by Meg Gardiner
“Peyton told me.”
Autumn tensed. “Is she . . .”
“She’s okay.”
Relief swept over Autumn’s face. Then confusion and fear. “This is revenge? Haugen grabbed us to get back at my dad for firing him?”
She tried to swallow. The noose tightened around her neck. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Tell me you can get the sack out.”
“Working on it.”
And Jo was thinking about how to work on Haugen. It’ll set off the guy in charge. Boom.
And Evan’s message had explained what Boom meant. It said, Haugen has snake phobia. Berserk panic.
In the sharp beam of the flashlight, Autumn’s sweater virtually swam. Muscular forms eeled over one another. An unmistakable dry rattle emanated from the sack. Jo saw only one way to remove it without exposing Autumn—and herself—to multiple attacks. Once she pulled the bag out, she needed to put it inside another container. She flashed the light around. Kyle had left a backpack on the dirt six feet away. She grabbed it.
“Hurry,” Autumn said. “Kyle’s going to come back.”
Steeling herself, Jo reached beneath Autumn’s sweater and grasped the end of the sack where the rope wound around it. She gagged and forcibly held herself still.
“Here goes.”
She pulled the sack out.
Autumn sagged on the dirt, facedown. She jammed a hand in her mouth to keep from crying too loud.
Jo lifted the squirming sack to the backpack, holding it like a bag of unstable nitroglycerine. She slid it in and worked the zipper all the way closed.
“Where did he catch baby rattlers?” Jo said. “A nest?”
Autumn clambered to her feet, wiping her eyes roughly. “He brought them with him. In his backpack. He planned all along to terrorize me. I don’t think Edge Adventures knew that. And I hope my dad didn’t.”
Jo expected her face to crumple, but she looked flinty.
Jo wound up to toss the backpack as far away as possible, and stopped. Berserk panic.
She knew exactly how that felt and how completely it disabled the phobic person. Activate a panic trigger, and you might as well hit the person with a Taser.
She didn’t think Evan had mentioned Haugen’s phobia as an aside or as a colorful bit of background on him.
She got a piece of the 10 mm rope and threaded it through the zipper pulls, tied a knot, and secured it. She took a breath. Then she put the backpack on.
“What the hell? Are you an animal-rights activist?” Autumn said.
“Never waste a weapon. Especially a potent one.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“That’s the point. I don’t want to use it. Hope we don’t run into Haugen.” She aimed the flashlight up the tunnel. “Let’s get out of here.”
Gabe lugged Noah a hundred yards up the slope before he got out of sight of the mine entrance. Legs burning, lungs burning. His ribs and shoulder screamed. He kept going and saw the power pylons towering above him. Near the base of the southern tower, he set Noah down on the ground.
Lark huddled by his side. “He’s not doing great.”
Gabe rubbed Noah’s arms to warm him. Noah’s eyes flickered open.
“Hold on, buddy,” Gabe said. “We’re getting out of here.”
Gabe tried to get his breath. Telling Lark he’d be right back, he clambered back to a vantage point overlooking the mine. He dropped to his knees. He wondered if he’d have the energy to stand up again.
Come on, Jo.
His breath caught. Sneaking toward the mine from the bottom of the ravine was Von.
56
Jo and Autumn scurried along the low tunnel. Their feet tossed up soft earth. The turn back to the main shaft was only twenty yards ahead. Jo trained the flashlight on the ground directly in front of her, watching for rats and traps and other tricks Ruby Kyle Ratner might have placed there.
They reached the spot where the punji sticks lined the flood pit. Jo said, “Take a running jump. Just go. You’ll make it.”
Autumn accelerated, cleared the shaft, and landed softly. Jo followed, leaping on exhausted legs, and wobbled to a landing.
They hurried on, following the long curve of the tunnel. Jo held out one hand, fingers touching the wall to keep herself anchored, flashlight low. She passed a gap, the long drop into the shaft where Phelps Wylie’s body had fallen. She kept thinking, A few more yards, and we’ll see the exit. A few more yards, and we’ll see sunlight.
