by Phoef Sutton
Have her all to ourselves. Crush felt his stomach churn with rage. But he just said, “Uh-huh. Then what?”
“Well, that was when they were searching everywhere for her. When they arrested you even. It was kind of funny when you think about it, because all this shit was going down and she was safe in a motel room in Alhambra. You know?”
“Sure,” Crush said. He remembered that time well. He didn’t think it was funny.
“But then…Sonny, he got a little rough with her, I guess. You know how he is. Or was. He got tired of waiting for her to stop crying about her father and the Nazis and show him some appreciation for…you know, for all we were doing for her. She started to chicken out. And when she heard about the trouble you were in, on account of her, she decided she wanted to go home. Sonny got mad. He said she’d better not tell that we were involved. She said she’d tell anybody anything she wanted to. Sonny told her to quiet down. He smacked her. He started to…take advantage of her. She fought him off. She scratched his face. He hit her. Hard. I tried to break them up. To calm her down. I tried, but….”
“But you killed her,” Crush said.
“I didn’t! It wasn’t me! It was….” He stopped himself and took a breath. “It wasn’t either of us. It was an accident. It just happened. Something got into our brains. You know? You believe that, don’t you?”
Crush could see it all. How they had taken advantage of Renee’s mental state to keep her prisoner. To do God-knows-what to her and then to kill her when she got unruly. He felt anger flood every muscle in his body. He wanted to twist around and throw Evan off this steep, treacherous staircase onto the hard dirt below. To rip the bandage from his arm and feel Evan’s flesh and bone collapse under his fists.
But not now. He had to know where Evan was leading him. He had to find out where the others were.
“Sure,” was all he said.
“After that, what could we do? Really, what could we do? We had to get rid of her. You can see that? We had to get rid of her body.”
“And what better place than the place they’d just searched.”
“That’s right! And where they’d found nothing. The watershed. That’s what I said. It was the perfect place to hide her. Nobody will ever look there.”
“Unless they dig it up to build a railroad.”
Evan’s voice dropped. “Yes. Well, we did it. We hid the body. We buried her.”
Crush thought of Renee decaying and turning to dust, forgotten and alone, buried somewhere in that windswept plain. His hot anger turned ice cold. And determined.
“Well, after that things started to go wrong with our lives,” Evan said.
“After that, huh?”
“Yeah. We went to college but we just couldn’t find anything to focus on. We graduated. We joined Blackwater. Sonny did well for them, but he got lost I think…. He liked it too much. You know?”
“I think I know.” A killer like Sonny would be right at home with Blackwater.
“And when we got back, he just couldn’t fit in, you know? Started doing drugs and shit. I mean, more drugs. It got out of control. He started going to that Targeted Individual group, which I thought was pretty crazy at first. I mean, at first I just went along to take care of him. And to make sure he didn’t say too much. But after a while, it started to make all the sense in the world. There were evil forces in the world. We’d seen them.”
Yes, you certainly have, thought Crush as he descended the rain-splattered stairs.
Evan kept on. “Then we heard about the bullet train. How Emil Zerbe was going to build it. And where. Sonny started to lose it. He got obsessed with the idea that the body would be discovered. He said we should go and find it. Move it to some other place. He went to look for it. But the only thing is, there are no landmarks on that goddamned watershed. Every place looks the same. So he couldn’t find it. And he kept going back, again and again. Digging up the whole damn place. In broad daylight even. He was going to give us away. So I had to…”
“Yeah,” Crush agreed, “you had to.”
“I made it look like he killed himself. Which wasn’t hard. He’d been acting pretty crazy for years. After that, I thought things would calm down. I thought I could take a breath. But then I read that the damn train was definitely going through. It was in the papers, on the news, in the news-feed on my phone. They were going to start digging the place up next month. Well, I had to do something. I gathered the Irregulars—that’s what I called my Targeted Individual friends—and explained to them that Emil Zerbe was one of the Overlords and that his damn bullet train was really a mind-control project. It had to be stopped at all costs.”
