by Kylie Brant
Alexa hoped she wouldn’t be in here for anywhere near that long. Gritting her teeth, she began to crawl.
Twice, she had to get on her belly and worm her way along. She saw skittering movements on the walls as she passed. Did Nova Scotia have cave crickets? She should know the answer to that, but the facts hovered distantly, just out of reach. Better not to think at all. To focus on her mission, on the plan Ethan had drilled into her.
Focus on saving Patrick.
She didn’t know how long she moved, alternating between hands and knees and belly before the area in front of her abruptly widened. She sat up and hauled in a greedy gulp of air, rolling her shoulders and lifting her elbows outward, the freedom of movement gratifying until something swooped toward her face. Another whizzed by her ear. Bats. Alexa shuddered and ducked down again, hands shielding her head. Now would have been a great time to have Ethan around to put his vow about dealing with the animals to the test.
She took out another ChemLite to leave. Startled wildly when she heard a voice.
“Welcome, Alexa.”
Her earlier fear forgotten, her hand dropped to her side where the Taser was strapped, her eyes straining to see in the darkness. It was another moment before she realized that Tillman’s voice was coming from the radio clipped to the belt around her waist. She fumbled to free it, lifting it to her lips and pressing the button to transmit. “You know my name.” Her voice sounded husky. “But what should I call you?” He couldn’t know that they’d already identified him, and there was nothing to gain by making Tillman more desperate.
“How about…Anis Tera.” The staticky voice echoed eerily in the small chamber.
“From Anisoptera? Very clever. And fitting.” Bent over, she ran forward until the ceiling and walls closed in on her again, and she had to crouch.
“I knew you’d understand.” His words were hard to make out. The radio probably wasn’t going to work for long. The further she got into the caves, the less likely it would transmit. “Just as I understand you. We all seek absolution, Alexa. I’m delighted you recognize your need for it.”
She bit off the retort she wanted to make. Just having Tillman allude to Olivia might push her over the edge. “How do you know of this place?”
The chuckle that came through the radio had ice bumping through her veins. “Oh, I’m familiar with most of the province. I lived in twelve or fourteen places in Nova Scotia when I was a kid. My time on Cape Breton Island was my favorite. Watch for the glow sticks as you move through the branches of the cave. They signal where you are to turn.”
“Where else did you live on the island?” But there was no answer to her question. Ahead she saw a dull glow on her left. Her mouth twisted grimly. Tillman had come up with a similar idea to the Chemlites to illuminate the path forward. She replaced the radio. When Alexa reached the marker, she tried to crawl to the left. The passageway was tight. She had to change position a few times before she was able to squeeze through. A sudden realization hit her then. Tillman was a small man from all accounts, but he could never have gotten himself turned around as she had. Where was he?
Time ceased to exist as she inched her way through the cave. The chill of the surrounding rock seeped into her bones. How was she going to find Patrick if the markers didn’t lead to him?
And would she be ready if they instead steered her straight to Amos Tillman?
Chapter Twenty-One
Alexa didn’t know how long it was before the branch she was crawling through widened again. Enough that she could sit up and mentally calm the frantic racing of her pulse. The darkness was oppressive. She took out another ChemLite, bending and snapping it until it shone and set it down near the cave wall. She’d read articles about the effect of sensory deprivation, and she could understand it now, only too well. The lamp on her helmet appeared to dent the blackness instead of splitting it. The shadows on either side pressed against the glow as if seeking to extinguish it. Alexa wondered if she only imagined that the light seemed a fraction dimmer.
The radio on her belt crackled again. She unclipped it to listen, but there was only static. Then a shrill cry sounded. She froze, remembering Patrick’s shriek of pain earlier. But this noise was higher. A wavery, high-pitched wail.
A baby.
She shuddered violently. The sound went on and on, the pitch climbing until it raked up her spine. Drilled into her ears. With a brutal knifelike pain, Alexa was reminded she’d never heard Olivia’s cry. She’d never been given that gift.