The walkie-talkie in her pocket squawked. She grabbed it and turned the volume down. Her mouth was chalk dry.
They heard a man’s voice. “I’m there.”
It was Von. And worse, though they heard him through the walkie-talkie, they also heard his voice echo from the other end of the tunnel. He was at the entrance to the mine.
Haugen heard Von over the walkie-talkie. Ratner did too. His hotcigarette eyes looked uphill, toward the mine, surprised, aware, full of enmity and the realization he’d been outmaneuvered. That Von was still alive.
Merely by looking in the direction of the mine, Ratner gave himself away. Haugen knew all he needed to know about where Ratner had stashed Autumn.
Ratner swung around and faced him. But not fast enough.
Jo felt cold and sizzling all at once. For a second, her mind felt blank—bleached clean by bubbling desperation.
“Come on.” Grabbing Autumn, she ran back deeper into the mine.
“No. He’ll find us,” Autumn said.
Jo held her arm. “Here.”
They reached the shaft where Wylie had been dumped. It was about three feet in diameter. The airshaft went up into gloomy light—all the way to the surface. But they weren’t going to climb.
“Hide in here. We can chimney.”
Jo demonstrated: back against one wall, feet against the other, pressing against both sides of the shaft like a spring.
“We only have to hide for a minute. Once he passes us, we’ll run for the entrance.”
They shimmied into the shaft. It was even colder than the main tunnel. The wind fingered over them. Jo turned off the flashlight.
A few seconds later, she heard scuffling. A dark figure, hunched and breathing hard, crept past them, headed deeper into the mine.
Autumn clamped her jaw tight. Jo held her breath, listening for him to recede down the tunnel. They had to wait until he turned the corner. But, to her horror, she heard him turn around and come back. She tried not to breathe. Autumn’s legs were shaking. Von walked by so close they could smell him.
He’s giving up, she thought. He’s leaving.
A rat crawled from a cleft in the rock above Autumn’s head. Its tail swept around and clipped her in the face. She squeaked.
Jo heard Von turn.
Only one thing she could think to do. “Run.”
She jumped out of the shaft into the main tunnel. Autumn, screaming through her teeth, was a moment behind.
Von was blocking their path to the exit, a black bulk, pumpkin headed and menacing. Jo grabbed Autumn and ran deeper into the mine. They pounded through the soft dirt, breathless. They heard Von coming behind them.
He yelled into his walkie-talkie. “Boss, Autumn’s here. She’s running.”
Gabe was already on his feet, sliding down the hill toward the mine, when he heard the distant report of gunfire. Hard sounds popped and echoed in the morning air. Crows lifted from the trees into the sky. The firefight was down the ravine, in the direction Ratner had ridden the horse.
He kept running.
If they could only get past the bend, they could make it. Jo struggled, sure she could feel Von’s breath on her neck. They reached the bend and pummeled around it. Jo aimed the flashlight ahead in the tunnel, just for a fraction of a second.
“See it?” she said breathlessly.
“Yeah,” Autumn said.
Jo turned off the flashlight. She gasped. “Five, four, three, two . . .”
They leapt over the punji-stick pit. And
kept running.
A moment later they heard Von bash the wall as he hit the bend. Jo flashed the light on the roof of the tunnel, wildly, wanting to be sure he saw it. Wanting his eyes pinned on them.
She glanced back and watched him run straight into the pit.
His thick form disappeared with a yelp. They heard a thud. He screamed.
Jo stopped. Autumn grabbed on to her. Von kept screaming, loud and long and freaked out.
“We’re out of here,” Jo said.
They jumped back over the pit. Jo kept running, but Autumn stopped and leaned over the pit.
“This place is full of rats. They drop on you like shit. Have fun, you bastard.”
“You bitches,” Von screamed.
Autumn turned, eyes wide, grabbed Jo, and ran for the exit. The last sound they heard was Von firing his gun wildly from the bottom of the pit, and then bullets hitting the walls.
