“Morning, ladies,” Ed said confidently. “Something I can do for you?” A cold sweat broke out on his flesh when he recognized Gretchen and the twins. When these three showed up, it meant real trouble. It would take some smooth talking to get out of this one. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Steve fidgeting nervously. He hoped to God that the kid would not blow it.
“Morning,” Gretchen replied.
He waited a few moments, but the women neither moved nor spoke. If they meant to intimidate him, it worked. He steadfastly refused to let it show. “Uh, something I can do for you?”
“Doubtful,” one of the other women said caustically. Ed recognized her as Hera, the owner of the diner.
Gretchen cut him off before he could attempt a reply. “What were you doing out at this time of the morning?” she demanded.
“Checking on a bad transformer out on the cliff wall,” he replied easily. “Had to make a few repairs before it blew completely.”
“In the middle of the morning?”
Ed shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah. We wanted to hit it before the sun came up and it got too hot.”
“It’s still pretty cool this time of year.”
“Yeah, but when you’re playing with heavy equipment that you have to climb a cliff face to get to in the first place, you work up quite a sweat.” Fortunately he worked up quite a sweat climbing through the caves and it showed, supporting his lie.
“Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m not patronizing anyone. I’m telling you what you wanted to hear.”
“What we wanted to hear, or what we wanted to know?”
Ed sighed and threw up his arms. “Look, I’m not looking for trouble, here. I just want to go home and get some rest.”
“I think you’re full of shit.”
“Well, I’m telling you the truth.”
“Where’s Bart Josephsen?”
Again, Ed shrugged. He hoped he did not come off to them as arrogant or aloof. While he may really be full of shit, he did not want to push it and get caught.
“You haven’t seen him at all?” she asked, her tone sharpened by disbelief.
“No, ma’am. He was supposed to meet us here at two o’clock. He never showed. We gave him until two thirty and then left without him.”
“So you’re saying you were out climbing the rock face all morning?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Someone go get the climbing gear out of the Jeep. Let’s have a look for ourselves.”
One of the other women trotted into the small building. He heard the rustle as she lifted the tarp from the Jeep and a clank as she started digging in the back.
“Want to change your story? Last chance before we bust you.”
“No, ma’am.”
The errand-woman returned, carrying a heavy burden of rope and climbing gear. She dropped it in a heap at Gretchen’s feet. The twins bent to pick through it while Gretchen continued to fix Ed with an intimidating stare.
He met her gaze and held it, but only with great effort. He did not think he would get caught, but he started to worry more and more about the outcome of this little encounter. Steve continued to fidget nervously at his side.
“Some of them are a bit damp, and there’s rock dust on some of this other stuff. It looks like he really was climbing somewhere,” Cassandra told the group.
Gretchen did not break her stare. Ed swallowed and held his breath. For a second, he thought the woman would simply choose not to believe him anyway and feed him to the rest of these women. Everyone knew that happened several times in the past in this town.
“Very well,” Gretchen said then. Suddenly, she took a swift step and practically stood on Steve’s toes, her round face just a few inches from his chest as she stared up at him. “What do you think?” she shouted.
Steve took an involuntary step back, stumbled, and fell into the wall. He slid down to a sitting position. “Yes! He’s telling the truth!” he cried before she could come closer.
She crouched down in front of him, lowering her head to stare into his eyes. “You look scared and nervous. Are you lying to me?” she demanded harshly.
“No!”
“Then what are you afraid of?”
Ed suddenly feared the young man would blow it. He needed to draw attention back his way, and fast. “Probably your fat face,” he said with a scowl.
Most of the women gasped, and Gretchen looked up at him through eyes narrowed by anger. He suddenly regretted saying anything, even if it was for the kid’s sake. “What did you just say?” she hissed.
“You heard me,” he muttered.
“You, beat it,” she said to Steve. She did not look at him, but nodded her head to the left. Steve rose and stepped between two of the women, then broke into a run. He made it halfway up the block before Gretchen stood and stared Ed down yet again. He suddenly wondered how many minutes remained of his life.