Just as suddenly as it began, the sound was cut off. And the resulting stillness rang with the now silenced cries. “That’s what you did when you terminated your pregnancy, Alexa.”
“That’s not true.” She didn’t even use the radio; she was shouting the words into the darkness. “Is that was Reisman told you? How would he know? I never spoke to my parents again after I left.”
“Don’t compound your sin by lying about it now.”
She turned around wildly. Because there was no static in the voice this time. Tillman was close enough to be heard.
One shaking hand went to the Taser on her hip. Keep him talking. Draw him out. “It was a placental abruption.” Where was he? She turned in a full circle, slowly looking for signs of movement in the darkness. “I started bleeding. I had to stay in the hospital. But then…” Oh, God, she didn’t want to relive this now. Not with a madman. “Then the bleeding started one night again and...” Her mouth dried out. “The baby was stillborn. I nearly died, too.” And a part of her had wanted to, she remembered painfully. When she’d finally gotten well enough to realize what had happened.
“Repent! Turn away from all your offenses; then sin will not be your downfall.”
He wasn’t here. At least not in this small clearing. Alexa spotted the next slight glow and made her way toward it on hands and knees. “‘For nothing is hidden that will not be made manifest, nor is anything secret that will not be known and come to light.’”
“Luke 8:17.” Was that approval in his voice? Revulsion shook her. “One of my favorites. We’re well-suited, you and me.”
Her stomach heaved at the words. She darted down the next passageway, then froze at the sudden thought of him sliding into the space after her. She threw an agitated look behind her, but couldn’t see anything over her shoulder. Where the devil was Patrick?
Alexa heard nothing from Tillman again as she wiggled along as fast as she was able, leaving ChemLites every thirty feet or so and turning into each of the marked passages. He’d gone to a lot of trouble to set this up, and there was no question that he was planning a trap. But she had a few surprises for him, too. He wasn’t going to win. Not this time.
The cave grew exceedingly narrow. She belly-crawled again for what seemed like a mile. A bat flew close enough to touch her face and Alexa jerked back, rapping her head smartly against a jut of rock on the ceiling. Even with the helmet, the force of the blow brought tears to her eyes. The rough walls beside her caught and tore at her clothing, and she could feel blood trickling down her limbs. But still, she couldn’t slow down.
She struggled to her feet when the opening led to a bigger space. Left a ChemLite and stumbled toward the next marked passage. But this one was wider. There was light coming from the end, although she couldn’t see from where. Because there was a bend in the passage, she finally realized. She made the turn and walked in a crouch toward the light. Until she stepped and her foot felt nothingness.
Frantically, she threw herself backward, her arms wheeling. Her body slammed against the wall of the cave with a force that had all her nerve endings screaming. Alexa’s heart was in her throat. Panting, she edged along the wall until she was certain her legs would hold her. Weaver had mentioned this, she recalled dimly. That there were areas with keyholes in the floor.
“Alexa.” She stilled. The voice was close. Much too close. “That way is dangerous. Come back.”
There was a light bouncing in the darkness, approaching her from beh
ind. No, not a light, a lamp. Like the one on her helmet.
“I can’t. I’m hurt.” She inched along the wall toward the keyhole again. Maybe there was a way around it. Maybe…
“Hurt! Do you know what pain is? To have a hammer used on your knee until it shatters and requires three separate operations to repair it? Do you realize what it feels like to have your testicle crushed? For your fingernails to be pulled out one at a time while someone watches and laughs?” His voice raised on each question until it was nearly a screech. “That’s pain. The kind you don’t think is possible to endure. And I wouldn’t have if something hadn’t happened that drew both men away so I could make my escape.”
He was talking about Simard and Fornier, she realized. And it wasn’t gratifying at all to recognize that she’d been correct about the incident that had triggered his escalation.
