Out of fear of the obsequious little counselor.
Up ahead, he saw Vaughn’s sedan pulling into the security station. Cole swallowed hard, slowing the car as a crazed idea occurred to him. What if he just talked to the man? Whoever they were, the Smiths’ covers were blown anyway. What could it cost him to just tell Cole the truth?
Through the open car window, Vaughn surrendered his visitor’s pass and then waved inanely to the guard as he drove away.
Cole swore. Dropping one hand from the wheel, he patted his pockets in a panicked inventory. Cell phone. Wallet. Nothing else. The image of his pass card in the kitchen drawer arose. Hoping Robert had left his behind, Cole searched the rest of the car desperately. The console revealed only gas station receipts. The back seats were empty. Reaching over, he yanked open the glove box and then froze.
A slow breath escaped him as he stared at the handgun.
Quickly, he slammed the glove box closed. He’d forgotten Robert kept a weapon in there.
Running a shaking hand over his hair, Cole checked the streets, knowing what he’d see. No other way out of the walled neighborhood existed. And Vaughn was getting away. Without any option, he took a deep breath and pulled up next to the security booth.
“I, um… I forgot my card…” he said uncomfortably.
Radiating annoyance, the guard glanced away from his basketball game to run his eyes over Cole’s face with a clear message of loathing for the lazy little rich boy in daddy’s sedan. “Yeah, whatever,” he said, flicking the gate switch as he returned to watching the tiny television.
Cole floored it as the gate swung wide.
Vaughn’s car had reached the intersection. After coming to a brief stop, the vehicle turned away from town, heading down the country road that led to the interstate.
Drawing a steadying breath, Cole pulled after him and tried to focus. Talking to the counselor aside, Vaughn had just threatened to kill the Smiths. Vaughn was clearly not a nice man. But Vaughn knew what was going on. Hell, Vaughn was at the heart of whatever was going on, and Cole desperately needed answers.
So how was he going to get the guy to talk?
Of their own volition, Cole’s eyes flicked toward the glove box, and he forced his gaze back to the road as his blood pressure spiked. Holding the man at gunpoint. Stupid option. Twenty-to-life would put a serious kink in his college plans.
Feeling slightly hysterical, he took another breath. It was okay. His adoptive parents had attacked him. They were in league with a guy who’d been psychologically prodding him for the past eight years. No reason to panic. He could handle this. He just needed a plan.
The taillights of the counselor’s car flashed, and the sedan pulled onto the shoulder.
He had no plan.
For a fleeting moment, he considered just driving past the man. The city of Monfort in the northern reaches of Utah fronted all manner of empty places he could go.
In a stolen car. With a gun in the glove compartment. And no answers.
He pulled over.
The door of the sedan ahead of him swung open, and Vaughn climbed out, annoyance clear on his face. “Robert, what the hell is wrong with you?” he called, holding up a hand to block the glare of the headlights. “Why are you–”
Cole stepped from the car.
The man’s words died. Thoughts flickered over his face, too fast to follow, and though his expression settled into something approaching pleasant confusion, the sharp look never left his eyes. “Well, this is a surprise. What’s up, Cole? What brings you out here so late?”
“I heard what you said to Melissa and Robert.”
Vaughn paused. “What I said to–” He chuckled as though baffled. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“About them having a job to do… controlling me.”
He felt ridiculous saying it.
The counselor’s eyebrows climbed. “Controlling you? Cole, you sure you’re feeling alright?”
“What were you talking about?” he continued, shifting warily as the counselor walked toward him.
“I think you were having a dream. Do your parents know you’re out here?”
“What were you talking about?” he insisted, heart pounding.
Vaughn came up and leaned on the car. “Cole,” he sighed, pulling out his cell phone. “Why don’t we discuss this tomorrow, eh? We can have another session. But right now, I think we’d better call your–”
The man cut off. A few miles away, a car turned onto the country road. “Parents,” the counselor finished, not taking his eyes from the distant headlights.
