by Pawlik, Tom
Conner’s heart pounded, beating against his ribs like a sledgehammer. He wiped his sleeve across his mouth and tried to calm himself. He couldn’t lose it in here. He had to get out.
He started to back away when one of the corpses sat up straight.
Conner cried out and dropped his gun. In the dim light, he could make out the vague features of a human face behind the loose tarp.
He looked closer and saw rope and duct tape wrapped tightly around the shoulders, chest, and legs. He pulled the plastic down from over the head and was met with a pair of wide blue eyes. A girl’s eyes. Crazed with fear. Like an animal.
“It’s okay; it’s all right,” he whispered as his hands tore at the tape around her chest. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to help you get out of here.”
Several layers of tape covered her mouth and wrapped around her neck. Conner reached up to peel it away but the girl flinched and jerked back, as if trying to move away from him.
Conner held up both hands. “Listen to me! Listen!” His voice was hoarse with hushed urgency. “I am not going to hurt you. I promise. I want to get this tape off.”
She had pushed herself back as far as she could against the wall of the underground prison. Conner reached for the hunting knife and slid it out of its sheath. The blade glinted in the dim light, sending the girl into another spasm. Squirming as she was, Conner knew he wouldn’t be able to free her. He tried again to calm her down but to no avail. Finally he tugged her bound feet toward him and leaned his weight on her legs. Then he wrapped one arm tightly around her upper torso and began slicing the layers of tape.
“Please don’t be afraid,” he whispered in her ear. Her hair was drenched with sweat and moisture. She reeked of body odor and feces. But he could feel her shaking in his grasp. Thin and frail. Trembling fiercely.
Conner paused and set the knife down. He wrapped his other arm around her and held her close to him. His bizarre dreams were making sense now. God had brought him to this cabin in the Interworld… and now had led him here again. “I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Conner. God brought me here to save you.” He continued whispering softly to her for several moments. He could feel her weeping, her eyes pouring tears. He held her a few moments longer until her trembling receded. Then he picked up the knife and cut the bonds.
He peeled the tarp away and as her arms got free, she began clawing at the tape over her mouth, pushing herself back again into the corner.
Conner took a breath and turned his attention to the other body. He gently pulled the tarp down from her head and saw another pair of eyes. Brown and wide open. Staring straight back at him.
“Can you hear me?”
The eyes moved and Conner felt a wave of relief sweep over him. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered. “I’m here to help you. Do you understand me?”
She nodded.
Conner reached again for the knife but found the other girl wielding it in front of her, her thin hand white and shaking. Her eyes were fierce. Filled with hate. She had peeled the tape from her mouth and cursed at Conner in a weak, sobbing voice. “Who… are… you?”
Conner held up his hands. “Please, I’m not going to hurt you. I’ve come to help you.”
“Where are . . . we?”
Conner tried to keep his voice calm. “On a farm… Indiana. These people—I don’t know what they want. But we have to get out of here before someone comes.” He reached out his hand. “I need the knife to free your friend.”
She was still trembling. She swore at him again.
“Look,” he said, debating whether he should just make a grab for the knife. He didn’t have time to reason with someone half-crazed with fear. But he didn’t want to make things worse. “My name is Conner Hayden.…” He couldn’t think of how to begin explaining how he had found them. “Please… what’s your name?”
Her blue eyes narrowed a moment. “Katie,” she hissed at him through clenched teeth.
Conner tried to smile. “Good, Katie. I have to help your friend. I have to cut her loose. We have to get going. We can’t stay here. He could show up any minute.”
She lurched forward. “Don’t touch her! I’ll do it.”
“All right. Okay.” Conner moved away slowly, back into the tunnel. He felt the gun in the gravel, where he had dropped it. As Katie slid over to free her friend, Conner slipped the gun into his jacket pocket.
