Night Chill

by Jeff Gunhus

  Then silence. She opened her eyes and saw that the doors had closed. The elevator lurched as it started its slow climb to the first floor.

  She would have allowed herself a sigh of relief but there was movement on the gurney next to her. She looked over reluctantly, not really wanting to look at the disfigured face again. The body bag was still unzipped as she had left it but the head had lolled to one side. Now the poor girl’s face stared right at her.

  She reached out an unsteady hand to zip the bag up. There would be police and hospital staff everywhere once she got out of the elevator and. They didn’t need to see this.

  As she tugged on the zipper, she glanced down to the girl’s face. A single open eye stared back at her.

  Then the eye blinked.

  Lauren jumped back, screaming. The eye roamed around searching her out. The girl was alive.

  The elevator shuddered to a stop. Then, groaning under its age-old machinery, it started back down to the basement.

  “No, no,” Lauren whimpered, taking her eyes off the girl long enough to beat on the control panel with her hand. She should have known better. Dr. Mansfield had an emergency override key. Of course he would use it to stop her.

  She screamed at the ceiling, praying that someone upstairs would hear her. That someone would come and save her and save this poor, diseased girl who was impossibly still alive. Lauren didn’t stop screaming until the elevator stopped back in the basement and the door slid open to reveal Mansfield, Janney and Scott Moran waiting for her. The second gurney was positioned behind them, a white sheet still covering the body on it.

  Janney had pulled out his gun and now trained it on Lauren’s chest. She caught her breath and held her hands in front of her as if they would be able to deflect a bullet if he decided to fire at her.

  “We’ve lost enough time.” Dr. Mansfield motioned the sheriff and Moran forward. Lauren struggled when Janney grabbed her by the arms, his fingers digging into her arm this time. Scott Moran tapped the syringe then calmly walked toward Lauren.

  “You’re crazy. You’re all crazy,” Lauren said. She felt a little stab of pain from the injection in her arm.

  Dr. Mansfield ignored the comment. “Perhaps when I explain everything you’ll think differently.”

  The drug took effect immediately. Her muscles relaxed and black walls appeared on either side of her vision. She tried to step forward but stumbled. Dr. Mansfield grabbed her arm and steered her toward the second gurney in the corridor. She tried to say something but her mouth wouldn’t respond.

  Then she was in front of Janney. He was saying something to her. She heard the sound but it reached her brain as a low, indistinguishable rumble. She saw he was laughing and pointing to the gurney where he had lifted the sheet that had been draped over it.

  She looked down, too disoriented to be shocked, too numb to react. It wasn’t Felicia Rodriguez they were hiding. It was a little blonde-haired girl in a white gown. She lay stretched out, her hands folded neatly across her chest.

  So peaceful. Lauren thought, barely lucid. Dear, sweet Sarah. You look so peaceful.

  Unable to fight off the drug any longer, she collapsed. Janney and Scott Moran arranged mother and daughter onto the gurney together, threw the blanket over the two bodies, and headed for the elevator.

  SEVENTY-FOUR

  Jack hung a sign on the police station door that told anyone who might stop by that it was closed for the night. It was a long-shot, but they figured they might get lucky and buy themselves a little extra time before anyone found the officers locked in the jail cell in the rear of the building. Next, they found the keys to an unmarked sedan parked behind the station, and drove out slowly so as not to attract any attention.

  They made a quick stop at Lonetree’s Bronco. He had parked it far enough away from the hospital that the police hadn’t connected it to him. Still, they decided to keep the sedan, thinking it less conspicuous than the SUV. Jack stayed in the car as Lonetree rummaged around the back and emerged with a duffel bag.

  Jack raised an eyebrow at Lonetree as he climbed back into the sedan.

  “New boots,” Lonetree said, gunning the engine. “And a few other supplies.”