“Alexandra wants to see you. Otherwise I’d kill you where you stand.”
He felt a brief surge of relief at the latter part of her statement, but then the first sentence sunk in. His knees threatened to give out on him, and more sweat broke out on his brow. If Alexandra wanted to see him bad enough that her minions hesitated to kill, hurt, humiliate, or otherwise inflict some sort of pain upon him, he was in deep trouble indeed.
Gretchen turned and walked over toward the Camaro. “Bring him. In a separate car. I don’t want to be tempted.”
* * *
Alexandra, laying on her side and half-asleep, heard the two cars pull into the driveway, followed by a number of car doors opening and closing. She sat up, fully alert now as the shadows passed across her front windows. The doorbell chimed softly.
She realized as she rose that she still wore her nightgown and probably did not look the least bit intimidating. Of course, she thought, how intimidating could a pregnant woman look, no matter how she dressed? Beyond that, all that fit her these days were her sweatpants and a few of her old maternity blouses. At least she looked fairly attractive in her nightgown.
Rather than going to the door, she went into the kitchen and took a seat at one end of the table, her back to the window. “Come in,” she called.
The door opened, and a moment later Gretchen appeared in the archway, followed by the twins. The twins held a gray-haired man between them, though it appeared he came along willfully. His expression made it clear he was not happy but he was cooperating.
“Ed, isn’t it?” Alexandra asked politely. “Have a seat.” She motioned toward the chair opposite her.
The twins relinquished their hold on his arms, and he pulled them away roughly. He sat, pulled the chair up to the table, and folded his hands on the surface. “Morning, ma’am,” he said, obviously trying hard to be cordial.
Gretchen took a seat at Alexandra’s right hand, and Hera sat at her left. The twins stood behind Ed, and two more women, the names of whom Alexandra barely remembered, stayed in the living room.
“Well?” Alexandra asked Gretchen. The redhead briefly outlined the story Ed told her at the water works. “So, you haven’t seen Bart Josephsen or Tim Wilder?” she asked him.
“No, ma’am. Bart was supposed to meet us, but he never showed. And I can’t rightly say I know anybody named Wilder.”
“What would you say if I told you Mister Josephsen has gotten himself into a good deal of trouble?”
He suddenly took a deep breath, then expelled it heavily. “Look, like I told these ladies back when they picked me up, I just want to get home and get to bed. I’m sure you already know that Bart and I are good friends, back to the days when all the violence was still going on. But things have settled down and we’re getting too old for that cowboys and Indians bullshit. If Bart has done something stupid, then I’d hate to see him get hurt. However, that’s obviously none of my God damned business. So, if we can just get this kangaroo court trial over with, I’d like to go home.”
The women all stared angrily at Ed,
but Alexandra smiled. Ed was not a stupid man. He knew he was in trouble, but he would stick to his story whether or not it was really the truth, whatever the consequences. She was tired as well, and there was no sense wasting time.
“Well, Ed,” she began. “It’s obvious to me that no matter what we do, you’re going to stick with your story. However, that’s not the only reason you’re here. Do you like torturing smaller animals?”
His eyes went wide for a second, but he quickly recovered. “What do you mean?”
Her smile broadened. He did know what she was talking about, and suddenly it scared him. “You killed a cat out on the street. A tabby named Whiskers that belonged to a young girl.”
“How the Hell do you know all that?” Again, he demonstrated his intelligence by not pretending to deny it. “Are you Doctor Doolittle or something?”
“I’m surprised you don’t know about our association with the animals. They play a much larger role in the world than you will ever know. Whiskers was just doing her part when you saw fit to kill her.”
Ed sighed. “I didn’t mean to kill anything. I just meant to scare ’em away.”
“Of course you did, dear.” She held up a hand and made a clutching gesture.
