“Shut up and let me finish!” Bart snapped. “We’ve found another way out, one the women don’t know about. There’s a network of caves under the east face of the wall. The entrance is down inside a depression where the ground collapsed, and we can only get out there with a four wheel drive vehicle or on foot. From there it’s just a matter of getting through the caves. It’s not an easy path, and there’s some climbing involved, but you look like you’re in good shape. And there should be enough of us to make it.”
“Why would it take the four of us?”
“I like to have at least three to make it through the caves. It’s safer. That way after you get out, the three of us can make it back safely. Unfortunately, we’ll have to leave the Jeep out there and hope it doesn’t get spotted. We usually like to have one or two extra people to drive it out and come back after a few hours.”
“Do you have all the climbing equipment?”
Bart lifted the flashlight and aimed it down the far wall. A tarp-covered vehicle parked against the wall. Heavy all-terrain tires peeked out from the fringe of the tarp. “Rope and stuff is all inside.”
“The witches didn’t confiscate it?”
“No. There’s some telephone and electric lines coming down the cliff face, and we use the equipment to get to them if a line goes down. Far as they know, that’s all it’s for.” Bart killed the flashlight and they waited in silence.
Tim rested his head on his knees, wondering how this town got by without outside interference. Alexandra told him about the magic that prevented Rapture from being spotted from the air, but surely that crazy old man at the service station he ran into so long ago could not keep everybody out of the city. And what of cartographers? Rapture had to make it onto a map somewhere. A road atlas, a terrain map, even a military map. Somebody had to know it was here.
And what about the government? Rapture did not appear to have a mayor, or a city hall, or anything along that line. What about senators and representatives on the campaign trail? Not to mention the presidential elections…He remembered the post office downtown, so surely there had to be mail. Did UPS or FedEx come into the valley, too?
Scientists would undoubtedly be interested in the nature of Rapture’s unique weather. Enough rain to support grass, trees, and crops, in the middle of the desert. Hell, it was just like the weather back home in Chicago, except it did not get cold enough for snow. No real scientist would accept magic as an explanation, shrug his shoulders, and leave.
And how did the place survive economically? Sure, they have restaurants and stores downtown. But no way everything they sold could be made in town. And if it did come from out of town, if Rapture had her own import/export process, that meant trucks or delivery vehicles of some sort had to come and go.
And if a delivery truck could make it out of town…
“What about delivery trucks?” Tim asked suddenly.
“What are you talking about?”
“I was just thinking Rapture gets food and supplies and so forth from somewhere. How are they coming in?”
“I see what you’re getting at. There are delivery vehicles coming and going so why not hitch a ride out, am I right? Well, there are a few problems with that scenario.”
Already, Tim felt his rising hopes plummet and shatter.
“First, the trucks come and go about once a month, and they were just here last week. So, if you can hold out three more weeks, then you’re on your own. There’s no way I’d be able to do it. Second, there are usually a lot of the women around when the trucks are unloading. I wouldn’t recommend trying to sneak by. Finally, it’s been tried before. They’ll be watching for you.”
“What about the drivers? Don’t they ever tell anyone else what’s going on?”
“These women are a lot smarter than you’re giving them credit for. The drivers rarely get out of their cabs. I’ve seen one or two of them while they’ve been in town. They act like robots, like they’ve been hypnotized or something. Besides, who would believe their story anyway?”
Tim considered that. Mr. President, a coven of witches has taken over an entire town in the middle of the desert and uses magic to control their men and to control the weather. A lot of people have been killed, and the only safe way out is through a secret network of caves beneath the cliffs.
Yeah, that did sound a little outrageous.
Kind of like a bad B-movie.
The crunch of footsteps approaching across the gravel parking lot broke his concentration. He heard a metallic scrape and click, and guessed it had to be Bart jacking the first round into the chamber of his pistol. The footsteps stopped at the door, and a key slid into and disengaged the lock. Tim craned his head to see the figure in the door while the moonlight still illuminated his or her features.
