All Things Lost (55 page)

     Using the wall to brace myself I managed to work my way to a sitting position, although once I was upright I had to take a few precious seconds to allow the barn to stop spinning and my stomach to stop rolling. With a stray thought about my last tetanus shot I started sliding the ropes between my wrists across the sharp edge of the blade. It didn't take me long to realize that it was going to be slow going since I couldn't get a decent angle or enough pressure. I was sawing away when the handle began to slide along the wall.

     “No, damn you,” I gasped, but of course it didn't listen. It slid slowly down the rough boards of the wall almost as if it was in slow motion. With a thud it landed on the floor beside me. I almost broke into tears again until it occurred to me that I could probably get a much better cutting edge this way. I repositioned myself and started sawing again. This time it felt like it going much faster, but it still seemed like I could feel the minutes ticking by before I felt the ropes suddenly fall loose. As quickly as I could, I spun around and started cutting the ropes that bound my feet. Since I now had the use of my hands this went a bit quicker.

     Finally freed, I slowly and rather shakily pulled myself to my feet, leaning heavily against the wall. After the barn had once again stopped spinning like one of those carnival rides that always makes me want to vomit, I took stock of my situation. The window was tantalizingly close, but there wasn't much chance of me going through the window in my condition. Besides, if they were on their way back they would easily see me. The door was the obvious choice but that would be a lot easier if it wasn't on the opposite end of the barn. The way I felt it might as well be on the far side of the moon. The relief I had felt in my head and surge of strength was fast fading. If the wall hadn't been at my back I wasn't at all sure I would have been able to stay standing. Well, I couldn't stay here, that much was obvious.

     I pushed gingerly away from the wall and took a few wobbly steps before I had to brace myself against the tractor while I waited for my world to settle down. A slug could make faster progress than I was going to be able to manage. My head was throbbing even when I was standing still, turning my neck caused blinding flashes of pain and my stomach felt like it was competing in the gymnastics competition at the Olympics. And to top it all off it would be only too easy to sink back into unconsciousness; the beckoning promise of oblivion seemed more and more attractive.

     But no, I couldn't give up that easily. Seth had said I was strong and I had to believe him. I let go of the tractor and took a few more steps before stopping again, swaying slightly as I stood waiting until I could go again. A few more steps and I
was
halfway across the barn. That's when I ran out of time. I heard the pounding of running footsteps approaching fast and I was standing in the middle of the floor. With a burst of energy that I didn't know I still possessed I stumbled across the floor to the nearest stall and dropped down out of sight.

     The brief expenditure took its toll, though, as the nausea rose up again. I frantically fought it back down to keep from betraying myself with retching.

     “What the fuck?” I heard someone scream moments later, I think it was Finn.

     “Where'd he go?” Caleb shouted, his voice cracking in panic.

     “We have to find him!”

     There was some scuffling around and then Finn yelled, “Here's the rope. Damn it, the fucker cut them off.”

     “I'll look outside,” Caleb called. “You look in here.”

     When Finn answered his voice was just outside the stall I was in. “No, it'll be faster if we both look in here first. If he's outside he's probably long gone.”

     “What do we do if he got away?”

     “I don't know but we'd better think fast. But as hard as I hit him I can't believe he got far, even without the ropes. You look upstairs. I'll look down here.”

     I quickly tore the stall apart with my eyes, searching for anything to use as a weapon, but there was nothing here but cobwebs and rotten straw. Before I could even prepare myself I heard him again, from directly behind me.

     “Well, well, well, you can stop looking,” he called, his voice sounding sickening smug. “I found our little escapee.” He bent down and grabbed me by the arm, yanking me to my feet. The jerking movement sent my head spinning and I was too sick to fight even if I had a weapon. I was defeated. I had let everyone down, including Seth. I wasn't as strong as he thought I was.

     Finn half dragged, half shoved me back over by the ropes and tools. He held me arms tightly behind my back with both hands. Caleb joined us with a strange expression on his face, part relief and part dread.

     “Get that thing there,” Finn ordered Caleb, pointing at the scythe.

     
“What for?”
Caleb asked.

     “Just get it!” Finn barked and Caleb bent to pick up the tool. “We're going to finish what we started and we're going to do it right this
time
.”

     “What do you mean?”

     “We can't have him waking up again and running out before the fire does its job, right?”

     “I…I guess.”

     “Then we have to kill him.”

     I hardly even reacted to the matter of fact tone in his voice. I was beyond that point now; it was just a matter of getting it over with.

     “Kill him? Me?”

     “Yes, use that thing. Just picture yourself as the grim reaper.”

     “I can't!”

     “You killed your dad, you can do this.”

     “That was different, I hated him. I don't hate Killian.”

     “Look, you listened to me before. I told you that killing your dad was the only way you would ever be free of him, didn't I? And I was right. You're free of him now. Killian is the only thing standing in your way from total freedom. You have to kill him. You have to.”

     I could see the emotions battling inside Caleb's head written clearly on his face. I could also see that Finn's arguments were winning him over. Caleb slowly raised the scythe over his shoulder with shaking arms.

     “Be careful with that thing, now,” Finn warned. “Make sure you just get him and not me.” He held me out at arm's length.

     “What about the blood?” Caleb temporized.

     “What about it?”

     “If it's anything like Dad there'll be a lot of blood. I'm not wearing a wetsuit this time to catch it all, and neither are you. It'll get all over us.”

     “We don't have a choice, damn it. Just be careful, and hurry up.”

