Hunting Eve

by Iris Johansen

  “Where does Weiner live?”

  “About four hours’ drive from here. On the other side of the city. We’ll take my car.” He went to the closet and took out his coat and a muffler. “We’d better get started.”

  “Why are you doing this, Stang? It’s far from being discreet, and you said Zander didn’t forgive indiscretions. Are you breaking with him?”

  “And lose this fine job? No, I can’t do that. I told you, I made a promise. But I believe this time Zander may be acting a little indiscreetly himself. Who knows? It might strike him as amusing. One can never tell with Zander.” He shrugged into his coat and turned toward the door. “Besides, I like your Eve’s face.” He opened the door. “Better bundle up if it wouldn’t offend your macho image. It’s turned very cold in the past few hours.”

  CHAPTER

  13

  Rio Grande Forest

  Colorado

  DEAR GOD, IT WAS cold.

  The rain was spiking hard against Eve’s face and body, and her hair was clinging to her neck like coiled snakes. At first, the rain had felt almost warm in contrast to the icy waters of the stream. It did not feel warm now. The wind ripping out of the abyss was whip-sharp, taking her breath away.

  “It’s going to be slippery going down the side of the cliff.” Doane was shining his flashlight on the straight stone of the cliff wall that merged thirty feet below into a rough slope. “I’ll tie a rope around your waist and under your arms to make sure I don’t lose you.” He smiled grimly. “That would be a shame, wouldn’t it? Don’t worry, once you get your hands on Kevin, I’ll pull you back up.”

  “I’m not worried. You’d be too afraid I’d drop him again if I took a header.” Her breath was pluming in the cold air. Doane didn’t seem to be feeling the cold, she noticed. His face was wet from the rain, but he was eager, charged with energy. It was because he was about to get his precious Kevin back, she thought. “Providing that I can find him down there in this muddy mess. He might have rolled halfway down to the valley by now.” She added maliciously, “And then there are always the wolves…”

  “You’d better hope that’s not true.” Doane was tying ropes about her body. “But I don’t believe it is. I’ve been stopping here frequently every time I passed this way while I’ve been on your trail. I think that I saw Kevin about thirty feet down in that patch of jagged rocks jutting out of the slope.” He shined the beam down into the darkness. “Do you see it?”

  “I can’t see anything in this rain.” She didn’t want to see it. She didn’t want to know that Kevin was that close, waiting for her. “What am I supposed to carry the skull back up in once I’ve retrieved it?”

  “Just drop it into the big compartment in the backpack.” He took off his backpack and fastened it on her. “But make sure you don’t damage the skull any more than it is already.”

  “Heaven forbid,” she murmured.

  “Don’t mock me.” His lips tightened. “I’m very angry with you, Eve.” He pushed her toward the edge of the abyss. “And I’m tempted to cut these ropes and throw you off this cliff.” He stepped back. “But I won’t do it. This is much better. You’re making yourself useful to Kevin.” He wound one loop of the rope around a tree at the edge of the cliff. “Now get down there and bring him back. I’m afraid this rain may damage him.”

  “I’m not a climber, you know.” She moved toward the cliff. “You may lose your Kevin if I slip or—”

  “You won’t lose him.” He stood looking at her, the rain pouring down his face. “He won’t let you, Eve.”

  She felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.

  “Go on,” he said softly. “Now.”

  She hesitated, then sat down on the edge of the cliff, grasped the rope, and began to crawl her way down the rough stone precipice.

  The rope was abrasive, tearing her hands as she tried to place her feet against the stone to take pressure from her upper body.

  Rain.

  Cold.

  Thunder.

  Wind whipping up from the valley and swaying the rope and her body.

  “Hurry,” Doane shouted.

  Hurry? There was no way to hurry. Did the bastard think that she was enjoying hanging here over this nothingness?

  Keep calm. The one thing she could count on from Doane was that he wouldn’t let her fall. He wanted Kevin.