“Bart? Are you in here?” a male voice whispered.
“Ed. Get in here and close the door.”
Ed did as he was told, and Bart flashed the light across his face. He appeared to be roughly Bart’s age, and a little taller and heavier than Tim. He wore jeans and a dark, hooded sweatshirt. “Sorry I took so long. I left my car up the street and came the rest of the way on foot.”
“Good thinking. Come on, let’s uncover the Jeep,” Bart told them. “Steve’s on his way over. It’s just going to be the four of us. Oh, that reminds me. Ed, this is Tim.”
The two shook hands. “Sorry we had to meet under these circumstances,” Ed said grimly.
“Believe me, so am I,” Tim replied. “I appreciate what you guys are doing, by the way.”
“Hell,” Ed said, his grin barely visible in the dim wash of the flashlight. “I’m in it for the thrill. In fact, my wife is probably out there helping track you down and kissing ass. Or whatever else it is those women kiss!” He laughed at his own joke.
“Will you keep down!” Bart hissed. “This isn’t the time or the place for that shit! Now help me out with this tarp!”
“Zieg heil,” Ed muttered, sharing a look with Tim. He and Tim each took a corner of the tarp and helped lift it off the vehicle.
The Jeep definitely saw a lot of use. It looked fairly old, and mud and rust spotted it from the wheels to the roll bar. Purely functional, it had no carpeting, sparse upholstery on the seats, and somebody replaced the radio with a bare piece of dashboard plastic. They kept the climbing equipment tucked neatly in a wooden crate behind the back seat.
It did not take much longer for Steve to arrive, and once more Bart led a brief introduction. Though a younger man, probably twenty or twenty-one, he was tall and muscular. “I watched you get away from the women at my farm,” Steve said, pushing a long lock of brown hair out of his face. “You shot one of them in the leg.”
“You saw all that?” Working on the farm probably explained his size.
“Yeah, from my room in the farmhouse. I help take care of the place. When you shot her and ran, I cheered for you. It was too bad you got caught. Oh well! We’ll get you out of here soon enough!” He clapped Tim painfully hard on the shoulder.
Strange, Tim thought, that these guys did not seem to share Bart’s urgency with getting him out of here. Of course, they probably were not in as direct danger as Bart. He wondered if the women actually showed up at Bart’s door yet and, if so, how they handled it. Surely they would be suspicious if they showed up and Bart was not there.
Bart made sure the parking lot and drive were both clear, then unlocked and opened the large door at the front of the building. They started the Jeep and idled out to the street, each man keeping a watchful eye in every direction.
* * *
Jack sat at the kitchen table with his head hung to his chest in a feigned pout, his injured leg propped up on another chair. He called Bart right after his mother got off the other extension with Alexandra, and they nearly caught him, too. He knew he was in big trouble, and that he probably could not protect Bart and the stranger much longer, but he would do his best. Inside he felt angry, very angry with himself for falling and getti
ng the stranger into trouble, but on the outside he only showed fear and shame.
His mother got suspicious the moment she saw him sitting at the couch with his foot elevated and iced. She told him he was “just a little man” and as such was not smart enough to administer even simple first aid like that. When he paused in his answers, she suspected it was the stranger, and became all the more suspicious when he vehemently tried to deny it. She demanded to know where the stranger went, and he claimed he did not know, but she did not believe him. “Just you wait little man,” she said as she went for the phone. “Alexandra will know how to get the truth out of your stupid little head.”
She sat across the table from him now, glaring, arms crossed, one leg bouncing impatiently across the opposite knee. “Don’t think sitting there and crying is going to make things any easier on you. The only way you’re getting out of this is to tell us where he went.”
“I’m not crying!” Jack stated firmly. His Daddy would have been proud of him for being a man in the face of the wicked women.
“You may be soon, child. You may be soon.”