After a few moments, the other girl was free as well. The two hugged and sobbed on each other. Their jeans were stained with sweat and urine. Their shirts as well were covered in mud and grime. Tape still clung to their matted hair. Conner heard Katie call the other girl Amber.
After a moment, Conner said, “Can you move okay? You think you can make it through the tunnel?”
“We’re okay,” Katie said.
Conner turned and crawled back through the passage and out into the cellar. He flipped on the flashlight as the girls emerged.
They had stopped sobbing now and straightened up slowly, rubbing their joints. Finally Amber spoke up. “Where are we?”
“A farm. Just outside of Westville.”
They both looked confused. “Westville?”
“Indiana. Where are you from?”
“Purdue,” Katie said. “We’re freshmen at Purdue.”
Amber ran a trembling hand through her matted hair. “What day is it?”
“Saturday, October 30,” Conner said.
“The thirtieth?” Katie glared at him. She turned to her friend. “How long have we been here?”
Amber seemed to think for several seconds. Conner could see they were both disoriented. She shook her head. “I think it was the twenty-fourth.”
Katie looked up. “Six days? It felt like six weeks.”
“Who did this to us?”
“A guy named Bristol. Owen Bristol. I think. Big guy. He lives here on this farm with his mother.”
Amber shuddered. “He looks like Satan.”
Conner aimed the light at the stairs. “He’s got you in a cabin in the woods out behind their farm.”
Amber’s strength seemed to be returning. “I was leaving work Sunday night. It was late. A van had parked behind my car, blocking me in. I went to see if anyone was inside and then he just… he came out of nowhere. When I woke up, I was inside the van. All tied up.”
Katie nodded. “And I was leaving a bar that night. He did the same thing. He had his van blocking my car.”
“He had a Taser or something,” Amber said. “I saw him use it on her. Then he pulled her into the van and tied her up.”
Conner frowned. “So he abducted you both on the same night at different locations. Had you seen him around the campus before? Did you recognize him at all?”
Katie shook her head and seemed to fight back tears.
“We didn’t even know each other before this,” Amber said.
“Did he tell you why he kidnapped you?”
“He had us tied up most of the time. He’d give us food and water once in a while, but he never said anything to us. We tried to escape once, and he wrapped us up like that. I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe.”
“If you think you can walk okay, we should go,” Conner said. “We have to head back through the woods and it’s dark. My car is down the road a ways.”
Katie was still holding the knife. “How did you know where to find us?”
“I didn’t,” Conner said. “I didn’t even know you were here. I just felt like I needed to see this place for myself. This cabin.”
“What are you, psychic or something?”
Conner offered a grim chuckle. “It’s a long story. And I’ll be happy to tell you once we’re out of this place. But right now nobody knows where we are. We have to get out and call the police.”
Katie held the knife out further. “If no one knows where we are, how did you find us?”
Conner took a deep breath. “I… I don’t think you’ll believe me.”
�
�Try me.”
“God sent you,” Amber spoke up. “You said before that God brought you here.”
Conner shrugged. “That’s the only way I can describe it.”
“I knew it.” Amber managed a hint of a smile. “I was praying that God would send someone to find us.”
“It worked,” Conner said. “It wor—”
Suddenly they heard a muffled thump in the cabin above them. The sound of heavy footsteps on the porch outside.
Conner froze. He had left the cellar door open. Whoever was upstairs would know something was wrong. He didn’t have much time to react.
Conner held his finger to his lips and motioned for the girls to move back to the corner of the cellar, behind the stairs. Conner moved back as well. He slid the gun from his jacket and flipped off the flashlight.
Upstairs the door squeaked open. Through the cracks between the floorboards, Conner could see a light sweep across the room upstairs. Footsteps entered the cabin and moved slowly across the room. The floorboards bowed and groaned with each step.
Conner pressed the girls farther into the corner. He could hear their breathing grow quick and shallow. He had to keep them quiet.