Crush reached the bottom of the stairs and turned to face Evan. “So this isn’t even about the Nazis,” Crush said. “Or the Overlords. It’s about covering up for a murder.” He tried to control his fury, to make his voice sound calm. He didn’t do a very good job.
Evan looked offended. “This most certainly is about the Overlords. And the Nazis.”
“Then why did you make that guy start shooting at Emil before he finished his confession? Because you were more concerned with killing him than exposing the truth.”
“No. That’s not true. The murder is a part of it, I admit, but only a part of it. That was just the starting point. That was the way they tried to control us. To control our minds.”
“By getting you to kill Renee?”
“Exactly. They got into our heads. But we outsmarted them. We have them on the run now.”
“I can see that.”
“Where was I? Oh, yes. Next I talked Noel into leading his brother into my trap—to protect K.C. from the Overlords, of course. I thought Emil would agree to stop the train to save K.C. Shows what I know. When that didn’t work, I decided to grab Angela and Noel.”
“And Donleavy?”
“She was just collateral damage.”
“And how did you find the archer?”
“The Targeted Individual Group is full of people with special talents,” Evan said. Then he looked at Crush as if he were considering something. “Turn around.”
“Why?”
“Just turn around.”
“I need to know why. Because, if you’re going to shoot me, fine, but if you’re going to hit me with that gun butt and try to knock me out, I have to ask you not to. My head just won’t take it. I have a concussion.”
Evan looked a little uncertain.
“Look,” Crush said, “wherever you want to take me, I’ll just go there. I’ll close my eyes if you don’t want to me to see. It’s just that if you hit me again, you might kill me, and if you want to kill me you might as well shoot me, you know? It’s quicker.”
Evan looked frustrated. “I don’t want to kill you. Yet.”
“Then come on, do me this solid. Let’s just pretend you knocked me out and I’ll walk where you want. That way you won’t have to carry me. I weigh a lot. You wouldn’t like it.”
Evan gestured with the gun and led them across the floor of the dry riverbed to the Devil’s Gate itself. The gate stood open and the dark tunnel was quiet and ominous, just the way Crush remembered it.
“What happened with Will?”
“Oh, that,” Evan sounded annoyed. “I told him to go and kill K.C. if he could find him. I never thought K.C. would kill him. Just goes to show you, you never know what will happen.” Evan walked up to the iron gate and swung it open. “Anyway, the important thing is, I needed to stop that train, once and for all. And I did.”
“Once,” Crush said. “Not for all. Emil will change his mind.”
“I know,” Evan said. “That’s why we have to prove to him that we mean business.” He waved his gun toward the tunnel. “This way.”
Crush entered the darkness, feeling a sense of dread and nausea, not only for what he feared he was going to find but for what he had not found so many years before.
Only this time there was a light at the end of tunnel. Or halfway down the tunnel, anyway. A C
oleman fluorescent lantern sat on a cardboard table in the middle of the path. It illuminated the bricks of the tunnel and a lone woman standing at attention, holding a pistol awkwardly in her hand. Against the wall were three figures tied to chairs, with bags over their heads.
“What are you doing?” asked the woman. “I thought you were going to—I didn’t think you were going to knock him out, but I thought you were going to knock him out?” Crush recognized her at once as Amy from the Targeted Individuals group. The first one he heard testify. Her speech patterns were unmistakable. She waved her gun around like it was a toy. It looked like a Korriphila from Germany. A mean gun.
“It’s fine,” Evan said. “He came along willingly.”
One of the hooded figures sat up. Amy swatted it with her hand. “Down when I say down!” She looked at Evan. “What are we supposed to do with them?”
“Don’t worry. I have a plan. Just keep an eye on them. Especially that one.” He pointed to the figure that Crush guessed was Donleavy. At least it looked the most like her. The figure reached its hands out in front and Crush could see they were zip-tied together. “I told you to put their hands behind their backs!” Evan snapped.
