by Ron Ripley
Jose raised an eyebrow. “She went out there after a cripple.”
“Who killed a team,” Ellen snapped. “Don’t forget, she also managed to get out of the Village in the first place.”
“Calm down,” David commanded. Both Ellen and Jose dropped the argument. After a moment, he continued, “Obviously, mistakes were made here. I am really hoping they didn’t cost Jane her life. However, we all know it’s a distinct possibility. What I want are options for this as well.”
“Go into town,” Ellen said, Jose nodding in agreement. “Plenty of hunters in there. You might find someone who knows what they’re doing.”
“And if they run into the missing subject?” David asked.
“Put a shooter with every hunter,” Jose said. “Kill the subject and the hunter.”
David raised an eyebrow.
“Hunting accidents happen all the time,” Jose said. “Tragic, but not out of the ordinary.”
“Cold,” Ellen said, “but practical as all hell, David.”
“Yeah,” David said. “Ellen, send the two Rangers to me. Jose, get down into town, see what you can scare up for potential. Nothing fancy for a cover story. Keep it simple. One of our own went out for a hike, got caught in the storm. You know the deal.”
“Sure thing,” Jose said, standing up. “I’ll take care of it now.”
Ellen remained seated as the man left the room.
“What’s up?” David asked, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest.
“This isn’t going to end well,” she said after a moment of contemplation.
“How’s that?” he asked.
“Whoever you send out there after the subject,” Ellen continued, “is going to die.”
“I don’t think she’ll be able to stand up against a couple of Rangers.” David looked at her, mildly irritated.
“You don’t?” Ellen asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. “David, are you even listening to yourself?”
He started to speak, but she cut him off.
“No, David, listen to me,” she said carefully. “You sent three teams out there after this woman. She killed the last one. Ambushed them and killed them with their own weapons. You sent Jane out. Jane, David. Not exactly what you’d call a shrinking violet. Now, either Jane has done something monumentally stupid, like turning off all her gear and destroying it, or the subject has gotten the jump on her. As a cripple, David. She got the better of Jane while escaping on a bum leg. Do you really think a couple of Rangers and some gung-ho hunters from Podunk, New York are going to stand up against her?”
David felt his anger rise.
“What do you suggest then, Ellen?” he asked tightly.
“Wait for her,” Ellen said. “Eventually, she’s going to come out on a main road. When she does, she’ll try and get help. Put the boss’ money and connections to use. Have an APB put out for an escaped mental patient or something. We know what she looks like. What her injury is. Hell, have her real history written up as a delusion. Cops or States’ll pick her up, put her in a holding cell, and one of us can go and grab her. You just have to get the boss to do it.”
David wanted to argue with her, to deny the reasoning behind her suggestion.
But it’s sound, he thought grudgingly.
“We’ll do both,” David said after a moment. “We’ll send out the Rangers and the hunters. I’ll go and talk with the professor as soon as I’m done setting up the immediate response. Fair enough?”
“Fair enough,” Ellen said, standing. She turned to leave, paused, and faced him again. “David, I have to ask, what are we doing about Timmy?”
“What do you mean?” David asked.
“He’s in the Village,” Ellen said. “His girlfriend was killed in his arms. You know he’s figured it out.”
“So what?” David asked defensively. “Ellen, why the hell are you second guessing everything?”
She smiled coldly at him. “David, you know what’s going to happen. Timmy’s going to get out. He’s going to kill us all. Every, single, one of us. If you don’t think so, then you’re lying to yourself.”
Anger stopped him from responding.
“I’m not hanging around,” Ellen said with a shrug. “Soon as I hear he’s made it out of the Village, this little girl is gone. If I have to hike it out of here, I will. We all know what he did in that town. You need to remember, David, he killed those people because he could. What do you think he’s going to do to us?”
David’s anger faded, smothered beneath the cold truth of Ellen’s statement.
She left him alone in the room, the possibilities of a painful death laid bare before him.
Chapter 33: Obligations
Marcus lay on his back in the main room. The fire snapped and popped in the hearth, the warmth of the flames soothing. His healing shoulder throbbed occasionally, keeping time with his heart and the annoying pulsing coming from his leg wounds.
This is ridiculous, he thought, closing his eyes. The clock in the center of town chimed nine in the morning, and he wondered where Alex and Timmy had gotten off to. I need to do something about Christopher. We have to build some sort of case and transfer the damned bayonet into the chapel, imprison him there along with the other.
The recollection of the dead man trapped in the chapel caused Marcus to shudder.
Yes, they are men to fear, Marcus thought. I can only hope Joyce makes it to safety.
The conundrum of her possible success gnawed at him. He knew the situation might become untenable should she prove to find assistance. There was the possibility of Worthe getting word of a raid. The chance Alex, Timmy and himself might be killed outright before they could be saved.
And what if whomever she meets is working for Worthe? Not directly, but on his payroll? What then? Marcus shook his head. Will she be brought back here and imprisoned? Executed at the gate as an abject lesson in the futility of escape?
So many damned possibilities!
Yet as these raced through his mind, his thoughts turned back to Alex.