Cole glanced back as a second car followed the first. “I’m not leaving till you–”
Vaughn grabbed him, shoving him backward and then pinning him against the car. With his free hand, the man yanked the handle, fighting to hold Cole and open the door at the same time.
Desperately, Cole slammed his fist into the man’s gut, and then twisted out of his grasp. Stumbling backward, he rounded the trunk, trying to keep the sedan between him and the counselor.
Swiftly, Vaughn glanced between Cole and the approaching vehicles. “Get in the car, kid,” he growled.
Cole threw a quick look to the road as he retreated. The cars were coming closer. Whatever was going on, they were worrying Vaughn, and right now that was all that mattered. Drawing a breath, Cole shifted his weight and braced himself to make a run for it.
Vaughn charged. Bolting from behind the car, Cole made it only a few steps before the man snagged the back of his sweatshirt, twisted him around sharply, and then hurled him through the air.
Branches stabbed him as he crashed into the overgrown ditch a dozen feet away. His head ringing horribly, Cole shoved up on one arm, blinking in shock.
He looked to the road and then froze as Vaughn drew a gun from beneath his sports coat.
“Pull up your hood and get beneath those bushes,” the man ordered, dividing his attention between Cole and the approaching cars. “Don’t make a sound. You move, you’re dead, understand?”
Warily, Cole complied. Eyeing him a moment longer, Vaughn slipped the weapon beneath his jacket, and then swiftly rounded the car to yank the trunk release by the driver’s seat. Returning to the rear of the sedan, he lifted the trunk lid and then paused. One hand on the metal lid, Cole saw the man close his eyes and take a breath as though trying to remain calm. Drawing out the jumper cables, Vaughn slammed the trunk and then glanced back toward the other cars.
High beams blazing, the two vehicles pulled to a stop a few yards away. Vaughn raised a hand, shielding his eyes.
“No help needed, thanks!” he called cheerily, waving as though to motion them on.
A man stepped from the nearest vehicle.
Cole froze, suddenly wondering if Robert and Melissa had been right. He was seeing things. He was losing his mind.
Because the man was glowing.
“Seems you’re having some car trouble,” the man said with a smile. From the vehicles behind him, three other men climbed out.
A faint silvery sheen covered them, obscured by their clothes but blatantly visible on every piece of exposed skin. Cole’s heart pounded as he stared at them, making his headache surge back in full force.
Clearly, he’d hit his head a whole lot harder than he thought this morning.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Vaughn replied, giving no sign he noticed the surreal glow coming from the other men. “The wife’s car just died. You know how it is.”
The man chuckled agreeably, the humor never touching his eyes. “Right,” he said, glancing to his companions.
Metal shrieked as the driver’s side door of Vaughn’s sedan tore from its hinges and scythed through the air. Spinning, the counselor threw his hands in front of his face. The door rocketed into the night sky. Whirling around, Vaughn barely had time to flinch before the closest of the men slammed into him, crushing him against the trunk of Robert’s car.
The counselor’s head snapped sideways, pr
opelled by nothing Cole could see. Blood dripped from his mouth, and from the bushes, Cole could hear him fighting for air against the weight of the man bearing down on him.
“What do you want?” Vaughn gasped.
Disgust twisted the man’s face. “What do you think? Give us the boy.”
Cole’s blood went cold.
“What boy?” Vaughn asked, and then choked as the man pressed down against his throat.
“Do not play stupid with me, toady,” the man growled. He looked to the others. “Search the area. There’s a reason two cars are here.” His gaze returned to Vaughn, and a humorless smile curved his mouth. “Maybe he’s protecting someone.”
The men fanned out, two heading for the counselor’s sedan while one started down into the ditch.
Cole held his breath. Dried and crackled from the winter, every twig around him seemed like a firecracker waiting to explode. Boots crunched over the gravel, and suddenly the beam of a flashlight skewered the bushes ahead of him.