Amy looked like she was about to lose it. “Hey, I’m only one person! You have me guarding these three Overlords and I have my hands literally full here! Not just full but full! Excuse me if I don’t get every little detail right!”
Evan sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to micromanage. Now bring that chair over here.”
Amy brought the lone empty chair over and sat Crush down on it. Out of the corner of his eye, Crush saw that, with her guard distracted, Donleavy was getting to work. She was bent over and had started to untie her shoelaces. Good. Now if Crush could just keep Evan’s and Amy’s attention focused on him, Donleavy might have the chance she needed.
“Do you have any water?” Crush asked. “I could use a drink of water.”
“No, we don’t have water,” Evan said. “What do you think this is, a five-star….” Amy picked up a bottle of Arrowhead from the table. Then she put it back down. Evan saw her and said, exasperated, “Well, give him the water. He sees it now. If it’s here, give it to him.”
Crush watched while Donleavy skootched the hood off her face and used her teeth to thread the shoelace through the zip tie that bound her hands. She knew how to get out of zip-tie handcuffs, given enough time. Time was what they all needed.
“Cover me,” Evan said to Amy as he crossed to the table and picked up the voice modifier. “Now we’re going to make a call. Give me your phone.”
“Okay,” Crush said, reaching into his back pocket with his bandaged arm, making it look as difficult as possible. “I’m just getting my phone. Nothing else. You hear that?” he said pointedly at Amy and her gun. “Don’t shoot me. Not yet, anyway.”
He tried not to look at Donleavy as she bent over and tied the lace she had threaded through the zip tie to the lace that was still in her other shoe.
Crush handed his phone to Evan. Evan told Crush, “Now you’re going to call Emil Zerbe. You’re going to tell him that his children will be held prisoner until the day he dies.”
“What?” Amy asked. “We can’t keep them until he dies. Until he dies dies?”
“Shut up,” Evan said. He turned his attention back to Crush. “That is what you’ll say. Tell him he cannot change his mind about the bullet train.”
“I can’t,” Crush said.
“You can and you will.”
Still leaning over, Donleavy grabbed her other shoelace and tied the two of them together.
“No, I really can’t, he’s in surgery,” Crush explained. “You had him shot with arrows, remember?”
Evan swallowed. “When will he be out?”
Crush shrugged. “Not for hours, I don’t think. Maybe tomorrow?”
“Well, what do we do now?” Amy asked. “I can’t live like this. This is a stupid way to live!”
“Be quiet!” Evan said. “All right, then you’ll call K.C. He’ll have to deliver the message to his father. We have to prove to Emil that we mean business!”
“You keep saying that, but this isn’t really business, is it?” Crush was trying to annoy Evan, to keep him engaged and looking at Crush and not at Donleavy. “It’s more like a crusade, wouldn’t you say?”
Donleavy had the shoelaces tied to the zip tie in the shape of a T. She lifted her legs and bent her knees. And waited.
“Shut up,” Evan said. “Do what I say!”
“I can do that,” Crush said, agreeably. “I can call Zerbe and tell him that. Exactly that.”
Satisfied, Evan examined Crush’s phone. “He’s under my favorites,” offered Crush, helpfully. “Under Z. For Zerbe.”
“I can see that,” Evan said. He took the voice modifier and held it to his mouth. “Don’t speak until I tell you to.”
“Right,” Crush said. Evan pressed the speed-dial number, held the phone up to Crush’s face, and listened to it ring.
The screen flickered to life. Zerbe’s face filled the monitor. “Crush! You’re using FaceTime! I don’t believe it. What’s up?”
Evan spoke through the voice modifier. “Hello, K.C. Zerbe. Do you recognize this voice?”
“Fuck,” Zerbe said. “It’s the goddamned kidnapper.” Gail’s and Frida’s faces filled the screen, and there was a commotion on the other end of the line. Donleavy used that distraction to begin. She kicked her legs from side to side, trying to saw the shoelace against the zip ties and break the plastic. She didn’t have quite enough time. The hum of conversation on the phone ended with Zerbe coming back into view, and Donleavy had to stop.
