by Alan Cook
“We’re close,” Shahla said. “I hope the sound of our engine didn’t scare them.”
“Apparently it didn’t, or they would have stopped singing.” Tony looked at his watch again. “Twelve minutes to midnight. I’m going to drive another fifty yards and then stop again. We’ve got to find out exactly where they are.”
They drove a short distance and stopped. The singing was still ahead of them. Tony repeated the maneuver.
Shahla, whose seat in the truck was on the south side of the ridge trail, said, “The singing is right below us.”
They both got out of the truck, leaving the doors open so as not to make excessive noise. They walked to the edge of the hill and looked down. The singing grew louder and they could see lights—candles. The people were lighting candles, apparently in anticipation of imminent Ascension.
Tony’s first thought was that open flames were prohibited in Southern California, where the fire danger in September was extreme, especially in this brushy area. But if you were about to ascend into heaven, you didn’t care about earthly worries like brushfires. The sound of religious music in this setting was eerie. And when Tony thought about what the singers expected to do, he felt something crawling up his neck.
The people were sixty or seventy feet below them, on a level area. A plateau that stuck out of the hillside. Hodgkins must have spent some time looking for that particular spot. It was inaccessible by motor vehicle. The only way to get to it was to walk down a steep path from where Tony and Shahla were standing. Tony could barely make out the path in the dark.
He had been right about one thing. The faithful had found a way into the park, probably through the fence that bordered the north side, not far from them. If they had cut a hole in the fence, nobody would have noticed because of the inaccessibility of the area, caused by the brush and the steepness of the hill. Then they could clear a path from there to the ridge, through the ice plant and the brush. And avoid the police.
There might be a hundred people, but it was impossible to pick out individuals. Impossible to tell whether Nathan and Tina were in the crowd.
“I’m going down there,” Shahla said. “It’s too steep for you, with your knee.” She looked at her watch. “Ten minutes to zero hour. Come back to the truck. I’ve got an idea.”
Tony wanted to argue, but what she said was correct. He couldn’t go down the steep hill with any speed. Especially in the dark. And in ten minutes, when they expected to ascend into heaven, what would happen? Would Nathan kill Tina and then himself if the miracle didn’t occur immediately? There was no way to tell. He had killed Joy. He was capable of anything.
Shahla was pulling the white tarpaulin out of the back of the truck. “Help me,” she said.
“What’s this for?”
“I’ll tell you when we get it to the edge.”
CHAPTER 39
Tony hoped that Shahla was clear of the path that went from him to the plateau. He had watched her start down it, with trepidation, but she had almost immediately melted into the dark.
He couldn’t wait any longer. He turned on the flashlight and propped it up on a small rock, right at the edge of the cliff, so that the light shone upward at a steep angle. Then he picked up part of the tarp and wrapped it around his body. Fortunately, he didn’t have to pick up the whole thing, just enough to give the appearance that he was wearing a white robe. In the dark, nobody would see him that clearly, anyway.
When he had the tarp positioned around him, he looked at his watch. At one minute to twelve he stepped in the path of the beam of light and raised his arms. He was impersonating Jesus. Jesus, who was bidding the faithful welcome to heaven. At first, nobody below seemed to see him. And then somebody shouted.
The singing stopped. Now they saw him. They must be looking up at him. Good. This was the distraction Shahla needed so that she could free Tina. If she could find her. She had taken the box cutter to cut any tape holding Tina. But even though he had urged her to take the crowbar, she had refused.
As Tony watched, the lights started moving—toward him. The people were climbing the path because he was going to lead them to heaven. He hadn’t figured on this. And they were chanting. What were they saying? As the sound became louder, he understood. They were chanting the name “Jesus” over and over. The path was narrow, and they had to climb slowly, in single file, but still he started to panic. What would happen when they reached him and found out that he wasn’t Jesus?