He couldn’t move. His eyes fixed on the light sweeping the ground as the other men yelled that the car was empty. The beam of the flashlight swung closer.
A cell phone rang.
Cole’s heart nearly climbed out of his chest.
The man paused, thumbing on his phone as the beam of his flashlight came to rest mere feet from Cole’s head. “Keller here.”
He listened briefly, and then flicked the phone off again. The light swung away as he scaled back up the slope of the ditch.
“Reece,” he called. Vaughn’s captor glanced up. “Bartlow made the deal.”
“He bought it?”
Keller nodded. “Simeon wants us to drop everything and get there now. They’re taking them out the minute Brogan arrives.”
Seeming torn, Reece glanced to the others. “You didn’t find anything in the car?”
The men shook their heads. “Picture of a woman,” one volunteered. “Could be a wife.”
Reece sighed. “You were telling the truth, toady?” he asked Vaughn. He shook his head in disappointment, and then took the man by the collar, pulling him upright. “Damn.”
Vaughn didn’t have time to scream as he flew back. His body slammed into his sedan with a crunch and blood splattered the trunk.
Cole stared. Limply, the counselor’s body slid to the ground, where a dark pool spread beneath his head onto the gravel.
“Roadside accidents,” Reece commented.
Keller made a noise of agreement.
“So did Simeon tell you anything else?” Reece continued, turning away from the scene.
“There’s seven guards with him,” Keller answered, and then he grinned. “And his two little girls.”
“He’s with his kids?”
“One fell swoop.”
Reece exhaled. “How far?”
“Close.”
Anticipation shone in Reece’s eyes. “Go,” he ordered. As he slid with Keller into the nearest sedan, the other men rushed for the second car.
Both vehicles sped off into the night.
Trembling, Cole crawled from the bushes and rose shakily to his feet, his gaze sliding to the body on the roadside.
His gorge rose. Blood dripped from the trunk, falling silently on the corpse below. Vaughn’s corpse. After they killed him.
Spinning, Cole vomited into the bushes, heaving and choking as his stomach tried to turn itself inside out.
A minor eternity crept by. Wiping his mouth, he straightened and walked away from the bushes toward his adoptive father’s car.
Robert’s sedan was in good shape, all things considered. Not too many dents or scratches or anything. The keys were still in his pocket too, which was nice. It just seemed like it was taking a while for him to reach the door.
Numbly, he noticed he’d stopped walking.
He was in shock, he realized. This was what shock felt like. Because right now, the fact that four glowing men had killed the guy posing as his counselor, after having ripped the door from a car without touching it, was being hastily filed away in a tiny black box marked ‘things that didn’t just happen’.
People couldn’t be after him. No one would ever kill to find him. He just needed to get out of here and forget about this, because Vaughn couldn’t possibly be dead, his parents couldn’t have attacked him, and there was no way those superpowered figments of his imagination had just driven off to…
His thoughts skidded to a halt.
To kill two little girls.
Cole’s eyes slid toward the distant taillights, watching as they raced for the horizon.
He was going crazy. He’d lost sight of the deep end an hour before and the only rational decision was to swim back now.
Two little girls.
His mother, dead on the carpet. His father, shot in the hallway. Masked men, storming his room.
And one person, calling the police to save his life.
He drew a slow breath. He couldn’t call the cops without telling them where the men were heading. And he wouldn’t know that unless…
Vaughn’s voice echoed back to him, telling him to stay down or he’d die.
This was what shock felt like when it was breaking.
Cole ran for the car.
Chapter Three
Now
With a clunk, the book hit the ground and Ashley jerked awake.
At the sudden motion, her neck twinged and she winced. Moving gingerly, she shifted out of her awkward position against the window frame and rubbed her neck with a hand still tingling from being pinned between her body and the wall. Red imprints in the shape of the window molding marked her arm, and she suspected from the weird feeling on her face that they crossed her cheek as well.