The footsteps halted at the top of the steps. A light shone down into the cellar. The figure stood at the top of the stairs. For several moments nothing happened. It felt like hours.
Then the stairs creaked. Conner could see a large, shadowy figure coming down.
He had only seconds to formulate a plan, but his mind was a pinball of fear. He couldn’t concentrate. He held out the gun in front of him but his hand trembled.
The figure reached the bottom of the stairs and Conner heard a high-pitched screech behind him. Katie pushed past Conner—the knife clutched in her quivering hand—and lunged toward the figure. He spun around, sweeping the light up in Conner’s eyes. Conner stepped backward, momentarily blinded. He heard a deep grunt and a stream of curses. Both girls were screaming now. He pointed the gun but couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t hit either of the girls.
Conner glimpsed one of the girls fly across the cellar and land in a heap near the wall. The light flashed back into Conner’s face. He couldn’t wait. He had to act. He squeezed the trigger.
Nothing happened.
Conner didn’t have time think. Something hard smashed into his jaw. His head snapped to the side. Jolts of pain streaked through his neck and down his spine. He could feel himself falling. His head slammed against the cold, hard concrete. His mind reeled and he knew he was losing consciousness.
But with his fading thoughts came a moment of clarity. He had made a fatal mistake and he knew what it was.
He had forgotten to take the safety off.
66
MITCH NOW FOUND HIMSELF ALONE on the ledge. The dark clouds seemed to loom ever closer. Sporadic flashes of multicolored lightning illuminated the mountains and the surrounding desert. There was no sign of Howard and no sign of his vast army of Reapers on the desert floor. Even the wind had died away.
Mitch looked down at the object in his hand. It was the stump of blue chalk. Nathan had given it to him just before his final transformation.
Mitch suddenly felt an almost overwhelming sense of loneliness standing there. As if he were the only man in the entire universe. Nathan’s words came back to him.
“Remember… you’re not alone.”
But it gave him little comfort. Mitch’s anger was still roiling inside him. He couldn’t help feeling betrayed. That Nathan had kept his true identity hidden this whole time. And that he was the real reason Mitch was here in the first place.
And yet Nathan had warned him about Howard. He had saved Mitch from the Keeper. Twice. Nathan had shown him the incredible vision at the top of the mountain and had explained all of what was going on—because he had been experiencing it too. The guy had left a wife and three children behind.
Mitch shuddered. He had nowhere to go but onward. Into the cave.
He knelt down to scrawl a heavy chalk line across the entrance to the cave, then stepped back. In moments, it began to glow and smolder. A soft blue light filled the entrance completely. He figured if and when the Reapers returned, this should keep them out at least for a while. Then Mitch turned and headed deeper into the cave.
His journey was slow in the darkness. He kept one hand against the cool rock wall and the other in front of him. At one point his foot kicked a rock and he suddenly got an idea.
He bent down to pick it up and felt that it was roughly the size of a softball. He took out the chalk again and scrawled several lines on one side. In moments it began to give off a dim glow. It wasn’t much, but it lit the tunnel for two or three yards ahead of him. Enough to see his immediate surroundings anyway.
Now holding the rock aloft, Mitch was able to move a little more quickly through the passage. Nathan had not indicated how long it was or if it split into other tunnels along the way. If that happened, Mitch would have no clue which way to take. But he told himself there was no use worrying about things that hadn’t happened yet.
After what felt like half an hour, the tunnel opened quickly into what Mitch guessed was a large cavern. He couldn’t see the sides or the ceiling, if there was one. But the ground seemed to twist and turn between boulders and outcroppings, providing a sort of winding path for Mitch to follow. All he could hear was his own breathing and footsteps echoing back off the distant walls. He could only guess at how large the cavern was.
Then suddenly a light appeared up ahead. It was dim but distinct, and Mitch paused for a moment to decide whether he should avoid it or head toward it. Nathan had instructed him not to be afraid. But then again, Mitch had good reason to doubt how trustworthy the guy really was. In the end, Mitch decided to continue toward the light. If it was something dangerous, he’d know soon enough.
