Gary had finished off the rest of the men and found the tunnel leading out, the tunnel down which they had taken William. He would retrieve the boy, his boy. He had to. He ran full stride down the corridor. He had to make up time; they were well ahead of him. His shoulder burned and cramped, but he ignored the discomfort and pressed on.
Strangely, the voice in his head, the voice of his father, was silent. He’d finally rid himself of it. He had no need of it anyway; he knew what was at stake.
He met a ladder at nearly full speed and cursed loudly. It led to the outside world, the world that begged to corrupt his boy. Up he climbed until he reached the door above. He pushed it open and squinted into the dusty sunlight. This was it, the way they’d gone.
Gary emerged from the opening in the ground and stood erect. His shoulder throbbed and ached and oozed blood. In front of him was a shallow mountain with a gentle slope. More than halfway up he spotted two figures, and one was carrying a boy.
Farther down the hill was another figure, a man following them.
Harold.
Chapter 67
MARNY PUSHED UP the hill, willing his legs to move forward, to step, to climb.
Esther was behind him, her hand on the small of his back as if she were supporting him and urging him onward. The incline didn’t look this sharp from the base, where the tunnel emerged from the forest floor, but now that he was on it, the climb seemed almost vertical.
As they got nearer the summit, the trees thinned and grew shorter. Rocky outcroppings protruded here and there. The soil was thin and loose, and good footing was getting more difficult to come by.
Three quarters of the way up, Marny had to slow. He was beginning to hyperventilate and his legs were rubbery bands, barely keeping him upright.
“No,” Esther nearly shouted. “Keep going, Marny; you have to.”
Marny glanced behind them and saw Harold gaining quickly, his athletic form taking the hill easily. Shifting William on his shoulders, Marny dug in and pressed on. He began talking to his legs, begging them for just one more step. One more step. One more step.
“We’re almost there, Marny. Keep going.”
Marny looked ahead and saw the summit just yards away. But what then? So they reached the summit, so what? There was no magic door at the top of the mountain through which they could pass into another dimension, leaving Harold behind. It was over. Marny couldn’t go any farther. All the trusting and faith in the world couldn’t save them now. It was just them and Harold, and he wouldn’t let them escape alive again.
As he reached the clearing on the top of the mountain, Marny stumbled forward and collapsed to the ground. William rolled off his shoulders and landed near a large boulder. Esther fell to her knees beside him. She too had to know it was the end.
Marny’s head swam from lack of oxygen. He lay flat on his back, his legs throbbing, his diaphragm in spasms, sucking in short, shallow breaths.
It didn’t take Harold long to reach them. He stopped a good thirty feet away and put his hands on his hips. His respirations were barely above normal.
Harold pointed his gun at Marny. “Seems we’ve been here before.”
Marny climbed to his feet but did not raise his hands. It was a useless act of submission at this point.
William began to stir, to lift his head and move his arms, and Esther made a move for him.
“Leave him,” Harold said. “Let him alone, Esther.”
Esther stopped and eyed her father. For a second Marny thought she would defy him and go to William anyway, but she didn’t.
William lay on his side now, his eyes glazed and distant.
“Look at him,” Esther said, pointing to William. “Look what you did to your son.”
Harold spat to the side, wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “I told you, he’s not my son. Your mother had an affair, and this freak was the result of it. She wanted me to raise him as my own, claim him as my son.”
“It’s not true.” Tears spilled from Esther’s eyes. “Mom wouldn’t do that.”
“She did. I couldn’t stand the sight of him. How could I live with them—a woman who betrayed me and her illegitimate freak son?”
Esther said nothing. She glanced at William and put her hands to her face.
The gun trained on Marny again. Harold’s face twisted into a scowl. “You’ve brought me enough trouble. It’s time to end this.”
“You’re him, aren’t you?” Marny said.
Harold’s scowl froze on his face.
“You’re the Maniac. It was you who killed all those people ten years ago.”