A sharp pain seized Ed’s chest and he grabbed at the front of his shirt. He found he could not draw breath, no matter how hard he tried. He looked up at her, tried to beg or plead, but could not speak. His eyes bulged, his face reddened, and sweat started trickling from his brow. She only stared at him coldly, maintaining the gesture and whispering softly.
Ed stood abruptly, pushing up off the table and sending the chair falling back behind him. The twins hopped clear of the chair. Fearing he would make a move for Alexandra, Hera and Gretchen leapt from their chairs and seized his arms. Gretchen twisted his arm back viciously, doubling him over. His forehead bounced roughly off the tabletop.
Alexandra made one last gesture, a swift pulling motion, and ceased her incantation. By that point the damage was already done. Ed gasped, spat and struggled for a few more seconds, then went limp. He slumped on the table with his legs dangling over the side.
“Get him out of here,” Alexandra said. “Put him in the fields.”
“Did you really know that cat’s name?” Gretchen asked, allowing Hera and the twins to drag the body out of the room.
“No. I figured he would be less likely to deny anything. I can tell you, though, I felt that cat die. I made sure he died the same way.”
Gretchen nodded somberly. Ed had been a friend of her husband’s, and one of the men that convinced him to try to escape after he refused to fight. As he was partially responsible for her husband’s death, she felt no sorrow in seeing him dead. However, she wondered if death was a bit harsh of a penalty for killing a cat. Perhaps Alexandra had more in mind…
“It wasn’t just for the cat,” Alexandra said suddenly.
“What?” Gretchen asked, startled.
“It wasn’t just for the cat,” she repeated. “Don’t look so surprised. I read your expression, not your mind. He lied. None of these people would be up at two in the morning to climb a cliff. It would be too dangerous in the dark. He knew more than he was letting on, and I didn’t feel like wasting time torturing it out of him. Wilder will turn up sooner or later, and your friend Ed there will serve us better by making an example for the rest of the people in town. Tim and his new friend will have a rough time finding any help if the townspeople know they’re facing the death penalty. With any luck, somebody will just turn them in.” She fiddled with the fetish dangling around her neck, twirling the chain she had attached to it around her fingers.
“I like the way you think,” Gretchen said with a smile.
Alexandra waved the comment away. “Go home and get some rest. I’m going upstairs to slip into a coma. Do me a favor, though. Get some of the ladies to come by and stick around. Sebastian thinks they may try to come after me.”
“Do you think they would really be that stupid?”
“No, but we’re not taking chances. Remember, I may be carrying our future in my belly.”
Chapter Sixteen
Tim woke up the next morning with stiffness in his joints and the cold, hard floor pressing into his back. He turned on his flashlight before he stood, afraid he might bump his head on the ceiling. Bart lay curled up in one corner, snoring softly.
Tim stretched to work the kinks out of his muscles. His head and side ached. With luck, the others would bring aspirin with the food and other supplies. He carefully made his way back along the passage about twenty yards to a shallow pool of standing water. He eased himself down, laid on his stomach, and cupped his hands to scoop up some water. The first tentative taste was not bad, just a little gritty and acrid from the rock. He gulped down a few more mouthfuls, then splashed his face. Along the way back to his “bed” he found a steep side passage that he decided would make a suitable bathroom. He used it.
“Oh, there you are,” Bart said when Tim returned. “I was starting to wonder if I should come looking for you.” The older man stretched, yawned, and rubbed his lower back.
“Not the most comfortable accommodations, huh?”
“Definitely not. Now we just need a bathroom.”
“There’s a good side passage about twenty yards back. I just used it.”
Bart nodded. “Don’t suppose there’s any toilet paper?”
Tim chuckled. “Well, I suppose you could find a stalagmite.”
“Funny guy,” Bart said, stepping up into the opening. “Real funny guy.”
While Bart was gone, Tim figured his usual calisthenics routine would be his best chance at stretching out his stiff muscles. He turned off his flashlight to save the batteries, then dropped to the ground for stretches and push-ups. He tried some sit-ups, but the hard ground wreaked havoc on his back and tailbone and he gave up.