She kept her head down to better light the floor of the cave. And this time she saw the yawning cavity she’d almost fallen through. A moment later she noticed the boy standing several yards beyond it, in front of an opening with dim light pouring through it.
“Patrick!”
“Ah, you found him.” Tillman seemed calmer now. “There are only two ways out from there. Forward, into the lagoon. Or back.”
Back wasn’t an option. There was a monster in the passage behind Alexa, blocking her way.
“There’s only one life jacket. Do you see it?”
She looked around frantically. Finally spotted it lying in front of the yawning expanse on the floor, against the wall.
“If you can get the lifejacket to the boy, he just might survive. He’s not a strong swimmer, I’m afraid. And the lagoon below is quite deep, with surprisingly strong currents. If I get to him first…well, let’s just say I won’t bother with any safety devices.”
Patrick’s face was drawn, and he was motionless. Utterly terrified.
“You can help him, Alexa, even though you refused to save your own child.”
She wanted to cover her ears. That hateful voice, filled with wet, syrupy evil was spouting the most grotesque of lies.
“Therein lies redemption.” Tillman’s lamp drew closer. “Save the boy, and then choose salvation by coming to me.”
Time crawled to a stop. She looked from Patrick to the shadows behind her. A dim glow signaled Tillman’s approach. Alexa carried a handgun in an ankle holster. But a bullet could ricochet off the rock surrounding them. Instead, she drew the Taser at her side. Kept her arm down as she sidled her way back toward him.
Her breathing strangled in her chest as his lamp drew nearer. Then even closer. She trembled with the effort it took to remain still, until she could make out his form in the light of her headlamp.
And when she could, she raised her hand and fired.
He gave a keening cry, fell to the ground. She didn’t wait any longer. Shoving the spent Taser in the holster, she bent and rolled up her pant leg. She took out the knife Ethan had strapped to her ankle. Then she unwrapped some of the rope from around her waist and sawed at it, the blade slipping and nicking her as her actions grew frenzied. When she had a section in hand, Alexa replaced the knife and reversed course to make her way back to the lifejacket. She picked it up.
“It’s okay, Patrick.” She tried for an encouraging tone even as her eyes strained to catch a glimpse of Tillman. Was he still incapacitated?
She looked at the gaping hole in the floor. There was a tiny shelf of rock on each side of it. No more than two inches wide. Looping the lifejacket over her arm, she pressed her back against the cave wall and inched along that narrow ledge like she was walking a tightrope.
Alexa glanced down once. She saw nothing but a pit of blackness. She trained her gaze forward again, concentrating on sidestepping a bit at a time. Her journey disturbed several bats hanging from the ceiling of the cave, and they swarmed above her. Next to her. She pressed even closer to the rock at her back, shielding her face, trembling. But her fear of them paled in comparison to her terror of the monster in the back of her.
And when she made it to the other side of the keyhole, she had to bend at the waist and haul in several fortifying breaths. Slowly, she straightened. Urgency began surging through her veins again.
She made her way to the boy. “Hey, buddy.” She fit his arms through the life vest and zipped it up. “We’re going to get out of here.” The garment was too big for him. She cinched the belt as tightly as she could. And only then did she allow herself to look down.
Far below them, the lagoon was an inviting pool of turquoise. The walls surrounding the passage toward it were a smooth funnel on both sides. The calm waters hid dangerous currents. Maybe jutting stones. But the unknown in front of them was preferable to what lay behind.
An enraged roar split the air. Panic sprinted down Alexa’s spine. Their time was up. Ahead of them was a dicey chance for survival.
The other direction held certain death.
She took the length of rope she’d cut and tied it securely around her and Patrick until she’d harnessed them tightly together. Then she looked down and gave the boy an encouraging smile. “Ready? We’ll jump together. One. Two.” Another roar, closer this time. “Three.”
Alexa put her arm around Patrick and leaped.
“Whoa, careful there.”
Alexa struggled to sit up straight on the blanket. Was thwarted by the ERT member who was applying first aid. “You need to lie down. You were out for a while.”
