by Robert Crais
And then it was too late.
Mars lifted the girl by the neck and rushed forward, charging Dennis, crossing the short space in no time at all. Dennis hesitated only a heartbeat because he didn’t want to shoot the girl, but that was too long. The girl crashed into him, the full force of Mars’s weight behind her, knocking Dennis backward into the hall. Then the girl was cast aside, Mars was on top of him, and Dennis saw a glint off the knife as it came down.
THOMAS
Rational thought was beyond him; he was filled with a suffocating fear that drove him to run, to get out, to move. Thomas did not know that he screamed. He slipped in the blood, falling hard into the red pool, then slipped again as he climbed onto the washer. He clambered up into the crawl space, cutting his hands and knees as he scrambled across the rafters. He couldn’t move fast enough, once banging his head so hard that he saw bright flashes. He had the gun now. He could save himself. His only thought was to reach Jennifer. The two of them would run downstairs and out the door, and neither Mars nor Dennis could stop them. He had the gun!
Thomas heard Jennifer’s door crash open as he squeezed through the hatch into her closet. He froze, listening, and heard voices. Dennis was shouting at Mars. Mars was holding Jennifer as Dennis faced him, shouting that Mars had cut Kevin’s throat. Thomas drew the gun from his pants, big and heavy and awkward, but he didn’t know what to do. Dennis had a gun, too!
Then Mars pushed Jennifer into Dennis, and all three of them sprawled into the hall. Thomas crept into the room. Mars grunted like a pig when it eats, drool streaming from his mouth as he stabbed Dennis over and over. Jennifer was crawling away, splattered with blood.
“Jen! C’mon!”
Thomas darted past Mars into the hall, and grabbed Jennifer’s arm. He pulled her toward the stair.
“Run!”
The two of them stumbled away as Mars heaved to his feet. His eyes were wild and darting. He was bigger, stronger, faster; Thomas knew that he would catch them.
Thomas whirled around and jerked up the pistol with both hands.
“I’ll shoot you!”
Mars stopped. He was streaked with blood, and breathing hard. Blood dripped from his face. Even more blood painted the walls and floor. Dennis bubbled like a fountain and moaned.
The pistol was heavy and hard to hold. It wobbled, even though Thomas held it with both hands. Jennifer pulled at his shoulder, her voice a frightened whisper.
“Keep going. Let’s get out of here.”
They backed away, Thomas trying to hold the gun steady.
Mars walked after them, matching them step for step.
Thomas pushed the gun at him.
“Stay away! I’ll shoot you!”
Mars spread his arms as if to embrace them. He continued walking.
“Remember what I told you when I tied you to your bed?”
Thomas remembered: I’m going to eat your heart.
They reached the landing. Jennifer started down the stairs.
Mars walked faster.
“I’m going to cut out your heart. But I’m going to cut out your sister’s heart first, so you can watch.”
“Stay away!”
Fear amped through Thomas like electric current. His body shook with it, and his bladder let go. He didn’t want to shoot; he was scared to shoot, scared that it would be wrong even though he feared for his life, scared that he would be punished for it and would burn in hell and branded a bad person who had made a terrible awful mistake, but Mars came on and he was too scared not to shoot, too scared of that awful knife and the blood that dripped and ran over everything and that Mars really would do it, would cut out his heart, and Jennifer’s, and eat them both.
Thomas pulled the trigger.
Click!
Mars stopped, frozen at the sharp sound.
Click!
The gun didn’t fire.
All the things that his father had showed him at the pistol range came flooding back. He gripped the slide hard and pulled back to load a bullet into the chamber, but the slide locked open and did not close. Thomas glanced down into the open action. The magazine was empty. The pistol was unloaded. There were no bullets. There were no bullets!
When Thomas looked up again, Mars smiled.
“Welcome to my nightmare.”
Jennifer screamed, “Run!”
Thomas threw the gun at Mars and ran, following Jennifer down the stairs. The air was thick with the smell of gasoline and vomit. Jennifer reached the front door first, and clawed at the handle, but the door would not open.
“Open it!”
“The deadbolt is locked! Where’s the key?”
The key wasn’t in the lock. Thomas knew with certain dread that it was probably upstairs in Dennis’s bloody pocket.
Mars pounded down the stairs, closing the ground between them. He would be on them in seconds. They would never reach the French doors or garage before he caught them.
Jennifer grabbed his arm and pulled.
“This way! Run!”
She pulled him toward their parents’ room. Thomas realized that she was taking him to the safest place in the house, but Mars was getting closer, off the stairs now and out of the entry and right behind them.
Thomas raced after his sister down the hall, through their parents’ bedroom, and into the security room. They slammed the steel door and threw the bolt in the same moment that Mars crashed into the other side of the door.
The world was silent.
Thomas and Jennifer held each other, shaking and scared. All that Thomas could hear was his own heavying breath.
Then Mars pounded on the door; slow, rhythmic thuds that echoed through the tiny room … boom … boom … boom.
Jennifer squeezed Thomas, whispering.
“Don’t move. He can’t reach us in here.”
“I know.”
