Tales of Chills and Thrills: The Mystery Thriller Horror Box Set (7 Mystery Thriller Horror Novels) (93 page)

19

Riley watched the wind blow branches out of the pine trees and
heard them thump against the roof of the house. No lights were on. The sky
turned gray as clouds from the Pacific Ocean piled up. He turned away from the
window and looked at the black spot on the carpet. He knew it was blood, but
there was not a tint of red to it.

He paced in the small room, wondering why no one had come home.
Bowden had said that they would get Michelle and then go get the treasure, but
things didn’t feel right. Maybe they didn’t find her alive or she was hurt, he
thought. Riley grabbed the rim of his fedora in two fingers and spun it in his
hands as he considered what could have gone wrong. After several minutes he
wondered why he didn’t think things were going well. Each scenario that
developed in his mind was one of doom.

He crushed the fedora back into place and decided that he would
try to take a look. He braced himself and took a deep breath, then looked for
the hotel. His gaze plowed through the walls in a blur. Trees, the ground,
pavement, then more walls flashed through him as his sight took him miles from
where he was. He searched for the hotel as the ground slid beneath him. He worried
that his sight had taken him too far, and wished that he could get a better
view from higher up, then noticed that his vision rose from the ground and now
soared over the land. 

This gave Riley a better view of the area. He decided he liked
to pass through the air better than passing through the obstacles along the
ground. He located the hotel with the police cars outside and his gaze crashed
through the ceiling to the rooms inside. He located the lobby and the police
tape and then room 153. The door was open and Riley looked in. He could see
officers talking and moving around, but he couldn’t find Bowden or Tara.

He pulled his gaze back and searched the parking lot for the
rental car but didn’t see it.
The ocean then
,
he thought, and the ground lashed below him. He searched the
waters, glancing inside boats as he worked his way north. The whole search took
only a minute, and he found the Melancholy riding easily on the waves as it
approached the cliff face of a very small and uninhabited island. Riley
instantly recognized the area from the picture and turned his sight into the
boat. He saw Tara sitting across from Bowden. A man with gray hair and beard
steered the boat. Kent Fonck stood behind them all with a gun.

Riley wished he was there, and then suddenly he was. He stood
where his sight had taken him; just inside the back door.
What had just
happened?
He glanced down at himself and saw that he was only a vague form. No one inside
had seen him because there wasn’t much to see yet. It was still too light out,
but the darkening clouds were quickly blocking out the evening sun.

He floated up the ladder to the sundeck and peeked into the
cabin below.

“Take the boat over there,” Kent directed. “I think I can see a
hole in the rock. I think it’s even in the same location as that black spot in
the painting.”

Walt glanced over at Bowden, who shrugged. “He’s the one with
the gun.”

Walt steered the boat closer to the cliff face and the dark
circle became more visible. It was a small hole about three feet round and the
cliff towered another eighty feet above it. On top of the cliff monstrous pine
trees grew right up to the edge. Some of the roots of the trees were exposed to
the air.

A large rock with a flat top protruded from the water. Waves
smashed against it and covered the top with foaming water.

“Get close to that rock.”

Walt shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. The weather is turning
and the waves are too rough.”

Kent stepped forward and placed the barrel of the gun against
Walt’s head. “Get up next to that rock.”

“At least put some bumpers out,” Walt complained.

Kent spun towards Bowden. “Tie some bumpers off and put them
out.”

Riley crawled away from the
back of the boat so that he was almost directly over Walt. He didn’t want to be
seen yet. He had to pick his moment. He had to appear at a time that would
allow Bowden the best chance to overpower Kent.

Bowden tossed the bumpers over and stayed outside as Walt
brought the boat in close to the rock. He glanced at the gaff on the other side
of the boat and cursed his luck. Kent pushed Tara outside and motioned with his
arm for Walt to get closer.

“You’re going first,” Kent shouted to Bowden. “Then we’ll help
Tara off. Then I want you two to back up against the cliff. I’ll join you.”

Bowden put his left foot on the side of the boat and watched as the
waves covered the flat rock. He felt the rise and fall of the boat and tried to
get a feel for the pattern. He wanted to jump as the boat was still rising, but
before it peaked on a wave. There was about three feet of water between the
boat and the rock that he had to cross. As the boat came down, the gap widened
to five feet. It came up again and he jumped.

For a moment, there was only water beneath him and then spray
engulfed him, shooting up over his head. The salt water stung his eyes and he
was momentarily blinded. He couldn’t see the rock as he landed. His right leg
gave way and his left foot shot out from under him. He felt as though he was
momentarily suspended in the air, then his shoulder blades collided with the
rock. His head snapped back and lights danced in his head. He rolled over as
spray from the next wave covered him in a sheet of icy water.

Kent stared at him for a several seconds. “Are you okay?”

He struggled to his knees.

“Stay here,” Kent told Tara. “We might need you to help us get
back on board.”

Kent put a foot on the side of the boat and leapt for the rock.
He lost his footing as he landed and fell over backwards. He broke his fall
with his left hand, but retained his hold on the gun. He stood up and tucked his
left hand under his right arm and squeezed it against his side.

“Get up there,” he screamed at Bowden, pointing at the small
cave.

Bowden climbed the wet rocks. It was an easy climb, but
miserable conditions. Large drops of rain fell from the sky, and the wind
increased another 10 mph. He glanced back and saw Kent climbing up behind him.
He stopped to see if Kent would close the distance. If he got close enough, he
could kick him in the head and knock the killer into the sea.

Kent glanced up. “Keep going.”