He had to hold his position as long as he could, to give Shahla a chance. Sweat poured down his face, in spite of the night chill. The faithful would be plenty mad when they found out the truth. Fortunately, it was taking them some time to ascend the steep hill. Now he could begin to see their faces, by the light of the candles. Could they make his out? Did he look enough like Jesus?
He couldn’t stay here any longer. He dropped the tarp, picked up the flashlight and ran a few feet away from the edge, out of sight. Then he stopped. What should he do? He pondered his options. He couldn’t drive away in the truck because he couldn’t leave Shahla and Tina here, with Nathan on the loose. It would be impossible to turn it around in the dark, anyway, without driving off the cliff. But he also couldn’t face the angry multitude. If they did him bodily harm, he wouldn’t be able to help anybody. He closed and locked the doors of the truck and then went a few feet down the other side of the ridge and hid behind some brush.
Tony positioned himself so that he would be able to see the people as they reached the top of the ridge, especially if they still had their candles, but they wouldn’t be able to see him in the dark. He waited, not daring to move. The chanting grew louder.
He thought he heard a scream from below, but the sound was muffled by the chanting, and he couldn’t tell for sure. And it sounded far away. Maybe he had imagined it. Could he ignore it? He heard it again. No. He had to check. He came out of his hiding place, went to the edge of the cliff and carefully looked down, not showing himself. The leaders were almost to the top. He could follow the movement of the line of people, slowly climbing the hill. But he couldn’t see anything else.
Tony retreated to his hiding place and secreted himself again. Just in time. The leader rose out of the earth. A head came first, followed by a body. A second person materialized. Three, four, eight—now there were a dozen. And the number grew steadily as more and more people appeared.
They ignored the tarpaulin that he had left in a heap. They also ignored the truck. Those who were fit assisted the ones who were lame. It was a peaceful group—peaceful, but expectant. They kept chanting the name of their Lord. They thought this was it—that the Ascension was really taking place. And Tony had helped to fool them into believing it.
A few of the faithful had managed to hang onto their candles, even while climbing the steep hill. He might be able to recognize Nathan with the help of their light. But as more and more people appeared, the ones already there blocked his view of those just arriving. This was frustrating. It occurred to Tony that he might be able to mingle with them and find Nathan that way. He was no longer Jesus and they hadn’t been able to see him very well when he was. And they were all wearing regular clothes, as he was. No angelic robes.
Tony carefully eased himself out of his hiding place and joined the group. Would they spot him as an outsider? He didn’t have a candle and he avoided the light of the candles held by others. But they were looking upward, to heaven, not at him.
He carefully mingled with the parishioners, looking for Nathan, looking for Tina, even looking for Shahla. By the time the last of the flock arrived at the top of the ridge, he was sure that none of these people was among them.
He feared for the safety of the girls, especially Shahla. Should he have let her go down by herself? What choice did he have? Did his ruse work with Nathan? If so, where was Nathan? No acceptable answer came to Tony. He had to go down to the plateau.
The trail was clear of people. Moving slowly, he started down it and immediately disa
ppeared from the view of those on top. Good. But he had to be careful because it was harder going downhill than uphill, especially in the dark. He looked down at the plateau, but didn’t see any light or movement there.
It was safe to use the flashlight to guide him, so he turned it on. He made his way carefully downward, spotting where to place his feet before he took each step. He also used his hands to steady himself. He wanted to go faster, but he knew that if he did, he might not make it at all. Shahla had been brave to climb down without a flashlight.
After half an eternity, he arrived at the plateau. He quickly shone his flashlight around the flat area, where the low brush had been trampled underfoot. There was clearly nobody here.
Where were the girls? He listened for some sound, some clue. All he heard was the faint chanting from above. And then he heard motor vehicles. His cell phone rang. He had shoved it into his pants pocket just after he had called Croyden and just before he had played Jesus. He had told Croyden the Ascension was occurring inside the park.
