Echoes of the Past (33 page)

He chuckled and took a sharp breath. “I’ll just
hang around here.”

She worked her way back across the room. Her
fingers and toes were almost numb.
I will
not die in here
. She repeated the litany as she made her way back to the
corner.

She stubbed her toe on a crate. Pain flashed up
her foot to her leg. The wooden case contained eleven wine bottles. The bottle
on the beach must have come from here. No wonder it had been collected. Lindsay
must have had it inside the jacket, and it had become dislodged when the bodies
had washed ashore. Now that she knew Aaron had been drugged with scopolamine,
she understood what had happened and why he had no memory of his death.

She removed the bottles from the case and lifted
the case in her arms. The bottom was solid, and the case was deeper than she’d
expected. She put it down again and held one bottle against the side. There was
almost two inches of space between the top and the bottle. She put the bottle
in the case. It reached the top.
False bottoms?
Even
allowing for the thickness of the wood, it was too large a discrepancy. She
carried her prize back across the
room,
the distance
seeming farther than it had been on her earlier trips. She noticed she’d
stopped quaking. Not a good sign.

“I’m on my way back.” No comment. “Tony?” She
heard the panic in her voice.

“Just taking a break, pretty
lady.”

Michelle followed his voice to his side. She
removed the bottle from the case and turned it upside down.

“Bend your knees,” she ordered as she slipped the
case under him. “Now put your feet down and stand. Be careful.”

Tony followed her orders to the letter, the drug
in his system making him vulnerable to suggestion. The box provided the
leverage he needed to unhook his hands, and she reached out to him before he
could fall. She helped him off the box and laid him on the floor.

“Let me have a look at you. I may be a
pathologist, but I’ve patched up a few live ones over the years.”

Cracked and broken ribs ranked among the most
painful of injuries. If the rib was cracked, it wasn’t as bad as if it were
broken. A broken rib had sharp jagged edges, which could easily puncture nearby
organs including the lungs. Michelle undid the wet jacket and ran her hands
along the cold, dry flannel shirt beneath it. His waterproof jacket, like hers,
had kept his torso dry. Given the way he’d been hit, she focused on the middle
ribs on his left side. The seventh and eighth ribs were tender.

“The good news is nothing’s broken, but it’ll hurt
like the dickens. There isn’t anything I can do to help you though. You need
painkillers, and I’m fresh out. You have to try to breathe deeply; otherwise,
you’ll catch pneumonia.”

“Assuming I survive whatever else our friends have
in store for us.”

She clenched her teeth and spoke fiercely. “I love
you, Tony Steele. Don’t you dare die on
me.
”

“Ditto, Michelle Thomas.”

She moved her hands along his face and found his
swollen mouth. She placed a gentle kiss on it, erasing the memory of Ron’s lips
on hers.

“Lift your hands, and I’ll chew through the
bindings. We can snuggle. You’ll be more comfortable in a different position,
and we may be warmer.”

He chuckled and gasped at the pain it must have
caused. “You can gnaw through plastic? Remind me not to let those teeth of
yours near anything vital.”

She tried to laugh at his attempted humor, but she
was too scared. She’d noticed, like her, he’d stopped shivering. She frowned.
How much longer before their systems would start to shut down?

Chapter Seventeen

Michelle was tired. Staying awake was a chore. She
was comfortable, much warmer now, tucked up against Tony’s back listening to
his labored breathing.
It’s almost over.
She
blinked her sleepy eyes.
Here they come
now.
An unearthly white light appeared in the cooler and moved toward them.
The light hovered above them.

I wanted to
live. I wanted to save the lake. I didn’t want to die like this.
She
yawned.

We’re here
to help you.

Michelle giggled.
Auditory hallucinations, that’s different.

The light dropped down and seared her. Heat filled
her, replacing the bone-chilling cold
.
She
was suddenly alert. The light rose above her and moved closer to Tony.

Roll away
from him.
Unable to disobey, she moved immediately.

The light covered Tony, and she heard him gasp.

“Stop, you’re hurting him.”

