by TM Simmons
Nervously, Nodinens tried to reach for the wound, but Channing caught her hand. "I'm going to put another IV port in. But first, I'll call Nurse PawPaw to bring some things from the clinic. This is serious, my friend. Sometimes, no matter how hard we try, we miss something in a wound. There could be a tiny thread of your nightgown we didn't see."
"What is happening?" Nodinens finally managed.
"Let me check a couple other things before I decide for sure what the problem is, or could be."
She took Nodinens' temperature, which showed only a small elevation. However, that could indicate the beginning of a problem. The elderly woman had an elevated pulse, also, possibly from nervousness about what was wrong with her. However, given that and the slightly above normal temperature, along with what looked like a beginning rash around the wound, Channing's instincts told her otherwise. She made her decision.
"You've possibly got the beginning of sepsis," Channing said. "You'd know it as blood poisoning. It can be deadly, Nodinens. We need to find an oral antibiotic you can tolerate, but first I'll get you back on the IV antibiotics.
Nodinens cooperated without further argument. After Channing called the nurse, she gave Nodinens a pain pill and re-cleaned the wound. She didn't find any overlooked debris that could cause the infection, and she hoped the new treatment would be effective. She also banned visitors beyond necessary nursing care, at least until the wound responded to treatment. Sepsis was deadly.
With her patient back in bed and Nurse PawPaw on duty, Channing informed the bodyguards what was going on and turned answering the phone over to one of them. Then she realized she had left herself without any busy-work. As hard as she tried to fight it, her mind focused on Nenegean.
Chapter 42
Keoman answered his phone on the first ring.
"It's me. Channing," she said, in case he hadn't checked Caller ID. "Can you update me on whether or not you're any closer to finding this pedophile?"
"It's like he's a ghost," Keoman told her with a frustrated sigh.
"Or," Channing responded, "hiding in plain sight."
"I know what you mean. Hjak talked to Dr. Densmore a couple times. According to the doctor, this bastard's probably someone who's part of our community. Someone we consider a friend. But how the hell can we figure out who it is from that? We've all got a few friends."
Keoman lowered his voice. "Densmore said the molester's urges have escalated and are too strong for him to resist now. The out-of-town deaths were a few months apart. Lately, he's taking more risks. Getting to children we think are being watched too closely for him take."
"I need to talk to Nenegean, Keoman."
"No," Keoman said, his voice flat. "For one thing, she doesn't know who the man is, either."
"That's not why I want to talk to her. I have to let her know we're hunting this man, also. That she doesn't need to take any more children to get our attention."
"For another," Keoman said, totally ignoring what she had just said, "you can't predict how Nenegean will react. You can't be sure she's wanting to communicate with you. She could be tricking you. Trying to get close enough to kill you."
"Why would she do that?" Channing argued. "I haven't —"
When she didn't finish her thought, Keoman said, "Are you seeing it now? You attacked her with the shield to protect me. You also wounded her with an arrow to protect Grant. She's not going to forget that. She could want revenge."
Channing's anger flared. "You can't all have it both ways. Either Nenegean is a total animal, acting on instinct only, or she's got some cognizant abilities. All right, maybe she does have a need for revenge festering in her mind. Perhaps even for what was done to her when she lived. But that means she has a mind. It means we have a chance to reason with her. To make her see it's dangerous to steal the children to get our attention."
"I think you're wrong about that. She definitely didn't want us to find those first two children."
"But she took the others to the cavern, where she knew you would find and rescue them. Damn it, why is everyone so obtuse?"
"Nenegean's a monster."
"Nenegean's a mother, Keoman," Channing said softly.
When he didn't respond, she thought perhaps they had lost their connection. However, he finally said, "I have to go," and the connection severed.
Channing stared at the display window for several seconds. Then she raced up the stairs to Nodinens' room. As she expected, a guard was talking to Nodinens and PawPaw.
