’d have learned a little humility by now.”
Howard only laughed. The first of the Reapers reached the top of the ledge—dozens of them. Mitch backed away, farther into the cave.
Nathan tore his shirt open, exposing his chest. A large patch of his skin had changed color. It was…
Mitch blinked and looked closer.
It was glowing. Like the rash he’d seen on all the others, only instead of a sickly purple tinge, this had a warm, yellow glow. Like sunlight. It seemed to grow more intense every second as it spread across the rest of his body.
Howard reeled back and hissed.
Nathan straightened up. He no longer seemed to be in pain. He spread his ha
nds out to his sides and they flared with a bright light. His back arched, his head flung back, lost in the brilliant glare.
Howard threw his hands up in front of his face. The Reapers, too, hissed and writhed, tumbling backward off the cliff. The circle of light exploded out from Nathan, slamming into Howard’s column of sand, dissolving it into dust. Mitch caught a glimpse of the old man plummeting down.
The light blazed into the cave as well, flooding over Mitch. Warm and clean, it seemed to have a physical force that knocked him to the ground.
Nathan’s form was transfigured into pure light. As if light itself had become a solid, living thing. Like the spirits Mitch had seen from the mountaintop. Mitch could feel the pure energy radiating outward from Nathan, passing over him and through him almost like an electrical charge.
Nathan flung his arms upward and leaped into the air, ascending higher and higher, until at last he disappeared through the clouds and was gone.
65
“I MUST BE CRAZY.”
Conner squeezed through the opening into the tunnel. The sound of his own hushed voice was of little comfort. His hand sank into the cold mud as he crept through the passage. His other hand held the gun in front of him. The sides of the tunnel were braced with old timbers every three or four feet.
The odor was overwhelming. Conner felt nausea growing inside him but swallowed hard and forced himself on. Just a few more feet. Just a little farther. Take a look and then get out quick. Get back to the car. Call the police.
He could see that the tunnel opened into a tiny room up ahead. Just an alcove with pea gravel on the ground. He could see a small orange light wired to a car battery. Conner crept closer still. He could see…
His eyes widened.
A pair of corpses lay motionless under a clear plastic tarp.
The stench was overpowering and Conner couldn’t fight it any longer. He vomited the contents of his stomach into the dirt.
“Oh . . . dear God,” he said, coughing. Choking on the horror. “Dear Jesus… help me.”