Lucidity (17 page)

“You’re a liar, Ms. Phelps. You may be afraid, but you believe in the unholy magic. I can see it in your eyes.”

She bit into the tape and tried to push off from the slick earth with her bare feet. He had no idea what he was doing. This wasn’t God’s will. It was murder, potentially on a grand scale. She was needed, part of the dream. She had to get back to her phone!

Parker would never find her here. And even if Vic’s fellow psychos eventually released her, she’d never be able to live with herself, knowing she’d failed and possibly had a hand in the destruction to come.

“I can see how much this means to you. You honestly believe you have the power to drive this heavenly missile off course?”

Vic shifted into a crouch, shoulders hulking, his blade a slash of silver in the thin beam of light. She was having a nightmare and desperately needed to wake up.

“Surprisingly, I believe it too, Ms. Phelps. All the more reason you people must be stopped. You’ve become a tool of the devil. You probably had no idea what those soulless scientists were doing to your body, your brain. Your
temple
. Tampering with God’s plans is not a gift intended for humans. Which is why I can’t allow you to wield it.” He moved closer, whispering. “You understand, don’t you? And when it’s all over, you will pray for me, yes?”

Chapter Fifteen

“Trapdoor in the floor under the recliner.” Parker slammed it down with such force it snapped in half. “Damn me for a fool, I should’ve known better. Nobody who’s ever been in this business leaves himself no way out.”

“Try to take it easy, Munroe.” Parker may have lost track of time, but Shepherd had apparently broken every speed law known to man and arrived in five minutes flat. His usual three-piece suit had been exchanged for thermal sweats, and he was armed to the nines. “You’ve been through?”

“It leads to a cellar with enough supplies and artillery to wage a small war. Narrow tunnel under the floor beyond that took me about five hundred yards into the woods.” He kicked the heel of his boot through Vic’s small television screen. “I’m out there on the fucking phone while she—”

“You had no idea, man. I’ve hardly been able to get a hiccup from the big boys about this guy myself. He’s done a lot of covert work, got enough blood money stashed in offshore accounts for a few lifetimes. Some kind of ex-mole, from what I hear.”

“I don’t care if he’s the freaking Antichrist. He’s dead meat once I get hold of him.”

Shep ran a hand over his curly hair. “Car?”

“His old pickup’s still behind the house. He may have had an alternate, but I didn’t hear a start-up.”

“Tracks?”

“Everywhere,” Parker grunted. “His, mine, hers, now yours. Can’t tell what’s fresh, barely the directions. Bigfoot could’ve been out there for all I know. The damn rain’s melted the top layer of snow, distorted them all.”

“I could bring in backup.”

“No time! There’s no doubt in this guy’s mind. He had a file on his hard drive, recognized her immediately. If he had enough inside info to know what she was, he may know what’s coming and how close the asteroid is. He certainly showed Violet no mercy. Why would he…” His throat tightened, and he couldn’t force the words. If that deranged fuck harmed one hair on Carly’s head, he’d bathe in his blood. “I need to find her, Shep.”

Shepherd was watching him, the surprise on his face morphing to understanding. “Yeah, I can see that. All right, looks like he’s got a few acres of this podunk little paradise. Any other cabins on or near the property, tool or storage sheds, places he could take the girl?”

“No. I’ve been around it on wheels before.”

“Friends, hunting buddies, women with low standards?”

“He’s a loner.”

Shep glanced uneasily at his feet, his voice low but distinct. “Local trash-dump sites? Quarries? Bodies of water?”

Mother of God. He was asking about places Vic might use to dump a body. Parker couldn’t process that thought. He shook his head, peering at his partner. “A lake, about five miles away. But I can’t accept that. Why take her all that way? He must’ve had a reason for not killing her right off. We’ve gotta get to them before he changes his mind.” Dragging a resisting Carlotta around would’ve slowed him down. Or she could be slipping away somewhere in the snow as they spoke. The thought of it numbed his heart, as if he too were dying. Right here. “What if he’s got a series of tunnels or another bunker?”

“Then we’ve got our work cut out for us. Let’s get to it.”

