Splinter (The Machinists Book 2) (17 page)

Nyla continued to monitor Mason, periodically calling for Allyn and Ren to rest. Mason had grown worse. His skin burned hot with fever, and he’d grown restless, tossing about in the litter and making Allyn and Ren’s task more difficult. Nyla had retied the tourniquet around Mason’s thigh and continued to clean his leg by having Ren use fire to melt snow and drip warm water across the wound. She occasionally took over the pulling duties for Ren or Allyn, but Allyn preferred her to stay with Mason. Nyla might have been able to do his job, but he couldn’t do hers.

Allyn kept his head down, focusing on his individual steps and not the number he had left. He didn’t want to look up. It was like looking down from something very high; it just made him uncomfortable. Even the short distance felt overwhelming.

So, focused on his feet, Allyn didn’t see the magi assembling at the top of the hill until Ren and Nyla hooted in relief. He followed their gaze until he saw the party waiting for them. Brandt and Rory had already broken from the group and were dashing down the hillside to give them a hand. Allyn and Ren stopped and let the ropes drop. Allyn knew instantly that it was a mistake. He’d given in to his fatigue, and the powerful wave of exhaustion nearly dropped him.

“You found him,” Brandt said as he neared. “How is he?”

Allyn was too exhausted to speak.

“We need to get him inside,” Ren said.

“Let’s get him home then,” Brandt said. Allyn couldn’t tell if the man was relieved or angry. Probably a mixture of both—he and the remaining refugees had a stake in Mason’s well-being.

Brandt and Rory took the ropes and started up the hill. Allyn watched Mason pass by before taking his first step.

By the time Allyn reached the peak, Jaxon had arrived with Liam and Kendyl. Each wore a relieved expression and hit Allyn with an avalanche of questions. He ignored them, lumbering through the mass of people toward the cabin. His job was done—Leira, Vincent, and another cleric from the Hyland refugees were working with Nyla and seeing to Mason’s wounds.

Allyn’s body felt slow and unresponsive, and his vision had narrowed to a tight tunnel. Someone took his arm and slung it over their shoulder, and together, they circled the cabin. Kendyl. Once inside, she let Allyn crash onto the nearest bunk.
I should take my boots off,
he thought, but decided against it
—too much work.

“Onto your back,” Kendyl said, lifting his leg onto the bunk.

He groaned and rolled away from her.

She slapped him.

Allyn blinked and rolled back to face her, consciousness coalescing around his anger. His skin burned where she’d slapped him.

“I said roll onto your back.”

“You hit me.” It was equal parts question, statement, and accusation.

“You weren’t listening,” Kendyl said. “You still aren’t, so don’t make me do it again. Now roll onto your back
.
”

She slid off his boots and wet socks. They dropped to the floor with a solid
thud.
She pulled off his pants next then covered him with a blanket. “I’m going to get you something warm to drink. Whatever you do, don’t let yourself fall asleep. I think you’re suffering from hypothermia.”

As Kendyl disappeared into the kitchen, the cabin door opened, and a chill blew through the room, halting any progress he had made in regulating his body temperature.

“How is he doing?” Liam asked.

“We need to keep him awake.”

“I’ve got something for that.”

Liam appeared beside Allyn’s bunk a second later, computer in hand. His unsettling smile was too much teeth and not much else. “You better get well fast, Allyn.”

Allyn grunted something that might have been construed as a question.

“You’ve got a meeting with J.P. Niall tonight.”

Chapter 19

A
gent Maddox slammed the case file closed, feeling suddenly invigorated. He leaned back, contemplating the case. Had he really done it? Had Kaplan’s location been in front of his face the entire time? It all seemed to make sense. Most criminals were caught with family or friends, and since Kaplan was short on both, he’d resort to different methods. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t followed the pattern. He’d returned somewhere familiar, a place he felt was safe. And that might have been his critical mistake.

Maddox grabbed the case file and stepped out of the quiet office. He’d left the main floor of the field office to get away from Nolan’s incessant talking and commandeered one of the handful of vacant offices on the sixth floor. He enjoyed a little white noise while he worked, but he valued silence while he read.

As he stepped off the elevator on the third floor, Maddox quickly spotted Nolan huddled with a group of agents around Abernathy’s computer. When Nolan saw Maddox approach, his smile faded quickly, and he broke away from the group to meet him at his desk.

“You look satisfied,” Nolan said.