Face white with strain, Nodinens looked over at Channing. "Another child is missing."
"Oh, god. They've checked the cavern?"
"The men there have not seen Nenegean."
"Then it has to be the pedophile."
Instead of responding, Nodinens laid back against the pillow and closed her eyes. Channing exchanged worried looks with PawPaw and hurried over to examine her.
"Her fever's normal," PawPaw said even as Channing reached for the thermometer on the bedside table. "I just changed the bandage again. I think we caught the infection in time."
Nodinens opened her eyes as Channing went ahead and ran the thermometer across her forehead. "I am not sick from the wound. I am sick from what is happening. It could be Nenegean, carrying her to another place where she could die before she is found."
"You could be right," Channing replied glumly. She checked the thermometer and confirmed PawPaw's diagnosis before she asked the bodyguard, "Nodinens indicated it was another little girl. Where was she taken from?"
"The casino daycare," the man replied.
Astonished, Channing asked, "How? That place is like Fort Knox."
He only shrugged, then walked out.
Channing's mind raced. She patted Nodinens on the unwounded shoulder and said distractedly, "Get some rest. You want to keep this healing trend going."
Smoothing the sheet and avoiding the other woman's gaze, she hurried toward the door.
"Channing," Nodinens called in a stern voice.
Channing halted only briefly and, without turning, said, "You'll be fine now, Nodinens." Then she strode down the hallway and into her own bedroom.
They don't understand, damn it. She paced back and forth. Even the women involved in this can't see there's going to be no end to it until Nenegean is assured this man won't hurt another child. She frowned as her thoughts veered. What if it was Nenegean who took the child from the daycare? What if it wasn't the human monster? But how on earth could Nenegean get in there? No one saw her, and she doesn't have the ability to make herself invisible, just move incredibly fast.
She lifted the leather pouch from around her neck and shoved it under a pillow on her bed.
It amazed Channing how easy it was. She slipped downstairs and found both bodyguards involved in a conversation in the kitchen. They were filling plates from the multitude of dishes on the counter and never saw her walk past the doorway. She glanced at the alarm panel and saw it blinking unarmed. In the garage, she found what else she needed.
She chose a snowsuit hanging on the wall that appeared to be close to her own size and put it on. She left her own shoes among the row of snow boots, and stifled a pang of guilt as she removed the keys for Nodinens' pickup from a hook. Nodinens had been nothing but kind to Channing, and even her cautions and rules were only attempts to keep Channing safe. Now she was stealing from the woman who had become a good friend. When Channing weighed the loss of the friendship against saving the life of a child, Nodinens unfortunately lost.
Her luck held when Channing checked outside the garage. In respect for one of their elders, no one had dared park in front of the garage door, in case Nodinens decided she needed to go somewhere. She held her breath, though, as she pushed the button to open the door, but it rolled up smoothly and nearly silently. By the time it rose all the way, Channing was inside the pickup, the engine running.
She backed out of the garage, hardly daring to believe no one came out of the house to try to stop her. They must a
ll have been too involved in discussing the missing child to realize she had escaped their guard.
Well aware she could be traced with it, Channing had made the hard decision to leave her phone behind. Before she pulled onto the asphalt road, she verified that Nodinens' phone wasn't in the truck. She didn't see it in the console or glove box and breathed a sigh of relief as she turned onto the county road.
Not toward Neris Lake or the casino. She had to get to the vicinity of the cave where Nenegean had held the children but didn't dare go too close. Instead, she visualized the route taken by the search party Keoman had led, including where Radin had fallen into the deep hole.
That's where she would try to contact Nenegean — where the entity had come to her.
It didn't look like the weather was going to aid her, though. A mile or so into her journey, the pretty white flakes turned to slushy drops. Within another mile, the splats on the windshield weren't responding to the wipers. She checked her rear view mirror to see no one behind her and stopped to figure out the dashboard. Finally, she found the defrost button, and it took a few more moments before it defeated the thin layer of ice that had formed on the glass.