After several more minutes of walking through the dark, Mitch climbed a steep rise and found himself standing on a wide, level patch of ground, staring at something that—despite all the bizarre things he’d seen over the last five years—he was still amazed to find inside a cave.
It appeared to be a room. A dining room to be exact. With hardwood floors and a long, polished table. And several chairs parked around it. All of this stood on an ornate area rug with tan and crimson designs embroidered on it. There were plaster and paneled walls that faded off into darkness and stone. Mitch’s lips tightened against his teeth.
It was the dining room in his father’s house.
Mitch stepped onto the wooden floor. It creaked beneath his weight like the dining room floor back home. In the corner stood the old grandfather clock his grandmother had brought from Germany. Its pendulum swung slow and methodically, ticking away the seconds. Mitch recalled so many times when that clock had been the only sound in the entire house. It was a chilling, disturbing memory from a childhood he wished he could forget.
On the far wall stood an arched entrance into the spacious formal living room. And beyond that lay the expansive foyer with the winding staircase. Mitch could see the stairs from his position in the dining room.
His heart was pounding. Was this another illusion? Behind him was the cold darkness of the cavern, but here before him stood a replica of his father’s house. Mitch moved into the living room. Then looked back from where he’d come. The dining room was completely enclosed. He could see no evidence of the cave beyond it. The bay windows opened to bright daylight. The sun was shining outside.
Mitch closed his eyes. Every scent, every sound told him this was his father’s house, yet he knew—he kept telling himself—this was an illusion. Or… what had Nathan said? This place could take your memories and give them form. Even Howard had said as much.
He stood now in the foyer and saw the door to his father’s study closed. A strip of daylight shone beneath the door. The floor creaked as a shadow passed by, momentarily blocking the light.
Mitch’s mouth went dry. His hands grew cold and his heart thudded harder in his chest. Forcing his le
gs to move, Mitch crossed the foyer, turned the knob, and opened the door.
67
DEVON APPROACHED the Hayden house, clutching the gun in sweaty palms under his sweatshirt. Pale Man followed at his shoulder. The house was huge and the front entrance was all lit up.
“Yo, man, this is crazy,” Devon said. “Look how bright that is.”
“Go around back, yo.” Pale Man shoved him forward. “Do I have to do all your thinking for you?”
Devon swore as he crouched behind a row of bushes lining the front yard. “Man, why do I got to kill these people? They didn’t do nothing to me.”
Pale Man sighed and rubbed his yellow eyes. “See, when you keep using double negatives like that, it makes you sound like an illiterate thug. ‘Didn’t do nothing’ means they did in fact do something. Good communication skills are vital if one wishes to become successful in any arena of life.”
“Whatever. I still don’t got no reason to kill them.” Devon was fed up with Pale Man’s sarcasm, but for now he couldn’t do anything about it.
“How’s this for a reason: If you don’t, Mr. Karenga will kill you. And I can guarantee he won’t be the least bit conflicted about it.”
Devon was sick inside. He’d done a lot in his few years working for Karenga, but he had never actually killed anyone before. That was a whole new level of crime. Underage or not, he’d be sent up with the big boys on this one.
He stared at the house. His breathing grew more rapid. “I… I don’t know if I can go through with this.”
Pale Man’s eyes flared bright and he sank his hand into Devon’s chest, piercing both flesh and ribs. His voice growled deep and full. “You will do what I tell you to do. You’ll kill who I tell you to kill or I’ll turn you back over to Karenga so fast, your head will spin.”
Devon convulsed, his eyes wide. He struggled for breath but couldn’t suck any air into his lungs. Darkness crowded in around the corners of his vision. Endless, terrifying darkness.
Pale Man released his grip and his eyes dimmed to their pale yellow hue. “I think I’ve made my point, yes?”