  Ten feet.

  Another twenty until she reached the start of the slope.

  That twenty feet seemed to be more like a hundred.

  But she reached it, and her feet touched the dirt and stone that was the slope.

  But the dirt was mostly mud now, and she was slipping and sliding.

  Another ten or twelve feet before she would reach the cluster of rocks Doane had said had halted the slide of her reconstruction of the skull.

  Steep, slippery feet.

  She fell and felt the embedded stones in the dirt cut her knees.

  She struggled up again.

  Another four feet to go.

  Those rocks were right ahead.

  But she didn’t see any sign of that damn reconstruction. Could it be Doane’s imagination, and he had sent her on this wild-goose chase?

  Two more feet.

  She still couldn’t see anything.

  But she could feel it. She could feel him.

  She stopped and inhaled sharply.

  Kill you. Kill her.

  Swirling darkness. Darker than the storm around her.

  Nausea.

  Fight it off.

  Move. Get over it. She couldn’t stay here paralyzed, huddled in the mud. That would be a victory for Kevin, a victory for Doane.

  She felt a tugging on the rope around her body. Doane was becoming impatient.

  Screw you, Doane.

  She took another minute and moved forward.

  Nausea. Struggle against it.

  Then she saw the skull.

  She stiffened, her hands clenching into fists so hard her nails bit into the palms.

  Dear God, she had hoped all her work would be destroyed by the fall from the cliff.

  It should have been destroyed.

  Incredibly, the reconstruction was still miraculously intact. The nose was a little askew. The plane of the left cheek would have to be smoothed, and the eyes would have to be inserted.

  But then Kevin would be complete, brought back to Doane the way he was before Zander had killed him and destroyed that face.

  Kill you. Kill him.

  Snarling evil. Clamminess. Smothering.

  She braced herself at the assault. It might not have come from Kevin. It might have come from Doane on the cliff. She had come to the point when they were becoming one to her.

  She could try to finish the job. She could take the skull and toss it the rest of the way down to the valley below.

  Nausea. Panic. Smothering.

  “You don’t like the idea?” She crawled the rest of the way to the skull. “That must mean it’s a fine plan.”

  Except that it would only mean that Doane would make her climb down to the valley and search for the skull. It would be a waste of time when she had to find a way to escape from him again.

  Escape. She felt a sudden plummet of despair at the thought of having to go through that nightmare again. She had been free, and now she was back in Doane’s cage.

  Stop feeling sorry for yourself, she told herself in disgust. She had made choices tonight that might have been foolish, but she could not have done anything else. She would do it again.

  So find a way out of Doane’s cage. She had advantages that she hadn’t had before she had escaped the last time. She knew where she could find a phone and a gun if she could just break away from Doane.

  And if Zander managed to work his way up that mine shaft, he would be going after Doane.

  Common enemy.

  No, she couldn’t count on Zander. She had told him she knew she was on her own.

  But a gun and a phone were still
valuable assets for a woman on her own.

  “Stop wasting time,” Doane yelled down from the cliff. “Bring up my son!”

  Bring up the monster.

  She stared down at the skull. The empty eye sockets seemed to glare up at her. “I’m going to give you back to him,” she whispered. “You deserve each other. But I promise I’ll find a way to destroy both of you.”

  She shrugged out of the backpack and opened the rear compartment.

  She took a deep breath, then reached out with both hands and picked up the skull.

  Nausea. Heaviness. Breathlessness.

  She dropped it quickly into the backpack and closed the flap.

  She let her breath out in an explosion of sound. Closing that flap didn’t really contain the evil that was Kevin, but it closed him away from her for the moment.

  She put the backpack on again. She jerked on the lead rope to signal to Doane she was ready and started crawling up the slope.

  Lightning.

  Thunder.

  Rain.

  And that horrible heaviness on her back that was an almost unbearable burden.

