The Life and Death of Lauren Conway: A Companion to Without Mercy (6 page)

They waited.

He heard the creak of the front door of the chapel as it was pulled shut, then the soft thud and quick click of the newly-installed lock.

Good.

The sergeant at arms was doing her duty.

Good girl.

So they were waiting. Seated restlessly in the rotting pews, anticipating his appearance, clueless as to what he was about to ask of them. Of himself.

He made his way to the pulpit. Usually, he was comfortable here, his fingers curling over the slanted edges of the lectern worn smooth by the heavy Bibles that had once been placed upon it.

Despite the semi-darkness and the sound of the wind rattling the icy windowpanes as it keened through the surrounding hills, they, within the thin walls of the cabin, were rapt. Shivering from the cold and anticipation, they sat on three benches, like parishioners on hand-hewn pews, ready to be blessed with insight and purpose. As they did each Wednesday, at midnight, regardless of the storms that raged over these secluded mountains, they congregated. Swore their allegiance. Took up arms.

They were strong. Intelligent. Burning with rebellion. On the brink of adulthood, they only had to be nurtured properly and they were ready to fight. Believers. Their eyes, dilated with the darkness, were focused on him, their ears tuned into his words as if he were a god.

They were his chosen ones. His disciples.

All were eager. Hanging on his every command.

All willing to do whatever he asked.

Without question.

They would kill for him.

And they would give up their own lives willingly.

Except one.

The female Judas.

“Someone must be sacrificed.” He said the words softly so that they were barely audible over the keening wind that rattled the window panes and seemed to tear at the remaining shingles on the roof. Yet everyone heard them; they all understood his intent. He heard the scrape of nervous feet on the cold earth floor, felt the sizzle of anticipation in the air. “We have a traitor in our midst,” he said solemnly. “Someone who infiltrated our circle.” He paused for a second and caught the scent of fear, as if each was afraid he or she would be called out. “No. It’s not someone here.” He eyed each one of them. “You all know what to do, but let’s go over it one more time before we go back to the academy. We’ll take her out tonight. “

“Her?” a girl whispered nervously.

“Yes.” The leader’s voice was tight, but fortunately didn’t betray his emotion. “Lauren. Lauren Conway.”

¤   ¤   ¤

The dorm was deathly quiet.

Though officially lights were supposed to be out at ten, sometimes there were girls in the hallway or shower room, those unafraid of the repercussions of breaking the rules. Now, as it was closing onto midnight, there was no sound other than the soft rumble of the furnace as it forced warm air through the ducts. Backpack slung over one shoulder, Lauren opened her doorway noiselessly, poked her head into the corridor and saw no one.

Good.

She’d already set her plan into motion and she couldn’t afford any glitches.

Pulse skyrocketing, she slipped into the corridor where only a red EXIT sign marked the stairway. Outside the window was the emergency fire escape.

It’s now or never!

Swallowing hard, she kept moving and silently prayed her plan would work.

¤   ¤   ¤

From the top floor of the chapel, the leader watched and waited. Dressed in black, his walkie-talkie in his pocket, his night-vision binoculars raised to his eyes, he was physically ready; if not mentally so. Through the soaring glass wall of the building, he noticed a slice of moonlight pierce the dark night, giving him an unobstructed view of the women’s dorm.

They were all in place but he would be able to watch her try to escape.

Lauren.

Beautiful seductress.

His gut squeezed painfully.

When did it happen? he wondered, his gaze sliding over the shadows as he searched for any sign of a disturbance. When had he lost himself in her? Not that it mattered now. He glanced at the digital readout of his watch as he spied the open window of the dormitory.

A second later, a dark figure appeared on the fire escape.

Damn!

His pulse began to thunder.

He’d thought she would come up with something a little more imaginative.

Jaw tight, he observed her climb down the grating as a half moon cast its solitary glow over the rugged terrain and wide buildings of the campus.

A deepening sense of outrage burned through him as he watched her scurrying through the deepening night, avoiding the grove of trees and gazebo flickering with tiny lights.

His gloved fingers clenched over the binoculars.

How close she’d come to out-witting him.

Isn’t that what attracted you in the first place?

He remembered reading her application for admittance, studying her essay, staring at the picture that had been enclosed. She’d
wanted
to come here.

She’d gotten to him at his first glimpse. Her intelligent eyes had smoldered with rebellion, her mouth had been curved into a disturbed pout and there had been something about her expression, in the supposedly candid shot, that had screamed disobedience. And more. So much more. Her image had taken his breath away.

That which had intrigued him most about her, had proved the most deadly.

But there was no time for recriminations now.

She was on the move, her slim, dark shadow dashing across the moon-washed open spaces, only to stop and hide in the deeper shadows. Across the campus lawns, avoiding the paths, keeping to the night-shadows of the solitary trees and tall buildings, she skirted the chapel and administration building before heading due west.
Away
from the road leading to the outside world.

The muscles of his jaw tightened as he followed her movements. She stopped again, at the corner of the cafeteria where she waited.

Odd.

Was she second-guessing her break for freedom?

He doubted it, but another painful thought sliced through him. What if she were meeting someone? Another lover. Jealousy burned hot through his blood.

Like a criminal, she skulked along the side of the stone and cedar building housing the cafeteria and gym. Glancing over her shoulder, she hesitated but a second before running with the grace and agility of the athlete she was across an open space, past the flagpole with its chain clanging in the stiff wintry breeze, and between the administration building and chapel.

