Curse (Blur Trilogy Book 3) (27 page)

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

We stand beside the downed tree.

“I should be able to make it,” Tane says to me.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. You?”

“I’ll be alright.”

“How are we going to get Alysha across?”

“How wide is it?” she asks.

“It starts out at about a foot and a half,” I tell her, “but by the time it gets to the other side, I don’t know, maybe eight to ten inches.”

She kneels and runs her hands across the log. “Is it covered with bark the whole way?”

“It looks like it.”

“No moss?”

“I don’t think so.” I study the tree. “It’s hard to say. Why?”

“If the bark is gone, the wood will be too slick. Also, if the bark is mossy, it’ll be too slippery. If not, though, I can manage. I have pretty good balance.”

She takes off her shoes and socks.

Tane watches her curiously. “What are you doing?”

“You ever see a tightrope walker wearing running shoes? This way, I can feel the log with my feet.”

“Good point.”

She stuffs the socks in the shoes, ties the laces together, and drapes them around her neck.

I offer to go first. “Alysha, you can hold onto my shoulders.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Just one will be better. Then I can have one arm to help keep my balance.”

“Alright. Remember, it’s just like walking in a straight line on solid ground.”

“Except,” Tane adds, “this time if you lose your balance, you just happen to fall ten feet into a raging river.”

“Oh, thanks. That’s very helpful.” Alysha turns to me. “You’re an athlete, right? So you’ve got this?”

“I’ve got this.”

I take off the sling so I can use both arms for correcting my weight distribution if I need to.

Then I face the river.

Alysha places her hand on my right shoulder. “Okay, let’s go.”

After taking a calming breath, I edge out onto the downed tree.

With every step, I remind myself of what I just told her: this is the same as walking in a straight line on solid ground.

But honestly, it doesn’t do a lot of good—not when I see that ten-foot gap between the log and the roiling surface of the river.

It might’ve actually been easier if there was just empty space beneath me—if the tree were spanning a canyon.

As it is, the swirling water disorients me, and I end up having to stare straight ahead to keep my focus on where we’re going rather than on what’s below us.

I feel Alysha’s grip tighten.

“You’re doing great,” I assure her. “We’re halfway there.”

After a few more feet, however, I see that I was wrong about the bark.

A section of it in front of me is sloughing off the log.

I freeze. If I step on it and it tears off, there won’t be any way to keep from ending up in the river.

“What is it?” Alysha asks.

“There’s some loose bark. We’re going to need to step over it.”

“How far?”

“Eighteen, maybe twenty inches.”

A slight pause. “Okay. Talk me through it.”

“First, get up right behind me because I need to get across and you’ll have to reach my shoulder.”

She nudges up close to me.

“Stay where you are until I get there. I’ll tell you when to move.”

“Careful.”

“Always.”

I gingerly step over the patch of rotten bark.

One foot.

Then the other.

It’s not too bad.

“Okay, your turn.” I look back over my shoulder to watch her. “You can do this.”

She lifts her right foot and steadies herself. Her balance is extraordinary and I’m not sure if it comes naturally or if it’s a result of compensating for being blind. Either way, it doesn’t matter, as long as she doesn’t slip.

She steps across the loose bark, squeezing my shoulder to steady herself, then brings the other foot forward.

“Are we good?” she asks breathlessly.

“We’re good.”

Even though the rest of the tree is narrower, it’s not as tricky to navigate and it doesn’t take us long to reach shore.

Tane, who’s still on the other side of the river and has been waiting for us to get here before venturing onto the log, starts across.

I point to that dicey section of bark and yell for him to be careful. He flags a couple fingers to me that he’s good.

He’s moving smoothly, confidently, his boxing and martial arts training giving him poise and a steady sense of balance.

When he reaches the rotten bark, he agilely steps over it.

But then it happens.

Abruptly.

All in one terrible moment.

When Alysha and I walked across, we must have loosened up a larger section of bark, because as Tane puts his weight on it, a strip nearly four feet long rips off.

His foot shoots out from under him, throwing him backward. He smacks hard against the log and tries to grab it, but can’t manage, and drops sideways toward the river.

