by Rebecca York
“Then I’ll flood the room with tear gas. You’ll have to leave, and you won’t be in such good shape to appreciate the games I’ve prepared for you.”
Mack heaved himself up, staggering a little and grabbing the wall to steady himself.
“I’m not so good on my feet,” he called out.
“Too bad.”
“Give me a minute. I need a drink of water.”
“Why should I let you?”
“Because it won’t be as much fun running me through your maze like a lab rat if I’m half dead.”
IT WAS DAWN WHEN the helicopter landed in a field outside of town. Sam had called ahead and arranged for a car to meet Hunter and Brady, and also the additional agents who were on their way.
When the two lean, dark-haired men climbed out of the chopper, their ride was waiting for them.
“Thanks for the quick service,” Brady said as he paid the driver.
“When will the other chopper arrive?”
“They’re about twenty minutes behind us with Jed Prentiss and Max Dakota.”
“We’ll be waiting.”
As soon as they roared away, Hunter got out his cell phone and computer and dialed Mack’s number. There was no answer.
He looked at Brady. “Bad news. Mack’s off the air.”
“We’ll start at his last known location. The gas station.”
While they drove, Hunter called Sam Lassiter back at the office.
“What have you got for me?” he asked.
“I have the location of properties that have been sold or rented in the past twelve months.”
“You think that’s far enough back?” Hunter asked.
“I hope so. The list should already be in your inbox.”
As Brady drove toward town, Hunter accessed his mail.
“According to Mack’s notes, the house is most likely in an isolated location.”
“Okay, we’ll get that information to the police,” Brady said as they drove slowly toward the gas station. On the street half a block away, they found Mack’s car. It was empty.
After checking it out, they cautiously approached his last known location. The parking lot was also empty, but near the open door to the men’s room, they found a small pool of blood.
Brady cursed as they cautiously approached the open door.
Inside was a some kind of mechanism that looked like it was designed to spray gas at someone outside the door.
Brady cursed again. “I guess that’s how the bastard nailed him.”
Hunter looked at the blood. “Did he shoot him?”
“No way of knowing. He could have hit his head when he went down.”
“We’ve got to assume Fried’s got him and Jamie.”
JAMIE WAITED FOR THE answer with her breath shallow.
“True,” their captor answered. “You can have a few more minutes in your cell.”
Mack gave her a victorious look. It wasn’t much of a victory, but it bought them a little time, and it proved that Fried wanted a certain kind of experience.
Mack kept his hand on the wall as he moved to the sink, and she watched him with anxiety. He looked like he could barely walk, but maybe he was putting on a show for Fried, so he’d think it would be easy to come down into the funhouse to finish off his victims.
She shuddered. That wasn’t going to happen to her and Mack. There were two of them, and only one of him.
Still, she knew from the way she’d been handled that Fried was a man who hated to take chances. He’d make sure the odds were tipped in his favor.
She watched Mack check his pockets and find that they were all empty.
Of course Fried wouldn’t allow him to keep anything like a cell phone that could help him.
When he’d finished searching, he cupped his hands under the faucet and lifted them to his lips, repeating the process several times. Then he splashed cold water on his face and shook his head.
“You, too,” he said. “Take a drink.”
She also drank, then looked at Mack. She wanted to talk to him, but if she did, Fried would hear her. She wanted to remind him that she knew this place better than their captor could imagine. That had to give her an advantage, she hoped.
“Better get going,” the voice boomed.
WITH NO OTHER OPTIONS, Brady and Hunter started checking properties around the Gaptown area. The first ten were too small.
Then they found a large house that looked like it could fit the description.
But as they drew closer, Brady’s eyes narrowed. Although it was still early in the morning, a boy and girl who appeared to be about three or four were riding tricycles up and down the driveway. Another three children were playing on a jungle gym. And two women were giving the two men in the car long looks.
After a quick conversation, one of them walked toward the vehicle but stopped a few yards away.
“Can I help you?” she asked, eyeing them with suspicion. Which was the right thing to do when a couple of strange men were hanging around a house with a bunch of kids.
“We were looking for a man who bought a large, old house in the Gaptown area,” he said, knowing the explanation sounded lame.
“Well, this is the Kiddy Care Day Care Center,” the woman said.
“And you purchased this house within the past year?” Brady asked.
“Listen, mister, if you don’t leave here right away, I’m going to call the police.”
“Sorry, ma’am,” Brady said.
Hunter pulled away, and they drove to the end of the street and made a U-turn.
“This is going to take some time,” Brady muttered.
MACK TOOK JAMIE’S HAND and squeezed, hoping he could reassure her with his touch.
He was still cursing himself for getting caught as they walked through the door and into a dimly-lit basement corridor that smelled like a graveyard. What had Fried done, stuffed dead rats in the walls?
