Pitfall (19 page)

Chet.

Obviously he was hurting from where I’d kicked him, but not so badly he hadn’t been able to reach out and snag my foot as I’d gone past. Well, if he liked it so much he could have it. So as hard as I could, I kicked him right on top of his head.

When my boot heel connected he yelped once, and his eyes fluttered closed. If and when Chet woke up this time, he’d have a newsworthy headache to match his sore throat.

The throbbing of my hand felt like a blood pressure cuff being worked by a sadist. Stumbling to my feet, I’d just located the door again when to my dismay I saw Blakey had gotten up. He looked less than pleased. In three running steps he cut me off from the exit.

“Pretty good, funny man,” he panted, hot rage filling his face. “Only you just screwed yourself. You’re an escaped prisoner now. And that makes you mine.”

“Come on, Blakey, this isn’t a fair fight, and you know it. Just look at what Boneless did to me.” Thrusting my left hand out, I wagged it at him.

And don’t you know he looked.

Again.

Lancing out my right fist, middle knuckle extended, I caught him dead on his Adam’s apple, “right in the googler,” as my Granny would say. He grabbed his throat as his tongue lolled, disbelieving eyes bulging. A split-second later the same fist tore like a pile driver into his jaw. He fell straight to the floor like a dead tree, gone like a New Year’s promise.

I couldn’t help it. Pointing at his prone form I laughed, “Twice!
Twice!”
Sucking at my knuckles, I shook my head. “Blakey Sinclair, you are one dumb son of a gun.”

Once more I started to go when something stopped me. I was missing something here, something vital. Then I realized what it was. Evidence. How many deaths were the Crosses were accountable for? And without proof, how would anyone ever know? 

Marsh had been right, of course. What I’d copied at the Brighter Day Clinic had gotten me here, but would hold zero weight in court. Assuming I managed to get Sarah free with both our skins intact I’d still need something solid exposing these two sociopaths as serial killers. Without that proof Eli would simply button the place up tight and claim I was crazy. And who would the authorities be more likely to believe, a well-liked and stand-up citizen, or a former soldier on the take? No extra points for guessing.

What I was after had to be something incontrovertible, as well as easy to carry. Almost of their own volition my eyes were drawn to the two-way mirror. Having been trained in interrogation techniques, I knew there was only one reason it was here. Without thinking I strode over, picked up one of the Morris chairs, and heaved it through.

The noise was horrendous. When the glass had stopped falling like crystal rain, I looked in. As I’d thought, on the other side was a room full of computers and recording gear, all presently dead due to the power crash. A similar setup is the norm when interrogating prisoners; I’d seen them and used them, but I’d bet Eli’s purpose was worse. Entertainment for rainy evenings, perhaps?

Gingerly I climbed up and over, stopping at the first computer I came to. It was as dead as the rest, but I knew what I was after. Some disks, any disks. Forget for the time being what evil was occurring in the rest of GeneSys: human torture will get the attention of any cop.

Grabbing two of them from a plastic box on a nearby table, I slipped them into my pants pocket. Whatever they held would have to do. Retracing my steps, my go bag was nowhere to be found, and I didn’t have time to look, so forget it. I pulled Blakey’s key card off his belt and shoved it my pocket too. Then retrieving my guns and extra clips from the floor, I shoved them into my waistband.

And ran.

Chapter Twenty-five

I
didn’t get far.

As soon as I reached the hallway, my throbbing body reminded me I was hurt, badly. I glanced down at my left hand. No change there, big shock. Through all my gyrations of the last few minutes, the four fingers were still pointed skyward. If I ran into any more trouble, that would be a problem. Only I really didn’t want to do what I knew I should to get them lying flat again. Really did
not.

I sighed, resigned. Come on; don’t think about it, that makes it harder, just do it. As my DI always said, pain is temporary; you simply push through it. Without another second’s hesitation I grabbed those fingers with my right hand and snapped them hard into place.

Sweet God. I almost bit through my lip on that one. I could taste the hot coppery blood in my mouth as I fell against the wall, my mad-dancing vision swirling. And then back beyond the pain I heard something, a voice from my youth floating by. It was my Granny, waxing philosophic: “Be a man, John. It’ll feel better when it quits hurtin’.”

I almost laughed in spite of the pounding. How could you argue with that?

