'We're not planning anything.'
'You have planned this.'
'This is different,' Marge bristled. 'This is for the children.'
'It is different to you. But it would not be different to Guru Bob.'
Marge stopped talking. Her ears began to hear things - scratching from below. Someone was crawling through. She took out her Beretta just in rare case that it wasn't Elise or Lauren. A minute later, she heard Lauren's frantic whisperings.
'Help me up!'
Marge grasped her dirty hand, and pulled her out of the hole. 'Is everything-'
T don't know, I don't know!' Lauren was breathing hard. 'I left before...' She was panting. 'It took us a long time to get everyone through. Elise says we're way behind schedule. When I left, she still hadn't communicated with the reconnaisance team.
But we both figured I'd better get back before you started to panic'
'I wasn't panicking-'
'Whatever.' Lauren was still gasping. 'It's bad out there, Detective. Lots of shots being traded. It could be why we can't get hold of the rescue team. They don't want to bring attention to this area. I don't know why the police are closing in so fast, especially because we don't have all the children yet.'
'Maybe Bob has killed more peop-' She stopped talking. Vega was listening... always listening. Marge regarded her watch. They were way behind schedule.
Lauren said, 'I really think we should do the nursery first. They're the most vulnerable.'
Marge said, 'All right. Let's go.'
Lauren pointed to the lump under the tarp made by Brother Ansel. 'What about him?'
'He's a real liability. While you were gone, I gave him a mother dose of baby sedatives to keep him quiet.'
'Weren't we saving it for the infants to make them sleepy?'
Marge shrugged. 'You do what you have to do.' She made sure she had her gun and Brother Ansel's radio. 'Wait here while I verify that the classroom is empty.'
She ventured forward. This time she heard some scurrying noises. It was four-thirty in the morning. The Order was waking up. She signaled to Vega and Lauren to follow. The three of them tiptoed to the door connecting the classroom with the nursery. Quietly, Lauren tried to turn the handle.
'It's locked,' she said.
Marge said, 'Then we'll have to go through the hallway.'
'Let me go first,' Lauren said. 'If someone sees me, I'll arouse less suspicion.'
'I shall go with you,' Vega said. 'I will not arouse any suspicion.'
'No, Vega, you stay with me.' Slowly, Marge turned the knob to the classroom door, cracking it open to peek through the slit.
Silence.
She stepped into the passageway. It was empty, but she could hear nearby footsteps.
'The Order's filled with early risers,' Lauren said. She took the lead, tiptoeing to the nursery door.
Opening it a smidge.
Peering inside.
Everyone was sleeping, and all was quiet.
Very quiet considering it was a nursery.
Lauren went inside with Marge and Vega at her heels. She closed the door.
All of them waited for their eyes to adjust to the dark.
After they did, Marge made out a shadowed figure in the corner. A woman was sitting in a rocking chair, eyes closed, her head tilted back. She held a sleeping infant in her arms. At one point, she must have been feeding it because a nearly full bottle was resting on the infant's chin, dripping down its sleep-suit.
Lauren approached the figure. She whispered, 'Terra?'
No answer.
She tried again. 'Terra, love, it's Andromeda.'
Nothing. Terra sitting as still as a mannequin.
Vega said, 'Perhaps she is deep asleep.'
'Something's way off,' Marge said. 'It's eerie. There's no... movement... no...'
She stopped herself, realizing she was sweating. Glancing first at Lauren, then at Vega. 'Nobody move.'
Marge walked over to the closest crib.
Looking down into the cot, at the sleeping form. A pillow-sized bundle wrapped in a dark-colored pajama blanket. The baby seemed to be a little girl of around a year. She was resting on her side. She had smooth, porcelain cheeks, and curls fell over her eyes. Marge reached down to touch her, hands shaking with fear. She felt the baby's forehead. As soon as her fingers brushed against the infant's brow, a bolt of electricity shot down her spine.
The skin was dry and cold.
Carefully, she turned the child onto her back.
No resistance. Not a stir. Her arms flopped outward as if stuffed with cotton. Marge's fingertips touched the soft folds of the baby's neck at the jugular. No detectable pulse.
Marge fought back nausea as she took in Lauren's questioning eyes. She moved on to the second crib, then to the third. Within moments, Lauren understood the significance of Marge's actions. 'Oh God!' She reeled backward. 'Oh dear God, no!'
Marge said, 'Go examine the toddlers on the mattresses-'
'Oh God, Oh God-'
'Shhhh!' Marge chided. 'Quiet, Lauren! Someone will hear-'
She stopped whispering, discerning voices from the outside hall.
Male voices. Abruptly, the nursery door flew open and two ghostly white-robed men stomped in.
