by James Hunt
“Mommy, it’s okay,” Maisie said.
“You’re not real,” Amy replied, keeping her eyes forward as she marched on, pushing through the pain in her feet, sweat dripping down her body, and her skin being coated by the droplets of blood from the sky. “You’re not real.”
“Amy.”
She stopped at the sound of Running Water’s voice, which boomed louder than her daughter’s, and in the same instance, the pain in her feet receded. The burning stopped.
“It’s her, but you don’t have much time,” he said.
“Maisie?” Amy asked, her voice quivering and her eyes welling with tears. “Baby?”
“Hi, Mom,” Maisie answered, a smile in her voice.
Unsure of their connection, Amy quickly covered herself. “Can-Can you see me?”
“No,” Maisie answered, her voice defeated and unsure. “Can you see me?”
Amy covered her mouth, stifling a grief-filled moan, and then cleared her throat. “No, but I’m so glad to hear your voice, sweetheart. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” Maisie answered. “But Lizzy went to help Dad.”
Amy frowned. “Help Dad? What’s wrong with Dad?” Her imagination ran wild. “Is he okay?”
“I don’t know,” Masie said.
It must have something to do with Mulaney. He must have gotten wind of what Terry had done.
“Mom, when are you coming back?” Maisie asked.
Her daughter’s question yanked Amy from her downward spiral into the depths of despair that her mind and imagination offered.
“As soon as I can, sweetheart,” Amy answered. She was unable to speak the truth to her daughter, the fact that she would never come home, but she was so thankful that she was able to speak with her little girl one last time, as she suspected that the medicine man’s powers wouldn’t grant her another audience moving forward. “But I want you to know how much I love you, and no matter how long it takes for me to see you again, I will always love you.”
“I love you too,” Maisie said, the smile evident in her tone.
A slight burning returned to the soles of her feet, and Amy figured that it was a sign that she didn’t have much time left. “Can you do me a favor, Maisie?”
“Okay.”
“Can you tell your sister how much I love her when you see her again? And tell her—” She choked up, fighting against her grief. “Would you tell her that I’m sorry we fought so much lately. And that I’m sorry… I’m sorry for what happened in the car.” She covered her mouth, no longer able to hold back the wave of sobs that rolled out of her and sent spasms through her body.
“Okay,” Maisie said, her voice growing fainter. “I’ll tell her. I miss you, Mommy.”
Amy dropped her hand. “I miss you too, sweetheart. More than you could ever know.” She didn’t bother to hide her sorrow, letting it roll off of her as her daughter’s voice continued to fade from her mind.
“Bye, Mommy…”
Maisie’s voice echoed in her mind, and when the searing burn in her feet returned in full force, Amy knew that her daughter was gone. Whatever connection that the medicine man had allowed them had run its course. She was once again alone.
But the contact reinvigorated her and stoked a fire that had long been extinguished since her arrival here, and she marched forward with a renewed purpose flooding through her veins.
She was told that this world was a holding tank to the afterlife, which meant that there was a connection between this realm and the others. After all, she had been brought here, and the medicine man had been able to at least allow Amy to hear her daughter’s voice.
When she first arrived here, she thought that this place was much different than the spirit world where she had traveled the desert, but she was starting to believe that they were similar. Just because a door hadn’t been found didn’t mean that one didn’t exist. She remembered how hard it was to find that lake, and the doubt and pain that riddled her mind and body, just like it did now.
Still, her daughter’s voice had rekindled Amy’s hope. But in this place, hope could be as dangerous as apathy.
74
The tears had stopped flowing by the time Liz reached the reservation. The unexplainable fear of being chased by Mulaney’s thugs continued to bring her eyes to the rearview mirror, but instead of headlights, she only saw the bodies of the people in the truck bed. Her father was still unconscious. Kara was awake.
“Turn up there.” Ben thrust his arm through the open window, pointing toward the fork in the road that took them off the paved road.
The truck’s headlights finally highlighted the old man’s trailer, but it also revealed two other cars that hadn’t been there when they left.
Liz parked the truck next to an old rusted Buick sedan and shut off the engine, which lurched the battered truck forward when she took her foot off the brake and put it in park. It was almost like the old beast had taken its final breath, pushed as far as its old chassis would allow.
Ben got out of the truck and then picked Terry out of the bed, quickly carrying him behind the trailer. “Doc? Doc!”
Liz was hesitant to follow, and when she finally took the first few steps, a hand pulled her back. It was Kara.
“You don’t have to go back there,” Kara said, her voice soft.
Liz frowned. “Is he—”
“He’s still alive,” Kara said. “And we’ll try and keep him that way.” She winced and then touched the back of her skull.
“What happened back there?” Liz asked.
Kara examined her fingertips, which had flakes of dried blood on them. “Trouble.”
“You should see the doctor,” Liz said. “You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine,” Kara replied.
Liz nodded and then headed toward the back of the trailer.
“Hey,” Kara said, causing Liz to turn. “It’s always the worst right before it gets better.” She forced a half smile. “At least that’s what I’ve been told.”