She could just picture Jonathan’s expression when he found out she’d once again fallen asleep only inches from her bed.
Rolling her shoulders to loosen them, she glanced at the clock on the nightstand and instantly regretted it. Depressingly small numbers glowed back at her, burning indelibly into her mind the math of how few hours’ sleep she’d have till sunrise.
With a sigh, she reached down, retrieving the book from the floor and then tucking it beneath the window cushion. Propping herself against the nightstand, she fumbled for the lamp switch and then clicked it off.
A strange, orange glow filled the room.
Deep in her stomach, she felt herself start quivering.
With tremulous control, she pushed to her feet. Her eyes locked on the shifting shadows and light playing over the dark walls, tracing them back to the window on the far side of the room.
Orange ghosts shimmered on the casement. Her hand clutched at the rail of the footboard as she navigated around the bed, and when she came into view of the window, she forgot how to breathe.
Fire engulfed the barn.
Black silhouettes against the light, the farmhands looked tiny as they battled the towering blaze. Broken beams shifted in and out of view behind the curtains of flame, and from the ranch house, she could hear someone ringing the alarm bell, though she could already tell that the structure was a loss.
All that mattered now was getting everyone out before the embers spread the flames.
Gasping, she whirled from the window and tore across the room. The door crashed against the dresser as she threw it open, toppling books to the ground. Taking the steps two at a time, she raced to the second floor and landed with a thud at the foot of the stairs.
“Dad!” she screamed.
Not waiting for him, she dashed into Lily’s room, skidding on the paper and crushing crafts beneath her feet. The little girl blinked blearily and let out a confused cry as Ashley ripped the blanket away and then yanked the child to her feet.
Ashley glanced back as Patrick’s door flew open.
He took in the dark hall and his panicked daughter in a glance. “What’s going on?”
“Fire. The barn.”
Spinning back toward Lily, she grabbed the girl’s jeans from the floor and
pushed them into her sister’s hands. “Come on.”
Dragging the girl behind her, she headed for the door. “Jonathan and the others are out there,” she called over her shoulder. “The stupid hay probably wasn’t dry enough. But they’re trying to put it out.”
She rushed down the stairs. Pausing in the foyer, she shoved her feet into her shoes and quickly motioned for Lily to do the same. Patrick pushed past them both, heading for the back door. Glancing to her sister, Ashley tried to smile.
“It’s going to be fine, Lil.”
The girl nodded nervously as she pulled on her jeans and shoes.
Clutching Lily’s hand, Ashley hurried after her father. Yanking open the door, he started down the concrete stairs, his daughters on his heels.
At a popping noise, Patrick stopped. Ashley jerked to a halt behind him, confused. His brow furrowed as he glanced back at her, and she couldn’t understand the look in his eyes.
He tumbled down the steps to the ground.
“Daddy?” Lily cried.
Ashley stared.
Blood spread like water from the holes in his chest, dyeing his pale t-shirt red. Choking wetly, his face crumpled in bewilderment and pain as he dragged his gaze over to hers.
“Run,” he gasped.
Ashley stumbled down the stairs, crashing to her knees by his side. Bubbles of blood hovered around his lips, with more frothing up every time he breathed.
This couldn’t be happening.
This wasn’t real.
“Jonathan!” she screamed.
She tore her gaze from her father and scanned the fields desperately. He had to be there. He would help them.
The farmhands walked away from the flames. The person on the steps dropped the bell and headed their way.
And from behind the hillocks around the farm, masked men with rifles rose to join them.
Lily whimpered, fingers digging into Ashley’s arm.
“Ashley,” Patrick whispered. “Run.”
She looked down as his head lolled sideways to face the approaching men. Determination flickered through his eyes.
White light surrounded her and rushing air roared in her ears. Distantly, she heard Lily screaming. And then something soft crushed into her.
The Children and the Blood Page 5