“You shut your face.” Harold’s voice was a growl, barely human.
“You drained the blood from their bodies. They were all type O. The universal donor.”
To his right, Esther shifted her weight. She dashed the tears from her cheeks. “Is that true?”
“Shut up!”
“I’m type O,” Esther said. “You killed all those people for their blood? What were you doing, drinking it? Injecting yourself with it?”
Harold’s mouth tightened into a thin line; his lips disappeared. “We did it. All of us. They gave us life.”
“The life is in the blood.” Esther’s voice was low, weak. Disbelieving.
“Look at me.” Harold hit his chest with an open palm. “I’m forty-seven and in the best shape of my life. I can do anything.”
“Even take the life of your own daughter? Drain it from her?” Marny said. He wanted to push Harold. Maybe if they drove him further into a fit of rage, he’d snap and self-destruct, turn the gun on himself. It was their only chance of getting off this mountain alive.
Harold repositioned his feet, opened his stance. The gun moved in his hand.
“No, wait.” Esther stepped in front of Marny. “It doesn’t have to be like this. Haven’t you killed enough? Please. I’ll go with you. Just let them go.”
“Let them go? You think I’m a fool? I let them go, and they run right to the police.”
“But who would believe them? You’re an ex-cop, a hero around here.”
But Harold’s eyes remained lifeless and dead. He had death in his blood now. He was fully given over to the darkness, a slave to its whims and lusts.
“Get out of the way, Esther.”
Esther didn’t move. “No. This isn’t you; you aren’t my father, my dad.”
“Get out of the way.”
Still she held her ground. “You’ll have to shoot me first.”
“Fine.” Harold swung the gun around so it pointed at William, who was now sitting on the ground rubbing his eyes.
A shot cracked through the still mountain air, and Esther screamed. Marny’s breath hitched in his throat.
But William didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch. His eyes remained trained on Harold.
Harold’s face went blank, his jaw slack. He tried to speak, but nothing came out. He dropped his gun and lifted his hand to the back of his head, took two steps forward on stilt-like legs, teetered, and finally toppled forward like a felled tree.
Marny froze. Neither Esther nor William moved.
Seconds later Gary crested the mountain, gun in hand.
Chapter 68
THE BOY,” GARY said. “I want him.”
Esther shook her head. “You can’t have him.”
Gary pointed the handgun at Marny. “Give me William or the punk dies.”
Esther hesitated. She looked at Marny, and in her eyes was the look of defeat. Everyone knew she had no leverage. Gary could shoot Marny and Esther both if he wanted to. In fact, he probably would. He was toying with them.
“No,” Esther said.
“There’s been enough death already. I just want William. I have a right to him.”
“No one has a right to him. I won’t leave him.”
“I need to make sure he’s okay. William, are you okay?”
William stood now. He swayed back and forth slowly and said nothing.
“No,” Esther said again. She reached her hand out to William, but the boy didn’t take it. “He’s my brother. I won’t leave him.”
“Esther, you’ve always been in the way.” Gary’s voice rose, his face reddened. “I took you in, you and your mother and William. Let you live in my home. Provided for you. I cared for William, protected him, and obeyed my calling. And from the beginning you challenged me. Tested me. Made my duty difficult.”
Marny was convinced Gary was raving mad. The more he talked this nonsense, the angrier he got. He had to be stopped.
“Listen,” Marny said. “Maybe we can work something out here.”
Gary stared fire at Marny. “You shut up! I should have killed you back in Massachusetts. But William wanted you with him. He needed you.” His voice tapered a little.
Esther stepped forward. “Please, Gary. No more killing. Put the gun down.”
The lines on Gary’s face softened, the color faded, and the gun lowered a few inches. “I need him. He’s my son.” Gary looked at William, and Marny thought he saw tears in the big man’s eyes. “You’re my son. My boy. I need you with me.”
