“Run, Gina!”
“Not without you.”
As Rocky started to push himself up, Gina kicked him in the face.
“Let’s move it!” Harry grabbed her by the hand.
They both started running for the door when a shot cut through the moment like a cannon.
“Far enough!” Ethan said. “Both of you come back over here.”
Gina and Harry turned, looked first at Ethan, then at each other. They saw the administrator waving his pistol at them, first at one, then the other.
Ethan glanced down at Rocky and Pete, who were getting to their feet. “You’re the most stupid, inept idiots I’ve ever had to deal with in my whole career.”
“When I get through messing them up,” Rocky said, “they’ll give up that computer stuff. You can bet your ass on that.”
“Who cares?” Ethan said with a sneer. “Once we get rid of them, it won’t matter.” He waved the gun again. “Can you possibly manage the rest of this without my help?”
“We’ll take care of it,” Rocky said, grabbing Gina’s arm while Pete clamped a hand on the nape of Harry’s neck. “Lookin’ forward to it.”
* * * *
“You two are gonna regret the day you were born,” Rocky said, as he tightened his grip on Gina’s arm. His other hand rubbed his jaw where Harry had bashed him.
Riding down in the elevator, Rocky and Pete briefly whispered to each other. When they stepped out into the basement, they began moving toward the tunnel. The path became narrower and narrower until they were forced to walk single file. She could hear Pete still bad-mouthing Harry. She tried to look back, but all she got was a quick glimpse of Rocky’s hate filled face.
They’re going to kill us … they have to. We know way too much about how the study’s been rigged. Ethan made it plain—they can’t take a chance on our getting damaging evidence out of here.
Rocky let go of her arm and began slapping her on the behind with an open hand, trying to get her to move faster.
“You better cut that out,” she yelled, turning around to face him, balled up fists at her sides.
“Or you’ll do what?” He squeezed her neck until she thought he would strangle her, or crack her vertebrae.
* * * *
What she’d guessed was a tunnel, or corridor, was really a mine shaft. The ceiling was shored up with timbers and the side walls were bulging with mine tailings that poked through the rough-hewn boards. Plenty of rock and soil had already fallen from the ceiling. Gina wondered just how stable the whole place was. It made her queasy.
The mine floor was very uneven and she kept tripping over loose rocks. When they came to a Y, Rocky shoved her off to the right.
“Harry, are you there?”
There was no answer.
“Shut your mouth, bitch!”
Her legs were shaking and it was difficult to see—the light bulbs that lined the mine were not only dim, they were few and far between. Moving from light to light, she began to sense a horrible blackness closing in around her. She could barely breathe.
Rocky kept shoving her forward.
The deeper they went, more and more of the ceiling of dirt and rocks had collapsed. Some of it had been removed so they could walk through, but a lot of the debris was still in the way.
The path even narrowed more as they started on a sharp slant downward. She tried to control her breathing, but she was starting to pant; it felt like someone was sitting on her chest.
Where’s Harry? Did Pete take him the other way at the Y?
She stopped in her tracks and turned to face Rocky, her anger and fear a hot coal inside. “Where’s Harry?” she screamed in his face. “Do you hear me? Where’s Harry, you big ape?”
He punched her in the mouth. Her purse went flying and she fell to the ground, teeth biting deep into her tongue. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth and she tried to wipe it away; tears filled her eyes.
“I’ve fucking had enough of you, city girl.”
She stared up at him hovering over her. Even in the dim light she could see a mean smile slashing across his face.
She’d been cornered like this before and knew what was coming. He pulled down his fly, reached into his pants. She jolted up and turned to run. He grabbed her, nails clawing her arm. He swung her around and threw her hard against the wall. Rocks tore into her shoulders and back.
“When I’m through with you, you won’t give a shit about Harry … or anything else.”
His cock was out of his pants and he was starting to yank her scrubs down. She kneed him in the groin as hard as she could. When he pulled away, she kicked his balls, once, then again. He fell like a bag of rice, lying across the pathway, blocking the exit. Croaking sounds filled the shaft.
She reached to scoop up her purse lying next to him, but he rolled over and his fingers encircled her ankle. She kicked out, then stomped on his hand over and over until she heard the snap of bones. His screams followed her as she grabbed her purse and ran deeper into the mine.
“I’ll kill you, you bitch! I’ll kill you!”
* * * *
Harry was certain that Pete intended to follow Ethan’s orders ... kill him.
The bastard kept stick-poking him in the back every time he tried to lessen the pace so he could slow everything down and think his way out of the situation.
But Pete was big and had a lot more heft and muscle than Harry. Even if he’d worked out day and night, he still wouldn’t have been able to match the man’s muscle mass and hitting power.
Harry tried to visualize the terrain above them—form some idea where they might be.
Probably behind Comstock where I scouted out before.
There was only one thing in Harry’s favor—Pete was a slow thinker.
When they came to a Y, Pete shoved him to the left. He listened carefully, but he only heard Gina call out once.
Then there was nothing.