Misty sunshine fizzed off the hood of the Mustang. Through the windshield Evan saw Tang pacing by the big rig, directing the detectives and uniforms and forensics techs who had swarmed to the truck depot. A cup of coffee was growing cold in her hands. Evan drove past the rig and parked. She had dropped Ferd home and rushed back. She hoped Tang wouldn’t count the minutes she’d been gone and compare them to the speed limit.
As she climbed out of the car, Tang’s phone rang. The lieutenant grabbed it. Distantly, Evan heard her say, “Yes?”
Tang listened for a minute. Evan’s stomach was tight. Tang hung up and jogged toward the Mustang.
“Tuolumne. They got a call from a woman saying she was in an accident in the forest where Jo’s missing.”
“It was Jo?” Evan said.
“Could be. Said she was with her boyfriend and the missing deputy. Deputy’s hurt, needs medevac.”
“And?”
“County rescue up there’s swamped. They have a helicopter, but it’s in use, pulling a family out of a station wagon that got swept into the river. The roads are a mess too. Nobody from their SAR people can get up to the area.”
Evan ran her hands through her hair. “What are they going to do?”
“They’ve called the Air National Guard. The PJs are on their way.”
57
Jo and Autumn left Von’s screams behind them and ran from the mine. They lugged themselves up the eroded and slippery hillside outside the mine shaft. Autumn’s hands trembled as she grabbed roots and rocks to pull herself up.
The walkie-talkie scritched. Von’s voice came through. “Help me.”
Nobody responded. Von called again. “I’m in the mine, with my leg impaled on a fucking spear. Get me out of here.”
Jo kept going. Nobody replied to Von’s cries for help.
“Don’t they hear him?” Autumn said.
“Maybe not.”
They pulled themselves farther up the hill and over the lip of a gully, to a small crest in the trees. Above them, Jo saw the power pylons that bookended the ravine. On the near side, beside the steps that led up to the catwalk, Lark knelt by Noah’s side. Jo couldn’t see Gabe.
From the mine, Von screamed over the walkie-talkie. “Don’t leave me here. I’m stuck like a pig. Get me out of here.”
Haugen radioed: “Shut up.”
Von screamed again. “Ratner’s gonna come back. You gotta get me out.”
“Von, close your mouth and pay attention. Ratner is not after you. He’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
“He went over the side of a washout with a bullet in his back.”
Jo and Autumn exchanged a glance. Ratner, gone. A wave of relief hit Jo.
“Is Autumn secure?” Haugen said.
“Are you going to get me out?” Von said.
“Did Autumn elude you?”
Von hesitated. “No. But she will if you don’t hurry and pull me out of this pit.”
Jo’s relief waned. Von was a terrible liar. Haugen had to realize Autumn had escaped—and that she couldn’t have gotten far.
Haugen’s voice cooled. “Don’t fret. We’ve arranged rescue. The police are sending a helicopter.”
“You better not be goddamned lying, Dane.”
“They’re en route. They think Sabine is that Beckett character, here in dire straits with the missing deputy. You’ll be out of there in no time.”
“And then?”
“Then we fly to Reno in their chopper. And from there, off into the great nowhere. Hold on, my friend.”
“How are we gonna fly away—Alaska Airlines? I have a fucking branch in my leg. Am I supposed to ask the stewardess for a cup of ice to control arterial bleeding?”
Sabine came on. “The chopper is medevac search and rescue. And a private jet is waiting for us in Reno. Now get off the radio.”
“They’d better be waiting. If they aren’t, I’ll—” He screamed again. “The fuck is . . . Oh God, rats—”
His shriek nearly caused feedback from the walkie-talkie. A shot blared, and a second.
Then the walkie-talkie feed went dead. Jo and Autumn gaped at the radio.
Jo said, “I think Von just got hit with a ricochet.”
Autumn eyed her, hard. “I told him rats would get him. Panic is self-sustaining. Fear will kill you.”
Downhill, something moved. Autumn peered toward the mine. Jo ducked and pulled the girl down below the crumbling dirt lip of the gully. She put a finger to her lips.
Was it Haugen? Sabine? They had to be nearby in the forest. She listened and heard rocks slide down the hillside—pebbles, ticking and tumbling—as if kicked loose by a person walking on the slope below them.
