by Jen Wright
As soon as she made it into the primary structure, Jo bent over, holding her knees and gasping. While she had not been conscious of holding her breath, she realized that she had instinctively stopped breathing the foul air.
Jo needed a plan. A way out. The gravity of Don's plans felt like an ominous cloud. She desperately wanted out of the cabin and away from him, away from the smell and image of Rick, and away from Don's sick and twisted mind.
"Don, look at me! Who am I?"
"You are Eve, born of man."
"What is my name?"
He sat down on a chair and scratched his face. He was holding the gun with his injured arm, resting it in his lap.
Jo saw her chance and lunged for the gun while pushing the chair over backwards. As he toppled, Don squeezed off a round. Jo felt a burning hot sensation starting in her left forearm and searing into her upper arm.
The recoil from the gunfire sent Don hurling the rest of the way backward in his chair. As he hit the ground, another shot rang out, ricocheting off the stone walls of the bunker. Jo and Frank both hit the floor. The bullet bounced several times before ending in a metallic thud.
When Jo looked up, Don was standing over her.
CHAPTER 39
Ree and Zoey had been sitting in reflective silence for nearly half an hour. Zoey was thinking about getting up to walk off some of her stress when two shots rang out. Boom…Boom.
Her heart pounded in her chest, and adrenalin surged in her limbs. She sprang up.
"Let's get them. Jo's in trouble."
Ree grabbed Zoey's arm and held her back until she looked at her.
"Get who? Slow down. What are you planning?"
"Sandy and Tanner. We have to go in there."
Ree relaxed and let go of her once she was assured she was not going to bust down the bunker door. Sandy and Tanner ran up to them.
"We have to do something," Zoey pleaded. "I need to get in there and talk to him. I'm a trained psychologist. I can work with him."
Tanner and Sandy seemed to be processing this information for a second before Tanner spoke up. "I'm the only armed person here, so it's going to be me going in first. Ree, can you trail behind for support? Let's hope we don't need you for medical help, but bring your bag. Sandy and Zoey, we need you on the tunnel door. If I give two radio clicks, come in from the front. If I give one, come in from the tunnel. Zoey, if we need you, I'll make several clicks. Sandy, don't let her move in unplanned." He looked around and waited for arguments.
Hearing none, he repeated, "One click — tunnel, two clicks — front door, several clicks — bring the shrink in for a consult."
Tanner crept up to the door with his gun drawn and out in front of him. Ree followed close behind. As soon as they were at the main entrance, Zoey made her way to the tunnel entrance to assume her post.
After only two minutes, she heard several clicks. She ran toward the cabin's front door. "Hold up!" Sandy trotted alongside, and they entered the cabin together.
The first thing Zoey saw when they entered was a gun held to Jo's head. Tanner and Don were in a standoff, and Jo's arm was a bloody mess. For an instant, the absurd thought passed through her mind, "And this woman expects me to move in with her?" Her heart sank into her stomach, and she couldn't think. Sandy placed a hand on Zoey's arm, whispering, "She needs you. You can do this."
Tanner broke the silence, "Frank, get out of here."
"No! He must repent. He must pay for his sins. I will bring him to repent."
In spite of her dire circumstances, Jo spoke up, "Rick is repenting right now down in the basement of this place. He's dead. Don brought him here to repent."
Zoey bolstered her resolve to talk him out of this. "Don, I'm Zoey, and I'm a psychologist. I can help you."
"No, you can't. You tie me up and shove pills down my throat. Pills that make me feel dead inside."
"I can give you some peace. You've been working very hard. You haven't slept for days. I can help you find some rest. Do you want to rest?"
Don appeared to be listening and then answered, "I must cleanse the world of sin. If I don't, the world will come to an end. Nuclear annihilation. The apocalypse. Our skin will melt from the impurity of so much sinning. Here, though, the end of the world can't get to me. The walls are too thick. I'm the chosen one. I must bring them to God."
"How many of them are there, Don?"
"I don't know…thousands, millions."
"How do you know you're the chosen one?" She was speaking in a gentle tone.
"Kill all of them. Bring them to God to repent."
"We're not sinners, Don. And you don't have to save the world. I can give you peace. You can rest then. It's time to rest. Inside, you're a good person. A loving and compassionate person, a kind person, a person of God." Zoey looked up to show him that they both had the same connection to God. "If you kill innocent people, that's wrong, isn't it?" He nodded yes.
The high-pitched sound of snowmobiles could be heard as they rushed toward the cabin. Great timing, Jo thought to herself. Don had a gun to her head, and Zoey was making some progress in de-escalating the situation and bringing him back to reality. Who knew what effect this would have on things?
Sandy backed out of the cabin, presumably to tell the snowmobilers to stand back and let things continue inside. Jo felt better about having more law enforcement and firepower on hand. Her arm ached so much she could feel each of her heartbeats as a pain-filled thud. The muscle had spasmed, and she couldn't move her hand at all. Bringing it up painfully, she tucked it into her collar for the support and the elevation.