He has to be safe, Marcus thought, trying to keep his thoughts coherent despite the pain from his many injuries. How though? Is it even possible, with Worthe having destroyed the boy’s family? With my own life erased from the fabric of reality?
Marcus knew how much contemporary life revolved around the digital world. Reestablishing himself, as himself, would require more than a Herculean effort. It would, Marcus understood, depend upon divine intervention.
Unless, he thought, opening his eyes and staring up at the ceiling. Then, speaking aloud, “Who’s to say we ever have to leave? Would it not be possible to find some way of remaining here?”
As these thoughts churned in his mind, Marcus continued to gaze up at the ceiling, his mind working its way through the possibilities.
***
Alex lay beside Timmy in the snow, sensing the pain radiating from the man. They were near where Meredith had been killed. On the other side of the wrought iron fence, some of the Huron warriors lurked, waiting for someone, anyone, to pass by. The dead men were spoiling for a fight, and Alex felt a small measure of pity for anyone who happened by.
The memory of Meredith’s death erased the pity, and Alex found himself hoping someone would stumble upon the ghosts.
“You okay, kid?” Timmy asked.
“Yes,” Alex replied. “Why?”
“Your breathing changed,” Timmy said.
Alex looked at him, surprised. “Really?”
“Yup,” Timmy said with a wink. “You got to pay attention to the little things. Big things, too, but mostly the little things. They tell you everything you need to know about what’s going on.”
Alex glanced out at the fence, catching sight of the guard towers by the gate. “What little things am I missing?”
Timmy chuckled. “I like that. See, most adults, they’d say I was talking out of my, well, butt. A few might argue, but not many would say what you just did. Okay, y
ou really want to know?”
Alex nodded.
“First,” Timmy said. “The whole time you’ve been here, in the Village, there have been only two guards in each tower. How many are there now? Can you see?”
Alex frowned, focused and then said, “Four. How come so many?”
“You tell me,” Timmy said.
Alex stared at the guards, watching the way they walked around the small platform.
“They’re nervous,” Alex said softly. “Christopher can get out. I bet that never happened before.”
“What else?” Timmy asked gently. “What else can you see?”
Alex squinted. “They all have thicker armor on. Why?”
“What does Christopher use?” Timmy asked in response.
“A bayonet,” Alex whispered. “It was cutting through too easily. They need the armor. Do you think they have to wear the regular stuff, too? Never mind, of course they do.”
“Good,” Timmy said. “Can you tell anything else from this far out?”
Alex watched the guards. A heartbeat later, one of them stumbled and was caught by the others.
“They’re tired,” Alex said. He turned on his side to look at Timmy better. “They don’t have many people left.”
“That’s right,” Timmy said grimly. “They don’t. Hey, I want some coffee. You coming back with me?”
“In a minute,” Alex said with a smile.
Timmy gave him a pat on the head, got to his feet and walked back to the house. When he was gone, Alex saw a dead man walking toward him.
It was Timmy’s grandfather.
The old soldier sat down a little distance away from Alex and smiled.
“How are you holding up?” the old man asked.
“Fine, sir,” Alex replied.
The dead man chuckled. “I’m glad to hear it. Listen, there’s a hell of a fight comin’ along.”
Alex nodded.
“It’s going to be bad,” the old man said, his smile fading. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Alex whispered.
“I’ve been listening,” the dead man said. “The guards, they talk, like any soldiers, really. There’s word of more troops coming in. A lot more. Worthe wants you, Alex. He’s willing to storm the Village and take some heavy casualties, too.”
“I don’t want that,” Alex said. “Will you help me?”
The dead man’s look of surprise was genuine.
“How?” Timmy’s grandfather asked.
Alex flexed his hands and looked at the ghost’s face. “You were a soldier.”
“I was,” the man replied.
“You know how to shoot a rifle?” Alex asked.
“I know how to hit what I’m aiming at, too,” the man said. “Why do you ask? Do you want me to show you how to shoot?”
“No,” Alex replied carefully. “When everything starts, I want you to be me.”
“Why?” the dead man asked in a low voice.
“Because,” Alex said, and then he quoted Timmy. “Because there are just some people who need killin’.”
“Yes,” the dead man said, looking over to where Meredith had died. “I suppose there are.”
Chapter 34: The News at Six
Jose hated the cold. He hated it with a passion most people reserved for murderers. He always felt as though it was the world’s way of showing how much it despised him.
He continued along, his snowshoes propelling him forward fast enough to keep the blood from freezing in his veins.
“Look.”
Liam pointed past the hunter they had hired and toward a piece of gray fabric barely visible in a snow drift.
“Think it’s hers?” the hunter asked.
The man was old, with a large red nose striated with broken blood vessels.
“Can’t be anyone else’s,” Liam said, not bothering to hide his disgust with the old man. The hunter grumbled at Liam’s tone, but he didn’t confront the young Ranger outright.
Liam moved past the hunter, whose name Jose couldn’t remember, and hurried to the nearly invisible tent. When he reached it, Liam swept the snow away, revealing the tent to be collapsed, and highlighting the body beneath the fabric.
