“Dammit, Clay!” Morana shoved him away.
Clay cupped his mouth and hollered, “Thane, I don’t know what you’re doing, but I swear to God I will get you anything you want. Just turn the lights on and come back.”
“You can stop begging,” Morana said. “If he hasn’t answered by now, he won’t until he’s ready.”
“Maybe he went up to the surface,” Clay said.
“There’s no way he could have gone up that quickly,” Morana said. “The lift needs almost a minute to lower and fully raise, so this shaft would still be moving if he had used it. Stand still.” She dragged her fingers around the perimeter of the small chamber and found and felt no movement of the lift. “The lift should be right here,” she said, slapping her palm on the wall.
“Then where could he have gone?” Clay asked.
“Absolutely anywhere. Have you finished putting in the phone line?”
“He had me terminate it in the bedroom chamber, but the phone isn’t connected up in the garage yet.”
“Figures,” Morana said, stomping her heel on several parts of the floor.
“What are you doing?” Clay asked.
“Every time Thane comes into this chamber the lift appears automatically, like a valet that knows when he wants it. I haven’t been able to figure out how he does it.”
“Are you sure it’s not as simple as a remote control?” Clay asked.
“If so, it’s not handheld, because his hands have been in plain view.”
“Maybe it’s heat, or electric, or biometric—it could be anything.” Clay pounded the walls and hopping from one foot to the other around the lift chamber.
They split up, taking separate corridors as they continued calling out for Thane and feeling the walls.
As Morana dragged her hand along the wall, her fingertips found the faint seams of numerous blocks that could be doorways, but none would budge. She took her best guess as to the approximate location of the trap floor chamber entrance. She pushed and prodded all the nearby blocks, but each refused to move.
“Where are you?” Clay said.
“Over here,” Morana said.
Clay moved toward her voice until they bumped into one another at the center of the main corridor.
“We’re dead,” he said.
“Oh, calm down.”
“He hid it well.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He’s snapped again. Have you already forgotten that he damn near crushed us before? Remember all those facts he recited about your past? Key, or no key, I don’t see how he didn’t completely freak out before now.”
Morana said, “He didn’t look freaked out when he left.”
“Maybe not, but don’t you find it interesting that his last words were about how dangerous he was down here and then, bang, the lights go out, and he vanishes.”
“He already knew my history, were you listening?”
“That’s the thing. Now that Waylon is gone, why wouldn’t he turn you in?”
“Because he doesn’t care about money.”
Clay replied, “Okay, forget about the money motivation. Waylon, me, and you are the only ones who know about the sub-lair. Maybe he’s decided to fix that.”
“He knows the legal mess our disappearance would create for him. He has far too much to lose. My car is up in his driveway. He’d have to dispose of that, and then he’d have to play dumb to your uncle at work about your disappearance—I just don’t think he’d be able to pull that off.”
“I still don’t think this sudden darkness is an innocent game.”
“Be patient, he’ll be back.” Morana’s tone had lost its conviction. “Let’s go to the bedroom and wait.”
As they felt their way back to the bedroom doorway, Morana stopped.
Clay bumped her, again.
She swept her fingers around the wall. “Wasn’t the doorway here?”
“Yes, move.” Clay swapped places with her and felt along the wall, walking a few steps further until he reached the end of the corridor. “It has to be here.”
Morana said, “He closed the door.”
“How?” Clay said, coming back to her.
A chill shot through Morana. “Move away from me—quick,” she said.
“What is it?” Clay asked, backing away.
“Further, don’t stand near me!” She backed as far away from him as she could get.
“Why?”
“Thane can move any block, floor, ceiling, or wall, whenever he wants to. If he intentionally locked us out of the bedroom, he could be removing our options.”
“You think he’ll crush us?” Clay asked.
“I don’t know.” Morana sidestepped along the corridor to create more distance between her and Clay. She beat the wall with her hand and said, “Thane, I don’t know what you are planning, but I was never going to hurt you. I will never hurt you. You should know that by now! Thane, please answer me!”
“God, we’re doomed. I feel lightheaded,” Clay said. He spread his hands on the wall behind him and whispered, “Where should we go?”
Morana said, “I still think he’s coming back, but if you’re right about Thane wanting to finish us, it won’t matter where we are.”
Chapter 31
THE POWER OUTAGE caught Thane by surprise. It was the first he had experienced since wiring the solar panels to the sub-lair. He left Clay and Morana in the bedroom, hurrying along the wall, and ignoring their calls to him. His only focus was on resolving the problem, not consolation, as he felt his way to the end corridor. He needed to get to the surface as soon as possible.
The solar panels mounted in the backyard where the only source of electricity to the sub-lair. The only explanation for the sudden blackout was a disconnection of the panels. He had to go investigate, but if he used the garage lift, an intruder who might have broken in would certainly hear the hiss and see the shaft open as the lift descended to retrieve him. He opted for the bedroom closet lift instead.
He rounded the corner at the end of the corridor and used his fingertips to count wall-block seams before he triggered one that pivoted, opening a doorway.
