A Catch in Time Page 29
CHAPTER 37
MACK WATCHED THE HOUSE FROM A SCREEN OF BUSHES. He had a clear view of Lily, reading a book on the porch swing, though, from this distance, he couldn’t make out her features. It didn’t matter. She would look like Laura and Conrad.
Things Lucas had told him allowed him to revise his plan. His breath was loud in the stillness of the surrounding forest. Breathe slower. No rage, not yet, he warned.
According to Lucas, the Suburban was always garaged. Mack had already verified its absence. Laura wasn’t home yet.
According to Lucas, Laura spoke often of Conrad and said she’d one day like to make the trip back to her childhood home. Lucas remembered the name of her hometown and Mack had found it on the map. It was possible, he decided, that Laura, escaping from Reno, had detoured there.
The children had a hiding place beneath the floor of the den.
Strangers were met with rifles.
No one in that house knew Mack was Lily’s father.
And Lucas had talked a lot about Lily and Laura, enough to give Mack awareness of previously unexplored opportunities to thrust Laura into new realms of terror.
His icy blue eyes watched Lily as she disappeared into the house. He would have Lily, then Conrad. Laura would watch everything. Then he would have Laura.
Mack was in the front yard when Eli saw him through a window. Adrenaline shot through Eli as he hissed a warning to Catherine, who was reading. Catherine snatched two loaded weapons from the cabinet, and Eli herded Lily and John Thomas through the trap door in the den. Reina leaped down after them.
He hardly had time to straighten the rug over the trap door before the knock sounded.
Eli and Catherine pointed their guns as the man identified himself through the door as Mack Silby, an acquaintance of Laura, Kate, and Josiah, from Reno. He asked to speak to any of the three.
Eli answered through the closed door. “They’re not home,” he said. “What do you want?”
“You mean they’re not back from Reno yet?” Mack exclaimed. “How’s that possible?” He lowered his voice, full of concern. “I left Reno hours after they did. I know I didn’t pass them on the road.”
Eli and Catherine strained to decipher Mack’s mumbling and heard enough to exchange a worried look.
“Well, listen, folks,” Mack said loudly. “I brought Lucas. He’s safe with me.”
At this, Eli opened the door. “What are you talking about?” he asked. “Lucas is with them.”
“No,” Mack said. “Lucas is asleep in my car.” He’d left the car, he explained, hidden in the trees. “The world is so strange these days,” he added. “Can’t be too careful. There was trouble with the Brotherhood, and Lucas was separated from them. I told them I’d bring him along.”
“They didn’t say anything about leaving Lucas behind,” Eli said warily.
“That must be why they didn’t put him on the radio when John Thomas asked for him,” said Catherine. She looked sharply at Mack. “They did not mention you, though.”
“Radio?” Mack inquired. He glanced casually past them, assessing the interior of the house. “Well, great.” Mack clapped his hands. “We can clear this up, right now. Call them, they can vouch for me, and you can tell them Lucas is all right.”
“They don’t keep the antennae up,” Eli explained.
“But they got out of Reno all right?” Mack asked, then added fretfully, “I know I didn’t pass them on the road …”
Eli and Catherine exchanged looks. The man’s concern seemed genuine. Relenting, they allowed Mack inside.
“They said they took a safer alternate route out of Nevada,” said Eli.
“Good thinking,” said Mack. “Bet that was Laura’s idea. She’s one smart woman.”
Eli set his shotgun aside and took the armchair opposite Mack. “That she is.”
Catherine set the safety of her handgun and slipped it into the large pocket of her house-smock. She moved to the sideboard, where a pot of tea sat on a tray. “Our conversation with them was brief,” she told Mack. “Eli and I were unable to understand this Brotherhood. Perhaps, Mr. Silby, you might enlighten us?”
“Happy to,” Mack agreed. “I’ve lived with the Brotherhood for years.” He gestured at the room. “Not used to seeing a house without religious symbols.”
Catherine lifted the tea tray and faced him. “I hope it doesn’t offend you. We understand that the Brotherhood is quite … devout?” She bent at the waist and held out the tray.