He moved on reluctantly, until he knelt in front of the hole.
The hole rose gradually into the cliff and was about twelve feet deep.
Something square sat in the very back. He glanced at the sides and realized
that the cave was actually more like a tunnel. It was man-made.

Kent pushed him out of the way and looked up into the hole.
“Crawl up in there and drag that back.” He held up the gun.

Bowden crawled into the hole. The first two or three feet were
wet from sea spray, then the incline and the tunnel itself protected the rest
of the cave from the water.

His body blocked out the light and he crawled forward in the
darkness. He wondered if Pierre or Flavio had made traps for anyone stupid
enough to attempt to explore their little hole. He doubted it and prayed that
he was right.

He reached out and touched the square object and felt around it.
The side he had seen was twelve inches square, but the box was at least twice
that long. It was made out of metal and he found a handle on the small end that
faced him. He grabbed the handle and tugged. The heavy box slid forward an inch.

“What are you doing up there?” Kent shouted. His voice sounded
loud in the cave.

 “Hold on,” he yelled back.

“What?”

“Hold on.”

“What?”

He heard the wind howling outside and figured that it drowned
out his voice. He didn’t answer. He crawled up closer to the box and knelt over
it. Two clasps held the lid shut. There wasn’t a locking mechanism, so he
flipped the clasps and opened the lid. A black, heavy-knit, wool blanket closed
off the contents. Another identical blanket appeared to line the inside of the
box. He grabbed the edge of the blanket being used as a cover, and peeled it
back.

Small pebbles? The light wasn’t good. He shifted the box and
moved his body further around, so that the light coming in from the front of
the cave could reach the contents. He saw a sparkle and reached in his hand.
The small pebbles felt like glass, smooth and cold as his fingers slid into
them. He felt his heart jump. He scooped some up in his hand and raised them
above the edge.

Diamonds
!

He let them cascade from his fingers back into the box.

“Come on,” Kent yelled. “The weather’s getting bad.”

He shut the lid and wedged himself behind the box, braced his
back against the wall, put his feet on one end of the box, and shoved. It moved
easily. He slid up behind the box and shoved it with his feet again. This end
of the box also had a handle.

He reached the opening, and Kent grabbed a handle and tugged. He
grunted and Bowden smiled. He knew it would be difficult to get the heavy box
off the cliff face and into the boat. Maybe Kent would want to wait.

Kent tugged the box out far enough that Bowden could get out of
the cave and stand up. He lifted one end and Kent pointed the gun at him and
shook his head.

“You’re going to trade me places. I’ll be on the uphill side.”

Bowden stepped carefully around the box. Only eight inches of
rock showed between the edge of the box and the crashing waves below.

Kent put his back against the cliff and grabbed Bowden’s jacket
as he stood in front of him, then pushed Bowden away, smiling as he did so.

His right foot slid off the edge. Kent forced him over backwards
and now kept him from falling into the sea only by holding his jacket.

He swallowed and looked the killer straight in the eyes. “You’ll
never get that loaded without my help.”

“I know that! I just want to remind you that I can kill you any
time.”

Kent tugged on Bowden’s coat, so he could get his right foot on
the ledge. He scrambled up against the cliff. Kent quickly stepped around the
box.

“Pick it up,” he ordered.

Bowden grabbed the handle and lifted his end off the ground. He
waited for Kent to grab the other handle, and then he pulled. The back end of
the box slid along the rocks since Kent didn’t pick it up. All he did was
provide stability.

Bowden looked at the flat rock below him. It was covered with an
inch of water that poured over the edges. The crashing waves shot water twelve
feet into the air.
A dangerous place to be with a killer next to you.

 He carried his end of the heavy chest out onto the rock,
and suddenly felt the back end rise. Kent had picked his end up. They carried
it between them, and stopped at the edge of the rock.

Kent beckoned to Walt with his gun hand, and Walt brought the boat
back to the rock. He stopped about six feet away, and Kent screamed at him.

“Get it closer.”

The next wave picked up the boat and dropped it at their feet.
Water crashed against Bowden’s legs and chest, driving him backwards.

He got a foot behind him and steadied himself, just as he heard
Kent yell, Now!”

He felt the movement on the other end of the box as Kent shoved
it up to the side of the boat. He lifted his end as it dropped slightly.

The boat moved out with the water and he reached out, attempting
to get his end over the side. The box rocked on the side of the boat and then
fell onto the deck. He was still pushing when the box dropped. As the weight of
the box disappeared, and the boat moved away, his own weight was too far
forward. He tried to stop his momentum and teetered on the edge.

Six feet of water opened between the rock and the boat, and he
stared into the blackness. He flailed his arms in an attempt to regain his
balance, and felt a wave of relief as he pulled himself back. He’d made it.

Then Kent’s hand struck him between the shoulders, sending him
into the trough between the boat and the rock. As Bowden plummeted into the
frigid water, he felt himself being sucked down and out, as the water rushed
away from the cliff. Then the water pushed him back towards the rocks.

He looked up. The salt stung his eyes, but he needed to know
where the boat was. He was afraid of being crushed or chewed up by the
propeller.

He couldn’t see the
surface. Panic struck him like a blow, and he started kicking and pulling for
the surface. He looked up, hoping to see light. He was slammed against the rock
and his right arm took most of the impact. He slid up the rock face. Suddenly,
he saw the hull of the boat only inches from his head. He ducked and threw up his
left arm in a reflexive action. His hand hit a metal bar and he grasped it. Then
the boat fell away from the rocks, and he went with it.

Riley saw the box crash onto the deck and Bowden fight to
maintain his balance. Then Kent pushed Bowden, so that he fell between the
rocks and the boat.