One was saying, 'We'll take the bodies and bring-' He saw Marge's white-robed figure. 'Who the hell are-'
Marge didn't let him finish. She hauled off and punched both of them in their groins with quick one-two jabbing stabs. As they doubled over, she whacked her gun over their heads. They crumpled to the floor, moaning and holding themselves between the legs. A final swift kick to their heads with her boot, and they both went out.
The Order was closing in!
Marge barked instructions as she felt the gelid babies for any signs of life. 'Inspect the toddlers just to make sure we didn't overlook a living one.'
Immediately, Vega went to work, but Lauren was shell-shocked. 'Dear God, it's just like Jonestown. Someone must have fed them poison in their formula-'
'Lauren, get to work!'
'I can't believe Terra would do that,' Lauren sobbed. 'If she did, someone must have forced her because she wouldn't have murdered-'
Vega interrupted. 'I think they are all dead-'
'Oh God!' Lauren wailed. 'How could she kill them! Why would she-'
"Shut up!' Marge snapped with intensity. 'We're being invaded. Get to work, dammit!' She felt for Terra's pulse. Nothing. 'Go help Vega with the toddlers! We've got about ten minutes before people are going to wonder where these two knocked-out assholes are.'
Terra's skin was as smooth and frigid as a floe. Marge pushed her shoulder and the body slumped over. She felt the cheek of the infant resting in Terra's arms. Immediately, she broke out in cold rivers of sweat.
'Omigod! This one's warm!' Her heart started to soar. 'She has a pulse! And she's breathing7'
Marge glanced at the bottle: it was full. The baby probably fell asleep before she could ingest enough poison to kill her. Feeling her head go light, Marge realized she'd been hyperventilating. She willed herself to breathe slower.
To Vega, she said, 'Lauren and I have to get the school-aged kids if they 're still alive. We've only got minutes left. Vega, do you think you can crawl through the tunnel by yourself, holding on to her?'
'Yes, I can do it.'
'Vega, it's dark and slimy and scary and very, very long and-'
'I can do it, Detective Marge.' A brief smile. 'You said I would make a very good astronaut. If I cannot crawl through a tunnel, how should I succeed in space? Give me the living baby.'
Marge's eyes clouded with tears. She kissed the teen's forehead. 'No matter what happens, don't come back for us! Go get rescued, Vega! Go out and become the great woman you're destined to be!'
Vega kissed Marge back, then took off with the groggy infant in her arms.
'The younger children are always chaperoned,' Lauren said. 'The adults will scream when they see you.'
'
So I'll shoot them if necessary. Let's go!'
Out from the hallway and into the first of the children's bedrooms. Marge threw open the door, immediately hit by a strong beam of fluorescent light. A white-robed woman spun around, her empty eyes attempting to focus in on Lauren's face. She was holding a plastic jug, three quarters filled with maraschino-colored liquid. 'Sister Andromeda?! You've returned to us-'
'C'mon, Ceres, we've got to get out-'
'But we are getting out!' Ceres pronounced. A vacant smile spread across her lips. "That is what we're doing now, Sister. I'm helping the children leave before the violators take over.'
About thirty children were standing in a single-file line, their eyes still half-closed from being awakened so early. They seemed to range in age from four to ten. On a trestle table sat forty paper cups, containing the unnaturally deep pink liquid. Marge swept her arm across the tabletop and knocked over the cups, the tainted punch spilling over the surface and onto the floor. Ceres stared at her, a look of bewilderment stamped across her face. 'What are you do-'
'Sorry, Sister,' Marge interrupted. Pulling her fist back, she decked Ceres in the face. The woman buckled, then collapsed onto the floor amid the gasps of the children.
'Quiet, children!' Lauren said. 'You must be quiet!'
Sensing their teacher's anger and urgency, the children froze, their expressions ranging from sheer fright to horror. Yet not one of them dared to move a footstep.
Marge was on overdrive. 'Lauren, take them into the tunnel.'
'But there are others-'
'I'll get the others!'
'No, I'll get the others!' Lauren insisted. 'The children will follow me easier than you.'
She was right. Marge said. 'Tell these kids that they must listen to me, no questions asked.'
Lauren repeated Marge's words, using the authority of Sister Andromeda.
Marge looked down the corridor. Finding it empty, she said, 'Come on, kids, this way! And hurry!'
With frantic hand gestures, she moved them toward freedom. She had succeeded in getting half into the classroom when another guard rounded the corner. He saw her a few seconds before she saw him. With shaking hands, he pulled out his gun. He would have had her if he'd been a pro. But he wasn't because he hesitated.
Marge didn't. She shot him twice in the head.
Another white-robe ghost down, Marge thought. This one out for good. It was as if she had been cybertransported into some Pac-Man-type video game, her mission to kill the evil white-robed apparitions before they got her.
'Hurry!' she yelled at the kids. 'This way! Quick, quick, quick!'