  As they drove away, Jack spotted Midland Hospital down the street and felt a pang of guilt. Lauren had to be going through hell. He ought to be with her, comforting her. Or at least he ought to let her know that he was going after their daughter. But she would never believe him. The way she left the jail, he was sure – if given the chance — she would turn them in.

  A flash of lights behind them shook him from his thoughts. He grabbed the door handle in a panic. They had two choices if it was a cop: turn themselves in or take the cop out. He knew what Lonetree would do. What scared him was that he would go along with anything in order to keep going. Nothing would keep him from reaching the cave.

  Fortunately, the flashing lights weren’t from a police cruiser but from an ambulance rushing away from Midland Hospital. Lonetree pulled the car over to the side and slowed down, telling Jack to hide his face. The ambulance whipped past them, all sirens and lights. He tracked the vehicle as it hurried up the road ahead of them, fighting back a feeling that the ambulance should mean something to him. He shrugged off the intuition, chalking it up to the guilt he felt over leaving Lauren behind at the hospital.

  Her abandonment made sense on a rational level. If the roles were reversed, he wondered if he would act any differently. Still, no matter how much he rationalized her reaction, it still hurt. The look on her face when she walked away, the one that convicted him of taking their little girl and doing God knew what to her, would stay with him forever.

  Crouched in his seat, waiting for the ambulance to pass, was all the time he needed to have the emotions wash over him again. It was a waste of energy, and there was nothing he could do about it now. The only things that mattered were getting to Sarah in time and making the sons-a-bitches pay for what they had done to his family. After that, he and Lauren would be able to sort things out. For now, it was better if she didn’t know what was going on. Better if she were safe in the hospital where she could take care of Becky. Then a thought occurred to him that sent shivers up his spine.

  If he died tonight Lauren would never know the truth. She would live the rest of her life believing that he kidnapped their daughter. And Becky. The poor girl would grow up as the kid whose dad had gone crazy, chopped up her sister and stuffed her in a hole somewhere. Little girls didn’t grow up right after something like that, did they?

  “It’s gone now. You can get up,” Lonetree said. He shifted the car back into gear and they rolled forward.

  “Have you been to Huckley’s house?”

  Lonetree nodded. “Yeah, staked it out from a distance. Your friend Max confirmed what was in my brother’s notes. He said that Huckley was a bona fide psychic and that the Taking ritual had only made him more sensitive. I think it was how they finally caught up with him. One of his last entries was how he suspected Huckley could even hear thoughts at some level. I didn’t want to get too close in case he felt he was being watched.”

  “Did he ever notice you?”

  “Every time. I’d be watching him move around the house through binoculars and he’d turn and look right at me. It would only be for a second or two, more of a reflex than anything else, like when you see an animal in the wild. He knew I was there, I’m sure of it.”

  Lonetree pushed the sedan up to seventy miles an hour on the freeway. They needed to hurry but the last thing they needed was to be pulled over for a traffic ticket in a stolen police car. It would be hard to talk their way out of that one.

  Ten minutes later, Lonetree exited the freeway and wound through back roads until they came to a stop at the end off of a dirt road.

  “This is it. There’s a farmhouse about a quarter mile back. There are a couple of barns and outbuildings. I’m guessing the elevator for the mineshaft is set up in one of them.”

  Jack peered down the
driveway. Something was nagging at him. “How far are we from the tunnel where you took me the first time?”

  “Less than ten minutes on back roads. Why?”

  “Something you said back at the jail has been bothering me.” Jack said. “You said even if they hear us coming, they’ll have to come through us to get out.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Well, they’re definitely going to hear us coming, aren’t they? We’re going down a mineshaft in an elevator. Not exactly stealth mode.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “I’m saying that it’s a good plan if our goal is to get into a gun fight and try to kill these guys. But if the goal is to save my little girl, then we should be sneaking up on them through the tunnel. Right?”