He answered it. It was Croyden asking where he was. “On the side of the hill, but everybody else has gone up to the top. Except Nathan and Tina. I don’t know where they are. Or Shahla, either.”
“We’re coming in with four-wheel-drives and people who know the layout of the area. We’ll secure the top of the hill.”
That wasn’t going to help Shahla and Tina. “When you get there, send some officers down the path to the plateau. I need help finding the girls.”
***
Shahla quickly discovered that she couldn’t just walk down the trail. It was too steep. She couldn’t ski down it on her feet because it was too bumpy. And she couldn’t see well enough to avoid the ruts. So she half walked and half slid. She spent a lot of time on her butt, sometimes falling on it, sometimes sliding on it for a few feet. Her hands, already sore from her adventures last night, were getting cut up even more since she used them to break her frequent butt landings.
At least the parishioners were singing and not paying any attention to her. Even if they saw her, they might think she was one of them. Her hand hit something sharp, probably a rock. She suppressed a shout that would have been heard over the singing. She had to sit down for a few seconds, until her hand stopped stinging.
She wished she could have brought the flashlight, but Tony needed it, and it would have attracted the attention of the singers to her before she reached the plateau. He had wanted her to bring the crowbar, but she couldn’t take the chance that somebody would spot it and think it odd that she would bring a crowbar to the Ascension. She had to work on the premise that if Nathan attacked her, the others would intervene.
Two nights ago she had been afraid to go out in the dark. But then the enemy didn’t have a face. She was still afraid, but at least Nathan had a face. And there were other people around. In addition, she owed it to Tina.
Shahla was almost close enough so that she could identify people by the light of the candles they held. Except that they stood facing away from her, toward someone who was leading the singing. She arrived at the level area and looked them over. She wanted to spot Nathan before he spotted her. She strolled carefully among the singers. A few glanced at her, but even though she was wearing shorts, they didn’t seem to think she was out of place. The others were dressed in clothes suitable for walking.
She spotted Nathan because he was separated from the rest of the crowd. And he was taller than most and whiter than most, although in the dark that wasn’t much of a distinguishing characteristic. Shahla edged closer to him, from behind. She didn’t see Tina. Had he…?
There was a movement at his feet. It was Tina, sitting on the ground. Still alive. Shahla found herself saying a silent prayer of thanks. Tina was one of the few who weren’t standing. And she wasn’t singing, either. Was she still taped? Shahla couldn’t tell. She looked at her watch. It was time for the party to begin.
She looked up the hill and saw a light come on at the top. Then, as she watched, Tony appeared in the light, dressed in white, and raised his arms. The vision was faint enough and ghostly enough to make it look authentic. He made a good Jesus. But nobody saw him. The singers weren’t looking up the hill.
Shahla moved a few feet to one side so that several people were between her and Nathan. She put her hand over her mouth to disguise her voice and yelled, “Look up there,” over the sound of the singing.
Everybody looked up. The singing abruptly stopped, and there was a collective gasp from the crowd. The faithful stood transfixed for several seconds. Then, as if on command, they started moving up the path toward Tony. They had to walk slowly, in single file, but the ones in back waited patiently for those in front to clear the way. Some required help, but they would all make it, given enough time.
A murmur started somewhere in the crowd and grew louder as others picked it up. After a few seconds, Shahla could make it out. The people chanted the word, “Jesus,” in time to their steps, as if they were mesmerized.
Shahla waited impatiently, hoping that Nathan would get caught up and follow the crowd. As the people in front of her moved forward, she could see the spot where he had been standing. He wasn’t there. She spotted him marching up the hill with the others. But Tina was still sitting there. How long would it be before he remembered her?
This was Shahla’s opportunity, but she had to act fast. She made her way swiftly to Tina’s side and said, in a stage whisper, “Tina, it’s Shahla.”
Tina turned her head and looked at Shahla, startled. Her hands were behind her back
“Are your hands and feet taped?” Shahla asked, kneeling beside her.
“Just my hands.”