“We’re safe.”
“Shut up!”
His father had told him that the door could stop anything.
The pounding stopped.
Mars cupped his hands to the door and shouted to make himself heard. His muffled voice came through the steel.
“You’re bad. You’re bad. You’re bad. Now I’m going to punish you.”
Mars hit the door once more, then walked out of the room.
Thomas remembered the cell phone.
He clawed it out of his pocket, and turned it on.
The cell phone chimed as it came to life.
“Thomas! Look!”
Jennifer was watching Mars on the monitors. He was in the entry by the front door. He picked up the two containers of gasoline, then walked through the house splashing gasoline on the walls. He smiled as he worked.
Jennifer said, “Ohmigod, he’s going to burn us.”
The cell phone chimed again, and Thomas glanced at the display. The battery indicator flickered.
The cell phone was going dead.
24
• • •
Saturday, 2:16 A.M.
MARS
Mars turned off the remaining lights as he passed them. The entry hall turned black. The office followed, then the den. Mars knew that the police would see the rooms fail like closing eyes, and wonder why the house was dying.
Mars went to the kitchen first. He found matches in a jar by the range, then blew out the pilot lights. He splashed gasoline over the range top and gas line, then moved back toward the master bedroom, carefully pouring an unbroken trail of gas along the walls. He loved moving through the house. Shadows gave him the power of invisibility; darkness was his friend. Mars regretted that he would never see his mother again, but only because he enjoyed torturing the rotten bitch. He heard her voice even now, alive in his head:
I hate to see a boy do bad things! I hate to see a bad boy, Marshall! Why do you make me punish you this way?
I don’t know, Mama.
This will make you a better man.
She didn’t like to see a boy do bad things, so now he made
her watch all the bad things, and sometimes even made her participate. He regretted that she wasn’t with him now; he would have enjoyed introducing her to Kevin and Dennis.
Mars emptied the first bucket of gasoline, then used the second, continuing the trail of gas into the bedroom. He splashed the bed and the walls and the security door.
Then he took out the matches.
THOMAS
Thomas dialed Talley’s number and pressed the button to send the call.
The phone died.
“Thomas!”
“The battery’s low! You never charge it!”
Jennifer snatched the phone from him and pressed the power button. The phone chirped as it came to life, but once more failed.
Jennifer angrily shook the phone.
“Piece of shit!”
“Do you think he’s really gonna do it?”
“I don’t know!”
“Maybe we should run!”
“We would never get past him!”
Thomas watched as Jennifer pried off the cell phone’s battery. She rubbed the copper contacts hard on her shirt sleeve, then licked them before snapping the battery back onto the phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Thomas, I live on this phone. I know every trick in the book for making it work.”
Mars grinned at the monitors, then lit a match. He held it up to make sure that they saw it. The tiny flame was a glob of flickering white on the monitor screen. He let the flame grow, then brought it close to the door.
Thomas grabbed Jennifer’s arm.
“He’s going to do it!”
Jennifer pushed the power button. The phone chirped again as it came to life, and this time it stayed on. She jammed the phone into his hands.
“Here! It’s working!”
Thomas punched in Talley’s number, then glanced up at the monitors. Mars was staring into the camera as if he saw directly into their eyes and hearts. Then Thomas saw his lips move.
“What’s he saying?”
Jennifer grabbed Thomas and pulled him away from the door.
“He’s saying good-bye.”
Mars tossed the match.
The room erupted in flame.
TALLEY
When Talley heard the first scream from the house, he took a position behind a Highway Patrol car. The CHiPs in the cul-de-sac shifted uncomfortably because they heard it, too. Talley couldn’t tell if the voice was male or female, but there had only been the one scream. Now the house was still.
Talley moved to the nearest Highway Patrol officer.
“You on the command frequency?”
“Yes, sir. You heard that in the house? I think something’s going on.”
“Give me your radio.”
Talley radioed Martin, who acknowledged his call without comment. Talley moved down the line of patrol cars, listening hard for something more from the house, but it was silent.
Then, room by room, the lights went off.
Talley saw Martin approaching, and moved out to meet her. The scream had scared him, but the silence now scared him more. Jones was too far away to have heard.
Martin huffed up, excited.
“What’s going on? Why is the house so dark?”
Talley was starting to explain when they saw a dull orange glow move inside the house at the edges of the window shades. He thought it was a flashlight.
His phone rang.
“Talley.”
It was Thomas, incoherent from shouting and from a weak connection.
“I can’t understand you! Slow down, Thomas; I can’t understand you!”
“Mars killed Kevin and Dennis, and now he’s burning the house! We’re in the security room, me and Jennifer! We’re trapped!”
The cell connection faltered again. Talley knew that the boy must be getting low on power.
“Okay, son. Okay. I’m coming to get you! How much power do you have?”
“It’s dying.”
Talley checked his watch.
“Turn it off, son. Turn it off, but turn it on again in two minutes. I’m on my way in!”