  Lonetree cracked his neck side to side. “You know what my purpose is,” he said coldly. “I’m here to kill that son-of-a-bitch who killed my brother. This Boss person is down there. If we go in the other way, they could be coming up the main entrance as we’re going down. We could miss them all together and I still wouldn’t know who he is.”

  “To save my daughter, we need to have surprise on our side. The tunnel’s the only way to do that,” Jack argued, “If we miss them, you can kill Huckley and the others later, but I only get one chance to save Sarah.”

  “I’ve been working for a year to find the Boss. He’s down there right now. All of them are together. How can you ask me to pass that up?”

  Jack didn’t give an answer because he didn’t have one. Lonetree looked down the road in front of him, the road to Huckley’s, the road to his revenge. Jack watched as the veins in the big man’s neck stood out from clenching his teeth together. Jack stared at him. And waited.

  He understood the battle that raged inside Lonetree. He guessed they felt the same emotions. Somewhere inside, in a dark corner where all the horrors of his imagination were trapped and pent up, Jack did not believe he would ever see his little girl alive again. This thought, so terrible that his sanity could not give it any credence, had borne a dark, brooding offspring: revenge. He wanted to inflict horrible violence on Sarah’s captors. Make them endure the most unspeakable tortures he could create. Lonetree’s revenge was for an actual loss. Both a brother and a father. And this loss had fermented for years.

  The difference was that Jack still held some hope. To move forward, he had to cling to it and massage it back to life when hopelessness washed over him. Now, he was asking Lonetree to subordinate his revenge to Jack’s small hope of recovering his child. He knew it was a lot to ask, but he prayed it wouldn’t be too much for Lonetree to give.

  They sat in silence, the sedan’s engine providing the only background noise to their quiet battle of emotions.

  Without comment, Lonetree suddenly threw the sedan into drive and gunned the engine. The car’s tires spun on the gravel road, caught traction, and lurched forward toward the driveway leading to Huckley’s house. Jack sagged forward in his seat, the weight of his failure almost too much to bear. But right before they entered the narrow lane, Lonetree yanked the wheel to the left, causing the rear tires to slide out. The sedan spun a hundred and eighty degrees. With expert skill, Lonetree corrected the spin and accelerated the car down the road.

  Lonetree looked over to his passenger. “You better move fast through that tunnel, Jack.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that,” he replied, nodding his head toward the back seat. “I just hope you have some nasty tricks in your duffel bag for our cave friends.”

  That seemed to make Lonetree feel better about the decision he’d just made. A smile stretched out across his face as they bounced down the road in silence. “You bet your ass I do.”

  SEVENTY-FIVE

  Jack was amazed by how much easier it was to navigate the tunnels this time. A downpour started before they reached the cave opening and had made a mess of the first hundred feet of the passage. Slippery mud coated the ground and the two men had to rake their fingers along the walls to control the speed of their descent.

  Except for themselves being covered with thick mud, once they were further into the cave, there were no other signs of the rain It was good news, Lonetree told him, since many caves were prone to flooding during hard rains.

  They moved quickly, the combination of adrenaline rushing through Jack’s system and the experience from the first trip allowed him to make short work of sections where he’d languished before. He noted with satisfaction that Lonetree didn’t have to wait at all. In fact, since Lonetree had to push the duffle bag in front of him, Jack often found himself waiting for the space ahead of him to clear.

  In less than half an hour, they reached the gallery with the river. Only one tight passage remained between them and the main cave. Walking up behind Lonetree, Jack heard the big man groan as he shined his light on the river.

  “What is it?”

  “This is a problem,” Lonetree said.

  Jack edged next to him and pointed his own light at the swollen river rushing in front of them. The river was nearly twice as wide as the last time they were there. The few feet of water directly in front of them was shallow without much current, but beyond that the river flowed full force. Jack looked up at the rope swing. The spot where he had jumped from before was now a good ten feet into the river. He judged the height of the ceiling and the new width of the river. The geometry wasn’t good. He looked at the side walls. Both were sheer faces that went straight into the water and seemed impassable.

