Fury

by Steven James

  If it is him, if he really did help Hollister escape, he knows more than he should. He might know enough to bring this research to a halt.

  With that in mind, Dr. Waxford realized that if he couldn’t find Hollister or Zacharias, he might have to take other, more extreme measures to make sure no one would discover that any of his research had ever happened here.

  There were systems in place for this eventuality.

  The explosives were already wired into the walls. It would look like a gas leak explosion when it was over and it would seal up and cover the underground research rooms.

  His staff would be relocated.

  A clean start.

  He took out his laptop and started to download the files he would need to take with him so he could carry on his research elsewhere if he did need to destroy the facility.

  No one was staking out the house, but Daniel told Kyle to stay in the car and keep an eye out as he went into the kitchen.

  It’s not law enforcement’s job to clean up after crimes occur, so there was still dried blood on the floor.

  It was in the exact spot where, back when he was at the psych ward, Daniel had envisioned his dad being attacked. So apparently that part of his dream had been true, even if the part about his hand getting chewed up in the garbage disposal hadn’t been.

  Seeing the bloodstains here, now, for real, was tough.

  Man, he could not believe Mr. Zacharias was the one who’d helped Hollister escape.

  But where does that leave you?

  What happened to your dad?

  He knelt beside the blood, placed his hand on the cool linoleum and then let his thoughts take him back to Saturday night.

  And found that he’d been right.

  Being here did jar his memory.

  He closed his eyes as one image after another wisped through his mind, each becoming clearer, each nudging him back closer to the truth.

  You go to your room, planning to read through the diaries, but then decide to grab a soda from the kitchen, so you put the box containing the journals on your desk beside your phone and head down the hall.

  Halfway to the living room, the lights cut off.

  Your dad’s not home and there’s no storm outside, so you figure it must be a fuse.

  You know where the fuse box is, over by the washing machine in the basement. You find a flashlight in the junk drawer in the kitchen and descend the stairs.

  You’re on your way to the panel when the garage door opens.

  A moment later, your dad calls out to you and you think that’s odd because, with things as dark as they are, he wouldn’t have any idea that you’re down here. Besides, it doesn’t sound like he’s trying to be heard down the steps, but instead like he’s speaking to someone in the kitchen: “Daniel? Are you alright?”

  And then: “What’s going on, Dan?”

  All at once there’s a pained cry and a thud.

  Silence.

  You shout to him, asking if he’s okay, but there’s no reply.

  Hurrying up the stairs into the kitchen, you swipe your flashlight’s beam across the room and see him lying on the floor near the fridge.

  “Dad!”

  He isn’t moving.

  You rush to him.

  A knife is sticking out of his side and it quivers slightly with each labored breath that he takes.

  You try to decide whether to go for your phone to call for help or to stay here and try to stop the bleeding, but then realize that if you don’t get an ambulance here soon, your dad is going to die.

  But whoever did this is probably still—

  You scan the kitchen, see no one.

  Quickly returning to your bedroom, you find your cell and punch in 911 as you hurry back to help your dad.

  You set down the flashlight and try to control the bleeding, but there’s a lot of blood.

  So much blood.

  On your hands.

  All over.

  As you wait for dispatch to pick up, you hear movement behind you—the slight creak in the floor that tells you someone is there.

  Whipping around, you see a figure emerge. He swings something toward your head.

  There’s a splinter of stars and then you see nothing, feel nothing, except for the weight of a wide, sweeping darkness that’s quickly overtaking you.

  But right before you pass out, you hear someone calling from the basement steps. “That’s Daniel,” the person says. “This changes everything.”

  Daniel blinked, then stared at the door to the basement.

  His heart was racing.

  There were two people here, not just one.

  Whose voice did you hear?

  He closed his eyes again and concentrated, but he wasn’t able to recall any more details about who might have knocked him out or who’d been in the stairwell. However, even though he couldn’t identify the voice, he had the sense that he’d heard it before.

  So.

  Was it one of Hollister’s past associates?

  Mr. Zacharias helped Hollister escape. Could it have been him?

  Now there was a thought.

  Go. Get moving. Meet with him. See what he has to say.

  While Kyle left for Nicole’s house, Daniel kept Larry’s phone with him and, after tracking down a set of keys, he took off in his own car to meet up with the man who might very well have been there at the house when his dad was stabbed.

  CHAPTER

  FIFTY-FIVE

  6:11 P.M.

  20 MINUTES LEFT

  Sheriff Byers managed to pull the spring free, but as it popped off the cot, it shot across the room and ricocheted off the wall.

  Rolling.

  Rolling.

  And finally stopping, out of reach.

  But it might just be close enough for you to get with your heel.

  With the cot’s legs fastened to the floor, he couldn’t scoot it closer, so instead, he swung his leg out and stretched out as far as the handcuffs would allow him.

  After two tries, he was able to nudge the spring back toward him with his foot.

  A little more work, and he managed to roll it close enough to grab.