The doorbell rang then, and Mother was out of her chair and down the hall faster than Jack ever saw her move. “Good evening, Alexandra,” she said, opening the door. “My son is ready for you in the kitchen.”
He heard no other words, only footsteps in the hall. He recognized Alexandra immediately by her black hair. Following her into the kitchen came her buddies, Gretchen and the twins, Genevieve and Cassandra. Mother walked behind them, head bowed in respect, though she glared at Jack triumphantly.
“Hello Jack,” Alexandra said sweetly. She slid carefully into her chair, aided somewhat by Mother, and leaned back to allow for her protruding belly. Her companions leaned against the door and wall.
“Ma’am,” he replied respectfully, his eyes locked on the tabletop once more.
“Your mother tells me you had a visitor. A Good Samaritan of sorts.”
“Maybe,” he replied simply.
“You answer her correctly!” Mother shouted suddenly. Alexandra held up a hand, silencing her. Mother took a step back and Jack flashed her a smug smile. She narrowed her eyes at him, the only threatening gesture she could be make without getting caught.
“Maybe,” Alexandra repeated. “She says that you hurt your ankle. Is this it?” She leaned forward and touched his sprain. He winced. “Yes, I guess it is. Now, did somebody help you when you fell off the ladder or not?”
Jack thought back to the conversations he had with Daddy and Bart. They told him to always tell the women what they wanted to hear so he did not get hurt. They were adults, and knew how to handle the witches’ questions, but Jack was just a boy and had to watch out for himself. He had a long time to live yet, and they wanted him to enjoy all the time he could when they got out of Rapture.
“Answer me, boy,” Alexandra said, her voice firm.
“Yes,” he said, before he thought about it further. But is it really the right thing to do? he asked himself.
“Good. Was it the stranger?”
He already told Mother it was. What more harm would that do? “Yes.” He thought harder about talking to Daddy and Bart that time. With Daddy dead, that made him the man of the house. If he was a man, he was an adult, and could handle their questions any way he wanted.
“Where did the stranger go?” she asked him.
“I don’t know,” he replied simply.
“I think you’re lying.”
“And I think you’re a bitch!” he spat, remembering the word Daddy always used when talking about the women. Mother gasped and her eyes went wide. She looked scared. He suddenly felt proud that he used the right word. He felt like a man.
Alexandra and her friends, however, were not affected. “What a rude little boy you’ve raised, Katherine,” Alexandra said coldly. Mother’s eyes began to water.
“He’s got too much of his father in him,” Mother replied.
“You’ll have to break him of that.”
“Oh, I will,” Mother said, glaring hard at Jack.
“Now, I’ll ask you again, Jack. Where did the stranger go?”
“I don’t know where he went!” he said boldly. “And even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you, because Tim is my friend!”
Alexandra raised an eyebrow. “Tim. So you know his name, but don’t know where he went?”
Jack’s heart skipped. He messed up, and he knew it. “You told me his name.”
“No, Jack. I didn’t. I think it’s time I taught you a lesson. When you lie, it hurts.” She reached over and grabbed his ankle firmly, causing him to cry out in pain. “You see how that works?”
Jack nodded, fighting back tears.
“Now, where did Tim go?”
“I don’t know.” Again, she grabbed and twisted his ankle, and he screamed. The tears started to come, there was no more controlling them.
“Where, Jack?”
He sniffled, looking from Alexandra to his Mother. She wore a neutral expression, as if she did not care what happened to her son. He remembered the way she held him when he was very young, and the way she smiled at him and played with him. He missed those days, and the tears came faster for it. “Don’t you love me anymore?” he asked her.
She turned her back on him.
He sobbed and wiped tears from his eyes with the back of his hand.
“I’m only going to ask you one more time, boy. Where did Timothy Wilder go when he left this house?” Her voice rose as she completed her sentence, until she shouted at the end. Her hand still rested firmly on Jack’s ankle.