  “What now?” Jack asked.

  “Guess we’re going to have to earn this one,” Lonetree said. “Here, shine your light over here.”

  Lonetree sat his backpack on the ground and started to remove its contents, stacking the small arsenal of weapons on a rock shelf. Knives, handguns, hand grenades, C-4. There was other equipment Jack didn’t recognize but he didn’t bother to ask questions. His curiosity was eclipsed by other worries. He wiped away the mud that covered his watch. Seven-thirty. The sun had been down for over an hour.

  What if they already killed Sarah?

  It wasn’t the first time the thought occurred to him. In fact, he could think of nothing else during their descent into the earth. And now, so close the main cave, images poured over him of what they might have done to his little girl. Maybe it was happening this very second while he sat there catching his breath. Maybe he would push his head through the rock tunnel just as they killed her.

  Lonetree shined his light at Jack, breaking him from his thoughts. He noticed Jack looking at his watch. “I think she’s O.K.”

  “How do you know?”

  Lonetree shrugged. “Just a guess, really. But I usually have a sense about things like this.”

  While it didn’t make him feel much better, he appreciated Lonetree’s attempt to give him hope. “Just the same, let’s get this thing going. Any thoughts on how we’re going to do this?”

  Lonetree nodded. “You’re going over on the rope first. It’s going to be a little tricky but I think if I push you it’ll be O.K.”

  “You think?”

  “I’m not going to B.S. you. This might not go so well. The other option is to climb back out of here and try to catch them at Huckley’s property. You know the risk of that, though.”

  Jack searched for any sign of accusation in the big man’s voice. It was, after all, Jack’s plea for Sarah that had put them in this predicament. But if Lonetree held any resentment from the decision he had made, he was doing a good job disguising it. Jack forced a smile but couldn’t repress a shiver as he looked at the black water rushing pass them. “Let’s get over this river.”

  “All right,” Lonetree said. “But there’s a little something I haven’t told you yet. Something I think you ought to know. Just in case.”

  Jack felt his stomach roll over. Something about Lonetree’s voice worried him. He sounded too detached, too cold. “What is it?”

  Lonetree pointed at the wall in front of him. “That thing in the cave over
there has to be destroyed. I mean, even if we die doing it, we have to stop these guys. Otherwise they’ll go on killing. That’s the most important thing, right? That they’re stopped and this kind of thing can never happen again.”

  Jack nodded. “What is it you’re not telling me?”

  “Last week, I rigged the cave with enough C-4 to take out a city block.”

  Jack stared at Lonetree. “That’s a little something? Is there a big something that you’re not telling me about?”

  Lonetree ignored the comment. “The whole cave structure in this area is unstable, so when the charges go, the whole cavern should collapse. Everything in that cave will be buried under a few million tons of rock.”

  Slowly, Jack understood what Lonetree was implying. Once all the people were down in the cave, Lonetree could accomplish the mission with a push of a button. Of course, it would also mean that Sarah would be dead too. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you use it already? Why didn’t you just blow them up?”

  “First, I have to be sure they are down there. If I blew the cave without seeing the Boss, I’d never be sure I killed him. But there’s a technical reason too. I couldn’t rig the explosives to detonate from up top. The cave is too deep and there is too much metal in the rock to get a clear signal. So I rigged a timed device that I could activate from down here.” Lonetree held up a black box with three dials on it.

  “O.K. So why are you telling me this?”

  “Because anything could happen from here on out. We could get separated. One of us could be killed. If that happens, I want you to set off the explosives. I want to make sure you end this thing if I can’t.” Before Jack could agree, Lonetree held up his hand. “And I mean even if you’re still in the cave. If there’s a chance they might catch you, you have to detonate.”

  Jack nodded his head that he understood.

  “I’ll do it,” he said. “Show me how it works.”