Not knowing that much about four-wheel drive, which Nodinens had told her the pickup was equipped with, she was afraid to engage that. Instead, she drove on at a slower speed, hoping the tires wouldn't lose their grip on the icy pavement.
Fifteen minutes later, even she had to admit this was a bad idea. Though mid-morning, she flipped the headlights on bright. Still, she couldn't see more than a dozen feet ahead. She decided to find somewhere to safely turn around, go back and face the music. She would never find the area she needed in this mess. She hadn't paid that much attention when Keoman drove them there, and in this weather, nothing looked familiar. She caught a glimpse of a roadside sign indicating an intersection ahead and touched the brakes to slow down.
Channing stifled a scream as the rear tires lost traction and the scenery whirled past. The back of the pickup slid in a circle. Then around again. Channing vaguely recalled advice from somewhere about driving in rain in Texas. If the car hydro-planed, the driver should steer in the direction of the skid. She assumed that should work on ice. However, by the time she overcame her panic, the pickup had already stopped, facing back the way she came.
She laid her forehead on the steering wheel until her pounding heart slowed. Finally, she lifted her head and unclenched her grip. She stared out the windshield, where the wipers continued to battle the falling sleet.
She hadn't seen a sign of another vehicle. Even the animals had probably sought shelter, their instincts warning the ice storm was on the way.
The engine had died, and without it the vents blew cold air. That shouldn't have happened, Channing told herself. She didn't think skids disengaged an engine. But the evidence didn't lie. A faint ticking indicated a cooling engine, and that disappeared nearly as soon as she noticed it. Only silence surrounded her, deep silence.
She reached for the key, then realized the gearshift was in Drive. Neither foot was in contact with the floorboard pedals, so she pushed the brake, then shifted into Park. Crossing the fingers of her left hand, she turned the key. The engine fired up and settled into a smooth purr, the vent air warming.
Tense, she cautiously fed the engine some gas. The wheels spun uselessly. She let off the pedal and examined her position. She wasn't directly in line with the tracks left before the skid. Now the pickup sat at a slight angle.
"I'm in the ditch beside the road," she whispered, as much to break the silence as to reason things out. "I guess it's time to figure out this four-wheel drive stuff."
Even after she knew which button to push, the truck remained stubbornly stuck, at least at first. Once she and Grant had gotten bogged in the mud on a back road, and she remembered how he had jockeyed their vehicle out. She slipped the gearshift into Neutral. The truck rocked backwards, and Channing jammed the shifter into Drive and pushed down hard on the gas. Again, then a third time.
It worked … for a moment. The tires hit the roadway and spun the truck again.
This time Channing only muttered, "Shit," and waited out the skid. At least the truck stayed on the road. It halted, facing the endless expanse of untraveled roadway in the direction she had been going before the first skid.
She wasn't alone now. Nenegean stood a hundred feet away, the falling sleet not bothering her.
Chapter 43
Keoman wiped his gloved hand across the plastic helmet shield for the fifth time in the past few minutes. No way could they find Nenegean in this weather. Someone would freeze to death first. The fingers on his right hand were numb with cold. Somehow, he had ripped a hole in his glove when he slipped and fell on his way down the hill from that last cave. Hell, even the animals were snug in their dens, waiting until the sleet ended.
No one had seen any sign of the entity or found any trace of the missing little girl. This entity was proving evasive to all their ways of dealing with the supernatural.
The walkie-talkie in Keoman's pocket squawked with words he couldn't understand. He stopped the snowmobile, pulled the radio out, and pushed the Talk button.
"I didn't hear that."
Gagewin answered him, "Channing's missing."
Keoman's stomach dropped, and the only thing that kept him from squeezing the walkie-talkie until it shattered was his need to hear what else Gagewin said.