Now shoving them into the classroom, toward the trapdoor in the closet. 'Down the hole! It's a tunnel, kids. A long, dark tunnel. You can get through it! You can do it! Once you're through it, you're safe.'
She shone a flashlight into the pit.
'Now all of you! Get down on your hands and knees and crawl!'
No one moved. Some of the younger ones began to cry. Marge homed in on the older children - specifically a tall girl with black eyes and short, black curly hair. 'Get them inside before it's too late! Move it or we're all going to die!'
Terrified, the girl remained paralyzed. Marge shook her with all her might. 'Do it or I'll tell Andromeda that you disobeyed!'
The girl nodded, tears streaming down her cheek. Quivering and crying, she began ushering the little ones into the black hole, pushing them inside the bowels of the earth when they refused to go in of their own accord. As they wailed, the older children took the little ones' shaking hands and dragged them along.
'Go, go, go!' Marge rushed the youngsters inside, holding back the oldest girl. 'What's your name?'
'Centura.'
I'm Marge, Centura. And you're not only going to help me, you're going to be a real hero just like Father Jupiter.' Shoving another tiny child into the black hole. 'Go, go!'
When the last of them were underground, Marge handed Centura a flashlight and said, 'It's up to you to get the kids through. Help the little ones make it if they're too scared to move on their own. There'll be people waiting to help you out the other end. Now move it!'
The child's eyes were pouring water. But dutifully, she ducked into the pit. As soon as the children were inside the pipeline, Marge rushed back to help Lauren. She was leading another group of school-aged kids toward the classroom.
'The last of them?' Marge asked.
'Yes-'
More voices. Adult males. Marge saw them, took aim, shot them in the stomach.
Running to freedom with the remaining children. When they were all inside, Marge slammed the classroom door, wedging a chair up against the handle to keep it locked.
Andromeda turned on her miner's cap and the flashlight. 'Let's go! Down the hole! Move it!'
More cries and wails. Some refused. Marge resorted to brute force, literally hurling them down the squalid void before they could protest, and shoving them back underground when they tried to turn around and pop back through the closet's trapdoor.
'Go, go, go!'
The moaning was heart wrenching. Marge felt like an ogre, but horrid visions of murdered infants made her work fast and furiously. Screaming, yelling, physically rough with them until the kids realized they had no choice. The direction was only one way!
Waiting for the last of them to be securely underground! When that final child had been plunged into the pit, Marge tore off her robe, turned on her miner's cap and thrust herself down the dank, narrow tube.
Once again, panic welled up in her chest as mud and grit surrounded her every pore. But her heart was beating so rapidly, she scarcely noticed her fear. Completely engulfed by muddy earth, she felt as if the tunnel had narrowed within the last two hours. Her body dragged against the slime, the dozens of feet in front of her kicking pools of sullied water into her mouth and face.
Without warning, the ground opened its maws and roared. It shook them fiercely like salt in a shaker, raining down mud and soil, further pinching off the already constricted tubing. High-pitched screams filled the conduit.
Marge coughed up muddy phlegm and spat it from her mouth.
'Keep going!' she screamed, pushing bodies forward. 'Keep going, keep going! We're going to make-'
Another blast!
Hard and furious!
From above, the underground belly convulsed! Dirt dropping in chunks and clods, collapsing onto them, tumbling onto the children amid frenetic coughs, sneezes, choking noises, screams, cries, and wails. Marge's lower body was buried beneath an avalanche of loose soil. She couldn't shake it off - no room. With determination, she dug her nails into the treacherous terrain and clawed her way out of the wreckage.
'Go, go, go!' she shrieked as she coughed up muck. 'Faster, faster!'
Abruptly, the temperature inside the ground began to soar, turning the tube into a steamy mudbath.
'Quick before the next one!' Marge gasped out. 'Hurry!'
All that precious oxygen being used up.
'Hold your breath if you can...' But her head became woozy. Stars danced in front of her face.
No, you're not going to pass out! The children need...
Deep breaths.
They need you...
Blacker and blacker.
Stop a moment...
Just a moment...
The stars began to recede. Her head was now pounding. But a pounding head was preferable to a light one.
The temperature continued to climb.
The ground surrounding them hot to the touch.
Baked alive.
The child in front of her stopped moving - a boy of around eight. Marge didn't know if he had frozen or passed out. She didn't care. With great effort, she began heaving him forward, using the reservoir strength of her palms. His body was heavy, his bones felt leaden, but there was no choice. If she didn't get him through, she 'd never make it through.
Heave!
Rest!
Heave!
Rest!
Hot, hot, hot, hot!
Heave!
Heave, heave, heave!
Youch! Hot, hot, hot!
But miracles happen in the most unusual places. The boy suddenly regained consciousness. Though groggy, he was able to move baby steps forward.
Faye Kellerman - Decker 11 - Jupiter's Bones Page 37