She and Autumn needed to move, but not if standing up would expose their position. She got out her phone. She thumbed the controls until she found ringtone options. She selected Alarm. She put the phone to the walkie-talkie, pushed the Transmit button, and set off the phone’s alarm.
Smothered in her hand, the sound from the phone was barely audible. But the walkie-talkie sent it out strong. It sounded like a Klaxon.
Beyond the eroded lip of the gully above them, echoing through the pines, amplified and distorted by cheap electronics, the sound blared from another walkie-talkie.
Three feet away.
Jo’s hair stood on end. She looked up. From the top of the gully, Sabine reared up and grabbed for her.
Jo leapt back but Sabine snagged a handful of her hair. They fell together into the gully. They rolled in the dirt, grunting, and as Jo went over and over, she saw the pistol in Sabine’s hand. They slid across wet rocks to the edge of an eroded drop-off and lurched to a stop against a fallen log, with Jo on her back and Sabine on top of her. Sabine brought up the gun.
The pickax came from the side, over Jo’s head, whirling end over end. With a blunt crack it hit Sabine full in the face.
She toppled backward and slid down the drop-off onto mossy rocks six feet below.
Jo spun. Gabe ran past her, grabbed the pickax again, and jumped over the log toward Sabine.
Jo crawled to her knees and looked over the log. “Is she dead?”
He lifted Sabine’s head by the hair. Her eyes were vacant, but she was breathing. He dropped her head, careless of the rock beneath it. Jo had never seen him act so heartless. She thought she’d never loved him more.
He looked for the pistol. “Fell between the rocks. There’s a cleft—damn.”
He knelt to try to retrieve it. Jo and Autumn clambered down to help.
“It’s lodged five feet down there in the cleft,” Jo said. “We’ll never reach it.”
He stood. “Then let’s go.”
Sabine moaned. Jo grabbed the walkie-talkie from her, flipped Sabine onto her stomach, pulled off Sabine’s pack, and unzipped it.
Jackpot. Ropes.
“Gabe, get going. I’m going to tie her up.”
He hesitated until she said, “No. I don’t trust this bitch as far as you can throw her.”
He nodded and darted back up the hill for Lark and Noah.
<
br /> Jo pulled out a thin length of rope and a roll of electrical tape. She tossed the tape to Autumn. “Gag her.”
Autumn wound the tape around Sabine’s head five times, tore it with her teeth, and slapped her palm against the woman’s mouth to seal the adhesive. Jo whipped the rope around Sabine’s hands and feet. They left her roped like a steer and climbed the hill after Gabe.
In the cold air and golden sunlight, Jo saw clearly. The next few minutes would go very right or very wrong. They had choices to make.
“Autumn, I want you to listen to me. We may have to separate.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I have to help Gabe get Noah across the catwalk. Then we have to get Peyton. That’ll take time. If I get caught, if Haugen gets me and Gabe, you have to get away. You’ll have to take the long way out of here.”
“Alone—leave you guys?”
“You’d have to. If Haugen sees you, you’re toast.” Jo grabbed her arm and pointed back down the hillside, past the Jeffrey pines and crimson dogwoods. “Below the mine there’s a trail. It winds through the ravine and eventually ends at the clearing by the logging road where we ran into you yesterday.”
“That’s where we’re going, right?” Autumn said.
“Yes. The trail is longer—it’ll take you a couple hours. I know you’re spent. But if things go bad, you have to go for it. You’ll get there, and the cops will too.”
Autumn froze, her face a welter of fear and remorse and longing. “No.”
Jo’s eyes welled. Was Autumn serious? “You can escape. That’s what we’ve been aiming for this whole time.”
“I won’t leave without my friends,” she said.
Jo knew something Autumn might not be considering: Autumn was her only bargaining chip. Should she herself be captured by Haugen, the only way she could possibly buy her own freedom was by turning Autumn over to him.
“You sure?” she said.
“Completely.”
Jo squeezed her shoulders. Autumn did look like Tina. She saw it now.