The light filled him a few moments longer, and he
glowed. The brightness rose above them. Michelle realized her thoughts were
clearer. The last thing she’d expected was lucidity at the moment of death.

He sleeps
now.
Rest.

Sleep pulled at her. She cuddled closer to Tony
whose breathing seemed easier. They were dying. She felt a tear trickle down
her cheek. She forced her eyes open, but their death chamber was as dark as it
had always been.

* * * *

The sound of the door opening roused her from the
deep sleep, but as if in a dream, Michelle seemed powerless to fully awaken. It
was as if her spirit were watching the events unfold.
I’m dead.

Three men entered the locker. Mendez
pick
her up off the floor, and slung her over his shoulder
like a rag doll. She felt nothing. Jerome carried Tony the same way. They left
the meat locker, crossed the slaughterhouse floor, and entered a small office. Jim
walked over to the phone on the wall, lifted the receiver and dialed
three-six-nine-one-one. The wall slid open revealing a staircase.

The staircase led to a storage facility converted
into a lab every bit as professional as any you’d find at a major
pharmaceutical company. Two technicians, dressed in hazmat gear attended to the
various beakers, flasks, tubing, and the rest. This was a large scale
operation, far more involved than anything she’d imagined. It was well established
and must produce several ounces of the illegal drug every day. Large yellow drums
marked
biohazard
sat near the far
wall.

“Let’s get those drums loaded and get out of here.”
Jim spoke to the technicians before pressing a red button on the wall revealing
a pocket door.

Mendez followed Jim out onto the lakeshore and carried
her over to the gator, its four trailers empty. He threw her unceremoniously
into the first one. Jerome dropped Tony in beside her.

The men lifted the barrels of bio waste into the
other three trailers. Jim slipped back inside the building, but returned
moments later carrying a boat anchor attached to a chain. He placed it beside Tony.
One of the techs dropped a similar anchor at her feet.

“They’re not going to wash up on the beach this
time.”

The gator’s engine started, and Michelle was
surprised to feel the floor of the trailer vibrate as the vehicle slowly made
its way along the shore.

“Are you okay?”

The sound of Tony’s clear, strong voice startled
her.
We’re both dead.

She turned to face him, but before she could say
anything, he moved his head and captured her lips in a hungry, desperate kiss.
The fear and longing she’d felt poured from her, and she responded with
everything in her. His tongue teased its way into her mouth, and she welcomed
the invasion. If they could kiss like this, feel like this, in the spirit
realm, being dead might not be so bad. They’d have eternity together.

He slowly pulled away.

“I don’t know what you did, but I feel fine. My
ribs don’t even hurt. We’re going to get out of this. Those bastards will pay
for what they’ve done, and what they’re doing to this lake.”

“Your ribs don’t hurt because we’re dead.”

He chuckled. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s true. I saw a bright light, felt warm, and
heard someone say they were there to help.
A spirit helping
me cross
, perhaps. The light filled you, and then I died.”

“I don’t think you did. When we get out of here, I’ll
prove to you just how alive we are.”

“I saw the meth lab.

“I know. I saw it too, and we’ll get them. Don’t
ask me how I know, I just do.”

The gator slowed. Tony kissed her quickly and then
pulled away. The vehicle stopped. Michelle heard the men grunt and groan as
they loaded the barrels aboard the pontoon boat.

We must be
back where they found us.

Jim came over and picked her up out of the
trailer. He carried her to the pontoon boat, and she felt a steel manacle
fastened around her ankle. Pain seared her head. She wanted to kick and fight,
but her legs wouldn’t obey.

Tony’s
wrong. We’re dead.
They’re going to anchor
our bodies to the bottom of the lake.

She looked into his beautiful face, still swollen
from the beating he’d received, and he smiled and winked.
Definitely dead.
She thought she
heard giggling.

The small engine started. Anyone hearing it would assume
it was a four-wheeler. The boat moved out to the center of the lake. She
watched as Jim and Mendez pushed barrel after barrel of the poisonous waste
into the water. She looked at Tony and mouthed the words,
I love you.
Jim picked her up.