“I know what you’re thinking, Ms. Phelps. They say it in all the movies, don’t they? You’d like to tell me I’ll never get away with it, right?”

Vic turned his baseball cap around and shrugged. “That may be the only thing we’d agree on. I’ve got no illusions about what’s coming. I know very well that Munroe won’t wait for the big rock to kill me.”

So he knew about the asteroid. The Temple members must have been circulating information among themselves—and sharing photos of the One Hundred. Carly watched, petrified, as he wiped the knife’s blade against his flannel sleeve.

“In the time I’d waste dodging Munroe, I could take out one more of your people. Maybe two.” Retrieving the gun, he rubbed the barrel thoughtfully against his cheek. “So I’ll probably have to double back and do him before he gets me.”

Her cry of protest was little more than a muffled moan behind the gag, and the hole grew darker, tomblike, through the layer of sudden tears.

“Ah, there now, I’ve gone and made you cry. I’m sorry for it, really I am. Munroe’s a good man. Probably a stand-up patriot, and it’ll pain me to take him out. He just doesn’t know what he’s about.” His gaze settled on the shadow Parker’s shirt cast between her breasts. “Seeing you in that window, it’s easy to understand a fella losing his way.”

Carly screamed a sound that did not carry and flailed out with bound feet. Parker couldn’t be harmed. Not for the choices she’d made. It wasn’t fair, wasn’t right.

Vic nodded in silent understanding. “It’s good to know. I mean, that you people are, at least, still capable of human feelings. Some of us weren’t sure, with the change to your genes and all. I’ll be sure to share that with my brethren. And don’t worry. I’m very good. You won’t suffer at all. Now.” He moved closer, the smell of stale eggs foul on his breath. “Unless you’ve got the power to stop me, witch, I’ll be moving on with God’s plan.”

Parker’s heart pounded in his ears as they raced out into the weather. The snowfall was becoming more aggressive, pellets of punishing ice that glazed and filled the patterns their feet punched into the snow.

Luckily, Shep had always been a natural at tracking. If he couldn’t find Carly, it probably couldn’t be done.

And that was the fear that drove Parker, that made him forget all about the impending disaster. That nobody could find her now, that he might already be too late.

“Take me to the hole in the woods.” Shepherd palmed a .45, right on Parker’s heels as they launched into a dead run. “We’ll fan out from there.”

As they frantically made their way through the trees, Parker tried to focus, to clear his mind of the fury that had made reason impossible. Fucking witch hunt, here in the twenty-first century. How could people be so blindly ignorant? Nobody who knew Carly or Violet could believe them capable of harm. All they wanted to do was help, to believe in the better side of human nature.

Parker had no such faith. After so many years of violence, he had very few ethics left. But he believed in truth, and he’d sworn to keep her safe. He never reneged on a promise. Whether the One Hundred needed her or not,
he
did. He had no intention of losing her now.

Vic had to know he’d come after him. Political and religious persuasions be damned—the man had taken his woman. This went beyond the civilized. The bastard wasn’t so far gone he didn’t know what that meant. “Shep? Tell me about the murder.”

“The Cushing girl?” Shepherd huffed beside him, regulating his breathing. “Professionally handled. I’d say she didn’t linger. She might’ve been attractive, but hard to tell now. Unassuming lady but, apparently, well-liked. Her boyfriend was the county sheriff’s favorite suspect, naturally. I doubt it. I talked to the guy. He was pretty much in pieces.”

“So she was killed last night.” Not long after spending the afternoon with Carly. Finding both of them within killing distance must’ve made Vic a happy little maniac. “Anything weird about the crime scene?”

“You mean other than an innocent young woman being sliced open? No. Manager found the body jacked in one of the bathroom stalls.”

No help there. They pounded the path, steps in sync, Parker’s desperation making cold clots of his breath in the air as they neared the tunnel’s exit. He’d been right. He had no gift for imagining. Try as he might, he couldn’t visualize that vibrant young girl reduced to the broken body of a dreamer who believed in magic, left mutilated and alone in a stone-cold room. Or maybe he just didn’t want to.