So this was what the place was like. Jamie had described the funhouse, but he hadn’t gotten the complete picture until now. He could see that one side of the hallway was probably formed from the original wall of the house. The other had been constructed of plywood.
He kicked at it, testing how well built it was, and it flexed a little.
On the walls were color posters from old horror movies. Night of the Living Dead. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Nightmare on Elm Street. Gruesome, but tame compared to what Jamie had told him was in the rest of the house.
As soon as they were out of the cell, he heard the lock click behind them. No going back that way, he thought.
Suddenly slasher movie music blared from hidden speakers. Beside him, Jamie shivered and he turned to her and pulled her into his arms, holding her tight.
She clung to him just as tightly.
He brought his mouth to her ear and spoke in a low voice. “I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“I got caught.”
“So did I.” She swallowed hard.
“But I should have been prepared for something tricky at the gas station.”
“Don’t! You didn’t know what to expect.”
He dragged in a breath, telling himself there was no point in focusing on what they should have done. The only important thing was what they did now.
“He thinks he’s going to win, but we’ll get out of this together,” he told her, hoping to hell it was true.
She nodded against his shoulder, but he wasn’t sure she believed him.
She raised her face and looked at him in the dim light. “Just in case,” she said, then stopped as her voice broke.
“Steady,” he murmured.
She nodded. “I’m okay.”
He knew it had to be a lie, but he only nodded.
“Just in case we don’t get out of here, I want you to know something important. I love you.”
Despite everything, happiness swelled inside him. “Oh, Jamie. I love you, too. So much. I’ve ached to tell you, b
ut I was afraid to say it. Afraid that the words would send you running as fast as you could in the other direction.”
“I might have run,” she admitted. “But now I’ve got my head screwed on straight. Funny how looming death sorts out your priorities.”
“This isn’t the end for us,” he said fiercely. “I promise.”
She closed her eyes, and he knew she was trying to block out this horrible place as she pulled his mouth down to hers for a long, passionate kiss. He clung to her, his lips moving over hers, praying that it wasn’t for the last time.
“Just so you know what you have to look forward to,” she said when they came up for air. Then she brought her mouth to his ear and spoke in a barely audible whisper.
“We’ve got an advantage. Remember, I’ve been here before. I know how this place works. I think I can avoid the worst traps. I hope,” she added.
They were still standing by the door. From within the cell, Mack heard a hissing noise. Then noxious gas began to seep around the cracks in the door, and they both began to cough.
Mack grabbed her hand, and they staggered down the hall, still coughing. They turned a corner and stopped, both of them wheezing.
“We should get out of this hallway,” he muttered.
Still clasping her hand, he led her farther away from the cell. Before they’d gotten more than ten paces, an explosion rocked the corridor.
Mack threw Jamie to the floor, coming down on top of her to protect her from the blast.
In the confined space, his ears were ringing and he braced to feel chunks of cement or cinder block raining down on his back and head. But it didn’t happen.
Only smoke and dust filled the air.
“It’s not real.” As she spoke, the words set off a coughing fit.
He eased off of her, and they both sat up and looked around. As the dust settled, they could see a blackened place on the floor where some kind of small explosive had detonated, creating the illusion of something worse.
“Just one of his little tricks,” she managed to choke out.
“Yeah.”
Mack leaned his head against the wall, struggling for breath, trying his damnedest not to pass out.
“I’ll bet he’s watching us and laughing,” she murmured, looking up, trying to spot a hidden camera.
He probably had cameras at the gas station, too, Mack thought, and he’d watched Mack fall into his trap. He wanted to fill the air with curses, but he held the words back.
Jamie started to speak again but stopped herself, and he guessed she’d thought of some information she didn’t want the bastard to know.
Getting to her knees, she put her mouth to his ear. “I didn’t see anything like this when I was here before.”
“He probably rotates his tricks,” he muttered.
He’d been hoping Jamie could figure out how to escape. Now he realized he’d been fooling himself.
Chapter Fourteen
Henry got up and paced across his lounge area, turning his head so he could keep the TV monitor in his line of vision.
The bastards were talking about something, and they didn’t want him to hear them. Did that mean they realized the entire funhouse was wired for sound and not just the basement cell?
How could they know about that?
Maybe the detective had simply warned her to be cautious.
He turned off the background music and tried jacking up the volume control, but he still couldn’t pick up their conversation.
He cursed loudly. He had the feeling they were planning something. That wasn’t going to do them any good. They couldn’t hide. They couldn’t get out of the house. What did they think they could do that they were trying to keep him from knowing about?
Maybe he should end this game more quickly than he’d planned. That would eliminate any threat. But it would also eliminate a great deal of his enjoyment.
He studied the screen again, then zoomed in on the couple. The guy looked like he was in pretty bad shape. Maybe there was no need to rush, after all.
“IF WE STAY HERE, are we going to get gassed or something?” Mack muttered.