Mack smiled and reached for a cup. “That’s putting it mildly. In fact, I told Laura it was a good thing she hadn’t brought Lily. It’s terrible what they do to kids born after the blackout.”
Catherine froze. Lily’s true birth date? Never. Eli, with a strangled sound, pushed himself from the depths of his chair and reached for the shotgun.
Unaware of what alerted them, Mack reacted instantly. Snarling, he flung his hot cup of tea into Eli’s face and upended the tray Catherine still held. Catherine fell backward, spilling scalding tea on her chest. In one motion, Mack unsheathed his huge knife and swung at Eli. Catherine’s last impression, as her head hit the floor, was dismay at the knife.
Mack lunged toward Eli, and Eli threw up his arms in defense, stumbled against the armchair behind him, fell to one side. Eyes wide with shock, he saw the knife lift from his chest, covered with his blood. Not like this, his mind screamed. The knife plunged downward, and he jerked to the left, but everything around him moved so quickly, and his reactions seemed so slow.
Blood sprayed in Eli’s eyes.
Mack’s arm pumped, stabbed, sliced, butchered. Flesh chunked, tattered, ran red. Lost in rabid predatory rage, he felt only hot power as he plunged his knife repeatedly, though there was no life left in the mangled body.
When, finally, he stopped, chest heaving, the room remained out of focus for several minutes. Then he saw the corpse beneath him was unrecognizable. The old woman was still unconscious. He looked at the door of the kitchen. Beyond it was the den. The hidden lair.
And Lily.
CHAPTER 38
IT WAS AFTERNOON WHEN KATE PULLED THE SUBURBAN into their driveway. Conrad’s gray Toyota followed. Leaning forward, Laura couldn’t wait to catch her first glimpse of home. They broke free of the trees at the last turn.
In just moments, they’d be reunited with Lily, Eli, Catherine, and John Thomas.
The house, large and sturdy, lay ahead: its front porch, its steps down into the yard. And Catherine, slumped on the top step. Laura’s laughter suddenly curdled.
Catherine sat to one side of the top step, leaning heavily against the banister rails, a shotgun in her lap.
They stopped and Catherine straightened with visible effort. Staunch, solid Catherine suddenly appeared a frail, worn woman.
“What the hell?” Kate said. She and Laura jumped out and rushed up the stairs.
“Lily?” Laura questioned frantically. But Catherine shook her head. Trembling, Laura sank down at Catherine’s feet.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” pleaded Laura.
Josiah had followed without being aware he’d used his crutches. Conrad’s Toyota pulled up and the engine stopped.
Catherine stared at Kate and Laura, licked her dry lips, then locked gazes with Josiah.
“Catherine?” Josiah questioned. His stomach was an icy pit. In the deathly still air, the buzz of insects throbbed against his ears.
“Josiah,” said Catherine, voice cracking. Her lips trembled, and Josiah knew Eli was dead.
“How?” he said, his voice empty of expression.
“We buried him yesterday, near the vineyard, John Thomas and I.”
Anguish lodged in his throat and he shouted, “HOW?”
The house door opened and John Thomas stood framed in the doorway, his face gaunt, eyes red rimmed.
“Katie?” cried John Thomas. He flew into her arms, buried his face in her neck, and cried. She hugged him tightly and cried with him.
Mohammed stood near them, head bowed with respect to the tragedy of this homecoming. Josiah had told him enough about Eli that he’d looked forward to meeting him. Now, Mohammed mourned the real loss of this soul, Eli, for only Mohammed knew of the ultimate place into which Eli had passed. A suffocating fear came every time he thought of the new meaning of death to this world.
Josiah didn’t cry. He stared at Catherine, grief suspended, aware only of an intense rage.
Catherine’s face was hidden by her long, wrinkled fingers. She still had something left to tell Laura, but didn’t know how, didn’t have the strength.
Laura, face smeared with tears, went to Josiah. There was a confusion of voices and movement that meant nothing to him. He swallowed and flexed his hands and concentrated solely on controlling the rage that expanded every vein in his body.
