The men on both sides inched closer, pressing Marny to make a move. His mind said run, get out of there, out of the creepy house, and go for help. But his heart said stay. Esther needed him to fight for her. He was her only hope. He and William.
Marny squeezed William’s shoulder. “If there’s anything you can do, now would be a good time.”
To their left, the door to the room opened all the way, and there stood Harold, pistol in hand. Marny looked past him and saw Esther standing in the middle of the room. To her left was another man, shorter and older than Harold.
When the door opened and Esther saw William and Marny, she first thought she was seeing things, that under the stress her brain had misfired and fooled her. Only it was no trick. They were alive, and they’d managed to find her. Her hand went to her mouth and the tears came quickly. She’d watched as Marny went down from a shot to the head and William followed, shot mid-chest. How could a boy survive that?
William’s gift, of course. Even death could not harness the power of faith.
Harold lifted the gun and pointed it at Marny. “I killed you once already.”
Marny looked over Harold’s shoulder and found Esther. She couldn’t believe he was really there, that he’d come all this way and found her.
The other men came up behind Marny and shoved him from behind. He stumbled forward into the room, William with him.
Harold walked up to Marny and put the barrel of the pistol against his forehead. “I should blow your brains out right here, make sure you’re good and dead before I leave you this time.”
The men behind Marny stepped out of the way.
Esther held her breath and locked eyes with William. Amazingly, there was no fear on his face. He was as calm as he ever was, as if all this were just some game that everyone knew the outcome of and no one really got hurt.
Instead of pulling the trigger, Harold swung the gun around and caught William on the side of the head. The boy lurched sideways and crumpled on paper legs. Marny’s hand slipped from William’s, and Marny lunged at Harold. But Harold was too quick and sidestepped, shoving Marny in the back as he passed and throwing him into the table. The table slammed against the wall. Marny bounced off and dropped to his knees. Harold was right there, grabbed the back of Marny’s neck, shoved him to the floor, and drove his knee into the space between the shoulder blades.
Esther screamed again and made a move for William, who lay motionless on the floor.
“No!” Harold yelled. “Stop her.”
Two men stepped between Esther and William. She tried to fight, but they were much too strong for her.
Harold put the gun’s barrel against the back of Marny’s head and nodded toward William. “Hog-tie him and put a pillowcase over his head. I don’t want him seeing or hearing anything.”
Esther struggled against her captors. “No, leave him alone.”
“Hurry up,” Harold said. “And get her out of here.”
Chapter 64
MARNY WAS ON the floor with nowhere to go and nothing to do.
Pinned there by Harold’s knee and the barrel of the handgun, he couldn’t move. The ground was hard and cold against his face, and Harold had his arms pulled so far behind his back his shoulders felt like they’d come loose from their sockets at any moment. On the other side of the room, William was lifted from the ground and carried out, and Esther, fighting and screaming and clawing, was dragged out by three men.
Marny was alone with Harold and was sure this was it, the culmination of his curse. The time had come to pay up. He’d known this day would come and had often wondered how he would react. Oddly, he felt little fear. Sure there was the fear of dying everyone experienced. For him, the fear of a bullet penetrating his skull and tearing through his brain. But more than fear he felt an overwhelming self-loathing. He’d failed. William and Esther were in the hands of madmen, evil, malicious monsters, and there was nothing he could do. He’d stuck with this ordeal because he’d wanted to do some good, do the right thing, and because he’d found himself more and more attracted to Esther and her little brother. But in the end he’d come to this, a helpless victim at the mercy of the one who’d started the whole thing.
Harold’s voice came as a raspy whisper. “I killed you once; I know I did.” His mouth was inches from Marny’s ear, close enough that Marny could feel the hot breath against the side of his face. “How did you get here?”
Marny said nothing.
“Did the boy, the thing, do this?”
William’s words came back to Marny. You need to trust Him, Marnin. You need to let go of yourself. You’re holding on too tight. He knows you better than you know yourself.
William believed in him, believed he could be more than he thought he could be.
You need to trust Him, Marnin. He was speaking of God, of course. Marny needed to trust God. He had at one time. During those nightly visits his mother made to his room when she’d read him the Bible. Those words often brought comfort and encouragement and planted the seeds of faith in young Marny. But as the curse grew and claimed more lives, and as his prayers to be freed from Karl went unanswered, Marny’s faith and trust withered. And when the curse finally entangled his mother and dragged her down those steps, whatever inkling of trust he had left died altogether.
Let go of yourself. You’re holding on too tight. Marny had learned a long time ago that life was an untamed beast and death even more wild and unruly. At first he’d tried to resist the curse, to control the uncontrollable. But time and time again he’d stood helpless as death bucked and charged and claimed another life. Eventually he’d given up and decided to ride the current of his fate and simply avoid tempting it. But when Esther appeared at the garage and that note followed, everything changed.