Maddox threw the case file onto his desk. “I found them.”

“You… what?” Nolan glanced at the case file then back to Maddox. “Where?”

“Kaplan has a family cabin on Mount Hood.”

“Maddox,” Nolan said mournfully, “we’ve already been over this. The police have already searched the cabin. Remember? Twice. And they didn’t find anything either time.”

“That was before we found Kaplan at the manor.” Maddox opened the case file and pulled out a history report. “Look at this. They sent officers to the cabin on the fourteenth and then again ten days later. But Kaplan wasn’t found until the twenty-ninth. It’s safe to assume that when the officers searched the cabin, Kaplan was at the manor, but after it burned, where did he go?”

Nolan sifted through the file. “It sounds too reckless,” he said. “He commits a serious crime and then hides in a family cabin that he knows we’ll search? It doesn’t add up.”

“You’re the one who always said that Kaplan doesn’t fit the profile.”

“That’s different. Kaplan is a highly educated man with a thriving career and an understanding of procedure. If he wanted to hide, he wouldn’t do so in a place that’s so vulnerable.”

“Not unless he had to,” Maddox said. “Where else would he go? He has no friends, no family, and we have his picture on every TV screen and computer monitor from Washington to Arizona. The cabin is familiar and isolated, two things our perp values.”

“I suppose,” Nolan said. “May I?” He gestured toward the computer.

“Go for it.”

Nolan sat down and pulled the keyboard close, then cursed when it prompted him to log in. He turned to Maddox. “You mind?”

Maddox typed in his information.

“You really should think about changing your password,” Nolan said.

“What do you mean?”

“Your ex-wife’s name combined with your birthday isn’t very secure.”

“You watched me type in my password?”

“I couldn’t help it,” Nolan said. “You type like a gorilla.” He made an exaggerated motion of someone typing with one finger.

“My fingers are too big for the keyboard.”

“Said no man, ever.” Nolan laughed and turned back to the computer. “What’s the cabin’s address?”

Maddox flipped through the file then set the information beside the keyboard so Nolan could see. Nolan’s fingers were a blur on the keyboard, his eyes on the Internet browser.

How can someone type without watching their fingers?

“You might be onto something,” Nolan pointed at the screen. The monitor displayed a topographical view of Portland and its surrounding areas, and a colored line traced a path from one point to another. “This is Kaplan’s condo.” Nolan indicated the first point. “His last known whereabouts. And this”—Nolan followed the path to the second point—“is the cabin. When you had me trace the traffic footage backward, we lost them somewhere around the I84, I205 intersection.” He circled that area on the map.

“That’s on the path,” Maddox said.

“Yes, it is.” Nolan leaned back, rubbing the stubble on his face. “If Kaplan had come from the cabin, he would have followed this path and hit every junction we’ve already connected him to.”

Maddox slapped the back of Nolan’s chair triumphantly. “Grab your coat.”

“You’re not really thinking of going out there tonight?”

“Of course I am.”

“Maddox, it’s nearly three hours away,” Nolan said. “Send the local PD.”

“They’ve already had their opportunity.”

“I’m not saying for them to apprehend them. Just drive by and see if the lights are on.”

Maddox hesitated. He was getting ahead of himself. Someone had helped Kaplan at the manor, and Maddox himself had spotted him with unknown associates. Kaplan had also shown he wasn’t afraid to use violence or risk innocent lives. Maddox would have been entering a potentially hot situation without a proper team. Not to mention, their evidence was little more than circumstantial. They needed something more concrete before the higher-ups would allow him to assemble the proper strike team. Even then, it would take hours.

“You’re right,” Maddox said. “Make the call. Have local PD drive by. But do not, I repeat, do not allow them to initiate contact. They are to remain in their car, on the road, as far from the cabin as possible. This may be our last chance to apprehend him, and I will not see it botched because of shoddy work.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make sure we don’t fuck this up.”

Chapter 20

T
he remainder of the evening inched by in a crawl. As soon as Nyla had said it was okay, Allyn fell into a fitful sleep, only to be woken by pain returning slowly to his body. His feet and calves had taken the worst abuse. What Allyn had thought were blisters on the bottoms of his feet were really just patches of raw, bloody skin. He walked tenderly on the sides of his feet, only to find that that put more stress on his cramping legs. His stomach rolled on itself, simultaneously hungry and tight, and the headache made it impossible to eat and keep it down. The little restless sleep he had gotten left him feeling worse.