My hand and fingers were swollen and banging like Indian tom-toms, but cautiously I flexed them. They still hurt like thundering hell and were slow to respond, but now were kind of useable. Which was good. I’d need every working body part I could muster.

With that assurance I started double-timing it down the hall. Then I stopped again, disoriented. Where was I, anyway? Looking up and around, I spotted a small sign mounted high up on the wall. Six West. That meant I was still on Level Six. So which way was the dorm? I had no idea, but if I could relocate the nurse’s station, I could get my bearings.

Flipping that mental coin one more time, I turned right and began trotting again. The biggest enemy now was time. Eli had said the place was lousy with sensors. I didn’t know if Marsh’s power dump had fried them, but I had to assume I was still being tracked. If that was true, my lifespan—and Sarah’s—might be measured in minutes.

Following the hallway I searched for something familiar. Anything. Twenty seconds later I found it. Dead ahead was the nurse’s station. I hoped they hadn’t replaced Nurse Mario just yet. Drawing close, I was about to find out.

That’s when I heard male voices, and it sounded like they were coming my way.

Without thinking I vaulted the counter and landed on something yielding. Yep, Nurse Mario. Why they’d just left him lying there was anyone’s guess. I’m sure all one hundred and seventy-five pounds of me smashing down on the man’s chest from four up feet didn’t do him any good, but Mario didn’t even grunt. He was still out.

Or was he dead?

Quietly I checked his beefy neck. There was a pulse there, weak but steady.

The voices were getting closer. They approached and then stopped. If whoever they were chanced a look over the counter, I was toast. One was an older man’s, with a faintly Germanic tone. Doctor Ernst Manfred; I’d have bet my car on that. The other one I didn’t recognize.

Manfred was speaking. “All these electrical problems, Bradley. They’re driving me mad. We finished tonight’s procedure just in time.”

My nose began to tingle, just as it’d done back in Manfred’s office. No question of it, it was the good doctor himself I was allergic to. If I sneezed now … well, I just couldn’t sneeze, and that’s all there was to it. Especially with a broken nose.

Pinching my nose tightly shut, I tried thinking soothing thoughts while at the same time straining to see if either man was going to say anything important.

“I hope we never lose power while we’re doing a procedure,” the other one—Bradley—replied. “That would be a disaster.”

“If a certain skinny psychotic wouldn’t constantly overload the circuits to drive his ridiculous scanners, there would be electricity enough for all.”

Bradley spoke in a hush tone tinged with fear. “You really ought to be more careful with what you say.”

“Bah. You and I are too vital to fear repercussion. But these scanners? What purpose do they serve? Eli’s beloved machines are once again off-line, as are our computers. All that’s functioning are the emergency lights. And their dimness hurts my eyes. But does Cross the Younger care? He does not. He would rather waste his time torturing some idiot. Bradley, I tell you it’s madness. No good can come of this.”

If the other man made any reply, I missed it as both of them turned and walked out of range. I blew out a silent, relieved breath. With Manfred and his freaking pheromones leaving the vicinity, so did the irritation of my sinuses. And I’d picked up some good news. The outage had affected the security systems. If they only stayed down a while longer, Sarah and I could make good our escape. That was a big if, though. I was in trouble, and the equation was stark: if I died, Eli won.

I waited another full minute to make sure both men didn’t return, and then reaching in my pants pocket, I pulled out the disks I’d stolen, careful not to pull out the card too. Then it hit me: what if they were blank? I sincerely hoped not. And they needed to be stashed somewhere. If I didn’t make it out of here, somebody had to be able to find them.

Slowly standing up, I looked around for a good, inconspicuous spot. Nothing immediately presented itself until I noticed a smoked gray plastic box up on top of Nurse Mario’s desk, next to his computer. Lifting the lid, I found it to be half full of identical disks, only these probably just held patient information. I jammed mine in with them.

Then looking over, I saw the phone.

Obviously it was working; three of the red lights arranged horizontally on the bottom were illuminated. Could I chance it? Picking up the receiver I pressed nine, getting an outside line. Quickly I punched in the number I knew by heart, and squatted down out of sight. The line wasn’t good, full of static. On the other end I heard four rings, five, six and again Seth’s voicemail came on. Unbelievable. Where
was
he?