As soon as he hits the surface, the water swallows him.

And he’s gone.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

“What is it?” Alysha is holding my forearm. Her voice is urgent, and I realize that with the sound of the water rushing past, even with her acute hearing, she didn’t catch the sound of Tane splashing into the river. “You just tensed up, Daniel. What’s happening?”

“He fell in.”

“Oh my God.”

I’m staring anxiousl
y
at the water, but he hasn’t come up.

“Can you see him?”

“No. Not yet.”

I place her hand on the tree branch, then ease her leg forward to make sure she’s on solid ground. All the while, I’m scanning the surface for any sign of Tane.

“Daniel, is he . . . ?”

“He hasn’t come up yet.”

Then, all at once his hand splashes out of the water halfway between where we are and the narrow chute that channels down fifteen feet deeper into the gorge.

A second later, his head appears, but then immediately goes under again.

It’s enough to give me hope, though.

“I’m going to get him.”

“Did he come up?”

“Yeah. He’s alright.”

“Don’t lie to me.” She’s an expert at reading people’s tone of voice. “Don’t lie to—”

“Stay here. You’ll be safe. I’ll be right back.”

Then I get moving, noting where I am so I can find her when I return.

With Tane.

When you return with Tane.

Using the sinewy rhododendron branches for support, I make my way along the riverbank, being careful that I don’t slip in myself.

As I come to the place where the water funnels down, I’m forced to grab handholds in the rock face and downclimb a few feet. To keep from dislocating m
y
shoulder again, I do m
y
best to let m
y
weight hang on the other arm, but still, the pain is fierce ever
y
time I move that bad shoulder.

Only then does it hit me that I left my sling back on the other side of the river, draped on a branch next to the log we walked across.

Deal with that later.

Just find Tane.

Wet and moss-covered, the route is dicey, but the outcroppings give me just enough purchase to keep my feet on the rock.

By the time I get to the bottom, I have no idea how far the current might have taken him.

I figure I need to look, though, at least for a few minutes.

I can’t just give up right away.

Yes.

With Tane.

You’ll return with Tane.

After taking Petra to the fourth floor, Sergei and Deedee had shoved her roughly into one of the rooms and locked the door behind her.

She’d hollered out what she thought she should say. “Why are you doing this? Why did you bring me here!”

They hadn’t replied.

She’d listened to their receding footsteps, and when the two of them were gone, she removed that wire handle from under her shirt.

And started looking for a way to get free.

Whoever owned this place was remodeling it and the room wasn’t finished—but when she tried, she wasn’t able to break through the exposed drywall.

An old metal radiator sat beside one wall, but she couldn’t budge it.

She tried inserting the tip of the wire into the lock on the doorknob, but it didn’t fit.

Her attention shifted to the window.

She studied the clasp that held it shut. It was screwed securely in place: When she tried to twist the mechanism, she couldn’t get the latch to open by her grip-strength alone.

But maybe if she had more leverage?

There was a small hole at the top of it.

She passed one end of the wire through the hole in the hasp, bent it over, and tried getting enough torque to twist the latch and unlock the window.

I see something ahead of me near the shore in an eddy formed by a massive boulder.

A lump in the water.

Tane’s back.

He’s floating facedown.

No, no, no.

I scramble down the bank.

Though I don’t really have any way of knowing how deep the water is here, I need to get to him.

If the boulder wasn’t this close, I’d be out of luck, but the current is curling back toward the rock. That’s what drew his body here. And that’s what’ll keep me from being swept downstream.

At least I hope it will.

I drop into the water.

Knee-deep.

With my first step, I almost lose my balance on the slick, rocky bottom.

Carefully, I move forward.

The water is up to the middle of my thighs now, but I’m almost to him.

I lean farther out and reach for him.

After a couple of unsuccessful tries, I’m finally able to snag his arm, but as I try to maneuver him to shore, the water tugs at him.

I lean back, and at last the current gives up its grip on him and he drifts toward me.

I’m not sure how I’ll get him out of the water, but before worrying about that, I need to get some air into his lungs.