Somehow, they were all in the living room. As the others clustered in twos and threes, he sat alone in an armchair, trembling, and distantly wondered why Catherine still hadn’t answered his question. Ali sat on the floor, Conrad and Fawn on the couch, holding hands. Kate sat with John Thomas, cuddling him, her hand stroking his hair, both still crying. Laura wept into her hands. Catherine stood next to her, face drawn in pain.
Josiah thought of Eli, buried near the vineyard. The vines had been Eli’s special project. He’d become so absorbed with them over the years that they’d all teased him. An entire bookcase was devoted to Eli’s books on grapes and winemaking, scavenged on many trips. Josiah’s gaze wandered to the books, looking suddenly so forlorn, each worn copy leaning upon the next. His throat ached.
The thought of Eli, under the ground, in the darkness that had terrified him, made Josiah’s anger swell, his grief grow.
Yet he could not cry.
Eli is dead, he thought. He was dead yesterday while I was miles away, thinking about things to tell him. He was alive only in my mind. The conversation will never happen …
He looked around the room, met Laura’s gaze, and looked away.
Wiping her tears with the heel of a hand, Laura wished she could comfort Josiah. If only she could make him understand that Eli wasn’t truly lost … but now wasn’t the time.
Laura assumed Eli had succumbed to a fatal relapse of his illness and wondered how Lily was taking it. She had loved Eli so much. Did she really understand what had happened? She was so young.
“Is Lily asleep?” she asked Catherine, who seemed to diminish further in size.
Laura caught her breath, suddenly terrified. She stared at Catherine and all sound ceased. Everyone focused on Catherine. John Thomas pushed his face into Kate’s shoulder and wailed.
With unimaginable frailness, Catherine whispered, “Forgive me, Laura.”
The last of Josiah’s reality shattered.
“What do you mean?” Laura shrieked, grabbing Catherine’s arm.
“She was taken.” Catherine’s voice broke. “He took her. He … killed Eli and took Lily.” She raised a trembling hand to her face.
“Who?” Laura screamed. “What are you talking about? Who took her? Where?”
Catherine shuddered. “He said his name is Mack Silby and—”
“What?” Kate yelled.
“That motherfucker!” Josiah roared.
Conrad cried out and Mohammed wailed.
Josiah turned in time to see Laura crumple to the floor.
CHAPTER 39
KATE AND MOHAMMED LIFTED LAURA. THEY HAD barely placed her limp body on the couch when she unexpectedly lunged back up, hysterical. Kate restrained her, shouting at her, but Laura was frantic.
“Let me go!” she screamed, crazed with fear. “Let me go. No time. Find her!”
Mack. The culmination of all evil. Shaitan. Lily’s father. A child murderer. Eli’s killer. Lily, trapped in his terrifying presence.
She had to go now.
Kate and Fawn sat on either side of her, holding her arms. With a sudden snarl of rage, Laura wrenched her arm from Kate’s grip. Fawn flung her arms around her waist.
“Stop it. Let her go!” Josiah shouted.
Startled, Fawn’s arms dropped.
“I’m leaving,” said Laura, and she moved toward the door.
Josiah gripped her arms. “You’ll need help.”
Laura’s body trembled with adrenaline. “I need guns,” she proclaimed. “All of them. I’ve got to go. I can’t wait anymore.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Josiah.
Kate jumped up. “Me, too.”
Laura’s face twisted with anxiety. “This is taking too long. I’ve got to go.”
Catherine’s voice rang out with its old authority. “Don’t be foolish. You have no idea where he’s taken her.”
Laura clutched herself in a hug, jittering from foot to foot.
Catherine turned to Mohammed. “Young man, what is your name?”
Startled by the sudden attention of the elder, he stammered, “Mohammed.”
Catherine shook her head and muttered, “Mohammed? Mohammed Ali?”
“I am called Ali,” Mohammed said to Catherine. “My name is Mohammed.”
“Very well, Mohammed.” Catherine pointed at the kitchen door. “That is the kitchen. Fetch the large blue jar from the refrigerator.” Mohammed hurried across the room as Catherine pinned her gaze on Fawn, sitting on the couch. “And your name?”
“Fawn.”