I let the outgoing message finish, and whispered, “Seth, are you there? It’s John. Pick up.” I waited. Nothing. In a rush of words I gave him my location, where I’d put the disks, and what I hoped was on them. Now if I ended up in the Pit, at least my knowledge wouldn’t die with me. Fifteen seconds later I was done, and cautiously replaced the receiver.

I waited another minute, listening intently, before I stood again and started moving quickly down the hall. In just a few steps I was back at the dorm. Taking a quick side-to-side glance and detecting no movement, I slipped Blakey’s keycard into the slot. It opened.

And I hesitated.

What if someone had laid a trap? Well, what if they had? I didn’t have time to figure a way around it. Besides, I’d already been blown up and left for dead in Iraq; things don’t get much nastier than that.

So I just walked straight in.

The room didn’t explode in fire and ruin. Nothing happened at all. Truth be told, it was as if the previous events of the evening had never happened. The girls, including Sarah, were all fast asleep in their beds. Kneeling down, I gently placed my hand over her mouth. She didn’t stir. I shook her softly. Nothing.

Boneless had obviously given her something strong, and my escape scheme had just gotten more complicated. Plan A had been that when the time came, Sarah would be able to travel with me under her own steam, and I wouldn’t have to haul her out. Not anymore. But these were the cards I’d been dealt; I’d have to play them.

Rocking back to a crouch, effortlessly I lifted her from the bed and stood, slinging her over my left shoulder in a fireman’s carry. As I did, her knee brushed against the burns on by chest, nearly making me yelp. But I didn’t.

Reaching the door, I fumbled a bit getting Blakey’s key card out of my right pants pocket. Thankfully I managed to do it without dumping Sarah on the floor. Then slipping the card into its slot, I watched the door as it slid back. I stepped with her into the hallway.

And came face-to-face with Albert Trask.

Unbelievable. Was it always this hard to leave this room?

I went into pure reflex mode. Pivoting sharply, I swung Sarah’s legs hard across Albert’s head, from left to right. He grunted with the impact, but was wicked quick in shaking off the blow as he made a diving tackle at my gut, connecting with me like a concrete truck ramming a bridge abutment. As he did I felt two ribs on my right side crack, and the sensation was like I’d just been punched by knives. We all three went down in a tangle of limbs, Sarah somehow rolling free, still out.

Albert was the first to recover his footing, launching a vicious kick toward my face. I was barely able to pull away from his shoe as it whistled past my nose. That was close.

I didn’t have time to ponder my luck. Listing to the side and groaning as I scrambled to my feet, I found to my dismay Albert had pulled a fast one. Instead of following through with me, he’d grabbed the girl. He wrenched her upright and slapped her hard across the face twice with the palm and then the back of his hand, causing her to whimper like a three-year-old in the throes of a nightmare.

My blood instantly boiled, my words like hardened steel: “Albert, if you hope to live to see the next five seconds, you’d best put her down.”

His only reply was a mirthless smile as he whipped out his gun. It took a moment to register that what he was holding so tightly against Sarah’s head was a Glock 23.

Understanding fell like a hammer. “So that’s it. You’re not just a townie pulling a paycheck. You’re one of Boneless’s special boys.”

He nodded. “I told you, Mr. Cross has been good to me. He won’t be happy that you escaped. But I’ll fix it.”

“I’ll just bet you will.”

“See, a while ago he promoted me in secret, asking me to keep him posted on who’s saying what.”

“Who’s saying what? Did you even graduate from elementary school?”

He raised the gun a millimeter. “Careful.”

“And I’ll bet you were the one who dropped the dime on that other guard, Buddy Mordetti.” He didn’t answer. “Did you get off on it?” Slowly I began edging my way around to Albert’s right as I talked, my head pounding in time with my heart as I pushed through the dizziness. All the while I kept a sharp eye on his handgun. “You’re an informer,” I pressed as I moved. “The lowest kind of man, just a cheap hood. You’re quite a piece of work, sport.”

“Thanks.” His grin was twisted. “And you can stop right there.”

By then Sarah had come around, and she looked at me. “I know you …” Her brown eyes opened wide as the horror struck home. She rolled them fearfully toward the gun at her skull, and then at me. “Help me …” She sounded awful. Little girl lost.