I’ve never been trained as a lifeguard so I’m not sure what I’m officially supposed to be doing, but I know that I need to get him breathing again as fast as possible. I know that much.

With his size, it isn’t easy, but steadying myself as best I can, I roll him over so he’s face-up.

His color has faded and his lips are blueish.

Just like the blur in the attic when you saw that body lying there, dead.

But then it came back to life—and he will too.

He will too.

Praying he’ll be alright, I cradle him in my arms and give him a rescue breath.

Last winter you drowned in Lake Superior.

You went through the ice and Kyle had to save you.

Dead, then back to life.

First you.

Now Tane.

The river tries to draw him away from me, but I manage to keep him in place long enough to give him another mouthful of air.

I take a step closer to shore, pulling him with me, and I’m leaning down to offer him more air when I feel his body convulse.

His eyes snap open. He jerks and then coughs, spewing out a gush of water as he rolls out of my arms and tries unsuccessfully to get to his feet.

“It’s okay! You’re okay!” I almost fall over as I try to get him into the shallower water.

He manages to stand up, but can’t keep his footing and ends up grabbing my left arm for support.

Pain thrashes through me.

“No! Tane!”

He immediately realizes what he did and lets go as I offer him my other arm.

Dizzy.

Control it.

Easy, easy, easy.

I’m just glad the shoulder didn’t pop out of its socket again. With that much pressure, it easily could have.

We climb up the bank to where the ground is level.

While I let my shoulder recover, he slumps to the forest floor to catch his breath. Finally he says, “Man, that was not fun.”

“I know the feeling.”

“You’ve drowned?”

“Once. Yeah.”

“And obviously somebody brought you back.”

“My friend did.”

“So did mine.” He clasps my hand and I help him to his feet. “Thanks.”

Thunder rolls through the gorge. “We should probably get moving.”

As we start back toward Alysha, he suddenly pats his pockets and curses.

“What is it?”

“That radio the pilot gave me—it’s gone.”

“Forget it.” I confirm that the flashlight is still jammed in my pocket, then I gesture upstream. “Let’s go. If we hurry we can still make it to the Estoria in time.”

At his home in Beldon, Wisconsin, Sheriff Byers evaluated things.

Although earlier in the day he’d looked into taking a flight down to Atlanta, it would’ve required a three-hour drive to the Twin Cities first, and right now it seemed like he was making more progress than he would’ve been able to while either driving or flying.

So he’d changed his plans.

Working discreetly through his law enforcement contacts, he’d been able to use the data that Daniel’s source had provided regarding the convergence of 911 calls and the passing trains in the South to search for white minivans with that plate number passing through nearby traffic cameras.

Now, he received a call that a traffic cam in Knoxville had caught footage of the minivan in question, less than a quarter mile from a railroad crossing, not long before an ambulance was dispatched to the area.

A quick search told him that one of the addresses in a nearby neighborhood was listed under the name “Sergei
Gorshkov.”

“Sergei” was one of the names Daniel had told him to keep an eye out for.

Daniel had warned him about the deadline and about contacting the authorities, but if someone’s life really was in danger, they needed to find her—otherwise what was the point of the search?

Time was running out.

Just thirty-six minutes until nine o’clock.

He called the Knoxville Police Department’s chief, filled him in as much as he could about Sergei’s possible involvement in a kidnapping.

He wasn’t sure if it would be enough to convince him to send a car to check out the address.

But it was.

Sheriff Byers hung up.

And waited to hear back from the chief.

After we regroup with Alysha, the three of us find the trail that leads up to the old hotel.

Al
ys
ha does an amazing job of navigating along the path and we make up for lost time.

Around us, a heavy mist has started to form. Tendrils of fog wander among the trees, shifting and stirring in the breeze as if they were living creatures.

The Smoky Mountains.

Now I see why that name makes sense.

The shaded line of gray from the rain along the storm’s front obscures the mountains that lie beyond it.

As the wind picks up, I see our chopper rise from Spider Peak and shoot across the valley.

“There he goes,” Tane says. “I guess the storm is almost here.”