Catherine nodded. “And yours?”
“Conrad.”
Catherine’s chin notched up and she stared down at Conrad. “Yes,” she said, almost to herself. “I see it now. You are Laura’s brother.”
Conrad nodded. Catherine drew a deep breath. “Amazing,” she said softly, then waved at Laura and Kate. “Sit down, girls. There must be a plan.”
Laura twitched anxiously. “He must have taken her to Reno. I have to—”
“Sit down,” Catherine commanded. “I was given instructions by that evil man. If you wish to see Lily, you must control yourself. You will not leave until morning.” Mohammed had returned to her side, holding a large blue ceramic canister. “Thank you, Mohammed.” Catherine popped the lid and retrieved several small pill containers. Peering at the labels, she dropped all but one bottle back into the canister. “A glass of water now, please.” Mohammed moved quickly.
Kate tugged Laura to an armchair, then glimpsed John Thomas, huddled miserably on the couch. “Come here, honey.” Kate hugged him close. “We’ll get our Lily back. I promise.”
“And Lucas, Katie. He’s got Lucas, too,” said John Thomas.
Kate stiffened. Lucas. That was how Mack had found them. Lucas had indeed betrayed them … all of them. Forcing warmth into her voice, she said, “And we’ll get Lucas back, too.” I’ll rip him to shreds. “How about you brew us up a pot of tea?” She gently nudged him toward the kitchen.
Catherine convinced Laura to take a mild sedative. “You must calm down. You’ll need your strength.” Laura swallowed the two pills and Catherine resumed her seat.
“He did not take Lily to Reno; he took her to San Francisco,” Catherine said, then explained Mack’s orders.
He would call every morning, over the shortwave, until Laura answered. They were not to try and follow him. He was very precise with his threats. When he reached Laura, he would give further instructions.
Catherine then told them how cleverly they’d been deceived.
“I must have hit my head on the floor. When I awoke, I was bound, saw what he had done …” Her mouth trembled and she fought for control. “Reina, too.”
John Thomas had reseated himself next to Kate. He clutched her tightly. Catherine recalled his first days at Laura’s San Francisco apartment. He’d been Kate’s small, thin shadow then, traumatized, clinging. Now, seeing him re-immersed in terror, haunted by the same images she had of Eli m
utilated, Reina’s entrails torn from her body, she damned Mack Silby, his incomprehensible evil.
Mack had easily found the children, almost as if he were directed to them, hidden beneath the enclosed porch. John Thomas tried to hold Reina as he and Lily huddled in the dark musty space, but Reina had charged the instant Mack had lifted the trapdoor.
John Thomas said Reina had been so brave, savaging Mack even as he slashed her again and again.
“I had to help her, Catherine, I had to,” John Thomas had cried, explaining why he hadn’t fled with Lily through the escape hatch, into the woods. Catherine had held and reassured him. Reina had been trying to save them so, of course, he had to do the same for her. Inwardly, she screamed at the foolhardiness of that decision. John Thomas had managed neither to restrain Reina nor lead Lily to safety and now blamed himself. Though bruised by repeated blows from Mack, John Thomas’s guilt was far more painful.
“Reina tried to save John Thomas and Lily,” Catherine told the group. “And John Thomas matched her bravery. He tried to help Reina.”
Kate enfolded John Thomas’s shaking body. She understood the implication of Catherine’s careful words: John Thomas had been Lily’s last hope of escape. But, by trying to save Reina, he had sealed Lily’s fate.
Her eyes met Laura’s. John Thomas needed Laura’s forgiveness. Catherine and Josiah knew it as well.
It hurt Laura to breathe. Lily and John Thomas could have run into the woods, up into the massive oak hundreds of yards within the safety of the forest. No. That didn’t happen. Oh, God, why didn’t that happen? Moving on rubbery legs, she went to the couch, fell to her knees, and pulled John Thomas from Kate’s arms into her own.
“Oh, John Thomas,” she assured him, through tears, “it’s not your fault. He is a terrible, evil man. I’m so glad he didn’t hurt you more.” John Thomas’s back and thighs were blackened with bruises from Mack.