“Oh hell,” the hunter muttered. “Girl’s dead.”
“Yup,” Jose said. He drew his sidearm, put the barrel of the Glock against the man’s temple and pulled the trigger. The hunter collapsed into the snow, a wide spray of blood and brains splashed against the white.
“He was annoying,” Liam called back to Jose without looking.
“Yeah,” Jose agreed. He bent over, fished his casing out of the snow, and tucked it into his pocket. “I’m not bringing the body back.”
“No?” Liam asked, drawing a knife and cutting away some of the tent fabric.
“Nope,” Jose said, moving towards the tent. “If the professor really wants the body out, then they can chopper it out. I’m not playing meat-wagon for anyone other than Jane.”
Liam grunted his agreement. He finished with the tent, peeled it back and revealed the contorted, frozen form of Jane. Liam pointed down, and Jose saw the frozen blood pooled beneath the dead woman.
“Great,” Jose sighed. “I’ll call it in.”
***
Rarely had David ever felt so tired. He tried to remember the occasions where he might have, but he was too exhausted to focus. Sleep had eluded him, and his mind was preoccupied with Jane.
She was missing, and there was a search party scouring the countryside for some information.
At exactly six in the evening, his radio squawked. The noise jerked him out of a half-doze, adrenaline pumping through him as he snatched the handset up.
“Go for David,” he said.
“David,” Jose said. “Bad news. The subject is still in the wind.”
David’s jaw tightened. “Jane?”
“No,” Jose said. “Femoral. Probably bled out in a couple of minutes.”
“Where?” David asked.
“Inside her tent,” Jose responded. “Hate to say it, but it looks like the subject got the drop on her. Somehow got into the tent, stuck her, then hung around for a while.”
“How do you figure the last part?” David stood up, rubbing at his temple with his free hand.
“Food wrappers,” Jose said. “This one’s cold. Anyway, reason we couldn’t get a trace is simple. The subject broke the devices. Took out the SIM cards, snapped them, and stripped out the batteries. Only reason we found her is because Liam caught sight of the tent.”
“Can you get an evac bird in there?” David asked.
“Sure,” Jose said. “It’ll take a bit to chopper her out. She’s basically a piece of cordwood at this point. Do you want us to haul the tracker out, too?”
“Can you burn him there?” David asked.
“Um, no, probably not the way it needs to be done,” Jose sighed. “I didn’t pack a saw either. Damn. Guess we’ll have to haul his body out.”
“All right,” David said. “Call for the bird. Get out of there with both bodies, and we’ll figure it all out when you get back.”
“Copy that, Jose out.”
David set the radio down.
Who do I tell first? he wondered. After a moment, he made his decision. He left his room and headed for the professor’s study. Schomp would need to wait until Professor Worthe was informed of the situation.
As he walked down the hallway, David felt a sense of unease settle over him.
The professor, he suspected, wouldn’t take the news well.
Chapter 35: Setting it all in Motion
“I need a distraction,” Timmy said.
“Easy enough to supply,” Marcus replied.
Timmy raised an eyebrow and said, “I don’t think you’re the best option.”
“Timmy,” Marcus said evenly. “I am the only option. We will not use Alex as a decoy. I doubt, too, our friends on the other side of the fence will be particularly interested in any of the Huron warriors. Or ev
en with Elaine.”
The dead woman looked over at him from where she sat with Alex. They were playing a game of checkers, where her red pieces were moved by Alex as she pointed out where she wanted them. The two were an odd pairing, although they were perfectly happy to keep one another company.
“I’d be okay,” Alex said without looking up from the board.
“I do not doubt you would be,” Marcus stated. “However, it is not an option. Am I understood?”
“Yes,” Alex grumbled.
Timmy chuckled. “Don’t worry, kid, there’ll be plenty of chances to die while we’re here.”
“So,” Marcus said in a dry tone, “what is the nature of the distraction?”
“You need to get Christopher out of his house,” Timmy said, his face taking on a serious mien. “As soon as he’s out, I can get in, plant the explosives, set them, and get out. Easy peasy, right?”
“No,” Marcus said. “I don’t think it’s going to be easy at all.”
“Of course not,” Timmy laughed. “As soon as you step out the door the entire situation will go straight downhill. We both know that. All we can do is plan and hope for the best. Right, kid?”
“Hope for the best and plan for the worst,” Alex said without looking up.
“Kid picks it up quick,” Timmy said.
“He’s a bright child,” Marcus said. “Let us try and focus on Christopher, Timmy.”
“Sure,” Timmy said. “Sounds good to me.”
Marcus watched as the other man’s eyes lost focus as if he were seeing something Marcus wasn’t privy to. When Timmy spoke again, his voice had a distant quality to it.
“It’s a simple plan,” Timmy said. “The greatest challenge is going to be the placement of the explosives. We have enough material to build what I need. Cleaning supplies from other houses, all the good stuff. I have a few different, primitive timers I can whip up. Nothing we’ll have any control over, once they’re set, but we’ll be fine. I want to do it at night. The dead Indians will help if Alex tells them to.”
“Do you think the bayonet will be destroyed in the blast?” Marcus asked.