Harold took a handful of Marny’s hair, lifted his head off the floor, and slammed it down again. The shock momentarily made everything go black.
“I’m going to kill you here, and I’m going to make sure of it this time.”
He knows you better than you know yourself. The truth of William’s words hit Marny full force. He was helpless, yes. All his efforts to control and hold tight were futile. And deep down he knew that, had known it all along. Years of hiding his fear and insecurities and self-loathing were suddenly exposed, the windows of his soul were thrown open, and light shone in, bright, cleansing light. Marny no longer felt the pain in his shoulders, no longer felt the barrel against his head or Harold’s knee in his back. He felt something he’d never known before. Peace. He wasn’t in control; he didn’t have to hold tight to anything. God was in control, and that was all that mattered. Marny then understood that trust required selfless surrender; faith was about doing God’s will, not his own.
God, I trust You. Four simple words, but to Marny they were nothing short of a manifesto.
Harold cursed and jammed the barrel harder against Marny’s head.
A shot rang out but not from Harold’s gun, not even from within the room. From somewhere else in the tunnels. Harold’s pressure on Marny’s arms lightened a little. Another shot, then a cluster of them. Muffled pops, rapid and successive. A man screamed.
Harold grabbed Marny’s hair again and lifted his head off the floor. “You stay here or I’ll kill the girl, you hear?” Then he jammed his face against the dirt again.
Marny felt warm liquid ooze from his cheekbone.
Harold released his hold, got up, and bolted through the doorway, closing the door behind him. The lock engaged.
More gunfire erupted outside the room.
Marny climbed to his feet and rubbed his head. He dabbed at his cheek, and his fingers came away red. The door was locked tight. He kicked at it, but the heavy wood didn’t budge.
In the tunnel another man screamed, cursed, hollered something garbled.
Marny had an idea then. He thought of William back in Gary’s house. The locks on the door, Gary rumbling down the steps. William had unlocked them. His faith had unlocked them.
Frustrated, he charged the door, prepared to kick it again, when he heard the lock disengage. He reached for the knob and yanked open the door.
Esther stood on the other side.
Chapter 65
FOR GARY, THE tunnel was a pathway to freedom.
It led to William, and the boy would show him the way to loose his soul from the binds of this world. Gary was quickly realizing that William was not only the anointed one; he was a savior. His savior. And not only that, but more. Something much more, so unique and holy and special that Gary dared not even mention it, dared not even think on it for too long. But William had to know, the boy had to be told the truth. Gary had to get to him, bring him safely back into the fold and watch over him as a shepherd does his sheep.
When Gary crossed the threshold from cellar to tunnel, the door shut behind him, sealing off any light. He was in darkness now, but William would be his light. One hand holding his gun, the other running along the dirt wall, Gary moved forward, taking the turns cautiously, feeling his way through the lightless corridor.
The darkness was thick and oppressive, like a heavy fog he could feel in his lungs with each drawn breath. The air was stale and warm. Voices were there as well, surrounding Gary, whispering to him, taunting him. The innocent voice of Landon, his baby-like noises, that unmistakable speech impediment. The voice of his father, questioning, warning. He was so disappointed in his older son, so hurt, so angry. But above them both was the voice of William, calling to Gary, pleading, crying, beckoning him to come and provide rescue.
Gary picked up the pace and moved through the tunnel as though he’d navigated the maze a hundred times. William’s presence was his eyes; William’s voice was his light. It was as though the boy had some psychic tether with which he drew Gary forward, guiding him through the darkness.
Up ahead Gary heard voices, men’s voices, talking in hushed tones. He crept forward, feeling the wall for the next corner, and stopped when he found it. He peeked around the corner and found a huddle of men illuminated by the light of a lantern. A door was just feet from them, and it was open. Soft light spilled out into the tunnel. From inside the room a voice spoke harshly, followed by a disturbance. Two men exited carrying a body, a small body, like that of a child.
It was William. His William.
The man in the room spoke again, and more people came through the doorway. Three men and a woman. Esther. One man had her by the hair and neck and forced her forward, in the opposite direction of William.
Anger jumped into Gary’s chest, and he moved closer, keeping along the wall of the corridor.
The men with William disappeared down another tunnel, and Gary followed. He paused and poked his head around a corner. They were putting distance between him and William. He had to act now. Careful not to hit the boy, Gary took aim and squeezed the trigger. The discharge of the pistol sounded like cannon fire in the confines of the tunnel. The gun bucked, and one of the men dropped. The others scattered and hollered. Gary fired more shots, keeping his aim high so as not to errantly hit William. Shots came back at him, digging into the walls and spraying dirt, some dangerously close to finding their mark.
Gary’s shots were dead on, dropping men one by one. The tunnel filled with thunder and the sound of men in panic.
The percussion of a weapon sounded behind Gary. Something bit the back of his shoulder and pushed him forward, into the open tunnel. He squeezed off more rounds and found more flesh, but the pain in his shoulder quickly spread and rendered his arm useless. He leaned against the wall and sucked in a short breath. He had to stay on his feet, had to keep moving forward, keep firing shots.