     Caleb took a deep breath and closed his eyes. I closed mine as well, better to not see it coming. Maybe it wouldn't hurt and I'd never know what hit me. The sudden silence was as terrifying as anything that had been said, maybe more so since it held the threat of the unknown. I refused to open my eyes though, afraid that as soon as I did I'd see the deadly blade rushing at my throat.

     At that moment, an ear piercing sound shattered the quiet. My eyes flew open involuntarily to find Caleb's eyes open wide as well, the scythe frozen in mid-swing. It was a siren and it was close. Caleb dropped the scythe and threw Finn a panicked look.

     “What do we do?”

     “Run!” Finn yelled as he roughly shoved me away. I stumbled forward, tripped on the scythe and fell. My reflexes, what little was left, were too slow to react and I hit the ground hard face first. This time I didn't fight the blackness.

* * *

     This time when I woke up I didn't even try to open my eyes. I wasn't sure I wanted to know where I was or how I was. My memory of the last time was still fresh in my mind.

     I became aware of two unfamiliar voices talking nearby. One was male and one was female.

     “I don't know, it will depend on how he feels when he wakes up,” the woman was saying.

     “But he will wake up?” the man clarified.

     “Oh, yes. We fully expect him to be fine. He has a pretty serious concussion but that seems to be the extent of his injuries except for a few minor bruises.”

     “Will he be doped up?”      

     “We've given him some pain killers but it shouldn't incapacitate him. Does this have to be done right now? He will have a monster headache.”

     “Yes, it's very important that I talk to him as soon as he wakes up.”

     “Would you like us to call you?”

     “No, I think I'll wait right here if that's alright with you. Until we know for sure what's going on I'd like to keep an eye on him.”

     
“Of course, Sergeant.
I have my rounds to do, I'll check back in shortly.”

     It sounded to me like it was a cop and doctor; talking about me most likely. I supposed I could open my eyes and get it over with, but it was awful nice to just lay here.

     “Hank, I didn't expect to see you here,” someone said suddenly. This one was a voice I recognized at least, Novak.

     “Shane, hello,” the first man responded. Hank, who was Hank? Then I remember that was the first name of the police sergeant that Novak knew on the local police force. “We're going on the assumption that this has something to do with the Cohen murder so they called me in to talk to the kid as soon as he wakes up. Those other two sure as hell aren't saying a word.”

     
“Tight as a clam, huh?”

     “They've watched too many cop shows. I think those things are the downfall of our civilization. They just make smarter criminals. You should hear these kids going on about not talking without an attorney and their rights.
Stupid fucks.
Let's just hope your friend here remembers what happened and doesn't have some sort of amnesia or anything. I don't know how much longer I can hold the Byrne kid; his parents are raising a ruckus like you wouldn't believe.”

     “Oh, I can believe it. Don't forget I worked the force for many a year. I've seen angry parents in full protection mode of their kids way too many times. But I don't think you'll have to worry about Killian here. He's sharp, maybe the sharpest I've ever worked with. The kid is only eighteen and he's amazing; has a natural talent for detection.”

     “Not to mention a natural talent for almost getting himself killed. Wasn't he involved in that serial killer a couple years back?”

     “Yeah, that was him.”

     I decided that I'd eavesdropped enough. I blinked open my eyes and took in the room.

     Novak and Sgt. Kaplan stood near the door of the room, off to one side. Novak was wearing his usual uniform of a rumpled button up short-sleeved dress shirt and a pair of casual slacks. Sgt. Kaplan didn't really look at all like I expected. He was huge, burly and blonde with a ruddy complexion. He looked like a Viking without the furs and horned hat. He wasn't wearing a uniform, but instead was dressed in a well-fitted dark gray suit, one that was surely tailor made for his enormous frame. Neither of them noticed that I was awake at first.

     “So what's a kid like him doing out on a case like this on his own anyway?” Kaplan was asking. His voice held a touch of reproach.
“Nasty business from the start.”

     “He's gotta learn sometime,” Novak said with a shrug. “I've been supervising him closely, but he did this without letting me know. I wouldn't have let him go into something like this alone if I had known. You should know me better than that.”

     “It's not Novak's fault,” I said in a croaky voice. They both spun around with twin expressions of surprise that would have made me giggle if my head hadn't hurt so much.

     “Killian, how do you feel?” Novak asked in a concerned voice as Kaplan said, “I'm Sgt. Kaplan. Do you feel up to answering some questions?”

     “I feel like I got hit by a tractor trailer,” I said truthfully, “but I can answer some questions. First, though, where's my family?”

     “They are all waiting outside,” Novak said. “We've been taking turns sitting in here with you.”

     “How long have I been out?” I asked.

     “Not that long, just overnight. I'll go let the others know you are awake and let you talk to Sgt. Kaplan alone.”

     “You can stay,” I said quickly. “You'll want to hear all this too.”

     Novak didn't argue and Kaplan took over.

     “I'm going to record this if that's ok,” he said pulling out a mini tape recorder. At my nod he added, “Please say yes or no for the recorder.”

     “You can record it.”

     He read off the date and time and a few other bits of official information then said, “State your name, please.”

     I did and he asked, “Can you tell me what was going on when the police arrived at the Cohen barn?”

     “Finn and Caleb were getting ready to kill me,” I said calmly.

     The Sergeant's eyebrows rose at that. “Are you referring to Finnegan Byrnes and Caleb Cohen?”

     “Yes.”

     “Can you tell me why?”

     “It would be easier if I started at the beginning instead of working our way back from the end,” I told him. “Is that ok?”

     “That would be grand. Go ahead; tell it to me how it's easiest for you and if I have any questions I'll just interrupt, ok?”