He entered his secret tunnel to the house and pushed the block closed, muting Morana and Clay’s calls. This was his task to correct alone—particularly if anyone was at the surface. Leaving them temporarily locked below would ensure that they couldn’t interfere with anyone he encountered at the surface. It also ensured that they couldn’t witness any block moving he might need to do in the garage during the repair. A reminder of his control over the sub-lair would be good for them.
He felt his way along the tunnel through the pitch darkness until he reached the end. He triggered the lift and the column of rock supporting it descended, accelerating. He cautiously reached out and allowed his finger to drag against the sliding rock that supported the lift. Soon, the lift slid down, and his hand felt the open air above the lift platform. He stepped onto it and triggered his ascent.
During the ride, Thane reflected on Waylon’s demise. His stomach clamped down again when he remembered the blood spreading from underneath Waylon’s body. He cupped his damp shirt around his mouth, dropped to one knee and heaved.
When he reached the surface, a crack of light slid down in front of him, and the clothing that hung on his bedroom closet rack fell across his head and shoulders.
Before he stepped off the lift, he waited, listening. He parted the clothes and looked out into the empty bedroom. He heard faint voices that seemed to be coming from outside the house. He opened the closet door and went to the bedroom window that faced the backyard. Morana’s Explorer was still backed to the garage entry door. Three men dressed in white were draping a long plastic tarp over it. He saw the open cans of paint and sprayers. One of the men twisted a paint roller onto a pole extension.
Thane immediately saw the reason for the loss of power in the sub-lair. His array of solar panels
had been ripped from their stands and stacked atop of one another at the edge of the lawn. The mounting stands were severed a few inches from the ground, and frayed wires protruded from them. A sledgehammer lay a short distance away. What the hell is going on?
Thane quickly changed into some clean clothes and went to the kitchen where he tossed his soiled shirt into the trash. He opened the back door and went outside. “Who did this?” he said as he went to the stack of disconnected solar panels.
The painters looked at him and then to one another.
“I said who did this?” Thane yelled.
One of the men pointed his paintbrush toward the house and said, “The boss. He said to take them down.”
Thane jogged along the driveway to the front of the house shouting, “Uncle Jesse… Uncle Jesse!”
As he passed through the pergola, a chainsaw growled to life up ahead, its motor gunned a few times. When he rounded the corner, he saw a man high in his front yard tree, leaning back onto a safety belt while grinding the chainsaw blades into another branch.
A dump truck backed over the curb, stopping with its rear wheels on the lawn near the tree. Two other men tended a chipper that roared to life a short distance away. They began feeding the fallen branches into it. The chipper chewed and spat a stream of chunky sawdust into the back of the truck. Over the roar of the chipper, the chainsaw motor strained, showering sawdust to the ground as the man in the tree pressed the blade into a larger limb.
Thane gaped at the scene.
Uncle Jesse stood at the curb beside the mailbox, talking with a neighbor from across the street who had come out to investigate the sudden frenzy of front yard work.
Thane marched toward the men clenching his fists at his sides. As he closed in on the men, the neighbor saw Thane’s expression and motioned for Uncle Jesse to look.
“What are you doing?” Thane yelled. “You are destroying the property!”
Uncle Jesse held up a finger to him and said, “First of all, you need to calm down.”
“No, I won’t calm down!” Thane shouted louder, competing with the grinding chainsaw. “Why are you doing this?”
“You seem to have forgotten that this is my property.” Uncle Jesse thumbed at himself.
The neighbor backed away and said, “I’ll catch you later, Jesse.”
Uncle Jesse nodded and turned back to Thane. “I told you I want to fix this place up, and I meant it. If you don’t remember that conversation, then you weren’t paying attention.”
As the wood chipper devoured a new set of branches, Uncle Jesse jabbed his finger toward the house and shouted, “I can’t compete with this noise. Let’s go inside. We need to talk.” Uncle Jesse walked to the porch.
Thane looked over his shoulder as he followed, glaring at the man in the tree as another large limb crashed to the ground.
As they entered the house, Thane said, “You said I was going to do the painting.”
Uncle Jesse went to the living room. “Yeah, well, things change. I did some thinking, and this job is bigger than you can handle, so I decided to go with professionals to get it done—you know—for the sake of speed and quality.”
Uncle Jesse pointed to a sofa. “Sit.”
Thane moved to a place beside the sofa and remained standing. He folded his arms.
Uncle Jesse turned an easy chair to face him and sat. He rubbed his hands together a few times and said, “You probably wouldn’t know it based on the tiny amount of time you spend washing cars at the office, but the tourism business is down. A lot, actually, and your Aunt Gina and I are feeling the financial pinch. From month-to-month, we’re dealing with two car payments, our own mortgage, the mortgage on this place, student-loan debt for your cousins and a great deal of money I’ve put out for other necessities. I’m sure it’s just a temporary downturn of the business. I thought I would weather it, but I can’t…”
“Don’t say it,” Thane said.
“I’m selling this house.”
“No! You can’t!” Thane said. His face went flush. “No!”
