“Right. But it’s password protected.”
“Do you know the password?”
“As long as it hasn’t been changed. As I said, I haven’t used it in a long time.” Aileen is leaning partway across in front of Tanya. I’m leaning from the other direction. Tanya is sitting back listening to the exchange. The music ends and Aileen waits for another to cue up. “What are you thinking?”
“What if someone were to go up and set off the alarm on one of the emergency doors? That someone could run back down here. By that time the guard at the desk should be in the main elevator heading up to the ground floor. We book it to the staff elevator which we take up to the ground floor. From there we can get out two different ways.”
Aileen leans back.
“I hate to be the devil’s advocate,” Tanya says, “but then what? How do we get past the animals?”
“I can get us to the gardens, and into the barn,” Aileen says. “From there I don’t know.”
I’m still leaning on Tanya’s leg. “The four cats hang out in the third garden. Chances are we could leave from the barn and make it to the fence without being noticed. Also, they’ve had a cow and the guy who tried to escape. I don’t think they’ll be hungry. Even in Africa the lions and the antelope can hang around the same watering hole if the lions aren’t hungry. We could probably walk right on by the sabre-toothed cats, maybe even stop and give them a pet.”
Aileen re-props herself on Tanya’s other leg and laughs. “Maybe, but I wouldn’t count on it.”
“Once through that area we only need to get over the fence.”
“There’s barbed wire at the top.”
“You’re not going to get me over that–no way.” Tanya shakes her head. “There has to be another way. How about if we just cut through the fence?”
“With what?” I’m more than aware that this is the closest Tanya has let me get to her since she smelled Aileen on me. She is virtually sandwiched between us. I’d be willing to bet that no matter how uncomfortable she gets, she’ll not give up the space. “The road that the animal truck comes in on–where does that go? Where’s the gate?”
“I don’t know. Never been there.”
“Where do the Mexican men live?”
“Somewhere out there is all I know.”
“Do they have security guards?”
“I assume so. But I don’t know who they’d be. I can account for all the guards we have here.”
“I don’t think they’re inside this compound. While on the roof, I could see the top of a building just beyond the tree line, beyond the outer perimeter fence. They’re probably inside their own compound.” Aileen and I sit back and the three of us stare at the blank television screen. It seems like an impossible mission but my instincts keep telling me that to wait until tomorrow to face whoever would be even worse. It would be death to one of us, maybe all three of us. I lean on Tanya’s leg again. “We’ve got to do it. My psychic gut says we have no other choice.”
Aileen leans forward and around Tanya again. “Okay.”
We both look at Tanya. She shakes her head. “I don’t like it. They’re dangerous animals, there’s a fence I don’t think I can get over, and it’s cold. We don’t have coats or gloves or anything. If nothing else, we’ll freeze to death.”
“There’s foul weather gear in the barn, maybe even something in the mud room or the first garden.”
“Would there be something like a heavy rain slicker or tarp?” I ask.
“Maybe.”
“If there is we can get over the barbed wire with that.”
“Fine!” Tanya says. “That’s not all. Once we’re over where do we go? We’re in the middle of the mountains.”
I reveal the rest of my thoughts. “We should be able to make it over by 3:00, 3:30 latest. From there we head straight south until we hit the highway. We should be able to make that by daybreak. We then hitch a ride into Kalispell, directly to the sheriff.”
“How high is the fence?”
“It’s . . .”
“Five or six feet.” I interrupt Aileen. Tanya doesn’t need to know how high it really is.
“You sure?”
“Seven at the most,” I say, “with the barbed wire.” I can see Tanya measuring that against her own height.
“Maybe I can handle that,” she says, “as long as the barbed wire is covered. What about the animals?”
“Like I said, they’ve got more than enough to eat right now. They’d have no interest in us.”
She looks at Aileen. “I agree,” Aileen says.
She takes a deep breath and then sighs. “Okay. Two o’clock then. But what about the cameras?”
Aileen explains the schedule and how the monitors are unmanned for those ten or fifteen minutes. “Besides,” she says, “they’ll be responding to the door alarm.”
“When we get up we have to have no lights,” I say, “and we have to be totally silent.”
“Right,” Tanya says.
We go through the plan several times. We have to alter it when we remember there are cameras in the gardens. We’ll make it as far as the no-camera area in the first garden and then wait there until the three o’clock rounds, assuming of course that our absence hasn’t been discovered. Then we can proceed through the barn and out into the compound. It’s nine o’clock when we quit.
“Who’s going to wake who?” I ask.
“Is anyone going to sleep?” Aileen says.
“Let’s just meet out here at 1:45.”
And suddenly I’m sitting alone. The upbeat Latin music does nothing to make me upbeat. I turn it off, as well as the lights and then lie on the sofa. The plan feels right and wrong at the same time. Add that to my twisting guts and sudden need to spoon up close with Tanya and I feel like an emotional mess. When things were bad she could always make it go away for a while. I used to call her “my blanky.” That always made her giggle and snuggle a little closer.