So near!

He followed her movements as she ran along the east wall of the admin building. When she reached the back portico, she veered at a ninety-degree angle toward the buildings housing the livestock. A round-about path that he concluded was just to ensure that she wasn’t being followed. If found out, she could make up some lame excuse and probably had already formed one.

Quickly she glanced over her shoulder once more.

He held his breath.

Then, as if assured she wasn’t being followed, she took off again. At a dead sprint. This time she headed directly toward the stable.

Of course.

The horses.

Foolish girl.

Finally, she’d made a mistake.

And it would cost her.

Smiling at her blunder, he anticipated her capture and clicked on his walkie-talkie.

“She’s heading west,” he said tightly.

“I see her,” was the whispered reply.

“Intercept her.”

“And then?”

“You know what to do.”

He clicked off.

Such a predictable move.

And so unlike her.

Heart thudding, he squinted into the darkness. Something about the way she ran… her gait, just wasn’t quite right.

Or was it all a trick of the shifting moonlight? The thin veil of clouds clouding his vision?

Unsure he retraced what he’d just seen as he headed for the stairs. He knew he’d just watched her attempt to escape.

Still… an icy niggle of fear scraped down his spine.

Fuck!

This is wrong!

Something’s off!

All wasn’t lost.

Yet.

His team was in position, five of his most trusted soldiers, circling her as she sped toward stable. He eased away from the window, then ran to the back stairs of the chapel.

Really? The front entrance?

Not far from a large security light pole where a shimmering blue haze illuminated the surrounding grounds?

Why not try the back door?

Or climb the fence?

Or jimmy open a window… away from security cameras?

In a second, he felt as if he’d been sucker-punched.

Lauren was far too smart for this.

“Son of a bitch,” he whispered aloud as he sped down three flights of steps. He clicked on the walkie and ordered, “Stand down.”

“Too late.” The answering voice sounded metallic over the static. “She’s spotted us.”

“Shit!”

He was outside of the chapel in an instant, running, his long strides cutting across the grounds as he headed straight for the stables. The night was cold. Brittle. Burning through his airway and lungs.

“What do you want us to do?” the tinny voice asked from the walkie as the leader passed by a solitary madrona tree.

“Stay with the plan. Detain her. I’m on my way.”

“Roger that.”

He dashed around a garage and down the gravel road to the stables where, in front of the closed doors, his followers had confronted her. He reached the stables just as he heard one of his team members order harshly, “Don’t move!” Visible in the lamplight, weapon drawn, a ski mask covering his face, the team member hissed, “Stop right there!”

“What’re you going to do? Shoot me? Jesus, you’re not serious,” she mocked.

It wasn’t the voice the leader expected.

What the hell is going on?

“You’re not Lauren,” the leader stated flatly as the five stepped back allowing him to see her face clearly for the first time.

The girl looked at him. “No shit, Sherlock. What’s this about? I didn’t do anything!”

The leader contained his fury with an effort and signaled his team to leave.

There was another way to track Lauren, he thought grimly. No more fooling around. No more game playing.

She was his.

Chapter Five

Lauren ran as if Lucifer himself were chasing her.

Faster! Faster! Faster!

Breathing hard, she wished to high heaven she’d brought a weapon. A knife or pistol or anything–even a damned slingshot, none of which she had.

Quit dreaming!

Hurry!

She raced through the dense forest, along a deer trail, using a tiny beam of her flashlight when she dared, her feet sometimes slipping on the ice and snow crusted over the hard terrain.

She was deep in the woods now, her breath coming in short bursts that fogged the night air, the darkness interrupted by the white expanse of snow.

Run, run, run!

Somewhere far off a coyote let out a lonely wail and goose bumps rose on her skin.

Keep going! Don’t slow down! The coyote’s probably miles away.

She hurried up a familiar hill. She’d done enough exploring in these rocky rises to know exactly which route to take, though she’d had second thoughts and had nearly backed out when she’d reached the end of the hall near the fire escape.

But she’d kept going.

Down the interior stairs she’d flown and restrained herself from pushing open the exterior door, her quickest path to freedom. Had she shouldered open the door, she would have woken the entire compound with the clanging of bells. Instead, feeling as if her every move was being observed by hidden eyes, she’d hurried past the first floor and into the basement, where bicycles were parked between the storage areas, fenced storage units filled with personal belongings. She’d hurried through the doorway near the mechanical room to an area stuffed with ping-pong tables and other sporting goods, to a far window, one that she’d been shown by Crysta who used this grimy window as a way to sneak out and meet her boyfriend. She’d stepped onto an old shipping trunk, unlatched the window and pushed it open. From there, it had been easy enough to slither through and pull her backpack with her.

Cold air had slapped her face and she’d reminded herself that her footprints would be visible in the snow. She’d had to have been careful, and had run over well used tracks, where other impressions had already been made, offering up a zigzagging course so she wouldn’t be discovered.

She’d checked to see that no one was around, that the snow-blanketed campus was quiet, then, sending up a quick prayer, she taken off at a dead run.

It all had worked because the basement was the only area of the entire building not surveyed by cameras. Of course it was only a matter of time before someone watched the security tape and saw her entering the stairwell. Eventually, they would find the window with its faulty latch and figure out how she’d escaped.