  Then, spring in hand, he slipped the tip into the lock mechanism of the handcuffs, trying to free himself.

  Daniel wasn’t far from the institute. As he drove toward it, he let his mind flip through the facts, the blurs.

  What he knew.

  What he didn’t.

  Malcolm Zacharias wanted to talk to him about past associates that Hollister had who might’ve helped him, and one of those people was certainly Ty Bell, who used to party with him before his arrest.

  Was it him?

  Could Ty be working with Hollister?

  Is he the one who attacked your dad? Or, could he have been the person you heard coming up from the basement right before you blacked out?

  Nicole had sent him the address of the property the Bells owned: 1594 West Creek Drive.

  It was on Waunakee Lake, near the institute, and right in the center of the sites where the poached wolves had been found.

  Could Ty be the one who tried to kill you at the island? He’s pulled a knife on you before. He’s capable of—

  Larry’s cell phone rang, jarring Daniel out of his thoughts.

  The caller ID simply said “business” and Daniel anticipated that it was probably Larry calling from his landline. Talking on the phone while driving in a snowstorm wasn’t easy or smart, but Daniel wasn’t about to take the time to pull over to take the call.

  He answered. “Larry?”

  “Yeah, I found out something. Remember how I was looking into if anyone might have rented a boat from another company? Well, one guy, a friend of mine from across town, he did rent a boat to someone.”

  “Who’d he rent it to?”

  “Grady Planisek.”

  “Planisek?”

  “Yeah. He arrived after you did, must’ve gone around the south side of the island and that’s why you didn’
t see the boat. Or it might have been the snow and the limited visibility—in any case, does the name ring any bells?”

  “Actually, it does. There was a boy from this area who disappeared back when I was a kid. That was his name: Grady Planisek.”

  And that’s what the demon flew through at the barn—the carved words, the phrase “Grady Planisek was here.”

  Daniel thanked Larry and hung up.

  Who would have used that name to rent the boat?

  Grady went missing seven years ago.

  As far as Daniel could remember, the boy was ten when he disappeared.

  An idea came to him out of nowhere and it reshuffled all the puzzle pieces that he’d assumed were already in place.

  Could Grady Planisek still be alive?

  Is that possible? Could—

  A strip of ice and a momentary skid toward the snowbank jolted Daniel’s attention back to navigating along the worsening roads, but after regaining control of the car, he thought about Grady.

  You have the address of the Bell’s property.

  It’s on the way to the institute.

  It’s close.

  Could whoever attacked your dad be there?

  Would Malcolm Zacharias be in the area, at the institute, because of that?

  Is he behind all this?

  Or is it Grady?

  Or Ty?

  You could check it out.

  Mr. Zacharias wants to meet to talk about people Hollister knew before going to prison. Ty Bell is one of them.

  So: Meet with Mr. Zacharias or go and investigate the property on the lake?

  The intersection was just up ahead.

  You never told Mr. Zacharias when you were going to meet with him. You can get to West Creek Drive if you take the turnoff up ahead. Check it out. If there’s nothing there, you can go see him afterwards.

  Daniel came to the road, made the turn, and headed for 1594 West Creek Drive.

  Nicole was checking her messages to see if Daniel had texted her back when she saw the sweep of headlights cut briefly through the window as a car entered their driveway.

  Huh, Daniel and Kyle made a lot better time than they thought they would.

  A few moments later the doorbell rang.

  After setting her phone on the coffee table next to the couch, she went to the front door, flicked on the porch light and glanced out the window.

  No one was on the porch.

  Okay. That was weird.

  Who rang the doorbell?

  After a short internal debate, she went ahead and eased the door open. “Hello? Daniel? Kyle? Where are you guys?”

  She peered into the snowy night and saw no movement, nothing.

  However, as she was about to close the door and lock it, someone leapt out of the shadows around the side of the house and rushed her. Stumbling backward, she tried shutting the door, but he wedged his foot in the way.

  She moved back, her heart pounding tightly in her chest.

  Ty Bell entered the living room.

  “Hello, Nicole.”

  And closed the door behind him.

  CHAPTER

  FIFTY-SIX

  Last September, Nicole had been driving through the country at night with Daniel after both of their dates failed to show up for the Homecoming dance.

  As it turned out, Ty and his three buddies were waiting for them on the road. Daniel had faced them down when they were about to break into the car and get to her—she didn’t even want to think of what they might’ve done to her if they’d been able to get in—and they left. That’s what’d led her to carry pepper spray in her purse ever since.

  And now she was alone with him, and her parents weren’t supposed to be back until eight.

  Okay, but Daniel and Kyle are on their way. Daniel said six thirty. You just need to hold out, keep him talking, until then.

  “How did you—” she began, but then anticipated what’d happened. “Oh, you were at your dad’s office, is that it? You heard the voicemail I left on the tip line.”

  “I was doing a little research.”

  “On where the wolves are.”