Any thought of knocking on her door now, however, makes my stomach twist a little more. I think over what we are about to do and wonder what will go wrong. Something always does. I then think about the personal belongings I’m leaving behind–mainly my laptop. Everything I’ve written since leaving Seattle will be gone. I feel even sicker.
The sofa is uncomfortable. I choose the bedroom connecting to Tanya’s and go lie on the bed. I have no fear that I’ll fall asleep, although I wish I could to pass the time. Would I wake up? What if the women fall asleep? Would they wake up? There’s a bedside clock/alarm, but to use it would alert security. My mind is so keyed up and my body so nervous I’m sure there’s no way I’d doze off. I put my hands behind my head, stare up at the dark nothingness and think.
There’s a rustle. My bed moves. Was I asleep? Am I asleep? Who is it? What if it’s Aileen? Can’t be. But why would it be Tanya? She’s not in a forgiving mood. Aileen would not be so stupid; would she? I push the thought of Aileen away and hope it is Tanya.
The bed stops moving but she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t touch me.
I wait.
I’m counting heart beats again. That’s something I always do when we have disagreements and lie in silence next to each other. Maybe it’s to buffer my anger, focus my thoughts on something other than our argument. I’m not angry now but I need something to relax me against the anticipation of her next move, her words.
I hit one hundred and then start again.
It’s right at the end of the second hundred that she whispers, “Are you asleep?”
“No,” I whisper back.
“Are you scared?”
I think about that. I’m apprehensive about being caught by security, fearful of being caught by the cats, concerned about the trek down to the highway. Am I scared? I don’t think so. If I’m at the top of a ladder trying to paint the second story on the house and the wind comes up and I feel the ladder move–that’s scared. “I’m scared as hell,” I say because I know she is and she’ll feel better knowing
she isn’t alone. Of course we may have different definitions of scared. I’m afraid but not scared. That to me means I can maintain my wits in a fearful situation and do the right thing. A technicality maybe, but a definition I can deal with. Tanya doesn’t like to be scared alone. Her definition of scared may be just fearful. When things get bad will she freeze up, like I do at the top of shaking ladders?
She reaches over and takes my hand. I respond to the comfortably familiar. She moves closer. I’m not sure that’s because she wants to be close or so that her whispered words could be heard. I look at her in the dark.
She rolls to face me. “If we’re about to die . . .”
“We aren’t about to die,” I say. I turn onto my side. I can barely see her face from the nightlight in the open bathroom. She must have come in that way.
“I pray you’re right, but if you’re not I don’t want to die angry at you. I think that’s what I’m most scared of. And if you die and the last words with you are in anger; I don’t think I could live with that.”
“Me neither.” I’m sincere. “Worse yet is if you were to die instead of me, not only would I feel responsible, I would not be able to go on without your forgiveness.”
“I forgive you.”
“No! I don’t want you forgiving me just because we might die. I’d rather earn your forgiveness.”
“I love you. That should be enough. You made a mistake. After this we need to get on with our lives.” She says nothing for a long while. We stare into the darkness of each other’s face. “But,” she suddenly says, “that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.”
“Oh.”
“If I die, you’re still responsible. That, you will have to live with.”
“Okay.”
“I think we have only two options.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“We either both die, or both live.”
“I can agree with that.”
“Or, if only I die, Aileen had better go with me.”
I can’t tell if she’s serious or not.
“I don’t want to be sitting up there on a cloud watching you and her together, or watching her raise my children.”
“I don’t think that would happen,” I say.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. How about if we just agree to both get out alive?”
“I like that better.”
The silence is long.
“Hold me, please,” she says.
“I’d love to.” I roll to my back and she settles her head onto my shoulder. She sleeps. I remain awake and alert to the sounds around us; the male of the species on guard for his mate. I wonder about Aileen, alone in another room, scared or fearful with no one to comfort and protect her. When this is all over she’ll still be alone, more alone than ever. I feel a certain responsibility for her as well, even though she helped start this entire thing. Somehow or other I still see her as an innocent player. I actually have thoughts of her coming to visit us in Dallas afterwards. Crazy thoughts . . . guilty thoughts for sure, but my thoughts nevertheless. I can’t make myself not like her.
At 12:30 Tanya awakes and asks what time it is. I tell her and she rolls to her other side. I spoon around her, pull her in close and wait out the next hour and fifteen minutes.
Chapter 28
“It’s too chancy,” Aileen says. We are sitting on dining chairs in the living room, in the pitch black with no music. Even the soft nightlight in the kitchen has been extinguished. We’ve formed a tight circle in order to put our heads close and talk. “The possibility of running into security while trying to get to your apartment is high. As it is now our chances of getting out are high, and with four or five hours of lead time. We could be talking to the sheriff by the time they realize we’re gone.”
“But my life is on that computer.”
“You and the two of us may not have any more life if you get caught. No. I vote against it.”
“I agree with Aileen,” Tanya says.
My idea of retrieving my laptop is voted out. My stomach tightens at the thought of losing it all. I lean back in the chair and we all go silent for a time. I think of what I’ll lose and try to convince myself it is not all that much, other than a fifteen hundred dollar computer.