“Thank you,” Liz said, then noticing that the others had gathered around her, looked at each of them in turn. “All of you.”
They didn’t respond, but Liz hadn’t expected them to. They gave their response when they risked their lives to save her father. It was a debt that she didn’t know how to repay.
“Lizzy?”
Liz turned and was tackled by Maisie before she made it all the way around.
“You came back!” Maisie said.
Liz dropped to her knees and reciprocated the embrace, the sisters locked together tightly. “Told you I would.”
Maisie leaned back and smiled. “Where’s Daddy?”
“He’s behind the trailer, getting some help,” Liz answered.
“Is he hurt?” Maisie asked, her eyes big and wide, the way they always got whenever she was scared.
“Yeah, but he’s going to be okay,” Liz answered, knowing that she couldn’t speak the truth of what she thought. She stood and took Maisie’s hand. “But I need you to wait here, okay?”
Kara came over, taking Maisie’s hand, and led her back into the trailer, the rest of her people following. She knew that her sister didn’t need to see her father in his current condition. She could barely handle it herself.
Liz clenched her fist, staring at the canvas flap to the hut’s entrance, flowing gently from a breeze. She couldn’t hear anything other than the pounding of her heart, her breaths echoing in her head. She didn’t stop, knowing that hesitation meant she’d collapse. She needed to keep moving. She needed to see what would become of her father.
Liz entered the hut quickly, the fire in the center drawing her attention first. Next came her father, who lay on his back next to the flames.
Running Water hovered nearby, but a man she had never seen before was performing an examination. She assumed that was the doctor. “Is he going to live?” She blurted the question out, knowing that its answer was the only one that mattered.
The man who she thought was t
he doctor didn’t look up as he continued to check her father’s body. “He’s suffered a variety of injuries. His vitals are holding, but barely.” He looked up at her. “He could have internal damage that I just can’t diagnose. He needs to go to the hospital.”
“He needs medicine,” Running Water said, reaching for a bowl, then looked to Liz instead of the doctor. “May I?”
Liz nodded.
“Running Water, I appreciate the old ways just as much as the next—”
“Then you should have finished your apprenticeship with me instead of going to medical school.” Running Water leaned down from his wheelchair and brought the bowl to her father’s lips, which parted and drank from the edge.
Liz walked to her father slowly, taking in the bruises and blood that covered his body. She hadn’t been able to get a very good look at him from when he was loaded into the back of the truck. They had placed a blanket from the waist down, keeping him modest.
She dropped to a knee and reached for Terry’s hand. It was wet, slick with blood, but she held onto it regardless. The blood was warm, and it had a metal scent to it that flooded quickly through her nostrils and shredded her brain. “I don’t want him to die.”
“He’s not going to die,” Running Water said. “Andrew, can you bring us more supplies?”
Andrew was the doctor, and while he grumbled under his breath, he stood, nodding. “I have a few things that can help. But if his condition worsens, then we’ll need to get him to a hospital. I know for sure he has bruised ribs, and if it penetrated one of his lungs, he could choke to death on his own fluids.”
If the doctor’s diagnosis was meant to frighten Liz, she didn’t show it, and the doctor left, still grumbling. All Liz could do was fight the tears in her eyes.
“I can’t believe they did this to him,” Liz said.
“He is an evil man,” Running Water said. “And relentless. This won’t be over for him. Which means it’s not over for you and your family.”
Liz lifted her eyes and saw that the medicine man was looking at her. “Why did you do this to us? Why did you bring us here?”
Running Water’s eyes became misty, and the old man shook his head. “I am only a—”
“Forget it.” Liz cast her eyes back down to her father and pressed his hand against her chest. She thought that maybe the old man might speak more to try and make her feel better, but she was glad when he didn’t and even more relieved when he wheeled himself out, leaving her alone.
Uncontrollable sobs rolled out of her, and the tears in her eyes blurred the sight of her broken and bloodied father. She squeezed his hand tighter, wishing that he would squeeze back, but there was nothing.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Liz said, forcing the words out between sobs. “I’m so sorry I’ve been so hard to deal with lately.” She sniffled, drawing deep breaths to try and calm herself. They helped a little. “I was just so mad at her, you know? I know you were too.” The tears started up again. “I’m just sorry that I was such a shit.” She lifted her head, staring up at the pictures painted onto the canvas ceiling. She didn’t know what they were exactly, probably whatever gods they worshiped here.
Liz had never believed in God. Her family had never gone to church. But she had the sudden urge to pray, to bargain, to do whatever it took to save her father’s life.
“Whatever you want,” Liz said, her voice a whisper. “I’ll go to school. Get better grades. Do more chores around the house. Whatever it takes. Just keep him alive.”
“Liz?” Terry’s voice was ragged and cracked.
Liz smiled. “Hey, Dad.”
Terry struggled to keep his eyes open, but he managed to reciprocate the light squeeze that Liz gave his hand. “Where are we?”
“Back at the reservation, with that medicine man,” Liz answered. “We got you out, Dad. You’re safe now.”
Terry’s Adam apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, eyes still closed. “Where’s Maisie?”