"She took Nodinens' truck, and no one knows which way she went. She hasn't been to the casino daycare. I thought maybe she'd go there to see if she could help calm the mother of the child who was taken."
"She's after Nenegean," Keoman said. Fear choked him. "She'd head the opposite way from Nodinens' house."
"Take Radin and look for her. But drive your truck. I hate to make this call, but it's too nasty to keep using the sleds. We'll get back out as soon as we can."
"Radin, did you hear?" Keoman said into the radio.
"Already heading back to our trucks," Radin replied.
"Right behind you."
When Keoman arrived at the trucks, Radin already had his own snowmobile loaded. Without a trailer, he'd driven the machine into his pickup bed. Inside the cab, Radin leaned against the window, motionless. Blood smeared the glass beside his head.
Dread pounding, Keoman killed his sled's engine. He waded desperately through the roadside snow and jerked the driver's door open.
Radin jolted away, holding his kerchief-wrapped hand. "Wha…? Keoman. What's wrong?"
"What's wrong with me?" Keoman flared. "I saw the blood. I thought … jeez, man. I thought Nenegean had been here."
Radin stared past Keoman. "I must have left blood on the window when I got in the truck to take care of this gash." He unwound the kerchief and showed Keoman a deep slash on the palm of his hand. As soon as he took the pressure off, blood seeped.
"That needs stitches," Keoman said. "What happened?"
"Stupidity. I loaded the sled, then jumped down like I was eighteen instead of forty. Already had my gloves off, and caught my hand on the end of one of those steel tie-down clasps."
"That looks more like a knife cut."
"It's a sharp damn clasp."
"Damn it, we need to get going. But I'll get my first aid kit."
When he started to walk away, Radin spoke again. "Naw, like you said, it needs stitches. Sorry to bail on you, friend. But I better get back and let PawPaw look at it."
"Probably a good idea," Keoman said, relieved he could go on after Channing. "When you get there, see if there's any news about Channing. Call or radio me if you find out anything."
"Will do. And you be careful on these roads."
Radin closed his door and drove off. Quickly, Keoman loaded his own snowmobile and climbed down from the trailer to disconnect the hitch and leave it behind. Radin's account of his injury made sense when he had to grab the front of his trailer himself. The ice was treacherous, and his waffled soles skidded. The cold from the frozen sleet see
ped through the cut on the glove as he fumbled with the hitch.
Even after using an ice scraper, Keoman had to wait a few minutes before his windshield cleared enough to see safely. He sure as hell didn't want to end up stuck somewhere instead of going after Channing. At last he dropped the truck into four-wheel drive and slowly crawled along the dangerous road.
As he drove, he fluctuated between anger over Channing's defiance and worry. How the hell had she avoided the bodyguards? He would find out, but that didn't matter in the least right now. God, he hoped Nodinens had plenty of gas in her truck, since Channing would need to keep the engine running to stay warm when she slid into a ditch. Because that's where someone from Texas, who had no experience driving on ice, would end up. His eyes scanned ahead, watching for the accident he anticipated.
Despite his four-wheel drive, his truck skidded twice, and Keoman slowed down even further. His pace gnawed at him. After he depleted his store of worry and frustration over Channing, another thought intruded.
Just how long had Radin been back from their search? His windshield had been clear already, and Keoman didn't think he'd been more than a minute behind the other man. Maybe his friend's defroster worked better, even though their pickups were the same age.
Another thing bothered him now that he thought about it. Lately Radin wasn't the same person Keoman had known over the years. The information about his affair with Annalise had struck Keoman as totally improbable. A younger Radin wouldn't have become involved with another man's wife. At one point, Radin had discussed studying under Gagewin, as Keoman had. He never followed up on that, however. Had that all been an act?
After his brief marriage and divorce, Radin had never lacked for female companionship. Keoman often saw him out with different women. He wasn't gay, for sure, since he made no secret of the fact he expected his women to warm his bed.