Suddenly Aileen’s hand is on my leg. I am instantly alarmed, especially with Tanya’s close proximity on my other knee. The way we are sitting we are touching knee-to-knee. Her hand continues up my thigh, to my hip and then finds my arm. She slides down my arm until she gets my hand and then jerks me forward. My head bumps with both of theirs. “Damn it, Zach. We can’t talk if you’re going to sit back there. We need to go over this again.”
“Sorry.”
The light on her watch illuminates. “It’s 1:54. Six minutes plus another two for safety and then we go.”
“Agreed,” says Tanya.
“You hold my boots, Tanya. I’d be quieter bare-foot.”
“Okay.”
“Crack the door and watch for security to get on the elevator. When he does, step out into the hall. I don’t know how fast I’ll be but I don’t want to be coming back down this hall as he steps into view. I’ll peek first. If I see you I’ll know he’s gone. If I don’t see you I’ll wait.”
“On what floor are you going to set off the alarm?” I ask.
“The second. I expect security will be on the fourth floor. I’ll not use the ladies’ elevator as it’ll make noise. I’ll use the stairs.”
“How much noise do the elevators make? We’ll be using one.”
“Have never paid any attention. It’s an unavoidable risk in any case. Once I see it’s clear I’ll join you and we’ll run to the lab. I’ll put my boots back on once we’re in the elevator.”
“What if they’ve changed the password?” Tanya asks.
“Then we’d be in the shits, I’d say.”
Aileen no longer has a perfume scent, but she uses different toothpaste than Tanya. I can smell them both. Our heads are touching and we are looking down at the darkness where our feet are. Our arms are around each other like in a quarterback huddle. Aileen’s arm leaves my back and her watch lights again. Only two minutes have gone by since the last look. Her hand returns to my back.
“We probably should have a plan B,” I say.
“Like what? If I can’t get us into the elevator, we may as well retreat to here and face tomorrow.”
“The three of us could jump the guard and knock him out.”
“We probably could, however that’d give us less than ten minutes lead. The guard making rounds will find him very soon and then the entire building will be up. I doubt we’d make it to the barn before they‘d figure out where we went.”
“It’s still an option,” I say. “I think it’s better than staying.”
“What do you think?” Tanya. “Shall we adopt plan B?”
“Shit! I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“They certainly plan on hurting us,” I remind her.
“I don’t know . . . shit! I hate this. I just want to get out of here.”
“Well it might come down to the fact that that is our only way out.”
“Okay . . . Okay.”
“Agreed then?” I ask.
“Alright,” Aileen says. “Plan B is adopted as a last resort.”
“What else could go wrong?” I say.
“If we accidentally run into the other guard, but I think that’s remote.”
“If so, we’ll institute plan B on him. What else?”
“If they’ve changed the code to the gate out to the gardens.”
“What are the chances of that?” I ask.
“Remote. I see no reason.”
“What else?”
“If the cats are hungrier than we think.”
“Logic dictates they won’t be. Also, if we’re quiet they may not even sense us.”
“Maybe.”
“That’s the part that really scares me,” Tanya says.
“It’ll be okay.” I rub her back and suddenly find Aileen’s hand. I linger there for a second and then move away and continue stroking my half of Tanya’s back. I’m bothered a lot by my own thoughts and feelings. It felt wonderful to have Tanya in my arms the last couple of hours, and I’m comforted by her touch right now. However, the close proximity and touch of Aileen is electric. Her hand rests on my back only inches from where Tanya’s hand rests. Tanya’s hand is warm. Aileen’s hand is hot, almost on fire. After everything it should be cold. Emotions for her, or her for me, should be about as remote as the North Pole, yet here I am aroused beyond my imagination and every point she touches me continues to burn. Not a painful burn but an exciting heat . . . a tingle. Her hand disappears from my back again and then her watch glows.
“Two o’clock,” she says. “Do you mind if I say a prayer?”
“God no,” Tanya says.
“Let’s hold hands then,” she says and I feel her hand find mine on Tanya’s back and I feel the two of them take hands on my back. Tanya and I clasp and then we are about as close together as we can get without standing up. I know I should scold myself for visualizing that, but I don’t.
“Dear Lord,” Aileen says. “We pray that You bless us in what we are about to do and guide and support us. If things should not go well, and any or all of us should lose our lives, we pray that You will forgive us of our sins and gather us into Your arms. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
“Amen,” Tanya and I say together.
“Up,” Aileen says.
We stand and suddenly my visualization of the three of us is well beyond the visualization. We are pressed against each other. I am a few inches taller than them and my cheeks rest against their foreheads. Again Tanya’s body is warm on mine but Aileen’s sends a hot tingle.
“I don’t know why, and I know I shouldn’t, but I love you guys,” Aileen says. She kisses me on the cheek and then Tanya.
“I love and hate you at the same time,” Tanya says.
“I restrain any comment at this point,” I say. Tanya pinches me. “I love you, Tanya, and I like you like a sister, Aileen.”
Sabre-Toothed Cat Trilogy Page 24