  She had reached the steep stone of the sheer cliff, and she pulled herself to her feet. “Doane!”

  He started pulling her up the cliff.

  She braced herself against the stone and pulled herself hand over hand.

  She could make it.

  Don’t think of Kevin.

  Move. Climb.

  Block the monsters from your thoughts.

  Don’t think of Doane waiting for her at the top.

  Think of Joe. Think of Jane.

  Think of Bonnie.

  * * *

  SHIT!

  Agonizing pain shot through Zander as he grabbed the exposed tree root and pulled himself another few feet up the mine shaft. He threw the strap of his backpack over the root and fastened it under his arms in case he lost consciousness again. His body was going into shock. He had been blacking out during the last hour of the climb. He had ripped the front of his shirt and formed a support bandage around his wrist. But there was no question that the wrist was broken.

  He checked his phone. Still no signal, of course. The tower was too far away. Even after he climbed out, he would probably have to walk a good two miles to get any kind of reception at all. Inside the mine shaft, it was a totally lost cause. He winced as searing pain jolted through him as he put away the phone.

  Ignore it. Use that technique the Buddhist priests had taught him to block it all out.

  But the priests had not had to climb up a narrow, muddy mine shaft, with only the occasional rock or outgrowth of vegetation to support him. Nor use that broken wrist to catch himself when his other handhold was in danger of failing him. Like right now, when he was hanging from a slender tree root with his whole weight swinging from the grip on that fragile plant and his hip wedged in a small cavity that gave meager support. Or digging his fingers into stone cracks or into the slippery mud as his feet and knees pushed him up toward the top.

  Yet the priests had probably gone through even more severe challenges for their faith. Zander had seen them do some fairly incredible things. Unfortunately, Zander had no blind faith to keep the demons of weakness and pain away. So close out the agony and concentrate on the job to be done.

  In a minute. When the throbbing stopped. That last lunge had caused the bone to pierce the skin.

  He closed his eyes. At this rate, it would take him several hours to reach the top.

  Rest. There was no hurry. Eve had either escaped Doane or been captured.

  Or she had been killed.

  None of the three options required instant response. If she had escaped, then she had proved she could take care of herself against threats. If she was captured, then Doane would try to keep her alive to accomplish his purpose.

  If she had been killed, he could not bring her back to life.

  Emptiness. Why was he feeling this emptiness?

  * * *

  “YOU CAN’T REST. Go on. She needs you. I don’t know how long she’s going to be able to hold him off.”

  He opened his eyes and struggled to focus at the voice that had come from the top of the shaft.

  A little red-haired girl wearing a Bugs Bunny T-shirt was sitting on the edge looking down at him.

  Shit. Now he was having hallucinations. He knew who that little girl staring at him was supposed to be. He had read the newspaper reports, and Eve had told him about Bonnie. It was entirely natural that he was having visions of her in this shocked state. “Go away.”

  “I can’t go away,” she whispered. “I can’t get to Mama. You have to do it for me. He’s keeping me back. I’m fighting him, and it’s getting a little better, but I don’t know if I’ll reach her in time.”

  “Who’s keeping you back? Doane?”

  She shook her head. “Kevin.”

  Now he knew he was out of his head. “Demons and goblins, oh my.”

  “Stop it. I don’t have time for this. I can feel my strength fading away. Kevin is too strong.” She moistened her lips. “You have to get her away from Doane. I want to be with her, but it can’t be like this.”

  “Sorry. You’ll have to handle it yourself. Ghosts and demons are out of my realm of expertise.”

  “Don’t you tell me that.” Bonnie’s eyes were suddenly blazing at him. “You have to help my mother. I won’t have it any other way.” Her voice dropped to a desperate whisper. “Don’t you see? The darkness is closing in around her. And beyond the darkness is nothing but … silence.”

  “All I know is that you’re a figment of my imagination and I refuse to—”

  * * *

  HE WAS TALKING TO AIR. There was no longer a little girl looking down at him.