* * * *
Gina ran fast and hard, but the rough terrain kept her tripping over rocks and broken pieces of timbers. She couldn’t go back; Rocky would be there waiting for her. She’d gotten away once, but she knew it wasn’t going to happen a second time.
The air was stale as she ran deeper and deeper into the mine shaft.
Should have listened to Harry when he was trying to teach me about the mines.
Harry! Where are you?
She was breathless, had to stop, had no idea how long she’d been running. She leaned over and rested her hands on her thighs while she tried to slow her breathing. It didn’t help; she continued to gasp for air. It was useless, she couldn’t take another step.
An eternity later she started moving again, slowly, drifting from one side of the mine shaft to the other, banging into the walls, not knowing where she was or what to do next. Her muscles were cramping; pain was stabbing every part of her.
The light bulbs were getting farther and farther apart until suddenly there was only the dimmest of light around her … and only blackness ahead.
Exhausted, she slumped to her knees, fell against the wall.
Chapter 36
Tuva was squeezed into the window seat of a 767. The plane was jam-packed; everyone was inhaling and exhaling the same stale air. Babies were screaming, and the kid behind her wouldn’t stop kicking her seat.
It’s like being in steerage ... the real designation of economy fare. Just once in my life I’d like to fly first class.
She clutched a book she’d bought at a Kennedy International kiosk. Why she ever thought she could read when she hated to fly was beyond her. Margaret Lucke’s House of Whispers deserved more than sweaty fingers practically tearing off the cover with each air bump, large or small.
The plane began to bounce up and down, roll from side to side. The woman in the seat next to Tuva looked at her with sympathy. “It’ll stop, dear, as soon as we get past the mountains.”
“It would have been easier if I could have flown direct. Once up, once dow
n. ” She grabbed onto the armrests with both hands. “Stupid to be so freaked out, huh?”
The woman was somewhere in her fifties and had the brightest red hair Tuva had ever seen. “I used to be exactly the same way,” she said.
“You look like you have it together now.”
“Well, a really smart old lady told me something once and I’ve been fine with flying ever since.”
Tuva laughed, but her heart was in her throat and she gave the book another sweaty squeeze. She couldn’t help it. The lurching plane reminded her of another of her worst nightmares—roller coasters.
“What did she say?”
“When your time’s up … it’s up.” The woman chuckled and patted Tuva’s hand. “It sounds corny, but one day you’ll see the wisdom of it.”
“I suppose.” But right now she didn’t. Nor did she think that old phrase was funny or terribly wise. “I’ll have to think about that,” she said, not wanting to be impolite. She turned back to the window and watched the layer of clouds below her, hiding any sign of land.
I must be crazy to just drop out of a new job and load up my credit card to run to Nevada.
But she kept staring out the window at the empty sky above, and the blob of clouds below.
No, there’s something’s wrong. I have to do this, find out for sure whether Mom is okay.
* * * *
Tuva whizzed through the Reno airport, her carry-on rolling close behind her.
When she got to the Avis counter, one of the hottest guys she’d ever seen was handling customer requests. When it was her turn, she stepped up and almost fainted when the most gorgeous pair of aqua eyes met hers.
“Good morning. Welcome to Reno.”
Her tongue felt fuzzy. It wouldn’t move.
“Too much air time, huh?”
“Yeah. I’ve pretty much had it.”
“Are you here on business?”
“No, it’s a personal matter. I’ll going to Carson City.”
A look of disappointment crossed his face. “Well, let’s get you out and moving. What kind of car do you have in mind, Ms. Goldmich?”
“Cheap.”
Man, are those the whitest teeth in the universe, or what?
“I think I have just the car for you. How about a Ford Fiesta? Easy on the pocketbook but a decent ride.” He laughed and she felt as though rainbows had fallen all over her. “I bet you’d love the bright red color.”
They did all the paperwork. He gave her the keys and directions for picking up the car, and as she turned to go, he pulled out a business card. “If you end up spending any time in Reno, I’d love to hear from you.”
“Thanks,” she said, finally looking away from his face and taking in his name tag for the first time. “Carlos … don’t be surprised if I call.”
“I’m counting on it.”
* * * *
Driving from Reno to Carson City was spectacular with the fall array of colors on the trees scattered throughout Washoe Valley. It made her realize how fantastic the West was, with its combination of empty spaces and hovering mountains. Then guilt hit her. Here she was enjoying herself when she should have been back at her drafting table in New York.
Carlos had suggested a reasonable motel at the edge of town and he’d called ahead for her. She drove into the Happy Sleeper parking lot and registered for three days. They let her into her room even though she was an early check-in. She rolled in her small suitcase, set it in the corner, and after tossing off her shoes, dove onto the bed.
She was awakened by the hot sunlight coming in through the window and shining on her face. She sat up with a start and looked at the clock-radio on the bed stand.
“Oh, my God! It’s three o’clock already.”
She jumped up and headed for the bathroom.
Half an hour later, she was in her car and on the way. The map showed Virginia City clearly, and she knew Comstock Medical was only a short distance before that.
But she drove past the turnoff and had to make a 180 when she reached the sign welcoming her to VC. Within a short time she found the actual road and wondered why the sign was so tiny and obscure for a supposedly major medical facility.