“She’s safe, she’s here.” Liz scooted closer. “How are you feeling?”
“Not good.”
Liz laughed. “You don’t look good.” She set his hand down and then reached for the bowl that the medicine man had made. “Drink this.” She brought it to his lips and again he drank. She figured it must be good for him because he drank it all.
After a few big gulps to finish it, Terry leaned his head back on the flat pillow, coughing as Liz pulled the bowl back. He drew in a pair of slow breaths, and when he opened his eyes again, they stayed open.
Liz smiled, glad to see her father in better shape. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough vacation.”
Terry smiled, but it quickly transformed into a grimace. “Ah, don’t joke. I’m already in enough pain as it is.”
Liz reached for his hand again, thankful that he was able to reciprocate the squeeze. “A doctor is coming to bring help. He said that he thinks you’re going to be okay, but we should probably get you to a hospital.”
“We need to go to the police,” Terry said. “Mulaney, he—”
“We know,” Liz said. “Kara says that the police won’t help. That Mulaney has some people on his payroll. We’ll need to go somewhere else, outside of his reach, to get help.” She glanced at her father’s broken body. He was far from any condition to be moved. They’d barely been able to get him here.
“It’s not safe for us here,” Terry said. “Especially you and Maisie.”
Liz cocked an eyebrow up. “Look who’s talking.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Dad, we’re in this together. You’re not the only one who’s been through hell.”
“Yeah, but I’m the only one who looks like shit.”
Liz laughed, the amusement loud and quick, and she covered her mouth, still overcome with a fit of giggles. Her father had never talked like that, and it must have been her laughter that brought the smile to his face. It was good to see him smile. She hadn’t seen him do that in a long time.
“Lizzy,” Terry said, taking the time for both of their amusement to subside. “I don’t know how we’re going to get your mother back.”
Liz took a deep breath and nodded. “Neither do I. But we’ll figure it out together.” She held onto his hand tight, each of them drawing upon each other’s strengths. “She didn’t give up on us. We can’t give up on her. You don’t quit on family.”
Terry smiled. “No. You don’t.”
75
Aside from the road noise and the chatter from his security team’s radios, Mulaney stewed in silence as they passed through the desert on their way to Ghost Town. He hated the barren wasteland where he had constructed his business.
But land was cheap, and it provided a central location for his hub of businesses. Still, he knew that if this new extraction process worked, then he would have enough money to headquarter his business anywhere in the world.
New York, Seattle, Miami, hell, he could go to Hong Kong. He was sure that demand for his process would be international.
Staring out into the empty nothingness of the desert, a smile spread across Mulaney’s face at the prospect of leaving this place, of returning to a place that was new and useful. He had longed for a chance to change. And this was his moment.
Mulaney turned from the window and straightened himself in his seat, the smile gone.
Everything he had built, all of the blood and sweat and sacrifice that he poured into his business was now in jeopardy because of one fucking man. He couldn’t believe Terry had done what he did. But then again, he did marry some crazy woman, though she was suddenly MIA.
Bishop turned from the front passenger seat of the SUV. “Sir, we still aren’t getting Duane on the radio. It could be a coms issue—”
“Not with my luck, it isn’t,” Mulaney said. “Just keep trying until we get there. We don’t have anything better to do.”
Bishop nodded and faced forward again.
Mulaney glared at the back of Bishop’s
head. This had been the first time that his man had showed any cracks in his ability to get the job done. He had always been efficient, calculated, one step ahead. So how could a family from Colorado have thrown him so terribly off his game?
He reached for his laptop, hoping that the rhythm of work would take his mind off the madness of his situation.
The first email was a notarized copy of the note that Mulaney had forced Terry to write and sign. The notary was a good friend. And by friend he meant someone that he had paid off. That was how Mulaney made most of his friends.
The official seal would make Terry’s confession more appropriate in court, which his lawyers advised him that the likelihood of this turning into a full-blown legal matter was imminent.
The thought triggered another flood of rage, but he was able to bring himself back from the edge as he focused on which of his assets would most likely be targeted during the investigation.
All of his mining operations, for sure. His headquarters and smaller branches that he had around the country. But the facilities he kept off the books and off grid were safe. His accountants had assured him of that when he purchased the land.
Seclusion was about the only thing the desert was good for, which meant that Terry Holloway wouldn’t be found until Mulaney wanted them to find him. He just needed to figure out how he wanted to play it.
It was obvious to him now that Terry had to die. He knew too much, and after everything he’d done, there was no way that Mulaney would trust anything that came out of the man’s mouth.
Bishop would take care of the particulars of course, but it would be Mulaney who would have to give the order. It was an order he had given only once before. And it had been haunting him for a long time.
It would need to look like an accident. Usually when that happened, the details of everything else fell into place.
But there were a few anomalies that Mulaney would have to weigh this time that he didn’t have before. Terry’s kids.
Mulaney had always considered himself a prudent man. Efficient, calculated, even cold. But killing children? Even he had his limits. Even if he wasn’t the one pulling the trigger. And he suspected that as loyal as Bishop had been, even he might question the order to kill two girls.