  There had never been a little girl with red hair and eyes that blazed with panic and anger and love.

  Hallucination. Pain-induced craziness.

  And again this feeling of emptiness was sweeping back to him at the thought that Eve might be dead.

  Emptiness and rage. Rage at Eve for not doing what he’d told her to do. The same rage he’d felt toward the priest when he’d refused to let Zander take him off his mountain to safety. Didn’t they know that all of their fine humanity and efforts to heal the world would only bring them to this? Death was always there, waiting for the good as well as the evil.

  Who should know better than he?

  Where was Eve now? Lying dead in the mud a mile away from here? He doubted if she would manage to escape. Doane had been too close, and she had deliberately run back across his trail.

  To save him.

  The rage was growing. Idiotic woman. Didn’t she realize he could save himself. That he didn’t need her. God knows she should have realized that by now.

  Okay, she was dead, or Doane had her again. He would know as soon as he managed to get out of here. If they were lucky, then she’d be alive and probably back at that coin factory by now.

  They? It was Eve’s life, Eve’s fate. She had made that clear to him, and that was the way he wanted it. It was her decision, her destiny whether she lived or died on this mountain. He would not allow himself to care either away. She was not Zander’s concern.

  The darkness is closing in on her. And beyond the darkness is nothing but … silence.

  Block that moment of pain and hallucination and think clearly.

  Eve was not his concern.

  But that knife he had given her was his concern, he thought suddenly.

  When Doane discovered she had a knife, then he would be immediately suspicious. He would question her, and if he didn’t believe the answer, then he would torture her.

  And she would not tell Doane that Zander had given her the knife. No matter what he did to Eve, she would not tell him that Zander was here in these mountains and vulnerable.

  Because she was a fool, like the priest. She would take the punishment for some obscure reason that had no bearing on reality. She should tell Doane and let Zander take his c
hances. That would be the sensible thing to do.

  And beyond the capability of the Eve Duncan he had grown to know tonight.

  Which meant that there was an urgency after all whether he liked it or not, even if it took all night to climb out and battle back this damn pain.

  He started to curse as he began to wriggle up the muddy shaft, grabbing the shrubs and rocks where he could to keep from slipping. And with every movement of his body, every flash of pain, the rage began to be transformed, alter, change, burn with white-hot intensity and shift away from Eve.

  And focus like a laser on James Doane.

  * * *

  EVE TOOK OFF THE BACKPACK and dropped it at Doane’s feet. “There’s Frankenstein junior. May you enjoy each other.”

  “Be careful.” He opened the flap and shined the beam into the interior. “Why, he’s not damaged very much at all.” He lifted his gaze, and said maliciously, “What a disappointment for you.”

  “There is some damage.”

  “Not enough to cause any great delay. I knew he wouldn’t let you win.” He reached into the backpack and gently touched the forehead of the reconstruction. “He always was a survivor.”

  “Because he destroyed everyone around him. Even you, Doane.”

  “He didn’t destroy me, he enriched me,” Doane said. “And he completed me. We’ll always be together.” He took off the ropes around her. “And now I’ve got to get you to a place where you can finish what you started. You should be able to complete it within a few hours, maybe half a day.” He nudged her with his rifle. “Come on, we have to stop at the factory and gather some of your equipment to take with us.”

  “Take with us? We’re not going to stay there?”

  “No, I’m not sure I believed your story about where you got that knife. We’re going to change locations.”

  Which meant it would make it harder for Zander to trace them, she thought. It would be logical for Doane to take her directly to the factory. But logic seemed to have nothing to do with this roller coaster she was riding. “If I’d blundered into someone who would give me a knife, do you think I’d still be here?”

  “No.” He frowned. “But I still don’t like it. We’re moving.”

  She shrugged. “Whatever.” She started moving toward the trail. “Where? I can’t work outdoors in this rain.”