“I’m going to free you.” Shahla pulled the box cutter out of her pocket and slid the blade clear of the handle. She grabbed one of Tina’s arms and felt carefully for the tape. She didn’t want to cut Tina. The duct tape was wound around her wrists several times. Shahla sliced through it with the box cutter. That instrument was sharp, which made the job easier.
“Ouch,” Tina exclaimed.
Shahla had cut into her wrist a little. “Shh,” she said. “Sorry.” The tape severed and Tina moved her arms.
“I can’t feel my hands,” she said plaintively.
“We’ve got to get away,” Shahla said. They couldn’t go up the hill toward Tony and the truck. That way was blocked by the throng and, besides, it wouldn’t be smart to follow Nathan. She ran the short distance to the edge of the plateau and looked down the hill. A trail descended from where she was standing to the picnic area. It was dimly lit by the city lights, shining down below. That was their escape route.
Tina was still sitting down when Shahla ran back to her. Shahla took hold of her arm and said urgently, “Tina, there’s a trail going down. Run down the trail and get away. I’ll be right behind you.”
Tina continued to sit. She must be in shock. Shahla placed her hands under Tina’s armpits and tried to hoist her up. It took a lot of effort, until Tina started to bear some of her own weight. Finally, she stood shakily on her feet. Shahla grew impatient.
“Come with me,” she said. She led Tina to the start of the trail. “Run, Tina,” she said. “Run as fast as you can. I’ll follow you.”
Tina seemed to wake up. She looked down the trail. She looked at Shahla. “It’s too steep.”
“Slide down it then. Get down it any way you can.”
Still Tina hesitated.
“Go,” Shahla said. “Go, go, go.” She gave Tina a push that almost knocked her down the hill.
Tina went, stumbling, down the trail. Shahla went after her, half sliding, half running. The bumping was painful, but she ignored the pain. They made good progress. Just as she thought they were going to get away, she heard sounds behind her. Sounds that were getting closer. She looked over her shoulder. It was Nathan, all right, silhouetted against the night sky, swooping down on them like an avenging demon. Well, not as graceful as a demon, but just as determined. She thought she saw somethi
ng in his right hand, probably a knife.
Shahla had to make a quick decision. She couldn’t speed up or she would overtake Tina, who was having trouble with the steep descent in the dark. She had to protect Tina. If she went off the trail, would Nathan follow her, or would he stay on the trail and go after Tina?
Shahla stepped off the trail to the left, in the direction away from Nathan’s knife hand. She stood in the low brush and watched Nathan approach. His out-of-control rush threatened to send him sprawling, but, unfortunately, that didn’t happen. Shahla placed the box cutter in her left hand. If Nathan stayed on the trail, she would attack him as he went by.
He slowed down. He wanted her. As he came abreast of her, Nathan tried to slide to a stop. He managed to grab Shahla’s right arm with his left hand, but his momentum carried them both down the hill. Shahla felt the pain of a thousand needles in her back as she fell against the stiff branches of the brush. Nathan fell partially on top of her and then bounced off.
Shahla twisted her body and tried to stand up, but she didn’t have a solid footing and fell forward into the brush. More pain. Nathan was beside her, also struggling to right himself.
She heard him say, “You’re coming with me,” as he raised the knife. “Even if I have to cut you up.”
Shahla was still off-balance, but she was able to shove him in the chest with both hands. As she did this, she lost her grip on the box cutter. It disappeared into the brush. His knife cut across her left shoulder. Then he fell backwards, and so did she. She received more damage from the sharp wooden spines. Now she and Nathan were separated by a few feet. She tried to stand and make a run for it, but the brush was too thick to allow easy movement.
She turned to face him. He was uphill from her. He stood up and towered over her, with the knife raised high, a fearsome apparition. Shahla felt naked without the box cutter. She wondered whether she was going to die. Even in the dark, she could make out a manic expression on his face. He was crazy.