Jack’s pride with his previous answers rapidly diminished. He knew, he just knew Daddy and Bart would be ashamed of him. He kept crying.
Alexandra sighed. “I’m growing impatient with you, Jack. I need an answer.”
“B-b-bart’s house,” he stammered. “He went to Bart’s house.”
Alexandra smiled wickedly. “There, now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
All of the shame Jack felt suddenly turned to rage. These were the women that made Daddy die, and now they were going to kill Bart and Tim. “Fuck you, you bitch!” He shouted the words with such force that flecks of spit and snot flew across the table at her.
Her eyes went cold with fury. “Grab him,” Alexandra said. The twins pounced on Jack in an instant. He squealed as they pulled him out of his chair by his wrists. “We’ll be taking your boy, Katherine. He needs to learn a lesson.”
Mother looked over at her son for a moment, then her gaze went to the floor. “Yes, ma’am. I am sorry for his disobedience.”
“We’ll soon cure him of that.” She rose and followed Gretchen to the front door. The twins dragged Jack, kicking and screaming, behind them.
“Please!” Jack wailed. “Don’t let them take me, Mommy! Don’t let them kill me!”
Mother watched him go, meeting his gaze for a moment. He tried desperately to grab onto something, but the twins only smacked his hands down. He kicked at them, and they shifted their grip so one held his legs and the other his arms. He thrashed desperately in their grip as they carried him out the door.
“Please Mommy nooo!” he cried as they slammed the front door shut.
Inside the house, the hallway walls shook with the force of the slamming door. Jack could not see his Mother burst into tears over the kitchen sink.
Chapter Fourteen
The four men made it to the edge of town without incident, and Bart steered his way over the rough, grassy terrain towards the cliffs. The trees offered cover from town, so nobody would see their headlights, but Tim could not help wondering if Sebastian watched them from some hidden vantage point. The man—satyr, he kept telling himself—seemed to live out in the forest. Maybe Sebastian even lived in a separate cave on the cliff face.
Or maybe a different part of the same cave they would be making their way through…He decided he best not think about that possibility.
Once out of town, Bart asked Tim to expla
in Sebastian and the scene in the woods to the others. He did, answering a few questions and filling in a few vague details that he had not fully shared with Bart. He then went on to give them a brief synopsis of the several months he spent in Alexandra’s basement. They listened with relish to the part where he finally killed Marie, though the re-enactment in his mind nearly made him nauseous.
“Sounds like you had a rough time in Rapture. Except for when you were getting laid!” Ed laughed, making the others cringe nervously.
Bart reached over to the passenger seat and gave Ed a whack on the arm. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Ed’s our comic relief.”
Steve leaned over to Tim. “Defense mechanism,” he whispered.
They bounced on for another ten minutes, until Finally the grass and trees gave way to fifty yards of dry, dusty land that sloped down steadily to the face of the cliff. As the Jeep rocked and jounced its way down the slope, Tim saw why they needed a four-wheel drive vehicle to make it to the cave. Erosion chewed up the ground, leaving a fan of narrow rivulets from the edge of the slope to the cave entrance. The depression must be what told them a cave waited there in the first place, and Tim wondered both who else may be sharp enough to spot it and how much of the water still flowed in those caves.
Bart drove most of the way down the slope, stopping just a few yards from the bottom. He normally did not park that deep into the depression, but he wanted to keep the chances of detection down to a minimum. They moved swiftly, unpacking and separating the climbing gear and donning their harnesses. John and Bart dug away at the sand and dirt at the very edge of the wall, enough to uncover a long plank. They removed four narrow planks total, stacking them on the ground and kicking dirt onto them to camouflage them a bit.
The hole they revealed dropped straight down for a couple feet, its bottom hardly visible in the wash of the headlights. The true entrance of the cave sloped away into the cliff face at a shallow angle. Ed climbed down first, the others waiting while he tied their first safety line to a ring anchored to the cliff wall.
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