Once, he’d woken to Nyla kneeling beside his bunk. She’d had her hand on him, but when she noticed he was awake, she promptly put him back under. When he awoke the next time, he thought that the pain had become a little more manageable, and it left him wanting to chastise Nyla. She was pushing herself too hard. They needed her more than they needed him. But he had a hard time criticizing someone for trying to help, especially when it left him feeling better.

Allyn still hadn’t returned to full health by the time he got up. But the day was quickly fading, and lying down hurt more than standing did.

Allyn found a pair of clean pants folded and tucked under his bunk, along with a compression top and dry socks. Once dressed, Allyn walked gingerly through the great room, stretching the knots in his feet and legs, trying to regain some flexibility in the rest of his body. Fortunately, the pressure in his chest had eased significantly, and breathing was no longer painful. He nodded to a pair of magi who sat at the table, sharing a cup of tea and a quiet conversation. They returned the gesture and went back to their private discussion.

It wasn’t until he walked into the kitchen that Allyn noticed the light in Jaxon’s room was on. Allyn filled a glass of water and went to check on him.

Jaxon’s door was pulled so only a crack of light escaped between the door and frame. Allyn heard the faint, rhythmic breathing of someone sleeping inside. He was about to turn back when the floor creaked. There was more than one person in the room. Allyn knocked quietly and, without waiting for a response, entered.

Jaxon sat on a chair beside the bed, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of his mouth. He looked at Allyn and straightened before turning his attention back on the man lying on his bed.

Mason was unconscious, his chest rising and falling softly. His milky-white skin glistened in the dim light. Makeshift straps made of belts and rope hung from the edges of the bed where they’d been tied to the frame, and Mason’s wrists and ankles were red where they’d been rubbed raw from fighting the binds. A bloody bandage covered the stump of his right leg.

Allyn’s face grew hot. Cold sweat sent a chill through his body. They hadn’t been fast enough. Allyn suddenly felt ashamed. His minor injuries were an irritant, nothing more than bumps and bruises. Mason had lost a
leg
. He would never be the same, never again able to do the things he’d done for nearly his entire life.

“They did everything they could.” Jaxon’s voice was soft. Somber. Allyn could hear the emotion that must be churning inside him.

“Does he know?”

Jaxon rubbed his forehead. “The pain was too intense for Leira to keep him under, and he was in and out of consciousness. There’s no telling what he knows.”

Allyn forced himself to look at the stump, swallowing the tightness in his throat. He’d seen too many wounds to be bothered by that anymore, but the thought of a man waking to find himself forever changed disturbed Allyn. Mason already had a chip larger than a continent on his shoulder.
What will become of him now?

“He nearly killed me in the process.” Jaxon held up his arms. His dark skin was freckled with large patches of pink and white skin—burns that had already been healed. Somewhere, a cleric was suffering from the pain and discomfort of treating the injury.

“Will he make it?” Allyn asked.

Jaxon stood with a sigh. “He should. Mason is the most stubborn man I’ve ever met. He may be slowed by the injury, but he won’t be stopped.”

“Is there any way I can help?”

“Mason will have to heal in his own way,” Jaxon said. “He’ll let us know what we can do.”

Allyn pinched his forehead between his thumb and index finger.

“I know that look,” Jaxon said.

“How’s that?”

“Because I see it every day in the mirror. It’s the look of guilt. And I’ll tell you the same thing everyone tells me—it’s not your fault.”

Does anyone else see his stress?
Allyn wondered.
The exhaustion? Do they even care?

Allyn pursed his lips. He knew he shouldn’t feel responsible for someone else’s actions, but he’d told Jaxon they could trust the Hyland refugees, and if it weren’t for that, Mason wouldn’t have been fighting for his life.

“It doesn’t make you feel any better, does it?”

“No,” Allyn said. “I learned at an early age that the things I do and say have repercussions. That if I wanted to take credit when things went right, I have to be willing to accept the blame when they don’t.”

“My father taught me the same thing,” Jaxon said. “The fact is, I wasn’t entirely comfortable with the refuges, either. I had Mason shadow them for any suspicious activity. If it hadn’t been for him, I’d probably be dead. So if you’re responsible for Mason’s injury, then so am I—and so is he, for agreeing to it.”

“That doesn’t bring back his leg.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Jaxon said. “But either Mason accepts his new reality, or he doesn’t. At this point, there’s not much else he can do.”