I stared back hard, hoping to visually drive my words home in her drug-fogged mind. “Hang tough, girl. This isn’t over yet.”

Her captor’s laugh was harsh. “That’s right, man. You tell her. Word is she’s some kind of a New Age chick. You might have her send up a mantra that I don’t paint the walls with her brains.”

“Best let her go, Albert.” My throat felt packed with grit. “Otherwise I see a toe tag looming large in your future.”

“Strong words. But let’s all take a break. Maybe you can help me out here.”

“Help you?” My tone held a disbelieving snarl. “Right.”

It was as if he hadn’t heard. “Since I have one hand around this girl’s mighty fine waist, and since the other is holding my gun against her sweet head, that leaves me with a problem.”

“That’s true, you do have a problem. Me.”

Again he ignored that. “Here’s the thing. Earlier the battery on my communicator went down, so how’s about us all heading into the operating room?”

I scowled. “Why should I do that?”

“Because,” he answered, the very tone of reason, “I need you to push the button.”

“
What
button?”

He sighed like I was a moron. “At the back of the operating room is an emergency alarm, with a big button on it. I need you to push that while I keep Sarah covered.”

I remained stone-faced, waiting for my chance. “You know, it’s amazing you’ve kept your job for as long as you have because you’d have to be a world-class fool to think I’d call in an alarm on myself.”

“Makes no difference to me. I’ll just use my elbow to do it. Of course when I do I might accidentally twitch and shoot this pretty thing and wouldn’t that be an awful shame?” He motioned at me with his head. “Come on, man, don’t just stand there. When I move, you move. And if I find you getting out of my line of sight, that’ll upset me to no end.” Albert began walking backward down the hall, his grip on Sarah firm.

I didn’t have a choice. The guy obviously was as unstable as plutonium. If it had just been the two of us this contest would have already ended, in my favor. But it wasn’t, so I did as he said.

The three of us slowly started making our way down the curving metallic hall, Albert and Sarah awkwardly moving backwards, me favoring my right side as I followed at a discreet distance. With every intake of air the pain from my ribs stabbed like a lance. Thirty feet of that, and we found ourselves approaching an open door.

“Good thing it was already slid back,” I said. “I wouldn’t have done it for you.”

The other man grinned again. “Of course it was. Where do you think I was coming from when we ran into each other?”

“From in there? Why? What’s the attraction?”

“You’ll find out. Sometimes I get to watch.”

“Watch what? Make sense.”

“The operations,” he said. “After tonight’s procedure I had cleanup duty. One of the other guys was supposed to get the body, but he was late, and I figured who cares, I’ve done my part. I was just on my way to the dorm for some after work fun, like I do most nights, when you had to go and spoil it.”

I pushed down the rage that threatened to boil over. “Fun?”

“Yeah, the girls here are kept so woozy I can do about anything I like to them.” He laughed and licked Sarah’s face. “That is, as long as Boneless doesn’t find out.”

I felt my fists contract but didn’t trust myself to answer.

“I don’t think he’d appreciate me getting some tail for myself,” he went on. “I just wish the guy would ease up on their meds a bit. I mean, sometimes it’s too easy, you know?” Then he said to Sarah, “Isn’t that right, sweet-meat?”

I spoke through clenched teeth. “Albert, I don’t say this often. But you’re a tough man to like.”

His fake breezy manner cooled. “You don’t have to like me. Just do as I say.” He jerked Sarah off her feet, half-dragging her over her weakening protestations into the operating room. I wasn’t far behind.

I was ready to start verbally taunting Albert again, hoping to distract his attention from the girl, when suddenly the plant’s main power systems picked that exact moment to come back on. The dim lights grew cheery bright.

And what I saw illuminated in them made me stop, filling me with pity and revulsion even as I stared in mute, disbelieving horror. My blood iced during that long and terrible silence.

In front of me squatted a stainless steel table. On it was what was left of a girl who couldn’t have been more than eighteen. Huge puncture marks, probably from where bone marrow had been drawn, peppered her limbs. Large strips of flesh had been peeled away, leaving her mostly skinned. Her head had been scalped, and her eyes were gone, obviously to be used later, the red and empty sockets staring up at nothing. From the child’s clavicle to her pubic bone she’d been hollowed out like a canoe. I’m no stranger to violent death. But this …