Some time later Bart returned, a strange expression on his face. He caught Tim’s smirk. “Don’t ask.”
“Hey, man. I wouldn’t think about it.”
“Uh-huh.”
“What time is it?”
Bart checked his watch. “Just about ten.”
“Not a bad nap. Especially considering the maid service around here.”
Bart shook his head. “You amaze me, kid.”
“How’s that?”
“How can you be so damned calm all the time? I mean, two days ago, you were living in prison. Yesterday you nearly get killed, only escaping by what amounts to blind luck. Then, just by luck again, you meet Jake and me. You have to start running again, only to find out they’ve got you by the balls. Literally!”
Tim shrugged. “I guess I’ve gotten used to it. It’s been a downhill ride ever since my wife threw me out. You kind of get…you know, calloused, to this sort of thing after a while.”
Bart harrumphed and shook his head. “Must be nice.”
They spent the next few hours talking about their next steps. Mostly they sat in darkness, but occasionally one or the other would flick on their flashlight for comfort. They plotted and planned, made a few assumptions and considerations, and ultimately designed a strategy whereby they could restore Rapture’s place in the normal scheme of small town America.
They mostly planned on action by their own hands. Bart did not feel Steve would be effective in some of the more dangerous situations. The boy had his uses, but his fear of the witches and their abilities had been ingrained in him by his mother for a long time. Ed would be reliable, and had few compunctions, but they wanted to keep his involvement to a minimum lest he draw attention to himself and be eliminated. Bart gave a few other names but, like Ed, their involvement would be limited to fringe activities. Most of them were still married and still lived with the enemy.
“How soon should we get started?” Tim asked.
“Immediately. The sooner we can get out of this damn cave the better.”
Tim got to his feet and rubbed his sore behind. “That’s for sure. Where the he
ll are those guys, anyway?”
“Good question.” Bart examined his watch under the light of the flashlight, which already started to run out of battery power. “It’s just about sundown. Maybe we’ll see them soon. Hopefully they didn’t get into any trouble.”
“Why don’t we head out to the entrance? I could use a breath of fresh air.”
Bart agreed, and the two men started making their way to the mouth of the cave. Gradual slopes smoothed by the flow of water comprised most of the passages on the valley side of the cliffs. Bart said if they went much further than where they spent the night, they would have had a more difficult time making their way back. There were some rather treacherous drops and steep climbs, likely made from earthquakes and tremors that cracked the rock beyond the caves carved by the water.
When they reached the entrance, Tim went to push the camouflaging boards away to climb out. A noise on the other side stopped him. He put a finger to his lips and motioned to Bart for silence. Bart turned off the flashlight. Seconds passed, but nothing happened.
“What is it?” Bart whispered.
As if in answer, the whisper of footsteps in the loose dirt outside came closer. They paused, possibly only a few feet from the entrance. Dust trickled down the narrow gap between two of the boards and dusted Tim’s nose. He squeezed it, desperately trying to prevent a sneeze. He wondered if Ed or Steve returned with food and supplies, but then wondered why they did not open the entrance. Whoever it was, they were still out there. But doing what?
Suddenly he realized the Jeep would have left tracks in the dirt, leading almost all the way down to the cave. Covering them up or smoothing them over would have taken too much time, and none of the equipment in the Jeep was suited for the task anyway. Somebody, possibly a hiker, possibly somebody actively searching for them, must have seen the tracks and come down to investigate.
Tim’s mind moved rapidly. He was unarmed, but if he moved fast enough he could drag whoever it was down into the cave as soon as they lifted the boards away. If he could get a good hold, Bart looked strong enough to subdue them. Having prevented his sneeze, Tim braced himself against one side of the rock wall and held out his arms, ready to reach through the opening. He held his breath, and for several seconds the pounding of his heart was the only sound he could hear.
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