Talley felt strangely distant from himself, as if his feelings were bound in cotton. He had no choice now; he would act to save these children. It didn’t matter what the Watchman wanted, or Jones, or even if it put Jane and Amanda at risk. He pulled Martin by the arm, taking her with him as he ran back along the street toward Jones, shouting instructions as they ran.
“Krupchek’s torching the house! Get the fire truck up here!”
“What about Jones?”
“I’m getting him now. We’re going in!”
“What about your wife?”
“Get the fire truck, and tell your people to stand by; if Jones won’t move, we’ll go in without him!”
Martin fell behind to use her radio. Talley ran toward Jones.
“Krupchek’s torching the house. We have to go in.” Jones glanced toward the house without expression. Talley could see that Jones didn’t believe him.
“We’re waiting to hear from the man.”
Talley grabbed Jones’s arm, and felt him stiffen. Behind them, the fire engine rumbled to life and swung around the corner.
“The house is burning, goddamnit. Krupchek has those kids trapped in the security room. We can’t wait.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Look at it!”
Talley shoved Jones toward the house.
Flames were visible in the den window. Police radios crackled as the perimeter guards reported the fire, and the officers in the cul-de-sac openly milled behind their cars, waiting for someone to do something. Hicks and the Sheriff’s tactical team trotted toward Martin.
Jones seemed frozen in place, anchored by his expectation of the Watchman’s call.
Talley jerked his arm again, pulling him around.
“I’m breaching that house, Jones. Are you coming or not?”
“We go when the man says. Not before.”
“We can’t wait for the man!”
“They’ll fuckin’ kill your family.”
“Those kids are trapped!”
Jones gripped his MP5. Talley slipped his hand under his sweatshirt and touched the .45.
“What? You want to shoot it out with the chief of police here in the street? You think you’ll get the disks that way?”
Jones glanced at the house again, then grimaced. None of this was in the game plan. Everything had suddenly grown beyond their control, and Jones, like Talley, was being swept forward by the storm.
Jones decided.
“All right, goddamnit, but it’s just us going into that house. We’ll secure the structure, then retrieve the disks.”
“If you don’t get your people on the hump, the firemen will get there first.”
They made their assault plan as they ran to the house.
MARS
The flames built slowly, growing up the doors and the walls like flowers on a trellis. Mars followed the flames as they crept along the trail of gas he had made through the house. He thought that the fire would spread with a whoosh, but it moved with surprising lethargy. The air clouded with smoke that smelled of tar.
Mars wanted music.
He went to the den, where he remembered a nice Denon sound system. He tuned to a local hip-hop station, and cranked the speakers to distortion. He helped himself to a bottle of scotch, then returned to the bedroom.
The bed was a raging inferno. Fire covered the doors and walls, and a layer of smoke roiled at the ceiling. The heat made him squint. A layer of smoke roiled at the ceiling. Mars took off his shirt and drank. He checked the Chinaman’s gun, saw that there were still plenty of bullets, then took out his knife.
Mars crouched at the far side of the room, far from the flames and below the smoke. He watched the door. He hoped that if the security room grew hot enough, and the children grew frightened enough, the kids would open the door to escape.
Then he would have his way.
TALLEY
Two men would breach the front door, two the French doors; Talley and Jones would breach through a window to enter a guest bedroom located next to the master. Once inside, Jones would radio the seventh man, who would shatter the sliding doors in the master bedroom to distract Krupchek from the bedroom door, which would be the point of egress for the assault. All of them would carry fire extinguishers to suppress the flames.
Talley didn’t have time to get his own vest from his car. He borrowed a vest from one of the CHiPs, strapping it over his sweatshirt, then slung a fire extinguisher over his shoulder. The firemen ran out their hoses, remaining under cover until word would come down that the hostiles had been neutralized.
When they agreed on the assault plan, Talley phoned Thomas. The connection was even weaker than before, and this time Talley told him to keep the phone on. Powering up the system probably cost more power than it saved. If Jones thought anything of Talley and the boy talking, he did not comment.
Martin edged close to Talley as Jones deployed his men.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“You just going to let them leave with the disks?”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Martin. I don’t know. I just gotta get those kids.”
Talley finished strapping on the vest and adjusted his radio. Everything moved quickly and efficiently, without wasted moves or words. When he was set, he looked over at Jones.
“You ready?”
Jones seated his helmet, then shook himself a last time to settle his equipment.
“Remember, Talley.”
“Let’s just do this damned thing.”
Jones set off for the house. Talley let him get a step ahead, then turned back to Martin.
“If I don’t get out, don’t let him leave. Bring in the detectives and try to save my family.”
“Just make it your business to get out.”
She turned away before he could answer and shouted at her SWAT team to remain in place.
Talley caught up to Jones at the corner of the house outside the guest bedroom window. They heard music, loud and throbbing within the burning house. Talley was thankful for it, because the noise of the music and the fire would cover their entrance. They pulled away the screen, then Jones used a crowbar to wedge open the window. He pushed aside the shade, then gave Talley a thumbs-up, saying the room was clear. They lifted the fire extinguishers into the room, then they waited. They would not enter the house until the others were in position. Talley took the phone from his pocket and checked in with Thomas.