Esther froze. To Marny, it seemed the rotation of the earth stopped while this news was processed. It was insane, of course, but insane enough that it made sense. It explained Gary’s strange obsession with William and Harold’s hatred of the man. It explained why Gary took the three Roses in after Harold left. He was no uncle to William and Esther at all; he had been their mother’s lover, the man with whom she’d betrayed Harold.
Esther locked eyes with Marny for only a moment, then turned her head toward William. “No. It’s not true.”
William’s eyes cleared and he nodded. “It’s true, Esther. He’s my father.”
“He’s my son.” Gary’s voice cracked. “Please, I have to keep him safe. It’s my calling. My duty.”
Esther extended her hand to William again, but still he didn’t take it. “You knew? Since when?”
William’s hands hung limp at his sides, his shoulders slumped. “When Harold told us about Mom. I figured it out.”
Gary brought the gun up again and pointed it at Esther. “I’m not leaving this mountain without him.”
Marny knew Gary was serious. He’d killed how many already in his quest to “protect” William? What were two more?
He had to do something. Marny’s mind churned but kept getting stuck on Esther’s words from the past couple days…
You’re the right one, Marny … all part of God’s plan … you don’t have to understand it, just believe … it’s called faith … we can all have faith.
Faith only works when it’s filtered through love. Okay, so he loved her. He loved Esther … and William. But still the question was there: What could he do?
Gary’s face reddened again. “I’m leaving with William, my son. And you’re not stopping me.”
The pines began to rustle and sway. A strong wind had suddenly kicked up.
“He’s mine. I’ve been called to protect him, and I will not fail.”
Wind whipped across the clearing and tore through the trees. Pine needles took to the air like rain.
And William swayed, still swayed. His head was bowed and palms turned up, as if asking for a handout or showing he had nothing to offer.
“You’ll have to kill me first,” Esther shouted. Her voice was mostly lost in the powerful gusts.
Gary leveled the gun on her, and a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Marny knew what came next, and he couldn’t let that happen. He lunged toward Esther and in front of her as the gun popped and bucked in Gary’s hand. The impact of the slug was like being punched in the chest. Oddly, no pain accompanied it. As Esther screamed, Marny hit the ground with tremendous force, knocking the air from his lungs, and rolled twice.
Things came in spits and bursts then. The wind still howled, more violently than ever. Esther was there, kneeling by his side, saying his name. Marny momentarily blacked out, then he opened his eyes and lifted his head. William still stood with his head bowed and hands up. Tears washed down his face. He cried steadily. The wind pushed the trees around like they were weeds in an open field. William’s hair twisted about his head in sporadic patterns. But now the ground shook as well. All Marny could think was earthquake. Had there ever been an earthquake in Maine?
Gary was still in his spot, fighting to remain on his feet. The gun wavered. He fired a shot, then another, but they were wildly misplaced.
Esther lifted Marny’s head and put it in her lap.
The ground trembled and quaked. It sounded like a freight train bearing down on them, storming up the mountainside. Gary’s legs buckled, but he didn’t fall.
To their right, a boulder the size of an SUV broke free and toppled out of view.
And still William stood and swayed, palms up, eyes closed so tight only the tips of their tear-wetted lashes were visible.
The soil beneath Gary’s feet began to give way.
Gary looked up, his eyes wide and fearful. His mouth gaped … and the earth disintegrated. The ground opened. Gary lost his footing and sank to his knees, then his waist. He clawed at the dirt in desperation, grabbed at rocks. But he continued to slip, to fall, to be swallowed up by the mountain. He was down to his shoulders now; then only his head remained above ground, his face frozen in terror.
Then he was gone. The earth moved back into place, and the chasm sealed itself.
And just as quickly and suddenly as it had started, the ground stopped moving and the wind ceased blowing.
William’s arms fell to his sides.
The boy dropped to his knees. The only noise was the sound of his crying.
Chapter 69
FIRE RADIATED FROM Marny’s chest.