William needed him.
He needed William.
Both of their lives depended on it.
Chapter 66
MARNY STOOD DUMBLY and stared at Esther, not sure if it was really her or an apparition.
She reached out her hand to him. “Come on, Marny. I know where William is.”
He walked toward her and took her hand. She was real. She pulled him out of the room and down the tunnel opposite where the gunshots were heard. They rounded one corner, then another, following the curves of the tunnel with their free hands.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Marny kept his voice to a whisper. In the distance, the gunshots continued but became more sporadic and muffled.
“We’re doubling around. I think these tunnels form a big square.”
It made sense, a square with rooms on the interior. They’d come up behind the men who had taken William.
They came to a third corner and Esther stopped, put her hand on Marny’s chest. The gunshots were louder now, just around the bend.
She poked her head around the corner, then turned to Marny. “William’s there, on the ground, about fifteen feet away. I’m going to get him.”
“No, wait.” Marny held her shoulder. “I’ll do it.”
“You sure?”
“You think I’m going to let you go out there in that gunfire?”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t.”
“You’ve been enough of a hero for one day. It’s my turn.”
Marny ducked around the corner, stayed low and to the wall, and moved quickly to where William lay, still unconscious. Two men had their backs to him, firing in the opposite direction. Whoever was shooting at them was just around the far corner.
Grabbing William by both wrists, Marny dragged the boy the fifteen feet, but just before he pulled William around the corner a deep voice bellowed through the tunnel.
“Noo! William.”
Gary. The shooter was Gary. He’d found his way to the cellar and into the tunnels. He’d come for William. The gunfire picked up, and a man yelped.
Marny yanked William around the corner and locked eyes with Esther. “Gary’s here. Help me get him up.”
They got William onto Marny’s back, across his shoulders.
“There’s no other way out,” Esther said.
“There has to be another way. Whoever dug these tunnels wouldn’t have left themselves with only one way in and out. Too easy to get trapped. We only followed the interior wall of the tunnel, what about the outside wall? There has to be an auxiliary tunnel of some kind, another way out.”
They backtracked, this time running their hands along the outside wall until Esther suddenly stopped. “Here’s a corner. It must be another tunnel.”
“Go, go.” Marny pushed her gently in the back.
Quickly they moved down the darkened tunnel with no light to lead the way. Marny had no idea where it led or how long it was, but they didn’t have time for other options.
Two more gunshots fired, distant, muffled. They were extending the gap between themselves and Gary.
Adrenaline surged through Marny’s veins, saturated his muscles. He raced on blindly. Finally Esther stopped and Marny nearly ran her down.
“What? What is it?”
“A ladder.”
Marny felt in the darkness, and there it was, a metal ladder.
“I’ll go first,” Esther said.
Marny didn’t like the idea, but with William draped across his shoulders he would need both his hands and wouldn’t be able to feel for any kind of opening above them.
“Okay, but be careful. Take it slow.”
Esther’s hand found Marny’s face. Her touch was soft and once again reminded him of his mother’s. “Slow isn’t a luxury we have right now.”
She started to climb, and a few seconds later said, “There’s a metal door here.”
There was a popping sound, then the creak and moan of dry hinges. The door swung up and open, and the waning light of e
vening filtered down into the tunnel.
Marny climbed the ladder, one hand working the rungs, the other holding onto William. When he reached the opening Esther helped him with William, and they both collapsed on the ground above.
“I just need to catch my breath quick, rest my legs.” Marny’s lungs were working overtime, and his legs felt like rubber from the climb.
Esther closed the door and sat on it. “Real quick. Time isn’t our friend here.”
They were in a hollow deep in the forest. The ground rose and sloped upward for several hundred yards all around them before ending in a circular ridge. The forest was dotted with mature pines, comfortably spaced, and little undergrowth.
Marny stood. “Do you know where we are?”
“Not a clue. Are you done resting?”
“I could rest the remainder of my life and it wouldn’t be enough. But we need to keep moving. I say we head back toward the house.” The Rose residence was on the other side of the rise, and beyond the house was Cranberry Road and the way out of this nightmare.
“How do we know which way is the house?”
Marny scanned the area. She was right. They were surrounded by rising ground and could see nothing but trees and dirt.
“The tunnel could have turned so gradually we didn’t even notice,” Esther said. “The house could be in any direction.”
“Well, we have to pick one and go for it. I’m not waiting around here to see what crawls out of that hole. We need to get to high ground and see what’s on the other side.”
Once on the ridge they could survey the area beneath and find the house.
Esther helped him with William again, and they started to climb. The slope was not unbearably steep, not as steep as the trail Harold had taken them on in Massachusetts, but it didn’t take long for Marny’s legs to begin to burn again. Soon he was slowing down, fighting the urge to stop and rest.
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