  He smiled and tilted his head slightly to the side. “Look at you. Threading things together.”

  Anger rose inside her.

  “How many have there been, Ty?”

  “How many?”

  “Wolves. How many have you shot that haven’t been found?”

  “They’ve found all of them except for one. It’s been a good run.”

  She stepped forward and slapped him.

  Hard.

  He’s bigger than you are. He’s stronger. You shouldn’t have—

  Screw it.

  She was glad she had.

  She backed up. “What are you doing here?”

  He rubbed some fresh blood off his split lip. “I thought you and I could have a little chat.”

  “Daniel and Kyle are going to be here any minute.”

  “Then we better not waste any time.”

  Stall.

  No, you need to call someone. Get help.

  She’d left her phone beside the couch and, as she slowly backed up toward it, Ty must have guessed what she was after, because he pounced forward, shoved her out of the way, and nabbed the phone.

  “I’ll take that.” He slid it into his pocket. “This way we can have a little privacy.”

  Oh, not good.

  Not good.

  You need to get out of here.

  But he took a step so that he was standing between her and the front door. “I know where your boyfriend’s dad is.”

  “What?” she exclaimed.

  “If you go online right now and confess to shooting those wolves, I’ll tell you where he is.”

  “You attacked Daniel’s dad? It was you?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t me. But I do know where he is. And I’ll tell you.” He waved his phone at her. He had a video app pulled up. “You just need to admit to the world what you’ve been up to.”

  “That’s crazy. Who would ever believe I’m the one who killed those wolves?”

  “They will because of the gun they’re gonna find in your garage.”

  “That’s not enough. Daniel was with me when we found the wolf you shot on Saturday. He knows it wasn’t me. He’ll vouch for me.”

  “Psycho boy?” He scoffed. “He’s not the most stable guy around. Besides, everyone would expect him to cover for you.” He patted the pocket he’d slipped her phone into. “They’re also going to find the tagged wolf locations on your cell.”

  “Oh. I see. After you download them.”

  Another smug grin.

  “You can’t possibly think that I would agree to that.”

  “Well.” He put his phone away. “At least I tried.”

  She didn’t like the look on his face.

  Just go ahead and do it, Nicole. No one will buy it anyway and maybe he’ll tell you where Daniel’s dad is.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll say I shot them. Let me have your phone.”

  “Just the fact that you believed me tells me how naïve you really are.”

  The wicked glint in his eyes frightened her and she thought again of the time when he’d pulled the knife on Daniel and tried to get to her in the locked car.

  He carries an automatic knife.

  He probably has it with him tonight.

  He—

  Without waiting another moment, she spun and bolted up the stairs to her bedroom. Slammed the door. Locked it.

  Slid her dresser over against it.

  But then she heard Ty stalking up the stairs.

  “We have some unfinished business, Nicole. But we can take care of it in your bedroom, if that’s how you want this to go.”

  CHAPTER

  FIFTY-SEVEN

  6:21 P.M.

  10 MINUTES LEFT

  Sheriff Byers heard the mechanism in the handcuff’s lock click.

  The cuffs popped open.

  H
e unsnapped the link from around his wrist and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet, then crossed the room.

  He hadn’t heard Hollister lock the door earlier, but he was ready to kick it down if necessary.

  He tried it.

  Unlocked.

  Good.

  Quietly, he swung it open.

  Jacked up on adrenaline and ready for a fight, he entered the cabin’s living room and took it in: rustic wood furniture. A couch. Two chairs. A fireplace. Three mounted white-tailed deer heads on the wall near a pendulum clock. An open doorway to the kitchen. Glass French doors on the far wall.

  Suturing thread, needles, bloody dressings, and some empty syringes and medicine bottles sat on one of the counters.

  He didn’t recognize the place. Hadn’t been in here before.

  No sign of Hollister.

  Where is he?

  He glanced around the room for a phone, but found none.

  Get out of here. You’re in no shape to fight anyone. Just get moving.

  He was on his way toward the front door when a photo on the mantel above the fireplace caught his attention.

  It was a picture of Ty Bell sitting beside a dead whitetail, a gun laid across its antlers.

  The sheriff paused.

  Who would have put that picture up in his cabin?

  Most likely someone from his family. Most likely—

  Is this Lancaster Bell’s hunting cabin?

  Is he involved?

  Hollister mentioned someone else, said someone was coming. Is Lancaster the one who—

  “Stop right there, Sheriff.” Brandon Hollister emerged from the kitchen, holding a long serrated survival knife. “Sit down. On the couch.”

  Sheriff Byers let his hands form into fists. “Think I’ll stand.”

  Nicole tried to calm her breathing and figure out what to do as Ty wrenched at her locked doorknob.

  “Don’t be like this, Nicole. We can come to another arrangement.”

  Think, Nicole, Think!

  He has your phone.

  She desperately searched her room for—

  Yes.

  He did have her phone.

  But she had her laptop.