The slug had hit him just below the collarbone on the right side. His arm felt like someone had injected his veins with acid. A great numbness overtook his hand and forearm. Spasms tightened the muscles of his shoulder and chest. Hot blood oozed from the wound, life escaping him. He lay on his back, motionless. The ground below had stopped its shaking, but the darkening sky above seemed to swirl and rotate in a counter-clockwise direction, like water down a drain.
Esther leaned over and put her hand on his cheek. Her touch was warm and tender and did more than comfort him. “Hang on, Marny. I’ll be right back.”
She left and went to William. He was on his knees on the ground, covering his face with both hands, sobbing.
Esther took her little brother into her arms and held him. She rocked back and forth, stroked his hair, made calming noises.
“I didn’t mean it, Esther.” William sniffed and wiped at his eyes. “I only wanted to help you and Marnin. I just wanted him to leave.”
“I know. I know.” Esther stopped rocking and cupped William’s face in her hands. “William, Marny needs you now. He’s been hurt.”
William looked over Esther’s shoulder at Marny. Tears wet his cheeks; his lower lip trembled. He stood and walked to Marny, knelt beside him.
“You’ve been shot, Marnin.” He sniffed. “You need to stop getting shot.”
In spite of the pain, in spite of the life bleeding from him, in spite of the heavy fog that clouded his head, Marny smiled. “I’ll have to remind myself to stay out of the path of speeding bullets.”
William, the wonder boy, the giant of faith, placed his hand on Marny’s chest over the entry wound. He shut his eyes and moved his lips slowly, speaking unheard words. Gradually, like the cooling of lava, the heat in Marny’s shoulder dissipated and the pain subsided. The muscles relaxed and feeling returned to his hand.
William opened his eyes, and for the first time since Marny met him, smiled. It was a nice smile, warm and wide, genuine.
“Thank you, William.”
“You’re welcome, Marnin, but it wasn’t me. It never is. God did it.”
“Yes. I know that.”
Marny sat up, and Esther put her arms around his shoulders. “And thank you. My hero.”
/>
“Hero?”
She pulled away and studied Marny’s face. Those eyes of hers, deep pools of still blue water, washed over him and brought comfort and hope. “You saved me, you know. Only a hero would do that.”
He had saved her, hadn’t he? He’d taken the bullet. “It was—”
“Don’t say it was nothing. It was anything but nothing. Marny, you have a heart big enough to fit the world in.”
His mother’s words.
“Are you okay?” he said.
She paused, smiled. “Yes. I’m still alive.”
“We need to go, Marnin.” William stared at Harold’s lifeless body, facedown on the ground.
The sun was nearly gone, and they would need all the light they could get to find their way off the mountain and back to civilization.
Marny took William’s withered hand in his and patted it. With his other hand he took hold of Esther’s. Together they made their way back down the mountain, back to roads and homes where people lived. People who did not want them dead.
Chapter 70
LIFE DOESN’T ALWAYS supply the answers to every question.
Milly’s was the only diner in Comfort and was next door to the White Pine Inn, the only motel. Marny sat at a booth and sipped his coffee. Across from him, William worked on a chocolate milk. Four booths over, Esther was in deep conversation with Mitch Wickham, a lieutenant with the Maine State Police.
William lowered the mug to the table, revealing a chocolate milk mustache. He wiped at it with the back of his hand. “Do you think they’re going to put me in jail, Marnin?”
Marny smiled. “No way. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I killed Gary.”
“You didn’t. You saved us. You said so yourself. All you did was pray for God to intervene. He chose how to do it.”
Since the incident four days earlier, when they came down off that mountain to be greeted by the flashing lights of a state patrol car, William had worried he’d go to jail. There was no consoling the boy. He grieved for Gary too. Deep in his heart Marny knew William had hoped there was some chance for reconciliation, that Gary’s sins would be forgiven and wounds mended and he could actually have a relationship with the man. William grieved not only the loss of a life, but the loss of the opportunity to have a real father, a real dad.
Frantic Page 24