Uncle Jesse stood and pumped his hands toward Thane, saying, “Cool your jets. Don’t get all hysterical. That won’t change what’s going to happen here, so do yourself a favor and calm down. This house has grown some nice equity, and the property tax and utilities are a burden—not forgetting the fact that you don’t pay a dime for it…”
Thane moved to the back of the sofa and shoved his hands into his pocket to keep them from trembling. “Mom’s final wish was for me to have this house and you know it.”
“Yeah? Well, she doesn’t own it anymore, does she?”
“You tricked me. I should be the owner. You are violating Mom’s will.”
Uncle Jesse shrugged. “My lawyer has a different opinion. He reviewed it, and it turns out that the moment my name went on the title, I was no longer bound to your mother’s whims. It’s mine free and clear. When your mother died, I did what I needed to do to keep the state and lawyers from getting it. You should thank me for letting you squat in this place for as long as you have. Without me, you would have been homeless. Now, look how ungrateful you are for my sacrifice.”
Thane kicked the sofa. “You didn’t sacrifice. You got a great deal. Taking over payments was a boon for you.”
“I figured you wouldn’t be thrilled about this decision, but after thinking everything over, forcing you to get a place of your own could be the best thing that ever happened to you. It would do you a lot of good to grow up a little.”
“Uncle Jesse, please!” Thane begged, clasping his hands together. “I have nowhere to go. My whole life is here. I’ll do more chores. I’ll deliver dinner to your place every night. I’ll drive you to work every morning and pick you up every afternoon. I’ll wash the outside windows every week and mow the lawn twice a week if you want me to.” Thane’s voice quivered. “Tell me what will change your mind?”
“A couple hundred grand might change it. You got that?”
Thane stared at him, blinking back tears.
Uncle Jesse shrugged. “That’s what I thought. I’ve made up my mind. The equity in this place is mine, and I need it.”
Thane came closer to him. “I’ll pay rent! How much do you need?”
Uncle Jesse laughed. “Pay with what? The paltry amount of cash you earn me from washing cars at the office?”
“How could you do this to your own family? I’m your nephew. Mom was your sister!”
“Don’t you try to shame me, boy. Your mother should have been more careful with the will. You should be saying, ‘It was great while it lasted.’”
Thane grabbed his hair. “This can’t be happening!”
“You better hurry up and get used to the idea because I already have an interested buyer and this sale will set your aunt and I up nicely until the tourism business picks up again.”
“I have nowhere to go.” Thane wiped his eyes on his arm.
“You’re going to have at least a month before escrow closes that should be plenty of time for you to find a new place.”
“I can’t deal with this,” Thane said, walking out of the living room. He went to the kitchen and looked out the window at the new paint on the garage.
Uncle Jesse entered the doorway behind him and said, “As a practical matter, you barely use this house. It’s too big for you, anyway. You’re always holed up in that tiny garage. All of this square footage is a complete waste. You should look into studio apartments. Maybe someone will let you manage a property, and you can get your rent down to nothing, like you pay me now.”
The chainsaw that had been silent for a few minutes roared to life out front again.
Thane said, “You don’t get it—my whole life is here. My projects have to happen here, precisely here!”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“That’s what I thought,” Uncle Jesse said.
Thane pus
hed past him and went out the back door.
Uncle Jesse followed.
The painters had finished a thick coat of white on the side of the garage.
Thane pointed to the stub of the broken solar panel stand protruding from the dirt. “I bought those solar panels with my own money!”
“I’ve been telling you that those panels were an eyesore. They ruin all the curb appeal of this place. I’m not gonna have this place looking like a junkyard and I sure as hell won’t let your experimental crap become a point of negotiation on the sale.” Uncle Jesse rolled his eyes. “It would be different if I were making money from those panels—speaking of making money—what about that piano?” He pointed to the garage. “I’ve got a buyer waiting to give me cash. If you get in the way of that, you’ll give me a good reason to kick you out in less than 30 days.”
Uncle Jesse went to the garage door, and stopped beside the Explorer and said, “Whose is this?”
“A visitor.”
“Well, your visitor damn near ended up with their car painted half white for not being available to move it. Every time I park in the driveway and block your truck you’re all up in arms, but you let somebody park crooked like this, blocking the entry door? Where is this visitor now?”
Thane didn’t answer.
Uncle Jesse sucked his teeth and swatted his hand at Thane. He went to the door and tried to open it, but it was still blocked. “What in God’s name have you got behind this door?”
“I had to move some things around inside. It’s temporary.”
“No shit. And you gave me the wrong key to this door. I’m betting you did it on purpose because you were all pissed off about giving me a key in the first place.”
Thane didn’t answer. He twisted his fists in his pockets while staring at the garage.
“Ah, never mind, it doesn’t matter,” Uncle Jesse said. “But you better damn well get this door open!” Uncle Jesse shoved it. It banged against the block.
“That door is blocked, too.” Uncle Jesse pointed to the large roll-up door behind Thane’s truck. “You get all these goddamn obstructions moved out of the way, do you understand, boy?”
Prey for Us Page 30
