by Roger Hayden
***
Miriam and the girls arrived back on the scene to find it swarming with police cars and paramedics. Two helicopters flew overhead, circling above the auto salvage yard. Miriam rushed to the first ambulance she saw, and paramedics quickly took over, bringing gurneys, talking to the girls and reassuring them that they would soon be going home to be with their parents. But first, a short trip for a little checkup. The girls were reluctant to separate from her, but Miriam managed to convince them that she would be along in just a few minutes. The paramedics strapped them down, lifted the gurneys into the vehicle, and promised Emily and Jenny a ride like no other they had ever had, with lights whirling and sirens blasting. Even Jenny seemed to manage a faint smile.
“I’ll be right back,” Miriam said, brushing back Emily’s hair. She then turned to Jenny. “Then we’ll all ride to the hospital together.”
The paramedics took over from there as they set both girls down and began measuring their vital signs. Miriam saw them loading O’Leary into another ambulance as she rushed over. Lou stood by, overwhelmed by all the activity. O’Leary took one look at her dirtied face, dried with tears, and couldn’t resist a mild jab.
“What the hell happened to you?” he said, trying to fight the pain of his gunshot wounds. They had an IV hooked into his arm and were frantically cleaning and dressing his leg.
“I found her,” Miriam said with a breath of relief.
Both O’Leary and Lou looked stunned.
“The girl?” Lou said.
“Emily Beckett and Jenny Dawson. I found them both.”
A smile spread across O’Leary’s face. Lou clutched his side and coughed.
“The Dawson girl too?” he said. “I can’t believe it! Where?”
Exhausted, Miriam pointed to the forest, where for the first time she noticed the sign on the fence that claimed the land as being owned by Anderson Properties.
“They had them in a bunker. They were the only ones I could find. Gowdy said the others were killed.”
“Gowdy?” O’Leary said, between heavy breaths. “Where is he?”
“Still back there. Shot him twice in the leg. I already pointed some officers in his direction.”
Lou’s eyes widened again. O’Leary tried to follow along the best he could despite his injuries.
“But I don’t understand,” Lou said. “Phil Anderson is the one you’re looking for. Not Gowdy.”
Miriam’s eyes narrowed. “You mean you haven’t got him yet?”
“He disappeared,” Lou said. “Vanished like a bat out of hell. They just raided the place, got everyone on site except Phil.”
“How?” Miriam shouted.
Lou backed up and held out an arm, trying to calm her. “We don’t know. He made us somehow. But this bunker. That changes everything!”
Miriam shook her head, feeling defeated.
Lou touched her shoulder. “Chin up there, Castillo. We got an APB on him. He won’t get far.”
Miriam looked to the ambulance where Emily and Jenny were being attended to. “We need to contact their parents.”
“Already on it,” Lou said.
“Get me out of here,” O’Leary said, in pain, from the ambulance. Miriam and Lou turned and waved as the paramedics shut the door.
“We’ll see you soon!” Miriam said. She then looked to Lou, her expression changed. “Find Phil Anderson. And let me know when you do.” With that, she walked away to the other ambulance and got in, taking Emily’s hand.
Its sirens and lights went on as the ambulance roared down the road, away from Anderson country and back to civilization. Three combined county police departments had descended on the area in the largest case in Palm Dale’s history. The bunker, apparently, was just the tip of the iceberg.
Miriam stayed with Emily and Jenny at the hospital until their parents arrived. Both the Beckett and Dawson families had come alive with joyous rapture upon learning that their daughters were alive. It was the most incredible thing Miriam had ever seen. The parents called her a hero, a godsend, but she didn’t want any of it. The girls were alive, and that was all that mattered. She stayed with both families overnight at the hospital, laughing and talking as both children recovered throughout the night. Eventually, however, it would be time to go home.
In all of the commotion, she had forgotten to even call home. But she was certain Freddy could hold things down in her absence. The next morning, Lou himself offered her a ride back home. They took the long drive as she repeatedly tried calling Freddy and Ana. It was a weekday. Ana was at school and Freddy was probably asleep in front of the television—a little part of why they had split in the first place. She finally arrived home and found both her car and Freddy’s still in the driveway.
“Need me to come in with you?” Lou asked.
Miriam looked at him with tired eyes and smiled. “No thanks. I’ll be fine. Thanks for the ride.”
Just as she opened the door, Lou stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, calling her back.
“You know, O’Leary was right about you. You’re a hell of an asset to law enforcement.”
Miriam waved him off. “I’m just glad we were able to find Emily in time.”
Lou looked at her and smiled. “You did well, Sergeant Castillo. We’re all proud of you.”
Blushing, she said no more and got out of the car. She walked to the front door, purse in hand, gym bag over her shoulder, and waved to Lou as he backed out and drove away. It was still early.
Only a little after eleven in the morning, and she figured she would spend the rest of the day in bed. Who knew? Maybe she could convince Freddy to fix her something to eat. It would take at least a good hour to tell him the whole story. That much alone was worth a meal, she thought.
She turned the key and entered her house. The television was on in the living room, with ongoing coverage of the Anderson bust. The news had already traveled to her neck of the woods.
“Freddy?” she called out. She set her bag down and placed her purse on a nearby nightstand. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him sitting at the kitchen table with his back turned toward her.
“Freddy? Hello?” She walked over to him with a smile and then froze when she saw his face staring down, his eyes still as glass with dilated, lifeless pupils. A large gash ran across his throat from one end to the other. Blood spatter ran down his white T-shirt.
She jumped back in shock as fear gripped her. She screamed in terror. There was no way to comprehend what had happened. Her body shook, and she was losing control. Then her eyes caught a note waiting for her on the table, written in crayon:
You took my playmates, Miriam. Now you and your daughter are all I have left to play with. Love Phyllis.