“I don’t know.” Again she put her mouth to his ear. “If we can get to the next floor, we should head for the dining room. From there we can get to the front door. Then we can use one of the dining room chairs to batter through a window.”
He turned his head to reverse their positions. “Are there other exits?”
“There have to be.”
“Did you see any others?”
“No.”
“We’ll find one.” He stayed where he was, leaning against the wall and gathering his strength. Another idea was forming in his mind. It might not do them a damn bit of good, but they wouldn’t know until they tried.
Again he spoke in a whisper. “I’m willing to bet that Fried is somewhere in the house. He thinks we can’t get to him, but maybe we can.”
“Where would he be?” Jamie asked in a low voice.
“You said the funhouse is on the first floor and in the basement, so he’d probably be on the next level.”
“I saw stairs going up from the front hall,” she recalled.
“I bet he didn’t think anyone would get into the foyer, but that’s where I landed in my last dream.”
“Right.”
Jamie nodded. “We should go,” she said. “Before he does something else to us.”
Mack heaved himself to his feet.
She gave him a critical look. “How are you?”
“Fine.”
She made a snorting sound. “Sure.”
Down the hallway, they came to a place where they had to go right or left. Jamie had talked about choices like this. It could be bad either way. But they hadn’t been playing Fried’s game very long. He wouldn’t have a fatal trap so soon in the game, would he?
Mack hoped not. As they walked slowly forward, he kept thinking about how this bastard’s game must work. He was watching them now on a TV monitor, but he couldn’t be watching all the time. Sooner or later he was going to come down here to get them. Then they’d be out of sight—at least for a little while. With any luck that would give them time to turn the tables and set some kind of trap for the guy.
He scrambled for information, wishing he’d paid more attention to Jamie’s descriptions of the traps in here, but at first he hadn’t thought it was real. And he certainly hadn’t thought he’d end up in this hellhole.
HUNTER HAD SWITCHED ON the reading light and was scanning the list of houses that had been purchased or rented in the past twelve months. Jed and Max had also arrived, and they were checking out property on the east side of town.
Hunter kept scanning the list as Brady drove to the next west side location. This time when they reached the property, they found that a bulldozer had flattened the structure. Apparently someone had bought the house for the purpose of tearing it down and using the land.
Another dead end.
Brady turned the car around. “There’s got to be a better way to do this.”
Hunter looked up from the list. “I’ve been thinking. Last summer, Kathryn and I took Ethan to Gaptown. There’s a state park up here with an artificial lake. We had a fun time there, but we also went into town for some meals and to shop. There are a lot of mansions in the West End. Apparently they’re scooped up by doctors and lawyers and other people with money. Some live there all year round. Others just use them for vacation houses. He could be using one of those.”
Brady considered the theory. “But if someone bought a big mansion in an upscale neighborhood, wouldn’t the neighbors pay attention to the property transfer?”
Hunter shrugged. “They might. But if it’s one of those owners who’s just in town off and on, the neighbors might not get to know him.” He pointed to the list. “There’s a house on Washington Street that I think we should investigate.”
“Why?”
“The guy who bought it is named Mr. Hyde.”
Brady sho
ok his head. “Could be a coincidence.”
“Or our guy thinking he’s tricky.”
MACK LEANED TOWARD JAMIE and spoke into her ear again. “We’d better try to get upstairs.”
She thought for a moment. “I remember there’s a big room somewhere down here. It’s got a flight of steps going up.”
“Okay.”
He stopped, taking a moment to test his arms and legs. He wasn’t up to par, but he was feeling better than when he’d first awakened on the cold cellar floor.
Still speaking into Jamie’s ear, he asked, “Do you know which way?”
She gave him a sick look. “I wish I did.”
“We’ll find it together,” he said, taking her hand and starting down the corridor toward the right.
They’d walked a yard when the cement floor changed to plywood.
Thirty seconds after they’d stepped onto it, the surface began to roll and shake.
Mack’s curse rang through the hallway as he looked over his shoulder.
“Too far to go back,” he muttered. “Keep going.”
The motion accelerated, tumbling them back and forth.
“Get down,” he shouted to Jamie.
She dropped to the floor and braced her hands against the rocking floor.
In the dim light, he could see that the shaking stopped a couple of yards from where they were being bounced around.
“Crawl,” he muttered as he steadied himself on hands and knees and began moving across the tipping surface. When the motion became even more violent, he feared they’d break an arm or leg.
Their progress was slow, but he finally clambered off onto solid floor, then turned to help Jamie off.
As soon as they’d cleared the plywood floor, it stopped rocking. Either Fried was watching them and had turned off the effect, or there were sensors in the floor to tell the mechanism that the weight of their bodies was now absent. He’d like to know which.
Although he was on solid ground, his head kept spinning, and he leaned against the wall, fighting nausea.
Jamie crawled toward him and laid her head against his shoulder.
“That was sure a fun ride,” she muttered.