Leira entered the room, looking well rested but walking with a slight limp. Her arms were covered with bandages. She regarded Allyn for a moment before focusing on Mason.

“Has he woken up yet?” she asked.

“No,” Jaxon said.

“Good.” Leira sat on the edge of the bed and probed Mason. Ripples of light shot through his ashen skin, making it almost translucent. As they dissipated, Leira turned to Jaxon. “He’ll be out for a while still. I’ll take over if you want to go rest.”

“Thank you,” Jaxon said softly. He kissed Leira on the forehead then withdrew.

Allyn nodded his appreciation to Leira and followed Jaxon.

“Are you prepared for your meeting?” Jaxon asked once they were out of the room.

“I haven’t had a lot of time to think about it,” Allyn admitted.

“I have,” Jaxon said. “And I want you to know that you won’t be going alone. I’m coming with you, along with Nyla, Leira, Rory, and Ren. If this is some kind of trap, we will be prepared.”

“Thank you.”

“Prepare yourself,” Jaxon said. “You’ve got a big night ahead of you.”

The compression armor sometimes felt like a straightjacket. Snug and warm, it didn’t breathe particularly well, making him hot indoors, while doing little to keep him warm in the cool air outside. Worse, the top liked to ride up, creeping above his belt line to expose the soft pink skin underneath. Despite that, he’d grown used to the compression armor top—it was the bottoms hidden under a pair of jeans that were bugging him.

Like the top, they were restrictive and resisted movement, almost as if he were wearing a sports brace on his knees and elbows, making walking and running awkward. They pinched the inside of his legs and caused his sweaty areas to chafe. Part of him wondered if the light armor was worth the uncomfortable distraction. They were, after all, only good for a glancing blow, but like a soldier wearing Kevlar on the front lines, Allyn figured a little protection could be the difference between life and death.

“You didn’t hear me, did you?” Liam asked.

Allyn looked up. “Hmmm?”

Liam’s face flushed, and Allyn quickly realized he had probably been talking for several minutes without realizing no one was paying attention.

“I said I made a couple modifications to your phone,” Liam repeated.

“Oh,” Allyn said. “Sorry. What kind?”

Liam shook his head—whether he was amused or annoyed, Allyn couldn’t tell—and handed Allyn his phone. At a quick glance, it didn’t appear any different.

“I tapped into your GPS,” Liam said, “so that it sends me a continuous signal. I should be able to track you wherever you go.”

“Assuming I have my phone.”

“Are you planning on losing it somewhere?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so,” Liam chided. “Short of implanting a transmitter under your skin, this is the best we’ve got.”

“I’ll go with this.”

“I figured you would.”

Allyn slipped the phone into his jeans pocket. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Just get us some answers.”

The sun had fallen low on the horizon by the time Allyn made it outside. The low-hanging clouds glowed with violent colors.
Not a sign of things to come, I hope
, Allyn thought, pulling at the tight collar of his compression armor.

Kendyl waited for him with Jaxon and the rest of the squad. Her face was tight, nervousness hidden behind a façade of strength. It made her look angry and filled him with a grim sense of determination.

“Time to go,” Allyn said. He tried to keep his voice warm and playful as if he was going to meet up with an old friend for a drink.

“Be safe,” Kendyl said.

“I will.”

She didn’t need to say anything more. They all understood the risks and rewards.

Time to go
.

“Someone is definitely living up there,” Agent Maddox said, hanging up his phone. He leaned back in his chair, turning to face Nolan, who sat across the aisle. The rest of the floor was largely vacant, since most of the agents had left for the night. For an investigative unit, it was strange how many of its agents clung to normal business hours.

“The power’s on?” Nolan asked then glanced at the clock on the wall.

Maddox nodded. “Can you believe it? They go through so much trouble to disappear, and they’re undone by something as simple as the electricity bill.”

“When was it turned on?”

“Two days ago.”

Nolan raised an eyebrow. “So much for coincidences then.”

“Has local PD put any eyes on the residence yet?”

“Not yet.”

Maddox cursed. “What’s taking so long?”

“It’s a large county, and they’re understaffed.”

“You told them who we’re dealing with, right?”

“I did,” Nolan said. “But local emergencies take priority.”

“Call them again, and this time, make it clear that we expect an answer within the hour. I’m putting in the paperwork—we already have enough to go on. Kaplan’s going down.”