She started to shake her head, then stopped when the action brought to life a chorus of jackhammers. The next time she didn’t fight when the officer eased her back down to a lying position. “Where’s Patrick?”
“He’s okay.” She almost wept when she heard the husky voice beside her. Felt Ethan take her hand. “Better shape than you. You got him out of the lagoon, but you fell and split your head on a rock making your way back down the cliff.”
“Middle name is Grace,” she muttered.
His laugh sounded choked, and the grip on her hand tightened. “Well, we won’t give you too hard a time seeing how you managed to get both yourself and Patrick to safety.”
“I tased Tillman.” The memory had her eyes opening again. “Ethan, he knows those caves. Every inch of them. He remembers them from when he was a kid. He’ll find a way out. A way no one else will know.”
“We’ve got law enforcement all over this bluff. He’s not going to get away.”
“Seaside.” Did the officer slip her something? Alexa was feeling decidedly woozy.
“He’ll go the way you…least expect. And Ethan.” She clutched at his hand. “I refused redemption. He’ll be compelled to kill me.”
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
There was a note in his voice she hadn’t heard before. It was…nice, she thought dimly.
“I know…” she could feel consciousness slipping away, “…how to trap him.”
“Just rest now.” His hand on her forehead was soothing.
“…just need…to listen…to me…”
“I’m listening, Lexie.” She was out before she could feel his lips pressed to her forehead. “This time I’m listening.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
For the wages of sin is death… —Romans 6:23
Amos Tillman stepped onto the Halifax Memorial Hospital elevator, his face buried in a newspaper he wasn’t reading. The blond wig he wore curved around his chin in a soft bob. His bright pink smock, matching pants, and bright white tennis shoes were similar to the outfits he’d observed nurses wearing as they left duty at the hospital. Everything he needed was in the black purse hanging from his shoulder.
This wouldn’t take long.
The passageway he’d used to escape the hapless RCMP officers was as difficult to detect as he’d remembered. It was the longest tunnel in the Devil’s Fingers caves. Nearly three-quarters of a kilometer. He’d waited until dusk because he needed some light to climb down to the beach below. To walk the two kilomet
ers to where he’d left the rental with its stolen plate.
The now-constant pain in his knee had slowed his progress, but it took his mind off the raging in his blood.
He’d been wrong about Alexa Hayden. So horribly, laughably wrong.
The elevator doors pinged and opened softly. Someone else got on. The doors slid shut with a quiet whoosh. Amos’s ascent continued.
Far from being a reward for his many sacrifices, Hayden was the worst of Satan’s temptations. She’d nearly fooled him with her shared interests and quiet understanding. She hadn’t been placed in his path to be his helpmate; she’d been sent to destroy him.
The doors whirred open on the fourth floor, and he walked out of the elevator to the quiet hospital floor. Two-thirty a.m. The halls were quiet and shadowy. The staff was minimal. He ducked into a door marked laundry. Came out moments later pushing a small foldable cart for soiled linens.
It had been ridiculously easy to discover Hayden’s hospital room number. They gave that information out to any interested caller. This would be over in minutes. Then he’d drive to the storage garage where he kept the van. Take off the plates and set it on fire. Maybe burn the whole structure down, to disguise his intent. Then he’d head back home in the rental car. The Lord’s weary soldier returning triumphantly from yet another victorious mission.
Room 406. Anticipation filled him. He pushed open the door. The wedge of light revealed the sleeping woman in the hospital bed. There wasn’t a stand-in this time. Oh, no. He slipped inside, leaving the cart in the hall, and shutting the door behind him.
Letting the purse slide down his pink-clad arm, he opened it and drew out the plastic bag. It’d all be over in minutes.
He was going to enjoy every second.
First, he moved the call light out of reach. Then Amos stood over her, the sound of her soft breathing fueling his anticipation. He opened the bag. Raised it toward her head.