Moving down the entry road, she passed a continuous line of large boulders that seemed to absorb all the light and brightness from the sky. An uneasy feeling began to weigh down on her shoulders.
She parked in one of the three designated Visitor spaces in front of the building.
Looks like they didn’t plan on too many people dropping by.
The building was far smaller than she’d expected. She had assumed it would be like a large hospital or institutional-type of building instead of this three-story structure.
She locked up the car and stared up at the second floor windows.
Bars?
As she stepped inside, she was sure she heard a buzz nearby. There was no reception desk.
She stood there trying to figure out what to do next when a man came out of an office down the hall and walked up to her.
“Is there something I can do for you, Miss? I’m Ethan Dayton, the Comstock administrator.” His smile never touched his eyes and her first instinct was to turn around and leave as fast as she could.
“I’m Tuva Goldmich,” she said just as formally. “I’ve come to see my mother, Emma Goldmich.”
Ethan’s face turned lead white. “Oh, yes!” He held out a hand.
“Why don’t we go into my office?” He pointed down the hallway. “This is rather strange; I was just working on your mother’s discharge papers. How fortuitous that you came here just now. Probably saved us a lot of back and forth telephone calls.”
When she was seated in his office, he said, “Allow me a few minutes and I’ll take you up to see her. I know she’ll be happy to have you here.”
After the administrator stepped out, Tuva exhaled all of her anxieties. She hadn’t eaten much in the last 24 hours; it was probably what was making her jumpy.
It’s going to be all right.
She smiled as she started planning her mom’s temporary living arrangements—her mother would take the bedroom, Tuva would sleep on the couch. It would only be that way until she could work out a more permanent solution.
Tuva was happy and relaxed for the first time after three weeks of uncertainty and worry.
Life’s pretty funny … if I’d waited just a few more days, Mr. Dayton would have called me.
Oh, well. I’m glad I’m here.
She closed her eyes, but she was really high, couldn’t wait for everything to come together, to finally see her mom after three long weeks.
As she opened her eyes, a fist slammed into her face and a large hand smashed against her face, covering her nose and mouth. She fought to push it away, but it was useless; the person was too strong. She couldn’t catch her breath… there was no air. Spots of red exploded in her head.
Help!
Her arm was yanked out, a stabbing pain jolted her.
Help! Can’t breathe!
A jack hammer was drilling into her head; her heart was exploding.
Spinning … spinning … spinning … turning black … blacker.
Helpmehelpmehelpme!
Chapter 37
Carl Krueger and his wife Annie zoomed along the two-lane Geiger Grade in a Porsche Boxster. This is what he missed living in New York City—owning a car that hugged the curves like two lovers in a swelling climax.
Man, this is living.
The rental cost for the low-slung roadster was exorbitant, but Carl didn’t care … the glorious drive up the twisting mountain grade made it worth every penny. Too bad he couldn’t put the Porsche on his expense account. It would have been nice, but when you got right down to it, it didn’t matter much—a great ride was a great ride.
The view as they circled the mountain?
Nothing to knock yourself out over. Just a bleak panorama of dried-up shrubs and scattered rocks of every conceivable size and shape.
&n
bsp; Annie had barely spoken during the plane ride from New York to Reno. She’d just begun to indulge in monosyllabic conversation, but a big frown rode her forehead every time she looked at him.
“Sorry to drag you away,” Carl said, “but there’s something we have to talk about—”
“We can’t talk in New York?”
“I don’t think so. Actually, there’re a couple of issues—”
“Uh hum.”
“Anyway, I think you’re going to like the Ore House in Virginia City. It’s supposed to be a great little hotel from what I’ve read, and the meals are about as gourmet as they come in this part of the world.”
He could see she wasn’t buying into any of his limp preliminaries. When they came to a flat open area, he pulled off to the side of the road and turned to her. “Okay, Annie, let’s talk.”
She turned to face him. “About time, don’t you think? Why I ever married a law officer is beyond me … silent … uptight. I've been sitting here wondering how long it would take you to just spill it out. Heck, I guess I’m lucky you didn’t take me to Alaska.”
Is she yanking my chain, or what?
He felt indignant, but was trying to avoid a fight so he let her comment ride.
“Annie?”
“Oh, for God’s sake will you please say what you need to say? You’ve been impossible the past two weeks.” She reached for his hand. “What is it, Carl?”
He let it all fall out like a big cow plop. “I’ve transferred out of OCI to go back to my old FBI unit in LA.” He was wincing so hard he could feel his face scrunching as he waited for the hammer to fall. “I mean, I feel really bad. I know you love New York—”
She held her hand up to stop him. Her fair skin was blanched, if that was possible, or was it the sun shining on her face?
“You think I don’t know you, Carlie?”
“Well … yeah, I guess you do after all these years.”
“I knew New York and I were living on borrowed time. An LA brat like you can’t live without his car and the beach.”
“But what about you, Annie?"
Bone Pit: A Chilling Medical Suspense Thriller (The Gina Mazzio Series Book 3) Page 20