“Damn.” He laughed softly. “You’ve gained weight,
Doctor.” He tossed her into the water, but instead of cold, she felt as if a
bubble of warmth enfolded her. The anchor pulled her down.
Of course.
Since we’re already dead, we can’t die again.
The sensation was
rather pleasant. She heard the giggling again.

We told you
no harm would come to you.
The voice was the same as the one she’d heard
earlier.
You know who is to blame for the
sacrilege, and you must punish them. We will bear you safely to the beach. We
could not save the other two. Sadly, it was their time, but your souls belong
to us, and we release you.

Michelle felt the anchor slip off her ankle. She
turned and Tony was in the bubble with her, but his eyes were closed.
No. Don’t leave me!

* * * *

Michelle choked and coughed. Every part of her
body ached, and her lungs burned as if they’d been deprived of oxygen.

“She’s coming around.”

She recognized the voice. She opened her eyes. The
full moon had
risen
high in the sky. She looked at the
man holding her. Joseph Smoke stood knee-deep in the marsh.

“Am I dead?”

She certainly hoped not. The thought of spending
eternity in pain had no appeal. She stared at the elderly man dressed in hip
waders and fishing clothes.

“No, Doctor. You’re alive. The Sisters sent me to
you.” Another man she didn’t recognized wrapped her in a wool blanket. Her
teeth chattered, and she shivered.

Suddenly she remembered Tony. She looked around
for him. “Dr. Steele was with me. Do you see him?”

“He’s already in the van. He has a couple of
bruised ribs, but he’s breathing well. Now, we’re taking you to safety.
Rest.
Your task is almost done. You’ve done well. The
Sisters are pleased.”

* * * *

The sun was shining brightly when Michelle opened
her eyes. She was lying on a couch in a small room. She stretched and looked at
her arm as it came out of the sleeping bag. It was covered by a red, plaid
flannel sleeve edged with white lace at the cuff—not a garment she owned. She
sat up quickly, momentarily disoriented.

Where am I?

Her body was sore, probably the aftereffects of
the cold. She got up, moved to the door, and opened it. She limped down the
small hallway toward the sound of muted voices and the smell of coffee. She
stopped in the doorway and stared at the three men sitting at the table. A pregnant
woman stood at the stove stirring a pot.

Joseph Smoke sat there eating breakfast. He turned
to her and smiled.

“Good morning, Doctor. How did you sleep? I’m
sorry we didn’t have another bed to give you. I’m Maggie. Would you like some
coffee?”

“Please.”

She turned to the men at the table. Chad sat
across from Joseph next to a young man who seemed familiar.

“Where’s Tony?” She knew her anxiety gave her
voice an edge.

Joseph smiled. “He’s resting comfortably. My son
Andrew,” he pointed to the young man, “is a paramedic. He’s had a look at him. He
took a beating, but nothing is broken. He has a couple of slightly bruised
ribs. He has quite the bump on his head too. He’ll be fine. We’ll wake him when
the rest of the team arrives.”

Andrew smiled at her. “How does your head feel? I
put seven stitches in the back of it this morning. You must have an incredibly
tough skull, Dr. Thomas. That blow should have killed you. I’ll check you over
for signs of concussion. I wanted to do it earlier, but Dad said to let you
rest. If you weren’t awake in half-an-hour, I was going to wake you up.”

She frowned. When had she been hit on the head? She
closed her eyes. Her mind quickly replayed the images.

They’d been aboard the pontoon boat, and just
before her leg had been shackled, she’d felt tremendous pain. That’s why she’d
been unable to fight Jim. They’d done the same to Aaron! He’d been knocked
unconscious to ensure he couldn’t swim, float, or somehow make it from the
center of the lake to shore.

She lifted her hand to the back of her head. The
stitches were exposed, and she could feel them. She vaguely remembered a bubble
of warmth—bleeding in the brain? How had she gotten to shore? Andrew was
speaking to her, and she focused on his words.