“What the hell do you want?” Zerbe asked.
“Crush has something to say to you,” Evan said in his best pop-star voice. He gestured to Crush to begin.
“Hey Zerbe?” Crush said with a smile.
“How are you, Crush?”
“You know. Been better.”
“What happened?”
“I ran into a bit of a snag here.”
“Was it Evan?”
Evan shook his head off-screen at Crush.
“No, it’s not Evan. Definitely not Evan. Anybody but Evan. The thing is…they, whoever ‘they’ are, have your brother and your sister. And Donleavy, too, although nobody seems to care much about her. He wants you to tell your father that he’s going to keep them, as a guarantee that Emil never builds the bullet train.”
With the conversation occupying everyone’s attention, Donleavy started sawing on the zip tie again.
“What does that mean?” Zerbe asked. “Is he going to keep them prisoner?”
“Yes, I think that’s what it means.”
“What? He’s going to keep them forever?”
“Apparently. Or at least until your father dies.”
“I don’t think he can do that,” Zerbe said. “Can he do that? Won’t somebody track them down? He can’t be serious.”
Evan spoke up. “I am serious. I’ll show you how serious this is.” With that, Evan raised his pistol up to Crush’s head and pulled the trigger.
CHAPTER TWENTY
One second before, Donleavy had snapped the zip tie and leapt out of her chair, diving for Evan and his gun. She struck his arm just as Evan pulled the trigger. The barrel skidded against Crush’s head as the gun fired. The report boomed like thunder in the close confines of the tunnel. Crush fell to the ground, limp.
Amy was taken by surprise by all of this, but she came up guns literally blazing at Donleavy. What she lacked in precision, she made up for in sheer volume. Donleavy was struck in the side, but spun around and rushed on Amy, pushing the gun to the side and pulling her down to the ground. Frightened, Amy struggled free and raced off.
Lying on the floor, blood pooling from the wound to her side, Donleavy thought she was pretty much done for the day. Crush lay motionless at the foot of the chair. Amy was gone. Angela and Noel were still tied up. Only Evan was still in motion,
standing up stunned and shaking his head. The Glock was still in his hand.
There wasn’t much that Donleavy could do other than push over the card table with the lantern on it and hope that darkness would help even the score. So she reached up and flipped the table. The lantern clattered to the floor and went rolling off. The scene was thrown, if not into blackness, at least into twilight.
Evan took a blind step. Crush pushed himself up and blinked, wondering if he had a bullet hole in his skull. The report of the gun had caused a tinny ringing in his ears that continued to chime. He was blinded, both from the dimness of the light and the blood streaming down into his eyes. He felt effectively helpless.
But as Evan moved, he tripped over Crush’s legs and fell to the ground. Crush threw himself forward onto Evan’s body and felt blindly for his arm. And the gun. He gripped the cold metal of the Glock, twisted it, and threw it away. It clattered off into the darkness.
Crush grabbed for Evan’s throat, but Evan scuttled out of his grasp. He scrambled away, and Crush crawled off in pursuit. Evan made it to his feet and ran, stumbling through the tunnel. Crush clawed up the wall, wiped the blood from his eyes, and felt for his brain oozing out of his head. His skull seemed to be in one piece. The bullet had merely grazed him.
He took off in a shuffling run after Evan. Every footstep was a jarring earthquake in Crush’s brain. His skull could barely contain the throbbing pain.
Rain started pelting his face. He ran out of the tunnel and onto the broad expanse of the Hahamongna Watershed. The rain was falling hard now. The ringing in his ears diminished, and he heard the sound of the raindrops hitting the grass. Then the sound of Evan’s running feet, just ahead of him. Crush strained to catch up, but he was too exhausted. Digging down for some last vestige of strength, the most he could do was try to keep pace with him.
Evan was getting away. The man who killed Renee Zerbe and buried her like so much garbage somewhere in this field was getting away. Crush felt a raging fury rise in his chest. This man who had caused all this madness to fall upon them was getting away. And there was nothing he could do about it.