Don was holding the gun with his wounded hand, and she worried about his ability to control his trigger finger. If he was in as much pain as she was, he had to be about to crack. On top of that, he had spent the last twelve-plus hours walking through the woods in blizzard conditions. She regretted her earlier attempt to overpower him, for obvious reasons.
"All people have sinned, Don. Even you. God is loving. God forgives." Zoey talked to him in low, comforting tones. "Tell me what you know about how God is loving."
Zoey had his full attention now. "Look, Karen, I know you want the best for me. I know you're right, I just can't go through all this again." Karen? Don must have been seeing a therapist at some point.
Off to her right, Jo noticed an officer entering the bunker. Maybe Sandy couldn't get him to back off. Then she heard the distinct sound of a rifle click. She didn't dare move while Don held the gun aimed at her head, but she assumed that the cavalry had arrived.
Zoey must have heard the sound, too.
Jo was stunned to see Zoey take a deliberate step forward, placing herself between the doorway and Don, shielding both Jo and Don from a sniper shot.
Jo had the sinking feeling that this standoff was going to end badly. She couldn't understand what Zoey was doing. Why had she come down into this hellhole, anyway? Why couldn't she have stayed outside until it was all over? Didn't she know that she was scaring Jo to death? Nothing Don had done so far had injected such terror in her as the step Zoey had just taken.
"Tell me what you're hearing, Don. Who is talking to you?"
Don didn't respond but seemed to be struggling with his own internal thought process. "God is loving. God is not hateful."
"Listen to me, Don. It's time to rest; time to be a good, loving person. Show us that you are, and let her go. I promise you will be able to rest. I can help you. I can help you with Jean. I promise to help you."
Don was loosening his grip on Jo and relaxing. He was giving in. He took the gun from Jo's head, and she walked out of his one-armed hold. She turned around so that her back wouldn't be toward him.
"That's right, Don. Everything will be all right now," Zoey said.
Then he turned the gun and placed it against his own head.
"No, Don. That's not the answer. I can help you rest. I can." Zoey's voice had lost its gentle tone.
BOOM! A thunderous explosion rocked the bunker.
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Jo found herself watching the back of Don's head burst apart, sending brain and blood splatter everywhere as he fell to the floor. She ran to Zoey and turned her away from the sight. They held onto each other. Ree pulled them out of the cabin and into the daylight. Sandy ran to Ree, and they all stood there watching the personnel who had been waiting outside rush into the dark hole that contained so much horror.
After a moment of shocked silence, Ree took charge of Jo's injured arm, yelling out, "Hey! She needs a ride to the hospital. We need a driver!"
CHAPTER 40
The ride in was painfully bumpy. Jo was able to focus enough to thank Zoey for her intervention with Don. She could tell Zoey was having a tough time, struggling with her conflicting feelings. On the one hand, Jo was alive. On the other, a severely mentally ill man was dead, and she had failed to prevent him from committing suicide.
With her good hand, Jo reached out for Zoey. "It's not your fault, you know."
"I know, but I'm going to replay this a thousand times in my head. Could I have said something else? Something that would have helped him see that he could be helped?" A tortured look crossed Zoey's pale features. Then she seemed to get herself under control and said to Jo, "I'm so glad you made it out of there." She hugged Jo fiercely.
Ree joined them for the sled ride to the Hammond and the ambulance ride to Duluth while Sandy retrieved their car and joined them at the hospital.
The doctors pulled a bullet from Jo's left bicep that had lodged in the bone. The bicep had to be reattached with screws following the removal. When she started to wake up, Jo was experiencing major pain even through serious painkillers. She could hear her friends playing poker on her bedside table. Zoey, Ree, Sandy, and Jo's good friends from the Valley — Kathy and Donna — were trying to subdue their usual hooting and hollering following each win.
When she came to enough, she stammered, "My deal; seven card no peek; aces, deuces, and one-eyed jacks wild." She could tell she was slurring her words, as it seemed to take an eternity to speak that one sentence. Zoey came rushing over and placed her hand on Jo's good arm, and her cheek against Jo's. "It's so good to see you awake."
"What does a girl have to do to get a decent cup of coffee around here?" Jo slurred out.
Zoey waved her hand at the group. "Can someone get my beautiful but seriously addicted girlfriend a cup of coffee?" Ree hopped up and left in search of a gourmet stand. Everyone else gathered around to behold the spectacle of her awakening.
"Some vacation," she teased.
"Trouble does have a way of finding you," offered her best friend and neighbor, Kathy. "Your dad has been calling. As soon as you're up to it, you better call him back. We told him you're fine, but he won't give up until he hears from you personally."
"Great. I hope he didn't flip out on you."
"Let's say he's really concerned."