It wasn’t gonna happen. Not again. Not to Carlotta. That ghostly image of her on the fanatic’s computer was not going to be the last time he saw her smile. “He didn’t dispose of the Cushing girl’s body. He must have been proud of what he’d done.”

“Or he was rushed, or interrupted. We all know the drill. Speed, surprise and efficacy of action. Fifteen miles from here isn’t very far. He wouldn’t want to risk being recognized or having his truck seen. These guys are paranoid, even after they’re out of the game. Shit-eating sonsabitches, never comfortable in the light of day. This it?”

Parker slowed his pace as they neared the hole. He’d left it open after viciously shoving aside the hollow stump overhead. “This was where I emerged from the tunnel. Now, where he went from here—”

“Crafty old buzzard. Knows his business.” Shep nudged the dead tree with his toe. “Put something natural, something inconspicuous on top. Without decent tracks, only special equipment would’ve sniffed it out. We wouldn’t have found it in a week of searching.”

“Meaning, he could have her in another hole anywhere, under anything. Tree, rock, more under the house…”

Shepherd muttered a string of curses that should’ve put a preacher’s kid to shame as he scanned the misshapen tracks in the snow. “We’ll do what we can, Munroe, but you’ve got to be prepared—”

“To bring her safely back. That’s the only way this ends, understand?” Parker snarled. He glared helplessly into the hole. “He’s close, Shep.
Gotta
be. And she’s still alive. I know it.”

“Then we’ll need to stay calm and rational,” Shep said softly. “I say we split up. Cover more ground that way.”

The gun-gray sky seemed to press like the weight of the world on Parker’s shoulders. “You stay with this. I’ll take the area directly around the house. The little rat bastard must’ve left some kind of clue, slipped up somehow, said something.” He was rambling, and he didn’t care how it sounded. “What kind of bullshit did he spout? He was antsy without the booze. Came out here to practice with his gun. Hinted he’d worked underground for a cause or two, that he wasn’t comfortable running a business, would be more at home… What was it?
The woodpile
. That was it. He talked about living under that gigantic woodpile by the house.” Shouting back at Shep, Parker charged back through the woods. “I’ll start there, then search the B&B for other tunnels. You call me if you see anything, Bolt. And pray,” he murmured to himself, “that I’m not wasting what little precious time we have.”

Shep watched him retrace their steps, hauling ass back to the house as if his life depended on it. He hoped Munroe was right about the woodpile. He’d never forgive himself if he was wrong. And there’d be no time for making a second choice.

Sadly shaking his head, he reached for his phone. It was obvious how much his partner had come to care for Carly. Goddammit. Bad timing, wrong girl. This would bust the big guy up. Shep had seen the body in the theater and had no illusions about the outcome here. This trail was, literally, a dead end.

There was no point in delaying the call for searching assistance. Oh, he’d try. He’d give it everything he had, follow what clues he could, as he’d promised his friend.

But he was pretty sure the cadaver dogs would have better luck.

His old man had always warned him that only a fool bet against the house—and he’d spent years gambling with his congregation’s money to prove it. Odds were Carlotta Phelps already slept peacefully in the arms of whatever god she’d worshipped.

And who could say? Knowing about the asteroid now and all the destruction that might entail…maybe she was one of the luckier ones.

Vic tilted his head, examining the curve of her neck, and Carly winced as a trickle of warm blood ran down her neck.

The blade was so sharp she hadn’t felt the cut.

“I can only hope I’ve made a dent in your little coven, Ms. Phelps. Carlotta,” he added, smiling. “I was rushed and careless yesterday. Not up to my usual standards at all. But that girl, plus the one they haven’t found yet, should make a difference. And don’t you worry. Nobody will pay much attention to a little stench coming from an old outhouse. Your eternal rest should remain undisturbed.”

Carly squeezed her eyes closed, tears seeping from beneath her lids. She’d failed. At everything. Trying to use a useless gift for something noble, making a difference for an unsuspecting world—and Parker. The one man she wanted, the only man who’d ever accepted her just as she was, and she’d never see him again, never even know if he survived.