"He must be insane with worry." She paused a little after the word insane. "He'll yell at me, tell me he loves me, and then try to get me to come to Florida to visit him." Jo was speaking a little more coherently now.
They all laughed at the same time.
"What? That is exactly what he said to you, isn't it?"
Kathy nodded and imitated him, "Well, tell her to stop chasing after those monsters. Good god. Let the police do that. What is she thinking? Well, tell her I love her, and that she's always welcome here. She can bring her friends, too."
Jo looked up at Zoey. "How are you?" She remembered Zoey's guilt over not being able to stop Don from killing himself.
"Better now. You know they said you would be fine, but until you came to, I couldn't help but worry. How much pain are you in?" Zoey gently pulled a lock of hair out of Jo's face.
"It hurts like crazy, but I think these drugs are pretty good." She looked down at her arm to see a large soft cast. Her hand was so swollen that the skin on her fingers looked tight. "I guess I won't be dealing anytime soon." She wiggled her fingers a tiny bit.
"We've been playing a hand for you. You're down two bucks," Sandy piped up.
"Oh thanks, guys, so if you hadn't played for me, I'd be even?"
Kathy edged her way into Jo's vision, "Hey, buddy."
"Hey. Good to see you. Is Donna here, too?"
"Over here."
"Hey. Thanks for coming. You're the best." Jo was clearly still a little loopy. Ree walked back in with gourmet coffees for everyone. Ree knew that the massive dose of anesthetic Jo had received for surgery would wreak havoc with her digestive system, so she'd brought her a latte and instructed her to take it easy.
"So, Doc, how am I?" Jo inquired.
"Well, given that the bullet was lodged in your bone, you're going to have a lot of pain. They successfully reattached your bicepial tendon and were able to clean up some of the other wreckage caused by the bullet. You'll need pain meds for a while. You'll have to do physical therapy to regain your mobility, but then you should be fine."
"One hundred percent?" Jo asked hopefully.
"If you behave yourself," replied Ree.
"How long will I be out of commission?"
"You won't be able to work or do much of anything for three weeks, then you can start PT. After you give PT an honest effort, I'd say you could be fully functional in a couple of months."
Jo nodded. "When can I get out of here?"
"Another day or two, depending."
"We'll stick around until you get out," Sandy said.
"Really, it's OK. You don't have to. We'll be back finishing up our vacation in a couple of days." That made the group laugh again.
"Let's see how you feel about that once your anesthesia fully wears off," Ree said, as she looked at Jo's heart and oxygen monitors.
"Wow, look at that view." Jo looked out at Lake Superior and the historic lift bridge.
"I pulled some strings," Ree said with a smile.
"How's Bruns?" Jo asked.
"He's hanging in. It was touch and go. Had to have surgery and a transfusion. One of his lungs collapsed. If he makes it out of recovery with no major infections, he should be fine."
Nate stuck his funny-looking head around the door jam. The sight of him did Jo's heart good. She loved how his small head didn't quite fit his big body.
"Hey," he said. "What did I tell you? You weren't supposed to hang out with paranoid psychos on your vacation."
"I couldn't help it, Nate. They find me, I swear!"
"Well, I'm glad you're going to be OK." Nate cleared his throat. "I guess it might be a little late now, but those serial numbers did come back as stolen merchandise. I guess Rick was fencing the stuff."
"Nate, your genius astounds me sometimes," Jo said. The mention of Rick's name hurt somewhere deeper than all of the physical pain she was feeling.
"Umm, are you up for more visitors? There's someone here who'd like to meet you. She says Rick never stopped talking about you, so she wanted to see you for herself."
"Katie?"
"Yep. She's got something on her mind." Nate motioned for the group of friends to clear the room and give Jo some space.
Katie had on jeans, a sweatshirt, and too much makeup. As soon as she plopped in her chair, she crossed her arms.
"So, you're Jo."
"Almost. I'm still pretty drowsy."
"Rick thought you walked on water. He wouldn't want you to feel bad about…you know…how things ended up."
"What really happened, Katie? Were you there?"
"Well, I didn't stay in the car when he went into the woods that last time. I wanted to hang out with him, you know? He was always so nice to me, and after the family I came from…anyway, he was good to me," she sniffed a little.
"He wouldn't let me get started on meth. I didn't really want to, either. I'd seen what it did to my brothers and their customers. Umm," she seemed suddenly aware that there was a police detective standing at the door.
"Anyway, we drank together and talked about getting a regular business going, like maybe an art store
or something. People are so crazy about art around here," Katie trailed off and seemed to be temporarily at a loss for words.
Jo was feeling sleepy again, but she tried to stay present. She sensed that this was a conversation that couldn't wait.
"Katie, you can still do that, you know. You can be an artist or own an art store. You've got your whole life to do what you want to do. Start where you are, and go for it."
"Ha! He always said you were like this, and I never believed him." The teenager looked wistful, "You might not be so hopeful about me if you knew what I did."
